Hey guys,

You're freaking amazing! I haven't had a response like that in a long time! All of you who favorited and followed are incredible and to those of you who are kind enough to take the time to comment, I'm blown away. Seriously, you guys are awesome. I want to make sure to show my gratitude so thank you so much to:

- the miraculous Lisa Smithers, Grogu is so much fun to write for that because he really would try to protect Din whenever he could. And Din so does! I almost feel bad beating him up so badly but its just so much fun to write! I hope you enjoy this chapter too!

- the phenomenal DinDjarin2005, Thank you so much! I'm so glad you like the darker side descriptions and the compassion, that's what I was going for :) I hope you enjoy this chapter!

- the magnificent She-Elf23, I know! I love writing him so much because he totally would be looking out for Din and I love it! I'm glad the toll makes sense! I thought that would make sense and I definitely think that Grogu would love marbles :) I hope you enjoy this chapter too!

- the remarkable Indigene Syke, I'm so glad you thought so :) I do like writing from his perspective, it's so much fun to write the adorableness. I'm going to try to keep including that as I keep writing. He is! Thank you so much and I hope you enjoy this chapter too!

- the incredible JohnGilbertVampirehunter, Here's another one :) I really like that question though but I honestly don't think Din would handle it as well without Grogu there. I like to think that the devolution would have happened far sooner, but I also think some of the compassion I've been trying to write wouldn't have been there.

- the astonishing Tesserat, I'm so glad to hear that! I was definitely going for a increase in the tension :) I promise I will get there but it does have to get a bit worse before they get a break :/ Thank you so much :) I'm glad the descriptions are working!

- the stunning Kaliesto, Thank you so much! I hope you keep enjoying the story!

I don't really have much else to say, other than you guys are all fantastic. And I thought you might appreciate that I wrote parts of the story before I had a title so the title I have for this story in my word document is Mandiator. It made me laugh and needed to tell you that :)

Alright, without further ado...

Enjoy!

Din came to consciousness slowly. Opening one eye at a time, he waited for the compounding pain to hit, waited for the inevitable exhaustion that always came from a restless sleep. But the longer he laid on his back, waiting for reality, he became increasingly aware he felt oddly rested. And not nearly as stiff or sore as he had been even a few hours before. A sinking feeling turned his stomach. Grogu must have done it after he had fallen asleep the night before. With a quiet sigh, Din pressed up on his elbows and settled against the wall. The wounds on his side didn't pull and the bruises from the day before barely stung. It all meant he hadn't hidden his injuries as well as he wanted. While he berated his inability to bury the outcomes of his fights, he rolled his head a few times, stretching his neck and easing the tightness in his shoulders. The dichotomy did nothing but make him angrier.

When he finally opened his eyes, he realized Grogu was staring up at him with a hooded gaze. Din started slightly, "Sorry, pal. I didn't realize you were awake already."

Grogu cooed, tucking his hand under his head and closing his eyes in a long blink.

Din furrowed his brow and suspiciously asked, "You…sleep okay?"

Grogu's eyes blinked open again and he slowly shook his head. He ducked into Din's hip, curling the blanket tighter around his shoulders and closing his eyes.

Hating the stone floor he was lying on, Din gently picked him up and tucked him into the crook of his elbow. As Grogu cuddled, Din murmured, "I'm sorry, bud." Pulling the cloak off his lap, he tucked it over his son to make sure he was warm enough before he added, "We'll get out of here, I promise."

Grogu let out a light sigh and snuggled closer, tugging the cloak over his eyes as he relaxed into Din's arms.

Din laid his hand against Grogu, tucking him in and biting his tongue to keep from screaming. Up until this point, his failures had left his son afraid and in danger but mostly untouched; now he clearly wasn't sleeping. Din knew he couldn't keep hoping for an out, they needed an escape. If little else, he needed to get Grogu out. Grumbling his compounding frustration, Din dropped his head against the wall and turned to face the cage door as the light started to filter through the grates. He watched in a daze as the sun rose, slowly illuminating more of the room. An increasing number of the prisoners groaned awake, but he didn't see any guards appear, nor did the heavy doors open. But he had no chance of investigating because, as the world started to move around them, Grogu continued to sleep.

