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Din can’t seem to shake off his shadow on his morning patrol around the latest city he and Luke had settled in. He could lose him, if he really wanted to, but he figures Luke might be mad if he returned to their cabin sans his tiny nephew. He’s awfully attached to the little womp rat. Hadn't even hesitated to offer to watch over him when Leia needed to take a flight out to meet a diplomatic party in the Outer Rim.
When Ben finally manages to catch up to Din, after they have lost sight of the cabin, he begins to babble immediately.
“What is your armor made of?”
“Beskar.”
“What’s beskar?”
“Mandalorian steel.”
Ben’s big brown eyes are fixated on his helmet. “What’s Mandalorian?”
“Mandalore is a planet.”
“Are you from Mandalore?”
“No.”
Ben’s brow furrows. “Then why do you have beskar?”
“Because I’m Mandalorian.”
“But you’re not from Mandalore?”
“It’s a creed, not a race.”
“Like being a Jedi?” Ben sounds almost hopeful.
Din hesitates. “Yes.”
“Are you a Jedi too?”
“No.”
“But you have a light-saber, like Uncle Luke.”
“It’s not a light-saber.”
“Oh.” There is a momentary pause in the conversation as Ben struggles over a log that Din cleared with ease. “Is Uncle Luke going to go back to Mandalore with you?”
Din’s spine prickles. He feels a trap. “Maybe,” is all he relents.
Ben is silent for the longest moment then. Maybe a whole three kliks. “Have you ever been to Mandalore?”
“No.”
Ben’s face falls. “But what if it’s not nice? What if Uncle Luke doesn’t like it? Then what will you do?”
Din can’t imagine Luke not fitting in perfectly wherever in the galaxy he waltzed; his boyish charm manages to inflict every being he came across, regardless of species, age, or gender.
He doesn’t respond, and Ben must lose interest in the question, because he starts on a new line of interrogation to fill the silence. “How many planets have you been to?”
Din’s head spins at the idea of calculating that. “A lot,” he says.
“What’s the coolest planet you’ve been to?”
Din considers it for a moment. “Arlossia.”
“Where’s that?”
“Middle of nowhere.”
“Why’d you like it?”
“I met Luke there.”
“I thought you met him in a fight.” Ben mimics swinging a light-saber. “My mom says you were trapped and good as sarlacc food because troopers were everywhere but then Uncle Luke showed up and saved everybody and that’s why you fell in love with him. Because he was like swoosh swoo—”
Din grabs the collar of Ben’s cloak before he can face-plant over another fallen log and sets him back on his feet.
“How heavy is your armor?” Ben asks, tapping at the gauntlet on Din’s wrist before he can draw away.
“Heavy,” Din says.
“How do you walk around in it all day?”
“I’ve had it a long time.”
“Do you wear your helmet all the time?”
“Yes.”
His voice is slightly aghast when he says, “Even when you sleep?”
“Sometimes,” Din says.
“How do you kiss Uncle Luke goodnight if you always wear your helmet?”
Rather than try to explain the significance of touching forehead-to-helmet, Din relents, “I take it off around Luke.”
“But I thought you kept it on always.”
“Not around clan.”
“Uncle Luke is ‘clan’?”
“And Grogu,” Din says. The response is pure reflex; the words for ‘Grogu’ and ‘clan’ have become so close in his mind that they near one single meaning.
“Why is Luke clan?”
“Because he’s my husband.”
“But I thought you weren’t getting married until spring on Endor.” Ben frowns. “Was I not invited?”
“We’re already married in the eyes of Mandalore.”
“So you haven’t had a ceremony yet?” Ben asks. “Am I still invited? Uncle Luke said I can be his groomsman. Can I come early?”
That is a disaster waiting to happen. Din considers and quickly dismisses the idea of fighting Luke on that. For some reason, Luke treasures the little menace, and if Din suggests any sort of demotion, he would be enjoying his cot on the Razor Crest II for the foreseeable future.
“You can come when Luke says to come,” Din says diplomatically. He tries to imagine juggling a wedding and two force-sensitive kids at once, one a mischievous toddler and one old enough to know how to climb into spots children should definitely not be, and he nearly short-circuits at the idea.
