yeah? good.

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RULES

YOU REALLY THINK I COULD WATCH EVEN HALF A MA.NDO EP WITHOUT A S/O TO LUKE’S HUBAND.

din, suddenly needing the cooling system in his helm to hurry the fuck up: “husband”?

He watches him struggle with raised brows, a mischievous grin finding its way onto his face. When he’s finished speaking, he replies almost immediately, as if he’d been waiting for him to ask.  “ No . “

He isn’t actually angry with him, in fact, there’s not much besides teasing smugness in his tone.

“ I’ll complete my task , as you put it , and then I’m going to meditate in my room . “ He declares, taking the holocron in hand again. “ You’re free to look after Grogu , though , he’s finished his lessons for today . “ It’s a little cruel, but really, it’s far too easy to tease him.

Din knows the smile on Luke’s face must mean something. He knows it. He’s not so inept to think that he’s smiling just for the sake of it, that he’s either fond or amused or something along those lines.

And yet. His words are clear. And if he couldn’t see Luke’s face and heard only the things he were saying, then he’d take those words for what they are.

So, defeated, Din says, “Okay.”

Luke’s confusion changes into something more like calm amusement. It’s nice of him to care, his heart warms with the realisation that he doesn’t need the Force to tell that it’s genuine, too. But the last thing he wants is to be babied. And his words sound a little too much like how he speaks to the little guy for his liking. “ I’m not a child , Din . “ His tone is mostly that same amusement, but there’s a tinge of irritation there, too.

“ If you want to have lunch with me , you can just ask . “

“That’s not what I--”

He drops it mid-way. Knowing his own poor skill with words, Din decides he’s probably better off not explaining himself. I don’t think you’re a child sounds, ironically, incredibly immature of him to say.

He sighs instead, helm dipping. “I’m sorry.”

Leaning awkwardly against the doorway, Din’s hands fold in front of him.

“Would you like to have lunch with me.”

Both Din’s hands press to the front of his helm, fingers covering his visor.

“I... can’t memorise any more of this.” And it’s frustrating to him, too, to admit such defeat, but the emblems and crests and names and places that Bo had laid out for him make him want to bash his head into the nearest wall.

He’s gotten half of the list of the galaxy’s most important factions and organisations. He imagines that only a night’s worth of study means that being able to name half is a big deal. Then again, considering he has years and years of history and politics to learn compared to Bo’s own repertoire, maybe everything he’s accomplished so far is small potatoes. He doesn’t know. His head hurts too much for him to know.

“ What ? “ Luke closes the holocron he’d been looking at to turn towards him instead. he’d sensed Din enter the room, had expected a hello or for him to ask about Grogu, he hadn’t been prepared for that. “ Why do you ask ? “ He retorts, shifting awkwardly under his attention.

“Because you’re a hard worker.”

In Din’s mind, that means it’s imperative he ask. His own responsibility isn’t a common trait; that’s a lesson he learned a long time ago back on Concordia, taking care of his brothers and sisters in the Fighting Corps.

That being said, he imagines an honest answer from Luke will only make him feel mildly concerned, much as he respects the man’s work ethic.

“It’s fine.”

It isn’t, and Din had slammed his fist into the wall with a shout loud enough for Elidi to come running in concern, and he knows this. The lie slips from his teeth before he can stop it, though-- she shouldn’t have to worry about him or his stupid, sore hand.

Barely fifteen minutes in and the Mandalorian’s already exhausted. Still, considering his general unwillingness to deal with the politics of the New Republic, he likes to think he’s justified.

It’s cowardly of him to seek asylum a good distance away from the base, but he’s talked to too many people today and it’s taken it’s bloody toll. There’s nothing he can do that Bo-Katan (who’s stayed behind to talk to Leia Organa) can’t. There’s no reason for him to stay any longer than he has to.

As he follows what looks to be a path worn by constant foot travel, the Mandalorian doesn’t expect much. The clearing he ends up at is gorgeous, though-- and, perhaps more pressingly, already occupied. In the grass and the flowers someone’s already chosen to sit, and immediately he stiffens with the discomfort of an intruder.

Just as he turns to flee, however, they’ve already turned and spotted him. Instinct has both his hands raising by his head in surrender.

“I’m not here to hurt you.”