Vibrant Eyes | Din Djarin

44: Nothing

Ira liked to disappear.

When she managed to make friends as a youngling, they used to play hide and seek almost religiously, and she grew to be quite good at it. Eventually it morphed into a game of "now you see me, now you don't". Then it became her way of life, hiding in plain sight and disappearing before anyone could ever truly notice her.

But with Mando and his friends... She had to admit that she grew bored easily sometimes when the all-knowing fog consumed her. Everything became so very predictable. So, she became the unpredictability that the world needed.

Ira also just really enjoyed the way the Mandalorian would seethe silently every time.

He was most of the reason she did it so much, in the end. But this time was different. This time it actually served a needed purpose.

Because there was someone she needed to speak to.

Floating to stand in the open doorway of the Mandalorian forge, Ira tilted her head and watched the air rush around a figure standing where others had fallen around her. She silently admired the way purple mist and tendrils floated off of the woman's limbs as the fight fell away. It was a sign as any to her strength and her skill.

When the woman looked up, she froze and the air stilled. Then it resumed course as she straightened, whatever weapons she used hanging at her sides. Ira smiled in greeting and waited for her to break the silence.

"You have questions," the woman huffed.

"Hmm." Ira took a step further in, studying the absence of Force in the very center of the room. Where she felt the light touch of heat from earlier and could smell melted metal. "Who are you?"

"A Mandalorian Armorer," she said, then explained further on it without preamble.

Ira nodded in thought, fighting besides herself against the fog creeping upon her sensibilities. "You gave him something. What was it?" she asked.

The Armorer was silent for a moment, then she let out a breath not nearly silent enough to escape her detection. She walked off somewhere, and her tools clanged as she set them down. Ira leaned back against the nearest wall and watched the Force fluctuate around them, let herself observe and yet remain a separate whole.

Just for those moments, when sanity was something she would need.

The Armorer said, "You are blind."

"And you, perceptive."

"More than your companions."

"Yes," Ira mused with a sharp, sudden grin. "One could say they are blind to the signs."

She got the vague sense that the woman only shook her head at her, assuming she couldn't sense such things. It was a part of the reason why she kept everything in such tightly locked secrets. It made others more perceptible, and it gave her the end advantage.

"Din Djarin earned the mudhorn as the signet of his Clan," the woman explained easily in that soothing voice of knowledge. Then it shifted to the protectiveness of a leader to her people. "I only ask your intentions here, wanderer."

"I intend to..."

Ira realized she really didn't know. That wasn't something that happened too often.

"I ask because your situation is a delicate one. If you were to be shown his face it would not break his Creed."

Ira froze and crossed her arms, focusing on the complete darkness that surrounded her. The feel of the wall against her back. The chill rushing through the tunnels.

But she would not let her continue without being sure she knew who she was, or rather what.

"Do you know what I am?" Ira whispered.

"I do now."

"I am your enemy."

"Your kind were. I do not believe you are."

"Where do you find such surety?"

"You wear a braid."

Ira looked up into nothing and lifted her hand to caress the padawan's braid tucked behind her ear. "...Yes?"

"One who does not complete their training cannot represent an order."

"I represented them once," she argued.

"Do you today?"

Ira shook her head. "No. I..." She swallowed past the memories, the ones she'd nearly forgotten in their heavy, painful entirety. "I left," she admitted, finding herself trusting the woman entirely. Almost as if she were her own leader. "I wear this braid to honor the memory of my master and those I left behind. But I know I would have left regardless in the end. The way of the Jedi is one void of love. That is not a life I will ever be able to lead."

She loved too deeply and hurt too much to ever want to feel any of it in the end.

There was a pause as the air seemed to settle into a land of in-betweens and confliction tossed and turned in currents seen only by her. Then it settled and Ira pushed herself off of the wall. The Armorer's presence stopped before her and she sensed a nod, one of acceptance and... care.

Those who hid their soft interiors behind hard shells were often her favorite people. And the Armorer instantly made the list with ease.

"This is why you alone are capable of staying with Din Djarin and the child. That is why, if you wish it, if he does, you may join his clan."

Ira remembered what she told the other Mandalorian earlier. "A clan of three."

"Yes."

"I'm not sure it'll come to that," she muttered, smiling nervously at the very thought.

He hated her, after all. And she wasn't supposed to care. But the woman beneath the fog cared more than she would ever admit.

"It may."

Ira didn't even want to risk asking what joining his clan meant she would have to do. Mandalorian's found comfort in their helmets. But she would suffocate within one, where all the senses she relied on would be stripped away.

It better not have meant that.

"If it does," she said, hesitantly. Carefully. "Thank you."

The woman was silent for a moment. Then—"This is the Way."

Ira didn't say it back (that would have been horribly inappropriate, wouldn't it?) and gave the Armorer a deep nod. As she left, making plans to stop by a stall and pick up a change of clothes before returning on her speeder to the ship, she paused at the mouth into the forge.

When she looked back, the presence of the Armorer stood and watched her go.

Ira smiled at her, hoping this wasn't the last they'd see of each other.

"May the Force be with you."