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dindjarindiaries · 11 months

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The Mandalorian Seasons 1 & 3: Direct Parallels

After rewatching The Mandalorian season 3 cohesively and thinking back to season 1, I came upon a realization that every episode of season 3 somehow directly parallels back to each respective episode of season 1. Below is a breakdown going episode-by-episode and diving deep into each parallel I noticed. Please keep in mind that these are my observations and theories, nothing more!

CHAPTER 1: THE MANDALORIAN & CHAPTER 17: THE APOSTATE

“Chapter 1: The Mandalorian” is all about setting up Din Djarin’s journey, mainly the job he’s tasked with that causes him to cross paths with a new ally, Grogu. “Chapter 17: The Apostate”—like many season openers—accomplishes the same thing: setting up Din’s journey and causing him to cross paths with a reluctant ally, Bo-Katan Kryze. IG-11 is an important part of each episode and helps to bring some comedic relief to the screen. In Chapter 1, Din utters the infamous “I like those odds” line when his odds are 4 to 1. Din also finds himself with 4 to 1 odds during the pirate showdown, where he takes down four of them and leaves Vane standing. Lastly, Chapter 1 reveals that the job Din’s taken is a very difficult one that other hunters either can’t complete or refuse to. Chapter 17 proves that Din’s journey to Mandalore is also seemingly impossible and many others refuse to do it.

CHAPTER 2: THE CHILD & CHAPTER 18: THE MINES OF MANDALORE

“Chapter 2: The Child” seals the bond between Din and Grogu as Din faces trials in his journey to bringing Grogu back to Nevarro. “Chapter 18: The Mines of Mandalore” seals the bond between Din and Bo-Katan as allies while Din faces trials in his journey to redemption on Mandalore. In both episodes, Grogu has to rescue Din when he’s in danger, and both times he tries to use the Force to do so. Each episode also features Din fighting off an ambush on his own, though that tends to be pretty common for him. Both episodes also featured a creature that hasn’t been seen in Star Wars live action before: the mudhorn and the Mythosaur, respectively. By the end of each of these episodes, Din’s gained at least one new ally and has accomplished his original goal (getting Grogu back to Nevarro and earning his redemption).

CHAPTER 3: THE SIN & CHAPTER 19: THE CONVERT

“Chapter 3: The Sin” and “Chapter 19: The Convert” both see their protagonists going against a set of rules they’re expected to follow in order to further what they view as the greater good. In Chapter 3, it’s Din breaking the Guild Code to rescue Grogu. In Chapter 19, it’s Penn Pershing breaking the rules of the Amnesty Program to restart his research. Both episodes feature a betrayal of sorts, Greef Karga and Elia Kane respectively. Additionally, the Children of the Watch in both episodes—most notably Paz Vizsla—start both episodes off by being hostile towards Din only to end up helping him in some way. In Chapter 3, it was saving him and Grogu from the hunters, and in Chapter 19, it was accepting his redemption as well as Bo-Katan’s. Each episode title also uses religious language.

CHAPTER 4: SANCTUARY & CHAPTER 20: THE FOUNDLING

“Chapter 4: Sanctuary” and “Chapter 20: The Foundling” each start off a 3-episode run of different adventures that fill in the storytelling space and offer the characters time to face trials and grow before the overall story starts to wrap up. In Chapter 4, Cara Dune mostly leads the effort to rescue the village. Bo-Katan fills this same role in Chapter 20 by leading the Mandalorians to rescuing the foundling. Interestingly enough, both these episodes also are some of the only to address how and when a Mandalorian should remove their helmets to eat. Chapter 4 offers some Din backstory that he gives to Omera while Chapter 20 offers some Grogu backstory. At the end of each episode, the rescues are complete, but another call to adventure haunts the protagonists.

CHAPTER 5: THE GUNSLINGER & CHAPTER 21: THE PIRATE

These two are probably the hardest to draw parallels on. “Chapter 5: The Gunslinger” starts with a dogfight, while “Chapter 21: The Pirate” features quite a long dogfight as well. Peli Motto was originally meant to appear in Chapter 21 and her introduction to the Star Wars galaxy was in Chapter 5. Fennec Shand tells Din of the Mandalorians’ fate on Nevarro in Chapter 5, but in Chapter 21, the Mandalorians are the ones taking down others on Nevarro. Each episode also leaves off on a cliffhanger that isn’t resolved by the next episode, with Chapter 5 featuring Boba Fett saving Fennec and Chapter 21 featuring the New Republic finding beskar within a destroyed shuttle.

