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Summary
A Mandalorian and an EduCorps Historian walk into a bar. The Mandalorian starts a fight. The Historian starts a lesson.
The conversation starts a realization, a reckoning, and a revolution.
(Please read the tags before reading. This gets Heavy before it gets better.)
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👑👑👑
fav/memorable moments ⚠️ SPOILERS ⚠️
- “S’cuy Jetii!” the Mando called. “Gar verd’ika ori’copikla! Tion gar gai?”
Then he stepped toward her kid.
Sabers would do next to nothing against Beskar, and hers was currently dismantled for stealth.
She had the Force, though.
She planted her feet and gripped the support pole of a nearby awning in the Force, ripping it free and dropping the cloth over the Mandalorian. The pole itself she wielded like a club, smacking the figure beneath the awning.
He managed to evade a few hits, wriggle out of the entanglement, and surge up into her space. She dropped the pole and gripped every bit of the figure that wasn’t beskar and slammed him against the wall of the alley.
“You know what they say,” she growled. “If you would take the Padawan, make sure the Master is dead first.”
“Tion copaani riduur?” the Mando gasped, and her senses in the Force stuttered as they glanced over the skin bared by the twisting of his flight suit, picking up the surface emotions there. That mix of respect and interest was not what she expected to feel off of him, and it cost her a second of focus.
The next thing she knew, he was wrestling her almost gently to the ground and….
Huh.
Putting his own armor on her?- “What the fuck, Vod, you married one? I am all for helping the Mand’alor but….”
"Look, look. You would have too! They put their kid behind them and then proceeded to smack my ass about like I owed them a fortune and they were the debt collectors coming for the interest without ever drawing a weapon or even moving from their one-being shield wall!”
The skeptical Mandalorian looked over at the Jetii who was currently making sure her verd’ika was actually doing their coursework.
“That is pretty mandokar…”
“It was hot as kark,” their ori’vod corrected with a snort. “They pinned me to a wall as I was bleeding internally and I knew they were my forever.”
“Now you just gotta find a way to tell them what it means.”
“... Kriff.”- “My husband is terrible at communicating. Knight Corbilles, I am keeping my last name.”
“Of course, ner riduur,” the brown Mando, who - now that she was looking - was missing a piece of shoulder armor, agreed instantly. In the Force, he felt… loving, open and honest and more passionate than anyone should be with someone they’d just met.
“How long have you….”
“I’ve been here three days, married two days. I spent one day yelling at him about kidnapping and ambush proposals. I only count the marriage from when he did it properly, so I could agree and say vows back. Then I spent yesterday yelling at the rest of ner dee ku tay.”
“It’s ner di’kute, my beloved.”
“Right. Language lessons are… ongoing. Suffice to say, the threat posed by the latest Mandalorian Hunt is greatly exaggerated.” - “S’cuy Jetii!” the Mando called. “Gar verd’ika ori’copikla! Tion gar gai?”
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