#caradin royalty au

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With Mandalore reclaimed, Din and his partner Cara lead their people and their own clan into a new age of peace and prosperity.

CaraDin Royalty AU Aesthetic, requested by @jennadknowsbest-blog

CaraDin Moodboards 2/?

[littlemissmarshal]

--;☆ 𝐸𝓋𝑒𝓇𝓎 𝓉𝒾𝓂𝑒 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝒸𝑜𝓂𝑒 𝒶𝓇𝑜𝓊𝓃𝒹 𝒴𝑜𝓊 𝓀𝓃𝑜𝓌 𝐼 𝒸𝒶𝓃'𝓉 𝓈𝒶𝓎 𝓃𝑜 𝐸𝓋𝑒𝓇𝓎 𝓉𝒾𝓂𝑒 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝓈𝓊𝓃 𝑔𝑜𝑒𝓈 𝒹𝑜𝓌𝓃 𝐼 𝓁𝑒𝓉 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝓉𝒶𝓀𝑒 𝒸𝑜𝓃𝓉𝓇𝑜𝓁 𝐼 𝒸𝒶𝓃 𝒻𝑒𝑒𝓁 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝓅𝒶𝓇𝒶𝒹𝒾𝓈𝑒 𝐵𝑒𝒻𝑜𝓇𝑒 𝓂𝓎 𝓌𝑜𝓇𝓁𝒹 𝒾𝓂𝓅𝓁𝑜𝒹𝑒𝓈 𝒜𝓃𝒹 𝓉𝑜𝓃𝒾𝑔𝒽𝓉 𝒽𝒶𝒹 𝓈𝑜𝓂𝑒𝓉𝒽𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝓌𝑜𝓃𝒹𝑒𝓇𝒻𝓊𝓁…

This spicy little number was started way back in Spring of 2021 and finished late November of 2022. This drawing was inspired by Mia_Zelko's AO3 story called Death is a Girl (And She's Only One Dance Away) . Please Do not take my art and repost it. A reblog is preferred. Thank you! Give this a like if you want to see the finished piece ♡

[redheadedteatotaler]

4.8.21

A little news, a little fan art, and fan fic, and a couple of pieces to make you giggle. Also, our MOTD is another blast from the past.

Onto your daily dose of Conviction...

So there's a rumor going round that there are talks of bringing Gina back to Star Wars, and Force of Light Entertainment takes a look at it, and breaks it all down...

Keep in mind this is based off something said by Mike Zeroh.

We have a new CaraDin writer among us!

An Unwanted Match - KTarra

CaraDin

Arranged Marriage

Enemies to Lovers

Royalty AU

Check out this adorable piece by @drowsydoodlerart (who I hope is okay with this....I scoured her blog and didn't see anything that said not to...but if it is a no, I apologize and will stop from this point on)

Another from Cassic Concepts....this one goes behind the scenes of Daughter of the Wolf...

And finally, I leave you with a couple of images to hopefully put a smile on your face...

Til Our Paths Cross...

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Posted some details on Insta so I thought I'd repost here because I had SO much fun working in those little details. Also I forgot to mention the double ring in the second picture is based on her dropper tattoo, possibly a gift from New Alderaan or from Din. The others were designed to echo the neckpiece, but now that I think about it maybe they're recovered pieces from Alderaan that Din got for her for that odd occasion where she needs to be fancy.

The piece is majority beskar but some pieces would have to be a material that looks the same but is flexible, to allow movement. I was heavily inspired by Priyanka Chopra's 2018 Met Gala dress with the hooded and jeweled head/neckpiece contrasted with a simpler dress (though I picture Cara's as midnight blue velvet). The hairpiece was inspired a bit by some of Satine's and some traditional Asian hairstyles. I almost added a cape but I wanted the neck and shoulder piece to be the big statement, both fashion wise and in-universe: like I said in the other post, Cara is showing that Mandalore no longer has to focus solely on war, they are so prosperous that their armorers have time for luxury and art now - but it's still a reminder of beskar's main purpose and that it can be turned back into armor if needed.