CHAPTER 6: THE PRISONER & CHAPTER 22: GUNS FOR HIRE

This one has some of my favorite parallels, and for no good reason! In “Chapter 6: The Prisoner,” Din teams up with mercenaries he used to work for, while we see in “Chapter 22: Guns For Hire” that Axe Woves, Koska Reeves, and other Mandalorians have become their own band of mercenaries. Both episodes feature Din being very hostile towards droids, even more so than usual. They also both include notable cameos, Bill Burr and Matt Lanter for Chapter 6 and Lizzo, Jack Black, and Christopher Lloyd for Chapter 22. In Chapter 6, Din is against the side of the law, while in Chapter 22, Din is united with Bo-Katan on the side of the law. The end of Chapter 6 saw Ranzar Malk and Qin sharing some choice words about Din while the end of Chapter 22 saw Axe also sharing some choice words about Din. (It’s fun how similar these two episodes are to each other in my head!)

CHAPTER 7: THE RECKONING & CHAPTER 23: THE SPIES

“Chapter 7: The Reckoning” and “Chapter 23: The Spies” each act as a part one of the overall grand finale of their respective seasons, with each ending on a devastating cliffhanger of a main supporting character’s tragic death. Both episodes start with a somewhat reluctant team-up of Din’s collected allies to continue a journey. Each episode is also Moff Gideon’s first appearance in their respective seasons, with both featuring Moff Gideon’s holographic image on a call before his actual physical appearance. Both episodes see the groups venturing across a desolate landscape to get to where they need to go only to get led into an ambush. In Chapter 7, it’s Grogu who gets captured by Gideon, while in Chapter 23, it’s Din who gets captured by Gideon. Additionally, each episode has peril in which allies cannot be contacted by comms. Lastly, as referenced before, Chapter 7 ends with Kuiil’s tragic death, and Chapter 23 ends with Paz’s.

CHAPTER 8: REDEMPTION & CHAPTER 24: THE RETURN

“Chapter 8: Redemption” and “Chapter 24: The Return” both end on a hopeful and somewhat peaceful note for Din and Grogu with a brand-new call to action. In Chapter 8, Moff Gideon blows up Din, while in Chapter 24, Moff Gideon gets blown up. Grogu protects Din and his allies from fire in both Chapter 8 as well as Chapter 24. In Chapter 8, the Armorer tells Din he is as Grogu’s father, while in Chapter 24, Din officially adopts Grogu as his son. Din earns a mudhorn signet for Grogu in Chapter 8 and Grogu earns part of Din’s name in Chapter 24. IG-11 sacrifices himself in Chapter 8, but comes back to life to serve as the marshal of Nevarro in Chapter 24. Both episodes contain big battle scenes that eventually lead to an entire planet being liberated. Chapter 8 features the Darksaber’s first appearance in live action, while Chapter 24 features the destruction of that same weapon. Finally, Chapter 8 sees Din and Grogu leaving Nevarro, but Chapter 24 sees Din and Grogu staying there in a home of their own.

#and this is why i love the mandalorian #is most of this just me reaching and being delusional? perhaps. perhaps #but as a season 1 girlie and a season 3 lover i will gladly go down this route #the mandalorian #star wars #the mandalorian season 1 #the mandalorian season 3 #din djarin

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the-kittylorian-writes · 1 year

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"To The Letter"

Type: One-shot

Pairing: Din Djarin x Omera

Rating: General Audiences

Summary:

“The community’s grateful,” Omera told the Mandalorian one afternoon by the ponds. Indeed, the little Sorgan village is thankful for their newfound peace. Beforehand, Omera thinks that sending a heartfelt thank-you note to the silver-clad warrior is an excellent idea. Or isn’t it?

(Written for Mandomera Week 2022, second prompt: “Secrets”)

read it here or on AO3 (with author's notes)

To The Letter

“Dear Mandalorian,” Omera started speaking into one of her old, pocket-sized datapads where she logged in her thoughts.

