#grogu is a menace of a child and that's why we love him

[samspenandsword]

The Fields of Sorgan: Din Djarin/Reader (Fem)

Summary: When Mando takes the job on Sorgan, he runs into the reality that he’s never had to take care of a baby before. Let alone a non-human baby. Luckily, the woman housing him is more than happy to help.  Pairing: Din Djarin/Reader; fem!reader with no mentions of her appearance. Rating: GEN — SFW Warnings: None — allusions to violence, small amount of language, domestic bliss, fluff, ridiculous amount of baby and child antics, topics relating to being/becoming parents (NO PREGNANCY) some angst towards the end. Word Count: 4.3k

When you and your sister-in-law Omera volunteered to house the ones who promised to help repel the attachs and raids on your village, you hadn't quite been expecting who actually came. One was a woman, tall and obviously strong with dark hair. She left quickly with Omera, Winta and her million questions bounding along right behind. But the other, the one who followed behind you with steps quieter than his armor seemingly should've allowed, was the Mandalorian. You'd never met a Mandalorian before, though you'd certainly heard of them. Even on Sorgan, you'd been told stories of the greatest warriors in the galaxy.

Mando was quiet as he followed you, weaving around the pools and paddies of krill your village farmed to brew spotchka. You lived around the outskirts of the village, closer to the treeline than anyone else. You had your small hut, and your barn, equally small. You hoped it would be enough for the warrior, but something told you he had slept in worse conditions than a small barn.

He himself was quiet, which you imagined helped him sell the whole brooding-warrior-in-beskar image he wholly embodied, but as you came back into the barn, carrying a pile of hand-stitched and woven cushions and blankets, he thanked you.

"I appreciate it."

He had a soft voice, with a mild gruffness behind the modulator. You couldn't tell if the gruffness was natural or if it was simply a result of him not talking much.

"It's no trouble, really. I appreciate everything you're doing for us. I know we weren't able to pay what a man like you would usually make."

His weight shifted a little, caught out, but you didn't allow him to feel awkward for long, disappearing once more. When you returned, only a moment later, you set down a bassinet not far from Mando's makeshift cot.

Mando's baby, or foundling, you supposed, was cute. In an ugly sort of way. You'd never seen a lifeform like him before. He was little, green, and wrinkly, with wispy hair on his head. His ears were the size of his entire body, his eyes huge and curious, and he wore clothing that could've doubled as a sack for potatoes.

You couldn't help but smile at him. "Hi, little one." At your voice, the baby cooed, raising his arms up in a clear request to be held. After a subtle nod from Mando, you obliged the baby.

"Ooh, you are a cutie, aren't you? You're going to be spoiled rotten. Are you hungry, baby? I bet you're hungry. Let me get some food for Mando and then I'll get some bone broth for you."

You soon learned that the baby was a bottomless pit when it came to food. He truly would eat all day if you and Mando let him. Thankfully, he was occupied most days by the village children, who were absolutely delighted to have the child as a playmate. He spent the days both before and after the attack running around the paddies with the other children. And came back with his insatiable appetite. You might be annoyed by it if he wasn't so damn cute.

And if you didn't have such a soft spot for his father.

You'd only referred to Mando as the child's father once, and you had seen the way he shifted. He obviously wasn't sure what to make of the term, so you'd never used it again. Eventually, in the days following the successful defense of your village, he told you how the child came to him: the bounty, the Imperial remnant, the rescue, the Guild coming after him, the Covert coming to his rescue. You weren't sure exactly why Mando was telling you everything, but you had the feeling he simply needed someone to vent to. He'd obviously never had that before, and you were happy to listen. A lot had changed for him in a simple matter of days, and he had no idea where his future would lead. But all the same, he had still helped you and your village, so you were happy to give him whatever he needed. Food, shelter, cover fire, an ear.

Childcare lessons.

It had been fairly obvious from the start that Mando had no idea how to take care of an infant, even if that baby was 50 years old. And even for you, who had helped to raise your younger siblings, there was a bit of a learning curve. The child wasn't human after all, so neither of you had been sure what was and wasn't safe for him to eat, or what would provide the best nutrients for him, and Sorgan didn't have the resources for either of you to go researching. Mando told you, with a dry sort of humor in his voice, that the child seemed happy eating everything from bone broth to live frogs. You'd grimaced.

"Let's hold off on the live frogs for now," you said. "I'm not sure all those bones are good for his digestion."

The baby was miffed every time the both of you scooped him up when he went after the frogs hopping around the paddies. But you both held firm.

But he definitely loved bath time.

He loved the splash Mando, and to blow bubbles under the water, smiling and giggling all the way. He loved when you made little swirlies in the water, and seemed genuinely upset when bath time was over. At least, until you wrapped him in a blanket warmed by the fire and let him snuggle with you.

He was a cuddler, that was for sure. Even with Mando, who was constantly covered with his beskar. The baby didn't seem to care. He simply liked being in the arms of others.

Especially you and Mando. Though he loved toddling after Winta and the other kids as well.

He was a good sleeper, too. Sometimes, he could be fussy when he was put down, but he usually fell asleep and stayed asleep.

Though there were definitely harder nights. Nights where he woke up, wailing and crying.

The first night it had happened, it had taken you a moment to realize what was happening, unused to the sound of a baby crying in your home anymore. It was a few days after the attack, and the town had been sleeping soundly for the first time in what felt like months. But as the baby continued to cry, you stood up and padded out to the barn.

Mando was kneeling at the baby's bassinet, awkwardly, shushing him like he was a too-loud droid and not a baby. Feeling a little amused, you knocked on the door slightly, announcing your presence.

The slump of Mando's shoulders either meant that he was relieved to see you, or that he was guilty the baby had woken you up.

Maybe both, but you didn't mind.

"Hi, baby," you cooed gently, padding towards the bassinet. You kept your voice soothing, gentle, warm. The baby had fat tears rolling out of his big eyes, and though you weren't sure what was wrong, you knew the baby needed to be held right now.

You just didn't think it was you he wanted to be held by at the moment.

"Go ahead, Mando. Pick him up."

He hesitated slightly, but stood and gingerly lifted the child from the bassinet. You huffed with amusement. He was holding the baby so awkwardly, like a bomb about to go off.

"Closer," you instructed, gently guiding the baby into the Mandalorian's chest, which you realized was beskar-free. For perhaps the first time since you'd met him. "Hold him closer."

You kept your hand on the baby's little back, soothingly rubbing it as he released a little hiccup and continued to cry.

"Rub his back," you said, taking Mando's hand and pressing it to where yours had just been. You kept your hand over his. It was the first time you'd seen him without gloves as well, and his skin was warm against yours. You tried not to dwell on that. "Like this. It grounds him."

Mando slowly rubbed the child's back, a little awkwardly still, but you could tell he was trying.

"Rock gently," you continued. "Just a gentle shift of your weight, side to side, with the barest bounce. Yeah, just like that."

Mando slowly rocked the baby, your hand still covering his own. Your hand had come to smooth over the child's wispy hair. Mando eased closer so you could continue more easily. You felt his proximity more keenly than you cared to admit.

You swallowed.

"Talk to him," you said next.

"About what?" Mando asked, sounding a little confused.

"Anything. Everything. Just let him hear your voice."

Slowly, and maybe a little unsurely, Mando began to talk. He was clearly unused to making idle chat, and you smiled amusedly as he began to list the specs of his ship. A Razor Crest, he said. How it was pre-Empire. The engine speed and capabilities. The weapons systems. Both spec and modified. How he'd built a chamber into the ship so he could freeze his bounties in carbonite.

Slowly, but surely, the baby began to calm down, his cries quieting to sniffles and hiccoughs, and eventually fully ceasing, his little face smushed into Mando's chest as he slept once more. Mando fell silent again too, slowly, and a little tensely, replacing the child into his bassinet. You gently tucked him in, and the baby continued to sleep soundly.

You gave Mando's arm a gentle squeeze. He didn't tense or jump at the contact for once. You tried to chalk it up to him being tired.

"Why was he like that?"

You chewed on your cheek a little, wondering how to answer.

"Children get scared, Mando. What happened a few days ago was scary. And he may not have seen everything, but children pick up on their surroundings more than you'd think. We were tense and scared, so he was too. He could've had a nightmare."

Mando was still, like he'd never considered the possibility. You squeezed his arm once more.

"I got him next time. We can take turns."

And with that, you both went back to bed.

But the next morning, things were undeniably a little different between the two of you. It became less of Mando taking care of the child while you gave tips. More of you both taking care of the baby. You ended up sewing up a quick sling for the baby so he could be with you when you woke early and made breakfast, letting Mando sleep in a little further. Or when you did laundry and mended clothes from the village. There had been one day where the baby had been particularly insistent on staying close to Mando, and it had been more than a little funny to see the baby, smiling and swinging his little arms from the sling around Mando's beskar-covered chest.

The memory of Mando's sigh still made you giggle.

You also remembered when you'd taken the baby with you as you ventured out for a hunt. As one of the only people in the village other than Omera who was proficient with firearms (your brother, her husband, had taught you both), you often brought meat and foraged plants back to the village. The baby had been strangely thrilled when you'd brought down a particularly large grinjer.

You'd chuckled at him, dropping a kiss to his little head. Traveling with a Mandalorian was going to do weird things to the child's sense of humor.

The days came and went in relative normality. And somehow, the warrior-in-beskar and his little foundling simply became part of the village. As did the former shock trooper, who you found a bit intimidating, but good-humored. Winta seemed to really like her, and Omera seemed happier and more at ease than you'd seen her in a long time. And the longer the village went with peaceful, raid-free nights, the more it seemed to settle. Children laughed and played more, the work in the paddies no longer seemed so draining, and the village simply began to feel like home again.

But a stone grew in your gut with each passing day. Because you were beginning to wake with the fear that each day would be the last you got to spend with the Mandalorian and child.

And that day soon came.

It was a nice day. The sun was shining and the sky was blue with lots of fat, fluffy clouds. It was perfectly warm with the more pleasant breeze wafting over the grass fields around your village, just before the thick trees of the forest.

You'd packed some lunch for the kid, trying (and failing) to keep him from slurping it all up in five minutes flat before he toddled off to chase some dragonflies.

You smiled, shaking your head fondly from where you sat on a well-worn, well-loved blanket. It had become the baby's favorite in the weeks he'd spent with you. He didn't want to go anywhere without it.

You were so, so conscious of the fact that Mando was sitting just beside and slightly behind you. So close you were aware of every breath he took. So close that all you had to do was lean over an inch, and your shoulder would brush against the armor on his chest.

"It's... very nice here."

Your good mood dropped. You'd been fearing, expecting this for days now. But it didn't stop the swell of disappointment in your gut. The words made you feel chilled, as if the warm midday sun had simply decided not to touch you. The fond smile that had graced your face was no longer there, replaced with something grave.

"It is."

Your voice was level. More level than Mando had ever heard it. He winced beneath his helmet. You knew where this was going, and it made you upset.

He had made you upset.

It hurt him more than he wanted to acknowledge.

"He's very happy here."

Mando's helmet tilted in the direction of the child, who paid the two of you no mind as he chased dragonflies and butterflies over the grass in your peripheral.

"He is."

There was a pregnant pause, and Mando realized you were going to force him to say what he meant. What he was thinking. What he was feeling.

You were good at that, in a way no one else he'd met was. He both loved and hated it.

"We raised some hell here a few weeks back. It's too much action for a village like yours. Word travels fast." There was a pause, as Mando swallowed and forced himself to continue, unable to meet your heavy, upset, knowing gaze. Even from behind the sanctuary of his helmet. "There are kids here. And everyone's finally happy again. I can't stay knowing it could bring more attention to your home. More danger. It's time to cycle the charts and move on."

Your throat began to tighten, and it took physical effort for you to keep your voice level when you responded. And when you did, it was still in barely more than a whisper.

"When do you want to tell him?"

The two of you looked over towards the baby, playing happily in the grass. The sight of his little mud-stained outfit, and the idea that you might not get to cuddle and hold and feed him again made your eyes sting too.

"I'm leaving him here."

You whipped your head back around, mouth falling open with shock.

"What?"

"He's happy here." Mando's voice, gruff as it usually was, contained a softness to it you'd never heard before. He almost sounded... sad.

"Mando, no -"

"I can't take him." The softness left Mando's voice, replaced with a vehemence that made it sound more solid, more organic than his modulator should've allowed. "I'm a bounty hunter, not a caregiver. You showed me that. You can take care of him better than I ever could. I track bounties for days, sometimes weeks at a time. And I'm wanted now. I can't bring him with me and knowingly put him in danger. Knowing I can't provide for him like he needs. The credits your village gave me is barely enough to cover fuel for my ship, let alone food or toys or new clothes like he needs. I —!"

Mando's voice never increased in volume, the two of you still speaking in hushed tones so as not to gain the baby's attention.

"Traveling with me..." Mando's voice was soft again, and this time you were certain of the sadness in his tone, "that's no life for a kid."

Your throat was still tight. Maker, you were upset. But you couldn't deny Mando had some good points. His lifestyle was dangerous even before he went rogue and rescued the child. And now, he would be forced to take jobs with less pay and more danger than before, now that the Guild was looking for him, thirsty for retribution. It wasn't a stable life. Not by any means.

And children needed stability. If not from a lifestyle, then from people. Mando could provide neither.

You could provide both.

But Maker, you were upset!

"It'll break his heart," you whispered. You didn't add that Mando's leaving would break yours too.

"He'll get over it. We all do."

His words made you angry this time.

"Get over what? Losing a parent? Or being abandoned."

Mando actually flinched.

"That's how he sees you, Mando," you said. Now that you'd started, you couldn't stop. "You rescued him. You saved him. You were the first positive figure in his life in who knows how long. You're as good as his parent, Mando. And he needs a parent."

Mando looked at you, gaze piercing into you. "He has a mother."

The words that once might have made your heart feel warm made you, instead, feel cold.

"He needs a father, too."

A tense silence fell between the two of you, broken only by the happy squeals of the child, some feet away. He was now digging in the dirt. Maybe looking for a worm.

Or maybe a frog to eat.

Your anger melted away as you looked back at Mando. You knew this was upsetting him as much as it was you. In the weeks he'd been in your village, you'd seen how much the warrior had grown to care for the baby. The increasing involvement in his daily routine. The way Mando cuddled him closer on bad nights, the way he spoke more, the way he helped you with bath time, even took care of the baby in the mornings to allow you more sleep. You'd seen the way he'd grown to see the child as his charge. Maybe even as his own.

Just like you had.

You scooted towards Mando, sitting as close to him as you possibly could without being in his lap. He didn't shy away from the press of your legs against his, and his gloved hands covered your own as you reached up to grip the cowl around his shoulders.

"I'm not saying this to make you feel worse, Mando. But he's not going to understand that you're doing this for his own good. All he'll know is that you left him. That is what he's going to remember, fifty years from now, when he's grown and talking and has maybe grown out of his habit of eating live frogs."

Mando's shoulders shook in a silent chuckle. A sad chuckle.

"You don't have to do this," you whispered. You clutched the fabric tighter in your fingers. "I know your Creed is important to you, and I would never ask or expect you to abandon it. But... you could stay. The village wants you to stay." You bit your lip, voice lowering until he nearly couldn't hear you. "I want you to stay."

Mando's hands squeezed your own, and ever-so-gently, leaned his helmeted forhead to yours. You exhaled shakily, blinking back the wetness in your eyes. Because even as you'd said it, you knew it simply wasn't possible.

Mando couldn't stay.

"Cyar'ika, I —" But he stopped. Because you'd stiffened. And in a blink, you'd grabbed his pistol and shot into the trees.

Mando whirled around in time to see a dark figure fall to the ground.

"Get the kid! Get back to the village!"

He grabbed his phase-pulse blaster and sprinted towards the trees. You gripped the pistol still in one hand, scooped up the scared child in the other, and ran back to the village.

Omera and the trooper, Cara, met you.

"What happened?" Cara questioned.

"There was a figure in the trees," you panted. You cuddled the baby close. You'd stared at the edges of the forest every day for your entire life. You knew what they looked like. You knew when something was different. "They had a rifle."

Cara darted towards the trees, drawing a blaster of her own.

Omera wrapped an arm around you. "Come on, let's get inside."

Mando didn't return until nearly an hour later. There was a cup of tea clutched in your hands. You'd settled the baby down for a nap. And though he'd fussed and refused, your rocking and singing had eventually lulled him into slumber. Mando stopped in the doorway before slowly approaching. Something about his posture made you feel dread.

"Bounty hunter?"

"Yes."

"Was he tracking you?"

There was a pause. "No."

Your eyes closed. "The kid?"

Mando didn't need to answer. He sat down beside you, shoulders tight with tension.

"They'll keep coming for him, won't they?" you said.

"Yes. They knew he's here."

You swallowed hard. You could not imagine what had led to someone putting a bounty out on a child.

You took a deep, shuddering breath. "I'll get his stuff."

But when you went to stand, a gloved hand stopped you.

Mando didn't say anything for a few minutes, but it was clear there was something on his mind. So you waited, squeezing the hand that held yours.

"Come with me."

The words came so suddenly and so quietly you were sure you'd imagined them. But you blinked, looking into his visor, and saw the sheepish, almost hesitant set of his shoulders.

"What?"

"Come with me." Mando stepped closer, gripping your hand more surely. "The kid can't stay here. And neither can I. The bounty hunters will keep coming. They won't stop. The pay-out for him alone, let alone both is too high. But... you were right." He squeezed your hand again. "We were both right. He needs stability. He needs a caregiver. A parent. Someone who can watch him when a bounty is too dangerous to bring him. Someone who can take care of him and my ship when a bounty takes me away for days at a time. Someone who can provide a more consistent, stable presence than me."

You were sure you looked a picture right now. You had never left your planet before. Barely ever left your village. The life of a farmer was one you had been born into, and while you had entertained the fantasy of something different in your youth, you had been forced to accept that your place was on Sorgan, in your quiet little village where everyone grew and married and farmed krill.

"I don't know anything about taking care of a ship."

"I'll teach you."

"I can't fight."

"You can shoot. You took that bounty hunter down in one shot from several meters away. And you're strong. Farming has made you strong. With some training from me, you'd be able to hold your own. You'd be able to protect yourself, and him if it came to it. And it'll come to it."

There it was, the admission that if you accepted, your life would become far more dangerous than you were used to. The recent raids on your village had been the most danger you'd ever experienced before. But for Mando, it had been just another day. And part of you still couldn't believe what you were hearing. Go with Mando? Leave Sorgan? For real?

But the young spirit in you who'd never gotten to stretch their wings or see the stars beyond Sorgan was roaring at you to accept. No matter how reckless or irresponsible it may be. You knew it'd be difficult. You knew the learning curve would be a steep one. You knew there'd likely be days where you wanted to get angry and yell and cry. Days where Mando wanted to storm off and grumble and get frustrated at having to suddenly share his space with two more people, one of them a child. You knew there'd be hard days, and maybe, maybe in the end you'd grow to regret it. Decide to leave and barter passage back to Sorgan on cargo ships and merchant vessels that came to Sorgan to pick up spotchka.

But then, Mando's words from earlier rang in your ears.

"He needs a mother."

The baby sleeping in your barn was the closest you'd ever come to having a child of your own. To being a mother. And even though it had only been a few weeks, the stinker had thoroughly worked his way into your heart. You literally couldn't imagine your life without him anymore. And you looked at the beskar-covered Mandalorian in front of you. The figure who'd come into your wet little village, armed to the teeth, and saved you all. The man who'd also wormed his way into your heart without even trying. The closest you'd come to truly falling in love.

And you knew you wouldn't regret it.

"Give me thirty minutes to pack?"

Mando touched his forehead to yours once more, squeezing your hand in his. The tense set of his shoulders relaxed into something far happier.

"You have twenty."

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[kyberblade]

Back To You (Din x Reader) - Part 16

A/N: Whew. This is 100% my own brain child, as in no show plots. It’s just domestic fluff and fluff fluff and action and shenanigans and revelations and ahhhhhhhhhh! I hope you enjoy. There is no show dialogue in this one. (ALSO! Episode 3 tonight?! And also my return from the world of shadow silence…. We’re celebrating a lot here today!) Also, once again, there is some lore in this that @writerlyhabits​ wrote in a fantastic short, and I loved it so much, I asked if I could use it.

(This takes place right where the other one left off and is in between episode 2x5/13, The Jedi, and episode 2x6/14, The Tragedy.)

I do not own Star Wars or it’s characters. Sadly. But I carry them in my heart. Does that count for something? My soul says yes.

Warnings: Tooth rotting fluff, Grogu being the cutest thing you ever did see, and Din is once again a warning in and of himself in this one. Typical show violence. Swearing. Space swearing. Grogu is a menace. Arguing? Mando’a.

Word count: 17,396 (I said what I said.)

As always, thanks to @grippingbeskar​ for encouraging me, looking over this for me, and being the one to introduce me to Din fanfiction in the first place, getting me hooked. You are fantastic and I always love our chats.

Thank you to @fordo-kixed-rex for your endless hours helping me over goodness knows how long since I started this, helping me come up with SW-sy names, for reading this over for me and letting me know I’m not crazy. And @deceiver-of-gods​ for helping with the Mando’a. (Any mistakes are my own.) (Also, Huttese is a crazy hard language and I don’t know why it’s Din’s go to.)

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Xxx

The Crest was orbiting Tatooine, some final checks in progress as you watched Din from your copilot’s seat. 

Grogu babbled something quietly from his seat to your right, making incessant grabby gestures toward the crate at your feet you’d brought up from the lower level. Soft grunts of frustration painted his string of gibberish in his efforts now and then.

Looking down to the box, amusement colored your features. “What, ad’ika? You want one of these?” Reaching down you pulled up a ration packet, holding it between your thumb and index finger tantalizingly. Letting it dangle as his eyes grew wider, darting between you and the packet and back again in a never ending circuit, you laughed softly. (“Little one.”) 

“Here you go.” Tearing it open, you handed it to him, stopping just short of his outstretched hands and pulling it back a little. Eyebrow raised, you tilted your head down to look down your nose in warning. “Slow.”

Grogu just closed his mouth, his large eyes blinking up at you in understanding as he gently took the packet, making one last circuit between it and you before plopping into his seat with a soft coo. He ate like it had been months since the last time, not a handful of minutes, making you shake your head before settling back in your seat.

“Why are you feeding him?”

Din’s voice pulled your attention to him, your head snapping up from looking at your lap as you brushed crumbs from the packet away. “Oh, this is just a snack. I already gave him dinner an hour ago.”

A moment of silence settled between you before Din sighed heavily, his shoulders rising and falling with the effort. “I gave him dinner two hours ago,” he said, voice resigned as his head tilted to the side.

All you could do was blink. “Din, two hours ago we were loading up the Crest in Peli’s hangar. The hour before that we were in the market for last minute supplies, I got him fresh food there. Three whole frogs. He’d already eaten.”

After another long moment as Din looked between the child while he munched away happily, then back to you, he sighed yet again. Bringing his right hand up to worry back and forth against his forehead, the leather of his glove squeaked against the beskar with each pass. “Well he sure was acting hungry.”

You nodded, trying not to smile like you wanted to, everything about this conversation amusing you more than it should. “Yeah, acting.” Looking over at the tiny green gremlin, the smile won over as it climbed up the side of your face. “I've said it before, and l'lI say it again - where does it all go?”

