Chapter Text
Luke is nineteen years old when he marries a Mandalorian on some sand dune on Tatooine. It’s not quite how either of them thought the afternoon would end, but, well, needs must.
It really was just that: a marriage of convenience. It really was just Luke repeating words that he didn’t understand, because the Mandalorian was bleeding out underneath him, half-delirious and about to pass out, and that was the only way to get him to take off the helmet so Luke could get a good look at his head and make sure it was still in one piece.
And Luke’s not a medic by a long shot, but he’s a hyperactive kid that grew up on Tatooine, with a long history of near death experiences any time Aunt Beru or Uncle Owen left him out of their sight, so he knows just enough about first aid to stop the Mando from dying.
And Luke had his speeder with him, and he couldn’t just leave the man, passed out and half dead in the unforgiving heat of Tatooine. Aunt Beru would kill him.
So, really, when Luke dragged the Mandalorian home, put him in his bed to rest, no one expected anything more to come out of the situation, least of all Luke. The Mando would wake up, would tell Luke the Mando’a divorce words, and then he’d leave, and Luke would have a hell of a story to tell, but that would be about it.
Nothing would come out of it, Luke was convinced.
Luke was wrong, as he so often is.
The Mando wakes up the next morning, and he does tell Luke the Mando’a divorce words, but less as a demand and more as a I’m willing to keep this marriage, but I would never force you. And Luke is nineteen, and he’s curious, so he says, “Let’s get to know each other first.”
Aunt Beru offers the Mando a room, no matter what Uncle Owen says, because the man is hurt, and at the end of the day, he can’t just leave Tatooine when his bounty’s still here, running wild.
Luke doesn’t tell Beru and Owen about the marriage, about the vows, and about the other words the Mando’s said to him, the ones that could undo all of this. Nothing will come of it, after all. The Mando will stay for a while, and Luke will try to hear as much as he can from him, every bit of information about the rest of the galaxy he can glean, and then, when the Mando leaves, they’ll say the words, and this will all be done. Because Luke might be nineteen, endlessly curious, and desperate to get off this planet, but he also likes to think he’s not insane. The Mandalorian is a stranger, one who hunts people for money at that, and he’ll go back to being a stranger, once his business on Tatooine is done.
Then, Luke gets to know the Mandalorian. Then, Luke gets to know Din.
Under the armor, Din turns out to be a collected, soft-spoken man. He’s handsome, sure, with a good strong jaw and deep brown eyes, but he’s also just nice. He tells Luke of all the planets he’s been to, of his covert and his culture, and he answers all of Luke’s questions with patience and a soft voice.
Back on that sand dune, Luke had seen Din fight, if only briefly. The bounty had gotten the jump on him, but still, even bleeding out and concussed to hell and back, Din had fended his attackers off long enough to get to safety, and to take Luke with him.
Din fights like hell. Din fights like his life is on the line, because it is. Din fights without hesitation, and he speaks like he’s worried his words will break something if he’s not careful.
Under the armor, Din turns out to be everything Luke has ever wanted.
He’s dangerous, the best fighter Luke’s ever met, and he’s well-travelled, has seen just about every corner of the galaxy, and he’s careful, with his words, and with his touch, and with Luke. No one’s ever been careful with Luke.
Luke’s in love by the end of the first day of Din’s stay. Din stays for three weeks.
They’re the best three weeks of Luke’s life.
When he feels a little better, Din teaches Luke some basic self-defense, nudging him into the right positions with gentle touches that leave Luke’s skin burning and in return, Luke shows him some of his pod racing tricks, and everything in his little workshop. Din lets Luke take a look at his ship, lets him comb through the mechanics keeping it running in his own time, never rushing, and listens patiently when Luke tells him he’s lucky it gets off-planet at all.
Every night, Din helps Aunt Beru in the kitchen, even though he eats his meals alone, down in the comfort of Luke’s room. During the daytime, he helps Uncle Owen as best he can, hauling heavy vaporator parts through the Tatooine heat. Once, he fights off petty thieves that had come in the middle of the night, so quiet Luke, Beru and Owen sleep right through the commotion, and only find out in the morning.
Luke might have fallen quick, but it doesn’t take Beru and Owen much longer to love Din, even though Owen refuses to admit it.
Din makes good on every promise he makes, no matter how big or small. “Yes, Owen, I’ll check on the vaporators later,” is met with the same seriousness as “I’ll protect Luke, I promise,” when they have to make the trip to Mos Eisley for droid parts once.
He also makes good on his promise to get to know Luke, to let Luke get to know him in return.
At night, Din seeks Luke out on his perch on the roof, joins him up there as Luke stares at the sky. He takes off his helmet, then, and Luke knows he’s only allowed to see the face underneath on a technicality, but the knowledge that he’s the only one who gets to have this part of Din, gets to see this part of Din never gets old to him, never leaves him blushing any less.
The first night they do this, they barely talk. Luke tells him about how he wants to get off this planet, see the galaxy, and Din listens quietly, face resolutely turned up towards the stars. Luke falls asleep up there, and wakes up in his room the next morning, carefully tucked in, and his bed has never felt so empty before.
The second night, Din talks a little about himself. About how he’s a foundling, about how he hasn’t had a permanent home since he was 8 years old. About how he likes it here on Tatooine, even though the sand gets everywhere, even though it’s way too hot to be wearing a full suit of armor.
Din seeks him out, every night, even when neither of them have anything to say, and Luke hopes.
Each night, Luke gets all these little insights into Din, every piece of information just making him fall a little more.
Din is a terrible liar. It’s already obvious when the helmet is on, his tone giving him away instantly, but without the helmet it’s almost embarrassingly clear. Din has never learned to control his facial expressions. He avoids Luke’s eyes when he lies, fidgets with his hands, and it’s so cute Luke doesn’t even call him out on it, most times. It’s not like Din ever lies about anything important.
Din has a brother that used to teach him Mando’a swears, and not tell him the correct meaning. Din has a community, somewhere out there, that he loves so fiercely, and he’d do anything to keep them safe.
Din has brown eyes.
Din has brown eyes, and a big nose, and his hair is always a little messed up from his helmet, and Luke never gets tired of looking at him.
One week into their nightly meetings, Luke works up the courage to touch Din.
Carefully, he reaches out and touches Din’s cheek with his hand, moving slowly so he won’t startle him. Din lets him, and that’s about as intoxicating as the feeling of his skin under Luke’s palm. There’s the barest hint of stubble there. He’d been clean-shaven, the first time Luke ever saw his face, so Luke figures Din just hasn’t had any opportunity to shave in all the chaos of the last few days. It feels rough against Luke’s palm. Luke loves it.
“You should grow it out,” he says. “I think it’d suit you.”
“No point in facial hair when I’m the only one who ever sees it.”
Luke gently knocks their heads together. “You’re not the only one anymore.”
When he pulls away, Din is staring at him, wide-eyed, and for a terrible second Luke thinks he’s overstepped. Then, Din smiles. “I guess I’m not.”
Luke is young, and dumb, and so in love it’s ridiculous.
Two weeks into their nightly meetings, Din lets Luke lie his head down in his lap, and gently cards his fingers through Luke’s hair as they both look up at the stars, and tells him the story of how he came to be a foundling in the first place.
And halfway through the story, Luke takes hold of one of Din’s wrists, and guides it so he can press a kiss into the glove covering Din’s palm, and Din smiles down at him in turn, so softly, and uses his other hand to brush the hair out of Luke’s eyes. The stars in the sky give his hair the faintest glow, reflect in his eyes just right, and Luke never wants to look away ever again.
Two weeks in, Luke knows that he never wants to say the words that would undo this. Two weeks in, he hopes Din feels the same.
One night, three weeks in, when they’re all alone up on the roof, looking at the stars, Din’s helmet resting between them, Din asks if he can kiss Luke, and Luke says yes.
Luke would’ve said yes to anything Din could ask for, but Din doesn’t ask anything more. So, Luke asks instead, and Din indulges him.
The next morning, Din’s comms go off, and Luke knows that that was it.
By midday, everything Din had with him is packed neatly back into his ship.
In the afternoon, he says his goodbyes to Beru and Owen, promises he’ll visit again, and Beru almost cries. She hugs him tight, presses a canteen of sweet tea into his hands and promises him that he’ll always be welcome back.
Owen shakes his hand, and when Din tells him to look after himself, he laughs, which isn’t something Luke sees him do a lot. “You look after yourself, Mando,” Owen says, and that’s about as warm a goodbye as anyone’s ever gotten from him.
Luke accompanies Din all the way to his ship, not quite ready to part with him yet. And then, entirely too soon, it’s just them, all alone under the unforgiving Tatooine suns, in front of the Razor Crest. Din turns to face Luke, and he’s wearing his helmet, hiding his usually expressive face.
