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“I thought you had to get your droid to Han.” Din didn’t ask it. He said it more like a gentle reminder, which Luke was only too happy to ignore.
“We’re making a pit stop first,” Luke said cheerily, like he didn't just leave Artoo with Finn and dragged Din from the throne room in front of his advisors.
Age had not mellowed out his husband’s need for spontaneous trips and explorations, and Din doubted that it ever would. Luke was a traveler, always was and always will be. He wasn’t made to stay in one place, couldn’t completely learn how to ground himself like Din had. Din had known that when he first asked Luke to marry him all those years ago. He had known he couldn’t keep Luke on Mandalore with him, that he would always be watching and waiting for him to come home before sending him off on his next adventure.
But stars, if that hadn’t sent a thrill though Din every time Luke did come back home. To him.
It still did.
Din frowned. “On Jakku?”
Luke tilted his head towards Din and grinned. His hair was longer since the last time Din saw him. “It’ll be just like old times--you know, questionable cantinas, bar fights, shady business deals--”
“I’m too old for old times.”
“Nonsense. You’re in the prime of your life, sweetheart.” Luke flicked a few switches on the control panel to input the automatic landing sequence. “And you know Finn can take care of Mandalore for a few days.” Luke punched a few more buttons before leaning back in the seat. “He needed to get off Tatooine for a bit anyway.”
Din did know that.
Didn’t mean he liked it.
It seemed just like yesterday Finn was stumbling around in his training armor, holding onto Din’s hand to keep his balance as they walked through Keldabe. Now he was running off to help Leia with oh you know, buir, this and that. Finn wasn’t on Mandalore much anymore--he spent most of his time on Tatooine with Boba. And Grogu has finally decided it was time to enter his rebellious teen years, as he said, so more often than not the little womp rat was off stars knows where doing Jedi things, buir, you wouldn’t get it, which Din blames entirely on Luke and his parenting style. Grogu never used to want to leave Din until he shipped him off to Luke’s temple.
Din was feeling a bit like an empty nester truth be told, and Paz was delighted to tease him about it at every given opportunity.
“What’s on Jakku anyway?” Din asked.
There was no sense in dwelling on it. Kids grew up. Din knew that.
“I’m not sure,” Luke said. He twisted in the seat, propping his elbow on the back of it and resting his cheek against his knuckles. His beard needed a trim too, Din noticed. He wondered just what it was that Luke had been up to these past few days. His husband was usually meticulous in keeping up his appearance. “But someone needs our help.”
Din frowned. “Is this one of your Force things?”
Luke smiled and leaned forward to gently knock his head against Din’s. “It always is, sweetheart.”
Din bit back a sigh. “You exhaust me, ner ka’ra.”
“You love it.”
--
The someone who needed their help turned out to be a kid who couldn’t have been older than eighteen who nearly took Din’s head off with a quarterstaff.
It was rather impressive, actually, even though Din had ducked her next swing and drawn his spear and knocked the staff out of her hand with a well timed hit to her wrist. Not hard enough to break anything, but enough to get her to loosen her grip and leave a bruise behind. Although, fair was fair, he supposed, since she was going to leave a nice bruise on the back of his head. If it wasn't for the beskar, she would have knocked him out cold.
There weren't many people who could get a jump on Din like that.
She scrambled to grab the quarterstaff and kicked up sand in her wake, but Luke snatched it up into his hand with a bit of the Force before she could even reach it.
“That’s mine!” she sounded almost panicked.
“And I’ll give it back,” Luke spoke calmly and clearly. “If you promise not to hit my husband again.”
Her eyes flicked back to Din, and Din lowered his spear.
She was scared. Terrified, really. Din could see it in the way she stayed tense and rigid, how her eyes went a little wider and glanced around like she was looking for a way to escape, how she took stock of Din’s armor and weapons and Luke’s lightsaber before looking back at the rusted out AT walker behind her. She was scared, but not entirely willing to run away and back down.
“What’s your name?” Din asked.
She snapped her eyes back up to Din’s visor. “What?”
“My name is Din Djarin, Mand’alor the Noble.” Din put his spear back in it’s holder, but he did not move closer to her. He kept his stance wide and open, trying to seem as non threatening as he could. Even after all these years it still felt odd using his official title, and he wasn’t sure if the girl would even understand it’s significance. “And this is Grand Master Luke Skywalker--my husband.”
The girl had narrowed her eyes, but they went wide again.
“Mand’alor…?” She blinked, then shook her head and scowled. “What’s a king doing all the way out here?”
“I was hoping you could tell me,” Din said honestly.
She relaxed slightly, her confusion momentarily overtaking her fear.
“I’ve felt you calling out to me,” Luke finally stepped in. He didn’t give the girl her staff back, but he did step closer until he was standing shoulder to shoulder with Din. “You’ve been asking me to come find you.”
Her posture went completely lax at that.
“What are you talking about?”
Din shot a sharp look at Luke, who let out a sigh.
--
“So, Finn likes a boy.”
Rey--she had finally told them her name after a few more minutes of needling from Din--hadn’t wanted them anywhere near her hollowed out walker. Hadn’t wanted them anywhere near her, really, but Luke wasn’t willing to leave just yet. So they set up camp far enough from Rey to not be a bother but still close enough to keep her walker in sight.
It was dark enough now for Din to slip his helmet off, and Luke was gently poking and prodding the back of his head to make sure Rey hadn’t given him any more damage than a bruise and a headache.
“What?” Din blinked. “Since when?”
Luke hummed. “Since yesterday.” he popped back into Din’s line of sight with a smile. The firelight cast a warm glow on his face. “He’s one of Leia’s pilots--Poe, I think his name was? He’s the one I got the data drop from.”
The name sounded familiar, but Din had met too many of Leia’s resistance pilots to put a face to it.
“He’s very handsome, apparently,” Luke continued. “Very rugged. Scruffy.”
“Oh, stars--” Din groaned. “Please tell me he’s not another Han.” then, “Our kids need to stop growing up.”
“He’s twenty-two, sweetheart. And Grogu’s eighty,” Luke’s fingers prodded the back of Din’s head for one last check before he slid his hands to Din’s cheeks. “That’s about as grown up as you get.”
“Grogu is still a child,” Din grumbled.
Luke raised his eyebrows. “A child that’s planet hopping?”
“He’s rebelling.” Din said.
Luke laughed softly, then smiled even softer. His thumb ghosted along Din’s cheek, and then he was gently pushing their foreheads together. Din sighed softly, lifting his own hand to tangle in Luke’s hair. It was grey now, but no less beautiful. Like winter sunshine.
“They’re still our kids, Din.” Luke spoke quietly, so only Din and the firelight could hear. “Yeah, they’ve grown up, but they’ll still come home.”
Din closed his eyes for a moment. “I know, ner ka'ra but it’s just--”
He trailed off.
“I know,” Luke echoed. “I miss them too.”
Din let out a shaky breath.
“How long do you plan on staying here anyway?” he asked. He needed to change the subject, as he wasn’t particularly inclined to start crying in the middle of nowhere, Jakku. Maybe Paz was right. Maybe he had finally hit his midlife crisis.
“Until Rey agrees to come with us. I can’t--I won’t leave her here.” Luke answered. He smiled, then pressed a kiss to the corner of Din’s mouth. “It’ll be like old times--camping outside, watching the stars, having s-”
“You’re exhausting.” Din cut Luke off before he could finish.
Luke kissed him again. “You love it.”