“What if he's having a growth spurt?”

Turning back to face Din, you studied his body language, not sure if he was joking or not. His voice sounded serious enough, but that could just be sarcasm - he tended to do that. Often. And sometimes his dry tone just came off as not so much a joke, but entirely serious. It could lead to some hilarious moments, but right now, it just made your head hurt. He gave away nothing in his posture, sitting mostly relaxed like normal in his seat, so you just decided to go with it.

“He's a fifty year old man. How much growing does he have left in him? Look at him.” You gestured to the tiny green ward as he disappeared inside the ration packet to get the crumbs at the very bottom. “How tall is he going to grow that he needs,” glancing down at the crate, you did some quick math before lifting your gaze back to his visor, “seven ration packets in that amount of time?”

“You don't know,” he was quick to answer.

Doing a double take as you went to look back at the kid, you raised your brows at him, your voice miraculously low and even. “I know enough.”

“Do you?”

Crossing your arms over your chest, you leaned back in your seat, getting comfortable. The way your head was tilted back against the headrest, you were looking down your nose at Din. “Well neither do you, if that's your argument.”

Din’s voice was eerily calm. “I'm not arguing.”

You couldn’t help but snort out a laugh, letting your eyes close for a moment as your head lolled to the side, facing the kid before you turned a sarcastic glare back on your Mandalorian. “This is the definition of arguing, Din.”

“I…”

A small plop drew both of your attention away, looking down to find the kid had dropped out of his seat, had pulled another packet out of the crate, and was trying to make a getaway with it; standing in the middle of the cockpit with a packet almost bigger than he was.

You both said firmly in unison, “No!”

Grogu froze, turning to face you both and promptly falling into a seated position on the floor. Slowly he pulled the packet closer to his chest, looking between the two of you with large seemingly innocent eyes that only blinked maybe twice as they peered into your souls. 

“Kid…” Din’s exasperated sigh made you roll your eyes, turning your focus back on him as you sat on the edge of your seat facing sideways toward the child.

“Din, that's not going to do anything.”

He threw his hands up in the air, letting them slap back down on his thighs loudly as he leveled the stare of his visor on you. “Then you try, oh wise one.”

Making a face at him that was probably childish, to which he slightly tilted his head in response, you did what he asked. “Grogu. Hey. You don't need- Grogu?” 

When you turned, you found an empty cockpit, no child, no packet, just the tips of his ears disappearing below the hatch to the lower level. “Great. You scared him off, Din.” You copied him, tossing your hands up and letting them come down with a slap.

“I- No, you- This....” The following silence was so intense, it had to be something they taught him in Mandalorian training.

Soft cries of frustration came from below as you knew Grogu was trying to wrestle the packet open, but you used it as unneeded fuel for the fire. “Look what you did now, you've upset him.”

The scathing look you could feel along the lines of your face from under the helmet was not something you would forget anytime soon. It was so intense, so practiced, it had to be the second step they taught all young Mandalorians, right after silence.

Then came the third step, which you had no doubt Din himself probably taught other Mandalorians. Turning quickly in the pilot’s seat, he faced the controls, every line of him rigid as he jabbed at some buttons unnecessarily, the ship still floating aimlessly in orbit. The silence was thick as he pouted for a long moment.

Finally, taking a deep breath, you sighed. “Look. Just... Just tell me the next time you feed him, okay? In fact, tell me every time. I'll tell you, too. That way we don't run out of supplies, and he doesn't turn into a BB droid, rolling around here.”

Din’s body deflated as he chuckled softly, giving his head a gentle shake at the mental image you’d painted.

Smiling, you went on. “After all, these are the types of things you should probably tell your wife….”

He groaned, tossing his head back against the seat and giving it another gentle shake as he stared at the ceiling. 

“I mean, that’s the kind of thing she deserves to know.”

“Will you drop it already?” Din turned his visor toward you. “Please?” His voice was somewhere between annoyed and pleading. “I’ve told you, it was just a slip up, I didn’t…. There’s a lot more…. It’s a much more involved process if that were ever to really happen.”

“Well good,” you gave him one single nod in a definitive end to the conversation, and he turned back to the console after returning it tentatively. You smirked as you added, “Because I’m not that easy.”

He deflated, his shoulders slumping forward as a breath rushed out of him, his hands flattening against the console as he leaned into it slightly.

Din visibly relaxed, his head coming down, beskar clad forehead thumping once softly on the console between his hands when you quietly concluded with a grin, “Now I’m done.”

“Thank you,” he mumbled against the controls, his vocoder gently buzzing against the hard surface. Lifting his head suddenly as he took a deep breath, he resumed his assessment of various buttons and switches like always, as if nothing had happened. 

“Where do we go after Tython?” You asked gently, settling back into your chair with a quiet huff of air.

Grogu squeaked in distress from below, so you reached out your hand, a lone packet flying up the ladder into your palm with ease. An indignant squawk floated up through the opening shortly after to meet it, and you turned your head toward the hatch ever so slightly. “I’m opening it for you, ad’ika. This is your last one.” Tearing it open, you mumbled, “Maybe for your life, I haven’t decided. At least for today.”

Din chuckled, making you smile as you continued. “You want some? Come back up here. That little evasive maneuver was impressive, but I want you where I can see you.”

Companionable silence settled between you while you waited for a response from the kid. Finally, you mumbled to Din with a wink, “Kaysh guur' skraan.” (“He loves his food.”)

“Kaysh emuuri epar,” he agreed. (“He likes to eat.”)

Babbling that sounded an awful lot like grumbling began to get slowly closer, so you nodded for Din to continue.

“I don’t know. I had hoped maybe we could talk with the Mandalorians, if we could find them, and they would have more information. I still believe-”

“Oh!” Your eyes wide, you stared vacantly through the viewport before they scrunched up tight and your palm came up to smack your forehead. Cradling your head in your hand, you rolled it slowly back and forth as you mumbled, “I can’t believe I didn’t think of it sooner.”

“Of what?” Din’s words registered just as you felt a tiny tug on your pant leg. Looking down, you saw Grogu looking up at you somewhat sheepishly, his large eyes blinking a bit too much as he worried his lips in a meek expression.

Offering him a soft smile, you lowered the packet down to him, laughing quietly at the pure joy that overtook his face, and the eagerness he snatched the packet with. Not even bothering to get back in his chair, he plopped down where he was and dug in.

Meeting Din’s patient gaze again, you let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding. “I know someone on Coruscant who might know where some Mandalorians are. Or at least something about them.”

“How?” You’d half expected him to sound accusatory or suspicious, but he just seemed genuinely curious.

“His name is Nem, a patron at the bar. He works seasonally on some backwater forest planet…. Sorgan?” Din sat up straighter, but you thought nothing of it. “Then comes back for a few months, always stops in for a drink. In fact, once he told me all about a Mandalorian in shiny armor who helped a local village fend off raiders, not knowing I knew said Mando.” You grinned, leaning in almost conspiratorially. “Or that he came into the bar right after him.”

Din’s breathing had gotten rapid, but he said nothing. So after you narrowed your eyes at him for a moment, waiting, you went on.

“Said something about how the Mando had a child and almost ended up staying in the village long term.” You looked up at him curiously. “I hadn’t met the kid yet, so I didn’t know what to think at that point, but I remember feeling kinda sad that I….” Turning your attention down to Grogu for something easier to focus on, you swallowed once, your voice dropping slightly. “Like I almost lost you.” Lifting your eyes back to his visor after a moment, you couldn’t help the sad smile. “If you’d stayed there, I wouldn’t have seen you anymore.”

He was quick to try and fix things, jumping in with, “I would have-” but you didn’t let him get far.

“Din, I’m not stupid. I know you….” You looked at your hands in your lap, your voice small. “I’m sure she was worth it.”

Silence. More silence. It was stifling and thick, and so quiet it was loud. It filled the cockpit in an instant and seemed to suck out all the air, everything you needed to breathe, to exist comfortably gone faster than a sigh. Even the Crest seemed to know, the beeping of instruments seemingly quieted to honor this mandated…. silence. 

Finally something breaks, something gives, coloring the air with the sound of life, the contours of living. Din took a deep breath, then paused, like he didn't actually know what to say. His gloves creaked as his hands opened and closed in nerves, winding tighter each time. Finally, he found what he was looking for somewhere, his hands opening, fingers spread wide, his voice uncharacteristically low and quiet.

“There…. There was a widow. She took care of Grogu like her own, her daughter loved him, and he didn’t stop smiling the whole time we were there. Things just…. Worked.” He slowly sat back in his seat, hands smoothing up along the beskar on his thighs, contemplating his next words. Finally, he looked at you again, his head cocked to the side just slightly as he continued honestly. “I thought about staying….” That’s as long as he could hold your gaze before he turned back to look across the cockpit at nothing in particular. “But in the end I decided to leave Grogu there, where he was happy. He doesn’t deserve this life….” Din stared straight forward for a long moment, his hand clenched into a tight fist where it rested on his thigh. “And I don’t deserve that one.”

Before you could say anything to disagree, he went on.

“Omera agreed to take him in while I left. To continue to care for him as if he were her own.” He stopped, his shoulders sagging slightly as he realized what he’d let slip.

“That was her name?” Din seemed stuck, so you repeated it quietly. “Omera?” He nodded after a moment of hesitation, making you smile softly, your voice low to match. “Omera,” you whispered the name again, letting it settle comfortably under your skin. “Beautiful.”

Din shifted in his seat before he continued. “But then a hunter found us, and the kid wasn’t safe anywhere. And everyone there was in danger if we stayed.” He turned back to the viewport. “So we left.”

Watching the stars crawl lazily by, you let the silence sit between you until you couldn’t take it anymore.

“Nem also mentioned you were with a Rebel Dropper from Alderaan….” Your eyes must have widened comically large as you turned back up toward his visor, his chair swiveling slowly toward you with a long sigh. “Was that Cara?”

He nodded, his head lolling back against the headrest of his seat with a soft thump.

You began to giggle. “He mentioned that the people said you had a very…. Abrupt personality.” He grunted. “I’m going to have to ask Cara about this next time we see her.” He sighed again, his head hanging slightly with a gentle shake making you begin to smile. “In the meantime, we have to get in contact with Nem. The only way I know how is at the bar. He’s due to stop by anytime now-”

“No. It’s too dangerous.” Din’s visor was leveled on you, keeping you pinned to your chair before you could get to your feet.

“Din, come on!” You protested. “I can finally help!” Standing, you began to pace the small expanse of the cockpit, arms gesturing as you spoke. Grogu looked up at you from his perch on the floor while he continued to munch away. “We could make a plan past Tython in case that doesn’t work out. If you're worried about fuel, I have some more credits stored in my apartment - Don’t look at me like that. You don’t live in that part of town and not take some precautions. I will grab them.”

Din rose to his feet, stopping you from continuing your back and forth in the limited space. “Someone could be watching-”

“Then you can watch for me.” You smirked. Turning, you waved your hand for the doors to open to the hatch, Din right on your heels. 

“And what if someone comes for you?”

Scooping up the kid who clutched his packet tightly to his chest, you started down the ladder toward the lower level, pausing just before you were too low to meet Din’s gaze one more time. “You do what you do best.”

Xxx

Walking along the lower levels of Coruscant, the grimy streets and heavy air surrounded you at every turn, and you’d never wished to be away from it more. Having finally experienced fresh air and space, this entire planet felt like a prison now. You understood Din’s distaste a little bit more.

He had left Grogu on the ship, both of you opting to get in and get out as fast as you could, stopping by your apartment first. Din was right on your heels, keeping his head on a swivel and your arm in his grip, ready to pull you behind him and to cover at a moments notice. 

Stopping a few feet in front of your building, you narrowed your eyes at a woman watching you intently a short ways down the walkway.

Din’s hand slowly left your arm and moved to his blaster, but you reached out to stop him, your hand over his.

“Mom?”

You felt him freeze under your touch. “Your mother?” His voice was in your ear.

The woman said your name barely above a whisper, her voice weak in disbelief.

“Mama!” You breathed, rushing over and wrapping her in a firm embrace.

“Oh!” She grunted in surprise, voice strained as she laughed softly. “A little too tight, firefly.” In your peripherals you saw Din tilt his head just slightly at the endearment. 

“What are you doing here?” You mumbled into her shoulder, not ready to let go.

Her hand smoothed over your back comfortingly. “I come by here sometimes hoping I’ll see you.” 

Releasing your mother, you went to introduce her to Din, but she was quick to stop you, waving her hand for you to hush. “It’s not safe for you here.” Her eyes darted into all the dark corners as she spoke, waiting for something. “If I thought of looking here, so have they.” 

You narrowed your brows in question, stepping closer to her as you lowered your voice further. “Who is ‘they’?” Din’s hand softly came to rest on your lower back.

Looking both ways with wide eyes, her gaze finally landed on you, darting to the Mandalorian at your back before coming back to you. “I assume you came here on a commercial flight?” 

Closing your eyes as you tried to wrap your mind around the change of subject and gently shaking your head, you raised one brow skeptically as you peered at her. “No, we have our own ship. Well, he does. I pilot it sometimes, though.” 

She smiled, her demeanor softening for a moment, the tension easing from her shoulders as she stood taller. “You finally learned how to fly. Your father would be so proud.” 

The thought of your father right now amused you, thinking of him standing here, as he stood toe to toe with Din, leaning his head back to hold his gaze. Hands probably on his hips as he issued some absurd warning only the truly brave or truly stupid would say to a Mandalorian. “How is dad?” 

“I’ll meet you on your ship.” She turned to look at Din straight on for the first time in this conversation, without a single flinch. “Where are you docked?” 

He looked at you before answering. “Lower levels, not far from the bar.”

“I know the one,” she instantly confirmed, shooing both of you back across the street. “I’ll meet you there later and bring your father.”

Din nodded, telling her the number of the spot he docked in. Standing back upright, he looked side to side every few seconds as he ushered you to the other side of the street.

“So what, we just go wait on the ship now?”

He merely nodded again, making you roll your eyes as you turned back to face forward, his hand once again on your lower back, gently guiding you toward the Crest. 

“Yay,” you mumbled sarcastically. 

Xxx

As you walked through the rows of ships toward the Crest, silence wrapped around both of you like a blanket. But not a warm, comforting feeling like the one you kept in the cockpit, no. This was nearly suffocating, too tight and constricting, heavy.

“Din-”

“Slana. Kemi ogir,” he said in a low voice near your ear, cutting you off with a slight gesture forward with his head, his grip on your arm tightening. (“Go. Walk there.”)

“Me'bana?” You lowered your voice to match, keeping the slight stumble from your stride as you tried to keep up with his quick steps. The switch to Mando’a was second nature, now. (“What's happening?”)

He hesitated for a moment before lowering his voice further, so much so, you could barely hear him. “Ashnar ru’shekemi mhi.” (“Someone has followed us.”)

“Osik!” You hissed, starting to turn to look over your shoulder. (“Shit!”) 

He gripped your arm tighter, giving it a firm tug back towards him, making you face back forward. “Don’t turn around. They don’t know we know yet.”

Your face screwed up in confusion. “How do you know?”

Din pressed something on the side of his helmet for his display as he explained, “They keep getting closer. No one who knows their target knows they’re there gets that close. That’s just stupid.”

You let out a soft snort through your nose. “Not everyone is you, Din.”

He turned to look at you for the first time in the conversation. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

You shrugged, turning to meet his gaze with a small smile. “Not everyone will do the smart thing.”

He looked back forward with a sigh. “Unfortunately.”

Still looking at him, your smile grew. “I think you mean fortunately. If everyone did the smart thing, we’d be in so much more trouble, and you’d be out of a job.”

“You make a good point,” Din muttered quietly after a moment, making you chuckle.

Turning your focus back forward after a quick glance to your side, you fell in step with Din once again. “Vaabi meg gar vaabi.” You jutted your chin to the side to indicate what you meant. (“Do what you do.”)

His visor turned almost imperceptibly to the right, before coming back onto you, his grip tightening further. “Keep walking, go past the Crest. When we’re one ship away, shoot one of your whistling bird blanks at the panel under the cockpit. It’s still loose, and it’ll fall, distracting them long enough for me to disappear. I’ll get behind them, take care of it. Just keep walking. Whatever you do, don’t look back.”

You stopped moving to stare at him, but he kept pulling you along. “Why? Din, I’ve seen you do worse before. I’ve done worse before.”

His modulator was right by your ear as he kept his voice low. “That was out of necessity. This is-”

“Also necessary.” You didn’t bother to keep your voice low anymore.

“For me.” That was the same tone he’d used when you’d accidentally pushed him on Nevarro and he’d told you to get on the ship, the one you’d only ever heard for bounties. He sighed, his voice softening. “Mesh’la, please. For me. I’m just trying to protect you. Listen just this once.”

You turned only your eyes over to look at him, his visor studying the side of your face intently. “Fine.”

“Thank you,” he rushed out. 

“Just this once,” you whispered as you held up a finger close to his visor, the side of your mouth tugging up in a betrayal of the threat.

He let out a soft huff in amusement. “Keep walking until I come get you.”

It takes you a moment to get out a quiet, “And if you don’t?” Your accusing finger once wagging in his face now fell slowly to your side, your hand hanging limply at your side, feeling as useless as the rest of you currently did.

His head tilted to the side just slightly. “Like you said, I’ve done worse. This will be easy.” The Crest was two ships away now. “I’ll be right back.”

Moving as subtly as possible, you reached across your body, pressing the buttons on your vambrace to lower the ramp, trying to stick to routine. Stopping it after a foot or so, Din moved completely behind you, hissing, “Now!” 

Flicking your wrist down sent your vambrace whirring, one blank whistling bird flying for the belly of the ship. The panel fell with a loud clatter, Din disappearing in the cacophony that followed. Emergency lights shot on around all parts of the Crest, white vapor shooting out from the panel filling the area. Looking up toward the cockpit, you saw a tiny green face you’d know anywhere smooshed against the viewport, his hands on either side of his head as his breaths puffed against the transparisteel. 

You could either seal the ship back up and do what Din asked, keep moving, or you could….

Following your gut with a gentle shake of your head, you lowered the ramp of the Crest just enough for you to jump up onto it, sealing it shut with a hiss behind you. You darted the rest of the way up to the cockpit, scooping the kid out of the window as he watched the commotion unfold below. Muffled grunts and flashes from blasters filled the ship from outside, so you dropped to the lower level. 

“Hey, kid. We’re gonna play a game.” He squirmed in your arms, reaching toward the cockpit with one hand, his eyes darting between you and the hatch leading up. 

Holding up his little round ball between your thumb and index finger like you had the ration packet earlier in the day, you smirked when he settled down, focusing on the way the low lights of the ship caught its reflective surface. 

“I want you to do what Ahsoka asked you to do.” Setting him in his hammock, you took a few steps back, holding the ball up tantalizingly. 

A loud thud sounded from outside, something slamming into the hull of the Crest near the ramp. It made you jump, the kid’s head turning to the sound in concern, but when you reached out to feel for Din, he was smug, making you roll your eyes. He’d done the throwing not the slamming.

Resting your dominant hand on your blaster, ready to draw, you floated the ball to Grogu with your other. He caught it with a soft squeal. “Now, give it here, kid.” You made a grabby hand toward him, making him giggle quietly.

The ball floated toward you slowly as the ramp began to lower with a low whirr. “Keep going, kid.” You kept your voice encouraging, your attention on him with your hand extended for the little orb. Your other hand slowly drew your blaster, arming it and pointing it at the rapidly descending ramp.

“Grogu,” you drew his attention back to you. “Keep your eyes on me, ad’ika.” (“Little one.”) 

His eyes kept darting between the ramp and you, the ball still slowly turning in the air like a miniature planet, suspended halfway between you, stuck where he’d lost his concentration for a moment. “Sur'ar.” (“Focus.”)

Turning your body just slightly more toward the ramp, moving just a step to the left to block more of Grogu from whoever was coming up, you turned your gaze toward the sound of footsteps. Watching as the face of a man you didn’t recognize appeared, you straightened your spine, finger hovering over the trigger, ready…. Then the body crumpled to the ground, revealing Din standing easily behind the man, hand on his hip as he took in the scene.

You, the child, a ball floating between you that suddenly dropped to the floor and rolled to a stop at the toe of his boot. Looking down at it, Din stooped to pick it up, tucking it into his belt, ignoring the kid’s squawk of outrage. Turning back to you, his weight shifted to one leg. “Is there a reason a blaster is still pointed at me?”

Blinking a few times, you shook your head to clear it, holstering your weapon. “I was just being safe.”

“It would have been safer if you had done what I asked you to,” he grunted, dragging the body over to his carbonite chamber.

Watching for a long minute, it’s painfully obvious, so you don’t really know why you ask, “What’re you doing?”

Din’s sigh says he agrees with you, but he answers anyway, “This one’s had a bounty on him for a few years. Gonna collect. Not going to let that go to waste.”

You nodded. Suddenly feeling the urge to explain yourself, you took a deep breath before beginning. “I came up here because the kid was watching you from the cockpit-”

“He’s seen worse.” Such a simple answer. Somewhat crude, actually. It seemed out of character for…. No, it definitely was. 

After staring at him for a moment, you scoffed. “So have I, Din. In fact, that was my argument not ten minutes ago.”

His shoulders went stiff, a heavy sigh leaving him. “It’s different.” He kept his back to you as he prepped the chamber, but you didn’t miss the small wayward glance he sent you over his shoulder before his spine straightened further and he turned back to the panel. 

The air was charged between you, something brewing just under the surface. Your hands came to your hips like his had. “No, it’s not.”

As the carbonite hissed, filling the hull with vapor, Din crossed over to the bunk, closing the door as Grogu babbled. With a press of a button on his vambrace, the ramp began to close, and soon after it sealed, both of you were left in complete silence, staring at one another.

After a long moment, he spoke in a tone that was void of any particular emotion. If you didn’t know any better, you’d say he was a droid. “I need you to do what I ask, mesh’la. It’s only to make sure you’re safe.”

“You don’t need to keep protecting me, Din!” Tossing your arms out and letting them come back down to your sides with a slap in exasperation, you kept your gaze firmly on him. “I can take care of myself. You taught me how.”

Something cracked, his posture breaking down just a bit, the rigidity dissolving under your words. “That’s not-” he groaned in frustration, turning and taking a few steps before turning back to face you again. His voice was lower, full of emotion, too many to name. “I can’t protect you from me.”

Fear. You realized all the emotions swirling in his words came together to paint one singular thing you never thought you’d ever associate with Din. It was unnerving to say the least, and it left you feeling broken, that he would ever be afraid of anything, much less when it came to you.

Staring at him for another long moment, you finally found the words that seemed to fit next. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

He began pacing again, hands gesturing with small, precise gestures that made you think of things you’d see a commanding officer use to communicate in the field with fellow soldiers. “Everything I taught you was to keep you safe with me. We get into some questionable situations and I need to know you’ll be walking back onto the ship with me at the end of it all.” He sighed again, his shoulders slumping forward in defeat. Stopping his back and forth, Din faced you, his gestures now a bit broader, looser, but less emphatic. “But you’ve never seen me doing what I did before you came on the ship.”

You were smiling. This was ridiculous. “How is that different-”

“It just is!” His voice was raised, his breathing coming in heavy pants like this topic winded him. He didn’t turn away again, staying where he was, but he seemed broader, like he was staring down a threat. And in a way he was. If he couldn’t keep you safe, from himself or anything else, that was his biggest fear, and the thing he wanted to scare off the most.