The sun fully rose, completely lighting the room and still no one came to the doors.

Din had the sneaking hope that he might get a chance to breathe. To plan. He quashed it as quickly as he could. Still, he continued to watch as creatures moved with a bit more excitement. A quiet undercurrent of conversation started to overtake the normally dour tone. He couldn't make anything out but after a time, it became enough that the sound caused Grogu to twitch agitatedly. Din gently tucked the cloak over his ears and hurried to comfort him, "You're alright. I've got you." Din cuddled the little creature close, only allowing himself a slight huff of frustration.

The quiet undercurrent became conspiratorial murmurings once the sun was fully in the sky. The shift in the room was palpable as the day continued to drag on without any indication of a fight. Excitement mixed with relief as the shy murmurs shifted into outspoken chatter.

Grogu continued to sleep, so Din stayed exactly where his was, even as his shoulders stiffened, and his arm fell asleep. He couldn't help his curiosity though and he continued to survey his surroundings, suspicion growing in the back of his mind. Then a coordinated stomp echoed down the stairs. An anxious hush fell over the room as two guards emerged from the shadows. A handful of steps behind them, a well-dressed human appeared. Din squinted when he realized he recognized the man. This close though the small nose and closely pressed eyes settled over thin lips looked far sharper than he had imagined. As the announcer swept onto the floor outside the cage, he turned up his nose and stepped carefully, pulling up the edges of his light cream pants to avoid stepping in some imagined filth. The wide sleeves of his shirt hid his long fingers, but it flowed as he moved revealing a plethora of rings and richly painted nails. Three more large chagrin guards - all dressed in far heavier armor and sporting purplish red capes - appeared behind him. The two regular guards stepped up to the cage but the others arrayed behind the announcer. The prisoners posed no threat so it was little more than a show of dominance.

Silence settled over the caged combatants, and short of nervous murmuring, all the cautious excitement dulled when the man took in a deep breath. Presumably waiting until he had enough attention, there was a long pause before his booming, familiar voice commanded attention, "Combatants, by the grace of Administrator Tarex, you have been awarded a day of rest to prepare for an Evaluation."

A mix of groans and relieved sighs cut through the quiet, small bursts of chattering following on the announcement's heels. The announcer stood, his arms behind his back, his face scrunched as he observed the prisoners. Once he deemed it enough discussion, he cut his hands across his body, voicelessly demanding silence. He continued, "Those who are able, will be required to participate. And those who are not, will not be afforded any of the benefits." There were increased groans and protests as a few of the disadvantaged fighters or families called out their anger. The announcer's mouth puckered, and his eyes narrowed before he spat, "To do so would be to steal from the Administrator who takes care of you. You and your families are given a place to stay and food to eat for the price of your skill. To take any more than what you are returning is theft." His discerning voice was harsh and caused an end to the vocalized frustration. Turning up his nose again, the man said with finality, "You will have today. Do not waste the time."

Without another word, the announcer turned on his heel. Once he had set foot on the stairs, the three chargin guards turned and followed him into the shadows. Only after they were gone, did the other two disappear.

Once the procession was gone, the hush over the cage didn't last long as the nervous twittering started again. A flurry of moment erupted as able fighters collected various items around them. Some pulled armor into their lap, others dug cloths out of hidden places, but all fixed their gaze on the cage door, nearly twitching with anticipation. The collective commotion finally caused Grogu to shift with a quiet groan. Din quietly shushed him and went back to watching the obviously practiced ritual.

The anticipation was justified when, not too long after the announcer disappeared, the sound of rolling metal - which normally indicated food - echoed through the dreary space. Apparently, preparation included making sure the fighters didn't look completely haggard. Joss's darting movement caught his attention as she was one of the first to react. She had her family's bowls tucked under her arms as she dashed toward the front of the rapidly forming line. But Din watched as a few more of those barrels were rolled in. Not everyone hurried to get some food, some took bowls to grab what seemed to be water. Those that did, pulled out rags and started to clean pieces of armor. They still kept their eyes on the food line though.

