The price of beskar was going up; that was undoubtedly true. As the Mandalorians gathered in larger numbers under Bo-Karan Kryze, remnants of Imperial loyalists wanted them dead. It wasn't only for that shiny, durable metal. It was also to make sure the Mandalorian creed was virtually extinct. With the loss of the Jedi Order during the Clone Wars and the destruction of Mandalore, two of the galaxy's greatest threats were wiped away in less than a human's lifetime.

Which made it all the more confusing to Din Djarin why Rowan Typhe was worth so much beskar. The bounty on her head, which had been offered exclusively to him, was nearly double what had been offered for Grogu.

Who was offering it? That question remained unanswered. But Din had seen the beskar on Carlac before setting out to find his bounty. He had seen its glimmer; the thought of where it had come from or who it belonged to was long lost in his mind. If it had come from his fallen brothers, Din only knew that he was to return to its rightful place. It was vital that beskar be returned to Mandalorians.

But at what cost?

He had trusted Rowan too quickly but strangely felt no regret. If his instincts were correct, they would stay by one another's side until the client made their appearance. Everything would be alright in the end, but Din wanted Rowan with him.

Not wanted - needed.

Such a thought flashed through Din's head whilst he scuffed up the dry sand of Mos Eisley. Over the course of a day, he had helped locals with their speeders, pests, and debt collections. The credits received in return were a pretty number, but never quite enough. Much to Rowan's disappointment, the duo would have to stick around for another day or two, even if to just pay off Peli.

Din returned to the hangar just as the Tatooine suns were setting. Rowan was immediately on his left, wearing a welding helmet that protected her tan face from an uproar of flames. In her typical flippant nature, she wore little to protect her upper body. He could spot scars sprinkled across her back and forearms, many of them appearing to be recent. Some of them were certainly from flames - fixing coils was rough work - while others were undoubtedly the mark of a blade.

Rowan was dripping with sweat and didn't seem to notice her companion as she continued to meld plates together. She simply kept at her work, her back arched in the shape of an expert craftsman.

"I've got to admit it; she's good." Peli spoke up at Din's side. "She just jumped right in. Wouldn't let me help. She's fixed thirteen coils so far." The woman whistled in admiration. "If I was into ladies, I'd ask her for a drink."

"Thirteen?" Din muttered in surprise. "How long has she been working?"

"Since you left. Hasn't stopped once except to have some blue milk and a loaf of bread. She said something about wanting to pay you back for something - insistent that she was going to pay for the price of repairs, but by this point, she's already exceeded that."

Din set down his spear to cross the courtyard. It was only when the Mandalorian's hand reached out that Rowan reemerged in reality.

"Hey, you've got to be careful sneaking up on me like that." Rowan sighed as the helmet slipped off easily against her sweat. "I could have turned this flame to your-" Rowan's eyes glanced at his beskar. "Nevermind."

Peli snorted. "You've done more than enough for today, lady."

"I need to finish this. Just give me another hour."

"Rowan." The Mandalorian's tone was firm. "You need to eat."

The mechanic smirked before securing her helmet. "Oh? And you don't?"

"Finish up, but no more of this tomorrow," Peli interjected. "If you want some extra work, Mando can take you with him on a delivery run."

Rowan could have sworn an audible hiss escaped the Mandalorian's helmet. "I don't work in a team-"

"Well, too bad," Peli snapped. "You're already in one, so get used to it."

Peli was right. Din had gotten himself into a team. And there really was little he could do about it. It also made him anxious to leave Rowan alone for yet another day, even more so considering she was worth a pretty credit. One could never be too sure what others knew on Tatooine.

Din glanced at Rowan as she continued to work, the sound too invasive for him to bother having a conversation. He simply watched, transfixed on her nimble fingers and skilled focus. After a stretch of silence passed between the pair, Rowan finally turned to her companion.

"Maybe I am hungry."

"I'll get you something to eat."

Her hand found his upper arm as he turned to leave. "I want to go to the cantina," she mumbled. "I need a drink."