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Wedding Gifts

After a moment Cara stepped out, just as beautiful in a simple robe as she’d been in her wedding gown yesterday. She carried a long narrow box in her hands.  “Good morning, sleepyhead.”

“Good morning.  What’s this?” Din asked, nodding at the box.

She smiled broadly.  “Your wedding present.”

Read on AO3

Thanks @velvetblackness for giving me the nudge to get back to writing these two. :)

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Mandalore may not be part of the New Republic, but sometimes Diplomatic Stuff must be done, and when it's Cara's turn, she's going to do it well. After all, what better way to show that Mandalore is thriving by showing off a custom beskar piece from one of their artisans (which includes references to her own tattoo and her husband's armor if you look close) over a dress decorated with beskar chips? See, we're doing so well that our sacred beskar can be used for mere decoration on our queen. (Cara's just glad she can still look up to see the kids' jetpack practice before she goes.)

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Inktober 22: The other half of @glamorousgamine's request, the trials of puberty with the Caradin Royalty AU kiddos.

(Grogu has already cornered the offender in a dark alley)

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Inktober: The trials and tribulations of when each princess in the Royalty AU went through puberty

Inktober 14: The result of a 45-minute conversation where Din tried to figure out why Alanne was suddenly so hellbent on refusing to show her face and wanting to swear the Creed

Brizsa coming soon!

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Inktober #13: Can't stop drawing characters who don't wear dresses in pretty dresses lol.

Jokes aside, I do wonder how Cara feels about efforts to rebuild Alderaan. We get hints that Canon!Cara is still grieving and suffering from the trauma of losing her home and loved ones, and seems to be motivated more by avenging Alderaan on any Imperials in range rather than rebuilding a home for her people. A Cara who is Queen of Mandalore, though, would have the opportunity to be a big influence in helping her people, and would likely be more emotionally secure with support from a loving husband (who also lost his own people in the attack on Aq Vetina and Mandalore and can uniquely understand how she feels) and possibly they have their own children she wants to make a future for, and make sure they know about their heritage.

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Inktober 7 & 8: Brizsa and Alanne Dune-Djarin, as young adults.

Brizsa loves more alternative styles and even makes some of her own jewelry. ("Moooom that armband totally wasn't inspired by you" she insists.) She likes stuff that fits the club and cantina and street and still allows her to move while still looking cool. ("Folding down your boots is totally in style." "That's stupid." "You don't even wear boots, Grogu!")

Alanne, meanwhile, prefers practical clothes and that classic Star Wars spacer-with-a-bit-of-Western look with Mandalorian flair. Her culture and heritage are deeply important to her and she's never without her clan's signet and the necklace her father gave her at least. She also remembers a comm wherever she goes ("unlike my SIBLINGS") and overall cares more about being able to move and fight in what she wears rather than how it looks.

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Daughter of the Mudhorn

Alanne tried to wipe her eyes but her hands were just far enough away, cuffed and magnetized to the wall of her tiny cell.  She sniffled and then swallowed, trying not to make a sound.  They would come in and hit her again, hard, and had taken her armor pieces so she had no protection.  There was already dried blood itching at her temple and wetter stuff still dripping from her nose, which hurt with every twitch.

They were quiet now in the other room.  She tried to listen.  She had heard them already, talking about the New Alderaan Consulate and the Mand’alor and ransom money and asking for beskar.  She tried not to cry but tears dripped down as she thought of her beautiful beskar shoulder plate with the mudhorn signet on it, pure shining silver just like her father’s armor and newly forged to fit her growing shoulder now that she was almost eleven.  She had promised the Armorer she would wear it with pride, and when her dad took off his helmet to see it again later he was beaming and told her she was truly Mando’ad.  But she’d just gone into the Hosnian Prime market to look around and get a snack while her mother met with some New Alderaan officials and she’d been disarmed, captured, and her armor taken.  It was a durasteel light set, more form than function, but how could she ever earn a real set of armor if she had already been disgraced like this?

