Archive of Our Own

The rising western sun promised a hot day ahead, which made Luke happy he had been up well before it to do his few usual chores. Having the hot days off in late summer always came as some sort of blessing, since they were usually worse than the hot days any other time of the year. Biggs and Jo had the luck to be on duty for the next few days.

After the cattle and horses were fed, and treats snuck to a few, Luke ended up on Cobb’s porch, drinking coffee and sharing cinnamon rolls with his boss.

“Y’know, I should take all my food you eat outta your pay.” Cobb snorted as he shoved a napkin into Luke’s hands, rolling his eyes. 

“Oh, you love sharing with me. You hate leftovers.” Luke rebutted, licking his fingers clean-ish before using the napkin. He thought about tossing it back at Cobb, but refrained. For now.

“‘Least I know you’re eating when you’re over here.” Cobb set his coffee down before shrugging off his overshirt, the heat of the day settling in like a blanket over the world.

Luke tried not to flinch at that statement, but he did feel bad for worrying Cobb. And Leia, and Han, and his uncles, and - well, everyone had been worried about him the last couple of years. He’d gone down hill for a while.

But he was working on it, and his friends and family were patient. 

“Cobb,” Luke poked at his friend’s bicep, his eyes transfixed on the new tattoo there. It was scabbed over, but Luke hadn’t seen Cobb without sleeves on for a few weeks now. The sun was too harsh in the fields. “Nice addition! What’s this?”

“Luke,” Cobb swatted towards his hand like an annoying fly, urging him away from the fresh ink. “Damn sure hope you know what a horse looks like, ya work with ‘em all the time.”

Luke clicked his tongue and scoffed, shaking his head. “I’m not talking about Marshal’s portrait. What’s this? The symbol on the bridle?”

Next to Cobb’s signature bridle marker, which was a simple red plate with white stripes, another one was snuck in. This symbol looked like a rhino with a longer horn. He wasn’t sure why looking at it made his hand itch, which was a whole new level of shock. He didn’t have feeling in his right hand, not since the accident he’d had on Vader.

Damn that bull.

*******

“Yer own father cut off yer hand?” Cobb didn’t even try to hide the shock in his voice.

“Well…” Luke shrugged half heartedly, his mind racing. “ Technically ‘Vader’ wasn’t my father. Anakin Skywalker was. When the Darkside takes over, it’s… It gets complicated.”

“Gotcha.” Cobb muttered, then he sighed and leaned back in the booth, looking at Luke with a sad expression. “Y’know… I always thought they were your parents. Yer aunt an’ uncle. An’ when the news spread…”

“I know. Everyone thought I had died with them too.” Luke took a gulp of his drink before he spoke again, “To think, all I wanted was to be off that moisture farm… Some days, all I want now is to go back.”

“No use in wallowin’ in the past, kid.” Cobb nudged him, both trying to be reassuring and lighten the mood, “‘Sides, we got off topic. I was gonna tell ya how I got the cybernetic arm!”

“And the whole business with that mudhorn sigil on it too.” Luke eyed the polished mudhorn once more, vaguely remembering seeing it once before.

Oh, that was right - on the Mandalorian when he retrieved Grogu.

“That’s the easy part. My boyfriend took up the mudhorn as his sigil after Mando helped in the battle. Somethin’ about being a king of their kind so Boba took his symbol, and offered it t’me as a sign of protection.” Cobb explained, then he must have seen Luke’s face of shock.

“If you tell me your boyfriend is the new Daimyo, aka Boba Fett, I’m going to need a stronger drink.” Luke slowly set the glass of spotchka down, eyes wide and not leaving Cobb’s face.

Cobb snorted and motioned towards the bar, “Taanti! A round’a the good stuff!”

Luke felt the groan in the pit of his stomach before it bubbled out of him, joining Cobb’s joyful laugh in the air. This was going to be a long night. 

*******

“Oh, the uh… Fuck, I think he called it a mudhorn? It’s just my tattoo artist’s signature, y’know.” Cobb glanced at him, reaching out to swat Luke’s hand away from where it was, evidently, now scratching his right hand. “Stop that, you’re gonna scratch right through your skin. Know ya can’t feel it, but don’t make it worse.”

He almost wanted to argue that he could, in fact, suddenly feel it being itchy, but Luke stayed quiet. Being rushed off to the hospital for more testing was not how he wanted to spend his day off. Besides, he now knew what he wanted to do with his free time.

A trip into town did sound enticing.

“Does he take walk-ins?” Luke asked, finally forcing his gaze away from the mudhorn.

“Hm… Not usually, he’s always booked up.” Cobb must have seen the pout on Luke’s face, because he quickly added, “But I’m datin’ his landlord, so I could pull a few strings. An’ I tip him damn well.”

“You’re engaged to his landlord.” Luke teased, finally sitting back in his chair and looking out over the pastures. “Will you call Boba for a favor? Please?”

Cobb snorted, “If you’re that pressed I’ll just call Din himself. What’s yer itch for new ink?”

Luke inwardly winced at Cobb’s choice of words, let alone the question itself. He had no real reason for wanting a new tattoo so suddenly. He had been thinking about it, but he had so many now that he had to be careful about just random placement. Right now, though, he just - needed to get one done. For no reason. Or for some reason, one he couldn’t quite place.

“Just… been a while.” Luke shrugged, “I haven't had a new one since Han ran that huge slaughterhouse rescue of all those wild horses.”

“That was like 3 years ago, kid.” Cobb snorted, “Fuck, that was before I even met Boba!”

“Exactly! I need ink therapy!” Luke laughed, then shook his head, “Please pull your strings?” 

Cobb rolled his eyes before huffing and retrieving his phone, “Fine, fine. But I ain’t goin’ with you. Someone’s gotta work around here.”

“I’m 26, I can handle myself. Thank you Cobb!” Luke beamed at him, sitting back to wait.

His hand had stopped itching, stopped feeling, once more. But he swore every time he glanced at the mudhorn symbol there was a distinctly fuzzy but warm feeling in the center of his mind that rolled down his spine with a weird familiarity. 

*******

“ Jet’ika? ”

“Hm? Yes, Din?”

“What… is that feeling?”

Luke strained to understand what feeling he was talking about, furrowing his brows beneath the blindfold. He didn’t feel like moving, his whole body little more than jelly at the moment. And thinking through the post-sex fog was asking for a lot from him.

“What feeling?” He managed, not wanting to guess for the next ten minutes.

“It’s a… A warm feeling. A buzz. In the back of my skull.” Din said as he ran a hand slowly up Luke’s back, using the feeling to ground himself from his rising anxiety. “Are you doing that?”

