Another Way: A Mandalorian Story

Buurenaar

Buurenaar - [boo-REY-nahr] - storm
Summary: Din and you spend quality time together before departing Mos Eisley.

You dress in practiced motions, catching glimpses of yourself in the mirror hanging on the wall in front of you, mentally noting the ways your body has changed in recent weeks. Deep down, you know the changes are inevitable, even good, signs that you are healthy...that the baby is healthy. That's what matters most, right? Still, you can't help feeling a little disappointed in what you see.

With a soft sigh, you push the thoughts out of your head, then turn away from the mirror in search of your cloak, which you had carelessly discarded earlier in the day. Your eyes meet Din's, half-lidded and locked on you, his lips slightly parted. He's standing across the small hotel room, partially clad in his armor.

You're unsure how long he's been standing there like that, though you suspect he was watching you while you dressed. A nervous giggle escaping your lips, your gaze drops to the floor. Your face burns with bashfulness, as if forgetting that he has seen, smelled, touched, tasted, and heard practically every inch of you.

"Aren't you supposed to be getting dressed?" you question, moving to where your cloak lays on the floor, still avoiding looking at him.

"I got distracted," Din responds, confirming your suspicion. "Can you blame me?"

You smile sheepishly, uttering as you bend to pick up your garment, "Oh, hush. If you're trying to get back into my pants, it's not happening right now."

Din laughs. "My gorgeous wife in front of me and you think I'm only trying to get in your pants?"

Quickly, you pretend to look around the room, feigning confusion. "Where's this gorgeous wife of yours?"

He chuckles softly. "Standing right where you are."

Your face continues to burn, but you don't respond, averting him once more.

"Come here." His voice is soft but adamant.

You look up at him, seeing a hand outstretched for you to take. You step toward him and grab it, discarding your cloak on the bed before grabbing his other hand.

Love and admiration glow in his eyes. "I meant what I said earlier."

"Which part?" you question, the corners of your lips drawing up into a sly smile, eliciting a chuckle from your husband before he responds.

"All of it," he assures you. "But especially the part where I said you're just as beautiful as the day I met you."

Your eyes divert his, but he immediately lets one hand go and raises his to cup your cheek, gently compelling you to look back up at him.

"Ori'haat, mesh'la," he says, and you smile, knowing he reserves Mando'a for when he really means something. "You might not see it, but I do. And I will remind you every day just how beautiful and amazing and strong you are until you finally realize it yourself."

Tears flood your eyes, but you smile, nodding against his hand to show that you understand and believe him. "I love you."

"I love you, too." He lets go of you. "Are you sure you want to go out? I believe I made you a promise." He reluctantly sits in a chair and reaches for his boots and leg armor.

Turning to grab your cloak from the bed, his promise echoes in your mind.

I swear to you that the second I land on Tatooine, I will take you to bed, and we won't leave for a full day.

He stayed true to his word so far, having taken you to bed... and the shower... and back to bed again... But now that you've been alone, engaging in anything but light activity for several hours, your stomach is growling.