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This one had been a particularly tiring bounty.
Din leaned back against the durasteel hull of his ship. The sun was setting over the smoggy capital city of Anoat. The hazy, polluted atmosphere made the system’s sun glow orange, rather than the soft white color it gave off in space.
Din was glad of his helmet filter, but he wondered if he’d had Grogu with him, would he have had to figure out a breathing mask for his tiny little face?
He would have never risked the kid’s health for a job, at least not intentionally.
Not that that mattered any more, Grogu was gone, living the life he was supposed to. He was a tiny Jedi now, not a tiny… whatever it was he had been with Din. Tiny assistant Bounty hunter? Tag along?
He didn’t know how to define Grogu’s place in his life except as family. At least he had thought of them as family. He wanted to think that their relationship had meant something, even though Din had always known it was a temporary situation.
That didn’t mean he didn’t miss the little guy.
Din missed Grogu’s tiny, wrinkly, little face. He missed the child toddling unsteadily after him, even after Din had told him to stay with the ship. He missed his high coos and sleepy grunts. He even missed him stealing parts of his ship’s navigational equipment.
Din’s life just wasn’t the same without him, anymore.
Din also missed having another person on the new Razorcrest, even if that person had been just a baby… or maybe because he was a baby? Grogu had been Din’s foundling: the child he’d saved. He’d meant something to Din. Something deep and fatherly.
But despite the child’s absence, he’d never stop caring for the little tyke. Even if he knew it was better for Grogu to go off and live his own life. Din would age much faster than the child. One day – maybe even soon, considering his line of work – he would die and Grogu was just a baby. He needed people to take care of him. The Jedi could be that for him in a way Din never could be.
For now, he would write Grogu another comm message, send it on to Skywalker and ask him to read it for Grogu. That was really all he could do.
Skywalker,
How is Grogu doing? How is his training progressing? Please remember that he gets sick if you feed him and then go into a space battle. It doesn’t matter how tempting it is to feed the cranky little guy beforehand, wait until after any intense flying to let him eat.
Also, could you maybe… pass on this message for me?
Grogu,
I hope you are well and listening to your teachers. Be safe and don’t eat anything you’re not supposed to.
-Din Djarin.
Two weeks later, he got a reply:
Dear Din,
Grogu is doing well and I will pass on the message. I am going to be in the Chandrila system in two week’s time. If you are in the area, I will bring Grogu with me and you can see him.
May the Force be with you,
Luke Skywalker, Jedi Knight
Din stared down at the comm message. He wasn’t in the area. He wasn’t even anywhere close. But if he could finish up his business on Nevarro in the next week, he might be able to make it in time to meet up with them.
Din landed at the prearranged meeting spot almost ten hours before the agreed time. He’d been a bit anxious about getting through the system’s customs agency, but in the end, a tired-looking Botham working for Chandrila’s Port Authority had briefly looked over his forms, glanced up at his ship and then approved his visit.
Din remembered horror stories of landing on Core worlds during the times of the Empire, but apparently since it’s fall everything was much more relaxed, even here in the Core.
The landing spot was just outside a small town, near the magnetic pole of the planet.
He was early enough to expect no welcome when he landed, and there wasn’t one. However there was a very familiar beat-up X-Wing parked nearby. Unfortunately, the ship was empty.
Din ended up using the time he had to wait, to make some repairs on his ship. The blustery, cold wind of this area’s climate was annoying, but he ended up getting quite a bit fixed.
Despite his productivity, the hours seemed to drag by. But finally, as the sun was beginning to make its descent in the sky, a large dark-cloaked figure approached from town, with a smaller figure trailing behind.
As they got nearer, however, Din realised the small figure wasn’t Grogu; but rather a young hume teenling with bright-red hair and pale skin, typical of the people of Chandrila.
He felt his heart sink in his chest. He’d made his way here for no reason at all.
“Din!” Skywalker called as they got within speaking distance. “You’re early, I thought we were going to have to wait a bit for you. I’m glad though,” Skywalker lowered his hood and smiled, “We just finished in town. Yan’ton is going to be joining us at the academy,” he put a black-gloved hand on the teenlings shoulder and squeezed, flashing a smile to the kid.
There were many moments Din was glad of his helmet and this was one of them. He was glad the kid was going somewhere he could learn about his magic Jedi powers, but he felt a great swell of disappointment that Grogu wasn’t here. He’d traveled so far, all for nothing.
Skywalker shrugged his cloak off his shoulders as he neared the X-Wing, revealing a baby carrier strapped to his back with Grogu sleeping inside.
“Oh,” Din said too quietly for his vocoder to pick-up. Skywalker had been protecting the child from the wind with his cloak while he slept. Din felt a pang in his gut that he had thought the worst of Skywalker. He’d just been so focused on seeing Grogu ever since he’d gotten Skywalker’s message.
Skywalker carefully undid the straps around his chest and pulled Grogu around. The child squirmed at the new movement, blinking his large eyes sleepily.
Skywalker carefully handed him over, and Din took him eagerly. He noticed out of the corner of his visor, that the older kid moved to cling to Skywalker’s side, and Skywalker put his arm comfortingly around the kid.
It was good to know that Grogu had someone that compassionate teaching him. Despite the assurances of seeing the kid whole and healthy, despite getting to hold him once again, despite knowing Skywalker was a kind and compassionate teacher, their re-approaching separation still ached.
Grogu grinned up at him and cooed sleepily.
“Hey, kid. You’re looking good,” Din said gently, cradling him in his arms.
“Oh!” Skywalker exclaimed, digging through the pockets of the cloak now slung over his forearm. “I almost forgot! Here,” Skywalker shoved a red piece of paper at him.
Din shuffled Grogu to the crook of his left arm and accepted the slightly crumpled paper with his right.
It was a large heart cut out of thick flimsy. An adult had obviously helped Grogu, and written “To Daddy, love Grogu” across the middle, in large black letters. Some tiny scribbles in various colors were splashed across the page and a tiny clawed hand print had been stamped in dark ink just under the words.
Din’s eyes traced the tiny claw-print, knowing it was Grogu’s. He would be able to take this with him anywhere he went.
“In this system,” Skywalker was saying and Din was trying his best to listen. Unfortunately he was struggling to rip his attention away from the flimsy heart clutched in his hand. “Familial relationships are celebrated this week, every year. Children usually make paper cards for siblings and parents and exchange them throughout the week. I thought it might be nice to follow their traditions.”
Din was silent, unable to speak but for fear of weeping.
Grogu cooed softly in the crook of his arm.
“Was I wrong to help Grogu make it for you?” Skywalker asked, concern plain across his open face.
“No, it’s… thank-you,” Din choked out, comforted by the tiny claw that was grasping the edge of his chest plate.
Skywalker smiled sunnily at him, his expression fond. “You’re welcome. And you know you can call me Luke.”
