#sprinkling old SWTOR OCs into the fic like an overenthusiastic cake designer
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Mand’alor Grogu ficbit 1
how about that show The Mandalorian, eh? shame it ended after only two seasons
(i kid i kid. .....mostly.)
anyway DinLuke reincarnation AU where Din became Mand’alor (started, ironically, before 3.6). It’s 500 years later, and now Grogu is the Mand’alor.
btw if anyone has an idea for a title for luke that doesn’t include his name (such as Grandmaster Skywalker) I wouldn’t mind some ideas tossed my way. i want to do titles for him and Din (so Mand’alor the Badass for Din or smth) that make them seem larger than life
using ‘buir’ (mother/father/parent) for din to differentiate from ‘father’ for luke bc...i am lazy, mostly.
this is also very much a grogu that skews more mandalorian than jedi
---
They called him Mand'alor the Eternal.
Grogu thought the title was more than a little silly, because he was all too aware that no being could be immortal, but he supposed that having been alive for over five hundred years could seem like a very long time for many species.
He also was, admittedly, a permanent fixture of Sundari in the minds of many. He'd been there ever since the city had been restored--including being immortalized in a statue commemorating the occasion, which remained deeply embarrassing but the traitors on his Council wouldn't let him remove it--and was present for all of the milestones that followed.
From being cradled in his buir's arms during the first broadcast speech of a reunited Mandalore to the coming of age celebration just last week, Grogu Djarin was inseparable from Mandalore itself.
"Grandmaster Mand'alor!"
At least his other heritage was never ignored, either.
Though he wouldn't particularly mind if that particular epithet was forgotten. Despite his close involvement with the new Jedi Order and numerous attempts to wheedle him into the position, he never actually had been the Grandmaster.
Grand by definition of old, maybe.
"Nadire," Grogu sighed, watching the young human Padawan bounce into his office, "How many times have I said not to call me that?"
"At least fifty-two," the girl replied dutifully. She was still in the loose brown robes used during sparring, her training saber smacking against her thigh as she stumbled to a halt in front of his desk. A little bit of the Force speeding her steps, perhaps; pre-teen was usually when they started enhancement exercises.
"So why do you persist in using it?"
Nadire beamed proudly.
"Because Master Anakin said it would be funny as f--"
"Grandfather's been skulking around again?" Grogu interrupted, straightening warily. The Temple didn't usually have Force ghosts hanging around anymore; five hundred mostly-peaceful years of a combined Jedi and Mandalorian society didn't often elicit input from the long-gone masters.
(Or ever, from one master in particular.)
"Yep! He said he wouldn't miss this for the world!"
Well. That was definitely not extremely concerning or anything.
"Did he happen to say what 'this' was?" Grogu asked, not particularly wanting an answer.
This was good, because he didn't get one.
Nadire shook her head.
"He just said someone should come get you."
"Mand'alor!"
Grogu looked up as one of his Protectors marched in through the open door, blue armor polished to a shine. He couldn't help but smile upon recognizing both the Clan insignia and the person wearing it.
"Rikke," he said warmly.
Tarikke Vizsla saluted sharply, inclining his horned helmet.
"Uncle," he greeted, because no descendant of Grogu's own irascible uncle would ever need to stand on ceremony with him. "One of our patrols saw an escape pod eject from a passing commercial vessel; it was followed toward Mandalore by a gunship that has ties to the slave trade on Nal Hutta. They intercepted and neutralized the crew, and the pod crashed just south of Keldabe. Both occupants have been successfully retrieved without injury from the impact."
"From the impact?" Grogu repeated sharply.
"They had prior injuries," Tarikke affirmed grimly. "And they're requesting safe haven, only..."
Tarikke's hands clenched into fists at his sides.
"They're just kids," he ground out. "A pair of human boys. Mirn said the oldest can't be more than ten years standard."
Grogu stood up from his desk.
Nadire grimaced and took one large step backward. Tarikke stiffened automatically, because Vizslas often had a little bit of the Force in them, and Grogu was positive that whatever he was emanating in the Force right now was not the calm of a Jedi.
Neither a Mandlorian or a Jedi would tolerate violence against children, and Grogu was very famously both.
He pulled on his helmet, and rested his hand on the Darksaber at his side.
Perhaps some people were in need of a reminder.
#mandalorian fanfiction#grogu djarin#dinluke#tho the dinluke is mostly marked by its absence atm#liz writes the mandalorian#mand'alor grogu#don't mind me over here#sprinkling old SWTOR OCs into the fic like an overenthusiastic cake designer
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