The smile slipped off your face, furrowed brows replacing it. Closing the distance and reaching a hand toward him, he took a step back, almost flinching away from you, making you freeze.

“There’s a difference. It’s….” His body was turned to the side to face away from you, his visor looking at your feet. His voice sounded almost…. Defeated. “There’s a difference between keeping someone safe and taking care of a threat.”

“Not if they both accomplish the same goal.” Your voice was soft.

Din lifted his visor to hold your gaze, his head tilted to the side. His posture conveyed disbelief, hands on his hips again while he studied you. While his breathing had evened out, it was still shallow, and you had a feeling if you put your hand over his heart, it would be racing.

Reaching toward him again, you hesitated when he turned his head to look away, but you continued, placing it on his cheek and turning his visor slowly back toward you.

“It’s no different for me, Din. I don’t judge you for any of it.”

“Maybe you should.” His voice was low and flat.

You shook your head. “No. You’re protecting your aliit, what about that could ever be wrong?” (“Family/Clan.”)

He almost began to melt into your touch, his voice softening along with the hard lines of his posture. “I-”

“Uh-uh,” you shook your head again, grinning when he sighed in frustration, turning his gaze to anywhere but you. “You’re good at what you do, Din. Bounty hunting, piloting, taking care of Grogu, following leads to find the Jedi…. Taking care of me.” His visor landed back on you. “But you also need to take care of you. You have a lot of people who care about you, friends, family…. And we all just want you to be okay.” Your hand fell to rest on his chest plate, and you smiled when you did indeed feel his heart racing, along with deep, steady breaths. “So give yourself a break…. Eat….” You both chuckled softly. “Take a kriffing nap….” He hung his head, his shoulders shaking in silent laughter. “And then we can resume murder and mayhem after. It’ll wait. I promise.”

Glancing over at the carbonite chamber as the last of the vapor dissipated, your curiosity got the better of you. “Was he….”

“He’s alive,” Din grunted, turning his attention that way as well. “But whenever they take him off ice, he’ll wish he wasn’t.”

“What’s he wanted for, do you know?”

“What’s he not wanted for? That would be the easier answer. He’s done a little bit of everything. But he was really big on the smuggling scene.”

Tilting your head as you studied the criminal's face, stuck in a permanent scowl, your brows pinched together. 

Turning back to face you, Din tilted his head to match yours. “Why?”

Your eyes flicked up to his visor as you blinked a few times, trying to find the right words. “Why did someone like him have my puck…. and why would he chance it?” You turned your body fully toward Din. “If he’s evaded everyone including you for years, why risk running into a face to face with you just to get to me?”

“He wasn’t the brightest, maybe he didn’t know I’d be here-”

“Did you remove his stuff before you froze him? His belt?”

Without asking further questions, Din led you over to a crate by the chamber, lifting up a belt with a blaster and a few pouches. You took it, looking through the pouches, emptying the contents, grimacing when you pulled out a few small containers of spice, some death sticks, a small flask that you sniffed out of curiosity - spotchka - then, finally, what you were looking for…. A fob.

Pushing the button, it beeped continuously, making you quickly click it off. “That’s annoying.”

Out of the same pocket, Din pulled out a holopuck, holding it in his palm as he pushed the button with his thumb. A holo of your face popped up, spinning lazily in a circle along with the details of the bounty like the price, your last known location, and the date you were last seen there: Coruscant - Today.

“The price has gone up,” Din mumbled quietly. “Those scumbags on Arvala-7 said it was-”

“Where did they get that picture? It’s awful.” You looked up at Din as his visor turned down toward you. “I don’t look like that, do I?”

He let out a soft huff of laughter, shaking his head as he turned back to the puck, reading over the details. “It doesn’t say who issued the bounty, or why. No mention of me, either, so that explains him.” Din gestured over his shoulder with a jerk of his head toward the frozen villain. 

“You’re saying they’d leave me alone, or at least more of them would, if they knew I was with you?”

He nodded. “Probably. There’s a code within the guild, unspoken but still, and there’s fear among quarry’s.” He shrugged. “I have enough of a reputation in both that people don’t usually mess with me unless the price is good.” Sighing he pressed the puck to shut it down, closing his fingers around it and lifting it up in reference as he spoke. “Unfortunately, this is starting to get that high.” He tucked it into his belt to keep for later.

“What about what started all this? My apartment and the Mando’a on the painting?” Floating the tracking fob above your flattened palm, you disassembled it without touching it once, smiling when small sparks shot out as some wires were pulled out of the circuits. Letting the parts crash to the floor with hollow pings once it was in shambles, you turned your attention back to Din, grinning with a shrug when he just stared at you.

Din watched you for a long moment, before he finally shook his head once at you in disbelief. “I think that was unrelated,” he finally said. “That was because you know me. Now that we know Gideon has been alive this whole time, it wouldn’t surprise me if he sent people.”

“So I may have two different bounties on me?” You collected all the parts of the fob into one pile with some lazy waves of your fingers. 

Din watched in amusement as you swept the floor in quite possibly the most absurd manner he’d ever seen. “No, but you may have two different groups searching for you.”

Directing them with your index finger, you set the parts on the crate by the illicit items you’d removed. “Great.”

You both looked at each other, a smirk climbing up your face as he slowly shook his head at you. “Let’s just hope neither one is particularly motivated.”

Xxx

A soft rhythmic knock tapped against the hull of the Crest a while later, making you and Din freeze as you straightened the ration stores after the kid’s deep dive that morning. Looking up and meeting the other’s gaze, Din finally jerked into motion, taking the few steps toward the ramp. 

Hand on your blaster as he pulled the lever to lower it, you moved in front of the bunk space, waving your hand in front of the panel to conceal a sleeping Grogu.

Before Din could say a word, you heard your mother’s voice quickly advancing up the ramp, his posture relaxing the closer her voice got. His shoulders stiffened when you heard a second voice mumble something lowly, stopping just out of your line of sight.

“Oh, don’t start that now,” your mom mumbled, backtracking before she quickly reached out and yanked on someone, causing some stumbling steps to follow her before you saw the face behind her come into view. 

“Dad?”

The scowl on your father's face melted when he saw you, the corners of his mouth quickly lifting up into a disbelieving grin. He whispered your name as you both closed the distance between you, wrapping the other in a hug, rocking side to side as it went on. “How I missed you. We’ve been so worried. Where have you been, nau ki'bas’ika?” (“Little light bug.”)

You froze immediately, pushing your father to arms length to meet his curious gaze. To your side you saw Din taking a few steps closer, his head tilted as he peered at your father.

“Was that…. Dad, you just spoke Mando’a.”

Realization crossed his features, his shoulders relaxing as he nodded. “Did I? I never knew that’s what that was. I just heard it once and I guess it stuck. It means firefly, right?”

You nodded. “‘Little light bug’, but close enough.”

“Where did you hear it?” Din finally spoke, his voice quiet but curious.

Your father pulled away from you, and walked over to stand by your mother. He gestured to you with his head as he began. “She was young, only maybe twelve at the time….”

Giggling, you ran from your father, darting through the crowded streets of your neighborhood. 

You were determined to make it to the shop at the end of the street. The old lady who worked there would give you sweets if you stopped by alone. She knew your parents didn’t want you to spoil your dinner, so she always feigned innocence when they were nearby, slipping you smaller treats under the counter on those days.

“Get back here!” Your fathers voice faded behind you, his laughter beginning to paint his words as he knew right where you were going. 

Glancing over your shoulder to see how close he’d gotten, you suddenly ran straight into a wall of metal, almost falling back on your seat, but two hands caught you just in time.

Looking up, you saw your own reflection staring back at you in the dark T of a menacing looking visor, surrounded by dark green paint. “Careful, little one,” a kind voice warned through some sort of processor.

Your father called your name a few times, quickly closing in, his eyes wide when he saw the man’s hands around your arms. “I’m so sorry, sir.” Taking you into his own arms quickly, kneeling in front of you, he cradled you into his shoulder. “Are you okay, firefly?”

The younger man laughed, and you thought it was such a happy sound. “I was just in the wrong place at the wrong time. Right in the path of this little one on her mission to somewhere obviously very important,” he chuckled. Reaching out, he patted your head, ruffling your hair. “Be careful next time, nau ki'bas’ika, little firefly. It’s best to go around people, not through them. A much nicer time for everyone involved.” With a gentle shake of his head, he turned and walked away.

“He looked a lot like you, actually. Well, your armor,” your father concluded, pointing to Din. 

You took a few steps over to the weapons locker and pulled out the green helmet you’d worn on Corvus. Looking into the T of the visor, you saw the reflection of your twelve year old self staring back at you, wide eyed and curious.

“That! It looked like that!” Pointing at the beskar in your hands, your father trailed off, his voice lowering to a whisper as his features screwed up in confusion. “Exactly like that. Wait. How did you….”

“Long story,” you sighed, setting the helmet back on the shelf.

Accepting your answer, your father moved on to the next topic. “How did you know that was Mando’a? You’ve never really been one for languages.”

Din had the audacity to let out a snort of laughter from where he leaned against the wall, arms crossed easily over his chest.

Rolling your head to level a narrow glare on your Mandalorian, you signed to him in Tusken in an attempt to keep the conversation a little more private in the tiny hull of the Crest, “What?”

He shrugged. “Jee tinka soong…. nuh'la,” he responded in Huttese, your newest attempted language to tackle, slipping into Mando’a on the last word when he couldn’t think of the proper one in the first language. (“I think it’s…. funny.”)

“Dobrah koona tah seenga Wooky tah uba,” you threatened in Huttese. (“I am going to sing Wookie to you.”)

“Shyriiwook? Ni ne ru’ba’juri gar ibac su,” he replied in Mando’a, completely forgoing trying to maintain the Huttese. (“Shyriiwook? I have not taught you that yet.”)

“Uba tinka Jee joka?” (“You think I joke?”)

A clearing of a throat attempted to pull your attention away, your mother’s small voice making you sigh as you continued to stare at Din. “Did I miss something?”

“No, mama,” with a roll of your eyes at Din, you turned to face your parents. “Just an inside joke.” You shot a glare back towards your armored companion. “Nothing important.” Bringing your eyes back to your father’s, you couldn’t help the smile you felt working up your face. “To answer your question, I guess I just never had a reason before.”

He arched a brow. “A reason?”

“Mando’a is the language of his people, well…. Of his Creed. It’s important to him, so it’s important to me.” You looked back over at Din, eyes narrowed. “Plus, he played dirty and started speaking to me only in Mando’a, so I kind of didn’t have a choice.”

“I did not-”

“After that,” you turned back to your parents, ignoring Din’s aggravated huff. “I wanted to learn because we’ve encountered so many different species and cultures…. I wanted to be able to communicate with them, even just a little bit.”

“Ah, so, ‘Help, I’ve lost my Mandalorian’ in what, seven different languages?” Your mom teased, smiling mischievously.

You laughed. “Something like that.”

Your mother closed the small space between you, resting her hands on your arms gently. “I’m so happy for you. You’re thriving.” The soft smile coloring her features quickly faded, concern clouding her eyes as they fell, mindlessly darting over your vambraces as she pulled back to hold your hands between you.

“What is it? What’s wrong?”

“Your apartment…. It…. It was burned. We…. We thought the worst, then someone from the bar brought in the note you left a few months ago saying you would be gone an unknown length of time. Between that and something about you throwing a lit bottle of alcohol across an alley causing an explosion,” Din groaned softly, cradling his forehead with his hand while your mother took a deep breath before continuing. “The authorities thought maybe you’d set the fire yourself and are looking for you.”

All you could do was blink, looking at your mother, but not really seeing a thing in front of your face. 

Everything in your apartment. Gone.

All the things Din had brought back for you, the memories….

Clearing your throat, you turned your gaze over onto Din, the weight of his patient stare behind his visor drawing lines up and down your face as he studied your reaction.

That place hadn’t really been home for a while now. Had stopped being home the minute you’d left that morning before stepping on board the Crest. And the ship, as much as it was a home for you now, was really just a place to come back to, four walls and roof. Wherever the little green goblin and his big shiny protector were, that was where you were meant to be.

You’re just happy he and the kid weren’t there. Things can be replaced. 

“When nothing happened after several weeks,” your dad picked up the story after giving you a moment of silence to process, “we hired a private investigator.”

At some point during the conversation, Din had floated silently over to stand right beside you, his hand resting on the small of your back in comfort. “That’s where the bounty on you came from.” His voice is low, barely enough to fill the space between the two of you, just enough to buzz from his modulator and tickle your ear. “They don’t care if you’re dead or alive, their job is just to find you.”

Before you could add anything to the conversation, your father came over to join the three of you. He stood toe to toe with Din, peering up at him seriously, and it was every bit as amusing as you thought it would be. “She’s safe with you?”

“Dad, it’s probably the safest place I can be.”

It’s as if they didn’t hear you, neither Din nor your father reacting to your words. They simply continued to stare one another down, your father having to crane his neck back just slightly to maintain eye contact with the Mandalorian. To his credit, only the corner of one eye was twitching, showing his fear under the weighty stare of beskar. 

“Your daughter is very capable herself, sir. She’s saved my life many times.”

Sir? Did Din just call someone sir? You needed to sit down.

As the Crest began to spin around you, the world obviously turning on its head since Din was calling people sir without a blaster to his head, it righted itself just a little bit when you realized the compliment he just paid you in the same breath. 

You’re capable. Capable. In Mandalorian speak that’s the same as calling you one of their own, or it’s pretty damn close. If anyone asked, that’s what you were going to tell them.

And voluntarily saying you’d saved his life? Granted, to your father, that probably wasn’t the best sell, life in peril and all, but! You were definitely telling people about this.

Your father arched a skeptical brow. “Is that so?”

Yes. Yes, it is. If anyone asks, just call me-

Din nodded. “And that of my son.”

….We were so close.

As if waiting for his cue, the bunk door hissed open, revealing the empty chamber, before Grogu peeked out over the edge of the hammock, drawing all eyes to him. Your mother melted instantly, prattling nonsense as she rushed over to him and picked him up.

“He’s like me, mom.” She narrowed her brows in confusion, so you reached into the pocket on Din’s belt and pulled out the ball. “Grogu? Help me out here?” 

The child’s eyes went wide when he saw his toy, and he immediately reached out for it, causing it to fly through the air to his waiting palm. Both of your parents' eyes went wide at him, before they looked at each other, then at Din. “It’s okay. He knows, too. We’re trying to get the kid to a Jedi so he can be trained.”

“There are still some left?” Your mother asked genuinely but looked at Grogu the whole time, her finger fiddling with the front of his robe.

How to answer? 

‘Yes, we just met one and helped her take over a corrupted city to give back to the people’? 

‘Yes, we just met one, and she taught me how to jump on top of really tall stuff’? 

‘Yes, we just met one and she said she can’t help the kid because of his attachment to Din, not to mention me, and my vision dream memory things have something to do with the kyber crystal in my saber and a bond forged in the Force long before the three of us were born’? 

“Some.”

“Is that where you got that?” Your dad asked quietly, pointing to the saber on your belt. 

‘The voices brought me that while we hid in a supply closet and I saw a ten year old Din, a who knows how old Grogu, and a two year old me with both of you, not to mention something from the future involving the Mandalorians, and it all gave me a headache.’

‘The kyber led me to it, and after some vision thingies, I exploded some lights with a surge of Force power, and had to resist The Dark Side when Din almost drowned.’

“No, that found me at a black market port on Trask.”

“Found you?”

Don’t ask.

“Yeah. Like whoever torched my apartment.” You turned to Din beside you, his hand still firmly on your lower back. “I still need to go by there. Get my stash of credits from under the floor.”

“They found them,” your mom said. “That was another thing they thought was suspicious.”

“Of course they did,” you rolled your eyes. “Where are they now?”

“They are holding them as evidence.”

“I’ll take care of it,” Din said softly. 

“What are you going to do, break in and take it?” Your dad scoffed, Grogu squealing in your mom’s arms at his tone toward his own father. 

“No,” Din said pointedly as he tilted his head to the side, looking at your father skeptically. “I have a few contacts here who can take care of it for me.”

Your parents just gave you a look.

“He’s a bounty hunter, what do you expect?” You shook your head gently, not quite knowing what to say past that.

Oh now you’re quiet. Thanks, brain. 

Your dad shifted his weight for a moment before he took a deep breath. “You’re running from a bounty…. With a bounty hunter…. Forgive me, but….”

An anger began to roil in your stomach, your hands clenched in fists at your sides. The room started to fill with a low rumble, and you realized it was the sound of blood rushing in your ears. It was so loud, you could barely hear your voice when you began to speak in a low, even tone. “This all started before there was even a bounty to speak of, dad. This all started because I-”

You're stopped by a tug on your pant leg, pulling your focus down. Grogu’s tiny green face peered up at you, a wave of calm washing over you from the ground up, the low hum coming to an abrupt stop, and your hands releasing at your sides. You bent over to scoop him into your arms, holding him close to your chest.

“The weapons locker started to shake. And a few crates in the corner.” Din’s soft voice in your ear explained.

“Thank you, ad’ika,” you mumbled into the top of the child’s head, taking a moment before lifting your gaze back to your parents. “I’m here because I want to be, not just because of a bounty. When I told him I was coming with him - he didn’t ask - we didn’t even know someone might be looking for me until we got back to my apartment for me to grab a few things. That’s when we found it trashed and knew that I had to go with him, to be safe.”

Din turned to you, his voice still calm and low. “They torched it to burn the evidence.”

Your mother’s head snapped between the two of you a few times before her words came out in a rapid fire. “What evidence? Of what? What’s going on?”

With a heavy sigh, you turned your body slowly to face her, and lowered yourself to sit on a nearby crate, leaning forward to brace your elbows on your knees. Grogu perched on your lap, looking between all four of you as the conversation went on. “There are some people who aren’t very happy that Mando and I….” Your eyes fell to the floor of the Crest, searching for the proper words to complete the sentence. “….Get along. He used to come into the bar every few months, and would bring me something-”

“Oh he’s the one!” She cut you off with a broad smile, eyes darting over to your beskar clad companion. “The one that traveled the galaxy for you.”

You smiled shyly, looking up and over at Din where he’d sat close by, and quickly tucked your chin to your chest to try and hide the growing grin on your face. “Yeah. That was him.” You turned back to your mom. “Still is. The gifts are just…. A little different now. More practical.”

“Oh.” She smiled knowingly, if not somewhat sadly. “So he lost interest?”

Din choked, starting to cough as your eyes went wide, laughter bubbling up and out of your chest.

“No! No, no. Mom. We just…. Like we said, the apartment was burned to cover their tracks because they came after me to come after him. And they’re still coming. So now his gifts help keep me safe.” You traced the line of your left vambrace with your right index finger. “They have helped me find purpose on dark days and strength on hard ones.” Grogu’s hand came up to rest on your vambrace, intersecting your fingers' path, making you smile. “It’s very different, yes, but not anything less, just…. They’ve adjusted to fit the current needs.”

“Running for your life?”

You understood their skepticism. You really did. People only want what’s best for their children, and you can see why this isn’t it for them. On the run, in an old ship, with someone they consider dangerous and a stranger, your life on the line for a few credits….

But you’ve never been more sure of what you're doing in your life.

“Protecting my family.”

Xxx

Your parents had insisted both of you stay the night with them. Something about them feeling guilty about the bounty and since you’d already been found near the Crest once…. You and Din weren’t going to turn down a real bed, there was no love lost between you and the thin bunk pad.

They left to get the room ready while you and Din collected a few necessities for the night.

“I’m going to go get a few things,” you said as nonchalantly as possible.

“Mesh’la, no. What do you need? I’ll go get them, you stay here and lock up the ship until I get back-”

“No!” You said a little too forcefully, correcting it with a softer, “No,” quickly after. “I’ll be fine, Din. I just…. Need some air, that’s all.”

He sighed. “Fine. But I’m meeting my contact here with your credits in an hour. Be back by then so you can count them and make sure it’s all there.” You nodded, turning to go down the ramp when he caught your arm gently, making your turn back to look at his visor again, one brow raised. “Please.”

Offering a tight lipped smile, you nodded again, pulling your cloak over your shoulders as you descended the ramp. 

It was a quick little jog to the bar, just a few streets over, and you stood in the shadows near the entrance, waiting for Nem to show up. 

Looking all around, you saw the bright neon signs displaying their never ending messages in Aurebesh, flashing images of products or faces of spokespersons for milliseconds before moving on to the next. This used to be comforting to you, familiar, but now, after seeing green, and life, space as far as you could see…. You couldn’t wait to get out of here.

The sign for the bar flickered above you, pulling your eyes up to it in amusement. They still hadn’t fixed it. Pulling your eyes up further still, you saw the lines of speeders zooming past above, flickers of finely dressed men and women going about their days without a second glance down to the grunge below. Growing up on the lower levels, you learned that sometimes the best things are hidden, tucked away where you’ll never find them unless you really look. Anytime you entered a new atmosphere on the Crest, you found your eyes instantly pulled downward, scanning the surface for all its secrets. And so far…. You hadn’t been disappointed.

Laughter broke your revere, your focus coming back down in front of you as you saw Nem walking up to the bar with a group of other regulars.

Jostling a nearby pile of trash with a little nudge from your mind, you saw Nem’s eyes dart your way, widening in recognition when he saw you. He opened his arms wide like he was about to make some announcement, but stopped when you shook your head ever so slightly at him.

“Ah…. Hmmm…. You know what, guys? You go ahead. Order a spotchka for me.” He slapped his friends on the back as he started to pull away from the group.

“Where are you going?” Some deep, gravelly voice asked.

“Gotta take a piss,” he pulled a face, gesturing over his shoulder with his thumb, then smiling when they all guffawed before waving him off and disappearing inside. 

Once he was within reach, you pulled him into the alley by his collar, pinning him against the wall by your vambrace at his neck.

He grunted at the impact, but smiled down at you. “Hey, you. Nice to know you’re alive. No ‘hi’? ‘Hello’? ‘How’re you doing, Nem?’ Oh I’m just fine, thanks for asking….” His voice trailed off tightly at the end as you applied a little more pressure with your armored forearm. He reached up, tapping it with one hand as he ground out, “Okay. I get it. I yield, or whatever. Just…. Stop.”

You eased back a bit, rolling your eyes when he took dramatic breaths. Shoving his shoulders against the wall, you took a small step back.

“Are those beskar?” He eyed your vambraces, rubbing his neck with a grimace. A mischievous smile wound up his face, his eyes sparkling in the dimly lit alley. “I take it you found your Mandalorian.”

“He wasn’t lost,” you grumbled. “Cut the shit, Nem.” He chuckled. “Just tell me where I can find other Mandalorians.”

“Why, you got a thing for them or something?” Wiggling his eyebrows suggestively, it melted into a grimace and a groan when you pushed him back up against the wall, vambrace against his throat again. “Okay, okay! Kriff, you need a drink. Hell, I need a drink. Um, I don’t know?”

Pulling him forward by his shirt before you slammed him back into the wall again, he began to protest quickly.

“I don’t know!” He almost yelled, lowering his voice after you gave him a warning look. “I don’t know. Really, I don’t. I heard about the shiny one on Sorgan purely by chance, right place right time, and I haven’t heard a thing since. They are a really reclusive bunch, Mando’s. And I don’t blame them.”

