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Din Djarin was a dumbass.
This Cara knew well. Only dumbasses turned in bounties then stole them back from the farkin EMPIRE. Only dumbasses took on AT-STs. (Ok, so she did, too- but to be clear, it wasn’t her idea) Only dumbasses got themselves web bombed and then had the audacity to act like their lives weren’t important enough for someone to protect. (She could still hear his voice saying “Leave me” in her nightmares.) Only dumbasses took off after Imperial TIE fighters using jetpacks.
And that was all in the span of a few months. After their separation and subsequent reunion, Cara found out that Din just couldn’t stop being a dumbass.
For example: he decided to trust Quarins and almost got himself and Grogu killed, took the Razor Crest to its limits in an air battle while she could only watch helplessly from the ground, and broke a wanted felon out of prison. (In all fairness, it was for a good reason, but it was risky-the man had tried to kill him before. Though, come to think of it, so had she.) And, oh yeah, only dumbasses just let their foundlings go with a total stranger who waved around a light sword (Yeah, he was the “hero of the rebellion blah blah blah”- but he was still a stranger to Din and somewhat of a stranger to her) without much of a fuss.
And Cara was absolutely irrevocably in love with him.
Cara had been convinced a long time ago that she was morosexual- meaning she was only attracted to dumbasses, exclusively.
Din was no exception.
She had been attracted to him pretty much from the moment he asked her if she wanted some soup on Sorgan (after she had thoroughly beat his ass), but their partnership had bloomed into a flirtatious friendship, which, after Grogu left with Luke, had bloomed into something more. Din had spent the months following Grogu’s departure at Cara’s place on Nevarro grieving Grogu’s absence. She had grieved right along with him.
It really was a recipe for disaster. They were two emotionally vulnerable (and emotionally challenged), attractive, sex-deprived adults with palpable chemistry living in the same house. The tension that had been building since Sorgan was nearing its breaking point.
Then one night, after a couple of drinks and a game of strip sabacc in the living room, that tension broke. And man, when it broke…it was absolutely everything Cara had imagined it would be (and much more- who knew his tongue could be useful for more than just witty banter?).
And then it just never really ended. Over time their friendship and compatibility combined with the bomb-ass sex turned into a very real and very serious relationship. Eventually Din left her house to sort some things out with Bo Katan, visit his son and do a little bounty hunting on the side. (And if she went with him from time to time, the New Republic didn’t need to know.) But no matter how long he was gone, he always kept in contact and he always came home.
Home. She never thought she would consider Nevarro home, but she had grown to love this volcanic planet and its inhabitants, who regarded her with great respect and admiration that she felt unworthy of at times. Whenever she expressed this sentiment to Din, he would remind her through word and deed just how worthy of admiration he found her. (This often involved lots of sweet-talking and sex.)
Even Din thought of it as home; she knew he did even if he didn’t tell her so explicitly. She knew because he always returned to Nevarro-to her- after every one of his trips.
So it came as a surprise to absolutely no one who knew the couple when they announced their engagement a year after Grogu started his training.
If Cara remembered correctly, Greef’s words were a muttered, “Finally,” as he looked heavenward.
They were married in a very simple but elegant ceremony (by Greef, of course) just a few months later, and the two started to settle down into Nevarro and become accustomed to life there. Two years ago she never would have predicted that she would leave her vagabond lifestyle to settle down and plant roots in the Outer Rim. It was amazing to her how easily she had settled in here and established a routine.
But routines change, and hers and Din’s were about to change in a very big way.
They had only been married about a year when Cara missed her period one month and subsequently started puking her guts out during various times of the day. Concerned, she went to the doctor, who confirmed what she had suspected:
Cara Dune was pregnant.
She shouldn’t have been surprised; she had had her implant removed pretty soon after they had gotten married and they hadn’t exactly been very careful. All the contrary, actually. However, the minute she learned the news, she felt all the emotions- elation, uncertainty, and uneasy hope- all at once. Her biggest concern, though, was how to tell Din.
She recalled one of their neighbors announcing her pregnancy by putting a bun in her oven at a neighborhood get-together and having her husband pull the bun out. It didn’t take more than a few seconds before her husband reacted with joy and excitement as he scooped her up and spun her around, kissing her. Din hadn’t been there for that particular party as he was off-planet taking care of Mandalorian stuff. He wouldn’t expect it.
Perfect.
A few days after she found out, she decided to tell him. She purposely picked this day because she knew Din would out of the house to meet with Greef and chat about his most recent bounty-hunting mission. While he was out, she went to the market and bought some fresh bread- some hot buns, if you will. When she got home, she popped one of the buns in the oven, and then waited anxiously for him to get home.
A few agonizing hours later of nail biting and pacing and barfing (morning sickness combined with nerves was no joke), Cara heard Din’s footsteps climbing the stairs to the front door. She quickly plopped herself on the couch, holo-novel in hand, pretending to read it as Din open the door. She heard him sigh heavily as he kicked the door closed behind him before removing his helmet and placing it in the (specially built) armor closet.
