Chapter Text
He doesn’t even know where the idea comes from.
In the moments before it does, Din is sweltering underneath his heavy beskar armor and thick black cape. He’s finding little reprieve in the shade of the towering forest trees, appreciating the invitation to the jungle planet Yavin 4 but quietly wondering why the Jedi Academy couldn’t have been in a more comfortable location. Din isn’t one to complain though—he stands with his arms crossed as stoic as ever, watching Grogu and his teacher chase each other around an open clearing.
It’s obvious Luke is engaging Grogu just to amuse him, because his “running” is slow and stilted, and he has this bright smile on his face that seems to permanently live there. Grogu catches up to him and chirps as he tugs on his pant leg. Luke, ever the drama queen, gasps in shock and swoops Grogu off the floor and into his arms. “You caught me!” He exclaims. “You’re getting faster by the minute!”
Grogu giggles and claps his hands together. Luke melts at this and Din can hardly blame him.
By that point in the afternoon, the two of them had been training for several hours. Din made a point of attending those sessions whenever he could to provide emotional support and positive reinforcement for Grogu—not that there was a lack of positivity, as he was convinced Luke in Teacher Mode was a walking and talking ray of sunshine. Grogu still appreciated his presence, though, and seeing both Grogu and Luke light up every time the former mastered a new technique was more than worth it.
Din isn’t on Yavin 4 often. Every once in a while, between running jobs for Karga, going to meetings with Bo-Katan, and doing favors for Fett and Fennec’s new… “business”, he takes a breather at the Academy. It’s nice checking up on Grogu; the two have been able to spend more quality time together than he originally expected, and catching up with Luke has proven to be more fun than he’d like to admit.
Din is pleasantly surprised with their newfound friendship. Not only does he admire Luke’s capability as a warrior, as his strength, endurance, and courage are traits valued by his Creed, but he appreciates his infinite patience. He appreciates the genuine love Luke seems to have for Grogu because Grogu deserves nothing less.
The blond Jedi Master catches his eye from several feet away and makes his way toward him. Grogu holds out his arms for his father, and once he’s close enough, happily wiggles out from Luke’s arms to Din’s. As Din holds the squirming child close to him, he finds a world where he’s not a father, where he doesn’t have comfort like this, impossible to imagine.
“Thank you. For humoring him.” Din mumbles, his gaze flickering from Grogu to Luke.
Luke laughs. “No trouble at all. I like playing with him.”
“He seems to like you too,” Din says, smiling—not that Luke can see it. He looks down at Grogu, whose cheek is smushed up against the beskar armor. The poor thing is worn out.
Luke laughs and asks, “Is he the only one?”
And it must have been unthinkingly because Luke’s face goes bright red. Din’s face is flushed too, only he has his helmet to hide behind. The Jedi laughs awkwardly and scratches the back of his neck, shifting his weight back and forth.
“Uh—”
“Grogu’s showing, um, a lot of progress,” Luke coughs out. He's looking anywhere but him. “You caught some pieces of it before lunch, but his telekinesis is stellar. He’s a powerful kid.”
The topic change is abrupt, but probably for the best. “Yeah. He’s… he’s special.” And if he's choked up by it, nobody has to know.
Luke opens his mouth as if he's about to say something, then closes it and looks away. He seems shy, which is unusual for him. Din's hit with a random pang of concern, and can't help but ask, "Is something wrong?"
Luke sighs and runs his fingers through his hair. “I just… wish I had more to offer him, you know?” He turns in the direction of the academy’s buildings, a silent invitation to head back.
Din obliges. The two start up the winding dirt road from the clearing up the hill to the Academy grounds. From a distance, it’s hard to make out the Jedi Praxeum, as its sand-colored arenas and dormitories and general structures are obscured by the flora of the planet. Din sometimes wonders if its obscurity was on purpose.
“You’re an extremely capable Jedi,” He says, voice laced with confusion, and he means that. Given that their first meeting consisted of Din watching Luke slaughter a dozen Dark Troopers with his lightsaber without breaking a sweat, there’s no doubt in his mind of it.
