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Din can tell something is wrong the minute he walks off the ship. Luke and Grogu meet him on the landing pad as always, but thereâs something in the way Luke holds himself, the simple way he says âHey.â
Din doesnât run down the gangway, but itâs a near thing. âWhatâs wrong?â
In which Din and Luke deal with some of Groguâs more recent trauma, Din gets wet, ripcords are abused, and both of them are trans.
So this was supposed to go up for dinluke week day 6⌠and then day 7⌠and now itâs now ^^; BUT Iâm still really excited for it and I hope yall are too!
Title inspired by Florence + The Machineâs What the Water Gave Me
AO3 Link
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Din can tell something is wrong the minute he walks off the ship. Luke and Grogu meet him on the landing pad as always, but thereâs something in the way Luke holds himself, the simple way he says âHey.â
Din doesnât run down the gangway, but itâs a near thing. âWhatâs wrong?â
âI-â Luke sighs. âNothingâs wrong, Iâll tell you later.â
written for @dinlukenation's dinluke week day 5! prompt was: knight/prince au.
read it on ao3 if u prefer (5.6k words)
Din is covered in sand and krayt dragon blood and other various fluids when he enters the inn, the smell of it lingering in his nostrils and causing everybody to go silent once he steps past the doorway. Peli swoops the kid from his arms as soon as she sees him, and itâs testament to how exhausted he is that he doesnât protest. She points up the stairs, âBathâs waiting for you,â and he only spares her a grateful nod before trudging to his room. Heâd usually be a little more considerateâ beskar is heavy, and Peliâs stairs donât deserve his clomping footstepsâ but given the day heâd just had, he figures heâs allowed to take a few liberties.
Maybe thatâs why he doesnât notice Luke the first time, because when he comes back downstairs, body and armour clean, vision still tinged the same red fog as the colour of the dragonâs stomach lining, he finds it hard to notice anything but Luke.
Heâs sitting in the corner, alone, and thatâs the first thingâ nobody ever came to Peliâs alone, or if you did thereâd be someone trying to swindle you or sell you something within the first five minutes. But heâs just sitting there on his own, a berth of at least four or five seats between him and any other patrons.
The other thing is that heâs so still. Head bent over some papers on the table in front of him, empty plate pushed to the side. Hands steepled in front of his nose, only one hand gloved, brow furrowed. For all appearances, he held himself with the calmness of a man who knew he had all the time in the world and knew exactly what he was going to do with it all.
Din tears his eyes away when Peli sets Grogu down on the seat next to him, along with two covered bowls of stew. He reaches to gather Grogu in his right arm while balancing the bowls in his left, to take up to this rooms to eat, but Grogu rips the covering off one of the bowls and in the blink of an eye is wrist deep in food, half of it already smeared over his mouth. Din stares at him, the grainy feeling in his brain meaning itâs a good few seconds before he computes the fact that apparently, heâs so tired even the kid has faster reflexes than him right now. Heâs acutely aware of the way his stomach is cramping with hunger, but he knows getting Grogu to stop eating for the five minutes it will take to move them to their rooms will be more effort than itâs worth.
Peliâs smiling at him, a half-crooked, reluctant twist of her mouth, and Din tilts his head in thanks for watching Grogu as he cleaned up. She nods in return before heading back to the kitchen, and Din settles in to wait for Grogu to finish his dinner. He runs a gentle hand over his head, before letting him grab hold of his thumb and chew on his glove. Itâs clean. Mostly.
His thoughts are interrupted when the chair across from him scrapes out with a loud screech, and he looks up to see the dark figure from the corner now sitting at his table.
âHello.â
Din is suddenly glad that his signature response to people introducing themselves unexpectedly to him is to stare them down in silence, because currently, behind his visor, heâs gawping. The man in front of him, for lack of a better word, is bright, even more so now that heâs right there instead of in the corner. Din feels like he canât look at him directly, needs to steal glances through his lashes instead, like a bloody schoolgirl. But at the same time, he canât look away.
âMy name is Luke.â
And the last sign that Din has completely lost his mind and is going delirious with exhaustionâ and perhaps also that heâs getting old if heâs so easily soft for shiny, pretty boysâ is that he answers, before his brain has really caught up to his mouth, âDin.â Not with continued stony silence, not even Mando. His actual name.
âDin.â A smile spreads across Lukeâs face. âItâs nice to meet you.â
Din is thankfully saved from answering when Grogu pulls on his glove a little too hard, overbalancing to tip forward and flip the remainder of his dinner over on the table. Din clucks his tongue, and leans forward to clean up the spill.