It had taken Din a few months after Grogu left, but now, Din lived primarily without his helmet, only donning it when out on business or on the street.
“That bad, huh?” Cara didn’t even look up from her novel.
“Not bad, just…tiring. Greef asks a lot of questions,” he commented, and she looked up just in time to see his lip quirking up into an awkward half-smile.
“That he does,” Cara concurred with her own wry grin. He is too precious for his own good. I hope he is happy when I tell him my news. Standing on shaking feet, she walked over and began tugging on his chest piece before giving him a long kiss.
“I missed you, c’yarika,” he grabbed her face and kissed her again, moving so he pinned her between his body and the door. Normally she wouldn’t have minded this particular turn of events, but she knew that if they had sex right now that she absolutely would be too distracted by him and would likely chicken out. She lightly shoved him away, even as her body protested.
“Not right now, Din,” she shook her head, lightly pushing his chest away.
“Why not?” he was almost pouting as he held her waist firmly, hands moving to skim over the curve of her backside.
“Because you stink,” she lied- sort of. They had sweaty post-workout or post-bounty catching sex before, but not only did she need to stay focused on “Operation: Tell Din He’s Going to Be a Dad (Again)”, but she also was starting to feel nauseated by the smell of sweat and metal that normally turned her on. An unfortunate side-effect of pregnancy.
“Fine, I’ll take a shower,” he rolled his eyes, “Help me with my armor?”
She wordlessly began helping him with his armor as she normally did before a wave of nausea caught her off-guard and she had to pause and lean on her husband for support. Din noticed her falter and instinctively reached out his arms to catch her elbows.
“You ok?” he asked, his voice heavy with worry as he held her. She didn’t respond except to shut her eyes and hold her breath in an effort to make the sensation go away.
Cara swallowed the bile that rose in her throat, “Yeah, just feel a little sick again today, that’s all.”
“You’ve been sick a lot lately,” he observed, and Cara opened her eyes in time to see that his brows were furrowed and his eyes held open concern for her.
Just wait till I tell you why, she thought.
“I’m fine,” Cara assured him (I mean, it was sort of true), “Really. Just felt sick for a moment. I’m sure it’ll go away.” If the doctor is right, not for another month or so, Cara groaned inwardly. She couldn’t wait for the day.
“If you say so,” Din’s wary expression let her know immediately that he didn’t believe her. If there was one advantage to having a man who had spent the majority of his life under a helmet, it was that he didn’t know how to hide his emotions. Even before the helmet was off, Cara could read him like a holo-book. Now, it took absolutely zero effort to know what he was thinking and feeling.
She was hoping this would turn out to be a good thing when she told him about the baby.
Cara and Din finished removing his armor before he went into the fresher to take a shower. As soon as he walked away she ran to the sink, puking once more. She pat her still-flat stomach. “You’d better look like me to be putting me through this,” she grumbled to the tiny baby who was currently the culprit of her sickness. In all honesty, she didn’t really care who the baby looked more like, as long as the baby was healthy. And has his eyes, she mentally added.
She grabbed a cup and filled it with some water before swishing it around in her mouth and spitting it out. She gave a sidelong glance to the stove and took a deep breath before making her way back to the couch, where she returned to (pretending to read) her holo-novel. About 10 minutes passed before she saw her husband of one year come out of the shower in baggy black pants and a black t-shirt. He was rubbing his wavy, stubbornly messy brown hair dry with a towel as he made his way into the kitchen. He looked damn good, and it made Cara want to jump him where he stood. Not now, Cara, she scolded herself, focus on the mission. Cara took a deep breath and called over to her husband.
“Babe, can you check the oven for me? I put something in there earlier and forgot to get it out.”
He sniffed the air, “I don’t smell anything. When did you put it in there?”
“A few hours ago,” Cara stood up, slowly (and shakily) putting her holo-novel down as she made her way (baby step by baby step) to the kitchen.
“Oh. Ok,” Din nodded, but he gave her an odd look as he did so, and Cara immediately knew he suspected something. His eyes narrowed suspiciously, even as he put on oven mitts. Cara bit her lip to stifle a laugh at the sight.
“Something funny?” Din questioned. Cara shook her head vigorously, gesturing to the oven as if to remind him of the task at hand. He didn’t break eye contact with her even as he reached for the oven and Cara tried to school her features into one of casual nonchalance as she reached the kitchen.
He finally broke eye contact to open the oven, and then, upon discovering what was inside, gave it a curious look.
“Cara, what is a piece of bread doing in the oven? It’s not even hot,” he remarked before removing his gloves, picking up the bun, taking it out and examining it for stars only knew what.
“It’s a bun,” Cara corrected.
“Fine, whatever, what is the bun doing in the oven? How long has it been in there?” He asked again, clearly not getting it.
Cara decided to have a little fun.
“Oh, eight weeks, give or take,” Cara shrugged, trying desperately not to laugh.
“Ok, what’s going on?” Din put the bread on the table, “That hasn’t been in there for eight weeks. We just used the oven a few days ago. I would’ve remembered seeing that.”