"It's too dangerous."

"I'll wear a mask." Her face was still covered, but he could hear a playful edge in her voice. "We can be twins."

"Peli will take you."

"I want you." A beat of hesitation. "To come with us - I mean." The Mandalorian muttered something about having enemies on Mos Eisley, but Rowan knew better than to acknowledge it. "You owe me for all of these repulsor coils and the credits I'm about to hand over to you. Even twenty percent of this sale is going to be enough to buy your next round of fuel."

Din knew she was right. "Why?"

"Why what?"

"Why do you want me to go?"

Rowan thought he might rush to cover such a blunt question up, considering it was the most bluntly he had spoken to her, but the warrior said nothing. In fact, he almost leaned into it, taking a step closer.

Was he mocking her?

Was he annoyed

Rowan couldn't tell, but she was certain he could sense her sudden embarrassment.

"I just-"

"Why do you want me to go?"

The repetition sent a chill down Rowan's spine. What did he want? A confession? Truthfully, Rowan didn't have an immediate answer. Because they were friends. Because she wanted to feel safe, and nobody in the galaxy did that better than him. Because she couldn't stand Peli's chatter alone.

None of it was the right answer.

Rowan shrugged. "Just looking for a bit of… diverse conversation."

Din retreated to his original spot. Before he could say anything to slice through the tension between them, Rowan secured the cover of her helmet.

"See you at the gate, Mando."

The Mandalorian had insisted - in private - that Rowan cover her face. There were eyes everywhere. With the price on her head, Din was certain some of those eyes were lingering in the shadows of Mos Eisley.

Rowan had no objection. She, too, was growing increasingly worried about travelers from Mos Espa. At the sight of her, enemies would run back to the Klatoonians, or even the Hutts who suspected she abandoned them, and make a bet on her hide. It was obvious that Rowan was a woman of the Tatooine, however, meaning she needed to be particularly cautious about her disguise.

There was also the issue of Peli.

"What's that rag on your face for?"

Peli was referring to a golden veil that covered Rowan's face from the eyes down. She had also filled the pits of her eyes with charcoal to mask her features even further.

"Let's just say there are some people who…" Rowan tossed an anxious look at the Mandalorna. "... shouldn't know that I'm here."

Peli seemed to eat up the little information without further questions. "Well, I get that. Took me a long time to develop a reputation around here. And you said you're from Mos Espa?" Her back visibly shuddered at the city's name. "Well, I just get it."

"Let's go," Rowan encouraged. "I could really use a drink."

Peli wrapped her arm around the woman's shoulders. "Now you're speaking my language!"

When the trio was finally seated in the nearby cantina, it didn't take long for numerous beings to make their way over to their table. Feeling shy at their quick glances, Rowan pulled her mask further up her nose.

"Don't worry," the Mandalorian whispered. "They're not here for you."

"Place your bets, dirtbags!" Peli clasped her hands with greed. There was already a queue of four different beings waiting for her gambling hands

Rowan could hardly blame her. What else was there to do in Mos Eisley?

"This could take a while," the Mandalorian mumbled. "Let me get you a drink."

Rowan nodded and followed him up to the bar. She could feel eyes lingering on her frame, trying to make sense of what was beneath such heavy, loose clothing. The more one seemed to hide on Tatooine, the more others searched.

"Bakura bitters, right?" The Mandalorian asked.

"Good memory," Rowan smiled.

The Mandalorian slid his coins to the bartender and prepared for the awkward silence that often followed. It was inevitable that he turned to look at her, the golden halo of her scarf accentuating her striking eyes. He was surprised to see Rowan already looking at him, her fist resting against the side of her head as she leaned into the bar.

The last time she had stared at him had been in the rain.

Foreheads pressed together.

His hand on her heart, their fingers over one another.

Eyelids flickering.

Din looked away, but Rowan seemed unfazed. "The last time we were in a cantina together, I proved my innocence to you. And now, here we are… ordering a drink together with no other plans than to simply enjoy it."

