Work Text:
Where there once was darkness, there is now light… along with a tiny little whine. He’s thrown the flap to our tent open, brightness now shining in. We’re also no longer wrapped in the quiet comfort of darkness, thanks to him. Noises from the outside world flood in, chirps and songs from the harmless animals surrounding us. It’s not the first time he’s woken me from my sleep, and I know it won’t be the last. He’s… grumpy, especially in the morning. But I guess you could say I am, too.
Groaning quietly, I tilt my head up. “Grogu?”
That tiny little noise, his perplexed eyeballs staring down at me.
“Shut the door.” It’s not really a door, but same-same.
And then, that tiny, angry face. His forehead crinkling more than it should be.
“It’s too early.” I continue, trying to persuade him. But he’s having none of it.
His persistent coos of discontentment win in the end, that happy squeal floating through the tent as I finally shimmy by body along my makeshift bed. Ducking, I make sure not to hit his fabricated cradle, one he’s grown quite comfortable with.
Usually, he’ll hold his arms out to me; he likes being close to me. And I have to admit, I love holding him. But sometimes, he’s stubborn , refusing my help and insisting he get down himself. After waddling out of the tent, I stand, folding the flaps out completely and letting the sun shine in. Crouching with a grin, I wait for him, that small head snapping up at me when he hears my chuckle.
“Well,” I shrug, gesturing out to him. “Go on, then.”
Amusement was a rare thing in my life before him. When I was on my own, I slept when I wanted, ate and worked when I wanted. But he’s thrown a wrench in all of that. And at first, it made me uncertain. I never knew how to provide for a child. Grogu didn’t let those thoughts linger in my head, though, not when he had so much love to give.
“Can’t do it?” Gently questioning him, I tilt my head.
Genuinely, I like to see him try. I can’t teach him how to use his skills, but I can encourage him to use them. Either way, I try.
“Come here, buddy.” Bending forward, I reach in, my hands held out in his direction.
Snuggling them underneath his tiny armpits, I lift the little green menace, bringing him down from his cloth crib. His small sigh prompts my own, settling him into my arms once again.
“Are you hungry?” Comes my next question, finger tapping the tiniest of noses. Turning, I look at the ship, reminded of our near non-existent amount of storage. “We have some… dried fruit left. I think.” I don’t have to meet his gaze to know he’s not amused by that.
New Plympto doesn’t offer much when it comes to food. Though, I wasn’t looking for five-star restaurants when I found it. I chose this planet in an attempt to reconnect Grogu to his past. The Jedi once used the inhabitants of this world as recruits, and I was thinking, hoping , he’d… feel something. But it’s been no use. Since returning from Luke, using his powers has become a rare thing.
“There’s not much around here.” Tapping the signal on my helmet, I scan for warm-blooded figures. The creatures near are small prey animals with no predator in sight. But there’s a distant rumble coming from above, prompting the kid’s own search. His eyes look to the sky, taking in the swirling clouds in the distance. He coos timidly at the darkness within them.
“I see it, too.”
Considering the amount of pleasant-tempered animals in the area, I set him down, letting him explore on his own. But not out of my sight. This hasn’t been easy, giving him a sense of freedom. All I want is to keep him in my arms, to keep him safe . And when he’s wandering around on the ground, how can I do that? But I keep close, my eyes never leaving his tiny figure for long.
Almost every single skill Grogu learned before coming to me is, for lack of better wording, useless. He doesn’t really need any of it. It’s almost as if that was never even his life. Like blips of another timeline somehow, and for some reason, spilled into his world. War, conflict, trauma, none of it was ever meant for him. But truthfully, I wasn’t, either. I’m not fit to care for him. The way our paths crossed is evidence of that.
“We should probably find some food, don’t you thi-”
Turning, I witness the sad sight of a frog lodged in the kid’s throat. He gurgles, before ultimately swallowing it whole. And then, he burps. Little menace.
“O…kay.” But that makes things easier, I’m fine with dried fruit.
The storm isn’t too bad, starting shortly after we retreat to the tent. Securing the flaps shut, I prepare to keep us in for the night. The extra coin spent on the waterproofed roof was worth it.
