The Mandalorian looked at himself in the full-length mirror in his room. He was wearing his full armour but had his helmet under his arm. He didn't often look at himself in his armour without his helmet on, with no real opportunities to access a mirror as long as this one. But he looked upon the beskar with content and pride. It was the cleanest it had been in weeks. He'd spent a good two hours polishing the iron himself. He did it meticulously; the way he was taught when he was just a boy – the way that had been ingrained in him for decades. He used a cloth to wipe at the iron with the cleaning solution, running it across the metal over and over. It was almost a meditative process, and it had been worth it. All the grime had disappeared, and the metal shone in a way it hadn't in a long time.
It was perfect for the occasion – perfect for the Founders Ball.
It had been weeks in the making, and he knew that Venelia was glad that it had finally arrived. For the Mandalorian, much of the past few weeks had been spent with Venelia. When she worked with the King and Queen, other allies and advisors, he watched as she used the reconnaissance information to inform the plan of attack for Fidelis. He watched and listened with pride, having coached her outside of these meetings with the help of some old tactic and strategy books he had on the Crest.
But even with the coaching, there were times during the meeting when she specifically asked for his opinion on an aspect of the plan. When she did, the Mandalorian was grateful that his face was concealed as it heated up from all the eyes on him as he spoke.
But the only eyes he really focused on were hers.
He had never planned to spend this much time with the runaway duchess, and yet he didn't find himself avoiding her. In this place that was so different to anything he was used to, Venelia was his solace. Even though the people on Olis were kind, she was the only one who made him feel comfortable here. He'd grown used to her company, which surprised him. He was used to being alone, or for the other members of the Roost to be around, but Venelia's presence was different – calming and welcoming. There were times when he had even forgotten she was there, he had become so used to her presence.
That feeling of comfort was never more apparent than the times they spent talking about nothing and everything. They would sit in his room on the chaise lounge for hours at night, and he was surprised at how much Venelia had revealed to him about her parents, about her ex-betrothed.
She told him tales of her parents from when she grew up – the best parts and the parts she had said she wished she could forget. Her smile would light up the moonlit room, or her eyes would glisten with tears.
"You don't have to tell me if it makes you sad," he told her one night when a tear dropped on her cheek after she told him a story of when her father spilt wine on the Ambassador of Naboo.
Venelia had given him a small smile as she wiped the tear away and shook her head. "I want to tell you. Even though it hurts to speak about them, it helps to remember these things – celebrating them and remembering all the good they contributed not to just my life, but to the lives of Fidelians. It makes the hole they left in my chest feel a little healed for a bit."
The Mandalorian had nodded in understanding. Even though he did not talk of his parents, or really think about them because it hurt too much, he understood the need to do so in order to grieve.
Venelia's parents seemed like they were good people, and he did not wish their kind of demise on anybody. But mostly, he wished they were still alive so they could see the kind of woman their daughter was and how she had rallied for Fidelis' reclamation to honour and secure their legacy – but he was sure they already knew, wherever they were.
Those kinds of thoughts about Venelia had appeared in his mind suddenly these few weeks – the ones that admired her. When he would see her face after she left the strategy meetings with him, her optimism made an unfamiliar warmth bloom in his chest.
He would never admit it aloud, but seeing her step lighter with her shoulders back as she walked tall – the confidence that was within outwardly shown in her body, he liked seeing her that way.
He could never imagine how hard these past two months have been for her, but seeing the way she'd transitioned from the runaway 'princess' he found weeks ago to the growing confident ruler she was now, he almost felt proud – maybe even privileged to see the beginnings of the great ruler she would make.
And that surprised him too – because when had those feelings of pride and admiration manifest in him?
He run a gloved hand through his hair, now grown into the patchy trim he'd given it several weeks ago, before putting his helmet on. He took a deep breath before making his way to the door of his room and unlocking it. Once he stepped out into the corridor, he walked down past the ornate planter boxes holding native plants and to the door adjacent to his room.