At the commotion, Grogu grumbled awake. He twisted his head into Din's chest before blinking his eyes open and cooing up at his father with a gently smile.

Din let the relief into his voice, "Feel a little better?" He leaned over and grabbed the containers they used for food. Before he pressed to his feet, he quietly said, "It seems like we're in luck. Looks like we're getting two meals today."

They ate quickly, and Din decided it might be a good idea to at least try to clean his armor. It was meant to be done far more regularly than he had been able to, as a point of honor and a practicality. Pulling a small case of gelled oil out of his pocket, Din used the corner of his cloak to methodically clean the beskar. It took a while, especially with Grogu reaching for every piece he detached.

After an hour or so of this, Joss appeared before them, the small cloth bag clutched in her hand. With an enthusiastic hello, she dropped onto her bottom and crossed her legs, bending over at the waist so she could be at Grogu's level. Resting on her elbows, she excitedly said, "Hey Grogu. I have a new game, do you want to play?"

Grogu shot a look at Din a moment before he crawled out of his father's lap and stared intently at Joss while she drew a circle on the ground and put a small marble in the center.

Din watched the interaction with a small, relieved smile, his hand hovering over the shoulder guard he was in the process of shining. If he hurried, he might be able to get finish it while they played. At least until he found himself splitting his attention between his son and the armor. He listened with half an ear as Joss explained the simple game; the goal was to knock the center marble out of the circle only using the marbles they had in hand. Din watched few rounds before he went back to cleaning.

Grogu grumbled and cooed a few times as he figured the game out. At one point, he sneaked a look back at Din. When he realized his father wasn't looking, he discretely moved the rolling marble just enough for it to hit the center marble. Joss playfully protested the hit. Grogu smiled. But it wasn't enough for him to win though so Joss focused, catching her tongue between her teeth as she lined up her shot.

Din finally fixed the last piece back onto his armor. And Joss gave an excited cry as the target finally rolled out of the circle. She scooped up the toy with a grin. Grogu's ears drooped as he growled but that quickly disappeared when she reset the game. Din took the chance to ask the question he had been chewing on. Waiting for her to take her turn, Din finally asked, "What exactly is this Evaluation?"

Joss watched Grogu's turn, distractedly answered, "It's somethin' they do every once and a while."

"What is it though?" Din asked more pointedly.

Joss's gaze snapped up as though she had just heard the question. Blinking a few times, she asked, "The Evaluation?" When Din nodded, she shrugged and explained, "The Admin likes to show off his fighters to the city, I guess." She flicked the marble at the one in the center, scrunching her nose when it missed. She looked back up at Din, "I don't know a lot but from what my dad said, they talk to you and stuff." Then she inexplicably dropped her gaze and awkwardly said, "That's why I have these."

The nervousness was easy to pick up and Din pressed it, "They give you things?"

"Sometimes…" Joss trailed off, biting her lip as if she knew what Din was going to ask.

Din didn't hear it and hurried asked, "Can they free us?"

Joss shook her head sadly, "No, nothing like that. No one gets out of here. They just give you like food and toys and stuff."

"Why?"

Joss shrugged, "I don't really know…Sometimes the people ask what the fighters want and if they say somethin', they get it, but then the fighter has to wear their symbol or somethin'." She rolled the marble she was holding between her fingers before she explained, "My dad fought for one of the rich families for a while. They gave him toys for me and Riva. Extra food, armor, weapons…stuff like that." She stopped with the game, her gaze was fixed on him.

Din tipped his head to the side and struggled to keep the anger out of his voice when he asked, "Why don't they help him now?"

Joss held the gaze of his visor and sadly explained, "He lost badly, so they stopped."

Din couldn't keep the anger out of his tone, "They didn't try to help him?"

Joss shook her head, her eyes welling up.

