Anything blog

You used your knowledge of the palace to duck out of sight before Din could turn and see you.

You just… 

You still felt too conflicted. You didn't trust yourself to speak calmly and rationally to him. 

You wandered around the palace for a while, avoiding the busy areas. You didn't have it in you to be social, or even to pretend that you were alright. 

Honestly, though… seeing him again, finally, after all this time… 

It would be easy to forgive him. You wanted to forgive him, to go back to how things were. 

You wanted to spend time with him again. Him and Grogu.

Shaking yourself, you made your way up to one of the balconies, leaning against the railing. The desert cooled fast with the suns down, a gentle breeze tugging at your clothes and sending a chill down your spine. 

Briefly, you debated borrowing a speeder bike and making your way back to Peli's. She wouldn't ask questions. 

Well. Okay. She would. She'd demand to know what you were doing there so late and didn't you know she needed her rest? But she'd let you stay. 

You smiled and shook your head. No. No need to drag her into this. 

You were fine. You could manage. 

Din would undoubtedly be on his way again soon. 

“Want me to shoot him for you?”

You laughed softly at the casual offer from Fennec. “Wouldn't that defeat the triumph of the day?” You asked, not turning to look at her. 

“I never said where I'd shoot him,” she pointed out as she settled next to you, her elbow bumping into yours on the rail. “I'd aim for the beskar.”

You smiled and shook your head. “Nah,” you decided. “Sounds like more trouble than it's worth.” 

Fennec huffed softly but didn't protest. “Then why are you hiding up here?” 

You sighed slowly, letting the rail take more of your weight as you sagged forward. “I can't face him right now,” you admitted. “I just… can't.” 

Fennec nodded slowly. “What are you going to do?” She kept her voice quiet, the question non-judgmental. 

“I don't know.” You huffed without humor. “Hide up here until he leaves? I doubt he'll be here long.” 

Fennec sighed, long and slow. “You know, if I thought it would do any good, I'd lock the two of you in a room to get yourselves figured out.” She didn't turn even as the door to the balcony creaked open. “Still an option, if needed.” She threw you a smirk that you were all too familiar with. A bit of mischief mixed with her belief that she was right. 

Not that she was often wrong, more's the pity. Sometimes you thought her ego could do with a bit of a pop. 

She pushed away from the railing as measured steps approached. You didn't have to look to see who it was. 

You'd memorized the cadence of those steps long ago. 

The door shut behind her, a faint click you could only just hear over the pounding of your heart. The all-too-familiar steps slowed as he approached, and then stopped next to you. 

Din surprised you, leaning forward to mirror your pose, arms on the railing. His elbow did not bump yours, but only just.

If you moved so much as an inch to that side, you'd touch him. 

You didn't know what you'd do if you did touch him, so you held very still. A spooked loth-cat. 

“Boba said you'd be out here,” Din offered quietly. 

“Just because he's my boss…” You trailed off as Din's shoulders tensed, visible only because you had so much practice reading him. 

“He… treats you well?” He asked slowly, a little halting. 

“Better than any other boss I've had.” You shrugged a little, relaxing in opposition to his tension. “Working for him is… different. Not bad. Just different.” 

“Are you happy here?”

The soft question made you exhale hard and push away from the wall, a sudden release of tension and emotion. “I suppose. As much as I can be, given… everything.” You waved one hand between the two of you and the sky, as if that would somehow encapsulate the everything you'd spoken of. 

Din turned slowly to watch you, as unknowable as ever behind that gleaming helmet. He let the silence sit between you, heavy and full of unspoken things. 

“I couldn't find you earlier,” he said finally, low and a little raspy. “Not for longer than a few seconds.”

“I feel like I should be proud of that,” you mused, looking down at the floor between you, the space seeming much larger than it actually was. “I had things to do.” 

“I wouldn't blame you if you didn't want to talk to me.” The words came softly, like a confession. 

“It's not that,” you said, lifting one hand to rub your forehead. “It's…” You trailed off, words failing you. It was how he had left you. It was how you still hurt, deep down. It was how much you wanted things to go back to how they had been. 

Din lowered his head at that. “I don't expect forgiveness,” he started, and you cut him off there. 

“That's just it, Din. I want to forgive you. I want to brush it all aside and go back to traveling with you like nothing happened.” You shook your head a little. “That time I spent on the Crest, with you and Grogu, was terrifying and awful and thrilling and wonderful, and some of my fondest memories are on that ship. Of course I want to go back to that.”

Din held very still, visor focused directly on you. Like if he looked away, you might vanish again. “That is more than I deserve.”