Luke wonders what he looks like under it, right now. If he’s as pained to leave as Luke is to watch him go.
“The empire is hunting Mandalorians,” Din explains, his voice revealing nothing. “I have to go back to my covert. I have to make sure they’re safe.”
“I know,” Luke says, and then, “Take me with you.”
“I can’t,” Din responds, and finally there’s a hint of emotion slipping through the modulator. He sounds sad. “You’re just a kid. It’s too dangerous.”
Luke knows he sounds desperate, but that’s because he is. “You can train me.”
Din is quiet for a long moment. “Maybe one day, Cyar’ika. But for now, you have to stay here.” He reaches out towards Luke, tangles his glove covered hands in the hair at the nape of Luke’s neck. Gently, he presses his cold helmet against Luke’s forehead. “I’ll come back for you.”
Luke closes his eyes against the emotion bubbling in his stomach, threatening to overwhelm him. Din is right. It doesn’t make this hurt any less.
Luke wants to kiss Din. Luke wants to drag him home, more than anything, but Tatooine was never Din’s home to begin with. So, instead, he reaches up, and places his palms on the sides of his helmet, keeping Din there, keeping himself grounded. They stand like that for a long moment, eyes closed, just leaning against each other.
“You’ll take me with you next time?” Luke asks, finally.
“I will. I’ll show you the whole galaxy.”
Luke wants to cry. He doesn’t. “Promise?”
Din’s hands on his neck are heavy, the leather of his gloves soft and warm, and Luke is doing everything in his power to commit the feel of them to his memory. “Promise,” Din says, voice soft, and a little choked up, finally betraying him, and Luke laughs wetly at the sound of it.
And then Din pulls away from Luke, and makes his way into the Crest without so much as a glance backwards.
When Luke makes his way back into the homestead, almost 2 hours later and with red rimmed eyes, Aunt Beru gives him a knowing look, and promises to make his favorite food for dinner. Even Uncle Owen seems to have picked up on something over the past three weeks, and gives him a comforting pat on the back.
The Mandalorian, Din Djarin, leaves.
Two weeks later he comes back to a burnt down farm.
Luke is nineteen years old when he unknowingly makes a Mandalorian a widower, without ever actually dying.
He never did get to tell Aunt Beru and Uncle Owen about the vows.
Chapter Text
Luke is nineteen, dragged into the rebellion, and it’s a month before he even has the time to think about Din. Din, who’s out there somewhere. Din, who must think he’s dead.
In the blink of an eye, Luke’s life becomes a whirlwind of save the princess, blow up the death star, flee, help with the relocation of the rebel base any way he can. Din becomes lost in it, for a while. Din becomes something Luke barely gets to think about. Din goes from consuming his every waking thought to sneaking up on Luke only when he has a moment of quiet, late at night when he’s agreed to take over a shift for one of the guards, and he looks up at the stars, the way he used to with Din.
He never forgets him, though.
Once the base is relocated, and Luke has learned his commands, has gone from farm boy that stumbled into the rebellion to actual qualified X-Wing pilot, his days mellow out, if only a little. Suddenly, he has the time to think of Din, can spend hours of slow shifts trying to remember every crease on his face, every speck in his eyes. The way he smelled, the sounds he made when he laughed, the way he kissed Luke, gently, like he was afraid Luke would break beneath his fingers.
His voice, just that side of choked up, saying “Promise.”
All his life, Luke had dreamed of the stars. Now, he’s out there, and he just wishes Din were the one to show them to him.
Luke misses him with every fiber of his being, when he has the time to. Luke misses him so much it feels like there’s a pit in his stomach that he won’t be able to fill until he sees him again, any time he’s not in an adrenaline-fueled life or death situation. Which happens less than it should.
He looks for him. He tries to, at least.
For a while it’s mission after mission, but any chance he gets, he’s on the lookout for his Mandalorian.
There’s never anything solid. Din is a ghost, even by Mandalorian standards, no clan signet, no distinctive markings to tell him apart, nothing at all that would make the search for him easier.
There’s a town Luke visits on rebellion business once, on a planet on the far reaches of the outer rim that claims a Mandalorian saved them, and when the village chief speaks of him, a tall, blunt Mandalorian who spoke with a soft voice, Luke is convinced it’s Din. The savior didn’t give a comm code.
There’s more of these encounters, though, and Luke follows them like breadcrumbs across the whole galaxy. A Twi’lek claims he took her brother - thank the maker, her own words -, a Rodian tells Luke about the time he witnessed a Mandalorian taking a bounty in a shady cantina, and how that was a turning point in his life. A woman from the rebellion says she owes him her life.
Luke is nineteen, and he’s apparently married to just about the most heroic bounty hunter in the galaxy. But he can’t find him.
And Din never finds him either.
Luke shouldn’t be upset about that, he knows. Luke hadn’t left anything at the homestead to give Din a hint of where he was going, too caught up in his own grief and on top of that he’s on a rebel base in the outer rim, truly in the middle of nowhere. Luke is constantly on the move, going from one place that is designed not to be found to another, and still, some foolish part of him had hoped. Because Din is a hunter by trade, and Luke thought that maybe he’d come for him, like he promised.
Luke is nineteen, looking for any way to reach Din, to tell him he’s fine, and to make sure Din is fine as well, and he never finds any.
Then, Luke turns twenty, twenty-one, and people start recognizing him when he walks into cantinas.
He hopes Din’s heard of the rumors, from a rebellion contact, or maybe in some shady cantina as he’s trying to do his job. He hopes Din knows that he’s safe, or at least alive. He hopes Din is looking for him as well.
One night, when he’s twenty-two, when it’s become obvious that the empire is looking for Luke specifically about as much as they are looking for the rebellion as a whole, as he’s lying awake in shared living quarters, because the rebellion’s had to move headquarters three times in as many weeks and no one’s had the time to bother with setting up actual individual rooms, he realizes that he has to stop looking for Din.
Because now, there’s a target on Luke’s back, and he can’t put that on Din. He can’t drag him into this whole war, not when he has a covert to protect, not when he’s only really married to Luke because Luke essentially forced him into it, on some forsaken sand dune on Tatooine of all places.
So, he stops.
He doesn’t stop thinking about Din. He never stops thinking about Din.
When Luke is on a safer planet, when the empire has backed up enough that they actually had the time to set up living quarters – and Luke always gets his own room when that happens, because he’s the hero that blew up the death star after all – he likes to imagine where Din is right now.
He likes to think he’s with his covert, safe, even though he knows full well the empire is hunting Mandalorians for their beskar. He likes to think Din is protecting foundlings on some nice mid-rim planet, where the weather is nice, and the days are long, and he’s safe.
He likes to think Din is out there, thinking about him just as much. Night after night, Luke looks up at the stars, and he thinks of Din, somewhere, anywhere, doing the same.
Still, giving up on his search does something to Luke. It makes him desperately lonely, because at least before he’d had something to do, and more importantly, he’d had hope. Now that he doesn’t spend every free minute looking for Din, for a way to contact him, he has too much time to worry. Too much time to think of all the Mandalorians that have become victims of this war, and of the chance that Din was one of them. Too much time to wonder whether Din even wants him, still.
They’d spent three weeks together, after all. That was it. Din had spent three weeks with a farm boy on Tatooine and now he was married to a rebellion pilot that had a top spot on the empires most wanted list. Luke has too much time to wonder whether he’s more trouble than he’s worth, in Din’s eyes.
So, he fills his free time.
Luke learns Mando’a, or at least tries to. It’s something to keep his mind off the war, or so he tells himself. It’s something to keep Din somewhere close to his heart, he knows, deep down.
C3PO’s a terrible teacher, he learns, and Mandalorians guard their culture very well. He never does get fluent in it, partly because of a simple lack of resources on the language and partly because he can never listen to 3PO’s lectures for more than an hour at a time, but he learns some words.
Cyar’ika, Din had called him, that day when they said goodbye. It means beloved, Luke knows now.
(And he remembers when 3PO had first told him the meaning. He remembers how his cheeks were wet before he even realized he was crying. He remembers 3PO chattering confused consolations, as Luke had desperately wiped at his tears. He remembers trying very hard to convince himself he made the right choice, when he stopped searching for Din.)
Luke also learns some other words he’s heard Din use, and quite a few of them are swears, which brings a smile to Luke’s face, even on the days when he’s desperately sad, convinced they’ll never see each other again.
He learns what the vows mean, the ones he spoke in a panicked rush on a sand dune on Tatooine, what feels like a lifetime ago. We are one when together, we are one when parted, we will share all, we will raise warriors.
He repeats the words in his head before every mission. “Mhi solus dar'tome,“ he thinks to himself, every time the evacuation alarm rings out in a new hideout. “We are one when parted.”