Venelia's room.
He knocked gently on the door after he took a few moments to take a few deep breaths. Attending a ball was not something he has ever done before, and the idea of being in a large room with tens of guests, drinking wine and dancing dances he'd never learnt made an unfamiliar feeling of panic surface in his chest. What if he did the wrong thing and embarrassed not only himself but Venelia too?
Before he had time to ponder it anymore, the door opened to reveal a lady's maid. He went to speak but the girl curtsied at him, leaving him feeling awkward; he was unaccustomed to such things.
"Mandalorian, Duchess Venelia is expecting you. She's just getting ready."
"Oh, uh, good. I'll just wait out here," he said, stepping back from the door.
The lady's maid shook her head, a frown etching her features. "The Duchess asked for you to be let in when you arrived. So, please, come in." She stepped aside and the Mandalorian's mouth gaped under his helmet.
"She...she wants me in there?" He asked cautiously.
"Yes, please, come in," she repeated and opened the door wider for him to come in. There was no point arguing. Venelia had the authority here and if she's requested this, her lady's maids wouldn't stop until they'd fulfilled the request – as it had been in the weeks they'd been here.
The Mandalorian carefully walked into the room. It was much like his own, but much bigger. The large bed was in the centre of the room, encased with marble pillars at each corner. The balcony doors were open, the wind blowing the sheer white curtains. Off to the side were doors he guessed led to a bathroom. He walked past it all, following the lady's maid to another room to the left of the bed, on the side of the balcony.
She knocked on the door gently. "The Mandalorian is here, my lady," she informed Venelia.
"You can send him in, Cressida, thank you." He heard Venelia call from inside the room. He looked down at Cressida, and she gestured for him to go in. He looked back at the door, slowly opening it to reveal the small room. His breath caught in his throat when he saw her, making him stop in his tracks.
She was standing on a small podium; another lady's maid was crouched as she fixed the hem of the gown Venelia adorned. It was a soft pink, and the dress' fabric shined almost metallically. It was a ballgown cut, the sleeves ballooned to her elbow, and the chest of the dress was a 'v' cut deeply all the way to the waist, beaded. Her hair was curled, half up in a complicated braid that sat at the back of her head. Small pink flowers were woven delicately into her hair.
Venelia had always been beautiful to him – even when he'd found her dirty and rough on Onderon. But tonight there were no words suitable enough to describe her beauty, but perhaps the most suitable word would be breathtaking — Venelia looked breathtaking. She was breathtaking.
He caught himself and his thoughts of her and took a deep breath as Venelia made eye contact with him in the mirror she was facing, her face breaking out in a smile when she saw him. "Mando, you look nice."
He forced himself to look away from her and down at the beskar she saw him in every day. "I thought my armour needed a clean," he said.
"I didn't even realise how dirty it was, now that you've cleaned it," Venelia smiled at him her violet eyes crinkling as she turned around on the podium, the skirt of the dress fanning out slightly at the movement. The Mandalorian swallowed at the movement, hypnotised by the fabric.
"You're all ready to go, my lady," the lady's maid said after she stood up. "Do you need anything else to be done whilst you attend the ball tonight?"
Venelia smiled at her. "No, that's all. Thank you so much, ladies. You've done a marvellous job."
The Mandalorian watched the way Venelia interacted with her lady's maids. He'd seen how she'd treated all the people that had waited on them throughout the duration of their stay, and it was a contrast to what he had imagined royalty to be like, and how he imagined they would treat those who served them. Venelia was kind to them always – even when they made a mistake, she treated them as friends.
And as the lady's maids beamed at her before they curtsied and left the room, the Mandalorian concluded that Venelia was simply incapable of being any other way.
They were alone now that the lady's maids had left them. Venelia still stood on the podium, and there was an unexplainable charge in the room. The Mandalorian looked at Venelia standing there in her gown and felt his chest tighten.
