“Why didn’t you have it already, if you wanted it so badly?” he throws at her like he must long to throw the darksaber, and his face might be blank as ever, but there’s as much anger in his voice as she’s ever heard him unleash.
It would be a lie to say it doesn’t spark something in her, and an even bigger one to say she doesn’t welcome it, doesn’t embrace that fire blossoming up in her gut, doesn’t want to let it burn away the guilt and the shame and just push it onto him instead, let him go up in flames in her place for daring to remind her of what she’d rather forget.
“No,” she says, keeping her face blank as his (not thinking of her sister, the careful mask of her face) as she crowds in on him, satisfied when he rocks a step back, “you don’t get to ask that - not some orphan who’s never even seen Mandalore, not you,” and if that makes his face move at last, she’ll ignore that too.
The Hero Flying Around Saving Face (The Mandalorian, Din/Bo-Katan)
It would be a lie to say it doesn’t spark something in her, and an even bigger one to say she doesn’t welcome it, doesn’t embrace that fire blossoming up in her gut, doesn’t want to let it burn away the guilt and the shame and just push it onto him instead, let him go up in flames in her place for daring to remind her of what she’d rather forget.
“No,” she says, keeping her face blank as his (not thinking of her sister, the careful mask of her face) as she crowds in on him, satisfied when he rocks a step back, “you don’t get to ask that - not some orphan who’s never even seen Mandalore, not you,” and if that makes his face move at last, she’ll ignore that too.