And it’s not like Luke has a ton of free time to begin with.
The rebellion headquarters are a busy place to be. There’s always something to do. There’s always intel to gather, always a guard shift to cover, always the empire looming over them.
The rare nights that they are free, Han tends to drag Luke to shady cantinas.
It’s fun. Luke’s never really been in a cantina before, excluding that time in Mos Eisley, when Luke was a grieving confused mess looking for a pilot.
On those nights, Luke finds out he’s quite the hit with the ladies. And also the gentlemen. And quite a few people that aren’t either. It’s flattering, and it always leaves a strange taste in his mouth.
The first time he tells one of them that he’s flattered, but he’s married, Han yells about it for half an hour, and then makes Luke tell him everything about this mystery husband that he’s never mentioned. And it’s nice, to be able to talk about Din, even if Luke leaves out the details. Because Luke loves Han, and he’d trust him with his life, but some things aren’t his to share.
“I’m married,” Luke says, anytime someone hits on him, and no matter how often he repeats the words, they always warm his stomach. They remind him of Din, even if Din is no longer with him. Even if Din is halfway across the galaxy, doing who knows what. Even if Din might be dead.
Then, the rebellion moves to Hoth, and there’s no cantinas there. The days are cold and short, and any time Luke is desperately cold, he can’t help but think about warm nights on Tatooine, up on the roof talking about everything and nothing. Can’t help but remember the way Din’s fingers had felt in his hair, or the way his eyes had reflected the stars, or the nervous tilt to his voice when he’d asked Luke if he could kiss him.
They’re not on Hoth for very long, which might be a blessing.
The empire attacks, and then-
Luke is twenty-two, when he meets Yoda. And Yoda speaks in riddles, teaches Luke about things that are bigger than him, and on a good day, Luke understands about every third thing he says.
One night, though, Yoda tells him something clearly.
He tells Luke the Jedi and the Mandalorians are ancient enemies, with a knowing glint in his eyes.
Three years after Luke has last seen Din, something terrible falls into place.
Because maybe Din has heard of him. Because maybe what Din has heard weren’t the stories of the rebellion pilot Luke, who apparently flies like hell, but still blew up the death star. Maybe he heard about that kid Skywalker instead, the one the empire wants. The one with the lightsaber, and the freakish reflexes. The one that claims his father was a Jedi.
Maybe Din knew exactly where he was, those past three years, and just didn’t want to see him.
Maybe Din hasn’t heard, but when Luke finally does find him, and tells him everything that happened, he won’t want to see Luke ever again.
Before, Luke had given up looking for Din, at least until the war was over.
On Dagobah, he gives up on Din entirely. He tries to, at least.
He still thinks of nights on Tatooine when he’s stuck on a cold planet, and he still repeats the words Mhi solus dar'tome whenever he starts up his X-Wing to do something incredibly stupid, but he gives up on the future with Din that he’s always hoped for.
He has everything he will ever receive from Din. It will have to be enough.
Then the war ends, and suddenly everyone in the galaxy seems to know who he is.
Din never finds him.
Luke tries to be at peace with that.
(He never quite succeeds.)
Chapter Text
Luke is 28 when he hears a child cry out through the Force, asking for help, asking for a rescue.
The child had called from the seeing stone on Tython, but by the time Luke actually gets there in his terribly slow ship that Leia had forced him to get – you can’t go picking up kids in your X-Wing, Luke, she’d said, you need a cot and a medbay at least – the kid’s already gone.
Luke senses its’ presence on a ship not too far away, though, and he senses that it’s in distress, so he makes his way there.
When he arrives, it’s an old imperial cruiser, filled to the brim with darktroopers, which isn’t as much of a surprise as it should be. Even years after the war, after the empire was defeated, there are still stragglers. Years after the rebellion won, force-sensitive children are still being hunted.
What is a surprise, however, is that all along Luke’s path to the cockpit, where he can sense the child – and it’s calmer, now, almost happy, and that’s a surprise as well – there are the remnants of fighting. There are dead stormtroopers on the floor, and blaster markings on the walls.
What is a surprise is that someone had fought tooth and nail to get the child back.
The heavy doors leading to the cockpit are closed, and behind it, Luke can feel five anxious adults, and the child. He’s just about to open them with the Force, when they slide open on their own.
There, in the room the doors reveal, stand a former shock trooper, an assassin, and three Mandalorians. Briefly, Luke feels like he’s wandered into a bad joke, when one of the Mandalorians catches his eyes.
The man hurts to look at. The helmet looks so much like Din’s, but the armor’s all wrong, pure beskar with a signet on his pauldron, a Mudhorn engraved where Din’s armor had been blank, and in his arms, he holds a little green child.
The child that had called out to Luke through the Force.
Luke doesn’t remove his hood. He doesn’t trust himself not to let the hurt show on his face.
“Are you a Jedi?” the man asks, and Luke has to briefly shut his eyes to get his own facial expression under control.
His voice is deep, and hurt, but it’s soft, so similar to the way Din’s voice had been soft. But now isn’t the time for these kinds of thoughts. There’s a child that needs Luke’s protection, and Luke has had nine years to let Din’s absence go from an all-consuming hurt to a dull ache that he can ignore.
“Yes,” Luke says, and hopes his voice doesn’t sound choked up. “I’m here for the child.”
And there’s more to say, more to explain, because Luke can feel the man is desperately sad, and Luke should tell him he’s not here to separate them, that the man is more than welcome to come with - even though looking at him hurts more than Luke can bear - because the child deserves it. Luke’s practiced this, for Force’s sake, has a whole speech prepared, but his voice fails him when the child coos, and Luke can feel the man’s love for it in the Force so strongly it almost knocks him off his feet.
The child reaches up, and taps its claws against the Mandalorian’s helmet. The implication is clear.
Luke has met a few other Mandalorians through the years. Not a lot, but a few, and he knows now that not all of them value their armor like Din does. Still, as the man raises a hand to take off his helmet Luke can see the women in cockpit turn away, and Luke takes that as confirmation that this man is showing his face to the child, and the child only. So, Luke moves to turn as well, to give the man some privacy, but he’s a second too late.
His eyes catch on what little the Mandalorian has revealed of his face – a familiar jawline, littered in brown stubble that wasn’t there the last time Luke saw it – and in an instant, Luke is rooted in place.
The Mandalorian takes off his helmet, and all the Jedi training in the world couldn’t have prepared Luke for what he sees next. It’s Din.
It’s Din, older – and he has a mustache now, and laugh lines around his eyes, and an expression so hurt it feels like a punch in the gut just to look – but it’s him. He’s alive and he’s here, half a room from Luke and Luke is moving towards him before he’s even aware of himself.
Din takes a startled step back, and Luke can’t quite fault him for that since he’s still wearing his hood, and Din probably just saw him destroy a dozen darktroopers all on his own. “Din,” Luke says, without thinking, and Din freezes. Luke slows down, those last few steps, approaches Din with care as he reaches out towards the child in his arm.
The child raises an arm out to catch one of Luke’s fingers in its little clawed hand, and Luke absentmindedly thinks that he would die for it. “Aboo,” it says. It says a little more than that, in the force, it’s thoughts a mess of “Are you the Jedi?” and “Do you know buir?” and “Do I have to go now?”
And Luke should answer it, but his own thoughts are a mess as well, memories of Din flooding his mind. Din saying goodbye, saying I’ll come back for you, bleeding out somewhere on Tatooine and saying the vows.
We are one when together, we are one when parted, we will share all, we will raise warriors.
“Are you our little warrior?” Luke asks, dumbly, because all those times he’d imagined meeting Din again, he’d never accounted for a little green baby.
One of the women makes a strange, strangled noise, but both Din and Luke ignore her.
Nine years, he’d mourned after Din, and now Din is here, right in front of him, with a child that is so bright in the force it warms Luke to his core just with its presence. Luke doesn’t know whether he should laugh, or cry.
Din is still frozen, force signature a mess of confusion and grief, and finally Luke has the state of mind to take off his hood. He can see Din’s eyes follow the movement of his hand as he reaches up, always on guard, and then he sees Din’s stare turn blank as Luke reveals his face, entirely too late.
“Luke?” Din breathes. “Cyar’ika?”
The Mandalorian woman across the room gasps, but Luke doesn’t have it in himself to pay her any mind. Cyar’ika rings in his mind. Beloved.
He smiles up at Din. “Yeah.” He reaches for him with his free hand, the one that the child isn’t holding on to, and lets it connect with Din’s cheek. Din leans into it instinctively, and Luke fights the urge to kiss him. “It’s me.”
“You can’t be here,” Din says, then, and something in Luke breaks. For years, he thought he’d accepted that there wouldn’t be a future for him and Din. Hearing it like this, though, is more than he can bear.