"That's not true." He briefly turned toward her. "I'm looking for work."

"I earned more than enough with those repulsor coils."

"So?"

"So, are we… friends now?"

"That's presumptive of you."

As Rowan turned toward the counter, he wanted nothing more than for her to face him again. "Maybe I'm better off being friends with Peli," Rowan chuckled. "At least she talks as much as I do."

"She doesn't say anything of value. Unlike you."

Din nearly sighed in relief as she turned to him once again. "Go on," Rowan cooed.

You talk a lot, but you say exactly what needs to be said. You talk in a way that makes people listen. You have the voice of a leader, but hide it behind jests. You could be someone history remembers, if only you listened to your own voice.

Din Djarin had seen signs of leadership in Rowan from the moment they met. Although she claimed to be his equal in loneliness, the two were very different. Rowan enjoyed conversing with strangers, and more than that she enjoyed learning about them. Her willingness to learn Tusken, her fascination with the Mandalorian culture, and her constant connection to the natural world were done out of curiosity - not necessity. Whoever he teacher, they were lucky. They had a strong student in Rowan Typhe. Din halfway wondered if it could be him, but something in the pit of his stomach nudged that it was not the right answer.

Who was her teacher? Who are her people? And why couldn't it be him?

Din already knew why: she distracted him.

The way she looked through his visor - consistently and pesteringly. The tautness of her arms when she spun his spear. The way her eyes spoke of battles won lifetimes ago, despite her obvious youth. The beauty of her character, which had no better definition than persistent.

Stars, Din cursed to himself. He hadn't felt this confused since Grogu - maybe even more than Grogu. Rowan consumed his thoughts like an imaginary flame that was able to pierce through beskar. It wasn't even real. Everything about Rowan Typhe felt the same way - barely real. Unimaginary. Distant.

And yet, he wanted to close the gap. Distance was becoming less attractive as time went on.

The Mandalorian took a step closer to Rowan along the bar. He was about to say something, the shock in the woman's eyes evident from behind their charcoal frame. However, the bartender droid failed to notice the tension as his mechanic arm stretched across the tabletop.

"Bakura Bitter," the droid announced monotonously.

"Thank you," Rowan mumbled.

"Let's get back to Peli."

As they crossed the bar and made their way back to the booth, Rowan's head was swimming. He had taken a step closer. Why did she feel like she was drowning? He didn't have more authority. They were equals. And yet, something was different. At the start, Rowan knew that she had been overly talkative in an effort to earn his trust. Now she felt anxious, nervous, and cautious about what she said.

By the time the duo sat back down, Peli was finishing a bet with a yellow-eyed creature. "Meet Hem Dazon," the gambler rolled her eyes. "Tatooine's resident deadbeat." The creature replied in an unfamiliar language. "Don't get your brains in a twist! You know it's the truth!" Her palm smacked the table. "You lost all those credits on the cheapest booze here and got stuck. Your only hope is to win this all against me tonight." She flipped her Sabacc cards over, revealing a victorious green card. "Which, naturally, ain't gonna happen." She jerked her thumb sideways in a call for him to leave. "Get lost, bug eyes!"

Rowan slid further in as the disgruntled creature made his way to another booth. Peli too distracted to hear his curses, was scooping a huge pile of credits into her rucksack.

Rowan flipped over one of the Sabacc cards. They were well-loved and reminded her of time spent with the Hutts. "I've heard of Sabacc." She slid her fingertips over the edges of the cards. "I'd like to play if you don't mind another round."

"You've heard of it?" Peli scoffed. "Then you'd better just keep listening or you'll end up losing double what you made me today."

Rowan looked at the Mandalorian. That familiar flame was back in the darkness of her eyes.

"How much more do you need?" Rowan muttered.

Din turned slightly. "Of what?"

"Credits."

Din moved his sight to Peli's winnings. "Rowan, I don't think-"

"I've heard that I'm lucky."

