Chapter Text
Luke looks at him with sad eyes.
Whenever Din visits Yavin IV to spend some time with his son, Luke sits in his corner under a tree and watches them from afar under the guise of meditation. Grogu runs around with glee, showing off every little trick he learned from his Master. Din follows the tiny, green menace and plays with him until those big, dark eyes get droopy and cute, little yawns start taking over his happy coos.
Din knows that Luke watches them. They have been doing this for months now. Somewhere along the way, he has learned that the young Jedi doesn’t always rely on his bright blue eyes to see. No, Luke doesn’t need to have his eyes open to see Grogu’s antics or Din’s doting over his only child. The Force, or whatever other Jedi magic that Din doesn’t know the first thing about, ensures that Luke can see them no matter how far away they are. So Luke always watches. And despite never having voiced the fact, Din feels safer that way.
When it’s time to put Grogu to bed, Luke comes inside with them.
The first time around, the Jedi had to walk him to his son’s room, of course. The second time, Grogu was still awake enough in his arms to grip his Master’s hand that was in the middle of caressing his little head. The iron fist around Luke’s forefinger and a sleepy gurgle ensured he followed them to Grogu’s crib. The third time, Luke remembered that Grogu had managed to open his sippy cup somehow as his Master was busy making breakfast in the kitchen and spilled all the juice that morning. So he came with them with clean bedding in his hands and made up the crib. The fourth time, it was laundry day when Din visited. Luke had to quickly grab Grogu’s pajamas from the dry pile in the main room that he hadn’t folded yet. Din had help changing Grogu into the tiny outfit that night. The fifth time, Grogu jumped into a muddy puddle after a frog. Luke prepared hot water in a small basin in the fresher then made himself into a willing target for the toy water gun in hopes of keeping Grogu distracted for long enough to actually be given a bath by his buir without giving Din faint claw marks and surprisingly hard kicks. It occurred to Din as they put Grogu down in his crib together that night that Grogu had various toys which certainly didn’t come from himself. The sixth time, Grogu simply woke up as Din was carrying him inside to extend his short, chubby arm towards Luke. A patoo was all it took for Luke to quietly trail after them towards the little one’s room. It became a habit after that.
Luke helps with bedtime whenever Din fights his way away from Mand’alor duties for a night to go see his ad. They chat.
Grogu hugs the toy frog the instant Din puts it down in the crib with his son.
“He is fond of that plushie. He… didn’t have toys before. I could never afford them. I could barely feed myself before him, being the beroya of my covert and all. I didn’t even think to get him something to play with. Thank you .”
Luke’s smile in answer is big, bright, kind. A man who has such a smile should always show it off. Din stares at the expression under his buy’ce. He notices the stark contrast between the brilliant smile and the sad eyes almost immediately.
“Grogu named him Froggie, for apparent reasons.” Luke chuckles as the baby nuzzles his face in the soft toy. “He told me that you gave him a pretty, shiny ball. I showed him all kinds and sizes of balls in the market but he wouldn’t even look at any of them. Said it was not the same. He also told me all about dozens of adventures and games with his buir. Apparently, you can shoot fire from your hands and you got yourself eaten by an evil dragon to beat it. Grogu was allowed to go with you. You taught him how to fix up home . You always allowed him to push all the colorful buttons and he sometimes did it just because he knew that you would pick him up in the end. You never once scolded him. Wherever you went, he went. His time with you makes up his happiest memories, Din.”
Din might have cried just a bit behind his visor that night.
“When he remembers the massacre of the Jedi, he is always scared. He curls up into himself, dulls the Force around him unconsciously, makes himself quiet. I taught him to use good thoughts and good memories to fight those. He showed me a bad droid with big eyes who pointed a gun at him. Then you shot it down. You saved him from weird strangers, scary spiders and even a soup that was trying to eat him that one time. He thinks of all that now when he gets scared. He knows that had you been at the Jedi Temple back then, you would have saved Grogu and everyone else. You are stronger than anyone, Din. You always come back for Grogu even if you two stay apart for a little while. You gave him a new home. You always know if Grogu is scared or hurt. You always save him. He knows that he doesn’t have anything to be afraid of anymore.”
That was a conversation that made Din pick Grogu out of the crib and just let his precious ad sleep against his chest. That was the first night that Din didn’t leave after putting Grogu to sleep. He stayed over for the first time.
On his very next visit, Luke watched him teach Grogu how to shoot better with his water gun before walking to his tiny padawan’s room with them once Grogu started yawning. He changed out of the wet shirt as he had once again become Grogu’s target then showed Din the newest additions to Grogu’s room. A narrow cot and some awkwardly crafted thing that suspiciously looked like an armor stand.
It occurred to him that Luke was giving him space to stay. Space to remove his armor and lie down and let his baby sleep holding onto his true, flesh, face. Space to be an aliit with the foundling who changed his life.
Luke’s small smile didn’t mask his sad eyes when Din thanked him, promising to help with anything the Jedi might need in payment to his kindness.
Din stayed for the second time.