“You’re dead.”
And suddenly, terribly, everything falls into place.
Din never came back, because Din thought there was nothing to come back to. Din is quite possibly the only person in the galaxy who’s never heard of the last Jedi.
“I’m not,” Luke says, because he doesn’t know what else to say. “I got out.”
“You were just a kid,” Din goes on, his voice taking a frantic edge, and a bit belatedly, Luke realizes his hair is wet with blood, and that he’s swaying just a little where he stands. He’s concussed, and Luke has accidentally sprung the biggest surprise possible on him. “You were just a kid and they never found a body and I just thought-“
“I know,” Luke says, and gently runs his thumb across Din’s cheekbone in an effort to calm him down. “I know. It’s alright. You have to breathe, alright?”
Din stares at him, wide eyed. “I should’ve looked for you.”
“You wouldn’t have found me.”
“I would’ve,” Din mumbles. “I should’ve.”
And with that, Din sinks against him, passed out. His helmet slips from his hands and makes a clear sound as it connects with the floor and the baby in his arms makes a little worried cooing sound as Luke holds both of them up, mostly through the Force. For a second, Luke just stands there in stunned silence, completely forgetting the other people in the cockpit.
Din’s alive, and he thought Luke was dead, and he’s here. He’s here, pressed up against Luke, with a force-sensitive baby, in an imperial cruiser for some unknown reason.
Din didn’t abandon him. Luke did.
“Can we turn around?” the former shock trooper asks, effectively ripping him out of his thoughts.
“No,” Luke says. “He’s passed out. Give me a second, I’ll put his helmet back on.”
“So, we can’t see his face, but the Jedi can?” one of the women in Mandalorian armor asks the other one, sounding a little bitter. Sounding a little like the only reason she turned away at all was because of the woman with the owl motif painted on her helmet.
Luke’s voice is a little more icy than he’d like as he tries to lie Din down as gently as he can, while still keeping a grip on the child. “The Jedi is allowed to see.”
“I don’t think that’s how this works,” the former shock trooper says.
Luke doesn’t grace her with an answer. Din is lying in front of him, the child sitting next to him on the floor, and Luke wants to stare at him forever, but this isn’t really the best place or time, and Din is hurt. So, instead, Luke reaches for his head, cards his fingers through his hair as gently as he can, and tries to determine how bad the head wound is.
“It is,” the other Mandalorian woman, the one with the owl markings, says, then, and she sounds tired even through the voice modulator of her helmet. “You’re allowed to see, aren’t you? You’re aliit.”
It doesn’t seem like Din’s in immediate danger of bleeding out, so Luke reaches out through the Force, calls the helmet to him, and places it on Din’s head as gently as he can, careful not to hurt him. “I am,” he mumbles, a little distracted, and the second Mandalorian woman makes a strangled sound. “You can turn around.”
When they do, Luke is kneeling over Din, trying to make sure he’s not hurt anywhere else, as the child coos and tugs at his sleeve. “It’s alright, kid,” he says. “Your buir is going to be fine.”
“This is sweet and all,” the former shock trooper speaks up. “But how do you know the Mando?”
The owl woman sighs heavily, and takes off her helmet, revealing a head of bright red hair.
The other Mandalorian turns to face her. “Bo-Katan-“ she starts, but Bo-Katan interrupts her.
“He’s not an enemy,” she says, and then: “The Jedi is his husband.” She turns to face Luke fully, eyebrows raised. “You are, aren’t you?”
“I am. How’d you figure?”
“He called you Cyar’ika,” she explains in a tone of voice very similar to the one Leia uses when she calls Luke an idiot. “And you’re famously married.”
Luke stares up at her. “I wouldn’t say famously.”
“No, that’s accurate,” the former shock trooper says, staring between Din’s passed out form and Luke like she’s trying to make sense of the situation, and failing. “Rebel pilots are a chatty crowd.”
“And I know Mando’a wedding vows, obviously,” Bo-Katan goes on, completely ignoring both of them. She says the words in Mando’a, pronunciation a little different from Din’s, and then repeats them in common: “We will raise warriors.” She nods at where Grogu is still tugging on Luke’s sleeve with a raised eyebrow. “You’re not very subtle.”
“The Mando’s married to Luke Skywalker?” the shock trooper repeats, incredulous. “The Luke Skywalker? He didn’t even mention being married.”
Luke cringes a little. “He thought I was dead,” he explains, which is probably a bit redundant, considering she heard everything.
“Yeah, we figured,” the fourth woman speaks up. Luke distinctly remembers her face from a wanted poster. “Boba’s gonna love this.”
That throws Luke. “Fett?” he asks. “He’s alive?”
The woman just shrugs. Luke decides that’s a problem for another day. Right now, he has to get Din out of here.
He moves to throw one of Din’s arms across his shoulder to haul him up when Bo-Katan speaks up again. “I can’t let you take him.”
Luke turns towards her, and stands up. “You can’t let me take him?” he asks, very calm.
“He has the dark saber,” Bo-Katan says, as if that means anything to Luke. “I need to defeat him in combat.”
“He’s hurt,” Luke points out.
“He’ll wake up soon enough.”
Luke takes a step towards her, and even through his Jedi training, a little bit of anger slips into his voice. “If you know the vows so well you also know the part about sharing. What’s his is mine.” He stares her down as his hand drops to his lightsaber at his hip, which isn’t very Jedi-like of him at all. “You can either wait until he’s better, or you can try to fight me for it, right now.”
Almost like an afterthought, he adds, “I like my chances,” as if Bo-Katan hadn’t witnessed him taking out a dozen darktroopers barely half an hour ago.
Bo-Katan stares at him with narrowed eyes, clearly weighing her options. “Fine,” she snaps. “Tell your husband I’ll find him soon enough.” And then she turns away and makes her way out of the room without another word, the other Mandalorian woman following her silently.
When he’s sure they’re gone, he turns back to Din. The child is holding on to one of Din’s gloved fingers, and it makes a little noise up at Luke. He closes his eyes, very briefly. “Where’s his ship?”
The assassin speaks up. “The Crest got destroyed a couple days ago.”
Luke turns to stare at her, a little incredulous. “The Razor Crest?”
She shrugs. “Yeah. We had to give him a lift here.”
“He was still using the Razor Crest up until a few days ago? He’s lucky it only blew up now,” Luke says, momentarily distracted. “The wiring’s a nightmare. He told me he’d get it fixed but there’s no way he did.”
The shock trooper laughs, looking a little startled. “Oh, you’re his husband alright.”
And that does something to Luke, makes something warm coil in his stomach even though he really has bigger problems right now. “Okay,” Luke says, mostly to himself. “Alright.” And then to the two women: “I’m taking him to my ship. I have a medbay there. Unless one of you also wants to tell me I can’t take my husband home?”
Neither of them seem to have complaints. The shock trooper – Cara, she introduces herself – even helps him haul Din all the way to his ship, while the assassin, Fennec, carries the child after them. At the ship, Fennec says her goodbyes. Well, she places the baby in Luke’s arms and says, “I already have a lift,” and makes her way back up to the cockpit.
Luke turns to Cara. “I could use a ride to Nevarro?” she asks, and Luke nods.
Together, they get Din settled into the medbay, and then Cara leaves to start up the ship on her own, so Luke can take off Din’s helmet and patch up his head.
Luke is in the medbay a long time.
He treats Din’s wounds as best he can, and once he’s sure that Din is alright, that the only thing he needs right now is a rest, and possibly some pain killers when he wakes up, he sits down in one of the chairs, and tries to breathe, tries to get his hands to stop shaking.
The child coos at him from it’s perch on Din’s bed, and Luke forces a little smile. “I’m alright, little one,” he mumbles. “Don’t worry about me. I’m just surprised to see your buir.”
The child makes another cooing noise, puts a little hand on Din’s arm, and reaches out towards Luke in the Force. It’s thoughts are a bright mess, but through it all, Luke can feel it beckon him closer, so he scoots a little forward with his chair. The child slaps at Din’s arm a little, very softly.
Luke reaches out, and takes one of Din’s hands into his own. Their hands are rough against each other, both of them littered in callouses, but Din’s skin is warm against Luke’s, a physical reminder that he’s alive, that he’s here, and Luke brings it to his face, holds it against his forehead before he’s even aware of himself.
He hopes this is alright. Cyar’ika Din had called him, Beloved, but he’d also been concussed. The movement earns him a little pleased noise from the child, though, and he figures that’s good enough.
The child reaches out through the Force again – and it’s so talented, Luke doesn’t quite know how he’s still supposed to teach it – but this time, there’s no beckoning. Instead, it shows Luke memories.
Memories of Din. The very first time it saw him, and later when he’d saved it from the empire. Din, fighting a Mudhorn. Din, being a father.