“Hmm… Not consciously.” Luke lifted his head, silently asking for another kiss from his Mandalorian. After a long, languid kiss, Luke smiled against Din’s lips and sighed, “I know what you’re feeling.”

“What is it?” Din asked, reaching up to cup Luke’s cheek. He was always very handsy like this, after they’d exhausted themselves from a battle and further exhausted each other.

“A Force bond. Of sorts. We’ll always be connected.” Luke shifted, feeling the Force shift around them. “Mm… Grogu is crying.”

Din stopped him when he tried to get up. “Stay. I’ll go take care of him.”

He touched their foreheads together before he moved out of the bed. Luke heard the sounds of Din dressing before the distinct noise of Din’s helmet being lifted from the bedside table. Before he left, Din stopped to lift the blindfold off of Luke and card a hand through his hair a few times.

Neither of them spoke, but they didn’t have to. This was one of the comfortable moments of silence between them. That soft bliss they had carved out for themselves in a harsh galaxy. Despite the rough beginning of their relationship, neither of them would change a thing that had happened. It was only up from here. 

Luke was fast asleep before the door was shut behind Din, the warm buzzing in his own skull like a blanket of comfort. They would need the rest before reaching Mandalore, anyway.

*******

Small gods must have owed him some favors, because an hour later Luke’s motorcycle roared well into the center of town, towards one of the buildings Boba owned. Ironically, Luke recognized the address because right next door, in the same building, was Fennec Shand’s chocolate shop .

The same shop he wanted to stop at first because, well, who wouldn’t want to butter up the man about to stab him with a thousand tiny needles?

He parked the bike around back, taking a moment to be the adult he was and write ‘ wash me!’ in the dust on Fennec’s truck. She would, without a single doubt, chew him out for it later, and he would probably end up with a hose and bucket in his hands, but it was worth it. Especially after adding a bunch of hearts around the message to really up his chance of getting physically harmed.

As he finished up, he glanced up towards the windows above him, his eyes drawn there. He knew there were apartments above the shops, which Boba typically let the shop owners rent out. A little kid was standing in the window of the one above him, watching him with wide eyes.

Wide, brown eyes that were bright, like he was full of life and knowledge. He didn’t realize in the moment how illogical it was to guess the child’s eyes were brown. Or how correct he was in the assumption. But the kid leaned his head closer to the window and waved, seemingly excited about seeing another person at the moment.

Luke chuckled a little when he noticed the kid was wearing a knit frog hat. In late summer. In a desert. But when he realized his hand was itching again, he gave the kid a little wave back before he turned to walk around the building, helmet in hand. The familiar weight gave him something else to focus on. His nerves were kicking in at the moment and, even though he had sat through a number of tattoo sessions, this one felt different. Aside from the fact he had no idea what he was getting.

Sighing to himself, Luke rounded the corner. The very first shop was Fennec’s, and he ducked inside without even glancing at the tattoo parlor next door. 

He was immediately reminded why he had absolutely loved coming to Fennec’s place when he walked into the lively colors and the smell of chocolate. He knew a bit about her from the time he had been coming often, and more since Boba and Cobb had been dating. After all, she did introduce them. It was only right she be included in their mish mosh family.

“Luke!” Fennec grinned as soon as he stepped in the door, before the bell had even stopped ringing. She looked just as out of place as she always did, dressed in all black among a sea of purples and greens. “You haven’t been in town in ages!”

Luke chuckled, though he knew the sound was edged in nerves. “Ah, well… Got sick of all those hospital visits, and town became…”

“A reminder.” Fennec finished with all the knowledge of someone who had been there.

“Yeah…” Luke sucked air in through his teeth before he shook his head and grinned, “So! I’m in town getting a tattoo from your neighbor here. Any gossip?”

“Oh, at Forged? Nice. You’ll love Din. I just have a feeling. I mean, he’s single, hot and exactly your type.” Fennec shifted on her heel to go retrieve something from a case at the other end of the counter.

Her tone was strange. Like she knew something she absolutely should not know, or at least more than Luke did. He hated when she hinted around like that. But she was incredibly good at keeping secrets, too. So he knew prodding her about her innuendo was pointless.

“Okay, okay - I asked for gossip, not for love advice!” Luke found himself whisper-yelling, as if the man next door could hear them. “I mean - where’d he come from? Cobb told me he opened his shop about a year ago and he’s real pricey, but amazing. But I guess he doesn’t talk about where he came from.”

“He’s pricey because he’s good, Luke. People follow him on Holo and come from out of state to get his art.” Fennec shrugged then, some sort of stiffness in her shoulders that Luke couldn’t put a name to. “And, well… Let’s just say his story was similar to mine.”

“He was homeless?” Luke asked bluntly, then grimaced at himself, “Sorry, I just…”

How had someone with that kind of following been homeless? There was no way he was struggling like that. So something must have happened, just like what had happened to Fennec.

“It’s okay. I’m pretty open about it, remember?” Fennec finished packaging something and brought it over, pushing it across the counter. “Din was left homeless after a natural disaster. Boba was working the relief campaign with his crew and, well. You know how Boba is with strays.”

“But Boba knew you before he gave you this shop and apartment, what about him?” Luke tilted his head, then caught sight of a tattoo on Fennec’s wrist.

Healed, but not too old. A helmet colored orange and black with what looked like two suns in the background and an array of colors filling out the scene. The tiny mudhorn symbol looked etched into the side of the helmet. Luke’s hand itched looking at it again and every inch of him tensed looking at the tattoo in general.

There were two suns. Why? Why did he feel like that was right?

Why did he know the heat of two suns across his back, and know today’s looming heat was nothing in comparison? 

*******

Luke watched Fennec cautiously. Even knowing she had no ill intent, and being able to feel her perfectly in the force, he was still worried. She was a master assassin. She could kill any of them if given the right chance.

“I don’t need the Force to feel you staring at me, kid.” Fennec muttered as she stared down the scope of her sniper rifle, slowly scanning it over the desert horizon.

Even the heat of the twin suns didn’t make her break a sweat. Or at least, from what Luke could see since she was in full black garb with a helmet.

Luke grumbled and turned away, staring out over the sands in the opposite direction. “Just trying to figure you out. That’s all.”

“Not much to figure out.”

“There is. You’re a master assassin and you gave up your ‘to the highest bidder’ deal to go… What, work for Boba?” Luke asked, glancing at her briefly before he looked back. His poncho was doing a good job keeping the Suns from his skin, but the heat that day was nauseating.

“I gave it up to have a family, to have people that will always be at my side and have my back.” Fennec explained, then shrugged. The movement was little more than a roll of her shoulders. “I wasn’t always an assassin.”

“Oh?” Luke prompted.