A loud bang and she jumped, her aching nose and her bruised wrists hurting under the sudden movement.  She didn’t know who had taken her, but she knew enough about the underworld.  There were the Hutts, and the Exchange, and the Pyke Syndicate, and more she had probably never heard of, and she was a princess of Mandalore.  She was worth a lot of credits.  Whoever took her, they might have competition.  Not to mention that every pretty girl in the galaxy heard sooner or later how Hutts got their dancers.

Loud blaster fire roared in the next room and Alanne hid her face in her arms, crying.  Crying like a coward, a daughter of Mandalore afraid of blaster fire!  Her mom and dad would never cry, they would fight.  But how could she fight?  She wasn’t as strong as them and she didn't even have any weapons or armor.  She couldn’t even get herself uncuffed from the wall, thought her wrists were mottled with bruises from trying.

She tried to cover her ears with her arms, trying to block out the sounds of fighting in the next room and failing.  She just wanted to go home.  She wanted her mom and dad, her own room, even her annoying siblings.  She just wanted to go home.

“WHERE IS MY DAUGHTER?!”

Alanne’s head popped up.  Was it - was it really -?

The door was forced open, and her mother was there.

“MOM!” Alanne cried out, trying to get up and falling back against the wall.

“Alanne!”  Cara rushed forward, disengaging the cuffs and breaking them off at their weak point.

She should have thought of that.  Alanne didn’t say it as her mother held her tight.  “Mom - Mom -”

“Are you hurt?  Did they hurt you?” Cara asked, tilting Alanne’s head back to inspect her.  “Your nose looks broken, oh my poor girl -”

Alanne couldn’t stop the tears pouring out of her eyes.  She tried to speak but all she could say was, “Mom…”

Cara held her close and tight.  “I’m here, baby girl.  You’re safe.”

Alanne gave up and sobbed into her shoulder.  “M-mom… they g-grabbed me in the m-market…”

Cara rocked her gently, like she was a baby again.  “Someone saw.  They recognized your armor and called the Mandalorian embassy.  They told me right away.”

Her armor, her beautiful new armor.  “Th-they took m-my armor…”

“We’ll find it, don’t worry.  You’re safe now.  We need to call your father and tell him you’re safe, and get you to a medical droid.”

Her father!  What would he think?  “My new b-beskar p-pauldron…”

“If it’s not still here, the Armorer can forge you a new one,” Cara said, kissing her head.  “Come on, sweetie.”

“B-but…”  She started crying harder, unable to stop.  “B-but I l-lost beskar.  D-dad will be… he’ll think…”

Cara’s brow furrowed.  “He’ll think what?  He’ll be happy you’re safe, Alanne.”

“I lost my first piece of real armor.  I lost beskar.  I’m not worthy.  I’m not… I’m not a real Mando’ad,” Alanne said, the words pouring out in a rush.

Cara stilled, and for a moment Alanne thought her mother would be angry at her.  Cara cupped her cheek gently.  “No, Alanne.  Don’t ever think that.”

“But I lost my beskar!  It was taken away from me by someone who was a victor in combat!”

“You are ten.  You’re still in training.  At ten I couldn’t take on all six of those people over there.  I did now because of my years of training and practice.”

“I’m almost old enough to swear the Creed!”

“Swearing the Creed at thirteen is the old way that you may or may not choose to follow.  And even when your father swore it at thirteen, he was still training.  He went on missions with a mentor, not by himself.  Being a Mandalorian warrior, or any kind of fighter, takes years of discipline and training.  Think of your brother, he’s over seventy and just now starting with a training saber after years working on other Jedi skills.”

Alanne sniffled; now snot was draining out her nose like she was a baby and not a princess of Mandalore.  “I’m not… I failed.  I failed and I’m not a good Mandalorian.  I’m not a warrior.”