“Oh…it was in there. In fact, you put it there,” Cara stated so matter-of-factly that she couldn’t help the snort that came out of her nose after she said it.
“No, I didn’t,” he protested.
“Pretty sure you did,” She commented in between fits of full-on belly laughter.
“Cara,” Din admonished. Ok ok fine, I’ll just tell him.
“Din, there is a bun in the oven,” she told him, emphasizing the two key words in hopes he would get it.
“Uh…no there’s not. I literally just took it out,” his face was still full of very real confusion as he once again picked up and examined the bun in question. Cara bit her lip again to refrain from making jokes about how he should’ve “taken it out” sooner if he didn’t want that particular “bun” in the oven. It would probably just confuse him further, so she had mercy on the poor, clueless man.
“Din,” she repeated (oh so patiently), “There is a bun in my oven,” she tried changing the emphasis of the words, even gesturing to her stomach.
“Carasynthia Dune-Djarin if you don’t me what the hell is going on…” Din was starting to get really annoyed by now, as was Cara.
“Din! How do you not get this? THERE. IS. A. BUN. IN. THE. OVEN!” Cara exclaimed, gesturing even more wildly to her stomach.
“Oh…you mean you ate a bun earlier?” Poor baby looked so confident, but now Cara was getting annoyed.
“Din karking Djarin I swear you are such a dumbass,” Cara groaned, smacking her head with her hand before shaking it in irritation.
“What? What did I do?” He held his hands up in a gesture of surrender, the bun (for some reason) still in his hand. “You said you had a bun in the oven so I thought you meant you ate it. What are you even talking about?” Din was still examining the bun.
“Din will you just put the damn bun down for a minute? I’m pregnant!” Cara shouted in frustration.
Din froze instantly before slowly putting the bun down on the table. He turned his head stiffly (as if wearing a helmet; another habit he had not let go of) to look at her and the mixture of shocked and almost hopeful expressions on his face caught her off-guard, “Really?” he spoke so quietly that Cara almost had to strain to hear him. She nodded. “How did this happen?” he asked, almost in disbelief, his face betraying his bewilderment.
Cara almost wanted to laugh, “You see Din, when a man and a woman have sex and the man doesn’t pull out—”
“I know that,” he gave Cara a pointed look, “I mean…just…how is this going to work?” His brows were beginning to furrow again, “What if something happens to me? To us? What if I’m not a good enough father, what if-“
Cara would let that train of thought go no further, and she strutted up to him, grabbing his face and firmly planting her lips on his before staring right into those soft, ever-worried brown eyes.
“Din Djarin, we will figure it out. We always do. And you’re going to be an amazing father,” she assured him, kissing his nose before pulling him into a hug, her hormonal side taking over as she thought of Din as a dad. It wasn’t very difficult to imagine; she had watched him with Grogu and knew he was a natural at parenting. A few tears escaped her as she buried her head in his neck. A few moments later, he responded to her hug, resting his cheek against her temple. The two held each other close, even as the both of them shook with shock, nerves, and, as she would learn when she finally looked up at his face again, tears. “We’re actually having a baby,” he said again, as if to make sure it was true.
“Yes, we are, in just about 32 weeks” she reached up, wiping Din’s tears from his cheeks affectionately.
“Now I know why you’ve been so sick,” he tucked an errant strand of hair behind her ear, “You’re going to be a great mom,” he assured her with a kiss on the forehead, placed a hand gently, almost reverently, on her abdomen, his eyes full of awe as he looked down at it. Now that she had finally told him (and he had reacted favorably), Cara felt a sense of relief and a feeling she could only describe as pure, contented joy. Smiling, she gently pulled his chin down towards her before pressing her lips softly to his. The kiss deepened, and as it did she reached around his shoulders and began toying with the soft little curls at the nape of his neck. Soon, excited hands began wandering as they kissed, and Cara allowed herself to be lead by him from one wall to another until finally, the couple found the bedroom, where Cara shoved Din onto the bed before straddling him. Recovering from her violent shove, he sat up to give her exposed collar bone some attention.
“Din, you are so fucking stupid,” she laughed as she ripped her shirt up and over her head, tossing it somewhere on the floor.
“What?” he paused his ministrations on her collar bone, “Why?”
“How did you not know what ‘bun in the oven’ meant?”
“I guess I just never really heard pregnancy referred to that way,” he stated simply.
“Seriously? Ugh, Din, you’re hopelessly naive,” Cara sighed as she removed her bra.
“Not about everything,” he said, almost smugly, reaching one of his hands up to cup one breast before putting his mouth on the other, which earned him a moan of approval from Cara, “And you’re hopelessly stubborn,” Din added, laughing as he removed his own shirt.
“Mm that I am,” she agreed with a moan, “Now shut up and kiss me, Papa.”
“As long as you kiss me back, Mama,” he responded.
And so they did.
Cara realized some minutes later after they had finished (spectacularly), that maybe he wasn’t such a dumbass after all.
Maybe.