The return of the @dankfarrikdrabbles prompts! This one is a bit less Gen than usual (though perfectly SFW), and I decided to resuscitate some characters from The Book of Boba Fett just because. Please enjoy Palace/Smug!
“So how long will you be staying?”
Truth was, Din was already regretting agreeing to stay at the palace at all. But Fett had promised him a place to rest and to eat, and now that he had Grogu to think about again, it had sounded like a good idea to stick around for a bit. His back was definitely thankful for the reprieve, which was why he knew that what the two Twi’leks were hinting at right now was definitely not a good idea. On top of all the other very valid reasons he’d already started listing in his head ever since they showed up at his table.
“Not long,” he replied, but that didn’t seem to dissuade them in the slightest as they were still seated in front of him.
The palace main room had been turned into some sort of event space to celebrate the victory over the Pyke syndicate. Many people had gathered from all over Tatooine to partake in the revelry. There was food, and drinks, and music, and according to Fennec who was currently enjoying several flagons of spotchcka nearby, was very reminiscent of the two Twi’leks last place of work. They had miraculously survived the bombing of the cantina and with their boss Garsa Fwip currently enjoying a necessary dip in Fett’s decidedly very popular bacta tank, Din had expected them to join in the festivities instead of entertaining him. Sadly, he was mistaken.
This was nothing new. And he guessed he should take it as some kind of compliment. But he just wanted to be left alone at the moment.
He’d tried the silent treatment. Then the mono-syllabic answers when they pressured him to tell the story of how he had bravely defeated the Pykes.
“It was a group effort, really,” he attempted when that didn’t work either.
“So humble!” exulted the man.
“You’re a hero!” added the woman.
That strategy wasn’t proving any more effective. And yes, they were certainly both very attractive and very charming and he hadn’t always said no to that kind of offer. But if he was led to a bed right now he’d only want one thing. To sleep. For about 3 days.
Also, he now tended to avoid Twi’leks, following very bad drunken decisions made many years ago and involving a particular one he hoped was still biding her time in prison.
Easiest solution would be to leave the table, but he liked his spot. The music and the sound of people celebrating was nice, he had a drink of something much too sweet and inebriating in front of him with a pink bendy straw that tasted wonderful, the child was having a well-deserved nap on the seat next to him and there was a plate of pickled frog legs waiting for him when he woke up on the table. It was perfect.
“I’m really not, trust me,” he sighed.
“You’ve definitely earned the right to relax now,” the woman murmured, extending a hand towards him.
Din wasn’t getting desperate exactly, but he did want to remain polite – he was a guest here after all.
“Ha bah!” cooed the child, who had just woken up and hoisted himself up to see what was going on – his eyes immediately and predictably focused on the food.
“Oh, what an interesting – ”
“Is that your…pet?” the Twi’leks wondered, taken aback by Grogu’s sudden appearance.
“That’s my son,” he immediately informed them.
And just like that, the adoring, suggestive looks grew confused and suspicious. Din could see their eyes going from the kid’s comically large ears to his helmet and try to do the math. He could tell that they were also starting to wonder if he was using some sort of mechanical enhancements under his armor given Grogu’s diminutive stature. And who knew what else.
“You know, I think we should go check how Madam Fwip is doing,” said the woman, standing up.
“Yes, we really should,” agreed the man, giving Din a phony apologetic look as they left the table.
“Thanks kid, I was running out of ideas,” he chuckled, as the boy promptly started attacking the frog legs with gusto.
Din sighed in contentment and grabbed his drink again. He wouldn’t say no to a second one. Or five.