“You are a warrior.  You’re brave.  I know you tried to fight them, and then you tried to escape,” Cara said, gently brushing her fingers across Alanne’s broken nose and bruised wrists.  “You did the best you could with what you have, like any Mandalorian.”

“But you and Dad would’ve beat them… you never would’ve been caught.  You wouldn’t even be scared.  I’ll never… what if I am never a true Mandalorian warrior?”

“Look at me,” Cara said, and Alanne obeyed.  “I already told you that being a warrior like me or your father takes years of training.  But the other thing is, you are a member of Clan Djarin.  Do you remember the stories we told you?  About how we found and protected your brother?”

Alanne nodded; everyone on Mandalore knew about how Mand’alor the Reluctant had been a simple bounty hunter until he found a Jedi child, decided to protect him, and in the process won the Darksaber and became leader of their people.

“You know the part where we went back to Nevarro so Uncle Greef could help us keep Grogu safe from the Empire?  When we fought Moff Gideon the first time?  There were so many soldiers, dozens of them.  We fought every one until the Moff hurt your father with an explosion.  I carried him back inside but the building was starting to burn.  I couldn’t see a way out.  I was afraid we were going to die.”

Alanne blinked in surprise.  “You were afraid, Mom?”

“I was.  We were trapped, your father was hurt, there was fire all around us… and then what happened?”

She knew the story well since her brother liked this part a lot.  “Grogu saved you.  He made the firetrooper stop attacking you.”

Cara nodded.  “He saved us.  Even two fighters like me and your father, with all our years of training, would’ve been defeated without him.”  She cupped Alanne’s face.  “You are a Mandalorian, Alanne.  And you are also a member of Clan Djarin.  When one of us cannot stand, another protects them until they can again.”

Alanne nodded, sniffling again, but this time no more fresh tears came.  Cara wiped away the ones already on her cheek.  “Your father and I love you more than anything else in the galaxy.  Your brother and sister too.  We will always be there for you when you need us.”

Alanne hugged her mother again, but this time it truly made her feel safe and calm again.  Cara kissed her head.  “Can you walk, sweetheart?”

“Yes, Mom.”  Alanne stood, a little wobbly from the hours forced to sit down, but able to keep her feet.

“My speeder is outside.  Let’s get on and we can call your dad as we head to the medcenter, all right?”  Cara put an arm around her protectively as they walked out into the next room, where six bodies of various species were sprawled around the room, unmoving.

Alanne spotted a gleam and moved before her mother could stop her, grabbing a dirty bag.  Inside were all her armor pieces, and on top the beskar pauldron.

“See?  All good,” Cara said with a smile.  “I can carry it for you, if you need me to.”

“It’s okay, Mom,” Alanne said, hoisting it on her shoulder.  “I can carry this now.”

-

Also on AO3 | Part of the Caradin Royalty AU

I watched Daughter of the Wolf (free on YouTube if you're interested) and was filled with such a need for Mama Bear Cara it overcame my writer's block.

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whichever question you most want to answer for each of them: Alanne, Brizsa, Ika’ika

7. What triggers nostalgia for them, most often? Do they enjoy that feeling?

Alanne grew up in a reclaimed Mandalore, safe and happy without knowing the loss of culture or fear of genocide that her parents and Grogu experienced. To them, Mandalore was won with blood sweat and tears, a precious treasure to be protected and uplifted. But to her, it's just home. She doesn't have the baggage they do: Cara seeing the garden of lost Aldereaanian flora attempting to be regrown, Din seeing statues and art honoring former heroes, Grogu participating in a Jedi outreach program - to them, all of that is something that was hard-earned and could so easily be taken away again because they've experienced it. She sees it all with unfettered eyes; she's not unaware, but she didn't experience the loss like they did. She just sees beautiful flowers and pretty art and a cool place for her big brother to show off his skills. It makes her feel warm and happy and safe inside with no tinge of bittersweet feelings. She's the kid that always calls home or scrolls the HoloNet for updates on her favorite places when she's been away for too long.