“I was just a simple kid. Daughter of a baker and a legal bounty hunter. Mom taught me to shoot, Dad taught me to cook. I wanted to follow in my Dad’s footsteps.” She chuckled, though the sound was heartbreaking, “Guess I followed in Mom’s instead.”

Luke looked at her for a moment before he sighed, accepting he had judged her pretty harshly before. “Given my lineage… I shouldn’t throw stones in glass houses. I’m glad you’re part of this, uh - mismatched family, Fen.”

Luke turned his head, looking directly at the mudhorn signet on her helmet. Din had etched the design himself, sometime before Din had hunted him down the second time and demanded answers. So, not too long ago. He wondered if he would get his own one day. He watched the way it caught the light in the sun just right, until she turned her head towards him finally.

“Call me Fen again and I’ll cut off your other kriffing hand.”

They both dissolved into quiet snickering, the real start of a lifelong friendship.

*******

Why did his fucking hand itch?

“How about we talk about this after your tattoo session?” Fennec nudged the box closer, “Assorted chocolate covered fruit and truffles.”

“This sounds like heaven. What do I owe you?” Luke asked with a grin, temporarily sated in his need for information. Or, at least, ignoring the part of his mind that was screaming for more.

“This time it’s on the house, Skywalker. Good luck.” Fennec waved her hand to dismiss any protest Luke could give, disappearing into the back.

Luke grumbled, slid the $10 in cash he kept in his wallet into her tip jar, then took the box and started back outside. The box was heavier than normal, obviously very full, but she usually plopped extras in for him anyway. Though he wasn’t quite sure why, besides them having mutual friends and a love for swapping gossip.

Though he had some feeling that in another life, Fennec Shand would kill for him, not just drop extra sweets in his box. The thought washed over him so fast it nearly made him nauseous, but he recognized its truth. Despite that, he shook his head to push it away. They didn’t live a life like that, no matter how many weird dreams he had.

Immediately next door was the tattoo studio, which drew Luke’s gaze up to the sign. Forged. That warmth he had felt in the back of his head blossomed again, sparking down his spine as if some higher power was telling him something. Or - or it was just nerves. It had been awhile since he’d gotten a new tattoo.

The blacked out windows gave him no indication of what he was about to walk into, and that was fine. Normal. Though it also felt like an odd omen from the universe. Like he wasn’t quite meant to see inside yet.

Taking a steadying breath, Luke pushed the door open with his hip and listened to the chime announcing his arrival.

His hand itched. He cursed it silently.

“Hey Skywalker, welcome in.” A woman at the front desk waved Luke closer, which made him take pause.

She seemed - weirdly familiar. But he knew he had never met her before. She had thick box braided hair dyed a collage of greens and tattoos everywhere. He was almost too mesmerized by the depth of color packed into her darker skin to recognize that she had actually said his name. His last name. 

“Sorry, do I know you?” He asked, to which she looked up with a flicker of something in her eyes. Was it - sadness? Shock?

She blinked, staring at him for just a moment before she shook her head, “Ah, no, I just - just heard Din talking about you coming in. That’s all.”

As he set his helmet on the counter, Luke eyed her for a moment before he slowly nodded, not entirely convinced, but unable to pinpoint why. She still seemed incredibly familiar. And he didn’t recall Cobb telling Din his last name on the phone earlier. “Ah… Okay, well - You can just call me Luke.”

He offered her his left hand to shake and she, surprisingly, seemed to have anticipated that, meeting him in a hearty handshake. “Shoba. A pleasure to meet you, Luke.”

*******

“Luke Skywalker? ” The Twi’lek Mandalorian asked, and Luke wondered if beneath her helmet she was wide-eyed or not. “Are you related to the late General Anakin Skywalker?”

Luke nearly winced, having forgotten that some people didn’t know that Anakin Skywalker and Darth Vader were actually the same person. The Galaxy at large thought his father died in the war.

For a long time, he had thought that too.

“I am, actually.” He glanced towards where Din stood at the opposite end of the room, having a quiet conversation with two of his council members.

“My first riduur served under his Master’s fleet.” She said as she reached up to take her face plate off her helmet, revealing her face to Luke.

She had a warm smile and soft eyes, and the green of her face was slightly darker than her lekku, which Luke found interesting. He tilted his head towards her, “Were you married to a clone?”

“Happily. I could tell you some stories I was told of the end of the war, if you’d like.” She held her arm out to him, then switched arms when Luke held his left out. They gripped forearms as she flashed him a smile of beskar capped sharp teeth. “You can call me Shoba.”

“It’s nice to meet you, Shoba.” He then noticed the very fresh mudhorn tattoo on her lekku. So she was certainly Din’s friend and recently a member of his ever growing clan. “Let’s go have that talk.”

*******

“You too, Shoba. Are you an artist here too?” He asked as he leaned on the counter, peeking over it curiously at the tablet she had.

“Yeah, Din hired me a few weeks ago. I’m - I guess you could say an old friend, so it was easy to slide into place here.” Shoba held up her tablet, showing him her artwork. “Here, you can scroll through my gallery.”

Luke grinned and nodded, setting the box down finally, next to his helmet, “Thanks!”

Softly, he took the tablet from her and propped it on the counter, swiping through the gallery. There were all kinds of pop-culture designs, superheroes, watercolor and even geometric sketches. But he paused when he came across a design in a language he had never seen before.

But he had no idea how he had never seen it before because he could clearly read what it said.

His hand itched. He swore he could smell metal and ash.

Nau’uryc tracyn.

The words surrounded two tools used in forgework, something that Luke likewise was unsure how he knew. For a long moment all he could do was stare at the sketch. He didn’t know where these vague memories came from, but they didn’t seem like his. They - couldn’t be his, right?

If they weren’t his memories, how did he know it meant forged in fire?

“Luke?” Shoba’s voice cut through the fog and brought him back to reality, making him look up suddenly. He hadn’t been aware he wasn't breathing until he inhaled sharply, eyes wide and heart racing.

“Sorry - what, um - what language is this?” Luke asked, turning the tablet around to show her which sketch it was.

Shoba frowned and scooped up her tablet, an obviously nervous chuckle escaping her. “Oh, that? Just an ancient language I like to play around with… Like Latin, you know?”

“What’s it called?” Luke insisted, that weird feeling in his mind again.

Shoba shifted her jaw before she sighed and looked up at him, “It’s called Mando’a. ”

Involuntarily, Luke shuttered, the word feeling so familiar. He had no idea why. He wished he knew why, because it was starting to shape up to be a very odd day. “Oh, I… I’ve never heard of it.”

He lied. Something in him had heard of it, something in him knew it. But that made no sense.

“There aren’t many people left who have.” Shoba responded, her voice taking on a sad tone.