Din growled under his breath, but forced a calm voice, "What is wrong with him?" He felt guilty for never having asked before.

A few tears fell before Joss dropped her gaze and admitted, "He has a fever that's taken too long to break. Probably an infection. A couple of days before you got here, the guy he fought cheated, he used another blade he wasn't supposed to have." She bit her bottom lip as a few more tears fell. The she continued with a sad shrug, "We tried to keep it clean, but it didn't help."

Din leaned forward and said almost incredulously, "You mean a bacta-patch, antibiotics, that's all he needs?"

Joss nodded and curled her marble into her hand, biting her lip. Her tears fell freely now.

Grogu listened to the conversation taking place over his head. A flash of anger ignited when he realized he could heal Joss's father with little problem, but he knew Din would never let him. Without meaning to, he growled up at Din. And in that moment the anger ended. The frustrated indignation he felt was nothing compared to the ire he felt rolling off his father. Grogu tucked his head back as he reached out to that. He knew Din was getting progressively more irate and frustrated, but the sheer weight of this awakened fury scared him. Never had he felt anything like this. He reached out and touched Din's thigh, releasing a calming sense before he turned back to Joss, desperate to help.

Din felt the tranquil presence. Tipping his face up, he watched as his son shuffled forward and put his claw on Joss's hand. Din didn't have a hard time believing he was doing what he wasn't supposed to be doing, but he didn't have the heart – or tact – to stop him.

Joss smiled tearfully down at Grogu but quietly answered Din with a saddened whisper, "That's how it is here."

Grogu climbed into her lap and rolled his marble toward the center. He missed it and growled, lowering his ears but looking up at Joss. When she chuckled slightly, he turned to face her with a small smile. She wrapped him in a light hug and quietly said, "Thanks."

Din watched with simmering anger as Joss took her awkward turn, still hugging Grogu.

The wake-up call for the Evaluation was slightly different than the calls for the fights. Instead of guards rounding up one fighter at a time, it was a highly coordinated emptying of the cell. The guards – electricity crackling at the ends of the prods – stepped to the back of the room, forcing fighters up as they moved in a line toward the door. Because of that, Din was one of the first ones forced to his feet and in a split second, he had to decide what to do with Grogu. He didn't want to leave him, but in that moment, it was more frightening to take him out into the light of the planet. In here, no one knew what he was, but if these citizens were well-connected – which Joss implied they would be – Grogu was in more danger. Din froze. The guard wasn't kind, flicking the prod toward him, the man ordered, "Let's go, Mando."

Din's gaze darted to where Joss was sitting, her arm wrapped around her sister while they curled away from the guards. Din decided. Forcing himself to move, Din carried his son over to Joss and Riva. Kneeling, Din hurriedly, awkwardly asked, "Can you watch him, please? Can he stay with you?"

Joss unwrapped an arm and reached out to take Grogu. Din handed him over, his hands lingering for a moment as he watched Joss pull Grogu in between them. Offering a quick "thanks", he pressed to his feet before he could second guess his decision. He glanced back over his shoulder once as he made his way into the herd.

Stepping into the light, out of the shadow of the arena, Din nearly shielded his eyes. It had only been two days since he had been in the sun, but the brightness was still shocking. He had managed to clean his beskar and get it back to something resembling a shine, but even with all his armor, he felt like the crowds were looking through him when he walked past the first few humans. The procession was set to the backdrop of citizens waving bright flags, emphasizing the same colors of the flowers adorning nearly every home, flowers and colors Din had forgotten decorated this planet. The people were colorfully dressed as well, some cheering, others jostling to try to get a better look at the combatants. Through it all, cheers echoed around them. It was similar to a match but the whistles and calls embodied a different feeling than they did in the arena. The clamor didn't build on itself in the way it did with the curve of the stadium; instead it escaped into the dry air. But it was the bloodlust that was the most noticeably absent. The crowds weren't baying, howling for the stroke that would spill blood. They just seemed...excited.