Luke flushes with the praise, and Din finds that he doesn’t mind it. At all. “Sure. Blew up some death stars, had some battles, lost a hand, sure. But that's just the combat part, and there's a lot more to it than that. The Jedi lost an entire culture. Aside from the conversations I remember having with Ben and Master Yoda I….” He sighs again. “The history of our Order, the traditions, the ceremonies… I have no idea how I'm going to teach that.
“I’ve looked for the relics. Scavenged for bits and pieces wherever I could feel them. I’ve done my best to keep the Empire away from the little that I’ve found. But I guess I… I guess I’m just worried that it’ll never be enough. That it’ll fail before it’s even begun. That I’ll fail Grogu and any other force-sensitive children that put their trust in me,” Luke’s voice grows quiet. The self-consciousness is startling.
“How long have you felt this way?” Din asks.
Luke flashes him a contemptuous smile. “Doesn’t matter, does it? I’m the last Jedi Knight around. I'm not supposed to feel this way. I'm supposed to be the Republic’s hope for a new generation of peacekeepers. The powerful war hero who blew up those Death Stars. A living legend.” He spits out the word ‘legend’ with a frustration Din’s never seen in him before.
He feels oddly sympathetic. Mandalorians have a similar burden, as the Great Purge took an already struggling community and decimated it. Just the idea of having to build a new Mandalorian society from the ground up on a cursed planet makes him anxious; it’s a heavy burden for anyone, much less a potential Mand’alor or ‘living legend’, to bear. “I’m sorry.” He says, and he is. He really is.
It’s not much, but Luke appreciates it anyway. After rubbing a hand over his face, he gives Din one of his typical smiles; a little sweet, a little mischievous, all too genuine. “I know.” And then his gaze shifts down towards the path below them, and the buildings ahead. “Sorry. For coming at you with all of that out of nowhere."
"It's fine. I can take it."
Luke huffs out a laugh. "I'm glad. Makes these topics a little less lonely." That, Din assumes, was also said without thinking, but instead of finding Luke's face burning another fun shade of embarrassment, the Jedi is looking at him meaningfully instead. He continues, "I’ve been looking for potential staff lately now that more kids will be coming in and I guess the old Order has been on my mind.”
“You wish there were more Jedi to help teach the younglings.”
Luke nods. “Don’t get me wrong. I’m sure any helping hands I get will be great at accommodating the kids and their families and whatnot but… it’s not the same. I suppose it's time to make my peace with that.”
The two of them arrive at the Praxeum, and Luke begins to talk about dinner plans and future supply runs. Their conversation, however, sticks in Din’s head. Out of nowhere, the impossible idea rears its ugly head, and he’s having a hard time ignoring it.
Maybe there’s another Jedi out there, the obnoxious voice in his head thinks. Somebody that can help him.
It’s a ridiculous thought. Ahsoka and Luke have said it several times: Jedi are rare nowadays. And given the trouble Din had even locating Luke Skywalker, supposedly one of the more well-known ones, how the hell would he manage finding another?
Luke deserves this. You saw the look on his face. He longs for another connection with his kind. You should help him.
No. No. Din barely has the resources to undertake a trip like this one. Plus, if Bo-Katan finds out that he’s leaving for who knows how long on a wild goose chase with no leads right before important talks are to be had about the fate of Mandalore, she’d track him down and kill him herself. An angry Bo-Katan is not what he feels like dealing with right now. Or ever.
More Jedis could mean getting Grogu the education he needs.
A tempting point, but Luke’s doing fine on his own. He's powerful and impressive, known throughout the galaxy for his epic triumphs. Who better to teach Grogu in the ways of the Force than somebody like him?
Fair enough.
And just when he thinks that the voice in his head has been defeated, and that’s the end of that absurd line of thought, it says this:
Think about how happy it would make Luke.
“Din,” Luke says, reaching out to touch his arm. He snaps back into focus and into the concerned eyes of the Jedi. “Are you feeling alright?”
“I’m fine.”
“Oh.” Luke smiles again. The sun is hitting his hair just right, making it look gold. His blue eyes sparkle in the light. “Good.” His voice is so soft it almost makes Din uncomfortable. He... can't help but blush a little bit.
Dank farrik.
...I can’t believe I’m doing this.