Work Text:
In the darkness that seemed to permeate around them, the Jedi's eyes were the brightest point, the blue cutting through the distance between them as though lit from some internal source.
A hand reached out, the ungloved one (the flesh one, his mind supplied) and he stared at it, unable to move. He knew it was a request to hold, to reach back and close their fingers together, but he was frozen to the spot.
There was a manacle on the wrist of the hand reaching for him. How had he not noticed? And then a chain pulled and the Jedi vanished into the darkness without a sound, until even the light of his gaze was gone.
Din opened his eyes to stare at the ceiling of his sleeping berth.
He raised his hands, looked at them. They moved just fine now he was awake, but that feeling of helplessness still chilled him to his bones. He sat up and pushed his hair back with his fingers, lingering on the way down to rub his stubble.
Once had been an oddity. Twice had been disturbing. This was the fifth time and he had never been quite so glad to know he was on his way back to the Yavin system, his son.
And the Jedi. Because this dream was starting to remind him of the way Skywalker had spoken of his and Grogu's Force visions, their dreams of things that might be, or had been.
Din wasn't a Jedi. He didn't have dreams like that. And yet, he was having the same dream, with that same sense of impending loss and cold emptiness.
There was no point going back to sleep. He had tried once and simply gone straight back into the same dream again. It wasn't restful, he might as well be up and checking his weapons and armour. He had a strange feeling that he was going to need them.
*~*~*
It took him the rest of the wake cycle on the ship to exit hyperspace at the Yavin system. Another half an hour to not only bring the Bright Star down to land, but also walk to the Temple when there was no waiting Jedi with a speeder upon touch down.
That alone wasn't necessarily suspicious. Sometimes, they simply weren't at the Temple when he arrived and had to make their own way back from wherever they'd gone in the jungle. A couple of times there had been food on the go that needed attention, once he'd found them in the fresher, with a very unhappy Grogu wailing and crying as he was carefully cleaned of the prickles that he had fallen into chasing after a frog that hadn't wanted to become the next meal.
And sometimes, like now, it was simply late into the night planetside. Grogu asleep in his cot and Skywalker - Luke - often napping in his chair, datapads and books strewn around him, or as likely, pieces of machinery that he seemed to be constantly working on.
There was no light from the Temple. Even Din, with a lack of magic and sorcerous powers ("It's the Force, Djarin, not magic,") could tell that there was no one here. He tugged off his glove and pressed his hand through the hologram hiding the scanner and waited until he heard the locks clicking open.
Pushing inside as he pulled his glove back on, it was clear that the place had been very deliberately left. Everything was put away, even the bits and pieces of the vaporator that was being built to try and keep the humidity out of the store room.
There were no heat signatures. Whenever they'd gone, it had been some time ago. Probably even before he started having the dreams.
Finally, he went to the table. There was a datapad with a holo display plugged in; he pressed it on and waited as it booted up, the Jedi's face appearing.
"Hello, Djarin. First off, don't worry, nothing sinister has happened. I've been called away on business, nothing dangerous, but apparently time sensitive. I couldn't wait for you to get back, not when I didn't know when you would next be through, so I've packed up Grogu to come with me. We're heading to Chandrila and I know how you feel about going so far into New Republic territory. Feel free to wait for us, if you want, you know you're always welcome here."
He glanced off camera, lips twitching in a small smile, probably at something Grogu was doing.
"Anyway, I hope this won't take more than a couple of weeks. I got rid of anything that could spoil, but I know you can fend for yourself quite well." Another smile, cheekier and warm and directed at the camera this time. "And if you don't stay, we'll catch up after the next job, I suppose. Grogu wants to show you his new trick. Force be with you, Djarin."
The set up powered down again and Din let his hand rest on his blaster, considering.
He could just wait here. Skywalker hadn't seemed at all pressured or disturbed in the recording. Quite relaxed, in fact. He clearly found nothing amiss in the request for his presence.
'Business' seemed to be the term he used for when the Senate wanted his presence. Usually by making a request through his sister, which would be relayed, ignored, relayed again with a louder voice and threats of what would happen if he ignored her and then the Jedi finally motivating himself to go and deal with politics.
Din understood the reluctance to engage on a deeply personal level. He had managed to keep his own position a secret so far; Bo-Katan and her people must have kept it to themselves so they knew who had the Darksaber and Din kept the thing concealed in a smuggler's cache on his ship. Being the Mand'Alor would bring a world of trouble and attention and expectations that he just wasn't prepared to take on.
With all that under consideration, he could just wait.
But then there was the dream.
Din decided.
He locked the Temple doors again behind him and walked back to his ship to set a path for Nevarro. If anyone could dig up information for him about what the New Republic needed their Jedi for, he hoped it might be Greef and Cara.
*~*~*
Two more broken sleep cycles with the Dream and having to hike across the lava fields because of work being done on the landing pads near the city had not done anything good for Din's temper. He was ushered to a private booth and given a cool cup of water and ice that he couldn't drink, but he appreciated the chance to remove one glove at a time and let his hands cool down and dry of sweat.