Rowan knew how to gamble. More importantly, she knew Sabacc. She was asking him what he needed for his ship and travel expenses.

She was playing the game for him.

"Wouldn't heart to earn double what you made," Din sighed.

Rowan looked back at Peli. "There you have it."

Peli whistled in disbelief. "That's a foolish move, but only on your part. You're on."

Rowan extended her hand. "Shake on it."

"What good is that gonna do?" Peli flinched as if Rowan's hand were covered in Hutt slime.

Rowan pushed her hand further across the table. "Once we shake, you can't get out unless the game is called." Peli didn't hesitate to shake on it. Rowan scooped up the cards and began to shuffle. Din tried to follow their conversation, not entirely aware of the rules of the game but found himself lost at the first sentence.

"Five or two?"

Peli shrugged. "Ah, what the hell. Let's go for two."

"House rules."

"Are you asking or telling?"

"Telling," Rowan said as her eyes narrowed.

"Wait a minute…" Peli's eyes grew wide.

"Mando will deal them out."

"You do know Sabacc!"

Rowan tapped the deck. "Left of the dealer."

"Mos Espa scum," Peli said with a grunt. "If we're going to play that way, I want Correllian Spike."

Rowan nodded in agreement, handing the Mandalorian the cards. The man sat, frozen, unsure of what to do with them.

"Give us two," Rowan encouraged him. "And two for yourself."

"What?"

"Just do it."

Din obeyed her command, slipping the women their cards. He had no idea what happened from there. The most he knew about Sabacc was that there were four key stages: betting, calling, shifting, and drawing. The winner was supposed to get as close to the value of 23 as possible, with the cards being locked in or occasionally changing at random. However, the Correllian Spike version took an entirely different approach: the players were to get closest to zero.

He watched as Peli took the top card from the deck. The face-up card was beside it, a two, which she swapped in exchange for a four. Rowan scoffed, her eyes twinkling in the ever-growing darkness of the cantina.

"Thinking of an Idiot's Array? We're not playing that game, Peli."

Peli snorted. "You think I'm that stupid?"

Rowan announced she would stand, which meant take no action, as her eyes moved towards the Mandalorian. "It's your move. Make an action so you can roll the die."

"I didn't agree-"

He could sense her smile from beneath the scarf. "We're gonna need that dice roll, Mando."

Din simply declared a stand and rolled the die. The die roll made all submit their hands to the deck and draw a new set with the same value. This continued on, the cards forever a secret between the three of them, for the next round of drinks. Little action took place until Din rolled the die for the third time.

"Time to reveal your hands," Rowan sighed. Her cards added up to three. Not so bad. Peli, however, found this humorous. She not only laughed abruptly, capturing the attention of half the cantina but practically screeched to announce her victory.

"Two!" Her finger shook with joy as she wagged at the splattered cards. "Should have had you put those credits in the middle before we started so I know you're good for 'em."

Rowan leaned back, her arms outstretched. "I would love to give them to you… but the game isn't over. We've got one more hand to reveal." She snapped her head to the Mandalorian, eyes twinkling in the moonlight. "Care to reveal your hand?"

The Mandalorian glanced down at his cards. He had a four. Was it really that good? He set the cards upright, silence passing between them. He was certain Peli would sing in victory, but instead, she released a steady groan.

Rowan whooped with victory, her arm swinging around her head as she brought her fist back down to the table. What was left of her drink splashed up over the lip of the mug, staining her already faded Sabacc cards. "I said I was lucky, but I didn't say why!" Rowan grabbed the Mandalorian's wrist to raise his arm in the air, her smile evident in the crease of her eyes. "This hunk of beskar is my good luck charm and I knew he wasn't going to let me down!"

Peli's face fell into her oil-stained hands before she tossed a bag of credits to the Mandalorian. "Get us some drinks with those winnings," Peli mumbled. "Two for her." She paused, her frown still glued onto her pasty complexion. "I like her."