The third time was on an evening when Din made it to Yavin IV late and caught them in the middle of dinner. He sat across Luke even though he couldn’t eat with them. Grogu’s highchair was next to Luke’s seat. A bowl of soup was on the tray. Grogu had the cutest pouting, glaring face at the food despite the expression becoming half-hearted with the joy of having his buir over. Luke had a clean spoon in his hand which he dipped into Grogu’s soup then put into his own mouth in an open display.
Only after that did Grogu finally put his own little spoon into good use.
Luke flashed a grin at Din.
“We are still working on that ‘the soup that tried to eat him’ thing. At first, he would just throw the bowl away. Now, I know to show him it’s safe to eat and fill the bowl a little more so he is still full after spilling half of it over both of us. He insists on eating on his own, you know? He told me that you clapped when he ate his own food and all by himself instead of getting into that delicious egg bucket one last time.”
Din clapped for every spoonful of soup that made into Grogu’s mouth. Luke joined in between his own eating. Grogu giggled and cooed at both of them throughout the meal and tired his little self out blabbering at them. He was out like a light ten minutes after his Master took his empty bowl away and his buir picked him up.
It occurred to Din as he cleaned his ad’ika’s face with a washcloth and Luke brought Froggie over for the crib that the younger man knew so much about Grogu. Luke had become his main caregiver. Luke was doing a spectacular job of it.
Din stayed over that night so he could spend a little more time with his son in the morning before he had to leave. But he stayed also because Luke jokingly asked and he sat down with the Jedi to tell him about the soup that tried to eat Grogu before the conversation just took them from one thing to the other. Luke learned about the krayt dragon. Din learned the frog stew recipe of Luke’s own Jedi Master. He learned how Grogu loved eating that.
“It might sound disgusting but I must admit it grows on you.” Luke laughed as if seeing the bewildered expression that Din surely had under his buy’ce. “My master was of Grogu’s species. He thought what we eat was insufficient at best. Made sure I ate tons of frog stew myself.”
They laughed together until Grogu woke up, grumpy and starving.
The fourth time Din stayed over was a rainy night on Yavin IV. Grogu woke up with a sudden bolt of lightning half an hour after they put him to bed. Din and Luke discovered that night as Din was about to leave the meager temple that Grogu had learned how to float himself out of his crib. All at once, Din had an armful of crying, green toddler and it became a must to stay until morning. Then that too became a habit.
Din always goes to Yavin IV around noon then stays the night with his son and the young Jedi Master.
Din flies his new star fighter to the planet. Luke earnestly told him about the ship and his late mother the first time he saw it. Now, Din races his X-Wing on days of good weather and when Grogu, the tiny speed junkie that he is, pleads for some action. Luke laughed, getting himself to a point of wheezing at the end when he first saw Grogu strapped in the baby seat that Din installed in the small astromech compartment behind the pilot seat. After that time though, all the ship got from the Jedi have been, and still are , a few sad gazes its way.
Well, Din calls those gazes sad but the sadness is never the main emotion behind Luke’s eyes. It’s always pushed back, always masked by tenderness or glee. It’s always carefully hidden in the blue of his eyes that sparkles with a wisdom beyond the younger man’s years. Still, Din always sees it.
Luke watches him with sad eyes.
Din flies his starfighter to Yavin IV. Din plays with Grogu while Luke meditates. Grogu gets tired. Din walks inside to put him in his crib. Luke comes with them and helps. They chat. Both while and for a little longer after Grogu’s bedtime. Din stays the night. Din hugs his son goodbye in the morning. Din leaves as Grogu waves his tiny claws after the starfighter.
Luke watches them with sad eyes.
Luke is watching them with sad eyes, Din notices.
He glances down at his ad sleeping peacefully in his embrace. He raises his head back at the Jedi Master who walks over to sit himself on the sofa next to them and carefully tucks Froggie in Din’s arms as well. Grogu latches onto the toy as if sensing its presence the moment his Master brings it over.
It occurs to Din that they are comfortable navigating around each other’s personal space now. Only a few months ago, he would have shot down anyone who dared to get this close to his sleeping child and him. Yet Luke has become an exception.
He watches the younger man’s every move.
Luke blinks once, having sensed the gaze on his face but carries on with what he is doing. He reaches for Din’s cloak and drapes a corner of it around Grogu and Froggie.
Din lets him. Din keeps staring.
After Grogu has his plushie friend and is warm, Luke leans against the backrest and stares right back at Din.
It’s the first time that those blue eyes are allowed to openly show the sadness buried in their sea.
Din is lost in the depth of the color and the intensity of the emotion.
Why?
It echoes in his head. Why does Luke Skywalker look at them like that? Why is he always sorrowful beneath the cheer, compassion, pure power and curiosity that seems to make up his person? Why?
Who hurt him?
Why does he look at Din and his ad that way?
Luke sighs quietly.
A black gloved hand reaches out to stroke the thin puffs of baby hair on Grogu’s small head.
“You remind me of someone I knew.” Luke whispers lest they disturb the little one’s sleep. “Someone I lost. Someone I dearly loved. You remind me of what it could have been.” The young Jedi directly meets Din’s eyes behind the visor.
Din’s heart breaks.