"Mando! I thought you were to see our boy, what are you doing back here already?!" Greef dropped himself into the bench opposite Din's, tapping the table with two fingers and a drink of something amber was immediately deposited into his grasp.
"They're not there, Jedi had business of some kind. I want to find out what." Din tilted his head slightly. "Can you find me anything?"
"Jedi business is not my business. Arguably, it's not yours either, except for the little one."
"I think it was political. His sister wanted him to Chandrila, something not urgent, but still time sensitive." He had watched the holo twice more, trying to pick out any hints of information that he might have missed on the first viewing. "He didn't expect to be more than two weeks, but it's been three based on the holo he left."
"Has he reached out to you?"
Din almost automatically said no, but then he paused. "I'm not sure. Not by my comm."
"Jedi magic?"
"Maybe." He had considered it, that maybe the Jedi was somehow giving him these images and feelings, to communicate a distress he couldn't reach Din with in other ways. But if it was something that was stopping Skywalker from reaching out on his own, Din seriously doubted he could do much to help. He had watched the man train and fight since their first meeting and he found it hard to imagine a foe that could cripple that vast power and be vulnerable to his own weapons still.
"Maybe isn't helpful."
"I don't have anything else I can tell you. Nothing solid."
Greef grunted and hummed thoughtfully. "His sister is involved."
Din inclined his head slightly.
"Dune might know. She insists she just likes to stay abreast of Organa's movements because of planetary ties and not because she has a planet sized crush on the woman." He opened his comm. "Marshall, drop by my office for a chat with Mando, would you? He's looking for someone."
"Aren't we all?" Cara sounded amused anyway. "I'll be there once I get these idiots in lock up."
"We've had a few trouble makers, people dumb enough to think that because Alderaan was a pacifist culture that they can't be just as violent as the next bastard." Greef snorted again. "Like the tattoo wasn't enough of a give away not to mess with her."
Stupidity seemed to be a universal constant in Din's experience. No reason people wouldn't be idiots here, about this.
They sat in a companionable quiet while they waited. Greef made some small talk about available jobs and regaled him with a story about a bounty brought in the day before that had involved four sets of handcuffs between five limbs and two missing keys.
When Cara walked in, a large mug was already being pressed into her hand and by the time she hip checked Greef further into the booth to sprawl next to him, most of it seemed to be gone. She slammed it down on the table, lifting her chin in acknowledgment of Din's presence. "What's up?"
"Mando here is looking for information about your favourite Senator."
"Leia Organa?" She looked at Din, a curious frown on her face that suddenly lightened to realisation. "Oooh, you mean you're looking for information on your Jedi."
"He's not my Jedi," Din corrected.
"I know the Princess, Senator, has been involved in trying to reassure some systems that they can accept New Republic help without fears of being subsumed by them. There's a lot of understandable caution and reluctance from worlds to ask for help, or take it when offered, after what the Empire did to them." Cara waved her mug, looking around but another was already being handed over. "Cheers. So, that's what she's been doing. Seeing a Jedi with her, giving assurances, for some places that's going to mean a lot more than any politician making promises. Even if the Jedi is that Jedi."
Din was sure that Cara could feel his glower, even if she couldn't see it. "What's wrong with him?" Are you suggesting the man I entrusted my son to is anything less than the best he could be with?
She held her hand, making placating motions. "Nothing, nothing, well... He's a bit of a disaster, but I'm sure as a Jedi, he's fine. It's as a person that he seems to be less competent. I mean, you did tell us that he fell off a ship he was repairing because he got distracted watching the kid and a moth playing together."
It was hard to argue that. Din would have found it funnier if he hadn't been worried that Skywalker had done himself permanent damage.
"And didn't you mention that he completely failed to notice that pretty pilot who delivered supplies that time and was flirting hard?"
Din frowned. He had asked Skywalker afterward if he realised he was being flirted with, but the Jedi had shrugged and commented that he didn't really notice or show if he did, because he wasn't looking it was easier on egos. So that time didn't count.
"Point is, he's probably been stolen by the Princess to soothe ruffled feathers." Cara leaned closer, grinning. "If you want, I can probably rustle up where she is currently..."
He did want, very much, but he also didn't want to add fuel to the 'your Jedi' fire Cara had going. And he didn't want to try to explain that all of this was over a recurring dream that on the surface, really could just be a weird dream from his own mind.
"He has Grogu with him," he finally said.
Cara stood up and drained her second mug. "I'll be back with something by dinner time."
*~*~*
Din took Greef's offer of the use of his private space while they waited. A chance to have a proper shower, especially after the trek over, was deeply appreciated and it gave him a chance to freshen up the cloth and leather sections of his armour and clothing before he'd had to set off again.
It was also a chance for water and food that wasn't rations, which his stomach appreciated, even if the motions of eating were mechanical for him.
Realistically, Skywalker was fine. Luke was fine, as he often prodded Din to call him. He was with his sister, who was much more savvy and dangerous than her brother, and if anything was actually wrong, she or Luke would have contacted him.