As he looked around, Din realized there were far more prisoners on the street than he assumed there would be, while he had known the other fighters had to be kept somewhere, to see the number of them crushed between watchful guards on a street that held at least six adults across it, there were far more people than he thought. In the throng, he saw a few combatants he recognized. Feeling the twinge of guilt when one of the humans – Lazarus – limped along in front of him.

The procession continued through the main artery out of the stadium before twisting down the another large road. Still more people were densely packed along the sidewalks, flashes of wealth were noticeable in their clothing. The colors were just a little more vivid, the smiles just a little brighter, and the howling grew incrementally louder. Along this path, some people hung out of windows above the street, tossing thin, colored paper squares onto the road below.

But behind a particularly thin throng of people, Din caught sight of a hanger. That was what he needed. Turning slightly to watch it as he passed, he noticed a good number of ships inside. Spinning on his heel, he tried to figure out exactly where he was. It was a decent distance and if the number of guards were any indication, it would be a hell of a fight getting there but it was something. What he really needed was the Crest, but if he could get airborne, that would be enough for now.

The line jogged to the left again and they continued toward a massive structure, long and low, dominating the street. It was obviously far older than the stadium, looking as though the city had initially been constructed around it. It was decorated with bright, waving banners that managed to catch the light wind, and mimicked the colors of the rest of the city.

Unprovoked, Din's frustration and anger blended into a sickened feeling. He had never once been wearing his armor and still felt so exposed. He could feel the eyes on him, and for the first time in his life, he regretted cleaning his armor to a shine. It was a point of honor that he held beskar armor. He had always known it would draw attention, the Armorer had reminded him before she forged it how many eyes it would draw. But drawing attention had never been an issue because he could handle any threat. Normally. Now he was in a situation that required far more than he had to give. He was a focus of attention and it was disquieting.

The crowd was far quieter closer to this large, white-brick building. Where the rest of the city seemed haphazard, if well-cared for, this building was deliberate. Din couldn't see the end of the construction from where he was standing, it disappeared beyond the buildings on either side of the street. But he did notice that over the obscuring rooftops, tall, thin towers that cut across the skyline. The towers were topped with what looked like should be unbalanced circular spires. The building had to stretch across multiple blocks for that to be possible. The white block walls he could see seemed to stretch between the towers with crenellations running along the top. The bright banners provided color to the pale walls, but there were also flowers hanging down from the battlements. The entire structure sat in the center of a well-manicured, meticulously pruned garden. It was difficult to tell exactly what the pattern of the flowers was, but Din could see enough changing colors to assume it was intricate. The entire façade seemed to mock the dehumanizing procession prostrate before it.

The slaves before Din came to a stop and he followed suit. Squinting, he saw the announcer standing on a raised podium just outside the garden. The collective observers quieted as he demanded attention with a booming salutation, "Greetings, combatants! For months you have provided the people of Chrohold with unparalleled entertainment. Fighting with passion and energy and proving that all creatures of any standing can demonstrate strength and honor."

Din heard multiple quiet scoffs ripple through the crowd as nervous twittering filtered through the throng.

The announcer continued, "As a gift for your dedication, Administrator Tarex has decreed you will be allowed to stand for an Evaluation. You will have the chance to meet those who want to reward your work." He lowered his voice as if giving solicited advice. Somehow the volume still carried. "Know your accomplishments, and realize they are choosing to engage with you. They are your superiors, do not forget that."

Unconsciously, Din to growl at the implications.

The announcer swung his hands wide and addressed the whole crowd again, "At the behest of the magnanimous Administrator Tarex, enter, engage, and realize the reward you are being given for your work!"

Without more direction, the crowd started to press forward, and Din allowed himself to be carried along.

As he walked into the room, Din could feel the haughty gazes on him. There was a quiet whisper that swelled through the room as he stepped onto the floor. People pointed in his direction before turning to those near them and whispering to each other. It caused the hair to rise on the back of his neck and a bead of sweat slipped down his temple. This was a far different situation than stepping into the arena, there was no way he would be able to fight all these people off. The fighters were led into the middle of the room while the colorfully dressed citizens were arrayed around the edges. Some were talking quietly to each other; others were staring intently at the fighters.