26. What is their preferred mode of transportation?

Once Brizsa got a jetpack she was never going to put her feet on the ground or a train or anything else EVER AGAIN. It doesn't matter she was supposed to accompany Mom and Dad to a Senate hearing and look extra nice and presentable, JETPACK. Grogu has an upset stomach and needs a quick trip to a medic? JETPACK and don't you DARE throw up! Point A to Point B are less than fifty yards away? JETPACK. Mom and Dad grounded me? LOL, JETPACK. Finally got a proper suit for under the armor that seals and is safe for space? I'M GONNA JETPACK TO THE MOON, LEWZERS

3. How do they put themselves to bed at night (reading, singing, thinking?)

Ika'ika's most favorite way to go to sleep is nestled in a scarf at Dad's neck, soothed by the sounds and physical vibrations of Dad humming. (Din does not mind the tiny claws that leave the tiniest barest scratches all over his neck.) If that is not an option, a vibrating toy and the noise it makes in his crib will also help. He will also accept being curled up in Dad's palm or nestled in blankets (though Din is so afraid of him being smothered this only happens when Ika'ika can run away and find his own blanket nest).

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My son loves it when I sing “Bunny bunny hophopHOP!” while bouncing around on my toes like a maniac. I can’t help but imagine Din doing the same, whether in main continuity, 101 Yoditos, or the Royalty AU

Omg that's so cute. Din would probably get way more into it than people who see the stoic bounty hunter would ever guess. Hopping around the hold of the Razor Crest with Grogu following behind, making it a game of all the animals they've encountered. ("Charge like a mudhorn! Oh, you got me!") The 101 AU would expand this to an entire train of Yoditos after Din; the Babysitting Brigade shakes their heads in fond exasperation at first but gradually give in and join the train. Alanne, Brizsa, and Grogu love when Din helps them with their studies. It's easier to remember different animals when you flap your arms to fly, crawl, hop, or pretend to swim all over your rooms. (From experience, that's also a great game if you're stuck with indoor recess at a place with no adequate indoor gross motor space. Add in flippers = swim, legs = walk, and wings = fly and you also got a basic sorting game.)

Also not to get too sappy, even if he doesn't remember this specific memory, your son will remember how you played with him and gave him time. I remember my own parents doing that for me and it's so important. You sound like a great mom. :)

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Fanfic prompt: Daimyo Boba Fett teaching the royal Clan Djarin children how to take on imps while their parents are away for a diplomatic trip to Naboo.

It was Alanne who noticed the guy first, how he stood out a bit oddly from the usual crowd in Boba’s throne room during one of his open court days - keeping himself apart, being a bit twitchy, nervously picking a thread on his jacket.  Grogu reached out with the Force and confirmed he was feeling tense, but also had the mental discipline to keep his thoughts ordered.

“You dweebs,” Brizsa said.  “He has an EC-17 holdout blaster in his jacket.  Standard issue for Imps.  He’s obviously a dankin’ spy.”

“You can’t say dank.  You’re only nine,” Grogu reminded her.

“I can say what I want.  Mom and Dad aren’t here, they’re on Naboo eating honeyed moons.”

“They’re on a diplomatic trip, not eating sweets,” Alanne said.

“I heard Mom tell Dad they should get honeyed moon sweets.  It must be a Naboo sweet,” Brizsa insisted.

“Uncle Boba can find some sweets for us later.  We gotta tell him about the Imp first,” Grogu said.

-

“If Uncle Boba says it’s no big deal, maybe it isn’t,” said Alanne.  “He doesn’t like the Empire either.  Maybe it’s just a former Imp.”

“Grogu said he was hiding something,” Brizsa argued.  “Besides, Mom is right about the only good Imp being a dead Imp.”