*******

“ Mando’a. ” Din corrected his pronunciation, chuckling at the face Luke made.

“This is so much harder than I thought it would be.” Luke grumbled, “The conjugations are all over the place. And if you add ‘ little’ to a word it makes a whole new word!”

He huffed at the thought of how ‘ planet’ became ‘ moon. ’ Or any of the others they had been covering over the last few weeks. He wanted to understand so badly. Eventually, Din’s people would be his people too. Their cultures would be shared. They would be one.

None of that would happen if he didn’t know the language.

“ Jet’ika. Ner kar’ta. Ner runi. Gar mav suvarir. ” Din reached up and threaded a hand around the back of Luke’s neck, tugging him closer so their foreheads met. “Do you know what I said?”

Luke let their foreheads stay together for a moment before he puffed out a breath and sat back from the embrace. “‘Little Jedi’, which is sweet to say in this context. ‘My heart. My soul. You will understand.’”

“Which you did.” Din pointed out, his chuckle being slightly drowned in his vocoder.

“I did.” Luke grinned, lunging forward on the bench seat to hug Din around his shoulders, “I did! I can do this. I’ll learn it better than the back of my hand.”

“Which one?” Din teased, though he hugged him closer anyway.

*******

After a moment, Shoba busied herself printing out waiver forms for him to fill out, filling the air with idle chat about the town and Fennec’s shop next door. She hadn’t gotten a chance to try it yet, so Luke popped open the box and shared while he signed the waiver. Eventually he leaned on the counter and flipped through a book of Din’s designs, trying to figure out what he wanted to get.

Shoba must have seen his indecision. “You didn’t have an idea for your tattoo?”

“Mh… Not really.” Luke shrugged a bit, “Something just told me today was a good day for a new tattoo. Just the urge for ink therapy, you know?”

“Yeah, I feel it.” Shoba tapped on the counter, almost as if she was nervous for a moment, before she spoke again. “Din has tap out sessions. They’re… Well, he has ones that you can choose the design, or…”

“Or what?” Luke asked, tilting his head. Then he looked down when she produced a little half sheet of thick paper, some kind of marketing material.

Looking it over, it was about blindfolded tap out sessions. Client’s location choice, artist’s design. One flat rate, and Din would tattoo until the client tapped out or for up to 8 hours. Paid in advance only. Size could vary, depending on the availability of free skin.

A warmth moved through his mind. He shouldn’t trust a stranger. Not with blindfolds and permanent body art or 8 hours of his time that could end poorly. He absolutely should not do that. 

But something in his mind refused to be talked out of the session.

“He only had one other appointment today and they’re in there now finishing up. You’d be stuck here pretty late if you made it through the 8 hours, but… Most don’t.” Shoba explained, “He would be more than happy to do it.”

“Then let’s do it.” Luke spoke without thinking. He even took himself back for a moment, revisiting the blindfolded part of the whole thing. But he felt oddly at ease here, and if anyone tried anything he could easily use the various self defense training he’d learned growing up.

“Sounds great!” Shoba grinned. She put the order in the system and took Luke’s card for the up front payment. He went ahead and left a pretty large tip while they were at it before he decided to step back from the counter and go take a seat on the couch, box of sweets in hand.

He was going to let a stranger blindfold him.

*******

“Din,” Luke had his hands on either side of Din’s helmet, but he didn’t move to lift the helmet away. He wanted to, but he didn’t. “Are you sure?”

“Yes.” After a moment, Din raised his hands and settled them over Luke’s. Neither of them moved at first, caught up in the moment.

Luke had seen Din’s face before. Sure, it had been a long time ago, but it had been. Other than subtle changes, from stress, time or injury, there would be little surprise. But Din’s features weren’t the part of this that was making Luke hesitate. It was Din’s ideals, those he had spent the last two years debating over. Those that had left Luke blindfolded very often, only the Force to guide him.

But now, Din was Mand’alor in every proper way. They were close to their wedding. Technically, Din made the rules here now.

But Luke decided those reasons were good enough to pull his hands away and reach towards the bedside table for his blindfold. “Din, as much as I want to see you… I know how much it means to you to wait until we’ve taken the vows.”

“But-”

“No buts.” Luke insisted, holding the blindfold up so Din could tie it on his face. “One more month. I’ll be a Mandalorian, I’ll take your new creed, then we’ll say the vows. Until then, I can’t see your face. I’m not Mandalorian yet. And you’re not ready to break away from that tradition, no matter what choices you gave others. I won’t break your creed. Even though it’s changing over time. I’m committed to you, ner ven’riduur. ”

He paused for only a moment before he added, “This is the way.”

In front of him, he could hear Din slip his helmet off after the blindfold was tied into place. Then a flurry of kisses were being pressed to Luke’s cheeks and neck, as he was gathered up against Din’s body. Strong arms hugged him tight and didn’t seem to want to let go.

Luke barely heard Din whisper that he loved him, and didn’t get a chance to say it back before he was, carefully, pressed back into the bed for an example of Din’s love. The blindfold didn’t feel like a hindrance. Besides, they would be married before they could blink.

Once they were wed, no more blindfolds.

For Luke, at least.

*******

From the waiting area, he could vaguely hear the buzz of a tattoo machine, which made him jittery with anticipation. Out of all of his tattoos, he had never done something like this. Which was - well -

Luke did love to chase dangerous things.

He didn’t get too long to think about the odd implications. Because after a few minutes he heard soft speech coming from the room adjacent to the couch. The tattoo machine had turned off, and he could distinctly hear Boba himself speaking.

And he was - speaking in that language. In Mando’a . Was that Boba’s connection to Din that Fennec didn’t tell him about? Were they from the same place originally? Curiosity got the best of him and, while he didn’t usually eavesdrop on people, he couldn’t help it now.

First, a voice that seemed familiar yet foreign to Luke spoke. “ Wayii Cobb partaylir?” – Does Cobb remember?

Luke was pretty amazed at himself for translating right away. Maybe it was something like watching those kids' shows growing up. One of them could have implemented this language and he just remembered it randomly years later. That, or he was being paranoid and just assumed he knew what they were saying. And really, eavesdropping was awful, he shouldn’t -

“Nu su.” – Not yet. Followed by a short pause before Boba continued, “Luke jorhaa’ir ti nuhoy tome’tayle… Partaylycir.” – Luke talks about sleeping memories. He will remember.

“Jag projor…” – He’s next.

“Me’ven?” – What?

“Jag projor - Olar. - Ni chaabar nu partaylycir ni.” – He’s next. Here. I fear he won’t remember me.