Din swallowed hard and forced his shoulders back as he stepped farther into the room. Forcing himself to observe the new world he was in, Din tried to squash the awe he felt at the interior of the room. Instead of the colorful decorations on the outside of the building, the interior was starkly, brightly white with only hints of accent colors smattered around. Although, the creatures on the inside of the grand room made up for the lack of color on the walls.

There was a band playing in the background and as the grand doors they had entered through thudded closed, the carefree strains carried out of the background causing the volume of the conversation to increase as well. It didn't last long as a particular song started to play. With it, the crowd hushed, and all eyes turned to the front of the room. Once the song swelled to a crescendo, the Administrator appeared on the stage. His gold threaded otherwise white jacket had a shock of purplish red that wrapped around his shoulder and down the right side of his body. It was emphasized by the garish blood-red shirt he was wearing below it and all of it was emphasized by the cream pants he seemed to always wear. He raised his hands subtly and the crowd immediately hushed and came to his attention. His sharp red eyes slipped across the colorfully dressed citizens, "To all my people, I welcome you to this evaluation celebration. Without you, the grand experiment of this planet would fail." Then his gaze turned to the slaves gathered in the center of the room before he said, "And to you, I hope this proves to be a beneficial experience. Please eat and enjoy this time to meet those who want nothing more than to aid you in your honorable fights." His gaze swept over the whole crowd, "You have control over this room tonight, please talk to those who take your interest and enjoy the wealth of the city that you have helped create."

Muted clapping and controlled cheers met the call as the band picked up the music again and the citizens stepped into the throng of slaves at its center. Din stood frozen as those around him turned toward those brightly colored intruders.

As he was contemplating the situation, an older human stepped in front of him. Without hiding his interest, the man looked Din up and down, obviously taking in the freshly cleaned armor and the unwavering, stoic mask. He was clearly wealthy with multiple rings adoring his fingers, gold thread stitching his clothing and long hair that had been recently cleaned and styled. The woman on his arm had a puckered look on her painted lips, her deep brown hair was shot through with red and she looked down her nose at Din. The man studied Din closely once more before he said with hunger in his voice, "I would like to sponsor you, Mandalorian."

Din turned to face him but didn't engage.

The man narrowed his gaze and then continued, "Did you hear me? I would like you to fight for me."

Din continued to stare at him.

The man scoffed and then added, "I thought that stoic façade was simply for the arena." Without another word, the man spun away from him with a flourish, the woman sticking with him in an impressive display of agility. But far more were watching him so he didn't bother to follow.

Not too long after, another man approached. He was taller and thinner than the first, and his hair was cropped close to his scalp. Like everyone else in the room he was well-dressed, but what stood out was the ghost of a smile that seemed genuinely permanent on his expression. It shifted as he saw those he knew, but it never disappeared, giving off the appearance of nefarious purposes. There was an arrogance in his posture that was distinctly off-putting. He stepped up to where Din was still standing but his gaze was on the back of the man who just walked away. Almost as if he were simply having a conversation, he said, "You have good taste, Mandalorian. All should ignore Ghemna in the same way." He turned to face Din; his long fingers flicked up to rest on his chin before he narrowed his gaze to study Din in a far more subtle way. It made him uncomfortable, but this type of person felt far more familiar. This man had hired more than one hunter in his time. Those types of people were far easier to predict. Din was interested.

The man seemed to be waiting for Din to reply, but when he didn't, he instead filled in the dead air. "I'm assuming he was trying to get you to talk. Not a bad plan, so many of these combatants put on airs in the arena. But you are not one of those, I believe." He looked up but didn't seem phases by Din's continued silence. "You are a skilled fighter." The edges of his lips quirked but he didn't break the smile when he continued, "I didn't quite believe it when the rodian said he had captured a true Mandalorian. I assumed he had put some unfortunate slave in Mandalorian armor. But this…" He reached out and scratched a manicured nail across the armor, "is real beskar. Only a true Mandalorian would have armor made of true beskar, forged in the old ways."