“Probably,” you agreed, cool but not harsh. “But that's my call. My decision. Nobody gets to make those choices for me. Not anymore.”

Din bowed his head, conceding to you. “I'm sorry,” he murmured. “For making that choice for you, before.” 

You breathed out slowly. “I appreciate that,” you said softly, looking at him. Ber had never apologized, for anything. The fact that Din had meant a lot to you. 

Din took a single step closer to you. “You don't have to worry about Ber,” he said, low and sincere. “Or the bounty.” 

Honestly, it had been so long that you'd kind of forgotten about the bounty on you. So many other things had happened, things requiring your attention. “Your contact got the bounty taken care of?” You asked, mildly curious. 

“Not exactly.” Din shrugged, still focused on you. “I killed him.” 

You froze, staring at him. Honestly, for a moment, you weren't sure you'd heard him properly, sure you'd hallucinate the words. “What?” You breathed.

“Ber.” Din shifted his weight, the only outward sign of discomfort. “I killed him.” 

You blinked once. And ended up flat on your butt on the floor, still staring up at him. A cracked laugh escaped you as something long scabbed but never healed in your chest broke open anew. Din crouched in front of you, concern in the tip of his head, the way gloved fingers reached for you.

But he hesitated. Unsure of his welcome. His right. 

You bridged the gap, one hand clasping tightly around his. The single point of contact helped you calm, slowly and fitfully, the occasional cracked giggle or almost sob still escaping. 

As embarrassing as it should have been, falling apart in front of him like this, it simply… wasn't. 

After all, it was just Din. He had already seen you in bad shape. 

“Kriff,” you muttered, hoarse now, your free hand wiping at your cheeks. Which was when you noticed you were trembling, a fine, consistent tremor through your limbs. “You didn't have to go to any trouble, you know.” 

“Yes I did.” Din squeezed your hand gently, pulling your gaze to him. Not that you'd looked much of anywhere else. “You needed it.” 

You swallowed at the ease at which he said that. He had no business saying things like that so… nonchalantly. 

“Guess you're right. I don't have to worry about him anymore.” One more swipe of your hand over your cheeks and you nodded, steadier already. “Any other surprises you want to throw at me while I'm sitting?” 

You'd meant it as a joke, but by Din's sudden, absolutely stillness, you'd hit on something. 

“Din?” You pressed gently when he didn't speak for a few long moments. 

Din made a noise, and it took you a moment to realize he was clearing his throat. “I, uh. Have something to give you.”

You blinked, honestly caught by surprise. “You… do?” 

Din nodded, sitting back a little to rummage through one of his pouches. He didn't release you with his other hand, instead working awkwardly with his off-hand. Then he held something out to you. 

You reached out slowly, taking it from him. Cool metal rested against your palm as you brought it closer to examine it. 

A necklace sat in your palm, the metal shaped strangely but familiar. You rubbed your thumb over the tusks of the thing. 

“It's a mythosaur,” Din told you unprompted. “They're… sacred, soft of, to Mandalorians.”

“Why give this to me?” You didn't look up from the necklace, enjoying the cool, smooth metal under your touch. 

“Because…” Din hesitated there, seemingly struggling for words. You looked up from the necklace to him, curious and unwilling to let this drop. Not this time. “You are… important. To me. You have earned that.” His fingers closed gently around yours, his gloves a little rough but warm. 

You nodded slowly, glancing down at your joined hands. Both pairs. “I appreciate it,” you murmured, tightening your grip on the necklace. You had a feeling there was something more to it, but that was enough of an answer for now. 

“So, what now?” You asked after several long moments of quiet. 

“I don't know.” Din spoke quietly, admitting it with a touch of reluctance. “I… still don't have the Crest. A Crest.” 

“I know,” you admitted just as quietly. “Peli told me she found you a ship, but it's not exactly anything with room for passengers.” 

Din nodded after a moment. “There are some things I have to do,” he said. “This isn't the only thing I need to make right.” He squeezed your hands gently, ever aware of his strength. 

You blew out a slow breath into the space between you. “Well, not like I'm going anywhere,” you joked. 

Din sighed softly, just audible. “I don't want this to be all there is,” he murmured. “Can I… come talk to you again? After I get done with what I need to do?” 

You considered the question rather than saying yes immediately. Of course you wanted to say yes immediately, but you forced yourself to actually think about it. 

You'd already lived without him for a while. You could do it again, for as long as you needed to. Kriff, even if he never came back, you still had more closure now than you had before. 

Plus, you wanted to see Grogu again. And maybe, just maybe, you could even be of help. 

