Hey everyone! Sorry for the lack of updates, I have had a bit of a crazy year (I think we all have). I was getting a lot of requests for one-shots post-Nevarro battle, and they don't go with my other story. I decided 'why not throw one on as an epilogue'.

Anyway, I hope you enjoy :)

PS to everyone asking (thank you for caring about my work)- yes, both of my stories are cross-posted on Ao3. I have some other fics on there for other fandoms as well, all because I'm a whole mess and their editing system is a bit easier than this one ;)

EPILOGUE

Zakia woke in an unfamiliar room.

It smelled of the ocean- salt and clean air. The breeze blew in through an open window, along with an ashy dawn light that snuck through hazy curtains. The bed she was in was far more luxurious than what she usually occupied. White sheets and a thick downy comforter were draped over her shoulders, and she was warm beneath the covers.

A sound behind her indicated her bedmate was awake, and Zakia rolled over. She remembered entering the inn the previous night, feet dragging after the battle on Nevarro. Zakia had secured the room while Mando unloaded the necessary items from the Crest- they were staying for as long as possible.

Still surprised as ever upon seeing his face, Zakia took a moment to appreciate Din's handsome features as he fought to remain in the clutches of sleep. His dark, almost black hair contrasted sharply with the white pillow where it laid in a wavy mess. Tan skin stretched the length of his bare shoulders and chest, wethered around his eyes and nose despite having eternal protection from the sun. His long nose was bruised, a deep cut running across the bridge. Other small bruises littered his face and neck, no doubt a result of explosive shrapnel after the E-Web battery explosion.

Zakia reached out with one finger to trace the side of his face, memorizing every inch of it as best as she could. While he remained helmet-less in private, she knew it would be back on as soon as they were out of bed. The helmet was sat carefully on the bedside table, and Zakia ignored the visor as it pointed in her direction. The only reason he had even consented to removing it was because the inn was over forty stories high, overlooking the ocean on some ritzy vacation planet. Their suite, upon Karga's insistence that they be paid in some way, was the penthouse. Apparently owned by a friend of the agent's, who was more than happy to disregard any abnormalities given a sufficient amount of money.

"That tickles." Din muttered as Zakia's fingers brushed through the hair falling over his forehead.

She squirmed across the massive bed to close the distance between them, smiling happily. "Sorry. I didn't mean to wake you."

Brown eyes fluttered open, framed by dark lashes that Zakia found herself incredibly jealous of. "It's alright. How are you feeling?"

Zakia shrugged. "I'm okay, just a couple bruises. You're the one I'm worried about."

As if her worry was cursed, Din winced and rolled his shoulders. The movement carried through his spine and head, and the Mandalorian groaned as cracks and pops reached her ears.

"Getting old?" Zakia teased.

Din pressed his face further into the pillow. "That too. My head's throbbing."

Zakia laid her palm flat against the side of his face, thumb brushing gently over his eyelids. "Do you want more bacta? Or, I think there's a medic downstairs we could visit."

The man beside her huffed a sigh, looking childishly at her. "I don't feel the need to move, in all honesty."

A small rustling at the foot of their bed tore Zakia away from her gentle ministrations. She lifted her head and looked down, smiling as green ears appeared on the white covers.

"The kid?"

"The kid." Zakia confirmed, stretching her arms down to pick him up.

The Child squealed in delight, wrestling with the covers until he was curled up between his two guardians. Din's mythosaur pendant was clenched in a tiny fist, and the Mandalorian reached a finger out to brush over it.

"Womp rat." He muttered, moving his finger to tap the baby's nose.

Zakia smiled fondly at the pair. "This vacation is well deserved."

On the beach, Din watched his family.

Considered the implications of he and Zakia's new arrangement regarding his helmet.

The planet was relatively quiet, but enough people milled about that Din was fixed in full armor. Most avoided him like the plague, afraid to approach a Mandalorian or related companions.

He didn't mind.

People never were his specialty. Hunting them, sure. But talking? Communicating? That was a new ballgame. A new facet of life he had to learn himself after becoming independent and functioning successfully outside the covert. Din thought he had mastered the art, but that went up into flames. He had made himself into a man of few words. Only the important things needed to be spoken on. Otherwise, there was no point. Small talk was irrelevant.

However, the transition into a family like was more than he bargained for.

Though it was far from a normal family life- they weren't going to have it easy by any means- they were still going to have to function as a whole. That meant more communication on his part and less glossing over the little things. The newest part of their relationship, namely, his face, created even more concerns for him. Perhaps he was overthinking then, but it was important to consider.

Din was no longer able to hide behind a mask. He had to face someone eye-to-eye. Something he hadn't done in years. Whether they realized it or not, he always did make eye contact, but it was often one-sided and unnoticed. But eyes were a great indicator of someone's feelings.

Now, his feelings.

Zakia never stopped to question how he felt after the battle. She checked on his well-being of course, but spared him the cautious, careful glances that Cara and Greef had given him after his name was revealed. She was intuitive like in that sense. Din had been drawn to that side of her for years; Zakia could spot someone's discomfort from a mile away, and knew when to leave it be and when to approach. Din had been unsure of his own feelings, so she refrained from asking about it and adding weight onto his already mounting thoughts.

As if making an appearance to remind him, a bolt of pain shot from the base of Din's neck. It throbbed over his left eyebrow and forced him to squeeze it shut. With the helmet as a stark reminder to keep his cool, he only tilted his head down, resting it against the back of his glove.

"Doing alright?"

When he lifted his head once again, Zakia stood before him. Dressed in loose canvas shorts that stopped mid thigh and a loose white button-down, she was a vision of the sea. Her top was splattered from carrying the Child into the waves, and said baby was currently reaching tiny arms out in the Mandalorian's direction.

"My head." Din replied, "I put a bacta patch on before we came out. Just sore."

He took the Child from Zakia, boots shifting in the fine sand of the beach. The blonde followed with the boy, allowing herself to be tugged into the Mandalorian's arms.

"Sounds like a concussion if I've ever heard it." Zakia murmured against his cuirass.

Dinn hummed his affirmation, tipping his helmet back as the Child wiped a drool-covered hand on it. Even so, he couldn't find it in his to chastise the tiny being. Babbling and drooling, the Child smiled all the way. He was delighted to be with both of his people in a place where so little threatened them.

"He's happy." Din commented, bumping his hip gently into Zakia's side. Her eyes had fallen closed, and blinked open at his movement.

"Very. I think he wants to stay a while."

'Stay a while' didn't often end well with this odd trio, but this time it felt different. Din imagined the feeling was right, and couldn't be bothered to fight it in his current state. Casting a glance to make sure they were still secluded on the sandy beach, Din leaned into Zakia's grip.

"Ready for a nap?" She teased.

Din paused, and cocked his helmet to look at her. "You better start walking then."

For the first time in thirty years, Din Djarin was finally relaxed.