“Are you suggesting we kill him ourselves?” Grogu asked dryly.

“We can’t let an Imp just run around.”

“We can’t just execute him without just cause either,” Alanne said.  “Besides, Uncle Boba is the ruler here and we can’t violate the laws of hospitality in his own palace.  If this is an Imp spy, we need proof.”

“I could break his kneecaps and make him talk,” said Brizsa.

“I’m gonna tell Dad you keep watching those bad Coruscanti crime holos,” Alanne sniffed.

“Stop arguing,” Grogu said.  “I can sneak through the ventilation shafts easily and get into his room if you two keep him distracted.”

-

“I can’t believe your plan didn’t work!” Alanne hissed as they ran through the hallways of Boba’s palace.

“Brizsa is the one who ruined it!” Grogu snapped from his perch on her back.

“I did not!  I swiped his secret comm!” Brizsa snapped back, holding it up.  “We have all the evidence we need!”

“Yeah, until he shoots us and takes it back!” Alanne said as they scrambled through an access corridor meant for droids.

“Wait!  I have an idea,” said Brizsa.  “Can you get him to the throne room?”

“The throne room?  We need to get Uncle Boba or Auntie Fennec!” Alanne hissed.

“Just do it!” Brizsa said, splitting down another corridor.

Alanne climbed an access ladder that would take her up several levels quickly, Grogu imbuing her with extra strength and speed with the Force.  But the Imp was an adult and right behind them.  A stun blast went whizzing by their heads.  “Dank farrik!” hissed Alanne.

“I’m telling Dad!”

“You better not!”

They had learned all the hidden passages that they were still small enough to fit through and in a few minutes they’d made it to the throne room.  Alanne ran to the throne and climbed on it.  “Isn’t there a secret emergency signal built in?”

“Auntie Fennec showed me,” insisted Grogu, crawling around the big throne.  “But -”

“Don’t tell me you forgot!”

“She gave me cookies before she showed me!”

The Imp appeared then, blaster drawn.  “Hands up, brats.”

Alanne obeyed, positioning herself in front of Grogu.  “When my father hears of this -”

“Your father?  I hope he’s got enough credits to pay the ransom the Empire’s gonna charge him when I bring you and your ugly green pet in,” snarled the Imp, stepping closer, right over the elaborate grate on the floor.  “For you, anyway.  He’s going to a lab.  Heard those places are pretty nasty.”

“Nastier than a rancor pit?” asked Brizsa, popping up behind the throne and pulling the concealed lever in its arm.

The Imp screamed as he fell down below.  The gears under the throne groaned as it slid forward, Brizsa scrambling to join her siblings in the seat.  “Great idea,” Alanne told her.

“I always have good ideas,” Brizsa said smugly.

The throne stopped and they peered down below.  The Imp was screaming, running in circles as the rancor strolled out, growling softly as he figured out who interrupted his sleep and starting to follow the Imp around, one huge clawed hand reaching out.

“Should we tell him the rancor likes playing chase?” Grogu asked.

“Nah,” said Alanne.  “Let him figure it out.”

-

“Of course I’d already had Fennec disable every weapon he had, and I had monitor droids tracking them the whole time,” Boba said.  “They were perfectly safe and even collected evidence with those pickpocketing skills you didn’t want me to teach them.  And they were so proud when they told me they’d trapped a spy in with the rancor.”

Din sighed.  “You know I had a very different experience with your pet.”

“He was upset that day.  He loves playing.  He had so much fun chasing that Imp.  The guy was crying when Fennec got him out.  He’s already packed up and on his way to Mandalore for trying to harm the royal heirs.”

Cara rolled her eyes.  “We can’t take one vacation.”

“Oh they’re fine.  And they can’t wait to tell you how they caught their very own Imp just like Mom and Dad.  I can tell they were really paying attention when I took them out on that hunt.”

“You sure you don’t need us?” Din asked.