“So you know nothing?” You reiterated after a moment, all your hopes dropping to the ground around you.

“Not a thing,” he verified, his expression sincere. 

“I find that hard to believe,” you hissed. “Your nose is always where it doesn’t belong, in everybody’s business.” Leaning into him again, your voice dropped a bit deeper. “Tell me.”

The smirk twisted back up his face. “You’re so funny. Come on, let’s get a drink.” He went to push off the wall when a shadow moved over both of you from behind you and his eyes went wide as he froze, staring over your shoulder.

“I suggest you do what she says, before I start asking.” You smirked at the familiar modulated voice.

You tilted your head at Nem. “You won’t like it when he asks. Much less pleasant.” You dug the vambrace in slightly on the last word to prove your point. 

“Fine, fine,” Nem hissed after a long minute, reaching up to try and pull your beskar away, grunting when it didn’t work. “I wasn’t listening. Ask me again.” 

Din grunted, his modulator coming right by your ear, but his tone far from something to keep Nem from overhearing. “Before you let him go, I just need one minute alone with him, mesh’la.” 

Glancing at his helmet as it almost rested on your shoulder, you teasingly warned, “Mando….” 

“He won’t die, don’t worry.”

Nem swallowed roughly. “Can I worry?” He asked, raising his hand as if you needed to know who was speaking. 

You slammed him into the wall again. “Talk.”

Xxx

Credits tucked safely onboard the Crest, you turned to Din as the ramp sealed shut behind you, beginning the trek to your parents apartment. 

They had stopped Din before he could lower the ramp, your mother’s hand over his on the lever. She didn’t even flinch when he turned his visor down to look at her in question.

“What do we call you?”

“Just call him Mando,” you jumped in. “Names are something special in Mandalorian culture, like their face. You don’t go around just sharing it with the galaxy.”

Your mother smiled, turning back to Din as she gave his hand a gentle pat. “Well, we would be honored if you called us by our names. I’m Leera, and this is my husband, Dero.”

After a moment, Din nodded, his glove creaking as his grip over the lever tightened. “Din.” Your mother tilted her head at him curiously. “My name is Din. Din Djarin.”

Your father extended his hand, gripping the inside of Din’s forearm as the Mandalorian gripped his. “Nice to meet you, Din.”

“Nice to meet you, Dero.” He nodded to your mom. “Leera.”

Your mother smiled back at him so wide, you thought her face might crack.

“Please tell me Nem walked away, at least.”

Din tossed his head side to side for a moment. “I can tell you he limped away….”

Rolling your eyes with a groan, you continued on in comfortable silence for a long moment.

“How’d you know I’d be at the bar?”

“I followed you from the ship, for one.”

“Really? I was careful! I made sure and kept checking…. I didn’t see you.”

He let out a quiet huff of laughter. “Like I said earlier, no one who knows their target knows they’re there gets that close. That’s just stupid.”

You shook your head as a soft snort of laughter escaped through your nose. “Not everyone is you, Din.”

“No, they are not,” he said proudly, turning to look at you with an affectionate tilt of his head when you threw your head back laughing loudly.

Linking your arm through his as you leaned into his side, you grinned. “So humble.”

“That’s why my armor is so shiny. Humility.”

You groaned at the joke, but looked up at him in amusement nonetheless. “That has to be it.”

Xxx

Din walked into the bedroom at your parents, Grogu propped in one arm, stopping just inside the threshold as the door slid shut behind him.

You stood up straight from where you were digging in your satchel, bent over the bed. “What?” 

It took Din a few seconds to answer, his visor giving you a once over from head to toe slowly, making a smile tug at the corners of your lips. Opting to go barefoot while in your childhood home, you had to admit it probably looked a little odd to go from bare feet up to beskar on your forearms. You wanted to be safe, but you could protect the ones you loved while feeling the plush of carpet between your toes, couldn’t you?

Din shook his head then continued. “I just had a very…. Interesting conversation with your dad.”

“Oh no.” You turned to fully face him, hands going to your hips. “What’d he say?”

Din sighed, walking further into the room to set the kid down. “Well….”

“Let’s get you something to eat,” Din muttered to Grogu, walking quickly toward the kitchen. “Of course you’ve already eaten all the ration packets I packed. How did you even get into that bag anyway?”

Looking down at the tiny face in his arms, laughing softly at the babbled coos he got in response, Din nodded. “Okay. Perfectly acceptable answer. Just next time, save some for us, okay kid?” He swore the child rolled his eyes at him.

Stepping into the kitchen, he didn’t bother to turn on the lights, able to see just fine with his display in his helmet, and the kids' eyes were big enough to see in the dark. Grabbing a piece of fruit off the table, Din recognized it as the same kind you’d gotten on Nevarro, and he smiled.

Grogu let out an unamused huff, making him chuckle softly. “Hey. I promise, kid. You’re gonna love it.” When Grogu still watched the fruit with a skeptical eye, Din tried a different tactic. “Your buir loves them. She’s the one that found them,” he lilted temptingly. (“Mother.”)

He saw the kids eyes widen comically before he reached eagerly for the brightly colored fruit. Quickly grabbing the corner of his cape to dab at the juice streaming down Grogu’s face, he floundered for a minute, letting out a sigh as he reached for a nearby towel. “Come on, kid. Some of it is supposed to be in your mouth.”

The lights suddenly flicked on, making Din spin around on high alert, finding your dad standing in the doorway. 

The only sound for a solid minute was Grogu’s happy squeal followed by gentle babbles as he reached for another piece of fruit. Your father stared at Din who stared right back, not even a twitch of an eyebrow was given, until your father finally gave a sigh that sounded very much like yours.

“Why are you skulking in the shadows, son?”

Din shifted his weight from side to side, pondering his response before stumbling out, “I... I'm not? I'm feeding the baby?” To be honest, his brain had short circuited at being called ‘son’. He’d been called a lot of things over the years, but that had never been one of them. Not since…. Not since before the Creed.

Your mother shuffled in, squinting at the bright lights as she looked around, taking in the scene. After a few steps, she took the fruit from Grogu, raising a brow at his squawk in protest, the arch reminding Din every bit of yours, and amazingly Grogu settled right down under its weight. Shuffling over to the counter, she began to slice the fruit up properly. "How old is the little guy?" She looked over her shoulder when Din didn’t answer at first, gesturing to the table with a tilt of her head before resuming her task.

Din was quick to obey, pulling out a seat to sit for himself, and placing Grogu in his lap, responding as a plate covered in easier to manage slices was slid in front of the little troublemaker. "Fifty."

If Din could capture the look on your parents’ faces to show you, he would. It was priceless. All they did was blink way too much and stare at the child as he munched happily on the sweet snack. Your mother had hesitated before falling back into a chair across from him, while your father shifted his weight to one side, his head shaking slightly in disbelief as he looked at the child with furrowed brows.

“Portions,” your mother mumbled, pointing at Grogu as she cleared her throat and gave her head a little shake. “Smaller portions, easier to chew bites. It’ll make him eat slower, which might help him eat less.” Din tilted his head to the side as he held her gaze, before looking down at the child who smiled up at him broadly. “I heard you grumbling to him in the hall about the ration packs,” she explained.

Nodding, Din lifted his visor back up to hold her gaze. “Thank you,” he kept his voice soft. “Mesh’l- uh, your daughter tries to do that as much as possible with the packets. Insists on hand feeding him if she can, to slow him down. I, ah,” he scratched the back of his neck. “I tend to forget, and just hand him the whole thing.”

Your mother smiled, pushing against the table to get back to her feet. “You’ll figure it out eventually.” She gave her husband’s chest a loving pat on her way out the door before leaving the two men once again in silence.

Din watched curiously as your father made his way over to the table, taking the seat your mother had been in. Leaning back, he looked at the Mandalorian down his nose, his eyes narrowed skeptically.

After several long minutes, Din finally sighed. “What are you doing?”

“...trying to be intimidating. Is it working?” There was no hesitation in his answer, coming immediately after Din’s question like it had been expected.

Din tossed his head from side to side as he weighed his answer. “Kind of.”

Your father bobbed his head in an approving nod. “Good.”

Another few minutes of silence settled between them, but this time it sat more comfortably.

Finally, your father shifted in his seat, relaxing his shoulders as he let out a long breath. “I’m not going to ask you any questions. Frankly, there’s a lot I want to know, don’t get me wrong, but…. Quite honestly, you scare me too much for any of that.”

Smiling under the helmet, Din looked down at Grogu to give the man a break from the intimidating visor.

When your father spoke again, his voice had softened considerably. “She’s my little girl.”

Din lifted his head just slightly to find the man looking at him with a remarkably sincere expression. “Just…. Just promise me she’s safe, that she will continue to be…. And we’ll leave it at that.”

Raising his head the rest of the way so he could look at your father straight on, Din answered with as steady a voice as he could muster. “I’ll do everything in my power to make sure she stays safe and sound. You have my word.”

The two men shared a nod of understanding before Din added one last thought.

“Aliit ori'shya tal'din.” (“Family is more than blood.”)

Your father asked what that meant, eyes widening only slightly when Din explained. Nodding once again, his eyes fell to the table top as he muttered a quiet, “I see.” After a long moment, he began quietly, keeping his eyes down, “I noticed that same symbol from your armor on her weapons. Is that….?”

“My signet. The sign of my clan.”

He bobbed his head again slowly, the only reaction that seemed applicable in this situation, so he kept applying it. “Is it a large clan?”

“It’s a clan of three.”

“Just three?” Your father tilted his head to the side as he studied the Mandalorian.

“All we’ve needed.”

He continued to nod in acceptance, moving the conversation along. “What are your plans after you’ve gotten this one to the Jedi?” He pointed at Grogu, smiling as he watched the little green ward lick the fruit juice off the now empty plate.

Din hesitated, taking the plate from the kid and wiping his face off with the towel still in his hands, ignoring his whines of protest. “We haven’t thought that far ahead yet.”

Your father’s voice had dropped even softer in understanding. “But they involve her.”

Din chose his words carefully, not wanting to do anything to harm the delicate balance he found himself in with your father. He’d thought about this a lot. Since before you even came on the Crest. “All of my plans from this point forward involve her. In some form or another…. They have for a long time.”

The other man grimaced but quickly tried to hide it. “Bounty hunting?”

Din thought for a moment before answering honestly. “Hopefully living.”

“I’ve done a lot of terrifying things, like fighting the mudhorn I thought was going to kill me…. And that conversation was worse.”

You were sitting on the foot of the bed, a hand over your mouth as you tried very hard not to laugh.

“It’s not funny,” he deadpanned, looking down at you with the flattest expression you’d ever seen from the expressionless visor.

“I didn’t say anything!” You held your hands up by your head in surrender, melting into small giggles after a moment under the weight of his stare. “It’s a little bit funny,” you countered.

Din walked around the bed without a word, setting Grogu down near the pillows.

“You know, I get it from him.”

“Get what?” Din asked after another long moment, his voice dripping with a ‘why did I ask’ tone.

“The Force. He's more matters of the mind than physical manifestations, though. He’s what you call Force sensitive, he can feel it more than others, and can manipulate it to a degree, but, not like….” You turned at the sound of giggling, finding Grogu floating through the air, slowly turning end over end. “Not like that.”

Din turned away from his levitating son as if it were just another day in the life - which, to be fair, it was -  and focused on the matter at hand. “Are you telling me he could read my mind, mesh’la?” He hissed the last few words at you, hands on his hips.

“I’m saying he could? If he wanted to? Why, were you thinking about something you shouldn’t be?”

Din’s weight shifted under your question. He hadn’t told you the whole conversation.

“Hopefully living.”

Suddenly he’s transported back to a dream he once had of a quiet life on a secluded planet, somewhere deep in the woods with you and the kid. The kids. 

The smell of something warm simmering on the stove, the peals of laughter around the corner, a soft breeze promising a shift in the weather soon the biggest of his worries.

No bounties, no Creed in the way, just life.

And instantly that dream world is tinted with shame.

He’ll never be able to provide that for you or the kid. And even if he could, he wouldn’t be able to enjoy it with you. That’s not how his life worked. He didn’t get to settle down, away from problems. They always came to him. And he wouldn’t do that to you or the kid.

“It’s a hard life, bounty hunting,” your father pulled his focus back. “But if you haven’t noticed by now, she’s a tough soul. I’d dare say her heart is made of beskar.” What was he getting at? “Wherever you go, that’s where she will be. That’s how she works, what makes her happiest. Best not to fight it.”

“No,” Din finally answered. “No, I was thinking about you, is all.”

“Only good things, I hope,” you grinned at him, your eyes narrowing mischievously. “Appropriate things.”

“Oh, of course,” he teased. “The way you looked in that armor on Corvus, that’s appropriate, right?”

“Stop,” you chuckled, moving to start turning down the bed.

“And the way you tackled that guard from the roof? Or how about the way you just decided to confiscate the asshole’s gun to piss me off?” He tilted his head when you looked at him over your shoulder. “Any of those okay?”

“You didn’t.” Turning to him with a huff, you closed your eyes with a groan.

He waited until you peeked one eye open at him before he answered playfully. “No. I didn’t.”

“You little….” You reached out, giving his shoulder a shove.

“Little?” He chuckled, trying to grab your wrists to stop your onslaught.

“Sometimes you’re such a pain in my ass, Din.” Grabbing his cowl, you tugged him closer, fighting the grin trying desperately to climb up your face. “Kriff.” Tugging down on the material, his forehead came to rest on yours with a soft thunk. “So annoying.”

“Shi par gar,” Din mumbled quietly, wrapping his arm around your waist and pulling you in closer to him. (“Only for you.”)

The quiet moment was interrupted when the kid stopped his tumble through the air by landing firmly on Din’s helmet, patting the top of your head with his hand affectionately.

Hinging your head back until it rested against the top of your shoulders, you peered up at the little green minion. “You, too, tiny. You and your dad have meetings or something to plot your next tactics?” You smiled at Din’s hummed, “Mmm-hmm.” Untangling yourself from your Mandalorian, you reached up to pull Grogu down. “Time for bed, ad’ika.” You set him on the bed before you walked back up to the pile of pillows at the top. “Help me get these off? We can use some of them to make a bed for the kid.”

Nodding, Din went around to the other side of the bed, starting to sort through the mass of pillows. “Now I know where you get your love of pillows from.”

“Don’t you even dare,” you turn a half hearted glare up at him. “I love a pillow, not a mountain of them.”

He held his hands up in surrender, a pillow hanging limply in one hand. “It came from somewhere.”

“You’re going to be going somewhere if you don’t stop,” you grumbled, throwing a pillow at his chest with more force than necessary.

Din handed you the simpler pillows as you swapped them out for the decorative ones, smiling gently at him while you exchanged the soft materials. 

Turning to the bedside table you’d cleared, the lamp now on the floor, casting its light onto the ceiling at an odd angle, you arranged the pillows into a makeshift bed for the kid. “There, ad’ika. How’s that?”

Grogu looked at it from his perch on the bed, then at you, squealing when Din came around with a chuckle and picked him up silently. With a few quick steps, the child was seated on his throne of plush, patting it inquisitively with his hands, tilting his head as he peered down at it.

“Get comfy, kid. You gotta stay the whole night there. No wandering around here. We don’t know who might be watching.”

Turning narrowed eyes up toward Din, you crossed your arms over your chest. “This is my childhood home. We’re plenty safe.”

“Not if anyone else has a fob.”

You scoffed, arms falling to your sides. “Oh, come on. They wouldn’t really try to come in-”

“They would.”

“How do you-”

“I would.”

You simply stared at his visor for a long moment, a sudden scraping sound pulling your focus back toward the child.

He’d pried the drawer on the front open, stuffing one of the pillows inside so it was haphazardly sticking out the side, and curled up in its center with a contented smile. 

“Well. Okay. I guess that works,” you mumbled.

Din walked over to the other side table, taking out the holopuck from the compartment on his belt and set it on the flat surface. With a quick press, all your information spun in black and white above the little device. 

You crawled across the bed to get a closer look. “Anything changed?”

“Now it mentions me,” he sighed. “I don’t know how they are getting their info so fast, but it’s impressive. Must be tied into the mainframe here, or something, direct access to security footage with recognition software….” He paused at your confused expression. “They have eyes and ears everywhere.” He turned back to the display. “The price has gone up, too.”

“That’s not my parents. They don’t have that kind of money.”

“No, I know. It’s who they hired. But I’m just confused why they want you so badly. As far as the local authorities are concerned, this is just a local smash and dash.” You chuckled at his choice of words, shrugging when he looked at you in question. “Unless….”

“Unless….” You encouraged him after a moment.

“No….” He took a deep breath. “Unless Gideon is in on it.”

“That would make more sense.” You reached out, shutting the puck down before getting under the covers. “And I take it that means you’re sleeping in your armor?”

He hesitated.

“You just said it-”

“I know what I said,” he snapped, huffing out a breath as his weight shifted to one side, his voice softening. “We’re several floors up, the building has security….”

“….and I’ll protect you if anybody is stupid enough to try something,” you finished for him. “I wear beskar, too.” You waved your arms a bit as if he needed to know what you meant. “And I’m pretty handy with a blaster.” Din grunted, making you scoff. “Just take off the weapons and your gloves, at least. Your jet pack. Cape. And you don’t need your boots to shoot someone. You have a real bed for one night, and I’d feel horrible if I knew you didn’t get to rest your back because of me.”

Din made his way around the bed, hovering on his side between you and the child. He stared at you for a long moment before finally muttering, “ My back…. It’s not-”

“You groan every time you sit down on the Crest.”

Suppressing it as best he could, Din groaned softly as he sat on the edge of the bed, making you snicker. “I do not-”

Doing your best imitation of his deepest complaint, you groaned heavily, repeating the noise every time he tried to continue talking. Finally a glove free hand came over your mouth, cutting your latest attempt short, and your eyes shot open to find his visor inches from your face.

“Would you stop? Your parents are going to think I’m murdering you, or something.”

Your lips quirked under his hand. “Or something,” you mumbled against his palm, wiggling your eyebrows suggestively.

It took a moment, but Din let out a low groan as his hand twitched, his weight shifting beside you on the bed, making you laugh softly.

“What’s the matter, Mando? Firefly got your tongue?” Your voice was muffled under his hand.

Shaking his head at you, he moved to sit on the edge of the bed, taking his boots off. 

Scooting up behind him, you eased your hands over his shoulders. “Can I help?”

Din took a shallow breath before he nodded once, sitting up straighter and reaching for the front of his cowl. He unfastened it, letting it pool behind him into your waiting hands, where you folded it and set it next to the holopuck. Next you gently disengaged the jet pack, lifting it with a grunt as the weight settled into your hands then down to the floor by his boots with a soft thud.

Din chuckled softly at your small noise of effort, turning his head to look at you.

“Shut up,” you mumbled, coming back up behind him and wrapping your arms around his waist, resting your chin on his shoulder. He still had one glove on, interrupted by your shenanigans, so you helped him ease that off.

His body relaxed in your grip as he let out a long breath, tossing the glove onto his boots.

“Why’d you give them your name?” You asked softly.

“Wanted to,” he said on a breath, his voice relaxed, words almost slurred as the day began to set in.

“But why? You only just met them. It took you years before you trusted me enough-”

“They’re important to you, which makes them important to me, too.” He turned his visor to look at you, his voice clear and soft. “And I trusted you from the moment I met you.”

“Then why-”

“Because that scared me.”

You tucked the bottom half of your face into the top of his shoulder, letting the words fully process. Never did you think about Din being afraid, much less at something so simple. But the more you thought about it, the less simple it became.

He was someone who stayed cut off from the rest of the galaxy, physically and emotionally. By choice and Creed. But then suddenly, he found himself stuck in the middle of a feeling he was unfamiliar with, something new, and challenging.

For someone who had an admittedly usually violent solution for everything, you could see how this would be unsettling.

Unable to help the small tug of your lips upward at the thought, you decided to change the subject. “What do we do from here?”

“We go to Tython.” He said it like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

“Even with the bounty?”

“You’ve had a bounty on you this entire time.”

“Thanks for reminding me. I’d totally forgotten,” you grumbled. “But you know what I mean! Now that it’s higher, and they obviously know what I’m doing, watching me- us. I’m not willing to put the kid, or you, for that matter, at risk-”

“It’ll be fine.”

“How do you know?”

“Now they know I’m here. Even the dullest crook will think twice before taking a shot.”

Turning your face into his neck, you mumbled against his flight suit, “You’re just saying that so you can get out of another piece of armor to let your back relax more.”

“Maybe.” He drug out the word in a ridiculous way.

Rolling your eyes, you looked around the room to make sure everything was settled, your eyes landing on the windows across the way. “You know, this is Coruscant.”

“It is?” He sounded genuinely shocked.

You cut your eyes over to him in a short lived glare. “Every room has blackout curtains to block out the city lights. I know you want to stay ready, but…. If ever there was a place you could feel safe taking off your helmet, it’d be here.” You started gesturing with your hands as you spoke, your face a wide array of expressions as you tried to convince your Mandalorian. “It gets pitch black, like the Crest, darker even, since there aren’t any panels blinking on the walls. I’m not asking you to,” you hurriedly clarified, waving your hands in front of both him and yourself as you were still wrapped around him. “I’m just letting you know, since it’s been a while since you really got to spend some time out of that thing.”

When he didn’t answer, you added on, “I can leave the room.” Pointing over your shoulder towards the door, you shifted that way slightly. “Go to the kitchen, take a bath -hell, there’s even another guest room, I could-”

Suddenly the room was moving as he maneuvered out of your grip, rotating so his lower half was still hanging off the bed, his upper half holding you down. He’d turned onto his hip, his hands gently gripped your wrists on either side of your head, thumbs tracing over the skin in soothing lines while he peered down at you from inches away. Your chests bumped one another with every deeper breath, and you noticed he started to take, deep, even breaths with a smirk.

Just as you opened your mouth to say something, he beat you to it. 

“Don’t go.” He tilted his head to the side just slightly, his voice low and playful. “Because if you go, then I follow you, then the kid comes- it’s a whole thing.”

“But-”

“I’m fine, mesh’la.”

“Okay,” you agreed, not believing a word of it.

The two of you stayed in that position for a long time, the only change when his forehead lightly came to rest on yours. Gently tugging your hands free after a while, he moved to get up, but you were quick to circle them around his neck, keeping him close.

“No, don’t move. Not yet.” Moving one hand, you began to knead it softly into his neck, smiling when he groaned and relaxed further into your touch. “You’re fine, huh?”

Incoherent grumbling vibrated out of the modulator next to your ear where his head had fallen, tucked into your neck.

“If you’re not gonna take it off- any of it- because I’m here, or because it a whole thing, or the bounty,” he grunted for you to go on, making you chuckle softly, starting to knead your other hand in as well, making him go slack into the mattress below the both of you. “As I was saying, if you can’t, then I’ll make it work.” Digging in on a particularly bad knot, you focused on it while you mused, “I think this one is specifically from that conversation with my dad.”

“Probably,” he moaned, his helmet basically pressed into the mattress by your head, only a bit of his weight on you, most on his hip. “I was so tense the whole time. I had no idea what I was doing.”

“Din Djarin out of his depth?” You playfully gasped, melting into giggles when his hand came and pinched your side in retribution.

“If it’s any consolation, you handled it exactly right,” you said. “Dad passed by in the hall right before you came back and I could sense the pride coming off of him. The content. You made him happy.”