Luke definitely understood what they were saying, and he should have been thrown by it. He should get up and leave, or pull out his phone and start searching for the language. There had to have been some commonality. A show or - well, he had no idea what, but it was something.

And they were talking about him and his dreams. His - the glimpses of a life he swore wasn’t his, but it felt so real anyway. Nothing made sense. It wasn’t rational . But he needed to pay attention to the conversation at hand.

“Ner’Jetii runi kar’tayliryc gar.” – Your Jedi’s soul knows you.

Another pause in their conversation, before Boba spoke again, “Udesii, Din.” – Take it easy, Din.

Luke was so focused on his name being brought up and the implications of - whatever it was they were talking about - that he completely missed Boba coming out of the room until he was addressed directly.

“Skywalker?” Boba tilted his head as he crossed his arms, the way he did when he normally caught someone not listening to whatever he said.

“Boba!” Luke laughed a little nervously, “Sorry, I… zoned out.”

“Uh-huh.” Boba shifted, eyes narrowed towards Luke for a moment. “What’re you getting?”

“What am I… Oh! Uh - I don’t know. I’m doing the blindfold… Thing…” Luke stood from the couch to get a closer look at Boba’s new tattoo.

It took up the majority of his upper arm, and it was obvious this was the second or possibly even third session, given that it was now a complete half sleeve. Luke’s whole mouth and throat ran dry as he stared at the piece. It was - familiar. A long skull with tusks on either side sat in front of a helmet turned to the side, painted red and green beyond the silver showing all the damage. The background featured two suns amongst a gorgeous sunset over sand dunes.

Two suns. Just like Fennec’s tattoo.

Mesh’la. He wanted to say out loud. “Beautiful.” He managed to say instead.

Two suns. Just like home.

Boba snorted and shook his head, “Taken.”

Two suns. Just like Tatooine.

Luke blinked and looked up at him, confused before he rolled his eyes, “Not you, the tattoo! The colors are so rich, the lines are even and smooth, the helmet looks positively 3D and the mythosaur skull–”

*******

So what is this exactly? Luke had asked so long ago, referring to the necklace Grogu wore. 

The Mandalorian crest. A mythosaur skull. Din had explained, giving him then a run down of what the beast was and why they used that skull as a symbol.

Throughout the years since, Luke had seen the mythosaur skull everywhere. Different versions on the arms of True Mandalorians and Death Watch; adorning the walls of the Palace and homes alike; sticking out among the various planets and peoples’ crests on the Senate board. 

The Jedi crest was similar. The sword with wings. The rebel crest too, roots taken from the Jedi, which became the sign of the New Republic. Certain signs and symbols Luke could pick out anywhere, no matter how distorted they were or how old he got.

After watching the mythosaur skull be painted meticulously on the funeral pyre, he got a bad taste in his mouth. Bodies, he had once learned, could still be felt in the Force. That was why the Jedi burned their dead. Mandalorians, on the other hand, burned their dead to let them join the stars.

They were so similar.

They were so different.

That day he watched the pyre burn.

The warmth in the back of his skull never stopped buzzing.

Even though the body was burned.

*******

Fire. Luke nearly choked on the sudden thought that hit him when the word mythosaur dropped from his mouth like a brick. He wanted to be sick. He could smell smoke and ash, and could feel his anxiety rising. 

Their eyes snapped towards one another, and they both froze. Boba was staring at him like he expected something. A question or an answer, neither of which Luke could offer. His mind was far, far away.

Something buzzed in the back of his mind for a second longer before a loud clatter drew their equal attention back towards Din’s room, where they could both see from the door he’d knocked over a small cart of some sort. Luke tried to lean in closer to get a glimpse of Din, but couldn’t see him from this angle. So he shook his head and looked back at Boba.

“I don’t… I don’t know where that word came from.” Luke admitted quietly, looking away again to watch Shoba go into Din’s room, most likely to help him after that clatter. “Something - is something going on?”

For a moment, Boba pursed his lips as he let out a short breath, before he nodded slowly, “I won’t lie to you, kid. Yeah. It sounds like something is going on.”

“Is it… Is it something bad?” Luke asked, looking up at the man who had become like family to him. Who had been so familiar, and his presence was so comforting, ever since they had met. 

“You can answer your own question, you’ve always had impeccable instincts. Are you worried?” Boba asked, which seemed like an odd question because yes, Luke should be worried, but -

“No.” Luke admitted honestly. “No, I… Something’s telling me not to be. But what’s going on, Boba?”

Something in his mind told him this was familiar. They’d done this before. He had stood in front of Boba and asked, desperation in his voice, if something was going on. He had been asked, far more calmly than the situation warranted, if he was worried. But of course not, he didn’t worry. Jedi didn’t worry. 

But he couldn’t wrap his mind around a thought of what was a Jedi? Before the tattoo artist with a scruff mustache and big, lonely brown eyes stepped out from the doorway Boba had come from. The man looked so much younger than Luke thought, younger than he should look, despite Luke not knowing how old the man should’ve been. A part of him thought he never knew him so young; a part of him only remembered him old; not a single part of him remembered him at all, because they had never met.

“How about we talk after your tattoo, Skywalker.” Boba said as he tapped Luke’s shoulder and moved on.

All Luke could do was give him half a nod in agreement, his eyes glued to the man before him. The Tattoo artist. Din Djarin.

Din was wearing a green tank top with the name of some beach on it, one Luke didn’t recognize nor did he search his memory for. Not with the feeling in his mind threatening to make him faint. The shirt itself wasn’t interesting - it was the tattoos the tank top revealed that kept Luke’s attention.

His forearms were covered in intricate, geometric designs that looked like they meant something. Like badges of honor, they told a story that Luke knew nothing about. They went all the way up to his biceps, where they met a mythosaur skull on the left and a mudhorn on the right. The low cut tank top showed two symbols just below his collarbone - a small, three clawed animal print sat opposite a circular design.

Starbird. Luke’s entirely unknown new thoughts provided him. Old thoughts? Childhood memories? Adult memories?

*******

“Does it hurt?” Din asked Luke, more or less prodding at the exposed wires on his prosthetic. He was testing the fingers grip and reflexes before they patched the hand entirely.

“Hm… Not really.” Luke hummed, half asleep in the chair from how long they’d been working on his hand. “It has fake nerves, but I don’t feel my hand in the Force. So it’s… Almost like it’s half dead. I don’t feel it like everything else.”

“Not really? ” Din asked, poking a wire that made Luke jump a little before he settled.

“Well, I can feel you messing with it. But it’s a good pain. If that makes sense.” He glanced over Din, the man’s armor not giving him any indication of what he had been through in his life. Did he know good pain, or only bad pain?

