Morrow | Din Djarin

Chapter One

To the space cowboy-loving nerds

and anyone with a mask kink

started: february 12th, 2022

finished: tbd 

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Walking through the streets of Nevarro, Sola Vale instantly thought she was being followed.

It started with the cold chills running down her spine, led by the beads of sweat rolling down her forehead.

She whipped her forehead and let out a long breath, pulling up the hood on her cloak to cover her face. Her boots picked up the pace as the shaking began. Quickly, she ducked into an alleyway.

"Calm down." She told herself. "You're just being paranoid."

Granted Sola's entire life she had been paranoid.

A death sentence that began just at the age of fifteen, she was used to looking over her shoulder. However, that didn't mean it didn't freak her out to think she was being followed.

She had almost composed herself when the rocky ground of Nevarro met Sola's face.

Tight hands wrapped around her wrists as they pinned her down. The fear she had once felt a moment ago was pushed down, as she simply rolled her eyes at the movement. She began to thrash around to try to be released from the death grip this stranger had on her.

"Hey, stop moving. " A firm voice called.

The sound of the modulated voice made her stop dead in her tracks, her head pressing down on the rocky terrain. Whoever it was had a helmet on. She found herself praying that the bucket-head wasn't Imperial.

Sola took a deep breath, and with a light tone she said, "Listen, whatever you think I did, I didn't do. I am innocent."

This caused the stranger to scoff, tightening the pair of handcuffs around her wrists. "Tell that to the guy that wants you." This stranger's voice was deep and horse. Almost sounded like it hadn't been used in a while.

Before she could think about the man's voice any longer, with a harsh pull she was back up on her feet and staring at her captor. She gazed at him up and down and instantly was taken aback by the tattered and worn armor with a familiar helmet on top of his head.

"Since when does your kind live here?" Sola questioned, eyebrow raised.

The question caused the armored man's shoulders to tense and he instantly shoved her forward out of the alleyway and back on the streets.

Now, Sola was used to these situations. Plenty of bounty hunters had attempted to capture her and she had had plenty of handcuffs wrapped around her wrists. She always found her way out of them with not a lot of issues. However, the normal fighter instinct was gone, as curiosity had taken over her.

"So, who sent you after me?" She asked as they made their way through the streets, passing by the vendors, who had all glanced over and quickly looked.

The man didn't reply, as he just kept walking in a straight line, shoulders still as tense as before.

Sola shook her head. "You don't talk much do you?" With a playful tone, she added. "How mysterious."

Attempting to get a rise out of him wasn't working either, so she decided to remain quiet as they approached the outskirts of the city.

"A Razor Crest?" She looked at him, taken aback, as they approached a large rusty ship. "Aren't those ships old?"

This caused the Mandalorian to look at her with a painfully blank expression and pushed her onto the hull of the ship, with a click of a button. Before she could even understand her surroundings she was being forced up a ladder and into the cockpit. In one quick motion, handcuffed to a metal bar on the top of the ship. With that, the Mandalorian spun on his heel towards the latter, leaving her all alone.