If there'd been any hint of danger, Luke wouldn't have taken Grogu with him. And he said the Force would tell him of danger, which probably extended past "is that scanner blip something to worry about?'.
He got back out to the bar shortly before Cara's return. She didn't tease the information out as she was wont to do sometimes, just sat down and slid over a datapad. "She's been doing negotiations with the Kiffar. They were always pretty reverential of the Jedi, so I imagine his presence would do a lot for keeping people calm and friendly."
The Kiffar. Near human species, heavily pro-Republic and paid the price for it. They could often be found surviving in family clans in the Outer Rim. They were said to have magic of some kind, which Din supposed might be Jedi magic.
Force abilities, Din, not magic.
"Not the sort to take exception and imprison a Jedi then."
Cara raised an eyebrow. "No. Not really. The Empire enslaved a lot of them, it's said they can touch an item and tell you where it's been, who has owned it."
Jedi magic.
"Any reason you think they might capture your Jedi?"
"He's not-" Din cut himself off, refusing to engage with the baiting. "It's stupid. This whole thing has been stupid." He should have just waited on Yavin, taken the time to do repairs and cleaning on the Bright Star.
"Hey, no." Cara reached out, not touching him but laying her hand near his on the table. "You're seriously rattled, aren't you? You think something's happened to them."
Swallowing, Din gave a short nod.
"You want to tell me what?"
He shook his head.
"Okay. Less helpful. What do you need from me?"
He doesn't know.
"You know, you're sort of weirding me out, Mando. And I've seen some pretty weird things. Like your kiddo choking me without ever coming near me."
He's sure it's a calculated reminder that if this is a Jedi magic thing, she's experienced it. Knows more than he did before meeting the Jedi. But regardless, it works and he dips his head as he gives in. "Skywalker told me once that sometimes Jedi dreams aren't just dreams. They're... warnings of things happening or about to happen."
"Okay, sure," she agreed slowly. "And..."
"And I've been having the same dream every time I sleep. Five times in a row now. And I don't mean the same sort of dream, I mean the exact same feelings and details and I started wondering if the Jedi was trying to warn me about something, calling for, I don't know. Help?" He looks at his hands on the table. "It's stupid. He'd reach out to his sister, even if he was in trouble. And if he was, it's not like I can do anything. If he can't handle it-"
"Hm. Yeah, like, I understand the logic. But I'm still pretty sure they're negotiating with the Kiffar. No Empire remnants are going to be that stupid or heavily armed."
They sat in silence for a while longer, mulling over the facts and possibilities.
"You don't even like going to Mid Rim worlds."
"No." He didn't. It felt too exposed.
"So what are you going to do?"
What could he do? He didn't know where they were, he had no evidence they were in any trouble at all aside from a recurrent dream which suggested the Jedi was trapped in some way.
"Sleep on it," he finally said with a sigh. Because what else was there to do?
*~*~*
The single good thing that came of the morning was that the landing pad opened up enough space for Din to move the Bright Star there, nice and close to town.
He had sent out feelers among his contact network for information about the Kiffar and the current situation, but there was nothing back from anyone yet. He had had the dream twice more during his sleep, this time accompanied with a growing sense of alarm and urgency about the whole situation.
If not for the fact that he didn't want to leave and miss something coming in, he'd take a nearby bounty just to burn off his frustration. As it was, he took a seat in the corner of the bar and waited in silence for any news to trickle in.
It didn't trickle though.
Cara burst in shortly into the work day, skidding a holoprojector disk in front of Din. "Watch it."
He gave her a glance to make sure she was seating herself and activated the projector.
It seemed to be a news feed. A pleasant looking, near human was speaking to the camera. "-out of Kiffu today, with negotiations between the Senate and the Kiffar delegation finally reaching a resolution with the announcement of a surprise marriage between Kiffar matriarch Vesqala Tun and Jedi Luke Skywalker, to happen on Naboo inside the next month. Skywalker's close ties with the Senate and status as the last known Jedi make him a valuable gain for the Kiffar people, and a not so subtle reassurance that actions taken against them would also make an enemy of the last of a powerful order."
The footage cut to what had to be some kind of public presentation of the intended couple. The Kiffar woman was strong featured and broad shouldered, with vivid scarlet lines tattooed on her face.
Skywalker was subdued alongside her. He wore a grey cloak instead of the familiar black and the hood was off, presumably to let the camera and people see him. He smiled and nodded and gave the occasional hand lift of a wave to people before the Kiffar leaned down, whispered to him and they went back inside, her hand on his forearm.
The feed cut, and the projector shut down.
Din didn't understand the expression on Cara's face, something that seemed torn between sympathy and outrage and neither made any sense.
"This isn't his choice," Din stated.
"-what?"
Din pushed the holo back to Cara. "That smile. That's the smile he uses when people expect him to be a Jedi, full of universal compassion and benign manner. Also, she took him by the forearm. The right forearm."
Cara was looking more and more confused. "And?"