Din, head tilted towards the starry sky, lost in thought, the Force around him heavy with longing.
Luke breaks.
The child stares up at him with it’s big eyes, and makes a confused little noise. Luke wipes at his tears, and smiles down at it. “I’m not hurt,” he reassures it. He grips at Din’s hand like it’s a lifeline. It is. “I just missed him.” And then: “Thank you.”
Later, once Luke’s tears have dried and the child – Grogu, it had introduced itself – is asleep and curled up at Din’s side, knocked out from using the Force, and once Luke has convinced himself that this is real, that he can turn away and they will still be there when he looks back, Luke makes his way into the cockpit to join Cara.
She turns around to face him, and doesn’t mention his red rimmed eyes. “The Mando and his kid alright?”
“Yeah,” Luke says. “Yeah, they’re both asleep.”
Cara looks him up and down. “How about you?”
“Overwhelmed,” Luke admits, honestly.
Cara just nods, and Luke settles into the copilot seat next to her. He’s not usually someone who trusts strangers with his ship, but Cara’s already proven herself more than capable, and Luke’s not entirely sure he should be flying right now.
It’s quiet for a long moment.
“I heard you were married,” Cara says out of nowhere. “Didn’t expect this, though.”
Luke chuckles despite himself. “Word used to spread fast in the rebellion, huh?”
“We all needed something to keep our mind off the war for a while,” Cara responds with a shrug. “You broke a lotta hearts, kid.”
In front of him, there’s the vast expanse of space, a sight Luke never quite got used to but still, the only thing he sees in front of his eyes is Din’s wide-eyed stare. “One too many.”
He can see Cara observe him out of the corner of her eye, trying to be subtle, but Luke can feel her curiosity seeping into the Force. “So, Mando thought you were dead,” she recaps, and Luke winces a little at the reminder.
“It was a long time ago,” Luke tries to explain. “Before I was a Jedi. Something happened and I got dragged into the rebellion. He thought I was another victim of the empire.”
Cara sounds somewhat accusing when she addresses Luke next. “And you never went looking for him?”
“I did,” Luke says. “For a while at least.” Cara raises her eyebrows.
“He’s not exactly an easy guy to find,” Luke says. “And you remember the old rebellion days.” Cara nods. “We were always on the run back then. Longest I ever stayed in one base was two months. And then, it became clear that the empire was hunting me specifically. I thought if I looked for him, I’d just put a target on his back.”
Luke leans his head back far enough for it to connect with his headrest. “And then the war was over, and suddenly everyone in the galaxy knew who I was, and no word from him.” Luke closes his eyes, takes a deep breath. When he opens them again, Cara’s turned away from him, giving him something like privacy, like she’s expecting him to cry. “I guess I just assumed he didn’t want to see me, or that he’d died.”
“I stopped looking for him,” Luke admits. “I didn’t want to face the truth.”
Cara’s quiet for a second. “Wasn’t the truth.”
Luke chuckles. “Wasn’t the truth,” he echoes, and runs a tired hand down his face. “Force, I was so stupid.”
“Just means you and the Mando make a great pair.”
Luke laughs despite himself. Cara just shrugs. “You’re the rebellion poster boy. If he hasn’t heard of you he must live under a rock.”
“In his defense, a lot of those rumors are exaggerated,” Luke says. “Wouldn’t blame him if he never paid attention to them.”
Cara rolls her eyes. “You’re too lenient.” She’s quiet for a second, and then: “The kid must be a surprise.”
Luke chuckles. “Not as much as you might think.”
Cara laughs a little. “Mando always have a bleeding heart, then?”
“Yeah,” Luke says. “He married me, didn’t he?”
“You seem alright.”
Luke just shakes his head. “I was just a farm boy from Tatooine, back then. And he was-“
He trails off. Din was everything he ever wanted.
Cara knocks their shoulders together companionably, a little too hard. “Don’t sell yourself short, Skywalker.”
Luke almost laughs. Leave it to Din to make friends that will storm an imperial cruiser with him, and then try to cheer up his long-lost husband. They talk a little more, Cara telling him of how she knows Din, Luke telling her where he’s taking him, but Luke has trouble paying attention. His mind keeps drifting back to Din, and the child, and the memories it showed him.
Din, looking up at the stars. Din, in the cruiser, calling Luke Cyar’ika.
For the first time in a long time, Luke hopes.
When they touch down on Nevarro, Din is still asleep in the medbay. Something must show on Luke’s face.
“Don’t worry so much, Skywalker,” Cara says, as she gets out of the pilot’s seat. “Last couple of days have been stressful. He’s just sleeping it off.”
Luke nods.
“Mando’s tough. He’ll be back on his feet in no time.”
“Thank you,” Luke says as they make their way out of the ship. And then: “For everything. For this, for looking out for him.”
She shrugs. “That’s what friends are for.”
Cara had landed just on the outskirts of Nevarro city, and Luke can just hear the chatter of it as they say goodbye.
“Tell the Mando if I don’t hear from him in two days, I’m storming that temple.”
Luke smiles, despite the threat. It’s nice to know that Din has friends that care for him like this, that care enough to threaten a Jedi. “I will.”
Cara holds out her hand, and Luke reaches for it. “I do hope everything works out between you two,” she says, then, voice a little softer.
For a second, Luke fights the urge to hug her. He doesn’t think she’d appreciate it. “Thank you.”
“Someone’s gotta look after him, you know?” She grins, and squeezes his hand a little before letting go. “I figure someone’s gotta look after you, too.” And then she does a little mock salute, turns without another word, and makes her way into Nevarro city.
The flight back to Yavin IV is quiet. Din and the child sleep through it, as Luke sits alone in the cockpit, trying to make sense of everything. He doesn’t quite manage it.
There’s more than enough empty rooms in the temple, and Luke puts Din and Grogu into the one closest to his own.
And then, he doesn’t know what to do.
Ever since he first saw Din again, there was always something to do. There was always adrenaline running through his veins, keeping him upright, and there was always a next step. Get Din out of there, get him patched up, get him home.
Now, there’s nothing left, no next steps. Luke doesn’t know what to do.
So, he puts Din’s helmet on the bedside table, presses a kiss into his hair, and leaves.
The sun is just coming up as Luke makes his way into the fields surrounding his temple.
Notes:
Actual dialogue? In this fic? It's more likely than you think
Also idk if any of you actually read through the Tumblr post i linked in chapter 1 but in it din ends up passed out in a chair, which i ignored cause the thought of din just passed tf out on the floor while Luke and bo-katan have their little stare down is so fucking funny to me personally
Also, quick translation: aliit - clan, family
Chapter Text
Din finds Luke as he’s trying to meditate in a field. Luke can feel his approach, even with his eyes closed, Din’s agitation so strong it taints the Force around him.
Luke opens his eyes, just as Din spots him, and then Din is rushing across the field towards him, and Luke barely has the time to stand up before Din is on him, throwing his arms around Luke’s waist, hugging him tight and almost taking him off his feet. “Luke,” Din says, right against his ear, and even through the modulator, Luke can pick up on the relief in his voice. “Luke. I thought you were gone again.”
It takes Luke a second, but finally, his brain catches up, and he moves his arms around Din’s shoulders, hugs him tight right back, buries his face in Din’s neck, and just breathes.
On the ship, he had held Din’s hand, and worried he wasn’t allowed to. Now, that he knows he is, Luke grips at Din’s shoulders for dear life.
“I woke up, and you weren’t there, and I thought maybe it was a hallucination.”
“I’m sorry,” Luke mumbles into Din’s neck. He’s wearing the helmet, and the edge of it is pressing uncomfortably against Luke’s shoulder, but nothing in the galaxy could make Luke let go right now. “I’m sorry. I should have stayed with you.”
Din’s grip on his waist eases a little. Luke hopes he won’t let go. “It’s alright,” Din mumbles. “You’re here now.”
Luke can feel the Force all around him, bright and happy and relieved, and that’s all the answer he ever needed. Din is so happy to see him it almost knocks the breath out of Luke’s lungs. “I missed you so much,” Luke says into his neck, and then: “I didn’t think I’d ever get to see you again.”
“Me too,” Din says. “I missed you too.” He pulls away a little, just enough to look at Luke’s face. “Where were you?”
Something heavy settles in Luke’s stomach. Dread at having to explain himself, maybe, or fear. Luke isn’t sure. Din’s arms around his waist loosen a little when Luke doesn’t answer, and whatever he was feeling gets overpowered by the desperate wish that Din won’t let go of him. He doesn’t. Instead, he carefully settles his hands on Luke’s hips, a little like he’s not sure he’s allowed to. “Luke?”
