𝐜𝐲𝐚𝐫𝐞'𝐬𝐞 - 𝘥𝘪𝘯 𝘥𝘫𝘢𝘳𝘪𝘯

The Challenge

the challenge • fem!reader
After winning a drinking challenge, Din returns to the Crest much later than expected in a state of mind much different than usual, leaving you to deal with him and whatever words spill from his mouth.

—§—

In all your time spent as a part of Din's crew and clan—and most recently as his riduur—he's never been later than expected from a hunt.

But tonight, he still hasn't shown, hours after he promised he would.

You knew you should've accompanied him on this one. It'd been burning in your mind ever since he left. Din had said this hunt was going to be particularly difficult, but he'd insisted that he could handle it, and that it was too dangerous to leave the baby alone on this planet. You believed him then, and you still do, but a large part of you—the one who's fiercely loyal to your husband—wishes you had gone with Din to protect him, because Maker knows what's happened to him.

The baby's been asleep for an hour now and you've just been pacing the hull, arms crossed while one hand grips the comlink Din had given you as you wait for something, anything. You've been tempted to use it more times than you can keep track of, but Din had urged you not to unless there was an emergency on your end. If there was one on his, he said he'd be the one to reach out. He didn't want them tracking the comlink back to you and the baby. You know Din would put up with anything to keep that from happening. And that thought scares you.

But then, you hear the crunching of terrain under familiar boots, and the hatch begins to open on its own—a function only made possible from Din's vambrace. Your chest floods with temporary relief upon seeing Din, though your heart immediately drops when you see the way he's practically stumbling towards you. Panic floods through your veins as you run to meet him, instantly fearing the worst as you wrap one of his arms around your shoulders and help him get inside the Crest.

"Din, what happened?" you question, your voice failing to hide your worry as you close the hatch and look at his drooping helmet. "Did it go bad? Did they hurt you? Why didn't you use the com—?"

"Cyare," Din's modulated voice finally says—or, rather, slurs. Immediately, your brow wrinkles as you stare at him, wondering why the hell he sounds like that. "Ner kar'ta." My heart. He pulls his arm off your shoulders and instead tries to find your waist with his gloved hands, his body nearly falling against yours as his helmet meets your forehead. "M'missed you, cyar'ika."

You try not to swoon at the sound of his rasp being so tender and sweet, instead focusing on figuring out what really happened. "We missed you too, Din," you assure him, voice gentle as you hear him hum with what sounds like delight, "a lot. You were late. I was... I was really worried, riduur."

"I like it when you call me that," Din responds, a clumsy gloved hand making its way to your cheek as he brushes his thumb over it. Again, you have to fight back the swelling of your heart as he acts so sweet and affectionate with you. "M'sorry... got challenged." You raise an eyebrow before Din continues. "To drink." Suddenly, it all makes sense, and your lips part in an o of realization as Din chuckles at you. "I won, cyar'ika. I did it for us."

You can't help laughing a bit as you take the hand Din has on your cheek and hold it in yours. "Good job, my love," you remark—not questioning the logistics of how he drank with his helmet still on. "I'm glad it was nothing serious."

"It was serious." Din sounds playfully angry, his arms crossing over his chest as he tilts his helmet at you. "And I won, cyare. I won."

"Yes, and we're proud of you." You rest a soft hand on his pauldron. "But now, we've got to get you cleaned up and off to bed. I'm sure you're exhausted from all your victories today, hm, my brave Mandalorian?"