"He dislikes being touched there. He has an old injury on the arm and prefers to make contact with the left hand and arm. Also, he's a warrior, he uses his weapon right handed. Holding that arm constrains his ability to respond to a threat."
"Mando... he's a Jedi, not Mandalorian. Also, we saw him pick up and crush a Dark Trooper with some small hand gestures, I'm pretty sure that a hand on his arm means kark all for stopping him."
"Not the point. He's a fighter. You wouldn't like being grabbed and held by the arm,even if you can get free easily enough."
Cara tilted her head, conceding that point.
"This must be what he's warning me about. He can't leave without a major incident and humiliating his sister." And those things mattered to Skywalker. He wanted to make things better for people, even if that meant self sacrifice. "Or something worse. Like he has to do this to stop a war breaking out."
"I really don't think that's it, but you're right that your Jedi would totally do that." Cara leaned forward on her elbows. "The question is, what are you going to do about it?"
There wasn't really any choice, was there? "I'm going to go to Naboo to save Skywalker, I guess."
He didn't know where Naboo was or what resupplying he'd need to get there and back. He didn't know how hostile it might be, or if they'd need to bug out fast. But he knew, with no shadow of doubt, that Skywalker would do the exact same for him.
He couldn't even take Cara with him. She was a New Republic marshall, she couldn't be involved in rescuing the Jedi from this farce.
"Of course you are," Cara replied. "I'll get you coordinates, I guess, while you get resupplied and fuelled up."
From there, it only took a matter of two hours to get back into the air and then out into hyperspace. Din considered himself fortunate that Naboo wasn't a Core World, in fact it was barely on the Mid Rim. It wasn't close to Tatooine, but the desert world was within flight distance for escaping if they needed it and Fett would be willing to hide them until the heat passed.
It was, however, a bit of a flight. Plenty of time to read up about Naboo and the Kiffar. And almost inevitably to have the dream again.
*~*~*
By the time he landed at Naboo, he knew more than he ever wanted to about the planet.
Being the late Emperor's homeworld, it had not only survived the Empire's tender mercies, but thrived, in its own way. Policitically, it had been as crippled as anywhere, but its industries and economy had survived and its appeal as a tourist destination remained even now.
It was a beautiful world. Lush, tamed enough to be picturesque, rather than simply wild and overgrown. The cities are elegant, sculptural things, with delicate domes and wide spanning arches visible from a clear distance.
And, according to his research, the homeworld of Leia Organa's birth mother. She and Skywalker were the children of a former elected Queen and later Senator of Naboo, Padme Naberrie. Looking at images of her, Din was struck by the resemblance she had to both her children. Organa's resemblance was much more apparent, to be sure, but there was a quiet dignity and nobility to her that Din could immediately see from time spent with Skywalker.
At least the location made more sense. The Kiffar probably would've objected to having the ceremony on Tatooine.
(He suspected Luke would've protested it as well.)
There was a lot of traffic coming in and out of Theed, but he knew he couldn't rely on that to help cover his presence. A Mandalorian always drew attention, but with the festivities planned, he hoped to at least garner less outright hostility and suspicion.
In the time it took him to walk to the market square in the shadow of the old parliament complex, he had picked up an escort of two guards who thought they were being discreet. Din didn't pay them much mind, just kept note of where they were in relation to him as he made a show of browsing the market stalls.
When another pair of guards appeared, he started to tense. Two were simple. Four was slightly more problematic. He didn't want trouble, but he wouldn't hesitate to defend himself if these people took exception to his presence here.
A third person joined the second pair. They seemed unarmed, no openly visible blaster or blade, though the gait suggested maybe a small something concealed at the ankle in those slouch top boots. They headed his way, the guards bringing up their rear, though the weapons remained at parade rest, not ready for action.
Or so they'd like him to think.
"Master Mandalorian?"
He took a slow breath and turned around, stopped watching them in the polished pans at the back of the stall he was at.
The woman dipped her head. Her face seemed bare of make up except for a red line painted on her lower lip, cutting it in half. Scar of remembrance, his memory suggested. This was a member of the Queen's staff. "Your presence has been requested, if you have time."
"Requested."
She dipped her head. "By Master Luke."
That was permitted?
She kept looking at him, waiting for a response.
"I'm keeping my weapons."
"Of course." She gestured back the way she had come. "Please, this way."
He followed her. The guards provided them an escort into the old parliamentary building. It at least vindicated Din's theory that they had probably been converted to high end housing for visiting dignitaries and the like.
It was a well secured building, which had been broken into well secured and monitored apartments and wings, though he couldn't help but feel there was an element of a prison about this place. Like the security wasn't entirely for the protection of the guests.
On an upper level with what seemed to be very few people, a door was flung open before they closed half the distance between the elevator and door and a tiny bundle of green and brown came waddling out as fast as his little feet would carry him. "Br! Pah! Pah! Br!"
Grogu.
Din dropped to one knee, scooping his baby up against his chest and holding him tightly. Grogu squealed and patted his hands over the beskar, little claws ting-tanging against the metal excitedly.