Luke smiles. He can’t help it, not when Din is here, and just as careful with him as he was on Tatooine. Acting on muscle memory from when they were younger, Luke unhooks his arms from around Din’s neck, and puts his hands on his beskar chest plate instead. The metal is cool against Luke’s palms, but the hands on his hips are warm, even through two layers of clothing, and they’re a comfort as Luke talks about everything.
“After what happened at the farm, I got dragged into the rebellion,” Luke starts, carefully, and even through his robes, he can feel Din’s thumb run gently across his hips in a soothing motion as he listens patiently. “I didn’t have a way to reach you. And then I found out I was a Jedi.”
Din is quiet, but the movement of his thumb doesn’t stop, giving Luke something to focus on, something to ground him.
“The Jedi and the Mandalorians are ancient enemies,” Luke tries to explain himself. “I guess I just thought, since you never sought me out-“
“I thought you were dead,” Din interrupts, voice urgent. “I don’t care about ancient rivalries. If I’d known you were alive, Luke, I-“
“I know.”
And Luke does know. He knows what Din is feeling, because if he’d known that Din was out there, still thinking of him, Luke would’ve made his way to his side years ago. He moves his hands to Din’s helmet, and gently pulls until it connects with his own forehead, closing his eyes. “I know.”
They’re both quiet for a moment, leaning against each other. The last time they did this, they were saying goodbye. Now, they’re saying hello.
Then, Luke pulls away a little. “We’re on Yavin IV,” he says, and Din tilts his head, like he’s not sure what that has to do with anything. “The rebellion headquarters used to be here, back in the war. After they left-” He makes a vague sweeping gesture, trying to show the vast emptiness around them. “Nobody left on this planet but me. And you, now.”
He can feel Din’s understanding blooming in the Force, but still he asks, “Can I take off your helmet?”
“Yes,” Din says instantly. “Of course.”
So, Luke does. Lifts the helmet, slowly, carefully, giving Din every opportunity to change his mind, until it reveals Din. And Luke hadn’t quite gotten a chance to really look at him, before.
Age suits him, somehow. There’s lines around his eyes now, hints of grey in his beard, and he looks just as handsome as he had, nine years ago. He’s smiling, and Luke can’t quite believe he ever managed to convince himself he could live without ever seeing him again.
Luke’s hand finds Din’s cheek. He can feel rough stubble beneath his palm, and he can’t help but grin. “You grew it out.”
Din leans into the touch a little. “I did. It reminded me of you.”
Luke could cry. Instead, he brings their foreheads together, no cold metal in the way this time. “I was right,” he breathes into the space between them. “It suits you.”
“Thank you,” Din says, and kisses him.
It’s a long moment until Luke can think straight again. It takes a little bit longer still until Luke can get himself to pull away from Din, just enough to speak.
“Now, how long do I have to go missing for you to grow out the hair as well?”
Din looks a little startled as he laughs, which is a nice look on him. Everything’s a nice look on him. “Please don’t even joke about that.”
“It’d look nice.”
“It’d be very inconvenient.”
Din sounds exasperated, but he’s smiling down at Luke, and Luke feels lighter than he has in nine years.
Nine years of doubt, only for them to find each other again. They’re both different people now, and they’ll have to talk about that, about everything that happened, but for now, Luke can be happy knowing that they still fit together like puzzle pieces, even if their shape has changed over the years.
“Mhi solus tome,” he thinks. We are one when together.
Luke’s an adult, now, and a Jedi, building his own school and Din’s a father now – and that’s doing things to Luke that it really shouldn’t, but the way he’d felt Din’s love for Grogu through the Force had left him breathless, and the way he’d held the child so gently won’t leave Luke’s mind – and still, Din looks at him the same way he had when they were younger, back on Tatooine.
Luke could cry. He doesn’t.
“I was so worried you wouldn’t want me anymore,” he admits into the space between them.
“I want you,” Din says, honestly. “I think I’ll want you for the rest of my life.”
Something catches in Luke’s throat as Din looks at him for a long second, considering. Distinctly, Luke wonders whether he’s doing the same thing Luke is, looking for all the differences in his face, all the ways he’s changed, or all the similarities, all the ways Luke is still that farm boy from Tatooine that liked to show him pod racing tricks.
It doesn’t matter, he supposes. Din could stare at him forever, and Luke wouldn’t mind. Because Din’s eyes are so brown, and Luke had forgotten the exact color of them over the last nine years, and he hadn’t even noticed. Din could stare at him forever, and Luke would stare right back, trying to commit every part of him to memory.
“Will you have me again?” Din asks then, voice very soft.
“Of course,” Luke says instantly. He would have Din, always. “I think I’ll want you for the rest of my life, too.”
Din closes his eyes at the admission, and Luke misses the sight of them instantly. He takes a deep breath, opens them again, and asks, “You remember the vows?”
Luke grins up at him. The vows. He’s carried them with him for nine years, on some foolish hope. He would remember them until the day he died. “Mhi solus tome, mhi solus dar'tome, mhi me'dinui an, mhi ba'juri verde.”
We are one when together, we are one when parted, we will share all, we will raise warriors.
Din looks a little surprised, but he gets over it quickly enough. “Mhi solus tome, mhi solus dar'tome, mhi me'dinui an, mhi ba'juri verde,” he echoes.
Din’s hair is soft underneath Luke’s palms, and Din’s hands are heavy on his hips, and there’s nothing that could make Luke stop grinning right now. “My husband,” he says, and Din smiles back at him just as brightly. “This time, when you leave, you give me a comm code, okay?”
Din laughs. “Anything.” He presses a kiss into Luke’s cheek. “I’ll give you anything.”
“I think you’ve given me enough today.”
Din shrugs, but the smile on his face doesn’t waver. “I have nine years to make up for.”
“We both do,” Luke says. “Good thing we have all the time in the world.”
Din knocks their foreheads together, ever so gently. “Good thing.”
Luke laughs with joy. “Gods, I missed you.”
“Me too,” Din says. “I never stopped thinking about you.”
“Yeah?” Luke prompts. He remembers lying alone in some cold rebellion hideout, hoping Din was thinking about him as well. The revelation that he was is- It’s overwhelming. It warms Luke to the core, makes him want to hold onto Din forever.
“Yeah,” Din replies. “I used to imagine what you would be like if you hadn’t-“
Died, hangs heavy in the air between them. Luke brings his palms to Din’s cheeks, runs his thumb across Din’s cheekbone. “And what would I have been like?” he asks, softly.
Din leans into his touch a little. “A farmer, sometimes.”
Luke scoffs.
Din laughs. “I know. But it was nice to imagine you somewhere safe, somewhere I could return home to.”
Luke presses a kiss against the corner of Din’s lips, just for a second. “What else?”
“Some sort of traveler,” Din goes on and absentmindedly moves his hands as he talks, up across Luke’s waist and ribs, like he’s not even aware of it, and it drives Luke a little insane. “A teacher, maybe. You always liked kids. Or a smuggler. You always liked adventure more.”
Luke makes a humming noise. Three weeks, they’d spent with each other, and it had apparently been enough time for Din to figure Luke out in his entirety. “What else?”
Din’s hands settle back on Luke’s hips, and his face splits into a grin. “A pilot for the rebellion.”
Luke laughs. “Now you’re messing with me.”
“I’m not,” Din says and leans forward to press a kiss into Luke’s cheek. “You’re just very predictable.”
“I think you might be the only person in the galaxy that thinks that.”
Din shrugs, and then his face turns a bit somber, catching Luke off-guard. “Remember when I promised you I’d show you the whole galaxy, one day?” Din asks then, and Luke nods. “Did I miss my chance?”
Luke threads his fingers through Din’s hair, and feels something in his stomach unspool when Din closes his eyes at the touch. “We’ll find a planet neither of us has been to,” he proposes. Din’s hands on his hips squeeze a little, like he’s trying to show he’s listening, and it makes Luke chuckle. “We can show it to each other.”
Din opens his eyes again. He’s smiling, and he pulls Luke in a little closer, so that they’re chest-to-chest, cold beskar pressing into Luke’s robes.
“I’d like that.”
Later, when they’ve checked on Grogu – and he was still fast asleep in Din’s bed, sleeping off all the excitement of the past few days – and when Luke has shown them around his temple a bit, they’re back in that field.
Grogu’s over by the pond, terrorizing the local frog population – “He eats just about everything,” Din explains, sounding ridiculously tired, “I’ve given up trying to stop him. I just pray he doesn’t get sick.” – and they’re sitting in the grass, keeping watch as they try to find a planet neither of them has been to.
They haven’t had any luck yet.
One of them will name a planet, and the other one will shake his head, and then they’ll share a story, and it’s like this that they tell each other of the past nine years.