“He could have told me,” Din grumbled. “Would have been nice to know.”

“I just told you,” you chuckled, your hands pulling away from his neck as he moaned in protest, only to groan in gratitude when they landed on his lower back and began to knead on the tension there. “You really need to invest in a better sleeping pad for the Crest. What’s there now is ruining your back.”

“What’s ruining my back is being an old man in armor.”

You stopped your movements, and he whined like a child. “Oh, because that’s the sound an old man makes.” Tilting your head, you tried to catch his gaze as he turned his visor just slightly toward you to glare, you could feel it.

“If I agree with you, will you continue?” He all but ground out, a little more of his weight relaxing onto you.

“What do you think?”

“That’s the problem. What you’re doing is making it hard to think. So just tell me, please.” He turned his head a bit more towards you. “Have mercy on an old man.”

You scoffed, starting your ministrations again as he let out a grateful sigh. “You’re not old. The kid is old. ….I can’t believe that sentence just left my mouth.” He chuckled. “Or that it made sense.”

“Okay, fine, I’m not. And you’re right, the sleeping pad is getting a bit threadbare. I’ll pick up a new one before we leave tomorrow.”

Narrowing your eyes at him, you dug in especially hard to a knot. “You’re just saying that because of what I’m doing, aren’t you?”

He groaned happily, nodding his head. “You want a bantha?” You choked on a laugh. “Now would be the time to ask.”

You let out a snort of laughter. “So anything I want, it’s mine?”

“Try me.” He didn’t even hesitate.

“That’s not a yes.”

“You’re very observant.”

“I don’t know if you’re very brave or very dumb to be messing with the person who is not only being nice to you, but being nice to you by digging their fingers into your most painful areas.” You pressed on a large knot with extra pressure for emphasis, rolling your eyes when he only went completely lax in your arms from glee. “Option three, then. Smart. You’re a smart man, apparently.”

“What does that make you?”

“How do you mean?”

“You fell for this smart man’s tricks. What does that make you?”

“Do you really want to go down this road, Din?”

“I’m wearing armor. I can handle it.”

And the two fold meaning of his words sunk in. Even if he didn’t mean it that way, it was how this whole conversation started. Feeling for you had scared him. The man in the beskar armor was afraid of the way he felt inside his chest. Something under his armor, behind his defenses. It must have felt almost like a betrayal.

Pulling your hands up to cup his cheeks, ignoring his almost whine of protest, you turned more on your side, rolling him more so as well in the process.

“I’m sorry I scared you, years ago.”

“What do you-”

“You’re right. You do wear armor. And I can only imagine how it felt to have something break past those defenses.” 

It was nearly silent as you studied his visor, your reflection staring back at you in the low light. The only sounds were Grogu’s snoring, the muted drone of traffic several levels up, the quiet lull of street noises from below, and both of your quiet breaths.

“I hope you know you don’t have to keep wearing it for me.” Your eyes flitted between his, despite the visor. Somehow you knew. “If you want to, that’s okay. I understand. That’s part of who you are. But….” You took a surprisingly shaky breath, and his hand came to rest on your hip, his thumb tracing soothing patterns while he waited for you to finish. You had to screw your eyes shut to focus on the last few words. “But I just wanted you to know. I’d be your armor if you needed- wanted me to.”

You couldn’t bring yourself to open your eyes, the darkness so much easier to hide in. How ironic, since you had just offered him a way out of something similar.

The next thing you knew, the cool touch of beskar against your forehead for the third time tonight made you take in a shuddering breath.

“I’d like that,” you heard him rumble lowly, making you smile. 

A long moment passed with just the two of you and shared space before you finally opened your eyes. “What’s going on in there, Tin Can?”

Din huffed out a soft laugh as he gave your hip a gentle squeeze. “I can’t decide which is prettier armor. You or beskar.”

Your arched brows of curiosity fell flat along with your tone. “Really?”

“You asked.” You could hear the smile in his voice.

“Okay. Moment’s over.” You pushed away from him, your hands already resting on his chest pressing him onto his back in the process.

“Mesh’la, come on. I was only teasing,” Din protested over a laugh, reaching a hand after you as you got under the covers.

You looked up at him, unimpressed. “If you say, ‘we both know it’s the beskar’, joke or not, so help me, a bad bed roll will be the least of your back pain worries.”

His hand recoiled slightly as if you had burned him. “Okay, that’s fair.”

You smirked. “I thought so.”

Din settled in under the light covers beside you, leaving the lamp on the floor by Grogu on. You were about to ask him if he could turn it off when you noticed him sitting up and looking at you.

“Truce?” He asked softly.

“Truce,” you grumbled after a minute, sighing. Mirroring him, you sat up and cocked your head to the side. “What?”

“Why do they call you firefly?”

A fond smile worked its way up your face, growing the more you thought about the nickname. Staring at the blanket, you worried a loose string between your fingers as you spoke. 

“There’s not much life here on Coruscant, at least not naturally. People, beings, yes. But life…. No. We have a few parks the higher up you go, and at one point, someone tried to introduce wildlife into them. Nothing fancy, just some basic bugs and stuff from various planets so visiting senators could feel a little more at home.”

Grogu snored abruptly, pulling your eyes his way before they turned back to the visor still watching you intently. “I think he’s gone into a food coma.”

Din chuckled, looking at the child before leaning back against the headboard, hands behind his head as he relaxed. “Probably.” After he let out an easy breath, he gestured to you with a quick jut of his chin. “Continue.”

“What? Oh. Yes. Um.” Rolling the thread back and forth once again, you continued. “So anyway, down here, as you can tell from our wonderful and colorful streets here in the Uscru District, they didn’t do anything this low. There aren’t any parks for miles until you get closer to the atmosphere. Something about the ‘quality of air needed for life’, bantha shit because they could have cleaned it up for the citizens but I think they just don’t have a clean up crew brave enough to come down this far-” You took a deep breath.

“Sorry. Not the point. Anyway.” Din chuckled as you went on. “I was a kid, maybe ten? I’d sneak out on the roof to look up at the lanes of traffic overhead, pretend they were shooting stars. Sometimes they’d fly low enough I could just glimpse their clothes, usually brilliant ball gowns most likely headed for the senate or some fantastic party. The opera house is in the upper levels of the district, so more than likely they were headed there. I’d make up little stories for them, narrating what I thought they were saying, kriff, I was a weird kid.” Your palm slammed against your forehead as your chin tucked toward your chest, trying to hide your face.

A gloveless hand wrapped around your wrist, pulling it away gently. “No. That is a weird kid,” Din tilted his head toward Grogu behind him, making you smile. His fingers wove tightly through yours, and he brought your joined hands to rest softly on his knee. “Go on.”

Taking a deep breath, you did. “So one night I was out there, and I saw this trail of light almost like sparks getting closer and closer. Bobbing and weaving through the traffic like it had a mind of its own…. A speeder burst through the cloud and I thought for sure they would finally dissipate, but they sprang back together and kept going. It was like they had come just for me. They came straight to me, and swirled around me in a single line. I was so still, I had no idea what was going on. Of course my mom chose this moment to let me know she’d always known I went on the roof, and she’d always kept an eye on me when I had. She came out and explained what they were. Fireflies. From one of the parks. Once I realized it was something safe, I let my guard down, and I could feel them. There’s a connection with living things through the Force you just can’t mimic no matter how lifelike you make the technology.”

Din’s head was tilted fondly at you when you finally looked back up at him. “So that’s the story. It just kind of stuck.”

“Did you ever see the fireflies again?”

A wide grin broke out on your face. “Every night. They came for weeks. That was when I started really using my abilities for the first time. They offered me a connection to the Force I didn’t feel any other way, and I was able to grab that and focus on it, training my Force muscles, if you will.”

Din was silent for a long moment, and you were pretty sure he’d fallen asleep until he finally mused quietly, “After Tython, we’ll go somewhere with fireflies.”

Xxx

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[ariainstars]

What Makes a Story Satisfying?

This is of course only my own point of view, but it’s an idea that came to me recently. Like: why are some stories so satisfying that we love to read, hear or watch them over and over, and others aren’t?

A good, if not perfect way to make a story satisfying is a plot twist. In order to work, it must fulfil these prerequisites:

happen towards the end of the story

be wholly surprising, even better if “magical” (supernatural)

be connected with love / affection

lead to happiness / fulfilment

Good examples

In Beauty and the Beast, the magical moment takes place because Belle is wholly unaware of the nature of the spell that is being lifted. She is stunned and in awe when everything changes, and so are we.

In Snow White, the dwarfs and the prince do not know that the heroine is not dead but under a spell. Much of the happiness of the finale comes from the fact that her reawakening is a total, wondrous surprise for everybody involved.

In Cinderella, nobody was expecting that the heroine would have the second glass slipper at hand which would identify her as the right girl.

In The Little Mermaid, we do not expect that Ariel’s father will relent at last, much less that he has the power to give her a human form.

In Moon Knight, in Episode 4 Marc finds his alter ego Steven, and despite their earlier bickering they form a strong bond and, in the last two episodes, resolve Marc’s internal trauma together.

In the first classic Star Wars film, Han Solo comes back at the last moment to save his friend Luke. In The Empire Strikes Back, Leia can feel where Luke is so that they can rescue him. In Return of the Jedi, Darth Vader unexpectedly chooses to save his son in the end at the cost of his own life.

In The Last Jedi, Kylo / Ben kills Snoke in the throne room scene instead of Rey. This leads to a dramatic scene in which both young people fight the Imperial Guards together, effectively showing that together, Light Side and Dark Side are invincible.

The first season of The Mandalorian ends with the redemption of Greef Karga, the shady leader of the bounty hunter’s guild, after the mysterious child has healed his deadly wound with the aid of the Force.

The Book of Boba Fett ends with Mando’s unexpected rescue through Grogu, who stops the rancor’s aggression by influencing his mind through the Force.

I am also a huge fan of Star Trek: Deep Space Nine, among other things because its episodes kept surprising the viewer with unexpected, often sudden plot turns. Other Star Trek shows are much more predictable, which is why I usually can’t enjoy them.

The Netflix show Sex Education has some surprising developments and some satisfying ones, but I can’t think of a single one that is both.

The novel (and musical) The Phantom of the Opera ends with the bad guy / protagonist unexpectedly having compassion with the heroine and letting her go after she showed compassion to him in the first place, something he had never known before.

Bad examples

The awakening of Sleeping Beauty is not a surprise for the characters, again leaving the story without the surprise effect.

One of the reasons why I am not a big fan of the Star Wars prequel trilogy is its lack of surprises.

In The Phantom Menace we learn that the handmaiden Padmé is in truth the Queen Amidala of Naboo, but this is not a supernatural turn of events. Qui Gon is killed by Maul, without an explanation except for what we can make of it: young Anakin will be trained by the less experienced and mature Obi-Wan. This is never said anywhere however.

Attack of the Clones and Revenge of the Sith (although I find the latter a small masterpiece) also do not offer real surprises. As fans of the saga, we knew what would happen - Anakin would sire children, then turn to the Dark Side and Palpatine would take over the power over the galaxy.

Rogue One also does not offer any development or plot turn which we would not have already known or expected, and the end is depressing.

In The Clone Wars, the only unexpected development is Ahsoka leaving the Jedi temple; which is only sad and further emphasizes the moral decline of the Jedi Order.

In Ahsoka, Sabine does manage to master the Force in the end, but it leads to an open end.

Ben Solo’s ultimate redemption in The Rise of Skywalker, the only positive aspect to this atrocious movie, is not a plot twist. It happens step by step, not suddenly, and all except but the most dense of viewers already knew or highly suspected that it would happen.

In the tv show Obi-Wan Kenobi, we have Reva’s final decision to not hurt Luke after all: but since this comes out of nowhere, it falls flat.

The Mandalorian season 2 leaves a bitter aftertaste: Luke coming to Mando’s and his friend’s rescue is cool to look at, but it leads to the worst end possible - he separates Mando from Grogu, when the show made it clear from the very first episodes that these two belong together.

And now we come to the really boring part.

The Star Wars sequels, Loki, The Bad Batch, Ahsoka… all these stories offer no twist and no resolution. They introduce characters which we get attached to, and then don’t seem to know how to finish their arc.

Which leads me, in turn, to interpret why most of the latest Disney Star Wars stories suck.

They lead to no end.

There may be some surprise here and there, but it doesn’t have that twist that leaves you with that “Wow” feeling. The heroes are not saved by magic and love and they don’t find fulfilment. All these stories want is for us to continue watching, hoping that some further development will finally give the characters we have grown to love closure.

The problem is that - we don’t live forever, dear Disney studios. Neither do you.

[idungoofed]

Peli’s Wedding!

Din Djarin x Fem

Yeah yeah I know I know the crest is gone but it is alive in my head and how is one meant to get ready for a wedding in a teeny tiny N-1 Starfighter huh? HUH? (I am ignoring your screams for literally anywhere else.)

It’s Peli’s wedding! She’s getting married to Mok Shaiz’s Twi’lek majordomo, (As far as I can see he never got given an official name, and I thought it was funnier to work with that than use a name generator) and you’re invited along with Din and Grogu as well as some other familiar characters. Any wedding traditions I have pulled from my own personal experiences, and weaved it into my very limited knowledge of the Star Wars universe it is what it is. This had been super fun to write, and I hope you all enjoy!

Warnings: Fluff, just so much fluff. Soft!Din, helmet comes off, no use of Y/N, allusions to sex but no actual smut, and some fictional alcohol consumption.

Word count: 3,872

___

“Why do we have to go to this thing again?” Din sighed outside the fresher door, his voice coming out modulated beneath the helmet.

“Stop calling it ‘this thing’! It’s Peli’s wedding/” You say for what felt like the 100th time that day.

“And who’s she getting married to?” Ask’s Din, his tone challenging.

“The Twi’lek guy that used to be Mok Shaiz’s majordomo-“

“You don’t even know his name!” He exclaimed.

You could imagine him outside the door now, finger pointing as he accused you.

He wasn’t wrong, you had no idea what he was called; for some reason that guys name just wouldn’t stick in your head.

But that wasn’t important, you were all going for Peli anyway, and that was that.

It had been a surprise when you got the invite on the holopad, you’d seen Peli since your last visit to Mos Espa but she hadn’t let on she was even dating the Twi’lek, let alone wanting to marry him.

But you weren’t blind, and you saw the spark between them in the aftermath of the Pyke Syndicate showdown and Boba’s rancor destroying half of Mos Espa. They were an unlikely couple with Peli’s fiery nature and no nonsense personality, and his air of grandeur and love of the finer things in life, but you know all too well that opposites attract.

You’d been with Din for just over a year now, after he got you out of a sticky situation with a sore-loser Wookie and a game of sabacc.

Since then you took on the role of baby sitter to his adorable green kid, occasional mechanic, and what you liked to think a giant loveable pain in his arse.

You were a talkative ray of sunshine compared to Dins brooding quietness. (And he realised quickly his menacing, helmed stare had zero effect on quelling your bouts of talkativeness.

He could of gotten rid of you, but he didn’t, because under all his sighing, arm-crossing and unimpressed head tilts at you, he would miss you too much if you were gone. The Crest felt brighter to him with you around, and Din had needed that light when things got dark.

You’d seen Din through some rough times what with losing the kid, getting him back, and then watching the heartbreak of Din giving him up to the Jedi.

You grew closer after that, seeking comfort from the gaping green hole that was left in both your hearts. The simmering attraction between you two seemed to break like a dam, and one night on the Crest, after too many spotchkas and reminiscing of your time with the child, you ended up in a tangle of limbs in Dins small bunk. It was the only good that came of the loss of Grogu- you and Din realising how much more you needed each other now.

Then who showed up in the middle of a war ground in Mos Espa? Grogu. Of course. Saving his father with the force at the last minute once again. Your happy family together and complete.

—

You finished the last few touches of your hair having opting to wear it down for once, and rechecked your make up.

The dress your wore was made of a silky green material that hugged your curves in all the right places. It was the first time you were getting to wear it, having impulsively bought it in a market on Coruscant.

You looked at yourself in the fresher mirror one last time.

“Are you almost done?” Called Din through the door, “We’re going to be late if we don’t-“

His words died in his throat by you pressing the button to open the door.

You stood before him, slightly taller than he was used to with your heels on, and looking more beautiful than he had ever seen you.

Dins silent stare unsettled you, and you started worrying about your appearance, your hand coming up to fiddle with the tendrils of hair around your face.

“What?” You ask, brow crinkling. “Is it too much?”

Din took two slow steps towards you, his body crowding yours. “You look… beautiful.” He said, his hand coming up to cup your face as his other came to the lip of his helmet and pulled it off.

You only caught a glimpse of his handsome face before his lips claimed your own. His hand that was on your face traveled down, landing on your hip, his thumb making small sensual circles.

“You know, we could just go to the evening reception?” He said pulling his lips away. You’d gotten to know the look in his eyes all too well over the past months, and you couldn’t deny it was tempting, but you hadn’t spent the best part of the last hour making yourself up for nothing.

You bring your hands up to his face, and lean in close as if to kiss him, but before your lips connect you pull back. “What? And risk ruining my hair? I don’t think so.”You pat his cheek. “Down boy.” You can’t help the smirk that spreads across your face at the sight of Din rolling his eyes. You duck under his arms out of reach, but not before catching sight of the resigned smile on his face.

You walk over the where Grogu was currently napping, gathering him in your arms and transferring him to his floating crib. He coo’d in his sleep as you fuss over a little ribbon you’d fashioned into a bow tie, and attached to his clothing under his chin.

“Okay, I think we’re ready.” You say when satisfied with the child’s appearance and turn back to Din, his helmet firmly back in place. “Just one thing before we go.”

“What?”

“You really wearing that?” You ask, gesturing to his usual attire of brown flight suit and shiney beskar armour.

Din crosses his arms over his chest, his weight shifting to one leg as his visor stares back at you menacingly.

“Just kidding!” You say as you walk past him and out the shop door, unable to hold in your burst of laughter.

You wouldn’t have him any other way.

__

It doesn’t take long for you and Din to walk to the wedding venue - Peli’s ship yard. Although it was hard to even recognise the place with all the decorations.

The bulk of the yard had been cleared out, which basically meant any ship parts had been pushed to the sides. Streamers were hung from one side of the yard to the next, while colourful flowers adorned the walls and sat in anything that could be used as a container.

In the middle of the yard two rows of chairs sat facing a small makeshift podium adorned with an floral arch. Two pit droids were currently tugging a chair back and forth in an argument over how many were needed for each row.

There were a number of other guests milling around in the yard already, many you didn’t know, however there were a few you did.

The Frog Lady you and Din had helped get to Trask was standing to one side, her husband next to her as their three froglets played at their feet.

You wave at them and as soon as the now awake Grogu spotted them began to fuss in his crib wanting out.

“Okay kid, you can say hi.” You say, picking him up and setting him on the ground, but in an after thought say, “But try keep clean, don’t forget you’re the flower kid!”

“And no trying to eat them.” Din says to Grogu, wagging his finger which earns him a long-suffering look from the green child.

Making the most of a second alone, Din wraps his arms around your waste and pulls you to his chest. “You really do look stunning today, cyar’ika.”

You place you hands on the cool metal of his chest plate, smiling and look up into his visor. “Thank you, Din, you’re looking particularly shiny today.”

He huffs a laugh out at your silly compliment, shaking his head.

You hear your names called from across the yard. You turn and leave Dins embrace, and spot Boba and Fennec walking over to you.

Boba was in his usual attire of green and red Mandalorian armour, although you could tell it had been polished recently and there were fewer dents that usual. Fennec, was attracting stares from the male - and some female, guests. Looking stunning in a black dress, not too dissimilar to her usual attire, it had a practical style with thigh splits for easy movement and where you could see glimpses of multiple weapons holstered, and a high neck and capped sleeves.

“Boba! Fennec!” You greeted them, pushing Boba’s out-stretched hand out the way and going in for a hug, before moving on to Fennec.

He was another man in your life who you refused to let their cold exterior intimidate you. You saw yourself how he coo’d over his rancour; he was a big softie under that beskar.

As the four of you made small talk the droids started gathering the guests towards the empty chairs ready to begin the ceremony.

You turned to get Grogu, who to all appearances was attempting to lick one of the froglets arms.

“Grogu!” You scold, scooping him up, luckily before Frog Lady saw. “Was eating half of their unborn siblings not enough?” You whisper to him.

Grogu stared up at you, the picture of innocence.

“Yeah, you’re lucky you’re so cute.”

___

The ceremony went off without a hitch, Grogu did his job perfectly, leaving a little trail of petals down the isle. Well almost perfectly - he did stuff a few handfuls in his mouth as he went, much to the amusement of guests.

The word beautiful didn’t do Peli justice, she looked straight up bad ass as she strutted down the isle. She wore a white fitted jumpsuit and topped it off with a matching blazer with black lapels. Her curly hair bounced around her face and was adorned with tiny white flowers.

You almost made it through the first set of vows before you crumbled, the joyous emotions of the day finally getting to you. Luckily you weren’t the only one, a Jawa in the opposite row seemed to be taking it pretty hard.

Din glanced at you, doing a double take when he saw your teary eyes. “Mesh’la are you really crying?” He whispered, not unkindly.

You nodded, grabbing the only thing you could to try mop up your face - Dins cape.

He let out an amused sigh next to you. “Do you have to use that? You’re gonna get it all snotty.”

“I just love love, you know?! Look at them, they’re just so happy together!” You hiccup, eyes on the bride and groom.

Din didn’t take his eyes from your face, bringing his hand up he caught a stray tear on your cheek with a gloved finger. “Yeah, they really are.”

__

Confetti showers around you as Peli walks back down the isle, hand in hand with her new husband. You still didn’t know his name as Grogu let out a loud gurgle during the vows causing you to miss it again.

Grogu squeals on Dins lap as he tries to catch the paper flecks in his tiny hands.

You hadn’t been able to stem your tears yet, you couldn’t help it - weddings just made you feel all gooey and emotional with love

Din wraps his arm around you. “Did you see Peli slip him the tongue?”

You laugh-sob and dab at your eyes with Din’s cloak still clutched in your hands. “Yeah” You say, sniffing. “It was beautiful.”

You hear a modulated huff of a laugh in your ear as Din lowers his head down to bump gently against yours in a chaste keldabe kiss.

__

The evening reception started with the bride and grooms first dance. Peli led her Majordomo on to the dance floor and then proceeded to lead in the dance as well. It was typical Peli, but her new husband didn’t seem to mind.

You adored watching them glide across the floor to the music, eyes only for each other. It was beautiful, but turned slightly awkward when they unabashedly started making out, Peli’s hands making their way south to grip her new husbands butt.

The other guests that had been watching started finding their feet or the decorations above very interesting, and you took that as your cue to take Grogu back to his crib.

The music wound down as you stepped away with Din behind you, but before you could go far you heard Peli screech your name.

“Where are you going missy?! I’m about to chuck this thing and I need you front and centre!” She called to you, waving her bridal bouquet in the air.

You turned back around, eyes darting between Peli and Din. It’s not like you didn’t want to join in, you loved wedding traditions, but this one? You loved Din, and knew he loved you - you’d told each other as much when your relationship shifted from friendship to more, and although of course you wanted to be more - Din’s riduur, you didn’t want to feel like you were forcing the idea on to him.

Before you could make your next move, Din stepped in front of you and plucked Grogu from your arms.

He leaned in close to you. “You better not keep the bride waiting.”