"We'll be fine, thank you, Pakshi."
Din heard footsteps retreating but he didn't look to them, only lifting his head to the black swathed figure lounging against the door frame.
Skywalker smiled, lopsided but sincere. His hair had bleached out blonder since Din last saw him, more stark than ever against his dark clothing. "Why don't you come in, I'll get some food and drink and you can tell me what you're doing here."
*~*~*
Din was given a chance to eat and drink with Grogu while Skywalker vanished off into the private rooms of the suite for a while. It was deeply appreciated, a chance to see his boy with his own eyes, to let Grogu satisfy his desire to touch and poke at Din's face until he decided that food was more interesting and then he whined for his master to come back and join them.
Helmet back on, Din watched and waited while Luke got Grogu settled into his left arm, the excitement having apparently worn him out. It didn't take long for Grogu to doze off, safely ensconced in the space between them, Din's gloved fingertip stroking over his ear.
Skywalker looked to Din, eyebrow raised. "Well?"
"I got your message."
The Jedi frowned, looking lost. "What message?"
... that was not the response he expected. "The Force magic vision you kept sending me."
"I haven't been sending you anything. I have your comm codes, I could just send you an actual message."
If it was someone else, Din would've suspected they were acting for the cameras, but he knew Skywalker was not that good at feigning ignorance.
"What made you think it was a Force vision from me?"
Din dropped his gaze to Grogu's head and his own finger. "I've been having the same dream. Every time I sleep. You reach out to me for help, then something captures you and you vanish." Basically what happened.
"Huh."
It wasn't really a wise and knowing noise.
"That's weird."
Din already knew that.
"I haven't been sending anything. And I'm not in any danger of being stolen or kidnapped or captured." His gloved hand reached to rub Grogu's stomach just as he whined softly in his sleep, legs stretching out.
"Not even with this wedding?" The words were out before Din thought about it, maybe a touch harder than he would've wanted them to be.
Skywalker sighed and looked up at the ceiling. "It's just politics. The Kiffar suffered a lot under the Empire, they were suspected of harbouring one of the last surviving Jedi Masters, Quinlan Vos, who was one of their own. Having a Senator's brother marry into their people is a show of trust and respect."
"And a good reminder that they have a hostage if the Senate tries anything."
"Din!" Skywalker looked shocked. "I'm not a hostage. I volunteered for this."
Din's voice and indignity died in his throat. "You- what?"
"I volunteered." Skywalker sighed again. "Someone was going to have to do it. Leia might've volunteered if not for the fact that she is actually happily married most of the time, but like she said, this isn't about romance. It's about healing damaged people. The Kiffar have been so ostracised for so long, enslaved and mutilated..." Skywalker's right hand curled into a fist; he didn't seem to be aware he was making the gesture. "I can give them protection. Even if that's just a cultural or mental protection, the assurance that there's still a Jedi and he's one of them and he's not going to let that be done to them again. Tribe is so important to them, you must understand what that's like."
Din did. How could he not? The Covert was everything, family, friends, support, duty. His clan of two was the only thing that could compare, that child sleeping in the Jedi's arm.
People. Covert. Clan. Yes, a Mandalorian understood how important a connection like this would be to a people like them.
"They understand that I need to keep my focus on the school. Vesqala has offered her tribal lands for a Jedi school, somewhere safe, protected by the Kiffar and the New Republic alike, though I'm still really not sure I want to move closer to the Core."
"It's not as welcoming. And not as safe. Anonymity, secrecy, these are far safer than bureaucracies and armies." Din knew that. Knew it like he knew his beskar'gam. "The school is better in the Outer Rim, where traffic is lower and the politics of any one group cannot control access, intentionally or not."
"There's truth in that," Skywalker agreed. "Core worlds are noisy, in the Force as well as with machines and civilisations. And a lot of people would be uncertain trusting their child into a Core World, even one like Kiffar, if they're from the Outer Rim. We discussed that too and if we choose not to move, then Vesqala and I will come to an arrangement to split our time between my school and her duties."
"What about Grogu?"
Luke looked up sharply. "He's always welcome with me, you know that. I'm not going to give up on him just because I get married or have to move."
"It will be more difficult for me to visit." His voice sounds strange to his own ears.
"Only if we move from Yavin to Kiffu full time. And as I said, we're more likely to split our time. I'll make sure you still get time with him. Even when I find more students, with Clan Tun's support, I can bring Grogu out for you to pick up, to spend time with. Most of my students won't be as young as him, they'll be okay with other teachers for a couple of weeks."
Din was silent. He didn't know what to say. If they stayed on Yavin, visits there would include this Vesqala Tun and other visits would be Skywalker dropping Grogu off and picking him up later.
No more walking Grogu to the chain of ponds to hunt frogs, while they sat watching him and enjoying a chance for shared adult company. No cooking food while Skywalker banged about in the hangar on whatever project required little green fingers to be kept occupied elsewhere.
"Has Grogu met your- this- Vesqala?"
"Of course. He's part of my life, she understands that. They played for about half an hour, she likes children. He liked her aura."
