Stowaway | A Mandalorian Love Story | Din Djarin x OC

Chapter One: The Escape

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AUTHOR'S NOTE at end of chapter

SUGGESTED LISTENING: 

(Every chapter I'm going to include some scores and/or songs that would be fun to listen to while reading that specific chapter)
- The Mandalorian Theme - Ludwig Goransson | ...to set the tone
- Minor Swing - Rachel Portman (From Chocolat) | ...gathering in the square
- Escape from East Berlin - Daniel Pemberton (From The Man From U.N.C.L.E.) | ...the chase
- Se sei qualcuno è colpa mia - Ennio Morricone (From My Name is Nobody) | ...all aboard

Thank you so much again for reading, I hope you like it!!! <3
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"It's in your blood."

An icy voice snaked around me, circling my spine and squeezing. I wrapped my arms around myself, trying to steady the fearful, uncontrollable shaking. My eyes tried to focus in the pitch dark of the cargo hold but could make out nothing but a sea of amorphous black.

"You can't hide forever," the voice echoed again, this time accompanied by an urgent banging, coming closer and closer. "It's in your blood."

The floor shook. I put my hands over my ears and cried out.

"KYRA!"

I shot up and gasped for breath, grasping at the gritty brown blanket wrapped around me. As I steadied my breathing, my eyes adjusted to take in the room around me — the same rickety little room as usual.

"Kyra, I'm not working your shift for you! I know you're not still sick, don't make me come in there!" The door shook with Marfa's urgent pounding.

"Alright, alright," I shouted to him, hopping across the room and pulling on a pair of dingy trousers. I opened the door. "Can I help you?"

"Are you kidd'n' me?" Marfa's red face looked bewildered, and his massive, bushy eyebrows furrowed. "Don't you know what time it is? You were supposed to be down in the saloon half an hour ago."

He had nog stains down his tunic and wiped beads of sweat off his forehead with a dirty dishrag.

"Sorry, I overslept. I'll be right down."

He rolled his eyes and retreated back down the creaky stairs, each footstep heavier than the last. Poor Marfa. He was probably genuinely worried I'd died of my "fever" that had kept me from helping with the big Krayt dragon situation. Grumpy old tauntaun that he was, I had a lot to thank him for — not least of all letting me sleep in this shoddy-but-perfectly-livable little room above his rough-yet-reliable drinking establishment.

After dressing quickly and throwing my copper hair back into a thick braid, I relieved him of bartending duty for the night. The saloon was uncharacteristically full — humans and Tusken Raiders mingling with a conviviality I had never seen. Great, I thought to myself begrudgingly. I skipped the party and the party came to me.