“Can I wear a cape like yours?” Ben asks.
Beneath his helmet, Din’s brow furrows. “Like mine?” he echoes, picturing the ratty, partially torn cape slung over his back.
Ben nods and waits.
“Sure.” He could cut a tablecloth down to size. He’s sure Luke wouldn’t miss just one, and once it had a dip in some brown dye, Ben would be none the wiser.
“After the wedding,” Ben says, “can I be clan too? Like Uncle Luke?”
Din hesitates. “It’s a little more complicated than that.”
“Oh.” Ben’s energy drops for a mere second. “Is it true you fight people before you marry them?”
It’s a bit more ritualized and complicated than that, but Din relents, “Yes.”
“Did you fight Uncle Luke already?”
“Yes.”
“Oh. I wanted to watch.”
Din huffs a laugh at that.
“Did you win?”
Din’s certain he’s asked so many questions he couldn’t possibly remember all the answers, so, confident this will similarly not be filed away for future recall, he says, “Yes.”
Ben’s eyes grow wide. “You beat a Jedi? Was it hard?”
Din makes his voice grave to avoid letting any amusement slipping through. “He fought well.”
The little cottage where Din and Luke had taken up as of late grows closer in the distance. Since they’d been walking, Luke had risen and started toiling away at a makeshift garden. When Ben catches sight of him, though just a blotch across the vast green field, he instantly loses interest in the Mandalorian and races over to his uncle.
Din crosses over more slowly. Ben is energetic, hopping around Luke and talking rapidly. Luke smiles and nods and says nothings at appropriate points, not that Ben really cares. When he sees Din approaching, a golden eyebrow cocks high.
Ben remembers he exists then too. “Uncle Luke!” he says, grabbing his gloved hand. “Can I come early to help with the wedding? Mando said to ask you.”
“Of course,” Luke says, sans any hesitation.
Din wonders if the cot in the Razor Crest II is really that bad.
“Can we practice now?” Ben says. “I want to get everything right.”
There is some good in the universe, because Luke raises a placating hand and says, “Maybe later. How about we practice your saber forms right now?”
Before Din can feel relieved, he sees Ben’s nose wrinkle. “I don’t want to learn about light-sabers anymore,” he says.
Luke’s eyebrows shoot up. Din freezes beneath his armor.
Completely unaware of the chaos he wreaked, Ben continues, “I want to learn how to use a spear, like Mando! It’s better, Uncle Luke, isn’t it? That’s why he beat you when you guys fought!”
“Oh.” Din can feel Luke’s eyes on him. “I didn’t know that.”
“It’s because it’s made of beskar,” Ben informs him. Helpfully, he adds, “That’s why it’s better.”
“We can discuss it later,” Luke says easily. He’s not looking at Din anymore. Din wonders if he should hoard some supplies in the Razor Crest II while Luke is held hostage by Ben. “Let’s get some training out of the way now.”
Ben pouts, but relents. “Fine.”
“I’m going to check the perimeter again,” Din says quickly.
Luke looks at him with an entirely innocent expression. “But you have to come with us. How else will Ben learn how to defeat a Jedi?” He beams at him, all pretty blue eyes and a sunshine smile. “We should spar. You know, show Ben how a Mandalorian can beat a Jedi.”
“Yeah!” Ben exclaims.
“Yeah,” Din drawls, and follows where Luke gestures him.
Din could not be more relieved to hear the wheezing, creaking engine of Han Solo’s scrap pile of a ship. Ben shoots up from where he sat with Luke on the carpeted floor, floating objects crashing to the ground in a haphazard pile at Luke’s feet. He can’t quite figure out the child-proof lock on the door, but Luke opens it quickly enough for him.
Din follows after them a few paces behind, still sporting bruises from their sparring yesterday when Luke had, none-so-gently, knocked him to the ground. Luke allows Ben to run ahead, almost crashing into his mother’s legs. Ben’s shriek of a greeting makes the amplified hearing offered by the helmet ring.