A tiny part of Din feels betrayed by Grogu liking her, despite the fact he should be glad. She likes him, he likes her, more adults loving a child and protecting and nurturing them was not bad.
"Does she have children?"
"She's raised her younger sister. There are a lot of orphans on Kiffu, she'd like to adopt some. She knows I was effectively orphaned, she was nearly an adult when her mother died, but her sister was younger."
Din didn't ask about their father. He didn't need to.
"Din."
He raised his head.
Skywalker gave him a small smile. "I do appreciate you rushing out here to try and help me. It means a lot to me. But I'm not in danger. I volunteered. It's not a bad fate, marrying someone you can respect and like and helping to heal a people at once. It beats being an old grumpy hermit, or a burden on my sister's children when I can't teach anymore." Those blue eyes latched onto Din's, unerringly finding his gaze under the helmet like he always managed. "I'm not getting a better offer, am I?"
There was a pressure in the air that Din was aware of and couldn't understand. A tension that was familiar and alien at once. He felt like something was meant to fit in here, he was meant to do something and it would change everything for everyone, even though he knew that wasn't true.
"Well. I had to make sure Grogu was all right, didn't I?"
The tension dissipated, a decision made. He didn't know what that decision was, what had fallen or how. But something had changed.
Luke smiled. "The ceremony is tomorrow. You should stay in the neighbouring suite tonight, I'm sure Grogu would much prefer some time out and about with his buir rather than stuck inside with me while we finalise details." grogu was suddenly pressed into his arms and Skywalker was moving away. "I'd like you to come to the ceremony. You're an important part of the school and my life, and you can stop Grogu eating the floral arrangements."
Din could feel the dismissal. He stood and nodded, letting himself be shown to the suite that Skywalker clearly intended him to have.
He hadn't missed than Luke's parting smile was quiet and calm and serene, full of Jedi universal compassion.
*~*~*
The ceremony was scheduled for midday.
Din had been provided with polish for his beskar'gam, a small robe made of soft cloth in light colours that Din was certain was going to be stained with something within three minutes of being put on and an apology from Skywalker, asking if Din could hang onto Grogu for the morning and during the ceremony.
In the hopes of not being an embarrassment to himself or the Jedi, Din had polished up his armour and weapons before taking a shower with the baby. Grogu was content to sit on the soap shelf and play with the suds that Din periodically rubbed onto his head and hands while he actually got clean and when they were both presentable, it was time for a quick mid-morning feed and then dressing and meeting the same aide from yesterday at the door of the suite.
"Good morning, Master Mandalorian. Master Luke has asked me to make sure that you get the ceremonial hall in time to choose a place you're comfortable with." She gave him a customer service smile. "My name is Pakshi. Shall I have this suite held for you to return to after the celebrations tonight?"
Grogu twisted to look at him, blinking expectantly.
"No. I won't be staying for the celebrations. Just the ceremony." It was all he had been asked to stay for and sitting around watching other people eat and drink wasn't really his idea of a good time.
Grogu made a small noise and pressed his head against the breastplate. It was almost like he was disappointed.
"It's okay, kiddo, you can come with me. Give your master some time with his new spouse." He stroked along one ear gently. "We can drop by Rodia for a resupply and then go see Peli and Vanth."
There was a soft mumble of sound and Grogu cuddled closer, so he decided that was an agreement.
"He may wish to stay for the celebrations," Pakshi suggested as they started walking. "On Naboo, we believe that children should be involved with celebrations, especially when the focus is their family. I could have the suite kept for you, you'd have the floor to yourself for the night and when the little one tires, myself or Sabé could bring him back here."
Din would have the floor to himself, because Skywalker would be with his new spouse. Did she know about the nightmares already? They'd taken Din by surprise the first time he'd stayed overnight inside the temple; he'd been awake when he heard the pained cries and the crack of wood splintering from down the hallway. It had been a matter of trial and error to learn the difference between them, when Luke needed to be woken up with someone close to stop him striking out, and when it was best to just shout his name from the doorway and get ready to duck anything that was flung without hands in the direction of the noise.
Grogu whimpered again and Din bounced him lightly, trying to settle him. "We'll talk to him after the ceremony," he promised the child. "Either way, I won't need space here. If I stay, I'll stay on my ship at the port."
"As you prefer," Pakshi said agreeably.
They continued their walk in silence. Din had nothing to say and Pakshi seemed content to allow him to simply observe the city and keep a firm grip on the baby to stop him from not only escaping, but also calling things to his little grasping hands and waiting mouth.
The auditorium for the ceremony was getting the final touches of decoration when they arrived. People hurried about, arranging exotic flowers in tableaus of water, brilliant yellows and scarlets that felt too aggressively visible. There were tapestries and cloths hung and draped, filling the air with more colour, symbols that didn't mean anything to Din but spoke of a lot of wealth and influence being thrown behind this.
"Where would you prefer to sit? Or stand." Pakshi gestured along the sides, where there was space for those who couldn't or wouldn't be seated in the main audience.