âBe careful, kid.â he chides, and heâs in the middle of claiming Groguâs bedtime as his graceful exit from the conversation when Luke holds up his ungloved hand.
âLet me,â he says, and with a wave of his hand, flicks the tissues across the table to clean up the mess, and then sends them flying neatly into the bin across the room.
âWhat,â Din says, âthe fuck.â
That seems to cow Luke a little, or, at least his smile turns sheepish. âSorry,â he says, even though he doesnât seem very sorry at all. In fact, now that Din has been staring at him for a couple of minutes and can decipher some of the twitches of his brow, the jut of his jaw, he seems, of all things, a little smug.
Din refuses to think about how the neat motion of Lukeâs handâ something he was clearly practiced in, confident, preciseâ showed the delicate bones in his wrist, which only made him look more fragile, and Din especially refuses to think about how his mouth had watered with the sudden desire to lick over the joint. He has no interest in competing with some wizard in a weird ego game, no matter how attractive he is, so he gathers Grogu more firmly in his arms and makes to stand, but before he can pick up the other bowl that contains his own dinner, Luke speaks again.
âWait!â
And thereâs something in his voice that makes Din pause; a note that wasnât there before. Itâs not quite a cry for helpâ Din can already tell Luke is too proud for thatâ but itâs close. That brightness that had first caught his eye before is more apparent than ever, and Luke looks at Din with pleading eyes that rivals Groguâs.
God, how is he even prettier like this? He curses himself for being weak, and sits back down.
âSorry.â Luke repeats. His posture as slumped a little, and the bravado from before is all but gone. Itâs like he was trying to be someone else before and now heâs exhausted from the effort. âIâm not very good at this.â
Din tilts his head questioningly.
âMaking friends, I mean.â Luke elaborates.
Din has to stop himself from snorting. The last friend he made was Cara, about ten years ago. He didnât need to make friends. He had the kid. He knew enough people.
Luke takes Dinâs silence as an answer, and changes the subject. âWhat brings you to Naboo?â
This, at least, Din knew how to respond to. âBusiness.â
Lukeâs face goes cheeky. Din knows his answer sounds suspicious on a good day, and he knows that Luke knows that. What he doesnât know is why Lukeâs face now looks like a foundlingâs on Life Day, momentarily flooring Din with this new, relaxed, open expression. Heâs still holding himself incredibly still, but not like before where he was tensed like he was trying to prove something, or even before that in the corner, when he seemed to be propping himself upright with the sheer force of that stillness. Din finds that he likes this version of Luke best so far, bottom lip full with smiling, one dimple sitting on the corner of his mouth, and despite himself, Din finds himself leaning forward.
âWhat brings you to Peliâs?â he asks, trying to level the playing field. It didnât seem fair that Luke already had such an effect on Din, when he was still just sitting there, regarding Din slowly, deliberately.
âWhat,â Luke spreads his hands. His tone is affronted, but the cheeky smile is still on his face. âA man canât come get a drink?â
âTo Peliâs?â Din doesnât keep the incredulousness out of his voice, and he only lowers his voice as an afterthought. No need to get on Peliâs bad side, but if Luke wants to be secretive, thatâs his own business. Din knows what itâs like to hold everything you know tightly to your chest. It would hardly be right for him, of all people, to judge.
âIf Iâm being honest,â Luke says, after the silence between them has stretched out to the wrong side of awkward, âI came over because I noticed you watching me.â
âI was watching you too.â he adds, when Din doesnât reply immediately. Din feels his face go bright red under his helmet, and he watches, transfixed as Lukeâs tongue darts out briefly to wet his lower lip.
âWhy?â he asks, when he remembers how to talk.
Luke gives Din an appreciative once over. âYouâre not bad to look at.â
Itâs such a line that Din is embarrassed it only makes him hotter. He thinks itâs something to do with how Luke has shifted, bodily, the long line of his legs now sprawled out in his seat like heâs on a chaise lounge, not a creaky chair in a dingy bar. But itâs not just that; Luke has shifted in other ways too, and Din canât quite put his finger in it, but thereâs a hungry look in his eyes that wasnât there a minute ago, even though that must have been the very reason Luke made his way over to his table. The brightness has dimmed, not like the spluttering out of a torch, but like coals at the bottom of a fire.
The thing is, Din doesnât do thisâ doesnât indulge. The right thing to do, the safe thing, would be to turn Luke down, gently, but firmly, take Grogu back to his room, go to sleep, and head back to Nevarro tomorrow morning.
âItâs my last night as a free man,â Luke says, watching him with those bright, bright eyes of his. His smile is so sad that Din forgets to ask him to elaborate. He wants to wipe away the downturned tick of Lukeâs mouth, forget about the dragon, about how the kid nearly died, again.
