The first time Din brings you into the training room he can barely contain his excitement at showing you the walls covered in weapons of various shapes and sizes – staff, spear, blaster, rifle, sword, grappling line, on and on…you quickly lose track of their names as he rattles them off.
"Is that a mace, Din?" you ask disbelievingly, getting ahead of his tour.
"Sure is," he confirms, nodding proudly as if it's the most ordinary thing in the world to see five different maces neatly lined up on a rack.
You gape at him, equal parts horrified and awed by the sheer amount of excess currently surrounding you. Whatever expression that translates to on your face seems to warrant his solemn explanation, "Weapons are part of our religion."
"Right. Yes," you reply awkwardly. This concept is definitely not new to you. On the contrary, you've heard this phrase many times before. It's one thing to hear it though and another to have it visually splayed out in front of you.
You've passed by this room countless times but you never knew how large it was; it must take up half of the entire covert space. On your initial survey there are areas set up with targets, punching bags, boxing rings, weights and plenty of floor space for sparring. There are multiple other areas blocked off with various contraptions you don't even know the name of. Din really wasn't exaggerating when he said he was training in everything.
Mandalorians are warriors. As you wander the space, you're struck by what the term "warrior" must really mean to them and the extraordinary standards that they hold themselves to. You have a new appreciation for the dedication and intensity of Din's life.
You return from a brief loop around the training center to Din looking contemplatively at the mace rack.
"Sorry, I don't think we can start off with the mace, it's probably too advanced for you right now...but I'm sure in a couple months we can work our way up to it," he says sensing your approach and turning to you with a sympathetic look. He didn't think you'd show interest in a weapon right away so he hadn't accounted for it in his lesson plans. Din braces himself for your disappointment.
You can't believe he thinks using that weapon is your heart's desire. You decide to play along.
"Hmm. Okay. Well, that's a let-down. But if I can't use the mace, than I want to use this sword." You point to the largest sword in the armory with elaborate etchings on its hilt. It looks so heavy you're pretty sure you couldn't even pick it up, yet alone swing it with ease.
He looks at the sword and frowns, seriously considering this as an alternate weapon of choice for you. It was so hard to get you to agree to come in the first place- whatever you want to learn he'll teach it to you. It's certainly easier than the mace…Din's already running through basic sword stances in his head. He starts to reach for it and you stop him.
"Oh maker, Din! I'm just kidding. I can't believe you'd actually think I want to use a mace or sword!" you exclaim, slapping his shoulder lightly and giving an exasperated huff. "Let's just do some hand-to-hand stuff," you pull him away from the wall onto the mat.
Din looks at you sheepishly. For the first time in his life, he's relieved to end a conversation about weapons. He begins the lesson he originally had planned and you listen attentively.
It's been several months and you're in the covert's training room with Din, in the evening at his insistence, having a hand-to-hand combat lesson.
Din thinks you've improved but he'd still like for you to be better. He tells you that much and you sigh at his impossibly high Mandalorian standards.
"You had a head start!" you tease him, "If I had started lessons when we first met, I'd be just as good as you."
He rolls his eyes and gestures at you with both hands, "Come again at me."
"Din, this is like the tenth time! I'm not going to be actively trying to fight anyone. This is only for self- defense like we said. Plus I'm tired, let's just go get something to eat," your voice pitches into a whine. Your body aches everywhere and you don't want to go again.
Din shrugs, unaffected. He's determined to make sure you can protect yourself and now that you're on his personalized training regime, he won't be deterred.
"Sure, get me down on the mat then we'll go eat."
You perk up at the challenge. That sounds great to you. Finally, an endpoint to this lesson.
You charge at him and then stop suddenly. He looks confused and you take that split second to give him a solar plexus strike, just like he taught you and he's too surprised to block it. You tackle him to the floor while he's bent forward trying to recover. Victory!
You're straddling him and sitting on his stomach, both of you winded and catching your breath. It was a cheap shot but you're hungry and want to leave. Din has also taught you to use everything and anything in your arsenal in a fight; you know he won't mind your strategy.
You playfully take his hands and pin them above his head while he looks up at you stunned and impressed. Din cannot believe you actually caught him off guard.
"See? Got you. Just needed the right motivation," you say, grinning proudly at your accomplishment. You're leaning over him and looking into his warm, brown eyes. They're soft and vulnerable right now and you catch him looking down at your lips as you're bent forward. He quickly looks back up at you again but you know you saw it.
Your heart is racing and it's not just the exercise. You've been feeling differently about Din for a while now but wasn't sure if he felt the same. You've been best friends for so long it's hard to know when everything meant more. When there was a different type of urgency getting to the end of the day to see him. When seeing him give you a crooked smile when you hit a target started a torrent of butterflies in your stomach. When you lingered a little too long in his arms when you hug goodbye. When you longed for him to call you cyar'ika again.
You never thought he could feel the same way, but when he's pinned under you and you're in such an intimate position it feels like you're so close to getting everything you want already. You don't want to overthink it, so you rapidly gather your courage to take that metaphorical leap.
You take a deep breath, close your eyes, lean forward and kiss him.
His lips are soft against yours and there's a moment pause before Din's brain catches up to him and he gently returns your kiss. One kiss turns into two, into three and you're both breathless for entirely different reasons now.
You sit up and release his hands, smiling down at him with both relief and joy knowing he reciprocates your feelings.
Din can barely form a coherent thought right now, wondering if he must have hit his head too and this is all his imagination. He thinks your smile is as radiant as the sun though, so he must have done something right. He blinks up at you, stunned, but easily returns your grin.
You stand and offer him your hand and he's dazed as he gets up. You pull him along, heart overflowing with happiness, off into the night.