The Mandalorian did as he was told. A couple of attendants patted him on the back for his good gamble, but the Mandalorian could hardly take credit for something he still didn't understand. It was one of those rare moments where he felt like he also needed a drink.

"It's been a while since I've played Sabacc," Rowan chuckled. "I got myself into a mess of things back in Mos Espa - lost some chances to earn extra cash on the side."

"Cheating?"

Rowan shook her head. "You don't need to cheat in Mos Espa. They're all too dumb to make any sense of a clever move. You've just got to be smarter than the rest of them, which isn't that hard." Peli nodded, a smile crossing over her face. "You put up a good game. And you can keep your credits. I'll work for you again tomorrow and I'll take forty percent of that. Let's call it even." Rowan glanced back at the Mandalorian, who was already engaged in conversation with a Devaronian. The sight of him gave her an idea. "There is something else you could offer instead."

Peli hissed. "No free repairs."

"It's not that. You and Mando seem to have a longer history than. There are times I think he's a genuinely good guy, but there are other times where I wonder if he's going to mount my head on a spike."

"Pretty big transition there."

"I grew up on Mos Espa."

Peli smirked. "Trust issues?"

Rowan released the sigh she'd been holding. "How do you know where to start?"

"Look; I'm a local girl. Never even been off-planet-"

Rowan interrupted to learn in. "I was the same."

Peli jerked her thumb towards the Mandalorian. "Until this hunk of metal came in?" Rowan nodded. "I'm a bit surprised your first time off-planet was with a Mandalorian. He must have really been impressed with you." She raised her brows mockingly, but Rowan chose not to respond to the suggestive comment.

"You can't believe how beautiful water is," Rowan sighed dreamily. "To imagine that there are entire planets of it makes me almost sick with excitement."

"Sounds pretty miserable to me," Peli snorted. Rowan could see right through her - they both grew up surrounded by mountains of sand. The thought of water was an undoubtedly transfixing idea to any local of Tatooine. "So, you're wondering if I trust the guy? I don't naturally trust anyone because I'm not so trustworthy myself. To be honest, you're lucky I didn't cheat you during that came of Sabacc and it's only because I used my cheat card earlier and dropped it on the floor to keep that freak's twelve eyes off it."

"I'd be annoyed if I wasn't so shocked by your honesty."

"You'll get used to it," Peli continued. "When that Mando first came him, he gave me the jitters. He was a bit rough around the edges… and then his kid came out of the ship and woah." She shook her head in disbelief. "The walking target was like a new man. A protective daddy, for lack of better words." Peli flapped a hand as she took a long sip of her drink. "But being his partner, you already know all about the kid."

Rowan bit her lip to stop a stream of honesty from coming out.

"As for Mando… well, he was starting to grow on me the longer he hung around. He never turned down a call for help. Sometimes he'd even do it without money." Peli rolled her eyes as if that were a ludicrous idea. "There was this Marshall named Cobb Vance in a small mining town. They had a big Krayt Dragon problem."

"He mentioned it before," Rowan muttered.

Peli nodded. "Well, he slayed that dragon single-handedly. In the mouth. He went inside of it. All that shiny beskar was covered in the guts of an ancient creature." Rowan glanced at the Mandalorian, who was casually in conversation with what looked to be a local merchant. "The kicker is that he carried a giant chunk of meat back just for me. Huge." Peli outstretched her arms as wide as they could go. "Carried it all on his back, along with his equipment and the baby."

"What about a speeder?"

"Got tripped by a gang of local bandits. The bike blew up."

Rowan sat back in her chair. "He walked across the entire desert with it? Just for you?"

Peli smirked. "I thought that Mando might have had some feelings for me, but now I can see otherwise. Even if he did, he's not my type." She patted her curls carelessly. "Too broad."

"What do you mean?"

"Don't be stupid like those Mos Espa friends of yours."

Rowan immediately understood. "No, no," she chuckled nervously. "It's not like that. We're just partners."