Luke must sense Dinâs resolve caving, because he says, brightening, âSo, what do you say you humour someone on his last night of freedom?â
âWho?â he says, pretending to look around, and Luke laughs, the last thing Din can coherently remember is the feeling of his ungloved fingers wrapping around the sliver of exposed skin between Dinâs glove and vambrace.
+++++
Din wakes up alone.
Not that he was expecting anything else, but thereâs a brief moment while heâs still swimming out of sleep, curled in the warm patch of sunlight thatâs filtering through the window, where he can pretend the phantom heat next to him is Lukeâs body, bare and soft.
When theyâd stumbled up to Dinâs rented room last night, Lukeâs breathy laugh fogging up Dinâs visor as he clumsily bounced his cheek against the beskar in his effort to get closer, closer, Lukeâs clever fingers had snuck to the back of Dinâs neck, looping to pull him in. And even though there was no indication he meant to pull off Dinâs helmet, Din had still flinched, and then marvelled in shock at the way Luke had immediately softened, pulled back, the way heâd been able to read the minute twitches of his body him so accurately already.
âNot the helmet,â heâd said, his voice already a rasp even though they both were still fully clothed.
âOkay.â Luke had said.
And afterwards, when they were both sweaty and Din still trying to catch his breath from quite frankly the most incredible sex heâd ever had in his life, Luke had gotten up without a word, BUT before Din even had the chance to miss him, was back in bed, curled up against Dinâs side, finishing off the knot for the blindfold heâd looped around his eyes.
âIf you want to take your helmet off to sleep,â heâd murmured softly, and then he was out like a light, leaving Din to stare at him open mouthed for the second time in three hours, stunned at the trust, the thoughtfulness, the vulnerable nape of Lukeâs neck.
Heâs taken his helmet off with shaking hands many, many times before, but itâs the first time it feels like a benediction.
He shakes himself out of the memory, and rises out of bed. By the time he comes down the stairs, collected Grogu from Peli who is looking at him with a shit-eating grin on her face, heâs mostly convinced himself that he can live the rest of his life with Luke as a sudden flash of brightness, the scent-memory of his skin on the sheets.
Grogu chatters to Din as they walk from Peliâs towards the Naboo Spaceport, and Din makes all the appropriate noises like he can understand him, and heâs concentrating on making sure his kid is getting the enrichment he needs (he read somewhere once it was very important for early development)so he doesnât notice the unease in the Spaceport at first. But he rounds the corner to where the Razor Crest is parked, and suddenly itâs all there; the prickling silence and sideways glances from the deck crew. Dinâs gaze zeroes in on his ship, and he sees the men waiting outside the Razor Crest.
Not just men. Royal guards, from the look of their deep blue uniforms.
They must be on the lookout, because as soon as he steps foot into the hangar, one shouts, âYou there!â He keeps walking forward calmly, but he shifts his grip on Grogu to one hand and rests his other hand on his blaster.
âYou own this ship?â one of the guards asks once heâs within earshot. The leader, Din notes, spying the gold crescent badge on his breast.
Din nods warily. Heâs half-distracted thinking how he can get Grogu to safety, if it all goes to shit, and the other half is mentally running through all of the shipâs modifications. Heâs pretty sure most of the illegal ones are well hidden enough that a preliminary search wouldnât have found them.
âYou fought the dragon yesterday?â
Din blinks, jolted out of his train of thought, and heâs too startled to lie. âYes?â he says, and then tenses, widening his stance a little. Everybody had seemed ecstatic when heâd come back into town yesterday, but the last thing he needed was lord furious about their precious pet dragon being injured.
âCome with us.â The head guardâs tone brooks no argument, and he doesnât offer any further explanation either. And although his last fifteen years of bounty hunting are all screaming at Din to run, take the kid and get the fuck out of Naboo, thereâs a fuzzy feeling behind his sternum tugging at him to follow that makes him feel lighter than a second ago. Itâs the same way heâd felt when heâd seen Luke in the inn last night, what had allowed Luke to reach across the table and touch him. And inexplicably, it feels well worn, familiar to him.
Din goes with them.
+++++
Din forces them to circle the speeder back around to Peliâs first, where he drops off the kid. She takes Grogu with a fearful look in her eyes, and Din doesnât look at her as he presses his forehead against Groguâs. He doesnât think about how it could be the last time he sees the kid.