Until recently, all her mini datapad logs contained holiday recipes, loom weaving techniques, and instructions of handy repairs around the humble hut which she and Winta shared.

Omera released a breathy, quivering laugh. She shook out the dream-fog that plagued her head.

“Delete salutation,” Omera instructed the log. Dear Mandalorian had disappeared into a clean slate.

“To the Mandalorian,” Omera recited into the data-log device, starting anew. “T-to…”

Omera sighed. Her mind had suddenly gone blank, right from when she had erased the entire “dear”-ness towards the letter’s recipient. A bubble of frustration began to brew within her.

She cleared her throat, composed herself, and took a deep breath. Her warm voice was the solitary reverberation in the hut. She had time for herself to do this, while Winta was at school, while the Mandalorian and Cara Dune did shifts at patrol rounds, and while a village matriarch took her turn in looking after the little green child.

It’s been two standard months since Cara, the Mandalorian, and his small son were greeted by the perimeter of their farm and welcomed with open arms. Bless them—he and Cara had been very sincere in their attempts to help and uplift the village, if not for their acute pragmatism which came as a shock sometimes. They had once suggested that the villagers relocate elsewhere, as their beloved krill farm was doomed should it suffer a Klatooinian attack aided by their AT-ST assault machine.

Omera couldn’t believe it at first, when the Mandalorian had formed a viable solution. He’d suggested with a casual air that the village can be taught how to fight, if they were willing to take up arms and train for days on end. An attempt of such a scale hadn’t befallen their village in decades—they were peaceful folk who only wished to do good business through their exceptional spotchka, which was their main means of livelihood for generations.

The Mandalorian kept true to his word with a gravity that reflected the honor in which he had been raised. Not only had he lent his undivided attention to make sure everyone was as capable a shot as they could compared to Omera’s surprising expertise, he had lent his own weapons—dozens of hands touching the sacred objects of his religion, leaving a dozen more fingerprints upon the shiny metals from a variety of his personal munitions.

Omera watched the way he talked, the way he moved, even the way he stood in tranquil stillness. He was precise, reserved, unpatronizing… genuine.

His desire to help was real. He had already taken the downpayment for Cara’s own payroll, leaving nothing for himself and his child, save for food and lodging. Omera’s heart had sunken then, realizing that he had only wished for a place to lie low and think, and care for his child without the perils of the hunt and being hunted in turn—no more, and no less.

In his confidence over being able to restore the village to its post-raids state, his only valued transaction was a momentary home in exchange for his time, his blood, his sweat, his skill in the fight.

Now, in this noon hour, Omera remained stuck with her message to the Mandalorian. Cara’s had been easy; the other woman took neither flattery nor hyperbole, which Omera appreciated. She had found a friend in Cara. However, when it came to the Mandalorian…

Omera wasn’t one to curse, but this time, an ungainly swear word escaped her lips as frustration reached its peak.

“Fine,” Omera whispered to herself, relenting. “Dear Mandalorian…”

“Dearest Mandalorian and baby…”

“To our dearest Mandalorian and baby…”

“Our dearest… my dearest…”

Omera groaned, almost defeated but not quite. When she first came across the idea of a thank-you note, she thought that it was a lovely idea. She’d brought it up to Winta, and her little girl agreed with it whole-heartedly. When Omera had permitted Winta to go ahead with her own thank-yous into the log, the child went about it with an innocent ease of one unsullied by the humiliation of inadvertently saying the wrong things.

With a tinge of good-natured envy, Omera watched and heard her child utter her own sweet words of gratitude. A child’s sincerity flowed from their heart quickly downstream, unhampered.

Then came Omera’s turn. As days passed by, dictation into the log became increasingly difficult.

She couldn’t find the words to sort her feelings; or perhaps, she couldn’t decide on her feelings to sort out the words.

Omera was… conflicted.

“Dearest Mandalorian…”

She remembered the way he trudged around the perimeter, unbothered like the sturdiest tree in the forest. He emanated a quiet confidence which needed no heralding or ostentation. It was ever-present like the air Sorgan breathed or the waters upon the river that shimmered under the sun, since the beginning of time. It was a confidence which inspired trust.

It was a confidence which inspired…

“Dearest Mandalorian…” Omera begun once more, for the umpteenth time.