Venelia placed her arms out and asked him directly, "So, what do you think, Mando?"
The Mandalorian blinked at her. "Of what?"
"Of the dress," Venelia slowly turned around. The skirt fanned out again, making the Mandalorian's heart quicken as he took in the dress on Venelia properly. That unfamiliar emotion blooming in his chest again. "Is it good enough for the ball?" she asked when she faced him again.
"You know I have no idea of those kinds of things," he said.
"Then you're the perfect person to ask."
The Mandalorian looked at Venelia, the sunset streaming in behind her making her look like a deity in that dress. What did he think? He swallowed and stuttered out, "...You look...you look beautiful, Nell."
Venelia's face softened as she took in his words. The Mandalorian felt his face heat beyond belief and he had to rip his gaze away from her violet one, which was so intense he was losing focus. He closed his eyes to realign himself, taking a breath before he opened them and cleared his throat. "Um...are you ready to head down there?"
Venelia shifted and she took a deep breath. Then she gave him a tight smile and nodded. "Ready as I'll ever be."
She held out one of her hands towards the Mandalorian and he looked at it, his eyes widening under the helmet. He looked back at her face, she had this expectant look in her eye, but there was shyness too.
He swallowed and took a breath, moving forward and reaching his gloved hand out to hers, grabbing a hold of it gently – his thumb brushing her knuckles and her fingers wrapping around his tightly. He tried not to focus on the warmth from her hands through the leather of his gloves as she stepped down off the podium, using him as a support.
He lowered their hands before he gently let go, gesturing for Venelia to go ahead of him. She let out a breath as she smiled tightly and walked ahead of him. He followed her out of the dressing room, through her quarters and back out into the hallway.
He closed the door behind them, and he turned to face Venelia as she watched him. She held out her arm and he frowned at it. She seemed to feel his frown as she smiled again. "I need your arm if you're going to escort me."
"What?"
Venelia laughed and moved to grab his arm, holding it up before slipping one of her arms around it, resting her hand in the crook of his elbow. Her fingers rest gently on his flight suit, just above his vambrace. He felt his whole body go on high alert as her body brushed his. "Oh," is all he said. "Sorry, um, I've never escorted someone to a ball before."
Venelia laughed softly. "It's okay, we're in this together."
The Mandalorian didn't know what to say, so he just nodded and led them down the hallway and to the double doors of the ballroom. The heels of Venelia's shoes clicked on the marble floors as they made their way through the winding corridors of Olis' citadel. She was almost his height in heels and as they walked past a wall of mirrors, he couldn't help but notice the way she looked next to him – her dress flowing behind her with a sense of regality that was hard to look away from.
As they began the walk down the corridor to the double doors that opened to the ballroom, music and chatter floated down the hallway through the walls, getting louder when the door opened a crack to let someone through. He felt Venelia slow beside him, her grip on him loosening as her footsteps stopped halfway down the corridor. He stopped and turned back a little to see her take a shaky breath. She looked at him, unknowingly meeting his eyes.
He tilted his helmet. "Is everything okay?"
Venelia let out a shaky breath as she seemingly tried to remain composed. "I'm nervous."
The Mandalorian blinked in surprise. "You are? Why?"
His eyes flicked down to her hands, which she wrung hard enough that her knuckles turned white across her brown skin. "I haven't attended an event like this in months, much less a ball. And this is the first time doing so without my parents with me."
The Mandalorian knew what grieving felt like; he knew it intimately. And he knew that the 'firsts' of things they missed was when it hit the hardest. The first birthday, the first time piloting solo, the first celebration without them. There was no easy way to move through these milestones, you just did. One second, minute, hour at a time. You miss them, and you remember them. But you kept moving forward because that's what they would want you to do. And if you believed it, they would always be there.
No one is ever really gone. Not really, not when they live on in your memory, in the way they shaped you – your actions and in your soul.