Boba waved his hand.  “Finish your trip.  If they get bored we’ll visit the Sand People and practice diplomacy next.”

“Thanks for watching them, Boba,” Din said before ending the call.

Cara wrapped an arm around his.  “Already catching their first Imp.  They grow up so fast.”

Din kissed her cheek.  “I’m proud of them.  And wishing they still didn’t have to deal with that.”

“That recording of it though?  They were a team.  They fight like loth cats and akk dogs but when it came down to it, they pulled together and acted like a clan,” Cara said with a smile.  “They did good.”

“They did,” Din said, wrapping an arm around her.  “I’m glad they’re safe.”

“Me too.  And that we finished negotiations and can just enjoy a vacation,” Cara said, popping a sugared moon-sweet into his mouth.

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In the Royalty AU, what was it like when Grogu spoke for the first time?

Grogu has been used to being put first. He's been the apple of his dad's eye for years and now he's a prince of Mandalore. As one of the first foundlings adopted under Din's rule he's an important symbol of the Mandalorians rebuilding their home and culture and people, and of course he's the cutest thing on the entire planet. Most Mandalorians who see him wave and smile at bare minimum, and plenty coo and fawn over him on a regular basis. He has numerous found family aunts and uncles who adore and dote on him. Even Cara when she joined the clan paid tribute to him with cuddles and hugs and love. Finally he is being loved and cared for in a way that's very healthy for a kid his "age" (or rather, human maturity equivalent), especially one who went without love and care for a significant time.

A new baby completely disrupts that.

Din and Cara could never say they love Alanne or Grogu more; both are equally adoring of their beloved children. But Alanne is a little newborn with no routine and no self-care skills, so she usually gets first dibs on parental attention now, and Grogu has to wait. Wait?! He's never had to wait before! He could always walk up to Dad and Mom and show them the picture he just drew and be treated like he just made a masterpiece that should be hung in a museum. "Just a moment, Grogu," are words he is not used to hearing.

And he knows that Mom and Dad still love him. He knows Alanne is just a little baby and he's a big boy. He wants to be a big boy and a good big brother and wait and be patient and be a helper but it's hard. It's all new to him! And sometimes that scary, scary thought creeps in that maybe Mom and Dad don't mean all their nice words and they do like the new baby more after all. After all, it used to be that he barely had to coo and squeak to get their attention. Now Alanne makes all the same noises, and she's louder too. If they're watching her to support her head and see if she rolls over and all that, they're not looking at his hands for sign language. Sometimes they even look away in the middle of signing to check Alanne and he has to repeat. The audacity!

(Din and Cara are, of course, doing their very best to make sure Grogu feels as loved as always and give him all the attention they can. It's just that a new baby has disrupted their lives too, they're running on way less sleep than Grogu, and having Grogu has trained into them the idea that you shouldn't take your eyes off of your kid unless you want to find them getting into some Force-assisted shenanigans and it's a hard habit to break even if the newborn is, for now, immobile.)

It all comes to a head eventually. Grogu really is trying to be a good brother! But he stubbed his toe and it hurts, and he already lost his favorite ball under the bed where even he can't reach, and it's just been a hard day and he needs someone now but when he toddles over, Din is busy trying to settle Alanne down to sleep and tells him "Just a minute, buddy, let me get the baby to sleep." That's when all his frustration wells up and into his mouth and out pours a big "DAD!"

That gets Din's attention right away. He sets Alanne down and scoops Grogu up, wide-eyed. "What did you - is that - did you -"

All the frustration is replaced with a warm, happy feeling when Grogu sees his dad is so proud of him. "Dad!" he says again. He loves making his dad smile! Din is smiling so much, hugging him tight, telling him over and over again how proud he is.

It's a long road to go - no one knows Grogu's species so figuring out his mouth and tongue structure so a speech pathologist can start figuring out how to help him make sounds is a long journey and that's only the start. But Grogu was finally ready to find his voice, and once he did, he never wanted to let it go again.

