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Before you, Din never knew what it was to know someone. He was raised among his fellow Mandalorians, and they are bound by a creed, but there was never any deep sense of knowing there. He has allies, a couple of people he’d call friends, even, but he’d never trust any of them with the most intimate parts of himself. No, until you came, Din’s life was one of secrecy, a life lived behind walls that protected him from pain and manipulation.
Even in his prior “relationships,” Din never let anyone see the real him. If he fucked someone, it was helmet on, clothes on, armor on— he wouldn’t even take off his gloves. Emotional closeness was an almost foreign concept, to him and to the women he picked up. They were often like him, cagey and defensive, and the vulnerability just… wasn’t there. They could be in the middle of having sex, and it would still feel like they were keeping each other at an arms-length, not talking, not holding each other, just fucking until they both came or got tired of being together that way. After all this time with you, Din can’t fathom ever living like that again— he honestly can’t believe he ever lived like that at all. Yes, everything is different with you, absolutely everything. Sex, affection, the tasks of daily life— you fill each bit of his day with color and love, and Din can only pray that he has even a quarter of that effect on you.
He’s awful with words, always has been and always will be, and so Din has to find other ways to express just how grateful he is for your time, for your patience, for you. There’s just not enough he can do, though, not enough gestures and acts of worship that he could lavish on you to encompass the depth of his feelings. And that’s what it is to know you and be known by you, really— an act of worship. You are a goddess, and Din is just a lowly mortal bestowing his offerings upon you in the hopes that he will be able to earn and retain your favor.
The first time such an image appeared in Din’s mind, you were stripping yourself bare before him. Or, rather, he was stripping you bare, forcing himself not to rush as the both of you inched closer and closer to having sex for the first time. You were so beautiful then, perched on the edge of his bunk as he knelt before you, a disciple of your body. Din’s every move was gentle and deliberate, every touch of his skin against yours a prayer. This supplication pleased you, it would seem, and so you laid yourself down and allowed him to venerate you properly, giving so much when you did not have to. That very first time was the closest thing Din’s ever had to a religious experience, and he’s been chasing the high ever since.
If you really were a goddess, revered and worshipped, Din think some would call him a zealot. He studies you and your powers fervently, always trying to please you, always offering his whole being as a sacrifice each time the two of you are together. You know his name, you know of his childhood and what happened to his parents… You’re the first person that’s touched him in years, really touched him, and you know what his hair and scars feel like underneath your hands. You allow Din, a lowly bounty hunter with little to offer, your whole body, and you do it freely and wantonly, like you can’t get enough of him. He thinks that’s the best part of all of this— he worships you, and you worship him right back, chanting his name like a prayer, keening in ecstasy for him when he touches just the right place. To elicit these responses in you is to be blessed with your favor, Din thinks, and the warmth of your love makes him feel euphoria unlike anything he’s ever experienced.
Like any goddess, you deserve so much more than your mortal devotees can give you, though he tries his best. Din wants to give you more, he wants to carve out a temple for you, a place where he can worship you in safety and peace, a place where you can rest and be at ease. The Crest is nice, but… but he’s begun to yearn for more. Din sees what it does to you, all of the traveling and the running, how tired it makes you. You could be more comfortable in a stable place, and so could the baby, and more and more often does he find himself thinking of where he would settle if he could. If he wanted to.
Maybe one day, he thinks, but he knows that “one day” is coming soon. Din’s making the plans, he’s saving the money, and most importantly, he’s working up the nerve. If you are a goddess, and he is your worshiper, then he is ready to take the plunge and devote his life to you. All he has to do is ask if you’ll have him, but he has to find the right words first, and that may take some time. For now, though, Din is content to continue simply knowing you, content to bask in the glory of your favor as he goes about his day. And you, the gracious, beautiful, wonderful goddess that you are, seem to be fine with just knowing him too, for you never complain or push for more.
You know him, and he knows you, and the both of you know the baby— what more could Din want?