Din remained silent but little of what this man was saying did anything to make him feel comfortable.

The man seemed to sense it. His façade slipped as he looked squarely at Din, the conversational tone gone but the smirk remaining when he said, "What do you want to fight for me, Mandalorian?"

Din swallowed, forcing himself to acknowledge this was his situation. This man seemed connected, a person who could prove to be a useful, if ultimately disposable, ally. Din considered his options for a moment more before forcing an answer past his throat, "Medical supplies."

"Ahh, he speaks!" The man declared, his smile broadening again. But then he seemed to hear what Din said, and the smile slipped as he tucked his chin to his chest before he questioned, "What?"

Din turned to face him fully and elaborated, "You asked what I wanted. I want medical supplies. Bacta patches, antibacterial shots, bandages."

The man tipped his head and rubbed his thumb across his chin, considering the Mandalorian before him. "That's all?"

Din nodded, "Yes."

"Fighters often ask for more than that." He dropped his hand to the side as his eyes narrowed.

"I do not want more from you than I need." Din answered in a flat monotone.

Twisting his lips in surprise, and a hint of anger, the man flicked his fingers up and said, "Fine. I'll have some delivered to you later in the week."

Din pressed his luck, tipping his head up to the taller man, he simply said, "No. Tonight."

The man raised his eyebrow, lifting his head and crossing his arms across his chest. "Slaves don't traditionally talk to their patrons in that way."

Din took a threatening step toward his potential patron and spat, "I'm not a slave. And you're not my patron." He bit his tongue as his anger finally broke through his stoicism.

The man's eyes widened in surprised, but he chuckled, "You are. And if you accept my gift, I am." Then his voice dropped dangerously even as he said, "But I appreciate that fire. Few slaves still have that."

Din snarled, but was afraid to press his luck too far, he was angry, but he was still practical. He needed allies. He could deal with personal slights if it presented some kind of change in his situation, whatever that it.

The man raised his eyebrow, but the congeniality was back with the smile when he promised, "I will have it delivered by the end of the evening." He folded his hands behind his back and said, "But I have a request in return."

Din inclined his head.

"You're fighting a particularly difficult combatant tomorrow. One that is owned by one of my…more arrogant, and annoying, competitors."

Din clenched his jaw and waited for the inevitable elaboration.

The man templed his fingers under his chin as he stared at Din with a ghost of a smile. Only after it became obvious that Din wasn't going to ask, the man's thin smile slipped into a neutral expression. "I don't want you to kill him though. Wound him. Take him out of the fight." The smile returned when he added slyly, "Show Eema his glave-wielding nerf-herder isn't as invincible as he thinks…" He trailed off as he chuckled quietly to himself.

Din was put off by the behavior, but he didn't want to talk to anyone else, he wanted to leave. He had been away from his son for too long and he wanted to get back. He was here to make a deal so he stood still, waiting.

Finally, the chuckling stopped as the man looked up at Din, his face falling back to that neutral expression.

When Din didn't say anything again, the man's eyes narrowed and he tipped his head to glance sideways at Din before he asked, "Are you stupid? Do you understand what I'm saying?"

Din inclined his head before realizing it might not be a good thing to press his new patron any farther. He cleared his throat and said, "I understand. Incapacitate, not kill."

The wicked smile was back, wider this time. "Let's see if you're worth the excitement." He scrunched his nose and added with a shrug, "Make the fight a little longer than your last few though. It never quite has the same impact when you debilitate or kill someone within the first few minutes." He tipped up his lips and admitted, "Although it is quite impressive to see."

That's all for right now.

If you're still reading, I wanted to make sure to let you know that I might not be able to update this upcoming week. I'm going to try but I have a demanding schedule next week and that makes writing and editing more difficult. I've been trying to update as consistently as I can so I wanted to make sure to let everyone who's reading know!

As always, feel free to let me know what you thought in the comments :)

I hope you have a wonderful night/day and stay creative!

-Lily