"That doesn't mean I can't feel his eyes burning into you from halfway across this cantina. I've dated Jawas; I know how to read hidden faces."

Rowan now had a million questions about Peli's love life, but with the threat of Din shortly returning to the table, decided to focus on the burning question at hand. "What would make you think he had feelings for me?"

Peli laughed abruptly, capturing the approaching bounty hunter's attention. He almost looked like he was going to abandon the conversation to spy on their gossip, but a desperate hand of the merchant kept him back. Rowan released an audible sigh, wanting nothing more than to keep the current conversation going.

"Look," Peli inched closer. "There's an easy way to cut guys like this off. You've just got to let it sink in slowly, take some time away, and if they run back asking why, you pull the whole 'It's not you, it's me' charade on them. They'll get the message without getting a message, know what I mean?"

Rowan's mouth was parted with unspoken words. She wasn't sure where to begin. Her entire chest felt hot, the blood pumping straight upwards and into her cheeks. Her shaky fingers swished the remaining alcohol of her glass to check how much was left, but there wasn't enough to blame her feelings on the booze. Golden eyes darted between her two companions before settling on the edge of the table.

"Well slap me twice and call me Bantha diddle," Peli gasped. "You're in love with him."

Rowan's body shot up in response. "Keep your voice down."

"Well are you or aren't you?" She practically screamed.

"No," Rowan hissed.

"Tell me everything," Peli whispered. "You know I live for this kind of thing."

"There's no thing," Rowan muttered. Her voice was beginning to sound frantic as her heart raced to jump from her ribs. "I mean… I don't know. From him… I don't know if there's a thing from his end. I-I just feel like I can see right through that visor and…" Rowan glanced back to the Mandalorian. "Druk, he's coming over here."

He wasn't. Rowan was merely in a state of delusion as the idea that she actually might be falling for her captor-turned-partner was real.

"Keep your ground, kid!" Peli snapped. "Listen, if I know anything, I know these feelings aren't healthy to bottle up. Even in beskar, that guy's softer than Bantha meat. He's a good guy."

Rowan relaxed, her breathing stretching into a laborious attempt to calm down. A million thoughts flooded her head.

Her parents training her in the late hours of the night.

Marius leaving at the age of nine.

Marius's return and their subsequent love affair.

The way he had kissed her.

The way he had left, more regularly after five years together, to see his people.

The way he had turned his back to her in bed.

The Mandalorian and his beskar in the snow.

The way his cool helmet touched her forehead.

His warm hand on her heart; the only thing that seemed to still it.

"Stars," Rowan breathed.

"Finally got it?"

If Rowan denied her feelings, she knew in her hear it would be a lie. If she confirmed them, everything would change. So she simply exchanged a look with Peli, hoping that the older woman would understand. In response, her voice turned serious.

"Sometimes, falling for someone doesn't make much sense. There's no rhyme or reason. You just fall into a rhythm and try and make some music out of it. For some people, they realize it after a couple of hours, while for others it takes years. But the truth is, for people like me, it doesn't happen much at all. And that's why you have to chase it when you feel something." Peli gave Rowan a gentle rub of the shoulder. "I know you feel scared, but what you're feeling is a gift. Even if you never tell Mando how you feel, the fact that you get to feel something at all is a wild ride. So enjoy it."

Rowan was just about to thank Peli for her words when they both felt a presence at the end of the table. It was the Mandalorian, his beskar practically glowing as the cantina lights grew a pinch lighter against the darkening night. Rowan could sense some hesitation in his squared shoulders, but was keenly aware this his eyes were solely on her.

"I can hear you both screaming from across the cantina," he said flatly.

Peli shooed him. "What's it to you? I can hear your clanky gunship from miles away."

Rowan said nothing. Her hands were clasped together in her lap as she tried to control the sweat pouring from her palms.

Din turned his gaze to her. "I got offered a job in town tomorrow." Rowan glanced up, but not for long. Was she ignoring him? His stomach flipped at the thought and flipped again when he realized Peli might have been speaking ill of him. "I was wondering if you'd come with me," he continued softly.