Luke lets himself fall back into the grass as he tells Din about his time on Hoth, trying to soak up as much sun as he can – because Hoth was a dreadful, cold place that Luke never quite managed to make his home, but it was also the first time he ever saw snow, so his days there will always hold a special place in his heart - and Din follows him down.
Din reaches out, takes his hand, and when Luke talks about when he ultimately had to leave Hoth, when the empire caught up with them once again, he pulls it up to his mouth and presses a kiss into the palm, comforting.
Over by the pond, there’s a loud splashing noise, and Din is up in an instant, scanning their surroundings. There’s no disturbance in the Force, though, not even the slightest hint of discomfort coming from Grogu.
“It’s alright,” Luke says, because he can feel Din’s worry heavy all around them. “It must have been the birds.”
Din looks down at him, doubt clear on his face. Luke sits up a little, and points at where he can just see Grogu’s ears peak out of the high grass. “He’s fine.” Luke reaches out his arms a little, making wholly undignified grabby hands. “Come back, Cyar’ika.”
Din stares at him, wide-eyed. “You-“
“I learned a little,” Luke admits, a bit embarrassed. “It reminded me of you. Kept me busy during the war. I hope it’s alright.”
“It’s alright,” Din says instantly, sounding a little strangled, and a slow smile spreads over Luke’s face.
“You like it,” he points out, voice full of wonder. “Don’t you, ner ca’tra?”
Din’s face is red. Luke’s never seen it that shade before, and he mentally makes a note that he needs to make Din blush more often. It suits him. It mellows out his edges, makes him wholly Din, Luke’s Din, and not the Mando.
“I do,” Din admits, because they both know he’s a terrible liar. He takes one final look at Grogu, who’s waddled out of the high grass in pursuit of a frog, and then he bends down.
Luke grabs at his shoulders the second he’s within reach, slinging his arms around Din’s neck as Din presses a kiss against his lips. “I like it a lot.” Din kisses him again.
Luke chuckles against his lips. “I can tell.”
Din pulls away a little, but Luke’s arms stay firmly in place around his neck, keeping him bent over uncomfortably. “You’re full of surprises, mesh’la.”
This time, it’s Luke’s turn to blush a bright red. “It’s unfair when you do it.”
Din chuckles, and Luke is just about to fully pull him back down but then-
“Aboo!” Grogu says, right next to them, holding out a wildflower, and they startle apart.
Din is the first one to recover from the shock. “Hey buddy,” he says, voice soft. “Is that for us?”
Grogu just holds the flower out a bit higher in Din’s direction, and Din crouches down to take it from his little hands. “Thank you.”
Grogu nods a little, and coos up at Din as he carefully holds on to it. “I’ll put it in water later, alright?”
Grogu nods again, apparently satisfied with Din’s reaction, and with that, he turns, and climbs into Luke’s lap, as Luke just stares down at him.
“Ah,” Din says. “Do you want me to take him?”
Luke reaches a careful hand down, runs a finger across one of Grogu’s ears, and Grogu coos up at him in return. “No.” Grogu is so bright in the Force, and through it all, there’s one thought standing out. Tired. “It’s fine. He’s just tired.”
Grogu grabs at his finger, and Luke doesn’t think he’s ever seen a cuter baby in his life. “Hey, verd’ika.”
Din makes a little choked-off sound, and Luke chuckles. He turns his face up towards him again as Grogu settles in his lap to take a nap. “You been to Sorgan before?”
Din stares at him for just a second before he catches on. “Yeah,” he says, and settles back down next to Luke to tell him the story.
Out in the warm afternoon of Yavin IV, with Grogu in his lap and Din next to him, Luke is happy.
Luke is at peace.
Notes:
in case anyone's wondering why Luke keeps going on about Din growing out his hair and beard, it's because i recently watched massive talent, and i'm obsessed with how pedro pascal looks in it. Personally, i think if he looked like that in Mando season 3, it'd cure all of my mental illness
Translations:
ner ca'tra - my night sky
mesh'la - beautiful
verd'ika - little warrior
Chapter Text
Luke wakes up to an empty bed and the sound of Leia yelling. It’s not the first time he’s woken up to that, but he’d really hoped that once he moved out of his last rebel base and into his own little temple, he’d never have to go through a morning like that again.
He was wrong, as he so often is.
She doesn’t sound scared or hurt, just angry, so Luke figures it’s not life or death, and actually bothers to get dressed before he investigates. He follows the sound all the way down the hall into the kitchen, where he finds a truly strange picture.
Din is sitting at one of the tables, wearing his full armor and with two cups of caf on the table in front of him, pointing a blaster at the main entrance. Or more specifically, at Han, who’s blocking the main entrance, Leia next to him shouting abuse. Ben, who’s apparently quite used to people aiming blasters at his dad, is making tea.
Din is halfway through some vague threat, something about a friend who’d be delighted if Din shot Han where he stood, when he spots Luke.
“Luke,” he greets. “When you told me about your brother-in-law Han, I didn’t think you meant Han Solo.”
When Luke responds, the sulk in his voice is only half-serious. “You’ve heard of Han but not me?”
Din shrugs. “Almost took a bounty on him once.”
Han stares between them open-mouthed. “You know this guy, Luke?” Leia next to him rolls her eyes.
“Of course, I know him,” Luke responds, and makes his way over to Din. He puts a hand on his shoulder, and Din lowers his blaster, even though Han’s stays firmly trained on him. “This is Din,” Luke introduces, and he can see recognition bloom on Leia’s face even before he can finish his sentence. “He’s my husband.”
“Your husband,” Han repeats dumbly. “You found him. He’s real.”
“What do you mean he’s real? Of course, he’s real.”
“Listen kid, I’ll be honest,” Han says. “I always assumed you made him up when you were 19 and just kept up the lie since it’d be embarrassing to admit now.”
Beneath his palms, Luke can feel Din’s shoulders rise a little, and he can just hear the sound of Din snorting, barely audible through the modulator. He swats at Din’s shoulder. “Don’t laugh at me.”
Din chuckles, and Han stares between them like he can’t believe what he’s seeing.
Leia takes the situation as she does most things in her life, which is to say with incredible grace, and just leaves her husband standing in the doorway, open-mouthed and with his blaster half-raised, to make her way over to Din and Luke. “I’ve heard a lot about you,” she says politely, and looks down at him, considering.
Din turns his helmet up a little to face her. There’s a second where the two stare each other down, on some shared wavelength that Luke doesn’t understand, and then Din nods. “I’ve heard a lot about you, too.”
Then, he holds out a hand, and Leia grips at it without hesitation. “It’s nice to finally meet you,” she says and, to Luke’s relief, sounds like she means it.
Din nods at her. “Likewise.” He shakes her hand. “Thank you for looking out for Luke.”
Finally, she smiles. “Someone had to.”
Din chuckles.
Without another word, Leia settles in the chair across from Din, and finally, Han joins them, somewhat reluctantly sitting down next to his wife. He nods at Din, and then Ben makes his way over with three cups of tea, which he places on the table before raising his arms at Han, who wordlessly picks him up and lets him settle in his lap.
And just like that, for the first time ever, Luke has his entire family in one place.
Well, almost, but Grogu’s right down the hall, still asleep and safe, and that’s good enough for Luke.
Din turns his helmet to face Luke, the only one still standing, and tilts his head a little. “I made you a cup of caf.”
Luke can’t help but smile. “Thank you,” he says, and bends over a little to knock his forehead against Din’s helmet.
“Oh, that’s sweet,” Han says, sounding incredibly disgusted. He turns to Leia. “Is this how you would act if we were separated for nine years?”
Leia holds his gaze. “If I didn’t see you for nine years, I’d thank the Force every single day.”
“Well, we both know that’s a lie.”
Luke can’t help but laugh as he finally settles into the seat next to Din’s. The cup in front of him is lukewarm, but when Luke tries it, he finds that it’s made exactly the way he’s always taken it, and that little reminder that Din remembers their time together just as much as Luke still warms him to the core.
Han turns back to face Luke and Din, eyebrows raised. “So how did you two meet each other again?”
“He saved my life,” Din says. “I was stuck on an Imperial cruiser.”
Leia raises her eyebrows. “And why were you on an Imperial cruiser to begin with?”
“Moff Gideon took something that belongs to me. I went to get it back.”
Leia looks like she wants to say something else, but then Ben, who’d been looking back and forth between his mom and Din while they were talking, speaks up. “Are you really strong?” he asks Din.
“Not as strong as your Uncle Luke,” Din responds, and Han rolls his eyes.
“Your armor’s really cool,” Ben goes on. “Did you make it yourself?”
Din’s voice is soft when he answers, the way it always is when he talks to Grogu, and Luke almost melts. “A friend made it for me.”
Ben looks a little excited. “Can your friend make one for me as well?”
Din is quiet for a second, and turns to face Leia, who just shrugs. “Maybe when you’re a little older,” he settles on, finally.