The palace at Theed is built on the edge of a cliff, with domes of gleaming jade and its marble walls carved out straight out of the rockface itself. When they pull over the drawbridge, Din can hear the thundering of the waterfalls, and through the windows of the entrance hall, see the vast ocean to one side, glittering in the sun, and the green of the rolling plans on the other side. It was beautiful and grand and a little bit terrifying all at once, if Din was the kind of person who was impressed by that sort of thing.
The entire trip to the palace is silent, and itâs only when theyâre deep into the castle, in front of a huge set of doors, that the head guard finally addresses Din, âWait here,â before he disappears through the doors.
Dinâs stuck outside the grand oak doors, and he briefly contemplates prying one of the rubies or emeralds that are encrusted into the doorâs bolts with his vibroknifeâ could probably get good money for themâ and how he could distract the remaining guards around him for long enough to do it, when the doors open.
Itâs a throne room, that much is clear, with a lush red carpet and floor to ceiling windows along one wall. The sun is at midday height now, and its glare casts long beams of light across the floor, leaning towards the people at the other end of the room. Din steps through the door and takes stock of his new surroundings.
Seated on the throne is the Queen, who Din understands is well beloved and not at all prone to torturing bounty hunters, although her dark expression says otherwise. To her left, sitting on another throneâalthough perhaps lounging would be a better wordâ is a man who Din presumes is the king. In another world, Din knows, instinctively, that he would have been a dangerous opponent, long scar over one eye, shaggy brown hair, gaze sharp and keen. The same can be said for the young woman standing behind him, the same gaze, the same tight line of her lips.
To the Queenâs right stands an old man, white beard and white hair, drab brown robes. He looks mildly more welcoming, mouth drawn up into a soft smile, although Din can still read tension in the way heâs holding himself. And next to himâŚ
Din stops as he looks at the last figure on the left of the room, the warm brightness, the shocked curve of a mouth dropping open. Din remembers how that mouth had opened against his throat last night, hot and wet, and how heâd wanted Luke so badly he thought he might combust.
Luke, who is in front of him right now, in golden robes, nothing at all like the black ensemble he wore last night. Luke, who had disappeared from Dinâs bed this morning without a goodbye.
Din feels the mark he knows Luke bit into the inside of his thigh last night throb for a second, and he has to force himself to keep walking down the room. He stops in front of the thrones, and stares at them for a minute, the five of them assembled in front of him.
âWhat is your name, Sir Knight?â Queen Naberrieâs voice is kind, but thereâs a steel underneath. She doesnât look very happy to be sitting there. Belatedly, Din realises that he probably should have knelt.
Din shakes his head. Itâs hard for him to keep his eyes off Luke. âIâm not a knight.â
Her face doesnât lighten up, exactly, but a flash of humour does cross her face before itâs as gone as quickly as it came. âHow would you like to be addressed then, good sir?â
Din tries to hide his grimace at good sir, although he doesnât think heâs very successful. âJust Mando is fine.â
âMando,â Queen Naberrie says, all trace of laughter gone from her expression. Beside her, the kingâs face goes completely blank, like heâs trying to hide a sudden tide of emotions, and the young woman standing behind him scowls, glaring daggers at Din.
âNaboo is in your debt,â the Queen continues. âWe thank you for your act of service.â It sounds like the words are being forced out of her mouth as she says it.
âWhat?â
The Queenâs expression becomes a little more impatient, a little more sour. Din feels like heâs running out of time, even though he didnât realise there was any sort of rush to begin with. But before she can say anything, the old man standing the right of her chair speaks.
âYouâre Mandalorian?â
âYes.â Dinâs hand goes to his blaster. The old man may not look like much, but Din knew better than to be fooled by appearances. However, the movement doesnât make him any more tense. If anything, it seems to amuse the old man.
âPadmĂŠ,â he says, turning to the Queen. âI donât believe he knows.â
She turns to her other side to look at her husband, and a silent conversation passes between the three of them, quirking of eyebrows and slight flicks of the wrist. Din takes the moment to drink in the sight of Luke, who is still staring straight back at him, eyes glittering. Din wants to rip those golden robes off him where theyâre buttoned up to his neck, run his hands down his sides to the spot where he learnt last night Luke is ticklish, hear the breathy giggle before he firms his touch.
Except Luke is standing next to the throne, not beside him under the coarse sheets, and the distance between them may as well be one of Nabooâs oceans.
âMando,â the Queen says, drawing his attention back to her. âYou slew the krayt dragon yesterday, and in doing so, saved the lives of hundreds of my people. As is tradition, a dragon-slayer is given the princessâ hand in marriage.â She gestures to the girl standing behind the king.