Love.

The Mandalorian was inspiring love…

Omera felt discomfort and a muted horror over the epiphany, which she herself had acted as a barrier against. However, actively fighting it was affecting her clarity of mind and the serenity in her soul. If she resisted any further, she’d perceive herself a false person, unworthy of truth as she herself could not extend it.

The truth, Omera decided, didn’t need to be paraded out in the open. If she could only be true to herself, that would be enough. All she needed to do was let all her thoughts out, starting with “Dearest Mandalorian” and all the words she wished she could tell him but couldn’t—shouldn’t. At this moment in time, it was still a very complicated thing, like a stove top too burning to the touch.

If Omera could just let all those words out for him and yet treat all this as if no one listened, she’d find equilibrium again. The Mandalorian didn’t have to know. “To my dearest Mandalorian…

You are a force of nature, a blessing, a gift, a sign from our gods to guard our home.

When you walk around the circle of ponds, it’s as if you weave a spell of protection around it.

You keep all of us safe. You make us feel safe. We know we are safe because you made it so. You are a jewel.

And I love you for it.

I love you.”

A long silence followed as Omera felt the tears fall, as soon as she had uttered the last three words. The data-log noted it down like a faithful, automatic scribe.

She began to feel a tremendous burden slowly lift from deep within her, but she couldn’t face herself over this tenacious, hidden confession just yet. When her many inner storms had settled, maybe she can go out in the open again and pretend she had never said those words…

Her mouth tried to utter something more. She wanted to dictate to the log… “delete last message,” but a huge part of her refused to. It was like taking her words back, her sincerity back. It would once again be a lie.

Wiping the tears, forcing out a long exhale of trapped emotions, she let her shoulders droop. She calmed the beating of her heart. It was hammering powerfully enough to knock the oxygen out of her brain, and she held her ground.

“I’ll be okay,” Omera promised herself.

Letting the draft of her secret letter to marinate in the log for a day or two, Omera stepped out of the hut to enjoy the vestiges of daylight. She had been at the log for hours. She needed to stretch her legs and check on her dearest Mandalorian and his sweet child while she’s at it.

***

“Winta!”

Omera flitted around the hut like a caged bird all morning, flipping mats and pillows and folded laundry, tossing small household items here and there in clear search of something. “Winta, my love—have… have you seen my data-log?”

Winta was chewing porridge at the kitchen table. Her mouth was full when she replied, adding to Omera’s vexation. “Nnho, Mhama.” The little girl swallowed her food. “Mama—was that the same log with my thank-you letter in it?”

Omera wrung her hands, entangled her fingers over her braids as the plaits slowly came undone. “Y-yes. Yes. I’ve sent the log with your note to the Mandalorian. I don’t think I’ve sent mine—“ the young widow stopped short, catching her breath.

She wouldn’t be caught telling her own daughter a lie.

Omera hadn’t been in her best mood ever since the Mandalorian, the baby, and Cara had departed the village at the same time. She and Winta had adjusted their expectations over the whole messy affair of the Mandalorian needing to be on the run again for the safety of his son. Her heart had ached so preposterously, that when she had been packing gifts for the baby which the Mandalorian took with him, she also had not been paying close attention to her actions.

She had wanted to get over the pain of seeing father and son off, not knowing that she may have done so a little too hurriedly.

“Oh… Oh no. Maker…” Omera felt crushed as she collapsed on a wooden chair in their modest living room. Her chest heaved visibly and she seemed faint, enough for Winta to squeak and fetch her mother a tankard of water.

“Mama,” volunteered Winta at last, as Omera drank her fill, her eyes bloodshot and tired. “Mama… maybe you’ve packed it along with the baby’s gifts! It’s the tiny rectangle thing with a flap, right? I think I saw it tucked in the baby’s blanket…

Omera sat up, very attentive. Her eyes were wide as she stuttered at her daughter. “Y-yes, that one. It’s… it’s a tiny rectangle with a flap.”

Her body turned to jelly. Her bones turned to ice.

She buried her face in her hands.

Winta was prodding at her mother. “Was your letter in there, Mama?”

Omera nodded, keeping her face shrouded in her palms, unspeaking.

Winta scooted closer to her mother. “Then why d’ya look so worried, Mama? Did you say something in the log by mistake which you weren’t able to fix?”