Peli cracked a grin. "Funny you should say that because Rowan was just telling me how she'd like some extra pocket money."

Rowan's brows rose further into the edge of the scarf. "I thought I was fixing your coils."

Peli smacked the table. "Don't worry about that, Mos Eisley needs you!"

"I thought you needed me."

Din turned back to Rowan. "If you'd rather stay at Peli's, I understand. You might feel unsafe."

Rowan understand what the Mandalorian was implying. The client might have had some spies lingering around the area still. Going out with him was dangerous, but for some reason, he was still asking her. Maybe he really did need her help.

"I'll split the day in half," Rowan agreed. "We can go out in the morning and I'll return in the afternoon to help Peli."

Din nodded slowly. "Good."

"Good," Rowan repeated.

An awkward silence passed between the three before Peli chimed in. "Good! Now sit down, Mando. I want to talk to you about getting a new ship."

The Mandalorian did as he was told, handing the women their drinks as he sat down. Rowan stared at the rim of the glass as the duo talked business. Her head was ringing with a never-ending hum that blended seamlessly with cantina jazz, muffled chatter, and clanking of drinks. The only way to truly escape was at the bottom of her glass, which she did in one entire gulp. Both Peli and the Mandalorian noticed her abrupt decision to binge.

"You okay?" Peli guffawed. "Haven't seen anyone drink a bitter that fast since they got their store knocked out on Boonta's Eve." Peli scrunched her nose. "Ah, wait. That was only two weeks ago."

"I'm feeling tired," Rowan confessed. "I'll head back to the hangar first."

"Sure, sure," Peli said. She understood the deeper meaning.

My head is about to explode with the sudden realization that I may be falling in love with a Mandalorian who never removes his helmet nor shows his affections or can even tell me his name.

Or something along those lines.

"There's a cot in the storage room next to the fuel canisters," Peli called after her.

Rowan nodded in appreciation, any words left stuck in her throat. As she stood up to leave, the Mandalorian followed her lead. "Let me walk you back," he mumbled.

"It's okay," Rowan sighed. "You stay here with Peli."

"But it's not-"

"I'll be okay," Rowan attempted a small smile. "Don't worry about me."

"But I do."

Peli was living for their tension, eyes bouncing between the pair as she took a long sip of her drink. Unsure of what to say, Rowan offered another tight-lipped smile. "You can check on me when you get back. How's that?"

When Din finally agreed, Rowan made her way out of the cantina. Knowing that their eyes were locked on her back, she tried her best to act casually. All she wanted to do was dart out of the cantina in a full sprint, bury her face in a pillow, and scream. It reminded her of how she had felt as a teenager. When she had a crush.

She hated every second of it.

Thankfully, Rowan had made it back to Peli's repair shop without any wondering eyes or greedy hands to dig through her pockets. The droids welcomed her with friendly beeping, but she waved them off with a hand of disgust. As she made her own attempts to find the makeshift bedroom Peli had mentioned, she felt herself fall face-first into the sand. Sitting up to see what had caused the stumble, the last thing she had expected was a BD unit.

"Haven't seen one of you since I was a kid." The droid wiggled around her, obviously wanting to try and help. "I'm fine, just… stay away from me."

The droid ducked lower at her words, releasing a small groan of sadness. Something about it made Rowan's heart sink - the first time a droid had ever gotten a response out of her.

Blame it on the emotional turmoil.

Sealing the door behind her, Rowan flung herself onto the grease-stained cot. Upon burying her face in a pillow, Rowan was remiss to find that a scream never came out. Instead, the overwhelming darkness took all of her attention. Like the black hue of the Mandalorian's helmet. What lay behind it? An old face? A young face? A shy smile? A scar across an eye? And while she pondered on it, Rowan quickly realized that none of it mattered. What mattered was that she cared for him, and just what that would mean for tomorrow.