"It's just harder than I expected it to be," Venelia continued as she smiled weakly at him. Something in his chest pulled as a group of officials walked past them and Venelia's gaze flittered to them, nodding graciously. The Mandalorian's helmet trained on them as they looked at the pair curiously before they kept moving towards the door. The sounds of the party filtering through briefly as the door opened, then quietened when it closed again.
He took a small step closer to her. "Your parents are always with you, Nell. They would proud of you and what you've done for Fidelis."
Venelia let out a breath. "I know."
The Mandalorian cleared his throat. "I know I'm not them, but I'm here. I will be the whole time."
He watched Venelia's expression fill with gratitude as she smiled tearfully at him. "Thank you, Mando."
He offered Venelia his arm and he couldn't stop the smile that appeared when she chuckled and took it. They resumed their way up the hallway and when they reached the doors, they were met with two kidemonas that stood on either side. The guards bowed at Venelia, greeting her before they opened the doors.
The muffled sounds of chatter and music now become clear as they walked to the top of the grand staircase. The Mandalorian watched as heads turned to them, hushed words shared between guests as they took in the sight of Venelia. He stopped as he felt Venelia squeeze the crook of his elbow and he turned to look at her. He titled his helmet, silently questioning if she was okay, she nodded and then gently lifted the skirt of her dress a little.
The unlikely pair slowly made their way down the stairs, and with all eyes on them, the Mandalorian was doing everything he could to make sure neither of them fell. He felt Venelia's hand tighten on his elbow as they walked, trying to do the same. Everyone looking at them made him nervous, and in all his years fighting as a Mandalorian, he'd never felt more vulnerable than he did in this moment.
When they reached the bottom of the stairs, Venelia was greeted by guests, and she returned their greetings with the grace and poise of the Duchess that she was.
"Duchess Venelia, it is lovely to see you tonight," a man in blue and red robes greeted, inclining his head towards her. "I heard about your parents, you have my deepest sympathies, your grace."
Venelia inclined her head, and he felt her hand tighten again on him. "Thank you, Senator Foryst. This is my guard and escort." She gestured at him and the Mandalorian stiffened at being addressed.
"A Mandalorian, I haven't seen one of your kind in a long while," Senator Foryst spoke, a jovial tone in his voice that was misplaced. The Mandalorian didn't respond, not sure what he could say to that. There was nothing to say.
And that's how the night went on. Venelia stayed with him as they greeted and spoke with numerous guests and delegates. He endured the repeated conversation that marvelled of how a Mandalorian was in attendance, but it was worth it when he was able to see Venelia in duchess mode.
He observed in silent pride; Venelia was a natural leader, she spoke to everyone they met with grace and diplomacy, holding herself highly as she discussed matters of importance with politicians and other royals. He couldn't help but admire her, she held conversations with such ease he envied it. The Mandalorian had never been one to relish in conversing with people, avoiding it where he could, but Venelia seemed to be the opposite, able to have a conversation with anyone about anything. Politicians and guests asked Venelia to dance, to which she only accepted two invitations of, politely declining the rest. The Mandalorian watched from where he stood at the edge of the crowd as she waltzed, her dress fanning out as she spun, a demure smile on her face.
When she returned to the Mandalorian's side after the second dance, she was flushed. The Mandalorian turned as a waiter passed them and plucked a drink off the tray and handed it to Venelia.
Venelia smiled at him and took the drink. "Thank you."
A welcomed reprieve in guests approaching Venelia to talk, the pair watched the dancefloor silently, Venelia sipping her drink occasionally. "Thank you again for being here," she leaned to tell him after a few minutes.
He turned his head to her, baffled. "Where else would I be?"
She shook her head. "I'm serious, Mando. I couldn't do this without you," she told him earnestly.
"What do you mean? Of course, you could've, you're a natural leader, Nell."