You looked up him, your brows knitted together. “You know what this tradition means right?” You ask.

Din simply nods his head and nudges you forward. You didn’t catch what he whispered to Grogu after.

A grin stretches across your face as his words sink in. You jut your chin forward and straighten your shoulders, and with an air of confidence take your place among the small crowd of other female guests.

Peli tosses the bouquet over her head, and you’re jostled by the women around you, getting pushed towards the back of the group. Peli had over-shot, the flowers on course to tumble over your heads. However just as you thought it was going to pass you by, it seemed to hit an invisible wall, stopping it in its tracks, and causing it to tumble down into your waiting hand.

You raise the bouquet over your head victoriously, while the other females groaned in disappointment. Your eyes find Din, and you excitedly skip over to him.

You can hear his husky laugh as you reach him. “That’s my girl.”

“You know some would call that cheating.” You say not in the least bit mad about it, and then ruffle the top of Grogu’s head. “Thanks little guy.”

“So Mando! I guess it’s your turn next!” Taunts Peli good-naturedly from behind you.

Din looks down at you through his visor, and although you couldn’t see it, a smile was forming on his handsome face. “I guess it is.”

___

The party was in full swing, the band from the local cantina playing up-beat numbers that have you wiggling your shoulders and tapping your feet in your chair. The dance floor was starting to fill up with people throwing shapes.

“Okay I’m going in.” You say downing the last of your drink and turning to Din. “Fancy joining me?”

“You know I don’t dance.”

“Oh come on, just one? Please?” You plead, it wasn’t as fun dancing on your own, and Grogu was fast asleep again in his crib.

“No. I’ll watch.” Said Din, and you knew there was no point in begging by the finality of his tone.

“Fine.” You huff and shimmy towards the dance floor. You turn and try once more to change your Mandalorians mind, swinging and catching him with an invisible lasso, but he just crosses his arms and shakes his helmed head, so you shrug and dive into the crowd.

__

You come back to the table a few times, the first to kick your heels of, and then only in quick visits to gulp at your drink in an attempt to cool down before darting off again.

“Instead of staring at her longingly why don’t you ask her to dance?” Said Boba across the table from Din, which was littered with party poppers and empty glasses.

“I can’t dance.” Replied Din matter of factly.

“I don’t think she cares, Mando, I’ve seen the way she looks at you. She’s turned down every male here who’s asked her to dance, she only wants you.”

Din looked from Boba and back to you, as you hold your nose and mime going under water with the Frog Lady and Peli.

He sighs heavily, knowing Boba was right, and pushes himself up from the chair to head towards you. As he does the song changes to a slower number, and he watches as Frog Lady and Peli pair off with their husbands.

You stand there, looking around at the different couples pairing off to dance together, and are unable to stop the pang of jealousy. You turn, deciding you better go back to the table to wait the slow dance out. Although as you do, you almost walk straight into Din.

“Will you dance with me, mesh’la?” He asks, his voice only loud enough for you to hear.

The smile that lights up your face makes Din wish he asked you sooner. He places his hands on your hips as you wrap yours around his neck, resting your head against his chest plate, and start to gently sway to the music.

Din says your name. “I’m sorry I can’t dance.”

You look up to him and follow where his visor is pointed - at the Frog Lady and her husband who were gracefully pirouetting around the dance floor.

You bring your fingers to the side of his helmet, turning his face to yours. “Hey, I don’t care about that, just having you here is enough, I love you Din, a few bad dance moves won’t change that.” You finish with a smirk.

Your Mandalorians shoulders judder under your arms as he lets out a chuckle. “I love you too cyar’ika.” He said, lowering his head to yours.

___

As the evening winds down to an end, you bid goodnight to Boba and Fennec who were finishing off another bottle of spotchka - those two could drink, and wave goodbye to Frog Lady.

The bride and groom had disappeared into Peli’s office a while ago, and you were /not/ about to interrupt them. You didn’t need that image burned into your brain.

You both approached the Crest arm in arm with Grogu still fast asleep in his crib floating in front of you.

“I’m not quite tired just yet, I’m going to look at the stars from the roof.” You say, entering the ship.

“No!” Din busts out, causing you to snatch your hand away from the ladder you were about to climb.

He clears his throat, tripping over his words. “It’s just… I… Grogu wants you to put him to bed!”

You raise an eyebrow, and look over at Grogu. “But he’s not even awake-“

“He told me earlier.” Din says, dashing to the ladder and disappearing through the hatch.

“Ohh-kay.” You say completely bewildered. Told him? How?

When you carry Grogu to the his little hammock he wakes briefly, wining at the disturbance, but he quickly settled back down into the nest of blankets you create for him. All the while you can hear Dins heavy footsteps moving around above you, at one point hearing something skitter across the floor and a resulting, “Dank Farrik!”.

After you hear him climb the second ladder to the ships roof you double check Grogu is asleep, stop by the fresher and then head on up.

Your head breaches the hatch and your eyes widen at the sight before you. Candle’s flicker on the roof, their soft light glinting off the metal exterior and the armour of the man standing before you. His helmet is discarded at his feet next to Peli’s bridal bouquet.

“Din? What’s-“

“Come here, mesh’la.” He says, his voice soft and his hands reaching for you.

You move toward him, picking out a path through the candles, and when you’re in front of him he takes your hands in his. He’d removed his gloves and his hands were soft and warm against your own.

“I’ve been wanting to tell you… ask you something for a while now, I just didn’t know how yet.” He says, voice hushed as he studies your entwined hands.

You blink up at him, waiting for him to reveal where he was going with this.

He breaths your name, and looks up into your eyes. You swallow down a gasp at the raw emotion behind them.

“You’ve been the brightest star in my night sky, if I didn’t have you by my side after Grogu left… I don’t think I would of gotten through the heartbreak.”

You open your mouth but he shakes his head as to say he’s not finished. “You held me together, and didn’t stop or let go even when he came back. You’re a part of our family… and, if you’d like, I’d like if you were a part of our clan too.”

Your eyes are brimming with tears at his confession, your heart so full you feel you’d be able to see it thudding in your chest. “What do you want to ask me, Din?” You say barely above a whisper.

“Will you be my riduur?”

You’re only able to utter a simple “Yes.” before Din’s mouth crashes down to your own. You kiss him back with equal passion, tears spill over as you close your eyes and relinquish yourself to him. There’s so many things you want to say that you instead pour into the kiss. How much you love him too, how long you’ve wanted him to utter them words, and how complete it makes you feel to be officially wanted as a part of their clan.

You break the kiss to catch your breath, and Din’s fingers swipe at the tear tracks on your cheeks.

“Don’t cry, sweet girl.”

“Sorry, I just love-“

“Love.” He finishes for you, chuckling. “I know.”

Din takes leads you to the blanket you hadn’t yet noticed under the candles, and you both settle down on it, lying back with you snuggled under Din’s arm, head resting on his broad chest.

“Did I tell you how beautiful you look tonight?” Asks Din.

“You might of mentioned it once or twice.” You answer playfully.

“Hmm, not nearly enough then.” He says, holding you tighter.

You glance over to his other side where his helmet sits next to the flowers, and a thought clicks in your head.

“Peli was totally in on this wasn’t she?” You ask, hearing laughter rumble through Din.

“She might of helped.” He admits.

You both break into laughter, clinging to each other, your future together spread out under a blanket of starlight and Tatooines three moons hanging full in the night sky above.

__

Thanks for reading!💕

Don’t mind me just tagging some lovelies: @insomniamamma @heythere-mel @whataenginerd @mildlyhopeless

[mandoalorian]

I'll See You Again, I Promise [Din Djarin x Reader]

!! SPOILERS FOR THE MANDALORIAN SEASON 2 FINALE. DISCRETION ADVISED. !!

Author's note: Spoilers for the Season 2 finale of the Mandalorian. Just like last time, I wrote this in three hours. The episode literally came out three hours ago. I'm so thankful for how many people liked my one shot based around last week's episode— and as promised, this is a continuation of this week's episode (the season finale). You don't have to read the previous part in order to understand this, but if you wish to read it you can find it here.

Masterlist

Rating: PG-13

Word count: 2k

Permanent taglist - let me know if you want to be added: @supernaturalgirl @phoenixhalliwell @ah-callie @luvzoria @stardust-galaxies @wickedfrsgrl @goth-topic @nerdypinupcrystal @wonderfulfluffer @kiwi-the-first @pedroepascal @castiel-barnes @honeymandos @rocketqueen @ladycumberbatchofcamelot @dybalalover10 @girl-obsessed-with-things @elena-myth

Taglist for this part: @pro-fangirls-unsocial-life @dantakuart @yikesdameron @artsyzartsi @karnita-mexicana @multifandomfollower @saavikchekov @what-is-life-in-general @karnita-mexicana @pcrushinnerd @tillytheslytherin @jedinerd27 @queenofspades20

Din Djarin taglist: @alecdamndario0

gif by @cavill-henry

When you saw Din return, holding the child in one hand, and the ancient Mandalorian weapon in the other hand, relief washed over you. Your whole body deflated and you let out a sigh you didn't even know you were holding in.

"Where are the others?" Din asked, his voice gruff as he pushed a binded Moff Gideon to the ground. You gasped when your eyes met with the ex-ISB officer who you knew had given Din so much trauma and hurt. There was a dark and menacing glint in his eyes that you could see right through.

"With Boba on the ship. They didn't think you'd come back," you admitted sheepishly, biting your lip as you cautiously looked back up at Din. "But I believed in you." You desperately tried to search through his visor and locate his brown eyes.

You wanted to cry; your little family had been restored. Grogu had been rescued. You were once more a clan of three. And now, things could be different. You had seen the beauty that was hidden beneath the beskar. You had seen Din for who he really was. You imagined starting a new life with him and the Child, far far away and out of any danger. You could be happy. Of course, you had to deal with Moff Gideon first.

You took a step closer to Din, breaking any remaining distance and placing a hand on his chest. "I'm so glad you're safe." Din revealed with a shaky exhale as you caressed the child. You wanted nothing more than to curl up into his arms and tell him how much you loved him, how proud you were. Grogu was so lucky to have a father as loving as Din.

"We can leave now," you smiled weakly. "We can be free. Go to the lake county on Naboo and start a new life. Live in peace." You had half forgotten Moff Gideon was even there. You just wanted to live in the moment with Din. All you could see was the love of your life holding his child. Everything else in your peripheral vision was a blur. It didn't matter.

"How cute," Moff Gideon's lips curled into a snarl. "The Mandalorian has a lover? What an unexpected twist of events." Din knocked Gideon to the ground the second those malicious words left his mouth, leaving him doubled over and grumbling in pain.

"We don't have time to stick around, we have to go." Din told you, grabbing your hand and interlocking his gloved fingers with yours. You were ready. You were so ready to leave this life behind and be with Din and Grogu forever. It was the happily ever after you knew Din deserved more than anyone else in the galaxy. Before the blast doors could open, the nav system began to beep hysterically, illustrating that a single light Starfighter was boarding the same Imperial cruiser you and your little family were on.

"It's an X-Wing…" you were rendered speechless. Din considered who it might have been. Had Cara comm’d the New Republic from the ship? If so, why was it only just one fighter? Could it have been the likes of Trapper Wolf who had granted Din a favour back when he encountered trouble on the ice planet of Maldo Kreis? Din was truly clueless.

Grogu began to coo and shuffle around, prompting Din to carefully place his son on the floor. Grogu waddled over to you by the terminal, gargling and pointing his finger up at one of the screens. "What is it buddy?" you asked, leaning down and picking up Grogu. Grogu guided you to the CCTV where you saw a cloaked figure emerge from the X-Wing and ignite a lightsaber. Your heart stopped. "Din…" you said nervously, your grip tightening around Grogu defensively. "You might want to see this."

Din approached the small screen and looked closely. "A Jedi?" he asked, although it almost sounded rhetorical. He looked back at Grogu who was already staring up at him. "Did you… did you bring him here?" Din asked the child, his voice breaking slightly. Grogu made a small and indistinguishable noise in response.

"No," you placed a hand on Din's shoulder with comfort. "No, Grogu wouldn't…" you reassured him.

"The seeing stone," Din deadpanned, his gaze not tearing from his son once. He remembered Ahsoka Tano's words. "Grogu reached out with the force and if a Jedi felt his presence, they'd come looking for him," Din turned to you, his body stiff and his voice shallow. "And they've come."

Your lips parted slightly as you turned back to the screen, watching as the mysterious figure roamed through the halls of the Imperial cruiser. Part of you deep down knew that Din was right. It was the only plausable explanation, but that didn't mean you wanted it to happen. You knew it wouldn't be long until you were found.

"Din, let's go," you said with teary eyes, feeling your anxiety bubble up in your stomach. "Please Din? Can we just go."

Din clenched his fingers into a fist. "No." he said sternly, his voice returning back to being gruff and modulated. He was doing what he always did when fear consumed him. He'd shut himself out and go into hunter/protector mode. He'd become the fighter he was trained to be since he was just a young boy.

"Din." you hated the way his name fell from your tongue, sounding needy and desperate, but you were just as afraid. You didn't want to stay any longer. You had what you needed; Din and the child. You didn't need anything else. You could go now.

Din picked up Grogu and nursed him in his arms, holding him close to his chest. Just like always, Grogu curled up into his father, taking comfort in feeling his beating heart, learning the true feeling of unconditional familial love.

The blast doors shot open and the cloaked figure entered the room. Your fingers dropped to the blaster in your holster as he approached you both. The man put his lightsaber away, signifying surrender, and pulled down his hood, revealing himself. He looked slightly older than you, with pale skin with mousy brown hair. He looked like he had seen a lot in his lifetime.

"Are you a Jedi?" Din asked eventually, breaking the silence through the need of confirmation.

"Yes, my name is Luke Skywalker," he introduced with a small nod. You recognised that name… Skywalker, perhaps from old tales, the likes of myths and folk stories. You didn't spend long contemplating the mystery man's identity. There were more pressing matters at hand and so you opted to brush it off completely. "I have come for the child," Luke announced and Grogu turned from Din, his ears cocking at the mention of him and looked at the man with curiosity. "Hello little one." Luke smiled.

Grogu cooed in response before turning back to his father with big pleading eyes. "He doesn't want to go with you." Din gulped, his heart aching. There was no way to be sure, Din could never know exactly what Grogu wanted. But he was aware of the bond he had with his son, now more than ever he was aware. He knew that there was no way his son would want to leave him. Din loved Grogu. Din loved Grogu with every inch of his being.

"He wants your permission." Luke explained, and Din turned back to look at the little green bean in his arms. His… permission? "He is incredibly strong with the force and without learning how to utiIize his powers he can become a danger to those around him… and a danger to himself. It's important that he understands the nature of the power he possesses."

Luke's words became a blundered fuzz in the back of your mind. This was Grogu— this was Din's little boy. When Din looked into Grogu's eyes, he saw nothing but memories. From the pair of them sipping spotchka, to chasing frogs and playing in the hull of the Razor Crest, everything just felt so distant. Din took a deep breath, his finger softly brushing against Grogu's cheek.

"Hey go on… he's one of your kind," Din winced at his own words. One of your kind— something the Armourer had implanted in Din's head all those months ago. "I'll see you again. I promise."

You felt your heart shatter in your chest. This… wasn't meant to happen. It wasn't meant to end up like this. You wanted to speak, you wanted to say something and put a stop to this absurdity. You knew better than anyone that Din needed Grogu and Grogu needed Din. It felt like your throat had closed up, like you could hardly breathe. All you could do was stand there and watch it play out.

Grogu reached up with a small wail, his green claw tracing the curves and ridges of Din's beskar helmet.

Din knew exactly what his son wanted, and right now, Din was certain he wanted it too. Just for once, he wanted to look at his son with his own eyes. Not the eyes blinded by his visor blade, Din wanted the child to know his face. Recognise him. With a hiss and a click, Din removed his helmet. You swore your heart stopped upon seeing him again. Brown eyes, but this time they were glazed with tears and there was nothing you could do about it.

Grogu reached back up and rested his claw over Din's jaw. Subconsciously, Din leaned his cheek into Grogu's hand, never wanting to pull away from his touch. His heart was broken beyond repair.

"All right pal," Din rasped. "It's time to go." He didn't want this. He couldn't do this. But he had to. He had to be strong for his son. He had to be a good father. "Don't be afraid." Was Din's final words to his son.

He placed Grogu down carefully and nodded towards Luke, accepting his fate. Grogu clutched onto Din's leg, not wanting to let go. His little mind was racing with wonder— why can't his daddy come with him? Why must he go alone? The erratic beeps of a white and blue astromech droid were what eventually tore the curious child from his father. Grogu waddled towards the droid and Luke picked him up.

No matter how hard he tried, Din couldn't seem to swallow the lump in his throat. Everything Din had done so far had led up to the moment, and he wanted to curse himself for letting it affect him this much. He should've been prepared. It's just, he really didn't think this would happen. He really didn't think Grogu would want to leave.

He didn't blame the child of course. He could never blame the child. He just wished he understood. Just before the doors to the elevator closed, Luke spoke up. Unfazed, unbroken. "May the force be with you." he wished. Din ignored the comment. It meant nothing to him. Nothing meant anything anymore. No meaning, no purpose. Luke tapped the key that would shut the doors and Din offered his son once last nod, trying his hardest to break out an impossible smile. When the doors finally closed, Din let out a choked sob and fell to his knees.

You sprinted over to Din, kneeling down and pulling him into you. He cried, hot salty tears falling from his brown eyes and dripping down his face. You pulled his head into your lap and smoothed out his hair trying your hardest to lull him. But you couldn't. You couldn't even bring yourself to comfort him. Your shoulders curled in and you fell limp, whimpering into his hair. You felt completely broken. Grogu was like a son to you, and you cherished him so very much. You couldn't even imagine how Din was feeling.

His little family was no more but he knew that Grogu was going to go on to do bigger and better things. No matter what, Grogu was going to make Din proud.

[darkisrising]

Rain, by DarkIsRising

Rain (Weather series pt1)

The first time Luke felt a pressure drop before a thunderstorm, he’d thought it was something to do with the Force. He’d been on Dagobah lifting Master Yoda in the air while balancing in a handstand that wobbled more and more with every passing minute when he’d noticed the change. A creeping cold that stole across his skin leaving a slight shiver in its wake. The sudden realization that the swamp had gone silent, all the creatures that had been stirring the marsh grasses and battering the trunks of trees in search of insects to eat were still—gone into hiding—as if they knew something he did not.

Then the rain had started, great gouts of it, and he’d yelped as he fell out of his position, sending his master down with an unceremonious thud.

“Is this the Darkside?” he’d called, yelling to be heard over the thick raindrops that pelted from the sky, eyes stinging with the ones that caught in his eyelashes and ran in rivers from his hair.

Master Yoda had only laughed at his bewildered pupil, taking pity on him as he explained: “A rainstorm it is, young Skywalker. Come. Back to my home we shall go.”

By the time they got back to the hovel his master called home, thunder was rumbling the humble walls and lightning was crackling sideways, casting strange shapes through the shadows. Luke had shivered, clutching a tattered blanket around his shoulders, as he wondered how something that could be so necessary for life could be so destructive and angry.

Yavin 4's rainstorms are a bit like that.

"It's okay, little one," Luke soothes as Grogu buries his face in his master’s side, little claws clutching his black cloak tight as another roll of thunder shakes the temple’s ancient walls. "We're safe in here."

Artoo clicks out a question, the gentle beeps of binary barely audible over the sound of rain as it pounds against ceiling and ground, echoing through the tall, cavernous halls. This isn’t the most inviting place to bring a youngling, but it’s where Luke has been living since Leia had officially removed him from any and all New Republic business with strict orders not to show his face around the senate until he had a rebuilt Jedi order to show for himself, and Luke—who’d been drowning in requests he could never say no to to aid the fledgling governmental body, even if it meant neglecting the one thing he felt most called to do—had been so relieved he’d kissed her on the cheek and swore he’d never loved her more than at that very instant.  

He’d come to Yavin 4 with dreams—visions, really—of a school of padawans; a collection of Force users who lived and learned in a place that breathed with life and resonated with the deep spiritual memories of their shared Jedi past.

Instead what he’d gotten was a dismayingly large temple whose ceilings have been giving way with increasing frequency and whose planet’s wet season howled with menace; one terrified, preverbal fifty-year-old padawan; one astromech fretting over the interrupted sleep cycles of sentient beings; and one Jedi master very much out of his depth.

Lightning cracks like an electro-whip and the thunder that comes a half click later is nearly on top of them, rattling the temple with a fury that sends Grogu even deeper into Luke’s side. 

“You’re alright, we’re fine.” Luke lets his voice turn soft and nonsensical like Aunt Beru had murmured when he’d been a kid waking up the homestead with his nightmares of blue lightning and death-white hands that he knows now had been whispers of the future. 

Bringing his ungloved hand up, Luke can pick up traces of Grogu’s thoughts as his palm curls around the delicate curve of the shivering child’s head. They aren’t much more than snatches of moments but Luke knows they are memories by the taste of them. There is a cramped darkness and outside of it are guttural howls and grunts of pain and the wet snick of breath leaving the lungs of the dying. There are the pings of blaster bolts and the clash of metal on metal and something that whistles through the air like birds. More than anything there is fear—so much fear—and worry for the big man with gentle hands and the silver helmet.

Luke has spent too many days wading through excited chatter not to recognize the Mandalorian that had taken Grogu in as his own only to let him go. 

And there are plenty of reasons in the sobering light of day why Luke shouldn’t—why he told himself he couldn’t—let this attachment of Grogu’s linger. The texts he’s unearthed and the few beings he’s found who remember the Jedi all agree that there were strict rules about this sort of thing. Rules that could see a Jedi expelled from the Order if broken. Rules that he suspects his very birth had violated, so perhaps no one can appreciate the reasons behind those rules more than he who has seen the twisted, broken man that his father had become. 

Still.

Still, he’d asked Han weeks ago if he might know someone that knew someone that knew a Mandalorian with unpainted armor. And if that person could get him a comm code which Luke has kept tucked away—just in case—though in case of what he can’t say.  

Outside the thunder roars and beneath his hand Grogu shakes and maybe this is why he’d done it. 

“Come here, young one. Let’s see if this works.” Luke couldn’t bring himself to try the code when he’d gotten it, and he doesn’t want to get the child’s hopes up by giving voice to the thing he’s about to attempt in case there is nothing but static on the other end.

“Yeah?” a husky voice answers, tinny from a vocoder, and Luke can tell by the swivel of green ears and the widening of dark eyes that Han’s contacts had gotten it right.

“Hey.” Luke starts and then falters. He licks his lips, suddenly at a loss for words but Grogu is chattering all at once and his excitement is infectious enough that Luke finds himself laughing as pointed green claws grab for the comm in his hand.

On the other end a breath is sucked in, fast and tight, and then the Mandalorian says in breathy wonderment “Kid? Is that you?”

“Yeah. Yeah he’s here,” Luke says, more confident now. “Having a bit of a bad night, though, and I thought maybe talking to you might help. Do you have holo capabilities where you are?”

“I do, hold on. Let me just—” his voice wanders off as buttons are pushed and the familiar hum of a ship’s console powers on. “I was asleep, just give me a minute to find everything.” 

“Oh! I’m sorry we disturbed you—”

“No,” comes the answer, quicker than the cracking lightning and the whipping winds and the falling rain, “No, didn’t disturb me at all.”

