#freedombringer: the revelation

[secretficblog]

Freedombringer - Chapter 1: The Revelation

Hi lovelies, I thought I’d make a sideblog for my fics. 

you can find the work here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28094760

Summary:  The Mandalorian is still trying to find the place where the Child belongs, but after the events of season 2 (minus you know what with the Razor Crest) he decides to make a pit stop in Mos Espa to take a good old-fashioned, normal job. The bounty should be an easy catch, the payment is well enough, and some mindless hunting will surely help him clear his thoughts. But when Din Djarin finally tracks the bounty to its hideout, he realizes a terrible truth.

Tags:  

Slavery

Slow Burn

Trust Issues

Slightly angsty Mando

Does the helmet stay on during sex?

the Razor Crest is okay because everything else will be ignored

Season 2 is over

no one died

Grogu is there

Tatooine

Mos Espa

compliant ish until chapter 14

It had been a long, hard day for the beskar-clad bounty hunter and he wanted nothing more than to stretch out in his sleeping nook, the Child safely in his cot next to him, but he had a feeling this would not happen anytime soon. The bounty was smarter than he thought, nearly untraceable. He had found more important and intelligent people faster than this lots of times. Instead of putting someone into sweet, payment-promising carbonite slumber early on in the day he had crept around the sands of Tatooine for hours until he finally found the bounty. By then he had lost him several times but it was not easy to get rid of a bounty hunter, especially since the Mandalorian prided himself in being one of the best in his trade.  When his target arrived at his destination something felt off to the bounty hunter, there were way too many heat signatures around his target.

Din wondered if the smuggler had hired bodyguards, if he knew someone sent a bounty hunter after him. He usually didn’t mind long stake-outs but the desert and heat in the area around Mos Espa were starting to wear him down and he could feel that the sand, that had crept up underneath the plates of his armor, was now uncomfortably rubbing against the cloth layer below his armor. The plan was to keep searching for answers and help for the little one but his ship was in dire need of repairs, so he had decided to land in the port city two days ago. He had found a job almost immediately but he had to admit that something about the city just seemed off, the streets were full of life, yet a little too quiet to be lively.

Now he was on the way back to his trusty Razor Crest, partially to check up on the kid and partially to take a minute to breathe freely and without having to be too weary of his surroundings. He arrived quickly, too lost in his thoughts to pay attention to the walk there. The Crest might not be a beauty, it might have never been one in the first place, but it was his safe space, the one place he could call home after loosing his first one and then the protection of the Mandalorians.

“Ah the things you do for credits…”, he groaned when he sat down in a proper chair for the first time that day. The Child cooed next to him, almost sounding understanding. “I do it so we don’t have to live off of frogs or whatever we can hunt in the wild, although I suppose you wouldn’t mind, would you, kid?” The little one’s ears perked up at the mention of his favorite food and he smacked his lips twice. The Mandalorian let out a small sound of disgust. “Alright kid, let’s get you fed and ready for a nap and then I’ll head back out.”

Bone broth sounded like bacta for his aching muscles and tired mind right now and he was sure the child wouldn’t complain. After he placed the little one on his table, he filled two cups with a dissolved ration pack full of powder and hot water. Greedy green hands were reaching for the smaller cup before it even was completely full. “Clam down, kid. You’ll burn yourself.” The child rewarded him with more exaggerated lip smacking.

Sometimes he wondered why he talked to him like he would answer but the little one had touched a part of his heart he had closed off ever since his parents died. The memories he had left were way too precious to him to be replaced by anything else, but they were fading, and the more he tried to hold on to them, the faster they seemed to slip away. It had been a gradual process for years but once the child had stepped into his life, it had slowly but surely wiggled his way into the Mandalorian’s heart. ‘Not that slowly’, he thought to himself when he remembered the moment he found the pod that had contained the little one. Looking back that was the moment he decided he was unable to give him away, but he had a duty to fulfill. That was the first time he had broken one of his rules in a long time. He made a habit out of not caring for the bounties, bringing them in however the clients wanted them, warm or cold, it usually didn’t matter all that much. The routine of taking a job, tracking the target and delivering them had been so burned into his mind that he didn’t even consider leaving his normal path, he was just going through the motions, but then he took the job that led him to Arvala-7 and the child. For the first time since he started bringing in bounties he had questioned it, he had cared about what happened to his target. It was an unknown feeling, the idea of him haunted it and-

A cup that was slowly shoved into his field of view ripped him out of his train of thought. “Gro...gu”, he said, the name still feeling unfamiliar when it rolled off of his tongue, “do you want more broth?” “Ah”, the little one answered, while shoving the cup even closer to Din’s face, waddling a step towards him on the tabletop. A slight chuckle escaped the man, the foreign sound ringing in his ears for a second.  He lifted his cup and poured part of his own broth into Grogu’s cup. The urge to watch over him was strong, but the need to wash off quickly before he went back out into the desert was stronger, so he entered the captain’s quarters and stripped out of his armor, slowly and carefully, fully aware of how much it was worth, not just to him but to his people.

Something deep inside of him urged him not to dwell for too long, getting back to the bounty’s hideout suddenly seemed incredibly important to him. So Din cleaned himself with a quick precision, slipped into new undergarments and put his armor back on. He did however take the time to spare a glance at his uncovered face in the beaten up mirror he owned. It wasn’t a necessity for a Mandalorian to own one, but he was a foundling after all, and his features reminded him of his parents. He was far from willing to ignore the Creed, the Mandalorians had rescued him and he owed them his life, but there were moments, especially now that his memories were fleeting and his parent’s features were becoming blurrier with every day, where he needed to see his face, wanted to show it proudly and carry on his parent’s bloodline, to keep their memory alive.

He snapped back to the present and the urge to continue his mission returned with force. Grogu looked sleepy and when Din lifted him up to put him in his little makeshift hammock and hide him from the world, the child snuggled up to him in a tired haze. “I need to go, ad’ika, but I will be back before you wake.” (little one)

He shouldered his rifle and checked his blaster before looking back at the child one last time.

The target was hiding in a lone building further away from the city, it was sand colored and easy to miss but the Mandalorian knew exactly how to spot hideouts. On his way there he tried to clear his mind and focus completely on the mission at hand. There would be time later to think about everything else and if he died, he wouldn’t have to worry about anything anyway. Perks of the job, he supposed. He growled at his constantly straying mind and tried to force his focus back towards the target, this wasn’t helpful at all. Settling in for the night, he decided to unpack his equipment on a small hill that faced the building’s entrance. Just as he zoomed in on the unmoving scene in front of him something started to happen.

A woman ran out of the door, followed by Genosians with blasters. He used his visor to take a closer look and saw shackles and handcuffs dangling from the woman’s limbs. She was trying to flee. Din had heard stories about Mos Espa but it was at that moment that he realized that most of the people in the hideout were not bodyguards, they were slaves.

#the mandalorian #star wars #mando x oc #fanfic #mandalorian #din djarin #din djarin x female oc #canon til the beginning of ch 14 #mando #does it make sense? #eh #we love space dad mando #freedombringer #freedombringer: the revelation