Dinâs thoughts come to a screeching halt, and his eyes flicker to follow the direction of the Queenâs finger. The princessâ arms are still crossed across her chest, and her expression looks more thunderous by the second.
âHowever,â the Queen continues, and Din has to stop himself from sagging in relief, thereâs a however, thank god, âmy daughter is already promised to another. As such, I hope you will be similarly pleased with my sonâs hand in marriage.â
The relief vanishes, and Din turns sharply to look at Luke, whoâs practically glowing looking back at him. But all Din feels is the swirling sickness in his stomach.
âNo.â He can barely hear himself over the rush in his ears.
The Queen raises her eyebrows. âNo?â
âI donât want to marry him.â
âIt is tradition.â The Queen is cool and calm, and it makes Din want to hit something.
âI donât want him!â
His voice bounces off the ceiling. Thereâs a shocked beat of silence, and when Din dares to look at Luke, all the light has left his eyes. And no sooner than Din has caught a glimpse of his face, as if Luke senses his gazeâ which he probably hasâ he turns sharply on his heel and leaves the room.
Queen Naberrie watches him, with an eye far too keen for Dinâs own liking. âI think,â she says slowly. âWe might give these two some time alone.â She stands in a rustle of silk, and gestures for her husband to do the same. She puts a firm hand on her daughterâs shoulders and the old man does the same for the king, guiding them out of the room through a separate door despite the king and the princessâ loud protests.
It leaves Din alone in the throne room, the silence suddenly suffocating around him. The heat from the sun streaming in through the windows no longer feels like an extension of the palace and the view, but instead sharp, urgent, stifling.
Din takes a deep breath, and follows the door Luke had exited through.
It opens out to a courtyard behind the throne room. The air is muggy outside, and he feels the dampness of sweat on his underclothes, the awkwardness of the quiet clank of every movement with the bulk of his armour. Luke is standing on the far side, by a balcony which overlooks the sea.
Din comes to a stop in the middle of the courtyard, unsure if heâs allowed any closer. Last night, he would have said that closing the distance between himself and Luke would have solved any problem between them, healed any miscommunication. He can still feel the phantom strength of Lukeâs fingers laced between his, like a balm to his aching joints. Now, heâs not sure if his presence is welcome at all.
âYou really didnât know?â Luke asks without turning around.
Dinâs tongue feels clumsy in his mouth. âNo.â he says. He knows heâs not saying exactly what he means, because he does, very much, want Luke. Just not like this; passed around like a political jockey, one of the means the end is supposed to justify. Luke, being given to Din like a playing piece in chess, bound to him out of duty, instead of choice. The mere thought of it makes the sickness in Dinâs stomach swell up again.
He doesnât know how to say any of that, so instead, he says, âI wasnât trying to slay a dragon. I was just protecting my foundling.â
Luke gives a startled laugh. âOf course. Thousands of knights actually trying to kill it and you go and do it by accident.â
They lapse into silence. Din wants to get that awful, stricken look off Lukeâs face, but the only way he can think of doing so would be to touch him, just once, softly; cross this vast distance between them and dig until he sees the brightness heâd held to his bones last night. It kills Din to think heâs lost the privilege to comfort him.
âI thought,â Luke says, his voice quiet, wobbly. He takes a breath and starts again. âThey told me yesterday that someone had slain the dragon, and I was to be married the next day. Figures the only dragon-slayer Iâd actually want wouldnât want me back.â
He sounds so self-deprecating, none of the soft sureness Din had seen last night, the cocky slant of his smile when heâd wrapped his mouth around Dinâs dick. Din wants it back so acutely that he can feel it like a physical weight in his ribs. He doesnât like this version of Luke, buttoned up tight, uncertain of Din, of the trembling thing they had cradled between them last night.
But he canât seem to have Luke back without anchoring him to Din, so instead, he says, âI didnât kill the dragon.â
Luke turns around. âWhat?â
âI wounded it, sure. But it was definitely still alive when I last saw it.â
âSo you donât have to marry me.â he adds, when Luke just stares at him, but even as he says it, it feels like thereâs a crack in his heart. This morning, heâd shored up the hole Luke had left with the curled imprint of his body on the sheets, and now itâs all coming back, all the golden light pouring out with how much Din wants, simply, to hold Luke. Not to marry, not even to fuck. Just to hold.
Luke does not seem to be on the same page as him. âSo the dragon is still out there?â
Din nods confusedly, and Luke closes his eyes. âFuck.â he says.
âItâs a good thing, isnât it?â Din says. âYou donât have to marry me.â
âItâs still out there.â Luke repeats, but itâs not a question this time, and Din looks away from how heâs wringing his hands, tries not to think about how much he wants to press his palm against Lukeâs heated skin, in hopes it would loosen some of this sudden nervous energy. Looking away allows his brain to clear up a little, not completely occupied with the sight and thought and smell of Luke Luke Luke, and it hits him all at once.