Din took his time picking somewhere. Good view, clear sightlines, access to the exits. He was less concerned about witnessing whatever ritual the authorities had decided the pair would undergo and more in being able to keep an eye out for trouble, among the guests and at the best sniper vantage points.
He settled in standing at a structural column, back against the hard stone and Grogu lifted up to his shoulder. The kid would be able to see, Din could intervene before he tried running off and if anything went wrong...
It was a wait from there.
People started being seated an hour before things were due to start. Most people were disarmed except for what looked to be ceremonial weapons, bejewelled knives and golden blasters that probably had very little function. His own array of weapons was out of place, even if he had only brought a minimal number of open carry pieces. His blaster, his spear, his replacement rifle. The others, including the rarely carried Darksaber, were concealed about his person, under plates of armour and inside slits in the cloth of his outfit.
When it was getting near start time, he noticed Solo and Chewbacca enter with the small army of Organa's children. The Wookie wore his bandolier and carried his bowcaster still; to disarm him of it would have been a grave insult. Solo had also been permitted to carry his blaster, though there was some kind of fancy knot tied in ribbon around it. The twins proudly walked on their own while their little brother was holding onto his father's hand.
Solo looked at him, nudged Chewbacca and pointed. Chewbacca told Solo to sit down and behave, eliciting giggles from the children and the family got themselves seated.
Everyone settled, the Wookie ambled over to near Din, apparently intent on standing rather than joining his companions in the seats.
"Pah. Pah!" Grogu's hand patted his helm. "Paaah."
Din took a moment to assess and nodded slightly. "He'd like to sit on your shoulder. It's higher."
Chewbacca took Grogu carefully, lifting him up and onto his shoulder (the one without the bandolier). The child squealed excitedly, gripping fistfuls of glossy fur and bouncing on the spot, drawing looks and smiles.
The Wookie took it all in his stride. He seemed to have endless patience with children; the few times that Din had been on Yavin when Luke's family visited, Chewbacca was always willing to let his fur be pulled and played with, by Grogu or by Organa's children.
"Why are you here?"
The question didn't make any sense. He was invited, why else would he be there?
"Why is this still happening if you're here?"
That question made even less sense and was, frankly, slightly insulting. It's not like his presence was a reason to cancel the affair, or move it. He continued to ignore the questions.
There was a ripple of quiet that washed out over the crowd, some standing, some bowing their heads instead, each according to their own culture's standards.
A pair of Kiffar women had entered.
Din recognised Vesqala Tun from the broadcast he had seen. She was a striking woman with her dark skin and brilliant red tattoos. She wore a sleeveless tunic that showed more tattooing on her shoulders and her hair was laced with leather and flowers matching the decorations.
She was escorted by an older woman who looked to be her mother. She had very similar tattoos, the same on the face, differing on the arms and she held Vesqala's elbow as she firmly guided her down the aisle and to the dais at the front.
Once she was there, they stopped and turned and waited.
The twins appeared in the doorway.
Organa was wearing a floaty, layered dress that hung from her shoulders, leaving her neck and arms bare. Her hair was piled up in intricate braids and her face was painted in a manner that strongly resembled that of the Queens of Naboo.
Beside her, Skywalker had never looked less like himself.
The long draping cloak was the same floaty material as Organa's dress, layers upon layers of it that formed a ruffling cloud fall of creams and pale oranges. The collar formed a white and gold halo that circled from shoulder to shoulder behind his head. Beneath he was dressed in a cold, pale grey that showed far more throat and collarbone than Din had ever seen the other man comfortably show in front of strangers.
He was too far to see it but he knew that the open neck would be enough to show the edges of the scars that Skywalker didn't discuss, the fractal branches that seemed to wrap around a lot of his torso.
Organa started to escort Skywalker up the same walk the Kiffar had taken.
Movement next to him drew his gaze. Chewbacca had reached to steady Grogu, who was trying to climb down, arms reaching out to his Master and making small noises.
Din reached out and took his child back in his arms, rocking him and bouncing him softly. Grogu continued to whimper and whine and wriggle until Skywalker reached the dais and turned to face in their direction.
His face was marked with bright, clear red, a single line splitting his lower lip and a mark where Cara had her tattoo. Organa had the same makeup and Din realised it was being used as something akin to the tattoos on the Kiffar.
For the first time since entering, Skywalked gave a tiny smile and lifted his left hand to wiggle his fingers at Grogu. The baby squealed again, but it struck Din as a mix of excitement but also discontent.
There was no officiate. Just the pair to be bound together and the two women who had escorted them.
Organa stepped forward to the older woman, looking up to meet her gaze. "I stand here, Leia Organa, eldest female of the Naberrie line, to entrust into the care of Clan Tun my brother, to make sisters of us."
The older woman mirrored her actions. "I stand here, Tesquass Tun, eldest female of Clan Tun, to accept this great honour, to have my daughter step forward to welcome a new member to our clan as her partner, to be father of her children in title and deed."
The intended couple were both guided forward and Grogu whined again, twisting in Din's arms and then finally quieting.