Venelia shifted on her feet. "Maybe. But—"
Venelia was interrupted by the sound of fanfare as King Atlas and Queen Gaia entered the room. All heads and bodies turned in the direction of the grand staircase they had descended earlier. Now, the King and Queen were standing at the top of it, both adorned in traditional Olitian dress – white cloth that draped over them, the gold thread woven into the material glittered in the light. Atlas offered his arm to Gaia, who took it with a gracious smile filled with adoration. They descended the stairs together as the music went on, fading to a close as the royalty reached the bottom steps.
"Honoured guests and custodians!" Atlas' voiced boomed through the space. "Welcome to the Idrysi Ball, a celebration of the day Olis was founded over one thousand years ago in the time of the Old Republic as a safe haven for those seeking solace amongst a galaxy ravaged by the ongoing war. Olis was founded on the belief that everyone deserves a life of peace, and in alliance with several other systems, have devoted a long legacy of maintaining a place where everyone is welcomed and can live without fear."
The Mandalorian looked around the room and saw the guests hang on the words of King Atlas. He was a good speaker, commanding the room. Atlas went on, "On behalf of my wife, Queen Gaia, and I, we thank you for your attendance tonight and for your contribution to the commitment to peace and solace we stand for."
King Atlas raised his glass, and the guests mirrored him, including Venelia next to him. "Before we begin with the night's festivities, we would like to take a moment to honour one guest and her family tonight. Duchess Venelia Orestilla of Fidelis," Atlas pointed his glass at Venelia.
Mandalorian felt Venelia shift as her face became a picture of poise, a polite smile on her face as she made eye contact with Atlas and Gaia. "Duchess Venelia has suffered a great tragedy over these few weeks. Not only forced out of her home but grieving the loss of her parents and rulers of Fidelis, Duke Cassius and Duchess Antonina. Tonight, we honour the late Duke and Duchess, and what they stood for as well as the benevolent yet strong rulers they were. Duchess Venelia, may you carry their legacy with you as you rule."
He titled his glass. "To Duke Cassius and Duchess Antonina, may they rest in peace."
The crowd repeated the phrase, their glasses in the air. He looked over at Venelia, who's eyes were glassy with tears. The King went on. "And to Duchess Venelia, long may she reign."
"Long may she reign," the crowd hummed. Venelia swallowed and nodded in thanks before Atlas took a sip of his drink, and the crowd followed. The Mandalorian watched Venelia mouth a thank you to her friend, and he nodded in return.
A royal crier announced that the King and Queen would lead a traditional dance, and the rulers made their way onto the dance floor before the traditional Olitian music began and they began a sequence of complicated steps that took them across the floor swiftly. Guests who knew the dance were welcomed to join in after the first verse, and the Mandalorian watched in amazement as the floor filled with pairs performing.
"Do you know this dance?" he asked Venelia, lowering his head to her ear.
Venelia's eyes widened as she shook her head. "Deus, no. I wouldn't be able to keep up with all those turns."
He smiled under his helmet as the dance came to a close, applause ringing through the room. Another song began, not a traditional one this time. Pairs began moving around the room, slowly sweeping the floor in grand but simple movements.
The Mandalorian watched on until Venelia's voice interrupted him. "Would you like to dance?"
His head turned quickly to her in surprise. "What? Me?"
Venelia grinned at him. "Yes, you."
"But haven't you already danced tonight?" He said with a frown in his voice.
"Yes, but that was a political dance. Just doing my duty as a ruler to maintain relationships with alliances and systems," Venelia told him. She paused as she looked at him through her lashes. "I didn't want to dance with them. But I'd like to dance with you."
He was so stunned at her request he didn't answer for a moment and taking his hesitation as a refusal she rushed to say, "Only if you want to."
He shook his head. "No, it's just...I've never danced before."
Her jaw dropped a little. "Never?"
He shook his head before Venelia smiled at him, placing her drink in the hand of a kidemonas. "Come on, I'll show you."