âItâs still out there. Oh, god. Itâs still out there in the village.â Din feels the dread pool in his heart. âIâm gonna have to go kill it, arenât I.â
âWell, you donât have toâŚâ Luke trails off.
Dinâs already striding back into the throne room, before a thought occurs to him, and he turns around and goes back to Luke, taking one of his hands in both of his. âIf I manage to kill this thing for good this time,â he says, âyou still donât have to marry me. I donât care about tradition.â
Luke has gone completely still under his touch, just like he was when Din first saw him in the corner of Peliâs, his grip strong under Dinâs palm. His eyes are very wide, very blue, and even though Din knows he canât see through the visor of his helmet, he feels like Luke is reading his face with inexplicable familiarity. With the calmness of a man who knew he had all the time in the world and knew exactly what he was going to do with it all.
Din drops Lukeâs hand like heâs been burnt and steps away, his face going red with the realisation of his rash decision in the heat of emotion.
Luke says, âIâm coming with you.â
And Din forgets all about how completely inappropriate it was for him to touch Luke like that. âWhat? No.â Not Luke, with his soft body and curves and bony wrists, who had a family in the palace who clearly cared about him. Who Din still wanted to hold afterwards, and they couldnât do that if Luke was dead via krayt dragon.
âI can handle myself.â And there he is, Din can see the man last night who wiped the table clean with his freaky powers just because he could; because, Din realises now, he was trying to impress Din, not compete with him. The relief at seeing the glimmer of that Luke again, without the frills and false airs, almost swallows him.
âAlso,â Luke adds, as Din is still marvelling at the appearance of Lukeâs brash edges again, âif someone else went and killed it now, I would have to marry them. Iâm just making sure you make good on your word.â
Din feels a flare of anger in his chest, way too intense for having only known Luke two days, and resolutely puts it out of his mind, deciding to think about it later. But then Luke grabs his hand again, tugging him through the throne room and back to the speeder, and Din canât find it within him to pull away. Heâs only thinking about peeling his glove off so they can be skin to skin, and then peeling that disgustingly impractical gold ensemble off Lukeâs body. Heâs thinking about how Luke didnât pull away when heâd grabbed his hand before, and now, how heâd reached first, and the lucent gleam in his eyes when heâd looked at him, like suddenly everything had become clear to him.
And as the speeder roars to life, the warm shape of Luke in the passenger seat next to him, Din dares to hope, could it really be that easy?
+++++
The dragon, surprisingly, is easy enough to kill, what with Din having mostly incapacitated it the previous day when heâd ripped himself out of its stomach. Heâs honestly surprised that the dragon had survived long enough to drag itself back to its lair. Luke almost looks disappointed, and if Dinâs learnt anything as a bounty hunter, itâs that as soon as you complain about it being quiet is when things start going to shit.
Theyâre climbing back into the speeder when the first blaster shots are heard, some very angry knightsâ real knightsâ who apparently were banking on slaying a dragon and marrying a princess to get fat and rich off the royal coffers, pissed off that someone else had gotten there first.
Din groans, rolling out the crick in his shoulderâ after the dragon (twice!), knights seem as relevant as gnatsâ but he draws his spear all the same. After all, it didnât matter what killed you, a blaster shot is just as deadly as krayt dragon teeth.
And then Luke, out of fucking nowhere pulls out a green sword and dispatches them all without breaking sweat. Din hasnât even moved from his spot next to the speeder. A ball of heat shoots straight through his stomach, and he feels his mouth go dry.
âYou werenât kidding when you said you could handle yourself.â
Luke smiles serenely, sheathing his sword. Din feels his stillness again, this time, the kind that indicates imminent danger. Unfortunately, because Din has now accepted that he just functions on a lower brain capacity around Luke, he can feel certain parts of himself getting very interested in a dangerous version of Luke.
âLuke.â he manages. He knows he has to say this before anything else happens. âYou donât have to marry me.â
And Luke just looks at him, patient, light, none of the heavy sadness Din had seen in the courtyard, and Din knows, then and there, that Luke understands, that heâs been able to read in between the lines: everything Din hasnât allowed himself to want from fear of losing it. Luke knows what he wants to sayâ what heâs going to say. He just has to say it.
âBut would you like to come with me?â he gets out.
Lukeâs face breaks open into a smile, like rain after drought, and this time, Din doesnât stop himself from crossing the distance between them, pulling Luke flush against him by the waist. Luke knocks his forehead against Dinâs helmet, and Din closes his eyes, basking in the sheer sense of rightness.