Din stops beside Luke, a couple steps away from his sister and her husband. The smuggler’s hands are on his hips as he watches his womp rat almost jump around Leia, a faint smile on his lips. Din doesn’t pay any attention to Ben’s rambling until—
“Mom, Mom! I don’t want to be a Jedi anymore!” He’s tugging at her hand like he’s trying to pull her forward, but Leia’s feet are planted firm.
“Oh?” Leia’s face remains perfectly still.
“I wanna be a Mandalorian!” Ben points at Din, and the gesture feels a tad bit accusatory. He can feel Han glaring at him now.
“Oh?” Han’s interjection sounds far less friendly than Leia’s.
“Mando says you don’t have to from Mandalore to be a Mandalorian, and he’s able to beat Jedi, and he doesn’t have to wear a cloak – he gets a cape. And I get to shoot things like Dad!”
“Now hold on a minute—” Han begins.
“Look!” Ben drops his bag and hurriedly tears it open, and before Din can protest, he’s pulling out the hastily-stitched-together tablecloth – dyed splotchy brown – that Din had given him in order to buy himself a few beautiful moments of silence while Ben had stared reverently at the gift. “Here’s my cape!”
Luke’s expression fell. “Is that my tablecloth?”
“It was old anyways,” Din says quietly.
“It was antique.”
Ben swings the cape over his shoulders and holds it there; Din hadn’t been able to find anything to latch it closed with, not that Ben cared. “I’m going to be the best bounty hunter ever. My helmet’s going to be black though, not boring like Mando’s.”
“Wait,” Din says. “Boring?”
“—and then,” Ben continues, uncaring, “I’ll go back to Tatooine – did you know Uncle Luke is from Tatooine, Mom? – and I’m gonna go after that other Mandalorian who hunted Dad and get his cool armor too—”
“No, no, no,” Din protests, because he doesn’t need Boba and Leia turned against him, at the same time Han snaps, “Boba Fett is alive?”
“Alive is a loose term,” Luke says offhandedly. “He’s pretty dull nowadays.”
Before Han can say anything else – and he looks furious enough to say quite a few things – Ben starts pleading, “So can I, Mom? Can I be a Mandalorian now? Please? I’ll be good if you let me. I’ll clean my room and everything! I’ll take Threepio to all his maintenances! Please, please, please—”
Leia’s calm voices breaks through. “I don’t believe I’m the one you need to be asking.” She casts a pointed look to Din.
Ben follows her gaze and brightens. An instant later, he’s at Din’s front. “Can I? Please?”
Din had been in hostage situations that felt less tense than this. “You should ask your mom,” Din says.
“She just said to ask you!”
He looks to Leia, then to Han, then to Luke, who are all looking at him with a mix of expressions he doesn’t know how to interpret. Luke has a cocked eyebrow. Leia looks perfectly impassive. Han is glowering, but Han’s always glowering at Din.
Din knows a lost fight when he sees one.
“All right,” he says. “Next time you visit.” Hopefully the ensuing backache from the Razor Crest II’s cot would wear off by the time next time came around.
Ben’s smile is beaming. It reminds Din a bit of Luke – though nothing could truly rival the sunshine persona that Luke wore like a second skin. It’s not exactly the same, but it does tug at Din’s heart in a familiar way.
Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad to train another Mandalorian, since Grogu seemed completely content with his Jedi training…
Ben races back over to his mother and begins negotiating out dates. Leia’s senator disposition slips into place as she bargains, and they make their way up into the ship, Ben stuck like a burr to her side.
Han waits until they’re out of earshot. “Boba Fett is—”
“He’s not interested in you anymore,” Din says.
Han actually looks more offended at that. “Everyone’s interested in me, Mando.”
Din just tilts his head.
Han points at Luke. “We’ll discuss Boba later.”
Luke’s eyes are wide and innocent. It’s a complete act, and Din sees right through it; apparently, so does Han, because he scoffs and heads up into the ship as well.
It’s not until the ship is out of sight in the cloudy atmosphere and Din is starting to feel somewhat safe again that Luke says, “So that’s where the tablecloth went, then?”