Omera let out a small sob; she sat still for long moments before finding the courage to peek out of her shell.

She thought for an answer, unwittingly holding Winta close. The child, confused, simply embraced her mother back, her dark head resting under Omera’s chin.

The young widow was learning the hard way that secrets—in one way or another—were not meant to remain so forever. Omera kissed the top of Winta’s head, resigned to her fate.

“No, my darling,” said Omera softly. “There are no mistakes.”

If Winta suddenly sported an even more baffled expression, Omera took no heed, as she felt her heart burst and she kissed her daughter’s soft crown once more.

***

The child patted his little three-fingered hands over the pocket-sized datapad with a flap on it. He wondered what that uncomfortable shape was digging into his side from among the blankets, and out of natural, immediate curiosity, the baby fished it out.

He uttered a pleasant trill which sent the Mandalorian’s visor facing towards him in the passenger’s seat. The man had been focused on the ship’s controls before then, as the Razor Crest whistled like a bolt through hyperspace.

The Mandalorian paused, intent over the object which the baby had found interest in.

“Whatcha got there, kid?” the Mandalorian inquired of the baby with ever-growing fondness. “More presents?"

The baby giggled and trilled, the magnetic pull of his huge eyes keeping the Mandalorian’s attention glued to his son.

A tiny, airy chuckle seeped through the warrior’s vocoder. “They’ve been spoiling you rotten, kid. I’ve never seen a womp rat get spoiled like you my whole life…”

The baby seemed to have other plans as his little clawed fingers played with the flap, and as soon as he pried it open, Winta’s cheerful voice filled the cockpit.

“To the dearest sweetest baby there ever was and his dad…”

The child’s ears flapped inwards and his face scrunched in delight. Winta’s thank-you message played on as the Mandalorian continued to fail at holding in a fit of tremulous laughter. That ecstatic sound was brief but tangible. The child loved his father’s laugh. He made that face again, and the Mandalorian chuckled again.

“…many many many hugs and kisses, and all the yummy frogs in the galaxy for you and all the oatcakes for your dad because you helped our village pres.. prosp… um—prosper again. That’s a big word we learned in school yesterday!”

Winta’s log-note soon came to a close, also translated in glowing little aurebesh letters as the little girl spoke her exuberant words. The child clapped, patted the little data-log once, as if to send a gesture of affection to Winta from afar.

The Mandalorian exuded one of his rare, wistful sighs (they were usually sighs of resignation).

“That was very nice of Winta, kid. I’m sure you’d love to keep that log to tide you over while we hop around the galaxy for a little while…”

“To my dearest Mandalorian…” began a new message.

The child looked so amused when the Mandalorian’s head whipped back to the direction of the data-log, quicker than a finger snap or a flash of lightning. The man sat there on the pilot’s chair, unmoving.

The Mandalorian had become paralyzed for an instant, his helmet tipping subtly, small movements missed if one should blink.

Then, the Mandalorian decided that hearing Omera’s voice again was a luxury he was unwilling to indulge in at the moment. He was unprepared. He swallowed hard, his breaths grew shallow, and he had sprung from his seat to carefully kneel in front of the child.

“…you keep all of us safe…” continued the young widow’s log-note, but the cockpit had grown abruptly silent when the Mandalorian had gotten hold of the device and snapped it shut.

The child cooed at his father inquisitively. He made cajoling noises of affection when the Mandalorian remained still, so still.

Then his shoulders heaved in the wake of a tremendously strained sigh.

“I’ll be okay, kid,” said the Mandalorian at last. As an afterthought, he patted the closed log firmly with a gloved hand.

“I know you’ll think me weird, kid,” added the man, his voice scratched with emotion. “But… I’d rather keep this a secret for a while longer…”

There was no judgment in the baby’s babbled response. The child reached out, and with surprising tenderness, laid a tiny clawed hand on top of his father’s helm.

“We’ll be okay,” the Mandalorian repeated, and the baby agreed.

****

#mandomeraweek2022 #din x omera #the mandalorian fanfiction #the mandalorian fanfics #my works #my fic #din djarin #omera #sorgan #the mandalorian season 1 #more bittersweetness #the-kittylorian mandomera week fics

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