âIâve always wanted to see the galaxy.â Luke says after a long minute, and Din laughs, feeling so light he could fly.
As Luke watches Din prepare for one of their most challenging fights yet, Luke knows he has to say something, in case this is his last chance to say it.
@dinlukenation dinluke week Day 5: Prince/Knight featuring AMAB Nonbinary Din!
The outfits/vibes are from the amazing fantasy au by no-star-no-war!Â
AO3 link
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The crowd roared from outside the small red tent and for a moment, Luke panicked.
âWait!â he called out, pulling Grogu closer to his chest.
Dinluke Week - Day 4:Â Luke Runs a Daycare, Din Runs an Auto Repair Shop Across the Street
Rating: T
Words: 6454
Summary:Â Din is a mechanic who works across the street from a daycare. He suddenly finds himself with a kid to take care of. These two facts do not interconnect to him in any way and it drives Luke crazy.
OR
5 times Luke tried to teach Din what daycare is for and 1 time Din gets it. Sort of.
Excerpt:
1.
There are two kinds of small towns. There are the nice ones where life is slow and everyone is in everyone elseâs business all the time. No one is surprised by much and life is simple and quaint, for better or worse.
Then there are other small towns nestled into the inhospitable crags of the world where some lunatic once decided it was a good idea to plant a flag and settle a town and everyone has been paying the price ever since. These small towns are built on people relying on each other, and everyone has a network of favors that they owe and are owed. The tightrope walk of life is dotted with sudden jostles when that tally changes for any of the handful of residents. The people who live in these towns know how to lean into the sharp turns of life to avoid toppling over.
So itâs not surprising to Luke when one of the moms stops by the daycare one hot morning with her son and another kid whoâs definitely not hers. Itâs not the first time someone has had a relative or friend dump their kid off and it then becomes Lukeâs problem for the day. Another part of small-town life was a lot less emphasis on paperwork.
âAnd whoâs this little stranger?â he asks, coming over to crouch down low so heâs down on the toddlerâs level. The kid is wearing brown corduroy overalls and some kind of knit hat that looks like someone in his life is an amateur crafter. Itâs hard to say if those ears are supposed to be elf ears or bat ears or⌠maybe goblin ears since theyâre green? Theyâre big and floppy and they hang off his head, almost touching his shoulders. Itâs more than a little adorable.
The kid stares at him with those typical giant toddler eyes and tilts his head. Luke smiles, amused, and offers a wave. The child waves back at him. Friendly enough, not withdrawn or trying to hide behind Mrs. Frahg.
âHe belongs to the mechanic. I donât really understand the situation, but he said he needed someone to watch him,â Mrs. Frahg says, sounding just as befuddled. Neither Mrs. Frahg nor the local mechanic are big talkers, Mrs. Frahg because of her thick Irish accent and Din because⌠heâs Din. So Luke can 100% believe that Din showed up with a toddler and asked Mrs. Frahg to look after him and now here they are. Being the only mechanic in a hot little desert town that AAA doesnât even put on their maps, everyone owes Din favors.
âWell, thatâs⌠new.â Because Din doesnât have a wife. Or girlfriend. Or any family. This is not Luke being nosy, itâs just a small-town thing. He definitely doesnât pay more attention to Dinâs comings and goings than anyone elseâs. Definitely.  âWhatâs his name?â
Mrs. Frahg shrugs. âHe didnât say.â
Luke is⌠disappointed but not surprised. That sounds like Din.
âHey there. Iâm Luke,â he says, offering a hand to the kid, which toddlers usually get a kick out of if theyâve seen their parents shake peopleâs hands before. The kid just looks at it, then at Luke.
âHe doesnât seem to say much,â Mrs. Frahg adds when the silence gets too long. âIâm not sure he talks.â
âWell, weâll make do.â Luke smiles at the kid once more before he stands up and finishes a few more pleasantries. Then Mrs. Frahg heads back out into the bright morning outside and leaves him with her son and Dinâs⌠little friend.
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Din learns hands-on the ins-n-outs of lightsaber duels from Master Luke
(and a Round 2:)
I have so many things I want to draw for Din going to Jedi school so @dinlukenationââs Dinluke Week was the push to get started. More student!Din to come đ¤
@dinlukenation Dinluke Day 3! T4T Sparring! Thatâs it, thatâs all I have to say!
AO3 link
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If asked, Din would say he doesnât keep score when he and Luke spar. Itâs all for fun, neither playing to win, just a way to pass the time as the kids take their nap time. That being said, the score is 3-1 in Lukeâs favor when Din pulls himself to a seated position.