Before we went back into our quaint fortress, I grabbed a few things from the ship. Dried fruit for me, and some coloring tools for him. Back on the Crest, I had quite a few things that interested him. Most of them came from Naboo, their educational systems grand in every sense of the word. I bought picture books about animals and planets, puzzles and toy speeders, games of both strategy and chance. And every time I brought something back, it would interest him. He played with everything I got him. But all of that was destroyed on the Crest. Since that, I’ve been able to get him some crayons and a notepad.
Breaking open the bag, I lift the edge of my mask to eat a few pieces, Grogu’s back facing me. He’s sitting on the floor, resting on my bed of blankets. He’s coloring, and it’s incredibly cute, watching him create things.
His tiny coos bring me out of my head, lowering my helmet again. They’re not happy noises, they're… sad. Immediately, I lean forward, peering over his head to see what’s making him so blue. It’s a simple act, doing nothing to prepare me for what I see.
Clear as day, I see clone troopers, their blasters drawn. And then those… laser swords, some different colors than Luke’s. There’s blue and even a purple one, too. The people holding them look… scared, terrified , actually. And in the background he’s drawn some pretty intricate details, appearing to be stained glass windows on the walls and ceiling.
“Is…” Scooching closer, I continue to analyze the drawing. The distant rumble of thunder makes the moment feel dark, intense. “Are those Jedi?”
At that word, Grogu looks at me, wide eyes searching for answers, but receiving only silence. And not just from me, but from everywhere he’s looked in life. He doesn’t know why… why did this happen?
The sadness radiating from him is powerful, knocking the breath from my chest. Gently, he waddles over to me, climbing into my lap. Sightlessly, my hands find him, palms cradling his frame as he settles against my legs.
It angers me greatly, knowing this happened to him, knowing he’s felt the same pain as me. Having to witness your caregivers, your parents, be brutally massacred, is something a child should never have to see. Experiencing that kind of violence and trauma at such a young age… it scars you. It scarred me. How has he not let this affect him? How has he not turned sour from this? How does he not feel anger, and the intense desire for revenge?
Something strange wraps around me, around my emotions and thoughts. And then, that tiny hand, folding gently over my thumb. Looking down, I see him; he’s staring up at me. I don’t know what to call it exactly, his… energy? It reaches out to me, touches me, comforts me. Those hateful thoughts leave my body, and quite easily.
Oftentimes, I think Grogu does more for me than I’ll ever be able to do for him. I’ll never be able to teach him the ways of the Jedi. But… I have considered The Way. He’s my foundling, after all. It’s my right to do so, and his right to learn it, or at least have the opportunity to. He’s no longer the child, he’s my child.
“I’m so sorry, Grogu.” It’s already happened, I can’t take away his hurt. But I can be here to comfort him.
Before I realize what he’s doing, he’s popping up and out of my arms, scurrying across the ground and through the hole at the bottom tent flaps.
“Grogu!” Rolling up onto my knees, I undo the opening, lunging out to find him.
Immediately, the forceful and repeated taps of rain echo around my head. It’s storming out, the ground beneath my feet now made of mud. Looking every which way for him, I end up finding him only a few feet away.
“What’re you…”
The closer I get, the more prominent his giggles become. He’s reaching up, welcoming the downpour. And he’s smiling, too. Those little feet jump into the puddles, those bright eyes finding me.
“This is fun for you?” I ask while smiling, amused.
All he does is laugh, that joyous noise floating into my ears. With a small sigh, I decide to sit, knowing I’ll regret it later but right now, I can’t bring myself to care. His robe is completely muddy and he’ll need a bath when the weather clears up, and so will I. But it’s alright, we’re due for it, anyway.
The loud boom of thunder makes him shriek, now ducking and running to me. Laughing quietly, I hold him, whispering it’s okay. Reaching out, I then put my fingers in a nearby puddle, splashing some water at him. And that brings back his happiness all over again.
Part of me thinks this way of life is too chaotic for him; I don’t think the way we live is anything close to his life before. Maybe he needs more structure, more balance. And I… I don’t know if I can give him that.
But inside Grogu’s head, all he’s thinking about is how he never got to do this before finding his dad. He never got to meet new people, see new places, he never got to have fun . The Jedi were detached, too, and Din is just the opposite of that. Grogu has never felt more attached to someone in his entire life. He may not have one place to call home, but he doesn’t need to when home becomes a person. Whether Din knows it or not, he’s everything Grogu will ever need.
*
Aay’han
Pronunciation : AY-ye-haan
Meaning
: Bittersweet. Perfect moment of mourning and joy - remembering and celebrating.