She placed her hand in the Mandalorian's gloved one and gently led him over to the middle of the dance floor. The Mandalorian followed, pulling back on her hand with some reluctance, but not enough for him to actually stop her from taking him out there.
When they reached the middle of the floor, Venelia turned to him and smiled and positioned his left arm around her waist. The Mandalorian swallowed as his hand encircled her waist, he hadn't held anyone like this before, but she fit so well into his arms that he wondered if it always felt this good to hold someone like this. She held his other hand, holding it out, their palms side by side and their fingers wrapped around each other.
She looked at his helmet and smiled before she stepped back, and he stepped forward instinctively. And then they were dancing.
Even though he'd never danced before, he knew that he was the one who was supposed to be leading. Instead, Venelia stepped into that role, and he wouldn't have it any other way. She whispered the counts so quietly that only he heard them, one, two, three, four, one, two, three, four. He was almost hypnotised by the rhythm she was creating.
The Mandalorian, as he found, was not a good dancer. He stepped on Venelia's toes a few times, he apologised but Venelia just smiled and told him it was fine, not minding as a small laugh escaped her.
He couldn't help but think of how they must look as they danced. Venelia in her beautiful powder pink gown, a duchess born for this, and him in his beskar and flight suit – her complete opposite. They probably looked ridiculous, not making any sense and so completely out of place.
The Mandalorian looked away from Venelia for a moment and at the people around them, curious eyes from delegates, politicians and other royals flittered towards them every now and then to look at them. Frowns and curious looks formed on their faces, expressions of interest as they whispered to each other.
He looked back at Venelia who furrowed her brows at his helmet. The ways she looked at him sometimes, it was like the helmet wasn't even there. "What is it? I can feel how tense you are."
He kept his voice low, it seemed to be the only way to talk to someone when they were this close. "They're all looking."
Venelia's frown deepened as she looked out at the people he referred to. "So? We're just dancing."
"A duchess dancing with a Mandalorian?" The Mandalorian questioned.
Venelia just shrugged. "It's not against the rules."
He looked at Venelia through his visor and softened his gaze. "I just don't want to ruin things for you," he said quietly.
"Ruin things?" She said as a small laugh bubbled out of her. "What could you possibly ruin?"
"I don't know," he said, feeling a little stupid now, but he went on. "If you dancing with me is going to ruin your chances at taking back Fidelis..." He shook his head. "I don't want that for you."
Venelia's gaze softened as she looked at him. He felt her squeeze his hand and the space his pauldron didn't cover on his shoulder reassuringly. "I already have the Atlas and Gaia's support, and they have their allies which support me too. They're the only people that matter. We've been planning the Reclamation for weeks, and if they had their objections, they would've said so by now. Dancing with you is not going to change anything, I promise."
The Mandalorian considered her words before he carefully said, "If you're sure."
She squeezed his hand again. "I'm positive. And besides, they've seen how much you've already helped me. Dancing with you like this...it's the least I can do."
"You don't owe me anything," The Mandalorian shook his head before a secret smile crept into his voice. "Except double the bounty on your head that you promised."
Venelia laughed. "I'll get on that as soon as I can."
"Good, because I'm not cheap."
She looked at him with an unreadable expression. "No, you're not."
The song ended but they continued to dance as the next tune started. The Mandalorian slowly got better; he had always been a quick study. He became more confident in his steps and soon, he was leading Venelia across the floor. He saw some couples twirling their partners, so he tried to twirl Venelia. She laughed in surprise, grinning as he held her again. He smiled under his helmet, that same warmth he'd felt multiple times across these few weeks spreading across his chest.
"I meant what I said before," Venelia said after she settled in his arms again after another twirl, her giggle trailing off as she gazed into his visor. "That I couldn't have done this without you."
"You could've," he replied dismissively. He'd made the mistake of underestimating her before, and he hated that she underestimated herself too...Where did that feeling in him come from?
