Dank Farrik Drabble #38
Apologies for not writing a drabble in so long, I got caught up in fic writing! I might be tempted to write about Kenobi next, but for this week here’s a Book of Boba Fett/Mandalorian inspired one, using the prompts Deal/Amused.
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“Come back here!”
“No,” giggled Grogu, once again successfully evading capture and making for the vent shaft. He’d discovered the previous day that he could fit inside perfectly, and that it allowed him to run around undetected all throughout the palace.
“You’re gonna be covered in dirt again!” Boba lamented, as he’d just washed the kid.
“Forget it,” sighed Fennec, more pragmatic. “He’ll show up again when he’s hungry, which shouldn’t be long now, he hasn’t eaten for all of two hours.”
Boba slid down against the stone wall with a long exhale, his back protesting fiercely – he was getting too old for this.
“Why did we agree to this again?” he wondered, as Fennec copied his movement, sitting more gracefully on the floor until their knees touched.
“Djarin asked,” she shrugged.
“And it did sound important, otherwise he wouldn’t have requested to use the suite for a couple of days.”
“What do you think he’s actually doing in there?” Fennec asked.
“I don’t know, that’s his business. It sounded like official Mand’alor stuff so I’m assuming he’s receiving delegates or some such. I gave him access to the landing port and I didn’t have time to check if anyone else had arrived.”
He’d been too busy making sure his son was kept entertained yet didn’t find some creative ways to harm himself – two tasks that strangely seem to come hand in hand with the boy. Why did it all have to be so damn exhausting? He was used to hard labor, sleep deprivation and stress, but this was something else.
“He said he was leaving in the morning, right?” he made sure.
“I think he has a hot date in there,” Fennec replied, completely missing his point.
“A hot date? Are you sure we’re talking about the same guy?” Boba scoffed. “You were there when he asked us to look after Grogu while he conducted ‘important business’, and it certainly didn’t sound like he would be entertaining that kind of guests.”
“How can you be sure?” she pushed, clearly amused.
“Let’s go find his son,” he grumbled, refusing to answer. His knees creaked from the effort as he stood up. Fennec shook her head but did the same.
Half an hour later, they still hadn’t been able to locate him. Boba had even sent a probe droid after him in the vent shaft, to no avail.
“Looks like we’re gonna be able to test your theory,” he said, doing another sweep of the kitchen, as it was one of the child’s favorite room in the palace.
“Do you really think it’s a good idea to inform the ruler of Mandalore that we lost his son?” Fennec pointed out unhelpfully.
“Do you have a better idea?”
And so they made their way to the very top of the palace and the luxury suite. They walked to the door silently, trying to listen to what was happening inside in case they were interrupting something important, but no sound reached them. It was eerily quiet.
Boba knocked – no answer came. He did it a second time, then Fennec grew bored and opened the door.
The blinds had been drawn, making it hard to see inside. When their eyes got used to the darkness, they realized there were no important foreign dignitaries or hot dates in the vicinity. They found the fearsome warrior lying diagonally on the huge bed, arms extended, deeply asleep. From the discarded kitchen trays and undisturbed furniture, they easily deduced that the Mandalorian had only been sleeping and eating for two days. And after spending a little time with his son, they understood why he had felt the need to resort to such a devious scheme.
“Maybe we should offer to watch his kid more often,” Boba whispered with a small smile, and Fennec nodded.
Said kid had made his way home, and was curled up against his father’s side, sleeping peacefully. But the peace would be short-lived for Djarin…
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I like how like... with every new piece of Star Wars media that paints Tatooine as more and more of a shithole where everyone is a murderous crimelord the funnier it gets that Luke Skywalker just grew up on this planet completely normal.
Like I’m envisioning a normal day at Tosche Station where a cyborg biker and a Twi'lek prostitute are stabbing each other over a bag of spice and then it just pans over to this fresh-faced nancy boy sitting at a table sipping on his blue milk going “oh golly, I sure do love power converters!”
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