So you nodded. “Yeah,” you agreed. “That would be fine.” 

The line of his shoulders relaxed, just enough for you to notice. Had he been worried about your answer? “Okay. Good.” 

You smiled a little and accepted that. “When are you leaving?” 

“In the morning,” Din said, leaning back from the emotional talks. “Grogu is asleep, and Boba is letting us stay the night.” 

You nodded. “Okay,” you murmured. “I should get some sleep. So should you - it was a long day.”

Din huffed a sound that could have been amused. “Yeah, it has.” He stood with a soft groan, probably aching after the day he'd had and being thrown around. But he still paused once he was on his feet, holding both hands down to you. 

You took his hands and accepted his help up to your feet. A few aches of your own made themselves known, and you grimaced. 

“You'll feel better in the morning,” Din said, still holding your hands. 

“Probably.” Your smile felt lopsided, small. But you made the effort, at least. 

Din stood there for a long moment, just looking at you. Then he nodded once. “Get some rest,” he encouraged, finally releasing you. “I won't leave before I see you.”

You nodded, shoulders relaxing. You hadn't even realized you'd been worried about that until he'd reassured you. 

Din reached past you to open the door, and you slipped back inside with a nod to him. But Din didn't leave you, not until you reached your room. 

You stopped at the door, looking at him, letting the silence stretch as you studied him. His armor looked the same now as it did when he'd walked away from you. You could see the weariness in the rounding of his shoulders, the way his hands rested empty by his sides. 

“Get some sleep,” you told him, opening the door to your room, just enough for you to slip inside. You weren't ready to give him a peek in. Not yet. “I'll see you in the morning, Din.” 

“Sleep well.” Din dipped his head to you before he turned and left.

“For your neck’s sake.” you shovelled the purchase into his arm, and continued walking around the market, warning him with your side eye, signalling no room for arguments. He never admits to you, but it actually improves his persistent shoulder problem he’s been having for cycles. You always know how to take care of him, and the baby. And the ship. He doesn’t voice his problem or concern out half of the time, but somehow, you always know, and silently offers him remedy and solutions to the problem, at the right time. 

Sound of metal against metal woke him up before he was ready to doze off again. He sighed, might as well get up. Now he hears the whistling sound of caf distiller and the smell of caf mixed with that sweet pastry from before. Grabbing his helmet from the tiny shelf above his head, making sure it's latched on properly before he lifts the curtain separating the bunk space to the cargo hold. The scene in front of him brings him back memories. Childhood memories from Aq Ventina.

There you are, sitting on the crate, with the little green pea in your lap, holding his hand while teaching him how to mix some sort of batter inside the small metal bowl. This is all so domestic. The feel of home. The three of you. Little clan of three. He remembers his mother, cooking breakfast, while him pouring some blue milk into glasses, and his father, yawning away and giving his mother a kiss on the cheek before proceeding ruffling his hair. “Morning Mando.” Your greeting pulls him back from his reverie, shaking his head, he sees you turning your head towards him, offering him a soft smile.  Giving the baby a quick kiss on his head, standing up, and gently putting both of him and the bowl down onto the crate.

“ You woke up just in time. The bread is just coming out from the oven.” you turned around, opening the nanowave cooker to take out some delicious smelling bread. “ I tried to make some five blossom bread, but I don’t have the right ingredients.. So… I am sorry if this is not quite authentic.’ Apologise as you divide the bread onto a plate,along with some dried cheese and meat jerky, before passing a flask of caf to Din, so he can break his fast in the cockpit.

Nodding his head, thanking you, he turns and climbs up to the cockpit. Instead of sealing the cockpit door, he left it open for once. He wants to enjoy this feeling of home, even though it’s just through the sound.

Assuming you are back to mixing the batter through the clanking sound starting again, the child cooing and babbling away, you answer him as if you understand what he is trying to express, instructing him the secret art of making a good cookie.

He can’t deny the underlying feeling he has for you. You are too good to the baby. Too good to him. Too good FOR him . He doesn’t deserve you. 

Thinking back to the spare vitroblade he had in his weapon cabinet. He was given a pair of it when he swore the creed. 

“ One for you to keep. One for your future riduur.” The Armorer had said to him. Maybe next time when they go past the planet again, he will ask the Armorer to engrave the mudhorn signet onto the blade, before giving it to you. If he is brave enough. If you can accept him.

But for the moment. He is content with listening to your angelic voice, softly singing a Naboo folk song, with baby cooing in the background.  Content with the soft smile you give him. Content with the attention you are given him. If this will last forever.