A blue holo flickers on, cutting through the temple darkness. It’s staticky from the distance and the weather, but Grogu trills as excited as if the Mandalorian had appeared in front of him in the flesh.

Luke adjusts the angle until their end catches where the youngling is sitting on Luke’s knee and the Mandalorian’s helmet tilts to the side at an inquisitive angle. “Hey there,” he says voice unsteady, or maybe that’s just the bad connection. “It’s been a while, huh?”

Leaning back in his seat, Luke closes his eyes and lets the rise and fall of conversation between two beings that have invented their own language fall over him, strange and wonderful, and for the first time in a long time he feels like he’s made the right call.

[thishintoflove]

For the bobadin prompts; maybe something angsty with a little fluff?

I feel like a lot of fics don’t do enough exploration into the ‘caring Boba’ side - the one that decided ‘I’m just gonna help this random stranger save their child because why not?’ - and it always warms my heart when I find a fic that does.

Oh I feel the same way, anon! Don’t get me wrong, I love rough!Boba fics but I also truly believe that the man has a deep, caring side too. 

Here’s some soft!Boba helping Din during an anxiety attack, shortly after losing Grogu on Tython.

Boba Fett decided that he needed more information. 

The Slave I was on autopilot, headed to Nevarro at the request of the silver Mandalorian. Fennec was off somewhere in the ship, probably polishing her weapons, and Boba decided to go track down Mando. They’d barely exchanged more than a few sentences, but here he was, piloting his ship at the direction of some Mandalorian he’d just met all because he’d willingly given Boba his armor back. 

Bounty hunters lived in a world of exchanges: everything came with a price and Boba always paid his debts. The feeling of pure relief he felt at putting his father’s armor on again was so strong that the least he could do was help this fellow bounty hunter out. 

He shook his head as he quietly made his way through the passageways of his ship. No, it was more than that. If he was being honest with himself, he felt some deep, innate need to help the silver Mando due to his unique situation. He was a father and his child had been stolen. Instinct took over when Boba realized the situation, and he’d immediately offered his services to help the guy out because the mere thought of walking away knowing that he did nothing would have driven him mad with guilt. How could he purposely leave a child in the same situation that he himself had been left in? Boba Fett was not a man to leave a child fatherless when there was something he could do to help the situation. Apparently that meant he’d offer his ship and his services without thinking twice, all because the thought of separating a father and son made his stomach churn with unaddressed feelings. 

And now here he was, serving as a taxi service and a hired hand to a Mandalorian he didn’t really know or trust yet. So he needed more information. Surely Mando would be able to explain the whole situation, and then Boba could feel better about what he was doing instead of just feeling like a bit of a sucker. 

Boba climbed down the ladder into the cargo hold and immediately picked up on the sound of heavy, modulated breathing. He quietly moved toward the sound and peered among the crates to see Mando doubled over, his hand gripping at the beskar chest plate as he tried to control his rapid breaths. 

What was going on? Was Mando injured? He hadn’t seen any blood as they’d boarded the ship. Boba quickly ran through every single possibility that might have brought on this clear anguish that Mando was experiencing, and he quickly came to the obvious conclusion: the man was having a panic attack. 

Slowly, Boba approached the hyperventilating man and cautiously called out so that he wouldn’t frighten him,

“Mando? It’s Fett. Are you alright?”

It didn’t work and the man jumped anyway. He quickly whipped around and stared at Boba through his visor, one hand immediately going to the blaster on his hip. But the movement seemed to be too much for him and he wavered, gripping the edge of the crate to hold himself up. Boba quickly stepped forward and grabbed Mando’s shoulder, squeezing it in his strong grip as he helped the man sit down on the edge of the box. The gesture was meant to ground the other man, and he hoped he could convey a sense of calmness through the touch rather than frighten the man even more. A visible shudder rippled along Mando’s arms, down his chest, and through his entire body. After a few seconds, he was finally capable of taking a full breath.

“That’s right. Try to take deep breaths, my friend. In through the nose, out through the mouth.” Boba coaxed, hoping his presence was helping Mando and not adding to his stress. 

He knew what it was like to feel small and desperately alone. Being a bounty hunter was a solo profession- there was no room for long-term relationships or building bonds with others. After all his years traversing the galaxy alone, Boba was self-aware enough to know that he didn’t react to kindness and touch in the same way that most people did. He assumed Mando was the same way. The armor they both wore put out a menacing image to others, but it didn’t change the feelings of the person inside it. They were both human, and sometimes humans needed to feel like they weren’t alone in the world. 

“It’s alright, you’re safe here,” Boba continued, speaking softly as he tried to think of what he’d like to hear if he was in this situation. He’d learned the steps necessary to regain control of his mind and body under the worst of situations and he hoped his methods would work on Mando too. “You’re safe. Take all the time you need.” 

Still sitting down, Mando’s hand landed on top of Boba’s that was settled on his shoulder. He kept his head tucked down toward his chest, still concentrating on his breathing, but his hand squeezed Boba’s in recognition and gratitude. They stayed in the same position for what seemed like an eternity before Mando finally drew his head up and turned to look at Boba through his helmet.  

“Thank you,” he whispered, his voice so small and tight that Boba could practically hear the tears in his eyes, even if he couldn’t see them. 

Mando’s other hand found its place on Boba’s forearm. While holding on tightly, the younger man emanated the gratefulness he felt at Boba’s touch. Honestly, Boba was surprised that it seemed to work so well. He wasn’t exactly known for his emotional intuition, but he was pleased he was capable of calming and resetting Mando. It confirmed his suspicion that they were more alike than he originally thought.  

“How are you feeling? Are you alright?” he asked, trying to keep his voice even but a hint of worry floated beneath it.

Mando swallowed hard before answering, “I am now. Whatever you did or are doing... it’s helping.” 

He took another deep breath, still trying to regain complete control. Boba slowly ran his hand down from Mando’s shoulder toward his lower arm, preparing to pull away, but as Mando felt him withdraw he rushed to grab his hand back, ensuring they maintained contact. Boba was surprised- expecting that Mando would want the physical contact to end as soon as possible. But maybe the man was finally being honest with himself and his own needs. It’d certainly taken Boba a long time to do the same thing, and he knew this probably wasn’t easy for Mando. If the man was asking for comfort via touch, Boba was not about to deny him. 

Mando grabbed onto his retreating hand, while the other hand gripped Boba’s forearm even tighter. Boba merely nodded and squeezed back, hoping to reassure the fragile man. 

“Please… don’t leave yet,” Mando said quietly. His voice was almost pleading, surprising Boba once again. He was pleased that Mando seemed to recognize that he would not judge, ridicule or shame him for his current weakened state. There was a new feeling in the pit of his stomach too- a gratifying, contented sensation that seemed to bloom when Mando admitted he needed him. 

“Don’t worry,” he whispered, slowly reaching up to rub the back of the other man’s neck, “I’ll stay.”

Mando hummed and let his head fall forward again, and Boba imagined his eyes falling shut in relief. Boba massaged Mando’s neck, trying to stay focused on comforting the younger man while ignoring the new feelings growing in his own chest. He realized he wanted to take care of him. He’d never felt such an immediate desire to protect someone before. Now was certainly not the time to dwell too deeply on that, but later Boba would reflect on the satisfaction he felt at being needed. 

He watched Mando’s hands clench and unclench, and finally the man tried to speak again, “I’m not usually… I never…”

“You don’t have to explain yourself to me,” Boba replied, “Especially not now. I know you’re hurting.”

Mando nodded, but he glanced up at the ceiling of the ship and spoke anyway, “I had one job. One mission: to protect him. And I failed.”

His body began to shiver again, and Boba moved to sit beside him, wrapping one strong arm around the other man’s shoulders as he continued. “I failed him, and now he could be hurt or… or worse…”

“You haven’t failed him,” Boba said sternly, “A terrible accident occurred today, but you haven’t failed him and you won’t fail him.”

“But the Moff-”

“Do you want to get him back?” Boba asked, knowing the answer but wanting Mando to say it outloud. 

“More than anything,” Mando replied without hesitation. 

“Then we will. We will find him and we will get him back to you.”

Hearing the conviction in his voice must have helped, because Mando finally slumped against him, practically collapsing into Boba’s side. It was more physical contact than Boba had received in months, and he was surprised at how normal it felt-- as if it were the most natural thing in the world for this random Mandalorian to slot into his side like a puzzle piece. 

“Today, you’ve done enough,” Boba told him, hoping to keep the tension from creeping back into the other man, “There’s nothing else we can do until we reach Nevarro.”

Mando was silent, so Boba continued, “Say it with me. You’ve done enough.”

“I’ve done enough.”

Boba let out a pleased hum when Mando obeyed him. He even managed to sound sure of himself, which was definitely a step in the right direction. Boba reached down and patted the man’s knee with the hand that wasn’t still wrapped around his shoulders. He heard Mando sigh, just the softest of sounds, and Boba wished he knew what the man looked like so that he could properly imagine the way his lips parted at the sound. 

“I don’t know how to repay you. For taking me to Nevarro and for… this.” Mando said, sounding a bit more like his normal self.

“You do not need to repay me,” Boba told him, meaning every word. For once in his long life, he truly didn’t want anything in return. All he wanted was to make this strange yet familiar Mandolorian happy again. Maybe it was because he saw himself reflected in the younger man or maybe it was something more, but all that mattered was that Boba Fett was now dedicated to helping him find the foundling. 

”I will stay as long as you need me.”

[nerdingoutonmain]

I am in love with the idea that Grogu is a happy little menace. Here's part of a wip that showcases that.

The doors to the salon burst open and a blob of water floated through the air closely followed by Grogu, stark naked and attention singularly on the alarmingly large amount of water. Din and the visitor paused mid-sentence, for what can one say when one is confronted with a force-sensitive child who has clearly escaped the bath and brought it with him? Luke scurried in behind the giggling child, his light-colored clothes completely soaked. Din tried not to get distracted by the way Luke’s shirt clung to his biceps and focused instead on the situation as a whole. Luke dove forward, scooping the child up in a fluffy towel and clearly taking over control of the floating water. Din could tell Grogu had relinquished control because the edges had stopped shifting and trembling as though the whole thing could come crashing down at any point. Din’s visitor clearly had not noticed the takeover. As Luke crouched with the cocooned Grogu on his lap, they shifted farther back into their chair as if doing so could save them from the potential splash zone of such a large amount of water. “Do you need to take care of this?” Their calm question belied their terror at the thought that they might become as soaked as Luke. “I don’t see why I would need to,” Din cocked his head to the side, helmet as inscrutable as ever. “Unless you’re insinuating my spouse can’t handle our child.” The threat behind his words went unspoken, but the visitor heard it anyway. “No, Mand’alor. It seems like he’s doing just fine on his own.” They began to fuss with the tray of finger foods that had been set out before them when it became clear that Din was neither going to rush Luke through his teachable moment with Grogu, or relocate the meeting.

Luke, for his part, was hiding his frustration well. He had full control of the bathtub full of water that, save for what got dumped on his head, Grogu had used the force to carry into the salon with the intent of soaking his Buir and the visitor. Luke suspected it was Grogu’s way of helping out. Reaching out with the Force, he asked Why did you bring the water in here? Grogu shared images and feelings that amounted to him telling Luke that Buir was unhappy with having to meet the visitor and it might be funny to see them fuss about being all wet. Luke switched to speaking out loud for Din’s and the visitor’s benefit. “Grogu, you can’t just throw water at people who aren’t expecting it. Think about when you are playing with the other children at the fountain in the square. Do you want to be pushed in unexpectedly?” Grogu’s ears drooped at the thought as he swiveled his head to rest his large eyes on Din. He shook his head along with sending the answer to Luke through the Force. No. That doesn’t sound fun. 

“Then maybe we can find something better to do with all this bath water?”

Grogu looked around the room in thought. Thirsty plants. He pointed to the multitude of potted plants adorning the room. “Good idea, little one. Do you want some help?” Grogu nodded and Luke helped him hold back the blob of water as he directed smaller portions of it into the pots. Luke could feel the plants perk up as they watered them and praised Grogu for turning what could have been an unpleasant situation into something positive. When the last plants had been watered, Luke scooped Grogu from the floor and stood in one fluid motion. “Let’s say goodnight to Buir.” He brought Grogu, still wrapped in the towel to Din, who took him and held him close, bumping their foreheads together. Luke leaned in as he took Grogu back and pressed his forehead to Din’s. “Sorry, Love.” Din hummed.

“Don’t apologize. I enjoy watching you teach him.”

[tilltheendwilliwrite]

Star-Crossed: Bound by Blood

Chapter Two

Master List / Read on AO3

Previous Chapter

Pairing: Mando/Din Djarin x OFC Baast’Mal

Warnings: I’m making this up as a go, Canon divergent from the series during chapter 13, mild violence

A/N: I make this stuff up as I go along, if I screw something Star Wars-y up, apologies in advance, I didn’t do it on purpose, but I’m new to this Fandom. I will be cross posting this story between AO3 and Tumblr except the smutty bits. Those chapters will only be available to registered users on AO3. (I’m trying something new for people who want to read here on Tumblr, but to also avoid the smut for minors controversy. We’ll see how it goes.)

*I do not have a tag list* Please follow the story on AO3 if you want email updates, or follow @tilltheendwilliwrite-library where I post the new/latest chapters of all my stories.

***

Baast woke to the scent of cooking meat. It made her stomach rumble and mouth salivate but also confused her. There had been no one in her life for many years. There should be no one to cook. Her eyes snapped open, prepared to fight whoever had found her.

Then her eyes fell on Din playing with Grogu, and it all came flooding back. He spoke softly through the modulator, encouraging the boy to float the small silver ball from Din's hand to Grogu's.

When the child succeeded, Din whispered a pleased, "Dank farrik!"

Baast almost purred, watching him with the child. He made an excellent father, and she was of an age to desire a mate, a home, a pride. But a warrior like him deserved someone better than a broken Zentari. It mattered not that her soul cried out whenever he touched her without the barrier of his gloves.

He'd stripped them off yesterday, and she could smell him—the spicy scent of masculine soap blending seamlessly with the musk of a man warm in his beskar. But the underlying scent of Din Djarin was that of the sandy dunes of her homeworld. He smelled of warm winds and dusky plains, of tall grasses whipped by fragrant breezes. 

He smelled like home. 

The stars were cruel indeed to drop her in the lap of the one made for her.

She watched them for a time as he encouraged Grogu. Their bond was strong, too strong if the Jedi were to be believed. Such attachments bred fear for the one they loved, and fear lent itself to the Darkside. 

The idea of Grogu's pure soul becoming tainted made her ache, and though she said she couldn't help them, Baast knew she must. Grogu deserved a chance to grow up on the side of good. 

She sat up, drawing Din's notice, the man turning toward her across the fire. 

"Morning."

Baast wondered at the voice behind the modulator. Would it be deeper? More robust? Would it be even more pleasing than this one that stroked fingers of violent want through her blood?

"Good morning," she murmured, voice husky still with sleep. 

Before she could ask, the canteen he carried on his belt was in his hand. "Drink?"

She nodded, catching it easily when he tossed it to her. "Thank you. I'm not used to morning conversations anymore. Or any conversations in some years."

"You've done well, evading capture until now. Now, the Tribe will help."

"The Tribe," she whispered. "I've been alone for so long." The idea of being part of something was both appealing and terrifying. "I look forward to meeting your Alor."

"She will be glad to meet you. They all will. Everyone will hope-" He cut himself off, busying himself with the lizard cooking over the fire. 

"Mando, they should not hope for what I do not think I can give," she sighed, lifting Grogu to her lap when he shuffled over.

"You don't know for sure you can't bond, Baast. Give it time."

Time was all she had. Life was a long thing for a Zentari alone in the universe. 

Small green hands gently touched her cheeks, causing her to look down at Grogu. He cooed a sweet noise as she gazed into big, dark eyes. They were expressive in their own right, and she felt herself falling, diving once more into his mind. 

The images came fast and furious. Din running, fighting, killing, but almost always alone. 

Baast closed her eyes as pain washed through her for the Mandalorian. "I cannot," she whispered to the child. "It would not be fair."

Grogu frowned at her before squealing loudly. More images filled her mind, these of a man reckless with his safety, one who had little to nothing to live for. 

She gasped and wrenched her face away from his hands, but it didn't stop the flow of ridiculousness. Kriff! The man had a death wish!

When Grogu disappeared from her lap, only then did he release her from his grasp. 

Baast sent the green menace a glare. "That was entirely rude."

He smiled and blew a raspberry. 

"I'm sorry," Din murmured, holding the child away like Grogu was a danger.

She held up her hand, continuing to glare. "Do not apologize for something he did. It sets a poor president. Invading my mind is bad manners, little one. Disregarding another's desires is a step down a dark path. This will not be allowed."

"Dark path?" Din asked. 

"The Jedi and the Sith. One force believes in peace and passivity. The other wants power and are often corrupted by that passionate desire, both use the Force. He has the potential to be extremely powerful, but with that power comes responsibility. It is a razor's edge to walk, one I am not confident I have the skill to help him navigate."

Din straightened, but his shoulders lowered, relaxing his posture. "You'll help him? I didn't want to bring it up, but I'm running out of options."

"Yes," she sighed. "I know of one who may be able to help him, but I do not know if he will come at my call. Where is your covert?" He said nothing, and Baast tilted her head in apology. "That was an improper question. Forgive me."

"Always," he murmured.

She wondered if that would still be true should he learn what Grogu already suspected. "If I am to make contact, it must be from Tatooine."

"Why Tatooine?"

"Because it is the planet we agreed upon." She turned toward the fire and the spit of roasting meat before looking up at Din. "Have you eaten?" 

The movement was subtle, a single negative action.

Baast hummed and reached for the cloth that tied her pants' to her calf and began to unwrap it. 

"What are you doing?"

She ignored him and continued until her pant leg fluttered free. The cloth was only a couple inches wide, but it was long and thick enough to make an adequate blindfold. 

She lifted it to her eyes, only for his hand to shoot out and grab her wrist. It felt odd for him to touch her with the slightly cracked but soft leather of a glove now that she knew the feel of his skin.

"You don't need to do that."

Baast blinked slowly, gaze drifting to his hand before returning to the visor where his eyes would be. "It is not a need but a want. I will do this, Din Djarin, so that you may eat freely with the child and I. This is the Way."

"It is unnecessary."

She unfolded, rising gracefully to stand before him, wrist yet held in his grasp. "When last did you eat?"

He said nothing.

She tilted her head and held out the cloth. "I have not shared a meal with another in many years. I would share this meal with you and Grogu. Allow me to honour your Creed."

There was no sound, no movement beyond what Grogu contributed to the conversation in small burbles of noise. The Mandalorian was still and silent, a hunter in all things.

Baast waited, quiet, calm. After so many years in a cell, the forest gave her peace, but those years had taught her patience. She could wait for eternity for his decision. She had the time, after all.

What went on behind the helmet, she couldn't know, but eventually, he set Grogu down, released her wrist, and took the blindfold. "Turn around."

She did so, pushing her hair back to uncover her ears. "If possible, try not to cover them. The tips are sensitive, and the fabric will feel abrasive."

The cloth came down over her eyes, hooked behind her ears, and crossed at the back of her head. 

"Again," she murmured. "I can still see."

Twice more, the fabric circled before he tied a knot. 

Her senses heightened, hearing, smell, and the sixth sense that had been with her all her life. The Force resonated in every living thing, glowing and pulsing, connecting all of them. She could see it like an orange glow, thin lines and thick, veining out around them. 

"Good?"

"Yes." The heat of the fire warmed her skin, but before she could move, Din took her hand and elbow. 

"Kneel. I'll get you some food."

Baast followed his direction, aware of the bright light that was Grogu coming to her side. He placed his hand on hers, flooding Baast with a gentle apology. She turned her hand over to hold his little claws.

A quiet hiss filled her ears, causing her to turn toward Din. The beskar blocked some of his energy, the Force somehow muted by it. Then he lifted off his helmet. 

It took every effort to restrain herself from gasping. He glowed white, the shining brightness of a sun. Shock left her mute as she tracked the supernova that was this Mandalorian as he set down his helmet and removed the spit from the fire. He pulled off a piece of meat, maybe a leg, she couldn't quite tell, and brought it to her. 

"Here." The deep baritone was like the softest of silk to her senses. 

Baast held out her hands for the meat. His bare fingers grazed her palm as the hot meal hit her flesh, and grease trickled through her fingers. 

"Thank you," she managed to force from a throat gone tight with emotion. 

"It's hot. Be careful."

She stuffed down the aching need to reach out and feel the lips that produced such a voice and smiled crookedly instead. "Too long have you travelled with only Grogu for company."

He chuckled. "Perhaps."

Another wave of needy desire hit her, but Baast fought it off. She would not doom him to a half-life with an unfinished bond.

She ate and made sure he ate once Grogu was fed, asking questions about the child and how they came to be together simply to keep him talking. His voice was a balm to a soul grown used to silence.

When they finally finished their meal, she waited for him to return his helmet and come to release the blindfold. His hands were deft, skilled, and careful not to pull her hair.

Baast blinked to adjust to the quickly blooming daylight, then retied her pant leg as Din smothered the fire. She reached for Grogu and stood, ready to leave. 

"I can carry him."

She tilted her head, already missing the gentle ebb and flow of the Force from him, now encased in all that beskar. "Do you object to me carrying him because you think I am weak or out of principle because he is your foundling?"

"Uh…"

She arched a brow. "Do not underestimate me, Mando. I live because I am jatnese be te jatnese. The best of the best."

"I know what it means," he huffed.

"Then stop being ori'buyce, kih'kovid," she smirked. "I will care for the child as you have cared for me."

"Atin," he muttered. 

She didn't protest because, yes, she was stubborn.

"Fine." She could almost hear a pout in his modulated voice as he turned and marched out of their temporary camp. "And I'm not all helmet," he grumbled, likely thinking she couldn't hear him.

Baast smirked and gave Grogu a wink. "Come along, ad'ika. We weak ones best keep up with the big strong Mandalorian," she teased.

"I will leave you behind."

She grinned at his back. "No, you will not."

***

By the time they reached the Razor Crest, he was sweating in his beskar again, but with the luxury of the fresher within sight, Din didn't let it bother him.

He disarmed the ground defences and lowered the hatch, heading inside to get them underway. He wanted off the planet before anyone else thought to come looking for Baast'mal. 

Hopefully, the Alor would know who to bribe to falsify a new chain code for her. Either that, or there would be an all-out war to eliminate the threat and bounty on her head. Or, she would spend the rest of her life hunted by the Empire.

He hated that thought. Baast was not a creature who should spend her life hiding. She should be allowed out into the light, a creature of hope and beauty. 

Though he hadn't seen the true colour of her eyes, the rest of her was so mesh'la, when he'd removed his helmet, it had momentarily taken his breath. And without the helmet, her scent had filled his nose like something he'd loved and long forgotten. It was warm, soft, and decadent, all things a Mandalorian put off when he put on the beskar. 

It was getting harder and harder to keep his hands to himself.

She closed the ramp and followed him to the ladder, climbing up with Grogu to slip into the seat back and to his right.

"Once we've left the atmosphere, you're welcome to the fresher, food, whatever you need," he offered, getting them airborne.

"Do I smell?"

He froze. "That wasn't what-"

Her laugher, that throaty purr, cut him off. "It's fine, Mando. An actual fresher after years of lakes and waterfalls will be pleasant."