âYou need to try to be less sword focused,â he says, brushing off grass caught in the creases of his armor.
Luke offers him a hand, which he takes, and pulls him up. âYouâre just saying that so you can win.â
âSoulmatesâ has become the equivalent of âlove at first sightâ across the galaxy. Lock eyes with someone, hold out a bare hand for a greeting, itâs as simple as that. .
But Din doesnât think about any of that as he stares at the black-robed Jedi in front of him.Â
Or âThe 5 Times Din and Luke Didnât Touch Skin-to-Skin and the 1 Time They Didâ
Day 1 of @dinlukenationâs Dinluke week! My very first soulmate AU ever!
A HUGE thanks to @notsosweet16 for betaing!
AO3 Link
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1.
âSoulmatesâ has become the equivalent of âlove at first sightâ across the galaxy. Lock eyes with someone, hold out a bare hand for a greeting, itâs as simple as that. Peopleâs hands are covered in tattoos where they first made contact with their soulmate, romantic or otherwise. Wearing gloves has become something of a statement, limiting your ability to easily find your soulmate.
But Din doesnât think about any of that as he stares at the black-robed Jedi in front of him. He doesnât think about soulmates, or his Creed, or anything of the sort. He just thinks about Grogu, how he wants him to see his face clearly before he has to go with his people.
And so, he takes off his helmet, finally able to look at Grogu without the filter of the T-visor.
If we think the kink week prompts are extremely problematic for a myriad of reasons are we allowed to participate with our own?
Sorry this is so late!
You can post whatever you'd like, the goal of the dinluke weeks are just to make more content for the ship. The prompts are more like suggestions, and we choose them based on what people submitted, and which ones were voted to be the most popular by the people participating.
Please keep that in mind for next year's dinluke weeks!
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
â Live Streamingâ Interactive Chatâ Private Showsâ HD Quality
Anya is LIVE right now
FREE
Free to watch ⢠No registration required ⢠HD streaming
Din learns hands-on the ins-n-outs of lightsaber duels from Master Luke
(and a Round 2:)
I have so many things I want to draw for Din going to Jedi school so @dinlukenationââs Dinluke Week was the push to get started. More student!Din to come đ¤
@dinlukenation Dinluke Day 3! T4T Sparring! Thatâs it, thatâs all I have to say!
AO3 link
-=-=-=-=-
If asked, Din would say he doesnât keep score when he and Luke spar. Itâs all for fun, neither playing to win, just a way to pass the time as the kids take their nap time. That being said, the score is 3-1 in Lukeâs favor when Din pulls himself to a seated position.
âYou need to try to be less sword focused,â he says, brushing off grass caught in the creases of his armor.
Luke offers him a hand, which he takes, and pulls him up. âYouâre just saying that so you can win.â
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
â Live Streamingâ Interactive Chatâ Private Showsâ HD Quality
Anya is LIVE right now
FREE
Free to watch ⢠No registration required ⢠HD streaming
Hey y'all! I didn't have the time (though I really wanted too!!) to write another set of soulmate fics (or just one fic) for @dinlukenation Dinluke week since I am working through the next chapter of my wip, but if y'all are soulmate AU starved even after all the wonderful fics that came out today, I wrote two soulmate AUs for Dinluke in January! You can find them here if you're interested!: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2118132
âSoulmatesâ has become the equivalent of âlove at first sightâ across the galaxy. Lock eyes with someone, hold out a bare hand for a greeting, itâs as simple as that. .
But Din doesnât think about any of that as he stares at the black-robed Jedi in front of him.Â
Or âThe 5 Times Din and Luke Didnât Touch Skin-to-Skin and the 1 Time They Didâ
Day 1 of @dinlukenationâs Dinluke week! My very first soulmate AU ever!
A HUGE thanks to @notsosweet16 for betaing!
AO3 Link
-=-=-=-
1.
âSoulmatesâ has become the equivalent of âlove at first sightâ across the galaxy. Lock eyes with someone, hold out a bare hand for a greeting, itâs as simple as that. Peopleâs hands are covered in tattoos where they first made contact with their soulmate, romantic or otherwise. Wearing gloves has become something of a statement, limiting your ability to easily find your soulmate.
But Din doesnât think about any of that as he stares at the black-robed Jedi in front of him. He doesnât think about soulmates, or his Creed, or anything of the sort. He just thinks about Grogu, how he wants him to see his face clearly before he has to go with his people.
And so, he takes off his helmet, finally able to look at Grogu without the filter of the T-visor.
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