“I have tattoos, so yes. It makes sense.” Din admitted, then started on the next step. He was adding a beskar reinforcement plate to the back of Luke’s hand, etched with his mudhorn signet.

Luke had been more than happy to accept both the reinforcement and the signet itself. He was with Din, it only felt right to wear his sigil. Especially since all of their friends also carried the signet with them too.

“You have tattoos?” Luke asked, eyes wide. “Din, I’ve been around you naked and you didn’t feel the need to mention you have tattoos?”

Even with the helmet on, Luke had a feeling Din was blushing. “Well… At least I know the blindfold works.”

“Don’t dodge the questi— oww!” Luke winced, not entirely prepared for the sting of welding the reinforcement to his prosthetic.

“Just breathe.” Din reminded him, his voice gentle and reassuring, “This is going to be the easy part. Relax and breathe.”

“Then talk to me, Din.” Luke flexed his jaw, forcing himself to relax as he let Din get back to working on his hand.

Din didn’t hesitate to start telling his Jedi about the tattoos he had. Almost all of them had to do with his culture, sharing pieces of who he was and what he had accomplished. He was adamant that everyone should have their accomplishments on their skin, as a reminder to themselves if no one else.

Luke had none, but he had scars to spare. He liked the way he could tell Din smiled fondly under his helmet at that, and told him that scars told just as many stories.

Din told him about the mythosaur skull, his very first tattoo. Then about some tally marks that bounty hunters in his clan kept updated, mostly for those they killed. He had gotten the mudhorn sigil tattoed on him at some point after getting the signet. While they were separated, he got Grogu’s handprint on him as a reminder for why he did all he had. Among the rest of them, various geometric designs and old traditional Mandalorian tattoos.

Finally, a new addition that he hesitated to tell Luke about. The rebel’s starbird.

“Did you get that - for me?” Luke asked in shock.

“You’re taking my signet. I thought I could take yours too.”

*******

“Luke?” Din spoke, and he didn’t make a move to hold up his hand or take a step closer and Luke felt like that was wrong, but he didn’t know why.

He wasn’t even sure the man said his name as a question, but he assumed he had. “Yeah, yes. Yep, that’s me. Luke Skywalker. Nice to meet you.”

They didn’t move. Luke was vaguely aware of Boba going away, towards the front counter. He was distantly aware of eyes on them from across the room. Moderately aware of the way his heart pounded in his chest.

Unaware of why he felt so far away from here, from now, from this moment.

“Din Djarin.” Din finally responded, stepping forward and offering his hand.

Instead of shaking hands, they grasped their forearms. It felt right. It felt wrong. Luke’s other hand itched like it wanted to burn off of him. He cursed the sky as he stared at Din’s eyes; at the way his face looked so young; at the stress lines near the bridge of his nose and the dimple on one cheek as he smiled.

“You can come on back, we’ll set up and talk about design.” Din spoke.

Luke stared. For a moment confusion settled into him, then he remembered: tattoo. Tattoo artist. Getting a tattoo.

The weird haze cleared away as he refocused, thinking about now and what was happening. Luke managed a nod, a smile, and followed Din into his room.

Forty minutes later, they were set up and ready to get started. Their conversation had been oddly brief, with Luke falling into explaining where he wanted a tattoo (his right hand and forearm, a full half sleeve if possible), what he wanted (he had no particular choice, but told Din what he liked), and showing off some of the tattoos he already had.

In turn, Din told Luke how the tap out sessions worked (they tattooed until Luke tapped out - if he made it the full eight hours and the tattoo wasn’t complete, then the next session was deeply discounted), made him sign an additional waiver for the blindfold (Luke’s hand itched when he saw it, which he ignored), and had vaguely mapped out an idea in black marker on Luke’s arm. 

Luke got to watch him map out the idea, though he couldn’t tell what any of the vague squiggles or shapes would become. So he just stared, tried not to fidget, eventually lapsed into pulling his phone out to scroll through the group chat.

Han was being a shithead, as usual. Leia was, lovingly, threatening divorce. Cobb tried to remove himself from the chat twice but got pulled back in. Boba had added pictures of his tattoo. The background still showed the shop, so he assumed Boba was -

“Getting started soon?” Boba asked from the doorway, at the perfect time.

“Just about.” Din responded, holding Luke’s arm up to, gently, turn it this way and that. He must have been mentally mapping out the rest of the design. “Why’re you in here?”

“Skywalker left his things in the waiting area.” Boba pointed out, holding up Luke’s helmet and the box of sweets. “I rescued them from Shoba. For a tax.”

“I completely forgot!” Luke gasped, shifting in the chair to look back at Boba. “I brought sweets from Shand’s, you can have some too.”

Luke had no doubt that box was considerably lighter between the two of them.

“Buttering up your artist doesn’t make it hurt less, princess.” Boba snorted, covering the distance to ruffle Luke’s hair after he set the box and helmet down on a table against the wall. 

As he shook his head, Luke turned back to Din, “I just thought you might like some. If you like sweets. Ah, well, it’s - chocolate covered fruits mostly.”

Din glanced up, and the smirk that graced his face made Luke’s heart jump. “My favorite, actually. Thank you.”

They paused for a moment, and Luke felt his cheeks flush with heat. Neither of them said anything. Luke’s hand itched.

“I should go if you’re just gonna make doe eyes at each other.” Boba muttered.

That earned a glare from Din, “ Laandur sheb, Boba. Slana’pir. ”

*******

“ Slana’pir! ” Luke cried, folding in on himself as his legs gave in, unable to hold him any further. He crumbled next to the throne and tried to hold in the emotions that overwhelmed him. The Force pressed in all around his mind, threatening. The worst feeling he had ever dealt with.

“Skywalker, I know this is hard on you.” Boba spoke so quietly, so softly.

Luke still thought his head would explode as his words. He folded his arms around his chest as he tried to hold in a sob. The floor beneath him cracked.

“But you’re not alone.” Boba continued, kneeling before Luke as he did.

He knew he wasn’t alone. He knew through the doors to the throne room his friends were here. Fennec, Han, Leia, Ahsoka, and others - this wasn’t the first time they’d lost one from their tight knit group. And Boba - he was the best one to comfort Luke right now.

Peli had been first, years ago. Age had been kind to her, but Tatooine had a way of sinking its teeth into people. Her memorial was simple, though many had attended. She was well known, even if not well traveled.

Luke had personally taken in her droids, and Din had never objected.

Vanth had been a shock. Even between the armor Boba had given him and the gun skills Vanth had, the assassin had been sent with the finest set of skills his employer could afford. Boba, Din and Fennec had raised hell in revenge. In the same breath, Boba had reminded the galaxy how much power the name Fett held, before he disappeared for a while to mourn his beloved.