"Hm. I have to make a stop on Nevarro, then another before we go to Tatooine. Is there anything you need?"

"Clothing. A cloak. And a weapon."

They cleared the planet, and he made the jump into hyperspace before turning around. "What kind?"

"Short sabres or staff will do."

He watched her pet Grogu's ears, gently using those long claws in such a fashion the kid was almost comatose in bliss. She sat with one foot propped on the seat, comfortably leaning on the armrest. He wondered if her skin would begin to lose its sun-kissed nature now that she was off-world.

"How did you learn to fight?" he asked, forcing himself not to think about her skin and how soft it was. 

"Mandalorians are not the only warrior race. Zentari are taught from birth; the rest I learned from the idiots who held me captive. They sought to make me a weapon or a slave, with that came training, but Zentari are not so easily coerced, nor do we forget the slaughter of thousands. I am no weak-minded individual to be controlled by some Sith," she spat.

"Sith?" He knew next to nothing about Force-wielders and felt the lack of knowledge acutely. 

"They oppose all things the Jedi stand for, desiring power over peace or balance. They corrupt what they touch.."

"And how does a Zentari hold out against someone so powerful?" He didn't wish to insult her, but surely a child against a master Sith couldn't win.

She sighed and looked away, watching the lights of hyperspace. "Zentari are neither good nor evil. We are Force neutral. The blood bonds distinguish much of our future. To avoid creating bonds with those that would bring harm was why Zentarus was so well hidden. But someone betrayed us. They used to brag about it, the Imps. How one who we trusted gave us up to the Empire."

"If you are Force neutral, why allow Mandalorians to know of Zentarus? Why let us come seeking mates?"

She shot those vibrant eyes back in his direction. "Because the Way was honourable once. Perhaps, at some point, Mandalore was led astray by their leader, but that was not our doing. Those that came to us knew the Way. They humbled themselves before us, and if they were denied, they left knowing such was not their destiny. Those who came knowing not the Way… did not leave Zentarus alive."

"Then I am glad I knew the Way," he murmured, wondering who would have won between the two of them had she not revealed herself.

"As am I," she nodded, looking as regal as the Sand Panther she claimed in her blood.

"Were the Jedi not part of your Way?"

She scowled. "The Jedi saw us as a threat. Naturally born Force users who required little training to do much of what they could, who lived for generations, and who were neither good nor evil. They feared what would happen if we were corrupted. An attempt was made to wipe us out. It failed, and we Zentari veiled Zentarus from those who knew not where to look."

"And that's why you didn't want to help us," he sighed, realizing the untenable position he'd put her in.

She stood, placing the sleeping Grogu down on her seat before taking the step she needed to stand between his spread knees. Her hands lifted to land lightly on the sides of his helmet, gliding over the metal. "It is no longer a want but a need. I will not watch Grogu fall to the side of the Sith because of my fear of the Jedi. He must be trained."

She leaned down and rested her forehead against his helmet as long lashes veiled her eyes. "This is the Way."

Without his permission, Din's hands found her hips and drew her incrementally closer. "I will protect you, Baast."

"We will protect each other."

He hummed his agreement and wondered at the low ripple of sound vibrating through his chest.

Next chapter

[joracalltrise]

“The Mandalorian” and “The Phantom Menace” - I’ve just noticed how many beautiful simillarities and differences they have.

1) Truly magical night. A powerful Jedi is checking a powerful child’s potential. A concerned parent is watching from afar. 

Same here, with Ahsoka and Grogu. In both cases we have this misterious mood, as if even nature is telling us: this child is important, this child can grow up to become someone special.

2) The Jedi and the parent discussing the child’s past and potential. In this scene Anakin’s darkness is not yet known, so the scenery is very bright. Anakin himself is not present in the conversation, he’s busy doing something else. Shmi and Qui-Gon stand together, which makes it obvious, they want the same thing for Anakin, they are contemplating, what they can do to make his life better (and, probably already thinking about the possibility of him being a Jedi).

Mando and Ahsoka also discuss Grogu, but it’s a bit different. The scenery is very dark (except the tiny light in the middle) and the conversation is also circling around dark subjects. Grogu sitting between the Jedi and teh Mandalorian kind of symbolizes two options for him, two different roads he can take - because, in comparison to Anakin’s case, it is not so obvious, that he SHOULD take the Jedi path, that everybody around him believes it is the best path it can be. Also, from this scene (and some signals before), we have learned that Grogu is not as “pure” as Anakin was at the beginning - he already has BIG darkness looming above him. 

3) Saing goodbye scene.

Now, we are going according to “the Phantom Menace” timeline, but we know, that in “the Mandalorian” the scene number 4 will go first. 

Anakin’s goodbye with his mother is both happy and sad, beautiful and a bit depressing. The bond between the parent and the child is very clear - neither of them want to part. However, Shmi (as every good parent) loves her son selflessly and altough she is sad, she is ready to let go of him, for his sake. 

Anakin, on the other hand, is completely NOT ready to let go, to say goodbye and to choose between his mum and the Jedi. When I look at this scene after so many years, I realize, he SHOULD have had more time, none of this should be rushed. 

But we know Qui-Gon and his group are in hurry. There is no time neither for Qui-Gon nor Anakin to think things through.

And so, Anakin leaves with the Jedi, leaves his mother with the relief, that her baby’s future is secured (or so she thinks). 

If you look very closely at Mando in episode 5, you realize he is acting PRECISELY like Shmi. He is such a good parent here. It’s obvious he loves Grogu and doesn’t want to part with him, but he knows the best option for Grogu is to become someone like Ahsoka - someone who can defend himself from the Empire-like villains, using cool lightsabers. 

It’s Grogu who is so NOT ready to part with Mando. Not the other way round.

(Remember, I’m talking about readyness to let go, not WANTING to let go - there is a difference!)

But this time, the outcome is different. 

In this case, scenery is a bit darker in comparison to Anakin’s goodbye scene. And the Jedi does NOT take the child. However, it’s important to note, she doesn’t completely rejects the idea of him being a Jedi, like she does in the scene number 4 (but we’ll get to that in a moment).   

4) Finally, the rejection scene!

Let’s start with Anakin. 

First, we have a (VERY) succesfull Force test, then The Fear Talk, Yoda’s sad realisation and The Discussion. 

And it’s all happening while THE SUN SETS (when they reach the decision, it’s already dark!). Remember, when I told you about the previous scenes? How almost all of them, in Anakin’s case, were happening in the light and nobody were talking about the danger of training him, nothing about the darkness looming deep from within him? Well, it certainly changes NOW.

As you can see, there are already quite a lot of similarities with Grogu’s case.

Again, we have (not so smooth, but) succesfull Force Test, another Fear Talk (although not so direct, and a bit more gentle) and the Discussion. 

So, what are the differences?

First of all, the talk is very private, and the kid (Grogu) is probably not fully aware of what the adults are talking about right now. It’s not the intimidating Jedi Council meeting, where the kid is present and fully understanding the fact, that they are talking about HIM, and for some reason he’s not GOOD. 

Another interesting difference is that we have the Civillian (well, the Mandalorian actually, but you know, what I mean) talking with The Jedi, instead of the Jedi Master discussing importantn thing with other Jedi Masters. Which should look very different, but in fact... doesn’t ;)

Both Mando and Qui-Gon based their arguments on emotions, and on knowing their kids better than anyone (it’s kind of cute) and being confident in their kids abilities. 

“Whaat?! Hey, but look, what he can do!” - this kind of stuff. 

From the other hand, both Jedi Council and Ahsoka (another funny thing about this situation, considering Ahsoka’s whole past with the Jedi Council, that she now thinks similarily to them) - they talk from the experience. They are being reasonable. Well, in Ahsoka’s case it’s a bit more personal with her whole experience with Anakin, but we must admit, that her arguments are not stupid or out of blue. 

And the outcome of both meetings is actually... similar (again). 

The Council and Ahsoka are giving a “no”, but it’s not a definitive “NO”. There is still a small hint of “hm... maybe... maybe yes”.

Conclusions?

Well, we know, what the conclusion was, at least for Anakin. But, what about Grogu?

And this is precisely the reason, why I’m talking about all of this in the first place. 

I believe that Grogu’s story in Mandalorian is finally going to give us the confirmation of something I’ve been waiting to see in Star Wars franchise for AGES. 

The paralell of Anakin’s story, but ending DIFFERENTLY! 

Also, the study of attachment and the explanation of HOW can a Jedi DEAL with it and come out victorious. 

We KNOW, from the canon, that it is possible for a Jedi to have predispositions towards the dark side (Luke), adapt the dark side into their combat style (Windu) or even leave the Order (Ahsoka) and still stay in the light. 

But none of this Jedi had soooo maaanyyy similarities with Anakin, not even Luke (well, ok, Luke had many simillarities with his dad, but they were different similarities than Grogu).

To be honest, I’ve always wondered, how Anakin’s story would end, if the prequel trilogy was completed BEFORE the original trilogy. It may sound a bit odd, but I don’t really believe, that the Jedi Order treated Anakin wrongly. Well, they’ve made mistakes, of course, and it was difficult for them to approach him, since he was so very, very different than other Padawans. Obi-Wan, Padme and the rest of the Jedi Family sincerely loved Anakin and they did they best to make him a good man - they have just lost to Palpatine’s clever calculations.

But with Grogu it doesn’t have to be this way. 

And I’m eager to see, how Grogu grows up to become a powerful, good, but extraordinary Jedi. And, how Mando ends up as someone much more than a simple bounty hunter ;)  

The only question is - will they do it together? Because, well... episode number 6 from the second season gave me the vibe, that the FINAL GOODBYE between the two is waiting for us somewhere in the future. It will happen - it HAS to happen in order to prove that Grogu (unlike Anakin) is capable of letting go, of accepting the loss of the loved one. 

Sorry about the possible mistakes. Unfrotunately, I don’t have an English beta. 

[aion-rsa]

How The Mandalorian Challenges Star Wars’ History of Bad Dads

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This Star Wars: The Mandalorian article contains spoilers.

On the surface, the story of Star Wars is one of good and evil, oppression and rebellion, failure and redemption – the sort of big, broad themes that have resonated across decades and through generations. In actuality, Star Wars is a story of seemingly unending daddy issues, as a series of men who range from outright horrible to simply neglectful abandon, abuse, and otherwise damage their children to such a degree that the entire galaxy often ends up paying the price for it.

Though Anakin Skywalker is probably the franchise’s most egregiously bad father, he’s hardly alone, as everyone from Galen Erso to Jango Fett can’t seem to stop messing up their kids. Even Han Solo, a beloved hero of the Original Trilogy, turns out to be such a terrible father that his son ends up not just leading an evil army but literally committing patricide. Heck, even the Force itself is a pseudo-deadbeat dad, if we’re really meant to believe the whole Anakin immaculate conception thing from The Phantom Menace.

This failure isn’t limited to merely biological fathers either, there are plenty of father figures in this universe who are just as emotionally unavailable and dysfunctional as any biological dad. Qui-Gon Jinn certainly means well when it comes to young Anakin, but he’s also a tragic failure who cared more about the potential power in the boy than the heartbreak he inflicted upon him. And Obi-Wan Kenobi might claim young Luke, but he’s not exactly a hands-on parental type either, dumping the child off on strangers for the whole day-to-day raising thing and manipulating him throughout the Original Trilogy, even after his own death.��

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This is a big part of the reason why the Disney+ series The Mandalorian lands so hard emotionally. Sure, a show that is essentially a space Western full of familiar tropes and occasional fan service probably didn’t intend to become the franchise’s most complete treatise on the power and importance of fatherhood. Yet, the story of a lone bounty hunter and the tiny Force-wielding creature he takes under his wing is still quietly revolutionary, a reminder of the power of love – and, specifically, parenthood – to forge us into something greater than the sum of our parts.  

Mandalorian Din Djarin is a bounty hunter who works and lives alone. An orphan whose adopted people are almost extinct, he has few friends and generally trusts no one. He’s basically the definition of a lone wolf: Ruthless, removed, and generally uncaring. At least, until he winds up the unintended caretaker of a tiny being known as Grogu (or Baby Yoda, to the internet) who eventually changes his life and steals his heart.

Mandalorians are not generally known for their emotional natures, and Din initially appears to be as cool and largely unfeeling as one might expect from a member of a warrior race. Yet, the immediate kinship he feels with this creature despite their different species is understandable – he himself was adopted into Mandalorian culture as a foundling, after all. But it grows into something much deeper and, along the way, gives viewers a reason to invest in a character who doesn’t initially have a ton of defining personal characteristics. We care about Mando because he cares about Grogu.

In the early episodes of The Mandalorian, it’s cute fun to watch Mando attempt to prevent his tiny charge from pushing every button on his ship’s console and trying to eat virtually everything in sight,  all while Grogu refuses to listen to even the most basic requests. But by the time the series’ second season ends we’ve seen Din not only risk his own life but break with everything he’s ever previously known – from the code of the Bounty Hunters’ Guild to the most stringent tenets of his own religion – and not just in the name of keeping this child safe but giving him his best chance at a happy life.

That, as the kids say, is growth.

Read more

Books

Star Wars Books: A Guide to Canon Novels in Chronological Order

By Megan Crouse

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What Star Wars: The High Republic Reveals About the Galaxy Before the Movies

By Megan Crouse

Star Wars stories have often revolved around turbulent father-son relationships, but The Mandalorian is really the first time we’ve seen one portrayed like this, in which the central duo in question actually grows closer over time rather than splits further apart. From Mando’s increasingly protective dad vibes – complete with overt threats of violence to anyone who so much as looks at his tiny boy the wrong way – to Grogu’s obvious attachment to his new father figure, the two slowly become less of a pair and more of a singular entity. Where one goes, the other follows. (Literally, most of the time.) They travel. They play Force catch. And most importantly, they become a little two-person family, both in terms of their clan identification and their day-to-day lives.

But what really makes Djarin’s love for Grogu so affecting is the sacrificial nature of it. He’ll overlook the dark and tumultuous history his people share with the Jedi in order to find a tutor to help the child control his powers. Din will break his word, forge uneasy partnerships with unsavory people, and violate key tenets of the Way he’s dedicated his life to following, including removing his helmet and revealing his face in public. He’ll risk his life for Grogu, multiple times, protecting him from both generally bad people and the Dark Side itself. And after all of that, he’ll still relinquish the best thing in his life to a stranger if that man is capable of giving his adopted son something that he himself cannot.

In Scripture, such sacrificial love is rightly described as a vocation, a calling to something greater than yourself. And The Mandalorian’s second season fully bears that idea out, as our hero repeatedly puts Grogu’s best interests in front of his own and does his best to give him a future on the side of the light, even if doing so means Din himself may never get the chance to be a part of it.

Imagine what the story of Star Wars might have been like were there more father figures like Din.  

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At the moment, we don’t know whether Din and Grogu will be reunited in The Mandalorian Season 3, though common sense and Disney’s merchandising bottom line certainly makes that outcome seem more likely than not. But even if Clan Mudhorn is destined for a lengthy separation, Grogu’s presence in his life has clearly changed Din in many ways and inarguably changed his story, ultimately opening his heart – possibly for the first time – to someone else. He is without a doubt a better man now than he was when this series started, and Star Wars as a franchise is better for finally telling the story of a man who, for once, didn’t let his son down when it counted.

The post How The Mandalorian Challenges Star Wars’ History of Bad Dads appeared first on Den of Geek.

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[aion-rsa]

10 Best Star Wars Villains Ranked

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Star Wars is a story about good triumphing over evil, the heroes overcoming all challenges before them and defeating the villains. But we love to watch the antagonists, too! What would the saga be without its iconic, larger-than-life villains?

The hum of a lightsaber echoes in a hallway filled with smoke. A mastermind works behind gilded walls against his enemies. A bounty hunter zips through the sky with his jet pack. A dark lord awaits her prey from the core of a dying planet. These are moments that stay with us long after the credits have rolled, and they’re the reason why a few of the villains on this list are considered some of the best ever created regardless of the medium.

We’ve ranked our top 10 favorite Star Wars villains below:

10. General Grievous

Like many characters and concepts in the Prequels, Grievous is perhaps most notable for his visual design and powerful presence. A spindly four-armed droid, he looks like a mix between a robot, a spider, and a dinosaur. This non-human form wields four lightsabers at the same time, all of which he stole from Jedi he killed.

While Grievous’ personality isn’t really the draw here (he has a brief backstory and a tendency toward the dramatic), you can see some of his history in the excellent The Clone Wars episode “Lair of Grievous.” But we’d especially recommend you check out his first on-screen appearance in Genndy Tartakovsky’s Clone Wars microseries. Scary stuff!

9. Grand Admiral Thrawn

Inspired by Sherlock Holmes and legendary military strategists like Alexander the Great, Grand Admiral Thrawn is the first character on this list to originate in tie-in books. He also has the distinction of being the first major villain of the post-Return of the Jedi era. The “Thrawn Trilogy” in the 1990s remain the most famous books of the lot for rejuvenating the franchise and introducing this tactical genius.

The epitome of working smarter, not harder, Thrawn is a no-nonsense thinker who can tell what a culture’s war strategy will be like based solely on their art. His clashes with characters from the Original Trilogy to the Rebels crew to his own Chiss Ascendancy are beloved as tactical puzzles and a showcase for his intimidating personality.

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Fans love Thrawn so much that he was one of the first non-canon Legends characters to be retconned back into the Disney continuity after the House of Mouse bought Lucasfilm in 2012. The Mandalorian season 2 has even set up the Grand Admiral to make his first live-action appearance at a later date.

8. Kylo Ren

While there’s some debate among fans about whether Kylo Ren should still be considered a true villain after The Rise of Skywalker, his appearance in The Force Awakens is our favorite, and he’s firmly in bad guy territory there. From the intimidating crossguard lightsaber to his chaotic nature that makes the audience feel like even he doesn’t quite know what he’s going to do next, Ren’s vivid characterization and volatile personality (not to mention Adam Driver’s performance) helped sell The Force Awakens as a worthy successor to the Original Trilogy.

He sometimes borrows too much from Darth Vader in that first installment to be truly unique, but that’s the point: Kylo is a fan of the villains who have come before, a member of a new generation of characters who inherit the saga and choose which role they want to play. Ren joins the dark side knowing exactly where it will lead.

7. Asajj Ventress

Ventress has been many things. A witch, a bounty hunter, a Jedi, and a Sith disciple, but her different roles are all in service of finding what she really wants: A home.

Introduced as the acrobatic and creepy antagonist in the first and second seasons of the Clone Wars miniseries, she goes toe-to-toe with Anakin Skywalker on several occasions during the galactic conflict. Throughout The Clone Wars, we also see how her part in the war changes, all while she tries to fill the hole in her heart created by her separation from her parents and death of her mentor when she was just a child. Ultimately, she’s both a tragic and sympathetic figure but also a frighteningly unpredictable villain.

6. Kreia/Darth Traya

Knights of the Old Republic II features one of the most inventive and critical explorations of what it means to wield the Force. The game’s Jedi and Sith are conflicted, use their powers in unique ways, and hold personal philosophies about the light and dark sides beyond the beliefs of their respective orders.

Into the life of the game’s Jedi exile protagonist comes the mysterious Kreia, a Sith lord disguised as the hero’s mentor in the ways of the Force. And her teachings about the ancient energy are unlike anything else we’ve seen or read to date.

Instead of following the light or the dark side, Kreia feels the Force itself is a malevolent barrier between people and free will. Although her philosophy technically leads her to the dark, her ideas about going beyond that dichotomy entirely make her one of the most thought-provoking characters in the series. It’d be interesting to hear what she thought about the Force dyad from The Rise of Skywalker.

5. Boba Fett

Boba Fett began his Star Wars career as a mysterious cartoon character in The Star Wars Holiday Special and as a faceless villain in The Empire Strikes Back and Return of the Jedi, before making the jump to the classic Legends tie-in books and comics. Now, he’s back for the first time in the Disney canon, thanks to The Mandalorian, which gives a new generation of fans plenty of reasons to love the iconic bounty hunter.

Although he isn’t the first actor to portray Boba Fett, Prequel Trilogy veteran Temuera Morrison brings newfound charm and power to the legendary bounty hunter, whose armor, jetpack, and laconic personality made him a breakout star despite his relatively minor screen time in the Original Trilogy. On The Mandalorian, we finally get to see his legendary prowess as he single-handedly breaks stormtroopers with his bare hands before even regaining his armor.

Boba Fett’s history is almost as long as Star Wars‘ itself, debuting in 1978, and he’s been a fan-favorite ever since, living many other lives on the page beyond the movies. He’s worked for the Empire, teamed up with other bounty hunters, and even become the leader of the Mandalorian people. With his return to Disney canon, he gets a whole new future full of adventures for fans to look forward to, including The Book of Boba Fett.

4. Darth Maul

Maul just keeps coming back. While he was easily one of the best parts of The Phantom Menace, it’s his development in The Clone Wars that really puts him near the top of the list. A perpetual student always looking for a master, Maul’s tutelage under Sidious means he never really learned how to live outside the structure of the Sith order. That mentality clashes with the Jedi in one of the most dramatic confrontations in The Clone Wars, where Maul reveals he knows the Empire is coming and the Jedi are too late to stop it.

From a martial arts expert to the galaxy’s Cassandra, he’s played many different roles, including the secret leader of a galaxy-spanning criminal organization in Solo. In Rebels, his death serves as a moving capstone to what began in the Prequels, when Obi-Wan Kenobi finally ends his life in a battle not of martial skill but of the kind of mercy and solace only a Jedi at their best can offer.

3. Moff Gideon

While the villain of The Mandalorian hasn’t had nearly as much time on screen as many of the others on this list, he’s climbed to the top through force of personality. Giancarlo Esposito gives even Moff Gideon‘s expository dialogue a sinister life.

As an ISB agent, he differentiates himself from most Star Wars villains by not being a Force-wielding warrior first and foremost. He’s cool because he thrives on information, and frightening because of the lengths he’s willing to go to get it. And don’t forget, he’s willing to handcuff Grogu. You get in the Villain Hall of Fame for that.

2. Emperor Palpatine

The mastermind of many falls (Anakin’s, the Republic’s, Ben Solo’s), Emperor Palpatine, aka Darth Sidious, is the shadow looming over the entire saga. He has a hand in everything, from the inability of the Jedi to hold on to even their own Force powers (as they discover in the Prequels) to the rise of the First Order. He’s the ultimate example of ambition gone wrong, the desire to rule the galaxy for the sake of ultimate control in human form. And the performance by Ian McDiarmid through the decades has become a staple of pop culture.

1. Darth Vader

From the first part of A New Hope to the finale of Rogue One and beyond, Vader’s intimidating visage is synonymous with Star Wars. Designed by Ralph McQuarrie in part after the shape of a samurai armor, the apparatus that keeps Vader alive was made to look dark, intimidating, and “spooky.” He doesn’t have to run or use flashy lightsaber moves to kill you: instead it’s his inexorable approach and brutal moves that are so fearsome. And he has no problem Force choking his own men to get what he wants.

While part of what makes Vader number one is how frightening he is, that’s not the whole story. As Anakin Skywalker, he also brings pathos to the saga and inspires endless debate. His choice to turn to evil is the event on which the rest of the saga turns. Decades later, he’ll inspire Kylo Ren to start down a similar path.

Let us know your own ranking in the comments below!

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