Din felt a pressure inside his head, not quite pain, almost familiar. It wasn't subtle touch of Skywalker's Force abilities but the tactless shout of emotions and impressions of a baby struggling with communication.
It wasn't something he saw, not really, but he was suddenly aware of things, of a sense of security and warmth and family, of being loved. And then a shock of loss, of grief, of a mouth that smiled and eyes that were sad and a woman with bold markings and the silhouette of a mudhorn replaced with coloured lines that felt smothering.
Din looked down at Grogu, shock a cold line twisting up his spine. "It was you," he whispered. "You were sending the dreams."
Grogu tilted his head and blinked, watching Din calmly.
"He'll still be your Master," Din assured, but as he said it, he knew that wasn't what Grogu had been trying to warn him of, what he feared was happening. "He is not of my clan to be taken from me. From us."
It was impossible to say if Grogu understood or not. He didn't fuss anymore, either way.
On the dais, more ritualised words had been exchanged, this time by Skywalker and Vesqala. From his position, Din had a clear and open view of the Jedi, much less so of the Kiffar woman, mostly seeing her back.
What he could see was that she was holding something; she leaned in close, briefly obscuring Skywalker as her hand moved over his face.
In the wake of her fingers were left marks in vivid crimson, the same colour as her own tattoos, in the same pattern.
"With this paint, I state my intention, that you will be of Clan Tun when your qukuuf are embroidered to your skin," she intoned, as she drew another red line out past a blue eye.
Those eyes were watching him, cool and bright against all the creams and whites and golds and so very wrong reds.
"I challenge your intentions to make my own claim."
Din hadn't consciously moved forward and straightened. He hadn't thought about speaking, had no intention to do anything but bear silent witness and leave.
The beskar spear rang out as a punctuation to his statement, audible even among the sudden uproar that his words had caused.
He could feel the weight of the Kiffar women's attention, was aware of Organa stifling her emotions to give an appropriate reaction, but all he saw was Luke, gaze bright with something Din likened to hope.
"Mando-" Organa started, but Tesquass lifted a hand sharply, cutting her off.
"If he wishes to challenge Vesqala's claim, that is their business, not yours and mine."
"Approach, Mandalorian," Vesqala called to him.
Din walked forward. All eyes were on him, but that was nothing new. He had his beskar'gam, his spear and his child. All three drew attention anywhere he went.
The Kiffar stood half a head taller than he did, but she had the sense not to try and loom or intimidate him. "You challenge my claim with your own."
This close, there was no need to speak loud and Din felt no need to share with all the strangers here. He spoke accordingly, with his normal voice. "I do."
There was a pause.
"Why?" Vesqala prompted.
Din looked at Luke, who just gave a tiny, encouraging nod. His lips didn't move, but there was a smile around his eyes, lightness in his gaze.
"He is parent to my child. He has shared his shelter, his routines, his name and his skin." All the things that are so important to Mandalorians. "We remain connected even stars apart and we are raising this child side by side. I have no intentions to state. We are already clan beyond blood."
It was more than he wanted to say, but it felt like what was needed. In the crook of his arm, Grogu coos softly and reaches a hand out again towards his master.
Vesqala looked from Din to the brother and sister and then back. "I recognise your claim, Mandalorian."
That was not what Din expected. There was a wave of gasping and whispers, but it was Organa who spoke. "You do?"
The Kiffar nodded. "We were to be joined on the understanding that we were both unattached, without family inside our clan. We would have been content enough," she looked at Luke, who nodded agreement. "But it was for our people and not us. The only real smile I have seen from this man has been towards his padawan and this Mandalorian. If he can be happy elsewhere, what would it make of me and my people if we were to deny that?"
Dimly, he realised that the women were speaking among themselves, that even the willingness to do this was show enough of their trustworthiness and they should celebrate this new alliance. But it didn't matter, because Skywalker was stepping up to him, smiling at him and taking Grogu back into his arms, freeing up Din's left hand.
"Hi," Luke said softly.
Din reached up, gloved thumb swiping the paint off Luke's face, making a disgusted sound as he tried to clean it off.
Chuckling, Luke pulled one of the floaty bits of cloth off and helped Din clean both face and Din's hand of the paint while Grogu babbled and gripped onto Din's armour from Luke's grip. People were standing and shouting and calling to each other, moving from group to group as everyone tried to work out what happened now, how it all stood, if they were having a party or going to war or just pretending it never happened.
"Want to get out of here?"
Din glanced to the exit he had pegged when he first arrived. "You don't have any of your belongings. Like your own clothes."
Luke shrugged. "We can sneak back in a few hours when everyone's overeaten and drunk and more forgiving. There's a speeder we can borrow outside and I know a great place to lie low for a few hours."
And a final gesture to overcome any reluctance Din might have had, Luke tangled their fingers together, squeezing firmly.
Din nodded and threw caution to the wind as Luke took off running, pulling him along to vanish into the confused crowd with a last flurry of the abandoned cloak and a high pitched shriek of delight from Grogu.