chasingkerouac | fic: a fair bet (the mandalorian)

Fandom: The Mandalorian

Words: 1.2k

Characters: Din Djarin, Cobb Vanth, Grogu

Additional Tags: Fluff, Family, County Fair

Summary: “What’s the point of this again?” Din asked, shifting out of the way of a gaggle of children running by him.

“A fair?” Cobb asked. “Fun, darlin’. The entire point is fun.

“What’s the point of this again?” Din asked, shifting out of the way of a gaggle of children running by him. Cobb had insisted on coming out to Mos Espa, but wouldn’t tell him why. He figured there was a speeder part, or a package delivery, or something that Cobb or the people of Mos Pelgo needed taken care of right away.

What he didn’t expect was a street full of hastily erected booths of games, loud noises and flashing lights, and rides that looked dangerous even to him.

“A fair?” Cobb asked. “Fun, darlin’. The entire point is fun. Plus, it’s how we celebrate the rainy season on Tatooine.”

“There’s a rainy season?”

Cobb stopped, sighed, and turned to fix Din with a look. “The Mos Espa Rain Festival is a time honored tradition that combines fun, family, and desperately hoping for some sort of increase in moisture in the air. But the emphasis is on the fun and the family. Mostly due to those parts being the only real things you can control out of the three.” He reached over to poke Grogu in the nose as the kid nestled happily in Din’s crossbody bag. “Isn’t that right, kiddo? You’re having family fun time even though your dad is acting like a grumpy puss.” Grogu burbled happily before reaching his arms up towards Cobb. “Yes, come here you lil womp rat, you can see so much more when you’re not half covered by someone’s dramatic cape.”

“It keeps the sun off him,” Din sighed.

Cobb settled Grogu on his shoulders, keeping hands on each of his little feet to hold him in place as the kid settled and draped himself over Cobb’s head. “If he complains, we’ll put him back in the bag. Kids want to see what’s going on. Isn’t that right?”

Grogu blew a raspberry and clawed at Cobb’s hair.

“See?” Cobb beamed. “Besides, you need your hands free to win us a prize.”

“A prize?”

The helmet may hide his face, but Cobb could clearly picture the exasperated look Din was giving them. “You can’t come to a fair and not win us a prize. A mighty Mandalorian like yourself couldn’t possibly be challenged by a few cheap fair games, but you might as well show off your skills once or twice. Look, over there - a blaster target game. Child’s play.”

Din sighed again, but turned and made his way towards the game Cobb indicated. He paid his credit and lifted the fake blaster to take aim at the paper target at the end of the gallery. It fired a weak sonic pulse instead of a traditional bolt, but even so - there wasn’t a gun Din couldn’t master in three shots.

The paper didn’t even flutter.

Din swore softly, paid another credit, and lifted the fair weapon once more. He was aiming correctly, the distance was set. Sure, maybe using the telemetry settings in his helmet was technically cheating, but it wasn’t like he could turn them off for a silly game.

Ok, it wasn’t like he would turn them off.

Three shots fired. Paper fluttered, clipped on the side, but no direct hit.

“Dank ferrik,” he swore, slamming down the gun and stalking back to Cobb and Grogu. “The damn thing’s rigged. I know it was lined up.”

Cobb shrugged, and Grogu mimicked the movement. “Of course it’s rigged, how else do you think they’re making money off of a game where most of the folks walking around have been shootin’ sand critters since they were the size of the sprout? You just gotta figure out how to beat the rigging.”

“I’m not wasting any more credits on fake blasters. If they want to give me a toy for shooting something, I’m happy to show them what a real blaster can do.”

“Really? You’re not going to win either of us a toy?”

Grogu burbled in agreement.

“You want one,” Din growled, “win it yourself.”

“Alright. Kiddo, are we gonna go win a toy ourselves?” Grogu squeaked and clapped his hands. “Ok, sounds perfect. How about…” He turned and pointed to a game further down the lane. “We can throw balls at a stack of cans. Let’s go win your Dad a bantha.”

The game looked simple enough - a stack of three cans, and a credit gets you a ball and a single throw. Knock all three down and win a prize. In this case, a furry bantha almost half the size of Grogu. Din figured they were reinforced to the pedestal, or glued together, or a hologram that couldn’t be picked up by his display. “You gonna get it in one?”

“I’m the Marshal of Mos Pelgo,” Cobb beamed, tossing the ball back and forth between his hands. “My aim is impeccable.” He turned so both he and Grogu were looking straight at Din. “You want to make a little wager on it?”

“What wager?”

“If all the cans are knocked over this first time, we stay all day, and you’re not allowed to complain.”

“And if you miss?”

“If they stay up, we’ll pack up and head back to Mos Pelgo and I will polish every latch, strap, and surface of your armor while you take a nap.”

Din tilted his head. “I like my odds.”

“Then away we go.” Cobb turned and pulled the ball up to his chest. “You heard him, kiddo. All the cans have to go down and we get to stay at the fair all day. You think that’s gonna happen?”

“Bweh,” Grogu said, leaning further across the top of Cobb’s head and unclenching his claws from Cobb’s hair.

“Yup, me too. Here we go, on three. One, two…three!”

Cobb threw the ball, and laughed as it curved ever so slightly - cracking the bottom of the pile and taking all the cans down with it. “Would you look at that!”

“Yes, would you look at that,” Din murmured.

“Congratulations,” the man behind the counter said as he unlatched one of the bantha toys and offered it up to Grogu. “Looks like you get a prize, little guy.”

Grogu burbled happily, and clutched the toy against his face.

“A bet’s a bet, partner,” Cobb said, giving Din a pat on the pauldron. “You thinkin’ about something to eat, maybe a ride… want to embarrass yourself on another game?”

“You cheated,” Din murmured as they walked away from the game.

“I did no such thing, darlin’.”

“I saw someone lift a hand from where he was holding on to your hair.” Din glanced up at Grogu, who smiled a big, toothy grin before taking a bite of the stuffed bantha’s squishy horn. “You had Grogu curve the ball, or knock down the cans.”

Cobb shrugged, gently so as not to dislodge the kid from his shoulders. “Our bet was if the cans went down, not that I put them down all by my lonesome.”

“I got hustled.”

“Everything’s rigged on Tatooine, you said so yourself.” Cobb winked at him and grabbed Din’s hand in his. “C’mon. There’s a few other things I’d like to bet on if you’re settled into your losing streak.”