The Mandalorian: Exploitable Weakness
Jan. 20th, 2021 11:12 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
jordannamorgan posting in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
prose_alchemistTitle: Exploitable Weakness
Author:jordannamorgan
Archive Rights: Please request the author’s consent.
Rating/Warnings: G.
Characters: Din Djarin and Grogu.
Setting: Between seasons one and two.
Summary: Din makes a truly horrifying realization.
Disclaimer: “The Mandalorian” belongs to LucasFilm and Disney. I’m just playing with it.
Notes: Written for the prompt of “Squeak” atfan_flashworks.
When the shrill squeaking started, Din Djarin nearly banged his helmet on the edge of the access panel he was head-and-shoulders deep in.
Instantly he abandoned his work, dropping from the side of the Razor Crest’s hull to land silently on soft grassy ground. As he drew his blaster and ran forward, following the sounds of distress across the meadow where the ship had landed, there was only one gut-wrenching thought in his mind.
The kid’s in trouble.
A short while earlier, the Crest had taken minor damage in yet another skirmish with a fellow bounty hunter, leading Din to make a pit stop for repairs on this seemingly uninhabited moon. The water tanks needed refilling anyway, and besides, the kid had been cooped up for too long within the confines of the ship. Walking on solid ground and breathing unfiltered air for a few hours would probably do him some good. If there were animals in the forest beyond the meadow, perhaps Din could even hunt some fresh meat for the voracious little thing.
Now the idea of encountering native animals took on an entirely different implication, and the Mandalorian could only berate himself for letting his foundling wander off. There had been no signs of a threat from anything predatory in the tall, breeze-ruffled grasses surrounding the Crest… but he should have known better.
At least it wasn’t hard to track the high-pitched squeaks of terror. They led him through the grass and over to the edge of the forest, where he saw the tan bundle that was the back of the kid’s robe, huddled halfway under a thick clump of undergrowth. Without hesitation, he swept in to snatch up his charge—and something came out of the shrubbery with him, clutched tightly in tiny green hands.
It took Din a moment to process the fact that the small, squirming thing in the kid’s grasp was some kind of rodent.
Furthermore it was this animal, and not the kid, which produced the piercing squeaks that alarmed Din. It was still making those noises at that moment… and when the kid happily started to wrestle the little creature into a swallowing position, Din understood exactly why.
“…No, wait!”
Hastily he tucked the kid into the crook of his left arm, holstered his blaster, and pried the rodent free from astonishingly determined little fingers. Then, for a somewhat ridiculous moment, he simply stood there holding them both well apart. As the kid whined and kicked and strained to reach for his intended snack, the hunter stared down at the tiny thrashing critter in his other hand: taking in the sight of silver-brown fur, a long tail with a tufted tip, big ears and big eyes.
After a lengthy hesitation, Din slowly bent down and opened his hand an inch above the leaf-littered ground, allowing the frightened animal to bound away into the bushes.
When he straightened and turned his attention back to the kid, he was met by the most stinging expression of betrayal he had ever seen.
“…Don’t look at me like that,” he protested weakly. “I promise I’ll find you something… uglier.”
The kid blew an indignant raspberry. Din sighed and carried him back aboard the Crest to fetch his carrying bag, resolving not to leave him unattended again during their layover.
It was not until a few minutes later, while he was tucking the kid into the bag, that it fully hit him. Maybe it was just the angle, looking down at the still-grumpy little face that stared up at him.
Big ears. Big eyes.
An almost physical impact swept through the Mandalorian, and he slumped back against a bulkhead.
I’m a member of the most legendary warrior tribe in the galaxy. I’ve killed more people than I can count. I inspire fear just by walking into a room…
And I have a weakness for things that are small and cute.
…Dank farrik, I’m screwed.
© 2021 Jordanna Morgan
Author:
jordannamorganArchive Rights: Please request the author’s consent.
Rating/Warnings: G.
Characters: Din Djarin and Grogu.
Setting: Between seasons one and two.
Summary: Din makes a truly horrifying realization.
Disclaimer: “The Mandalorian” belongs to LucasFilm and Disney. I’m just playing with it.
Notes: Written for the prompt of “Squeak” at
fan_flashworks.When the shrill squeaking started, Din Djarin nearly banged his helmet on the edge of the access panel he was head-and-shoulders deep in.
Instantly he abandoned his work, dropping from the side of the Razor Crest’s hull to land silently on soft grassy ground. As he drew his blaster and ran forward, following the sounds of distress across the meadow where the ship had landed, there was only one gut-wrenching thought in his mind.
The kid’s in trouble.
A short while earlier, the Crest had taken minor damage in yet another skirmish with a fellow bounty hunter, leading Din to make a pit stop for repairs on this seemingly uninhabited moon. The water tanks needed refilling anyway, and besides, the kid had been cooped up for too long within the confines of the ship. Walking on solid ground and breathing unfiltered air for a few hours would probably do him some good. If there were animals in the forest beyond the meadow, perhaps Din could even hunt some fresh meat for the voracious little thing.
Now the idea of encountering native animals took on an entirely different implication, and the Mandalorian could only berate himself for letting his foundling wander off. There had been no signs of a threat from anything predatory in the tall, breeze-ruffled grasses surrounding the Crest… but he should have known better.
At least it wasn’t hard to track the high-pitched squeaks of terror. They led him through the grass and over to the edge of the forest, where he saw the tan bundle that was the back of the kid’s robe, huddled halfway under a thick clump of undergrowth. Without hesitation, he swept in to snatch up his charge—and something came out of the shrubbery with him, clutched tightly in tiny green hands.
It took Din a moment to process the fact that the small, squirming thing in the kid’s grasp was some kind of rodent.
Furthermore it was this animal, and not the kid, which produced the piercing squeaks that alarmed Din. It was still making those noises at that moment… and when the kid happily started to wrestle the little creature into a swallowing position, Din understood exactly why.
“…No, wait!”
Hastily he tucked the kid into the crook of his left arm, holstered his blaster, and pried the rodent free from astonishingly determined little fingers. Then, for a somewhat ridiculous moment, he simply stood there holding them both well apart. As the kid whined and kicked and strained to reach for his intended snack, the hunter stared down at the tiny thrashing critter in his other hand: taking in the sight of silver-brown fur, a long tail with a tufted tip, big ears and big eyes.
After a lengthy hesitation, Din slowly bent down and opened his hand an inch above the leaf-littered ground, allowing the frightened animal to bound away into the bushes.
When he straightened and turned his attention back to the kid, he was met by the most stinging expression of betrayal he had ever seen.
“…Don’t look at me like that,” he protested weakly. “I promise I’ll find you something… uglier.”
The kid blew an indignant raspberry. Din sighed and carried him back aboard the Crest to fetch his carrying bag, resolving not to leave him unattended again during their layover.
It was not until a few minutes later, while he was tucking the kid into the bag, that it fully hit him. Maybe it was just the angle, looking down at the still-grumpy little face that stared up at him.
Big ears. Big eyes.
An almost physical impact swept through the Mandalorian, and he slumped back against a bulkhead.
I’m a member of the most legendary warrior tribe in the galaxy. I’ve killed more people than I can count. I inspire fear just by walking into a room…
And I have a weakness for things that are small and cute.
…Dank farrik, I’m screwed.
© 2021 Jordanna Morgan
no subject
Date: 2021-01-21 01:11 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2021-01-21 01:56 pm (UTC)