Archive of Our Own ^beta

A salty taste clinging to the tongue. Blue flames licking rainbows along softened beskar. The clang of metal beating the future safety of her people into each piece of armor. The aura of the great forge of Mandalore thrummed through the head Goran’s pulse.

Despite the aches and bruises, Lessa would never give up her smithing duties for anything. Connecting to the Manda let her feel the galaxy and it sang back to her in between the drumbeats of her heart.

It was a spell difficult to break, but the familiar sounds of her nephew smacking into her foundry door when it didn’t open quickly enough never failed to attract her attention.

Lessa set the pauldron aside to cool, turning in time to catch Jango’s shoulders so he didn’t trip into her forge.
“Where’s the fire, ad? Did Silas set Jaster on fire again?”

It was meant to pause his racing thoughts and it worked as the younger mando’ade blinked, squinting as he caught up to her words.
“What do you mean again? I thought buir was careful with flamethrowers?”

She laughed, turning the flames down so she could safely leave without worry.
“Why do you think he tries to keep you from getting burn scars? They’re hard to heal, especially around the joints when the patient keeps moving. That’s why Jaster has a mild limp when it’s extra cold.”

Steering the teen out of her workshop, the goran signaled to her assistant before she headed toward the exit, gripping Jango’s shoulder.
“No more distractions, why were you breaking down my door?”

He tensed a little, eyes getting impossibly wide.
“It’s buir! Well, I don’t know. He’s in the throne room and he’s not responding to anyone. I think it’s some Manda osik, he keeps glowing and there’s… you’ve gotta see it, ba’vodu. It’s impossible.”

Lessa just nodded and let him go as he broke into a jog, locking her tools and helmet into place on her belt so they didn’t bounce off as they wove through the keldab.

She knew Jaster didn’t particularly like just looming on the throne they’d dug out of the proverbial basements of Sundari. He’d protested that it made him look pretentious, complaints that had grudgingly quieted once he’d seen tapestries of past alor’e that made him look tame in comparison.

The fact that they’d left the mythosaur skull in storage was kept quiet though.

The pair slid around the last corner and smacked right into a crowd of furious whispers that parted like a slug against plasma blades. The closer they got to the doors, the goran realized she could practically taste the waves of power emanating from the throne room, levels that usually weren’t felt outside of the forge.

Lessa tugged her nephew behind out of a habit of protection and slowly poked her head into the main entrance to their home.

Instead of fresh air or even the scent of blaster oil, she got a faceful of scales that smelled like newly-mined beskar and blasterfire.

Craning her neck with a sharp ache she didn’t realize she’d earned, the head Goran looked up… and up… and even higher up… right into the slanted eyes of an impossibility.

A mythosaur.

A mythosaur, here in Keldabe.

She didn’t even realize she was staring until something bumped her face and she got knocked back into Jango who’d snuck up behind her, his quick arms helping her stabilize.
“See?? What’s he doing, ba’vodu? I know he’s magic, but not even those Jetii can bring people back from the dead.”

Removing her gloves, Lessa reached up to poke the massive creature’s nose, startling into a laugh as the snort of hot air blew her flyaway hairs.
“It’s not really here, ad’ika. Not physically anyway. Let’s find your buir and see what’s wrong.”

Clicking her tongue as if this ancient symbol was a regular cat, she shoved the mythosaur’s giant face away so she could climb over its tail, ignoring the loud sniffs at her back while her boots hit stone once again.

Rounding the massive front leg, they finally found Jaster himself, sprawled in the throne with his head on his hand and obviously deep in thought.

Despite that being a normal, and rather imposing, posture for the Mand’alor, the fact that his eyes were open and glowing made him even more menacing.

The runes glittering over his lengthy horns in their own kind of lazy dance, but he didn’t seem to notice anything around him, including the creature now curled around his seat of power.

Something skittered against Lessa’s boot, her glance identifying a knife that she bent to scoop up without so much as a pause, absently offering it to Jango.
“Fight happen earlier or do we need a weapons lecture?”

He sighed loud enough to reach her, taking the weapon with a cloth.
“Traitor that got traumatized by the warning looming over us. He’s locked up with several others who pissed themselves in the process before turning themselves in.”

She grunted as a moment of terror slid past her periphery, waving aside the growl as she finally reached the steps and made the small climb to kick her best friend’s boot hard enough it knocked his elbow off the armrest.

In an instance, motion exploded in every direction. Jaster’s head dropped, his ribs crashed against the dark stone, the glow extinguished, and the suddenly dim air was filled with the mythosaur’s roar right into Lessa’s face.

Yelps and the sound of clattering metal echoed off the beskar-laced walls, but the head Goran was unmoved as she waited out the chaos, watching Jaster as he picked himself up and stretched, brown eyes blinking up at her.
“Les? What’s wrong?”

Lessa sighed, gesturing above their heads as the mythosaur lowered its head to sniff at the Mand’alor.
“You tapped into something and summoned this beastie.”

Jaster tipped back to gaze where he was pointed, but he didn’t seem to recognize anything, an eyebrow raised when he looked at her once more.
“There’s nothing there. How late is it and have you slept?”

Her eyes began to narrow, but she could see he wasn’t trying to lie. He was genuinely concerned, a feeling that always made her melt. He was such a wonderful idiot.

Pulling on her own power, she grabbed his left wrist at the pulse point and lifted the mental veil, tipping his face so he could lock eyes with the creature. This time, he could definitely see it, his face going pale at the massive teeth inches from his person.

The sensible fear made Lessa laugh, her free hand patting the mythosaur’s nose again and winning a pleased rumble.
“Apparently conjuring a long dead creature from our past is enough to prevent an assassination attempt, or several. You scared your son though, he couldn’t get through to you.”

The switch in focus was swift as Jaster spun and reached out for Jango, pulling the teen into a half-hug.
“I’m sorry, ad’ika. I was worrying about ways to support our people and I guess I got a bit lost in thought. I’m alright, I promise.”

Jango just snuggled in a bit more, but Lessa could hear Jaster’s kute creaking slightly.
“I’ll add waking you from your Manda thoughts to the guards’ duties. Now, let’s say goodbye to our new friend and get you home.”

She watched as her friend nuzzled his son’s hair a little before his hand reached to touch the end of one massive horn, the mythosaur leaning into the touch before it began to fade. With the creature’s bulk gone, the room felt enormous and brighter, though Lessa could see that didn’t matter.

Helping Jaster stand, she stayed put as a visual shield to give them privacy before a hand to her shoulder sent her turning once more. It was Jango, smiling a little crookedly as he playfully bumped foreheads.
“Thanks for helping, ba’vodu.”

Lessa’s grin was just as big as she loudly kissed his cheek just to disgust him.
“Always, ad’ika. Aliit forever.”

She'd tell Silas later that it was time to pull that skull out of storage, Jaster could deal with it.