“Don’t turn my kid into a Mandalorian,” Han says, though he doesn’t sound particularly serious.
Ben turns his face up a little to look his father in the face, eyes wide and curious. “You can become a Mandalorian?”
“No,” Han responds instantly. “You can’t.”
Leia rolls her eyes. To Ben, she says, “You can ask Din all about it some other time, okay? I have to talk to your Uncle Luke for a second.”
Ben looks between his parents with big eyes, and nods.
Leia turns towards Luke, eyebrows raised meaningfully. “And when were you going to tell us about you finding your long-lost husband again? Or about invading an imperial cruiser?”
Luke avoids her eyes, and decidedly does not pout. “I was going to comm you today. We only arrived here yesterday and were busy catching up.”
“Right,” Han says slowly, and Luke’s known him long enough to dread the tone of voice he uses. In the flash of a second, Han has one hand covering his son’s eyes and the other one on Luke’s collar, and an instant later, Din’s hand is firmly wrapped around Han’s wrist – which does things to Luke’s insides that it really shouldn’t – but the damage is already done. Han has pulled the fabric down just enough to reveal a nice purple bruise that sits at the hollow of Luke’s throat.
Luke knows it’s there, because he’d caught sight of it earlier in the fresher, while he was getting dressed. Because he’d stood there in front of his mirror for almost a minute, momentarily distracted from the commotion in his kitchen and admired it. Pressed his fingers against it, and smiled at the pleasant ache, because it was a physical reminder of Din, of the fact that he’s finally home again, of the fact that he wants Luke, still.
He'd thought his collar did enough to conceal it, but Han’s always had keen eyes.
Han turns to face Din, eyebrows raised, and Din releases his wrist, if somewhat reluctantly. “I can see you two were real busy,” Han drawls, grin on his lips that side of mocking. “Didn’t think you had it in you, kid.”
For the first time in his life, Luke envies Din for his helmet, because while Din remains impassive, unreadable, even though Luke can pick up his embarrassment through the Force, Luke’s shame is clear to see on his face, which is bright red.
He swats Han’s hand away. “Shut up,” he says, eloquently, and Han laughs as he lifts his hand from Ben’s eyes.
Leia swats at Han’s arm. “Don’t be crude,” she chastises, but Luke knows well enough she’s enjoying this just as much as Han is. They’ve always had the same sense of humor, at least when it concerns Luke’s suffering, though Leia refuses to admit it.
“C’mon, princess, I’m just happy for the kid,” Han says, and Leia raises an eyebrow. “He was such a heartbreaker in the rebellion, I was sure he’d stay alone forever.”
Din tilts his head curiously, and Luke’s face feels like it’s on fire, it’s so red. He half-considers kicking Han under the table to get him to shut up before he can mention all those times Luke has been hit on in shady cantinas and how Luke would take every opportunity he was given to talk about his marital status, but he knows full well that that wouldn’t stop Han for a second.
So, naturally, Luke is quite happy to see Grogu toddle into the room, effectively saving him from more embarrassment. Din is up in an instant, rushing to the door to meet him, and Leia and Han follow his movement across the kitchen so obviously it’s ridiculous.
“Hey kid,” Din coos at Grogu, and Han’s mouth falls open. “I was just about to check on you.”
“What is that?” Han asks dumbly. Leia hits his arm, but he doesn’t even react, too focused on Din as he crouches down to gently pick Grogu up
“That,” Luke says, “is Grogu. My first student.”
At the mention of his name, Grogu turns to face their table. Luke smiles and does a little wave at him, and Grogu blinks back at him slowly, clearly curious about the strangers.
Han stares at him. “And he’s the Mando’s-“
“Son,” Luke finishes the sentence for him when he trails off. “Yeah.”
Han stares between Luke and Din. “So the Mando’s-“
“I’m not green,” Din says, as he makes his way back over to them and puts Grogu down on the table. “He’s a foundling.”
Han looks up at him, doubt clear on his face as Grogu makes his slow way over to where Ben is wiggling his little fingers at him. Before Han has the chance to go on, however, Leia speaks up. She’s staring at something hanging from Din’s hip. “Is that the Darksaber?”
Han turns to stare at his wife. “Are you really ignoring that Luke’s Mando has a green child?”
Leia doesn’t even grace him with an answer, too focused on Din, who is very quiet, all of a sudden. Luke remembers something. “Oh yeah, Bo-Katan said she wanted to fight you for it.”
“Kryze?” Leia asks, voice deceptively calm.
“What did you do to get her to back off, anyway?” Din asks, at the same time.
“I told her to either wait until you’re better, or fight me for it.”
Both Leia and Din turn to stare at him. Han is busy trying to pry Grogu’s claws from where he has somehow managed to grab at Han’s hair, while Ben laughs at him.
Din is wearing his helmet, but Luke can practically feel something like amazement roll off him in the Force, and he preens a little under the attention. He picks up a very different emotion from Leia.
“You told Bo-Katan Kryze to fight you?” she asks, and she says the name like Luke’s supposed to know who that is.
He’s suddenly very defensive. “Din was passed out, and she kept going on about defeating him in combat.”
“Luke,” Leia says, very slowly. “Do you even know what the Darksaber is?”
Luke avoids her eyes. “It’s a sword that Bo-Katan wants?”
Leia sighs heavily. “Yeah,” she says, and then, “And she wants it because having it would make her the Mand’alor.”
Din is still quiet as Luke turns to stare at him.
“Meaning you’re married to the current Mand’alor,” Leia points out, deadpan.
“You’re-“ Luke starts.
“I’m not,” Din interrupts him. “I don’t want to be. I tried to give it to Bo-Katan, but she wouldn’t take it.”
“Because she needs to win it in combat,” Leia explains helpfully. “Assuming you won it in combat?”
Din sighs heavily. “I did. But it wasn’t intentional.”
“You unintentionally won the Darksaber in combat?” Luke repeats, a little dumbly. “You’re a king?”
Han stares between the three. “We can’t have more royalty in the family.”
“I’m not going to stay the Mand’alor,” Din says, decisively. “Someone’s going to win the Darksaber from me soon enough.”
“I think you’d make a great Mand’alor, Uncle Din,” Ben speaks up, and Din turns to stare at him.
“Thank you, Ben,” he says, and Luke can hear that he’s a little choked up. Han can apparently also hear it, since he bursts out laughing. In his lap, Ben is carefully petting at Grogu’s head as Grogu coos up at him, which is so cute Luke almost forgets the whole Mand’alor business.
Almost.
“Does this make me royalty too?” he asks, and he can’t keep his grin down. “Leia keeps telling me that just because I’m her brother doesn’t mean I’m royalty.”
“No,” Din says. “This doesn’t make you royalty. I’m not keeping it.”
“Your official title would be prince consort,” Leia points out, completely glossing over Din.
Din looks between the twins. Luke grins at him. “It has a nice ring to it, don’t you think, Mand’alor?”
“Cyar’ika,” Din says emphatically. “You’re killing me.”
Luke bursts out laughing. “I’ll teach you how to use the Darksaber,” he proposes then. “It’ll be fun.”
“Yeah!” Ben agrees. “I wanna see you and Uncle Din fight!”
Din looks between Ben and Luke, and sighs, defeated. “You’ll go easy on me?”
Luke bumps their shoulders a little, and smiles. “No way.”
Later, they will make their way out into the fields of Yavin VI, and Luke will show Din some simple lightsaber katas as Grogu takes a nap in the shadow of a tree. A little bit later still, Grogu will be in bed, and they’ll spar with practice swords, and it’ll take Din ten rounds to finally win a match, only barely, and they’ll laugh, and lie back, exhausted, in the soft grass to watch the stars, the way they used to on Tatooine.
For now, they sit in Luke’s kitchen, and catch up. Han makes bad jokes and Ben looks up at Din like he’s the coolest person he’s ever seen. Leia asks Din about Mandalore, about his work, about Grogu, and Grogu, at the mention of his name, toddles over to her and holds out a hand, and Leia gives him a finger to hold on to without hesitation, and Luke’s home.
For a second, Luke remembers being a farm boy, back on Tatooine, all alone on the roof and looking up at the stars, full of hope.
Luke grabs at Din’s hand under the table, and Din intertwines their fingers without hesitation, runs a gloved thumb across Luke’s skin softly, reassuringly.
Luke is 28 and sitting at his kitchen table with a lukewarm cup of caf and surrounded by his family, he has more than he ever hoped for.
Notes:
thanks to everyone who left kudos and comments! I get rly in my head about answering comments so I just don't do it but they're always appreciated! I usually don't post multi chapter stuff so it was fun to see peoples reactions and theories with every chapter. Thanks!!
And also thanks for reading!! Hope you all liked it
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