Din and Cara are the proudest parents in the world. Even when Grogu starts cursing up a storm and they realize oops, he actually was listening and remembers every time we said dank farrik....

[ooops-i-arted]

Not one of the listed sentence starters but one of the adults walks in on the GAB trio having completely wrecked the room. “Who’s responsible for this?!” Each sibling points to the other two.

Din’s mind wanted to wander, but he made himself pay attention to the trade reports on his desk instead.  Brizsa was laid down for a nap, Alanne and Grogu were having a tea party in their playroom, and if he concentrated he could hopefully get all of these done before Cara came home from New Alderaan and they could have a quiet evening together.

Speaking of quiet…

Din realized he couldn’t hear Alanne and Grogu talking anymore.  Or much of anything.  It was quiet.  Way too quiet.

He got up immediately, poking his head into Brizsa’s room to check on the two-year-old.  Her bed was empty.  And Brizsa was never quiet.  He rushed to the playroom, shoving the door open, and stopped short.

A rainbow of colors was all over the walls.  And the floor.  And the ceiling.  And the toys.  And his three children in the center, who quickly hid their paintbrushes behind their backs but did nothing about the empty jars of paint scattered across the floor.

Back when he’d first acquired a child, Din had told himself he would never be the parent who yelled in anger.  So he didn’t quite yell as he sputtered “You - what - how - who did - explain yourselves right now!”

Grogu pointed at his sisters, Alanne pointed at him and Brizsa, and little Brizsa looked at both of them before pointing at Alanne and Grogu.

Din put his hands on his hips, refusing to blink or move when a blob of paint fell on him from above and slowly slid down his cheek.  “Well?!”

Predictably, Alanne broke first.  “We were painting, Daddy,” she said softly, her eyes as big and round as she could make them, a trick she had learned and mastered from Grogu.

“Then why didn’t you use paper?” Din asked, to delay while he tried to figure out what to say.  In unison, his three children looked back at the easel - literally the only item in the room without paint on it - and turned back around.  Alanne said “I dunno” and Grogu shrugged and Brizsa cheerfully said “We do paintball!”

“Paintball?” Din asked, raising an eyebrow.

“I like paintball!” said Brizsa happily.  “Grogu and Alanne do it for me!”

Din did his best to look stern to hide his confusion, and then he finally remembered.  Last month they’d all gone to see a paintball match, a new fad from Coruscant that Sabine Wren was encouraging - a game that was like shooting except with balls of paint instead of slugs or lasers.  He and Cara had taken the kids to see, figuring it was an easy way to keep up support of Clan Wren and entertain the kids.  Brizsa had been enthralled, but apparently he’d underestimated how much.

“You can’t play paintball inside, Brizsa,” Din told her.  “You need to be in the special arena for that.  Our paint is for painting.  On paper.”

“Grogu make the paint go with the Force and Alanne use a brush!” Brizsa said brightly, oblivious to his attempt to scold her.  “Paint go whee!”

Din decided to try his other children.  “Alanne, you’re six, you should know better.”

“I’m just a kid.  Grogu’s sixty.”

“I’m still a kid too!  My species ages differently!”

“It was his idea to make the paint fly for Brizsa!”

“Was not!”

“Was too!”

“Enough!” Din said, cutting them off and trying not to pinch the bridge of his nose.  “You are all responsible for cleaning all of this up.  Every speck of paint, gone.  You understand?”

Alanne was already reaching for the comm button.  “Not your nanny, not any droids, you,” Din said sternly, pointing his finger.  She pouted at him.

He allowed one of the cleaning droids to bring them rags, water, soap, and sponges, but after that he stood and supervised and tried to stop Brizsa from playing in the bubbles and remind her this was supposed to be a consequence of her actions.  “I don’t care bout con-so-kenzes, Daddy.  I like bubbles!” she said, oblivious.

Din sighed.  At least Cara would enjoy the story when she got home.