Luke had tracked Boba down to Kamino after a couple months, where they sat together in one of the few still standing buildings and swapped stories about Cobb. Then Boba moved to Mandalore permanently.

That had been years ago.

But Din - Luke couldn’t fathom losing him. After how long they had been together, inseparable, powerful, loving and devoted - it shook him to the core.

“Boba, how do I… What do I do…” Luke muttered, then felt a hand on his shoulder as Boba knelt next to him.

Luke willingly leaned into the hug as he listened to Boba, “You mourn. You heal. You keep fighting. Din was older than you, and not a Jedi. You knew this would happen.”

He wasn’t saying it to be harsh. It was just a fact. Jedi usually aged a bit slower. Like a perk from the Force. Din had lived a long, hard life. He was lucky to die naturally, after all the close calls through the ages.

“I know.” Luke muttered, eyes shut to hold back the tears. “Forty two years.”

“Twenty more years than I had with Cobb. That counts for something, right?” Boba offered as comfort, which Luke appreciated.

“I just… Just wish we could see them again. One more time.” Luke barely whispered, his strength gone.

“We will. One day. In another life.” Boba nudged him, “Now help a very old man off the floor, would you?”

*******

“You don’t have to get out, Boba.” Luke assured, without hesitation.

That earned wide-eyed gazes from both of the men before him. He realized quite suddenly that he had shown his hand, and that he definitely should not know the language they were speaking in. He didn’t know why.

If he were being honest with himself, he didn’t know why it didn’t worry him either .

“Skywalker?” Boba questioned, though Luke was unsure about his tone. It seemed to go deeper than just a surface call of his name. As if Boba was calling all the way back to -

“What?” Luke furrowed his brow, “I grew up with a sister, I know the ‘get out’ tone in any language.”

“Ah.” Din clicked his tongue, and the tension or anticipation or whatever had been clogging the room suddenly seemed to dissipate.

Boba didn’t respond before his phone started ringing. Luke knew it had to be Cobb by the way the man seemed to light up. It didn’t ring a second time before he answered and smiled from ear to ear, “Hey, cowboy.”

Din made an exaggerated eye roll and gag, making Luke laugh and earning a one fingered wave goodbye from Boba.

“They’re cute together.” Luke started once Boba was gone again, “Like they’ve known each other forever.”

Din didn’t say anything to that, focused on getting his inks set up. Or perhaps he wasn’t sure what to say to Luke’s observation. After all, Din was just a tattoo artist that Boba knew, and sure Cobb had been tattooed by him, but that didn’t mean they were close.

“Are you ready?” Din asked just before he pulled one last thing out from his toolbox-turned-supply-case.

It was the blindfold. Luke’s mouth ran dry.

“Yes.”

Luke was the king of small talk. He could read a person and chat their ear off for hours. Which, as it turned out, really came in handy when getting a large tattoo. They swapped recent movies and show recommendations first, getting a feel for each other. They both seemed to love sci-fi and romance movies, and shows that had to do with family. They went on a nearly hour long tangent about a newly released show about zombies that it seemed like everyone was watching, including both of them. Luke mentioned that Cobb was planning a watch party for the series finale, and Din grinned when he said he was already invited, and might just end up going.

They took a short pause for Din to stretch his back and hand. He called out to the lobby and Shoba brought them in water bottles, and moved the sweets closer for them to snack on if they wanted to, while stealing another piece for herself. Luke would never remember the horrible joke she told them on her way out, but the sound of Din’s laughter could never leave his mind.

They briefly talked about the weather. Briefly.

Luke told Din about working on Cobb’s ranch, and how he ended up working there after he moved to the area to live with his uncles for a change of scenery. His mom was a politician, so they had lived in big cities his whole life. The moment he graduated high school, he left. Now he was a full time ranch hand, and adored the lifestyle. Minus the one incident.

Damn that bull.

“Getting a tap out tattoo on a hand that has no feeling in it is absolutely cheating, by the way.” Din teased, which just made Luke snort.

“Listen, that was definitely not on the rule sheet.” Luke stuck his tongue out at the man.

“Artist’s new terms and conditions!” Din answered, and they both laughed hard enough to make them pause the tattoo for a minute to get themselves back together.

Being happy around Din felt so natural. Time flew by as they talked. Din told Luke about his old home on the coast, where he had a popular shop until a fire took it all out. Losing everything had been devastating, even with Boba’s crew being there to help immediately. He had barely escaped with his son.

“You have a son?” Luke asked, tilting his head a bit.

“I know, I don’t seem like the type.” Din snorted, “I actually adopted him. A client of mine was… Not the best choice of fathers. The mom signed away all parental rights. Then one day he showed up at my shop, ready to get a new tattoo, kid on his hip. The kid had outgrown his clothes. Client said… that he’d rather get his drug and ink fix than kid clothes.”

“Wow.” Luke shook his head, shocked.

“Yeah. I persuaded him to give up the kid for adoption. But he insisted he didn’t want him in the system… So, I took him. It felt like fate at the time.” Din shrugged, “Then the fire happened and…”

“Why didn’t you evacuate earlier, if you have him to worry about too?” Luke asked, then added, “Not - to sound judgemental. You just seem really torn up about the fire.”

Din was quiet for a moment, and Luke worried he had asked the wrong question. The buzzing of the machine was the only sound between them before Din sighed. “I was… Reckless. I heard the alert for the fire, checked the burn line… It was late at night, and not coming in our direction. I didn’t want to scare him by waking him up and changing routine just for a fire that wasn’t coming our way.”

Luke frowned. He had a feeling he knew where this story was going. “But?”

“But the winds changed.” Din continued working, even as he talked about a hard subject. “I slept through the evacuation alert. It had been a rough day as it was… Then woke up to the smoke alarm going off and Grogu crying from the other room.”

Luke flinched, and Din was fast enough that he pulled the tattoo machine away before Luke yanked his hand back and scrambled out of his seat.

He didn’t have to worry about the blindfold, not with the way he could just sense everything in the room around him. He felt his breathing get shallow as panic flooded his system.

As remembrance flooded his mind.

*******

Luke ran soft fingers along Grogu’s ear, humming to him as he slept on his chest. Beside him, Din shifted as he started to wake, the arm at Luke’s waist flexing and pulling him ever so slightly closer. After a moment, Din lifted his head, still sleepy as he placed a kiss on Luke’s shoulder.

“Still sleeping?” Din asked, following it with a yawn.

“About to wake up.” Luke hummed, “It was a long training day. His abilities are growing.”

“He got taller, too.” Din pointed out, lifting a hand to rub Grogu’s ear as well. Their child always seemed comforted by the movement, so both of them had gotten in the habit.