Venelia shrugged and looked away from him. "Perhaps. But with you here..." her voice trailed off. She pulled her lip between her teeth before she eyed him again with uncertainty. He frowned, and then she said quietly, her eyes unknowingly on his, "Somehow you always make me feel I can do anything."
The Mandalorian watched her flush with her admission, the thermal reaction caught in his visor. He was surprised. Who was he to her? He was nobody, just some random bounty hunter who was supposed to take her to marry some prince. Why did his words even matter to her? He was just saying what he thought – being honest. He had no reason to lie. She really could do anything, and she'd proved it to him more than once.
"No matter what happens with Fidelis," Venelia said bravely, interrupting his thoughts. "Thank you for helping me feel that way. After everything, I didn't know how I would be able to build myself up enough, to find the confidence and the strength to be the ruler Fidelis needs. And even though I'm still trying to piece myself back together, and I don't know if I ever will be completely okay again after all this, I'm thankful to have met you and to have learnt from you and drawn strength from you and your words. I didn't know how much I would need that. I thought I could do this on my own, but now I know that I couldn't have. Not without you."
The Mandalorian didn't know how to respond, but nothing could stop the way his heart tightened at her words. The way she was looking at him, she wouldn't know it, but she was looking directly into his eyes. How was that possible? How did she see him under the beskar?
He didn't know how or when it happened, but the feeling snuck up on him and ambushed him, making it impossible to dodge or avoid. The feeling of falling for Venelia happened so easily that he didn't even realise it was happening.
It was unavoidable, for it was impossible to not fall for her. She was brave, and she was kind. She was strong and willing to do anything for those that she loved – she would put it all on the line if it meant they would be safe. She was driven and he admired her tenacity to get what she wanted – which might also be her flaw, her stubbornness and unwavering will to achieve what she set out to do. The way she preserved in the face of adversity – she'd lost everything that had ever mattered to her, and yet she woke up every day and found a way to keep going and save her planet and her people.
But the way she made him feel, he hadn't felt this way ever. She was unjudging, and never scrutinised his relationship with his Creed and what it meant to him – she accepted it at face value and even asked to learn more, something she didn't have to do.
They started as reluctant allies, working together only out of desperation and necessity, and in his case, money. But as these weeks rolled on, and they spent more time together, the Mandalorian had found himself enjoying her company and finding little ways to spend time with her – little ways to make her smile. And the gratification he got when he saw those violet eyes light up and a smile spread across her face was not a feeling he expected to crave – he never expected to enjoy making her happy.
He didn't know when it all changed from allies to friends, and now to whatever this is, but the Mandalorian did know that he liked her – really liked her – a lot more than he should. It was different to any kind of feeling he'd had with anyone else – different to Xi'an. There was nothing there. Nothing that felt anything close to this, close to how she made him feel by just breathing next to him, or when she smiled. He'd become addicted to the warmth she gave him in his chest – a warmth that hadn't been there since his parents were alive; the last time he'd ever felt love.
And maybe he didn't love her yet, but he knew he would. It was just a matter of time. And he knew there was nothing he could do about it.
Resigned to how he felt now, the Mandalorian, for the first time, didn't stop himself as he pulled her closer, so their chests were flush against each other, and her head was next to his helmet. "I'm glad I could be that for you, Nell. But it's all you, it's always been there. You were born for this, don't forget that."
He felt her arms tighten around him as they swayed to the music as the song ended. A smattering of applause for the musicians. He slowly untangled himself from her, pulling away as the ballroom filled with chatter as the musicians took a break. Venelia smiled at him, giving him a small curtsey. He returned the smile and inclined his head, and suddenly wished she saw that he smiled back.
A senator from a planet he didn't care to remember approached Venelia and pulled her into a conversation with some other politicians. As she turned away, the Mandalorian lifted his eyes to where King Atlas and Queen Gaia stood, overlooking the crowd from their thrones on the other side of the ballroom. The King and Queen watched him and Venelia with blank expressions, as a person in a grey uniform walked away and into the darkness.