“Stability for the last ten years has done him very well.” Luke smiled, “He’s not a child anymore.”

“He’ll always be our child.” Din insisted, then chuckled when Grogu shook their hands free of his little head and lifted himself up, looking between them with tired eyes.

“Hey, kid.” Din moved to sit up, stretching before climbing out of the bed.

“ Buir’e? ” Grogu looked between them, calm despite both of their eyes widening and Din turning back around in one quick movement.

Luke, who had been able to communicate with Grogu through the Force since they met, was only less shocked by his first words enough to answer him, “Yes, ad’ika? ”

Grogu hesitated for a moment, as if he was trying to figure out how to use his newly found words. Luke grinned and read him in the Force, so he could help him out, “Grogu, are you hungry?”

“Hungry!” Grogu raised his arms, and was promptly scooped up by Din, “Hungry! Food?”

Din laughed and touched their foreheads together, holding his foundling tight in his arms. Grogu giggled before tapping Din’s face incessantly.

As they both started out of their room, Luke could feel the sheer happiness in Din’s Force signature. Grogu was growing up. He said his first words. And of course his first words had to do with food.

Neither of them would have it any other way.

*******

“Luke?” Din kept his voice calm, despite the fact that he had stood up as well.

Luke tried to get his breathing under control, his panic, his confusion. A whole lifetime of memories washed over him, a new lifetime of dreams he had tried to laugh off as nothing but just that - dreams.

“Hey, hey… breathe.” Din spoke as he moved closer, and Luke got the distinct feeling they had done this before.

Still, Luke backed up against a wall, shaking his head to hold back the tears that threatened to spring to his eyes. There was too much running through his mind all at once.

So many things he had dreamt about when he was in the short coma after the incident with Vader too. The incident that left his hand without feeling.

Vader. Who had cut off his hand in another life.

Luke took a shuddering breath, trying to fill his lungs, “How many… Who… Who else…?”

“In your family? I don’t know.” Din admitted, keeping his voice level, which Luke was thankful for. “Boba was the first from among us. He had no idea if he could find any of us. But it was like we all migrated together, without knowing it. Fennec found Boba after her deployments, an explosion jogged her memory. Mine was Paz meeting Grogu. Paz’s was me calling him vod on accident. Shoba found me after her husband was killed in deployment. But…”

When Din was quiet for more than a second, Luke prompted, “But…”

“Some never remember.” Din sounded a little defeated, “Cobb hasn’t remembered anything. Peli, too. She babysits for me, but doesn’t remember. Drash, Omera, Migs…”

“That’s… that’s why…”

“That’s why I’ve been here a year and didn’t come banging down your door.” Din moved closer, but Luke let him. He wasn’t scared of Din, or even intimidated by him.

Then he felt Din’s hands on his cheeks, a warning he was going to remove the blindfold. Which he did in his next move, gently lifting it off and setting the fabric aside. Luke hesitated before he cracked his eyes open, looking up at Din, and actually seeing him.

Earlier he had just seen a handsome man, one he could tell had dealt with a lot of stress and pain in his life. But he was young. Younger than Luke knew him, by about a whole decade. Looking at him made his hand itch - right where the plate bearing his mudhorn signet had been once, in their previous lives.

Din had a little more beard than he used to keep, since he once had only had a mustache because of the helmet. He didn’t have as many scars, and his skin was tanned, not hidden away under layers like it once had been. But other than that - he looked the same. The same soft eyes, hair, smile. Din Djarin. His true love.

“Din…” Luke murmured, feeling the tears slipping down his cheeks. “You… you died…”

“Everyone does eventually.” Din ran his thumb across Luke’s cheek, swiping away the tears there. “But I swore to choose you in every life.”

Luke sobbed, covering Din’s hand with his own to interlock their fingers, keeping his palm against his cheek. “You - you did.”

Then Luke surprised Din as well as himself by reaching up to pull Din in for a kiss. They fell in together perfectly, Luke slotted against Din once he stepped forward, pressing him against the wall. Luke realized he wasn’t the only one with tears on his cheeks as they clung to one another, bodies pressed in a line that whatever force controlled the universe had kept nearly exactly the same.

When they parted, Din touched his forehead to Luke’s, and they were both quiet, drinking in the emotions shared in the air between them.

“What do we do now?” Luke asked finally, cracking his eyes open just as Din went to take a step back.

“Well… The first step is probably finishing your tattoo. Then going upstairs and having dinner with Grogu. Then I’ll text Boba and get the ‘I told you so’ speech.” Din grinned as he took off the gloves he was still wearing, tossing them before walking over to finally eat some of Fennec’s sweets.

*******

The day had begun like any other, with the promised warmth of the slow rising Tatooine suns. He got to enjoy a sweet breakfast with an old friend after he helped with the town’s banthas. Then he asked a favor, and one call later he was zooming off on a landspeeder towards Jabba the Hutt’s palace.

Or rather, Boba Fett’s palace, which didn’t feel any better to be moving rapidly towards.

From the ground outside, he could already feel the pull of Grogu, urging him to look up towards a balcony, where the little one sat overlooking the sand dunes, and offered Luke a wave. He waved back before ducking inside the newly opened doors, being greeted with a blaster trained on him from afar, and no one else but The Mandalorian right in front of him.

“Skywalker.” The man growled, all intimidation under his beskar shell.

“Well, at least you remember me, Mando.” Luke joked, though his mind raced against his odds of being heard or being attacked.

“Mandalorians don’t forget.” He paused, before he held out his hand, meeting Luke halfway. “Call me Din. Din Djarin.”

“Glad to meet you, Din. Can we sit and talk?”

********

While Din moved away, his words made Luke remember why he was here in the first place. He looked down at his tattoo, and felt his heart skip a beat. His inner wrist had a panel, to look like his prosthetics adjustment panel, complete with pistons on the inside. Then wrapping around to the front was a gorgeous sunset scene that bled into a starry night sky, complete with the twin suns of Tatooine on one side and the twin moons of Mandalore on the other, one of them shattered. It was abstract enough that he wouldn’t have known any of it without his memories.

He realized now what the marker on his hand was. The mudhorn, with the starbird behind it, and Grogu’s tiny claw print beside it. That part wasn’t finished, but Luke still smiled anyway. He had no words for what the tattoo meant to him, now. A small piece of their past, their first life together. A little bit of their lives a long time ago in a galaxy far, far away.

“Luke?” Din hummed, motioning him towards the chair. “Ready?”

Luke looked up and smiled, his cheeks pink and tear stained. “Yeah. I’m ready, Din. Give me my signet back, ner kar’ta.”

“Of course, ner runi. ”

*

The day had begun like any other.

And ended like none other before it.

*