He is sure that he hears the sound of a piece of his very soul shattering at this very instant. Someone Luke lost. Someone Luke loved. Someone Luke dearly loved. Someone Luke loved. Someone Luke loved. Someone Luke loved. Someone Luke loved. Someone Luke loved. Someone Luke loved. Someone Luke l -
Why does it hurt?
“He was-” Luke starts but falls silent suddenly, as if something heavy in his chest or stuck in his throat stops him from speaking.
Din’s arms tighten around his baby, as if the action will banish this tight, ugly, alien feeling holding him captive. He doesn’t even know what is happening to him all of a sudden. He doesn’t know why he feels this way just at the mention of- Surely, he couldn’t have- Surely, Din doesn’t- Surely , it isn’t-
Luke Skywalker is his ad’s teacher. Luke Skywalker saved them back on the Moff’s ship. Luke Skywalker is a friend now. Luke Skywalker is a jetii , the ancient enemy of Mandalorians. Luke Skywalker would never be accepted by the clans. Luke Skywalker is bright and perfect, loving and alive, brave and powerful. Luke Skywalker is Grogu’s Jedi Master and that’s all there is between them.
Luke Skywalker watches them with sad eyes because Din reminds him of someone he loved.
It hurts.
It doesn’t have any right to hurt.
Din stays silent.
Luke takes a slow breath. “-another strong, fierce man who always wore a helmet. He had done as much bad in life as he had good. He had suffered, he had lost, he was lonely. Then he lost his way. But I still- I always loved him. In the end, he was a good man at heart. I know he did the unforgivable but I couldn’t help it. I still loved him a lot. He died in my arms. I miss him. And I guess I wonder whether- If he met his son as an infant, would he have changed for the better like you did? If he got to hold his baby just once , would it all have been different?”
A tear slides down Luke’s cheek.
Din wants to reach over and wipe it away. He doesn’t. Not just a man but an ad too. Did the ad die as well? Did Luke lose his aliit ? How painful it must be.
Din tilts his eyes down at his ad’ika and knows that he would perish if he ever lost this tiny sun. Grogu is worth more than all the stars in the galaxy. Grogu is his lifeline, a small mercy of fate. Grogu is his baby. Grogu is everything.
Luke Skywalker lost a lover and an ad.
Din doesn’t know how to help him. Is it even possible to make that hurt a little less?
“I’m- Sorry , I don’t even know why I told you all that. Of course, the beskar muffles most of it but you were projecting curiosity all over the Force and I just- You are such a good man, Din Djarin. You are an amazing father. You are a kind man. They call you Mand’alor the Benevolent, you know? It’s because you take in refugees and orphans and protect them on your own planet with your people. I guess I couldn’t hold myself. I am never like this with anyone. Not even Leia. I’m sorry.”
Luke stands up abruptly and flees before Din gets to tell him that it’s alright and that he should never apologize for trusting Din to share his pain.
The next time they talk about this kind of thing, it’s Din who is hurt.
He goes to Yavin IV despite not being fully healed only because he promised Grogu a week ago to go see the small festival of the equally small village that Luke buys his supplies from.
Walking while trying to disguise a bad limp is hard enough on his own. Chasing Grogu around becomes impossible very quickly. Luke gives him a side glance that openly says that the Jedi knows something’s wrong. Still, Grogu is ecstatic that buir is here and they are in this colorful place with lots of delicious food all around.
They play the silly festival games. Din shoots cups and wins Grogu a Rodian doll which the kid immediately puts in his mouth. Luke wins half a dozen plushies in all kinds of rigged games after him. Din is thankful for the opportunity to settle with carrying his ad and the prizes instead of forcing himself more to ignore his half-healed injuries. And of course he watches.
Luke excels in any game Grogu excitedly points at while wriggling in his buir’s arms and gnawing on his new toys.
Din watches the swift, precise moves of the Jedi’s hands. He watches the colorful festival lights dance over shiny, blonde strands. He watches the way those blue eyes focus on the game, reflecting the light from the big festival fire nearby. Luke Skywalker looks-
Grogu squeals in delight, dropping the mon calamari plushie that he had been digging his tiny paws into.
Accompanied by applause and whistles from the small audience attracted by the young man who won all the games, Luke makes his way over to them with the prize of the last game, a toy rifle that’s taller than Grogu. The Jedi smiles as he holds it out for the little one to inspect. His eyes find Din’s. A corner of his lips tilts just a bit higher, widening the soft smile that holds many captive tonight.
Din can only stare at that one perfect dimple on an equally perfect, and very soft looking , cheek. He clears his throat, wants to say something. He should at least thank the Jedi for the toys and the entertainment for Grogu. His voice seems to escape him. He-
Grogu being Grogu, suddenly tugs at the toy rifle in an open attempt to put it in his mouth as well.
Reflexively, Luke pulls the toy away and Din takes a step back. Their punishment for the wrong move is delivered immediately.
A high pitched, loud wail takes over the festival place.
They spend the next fifteen minutes or so trying to convince all kinds and sizes of sentinents who crowd around them to try to distract the baby with all kinds of things that the little one is alright, just tired and grumpy. It’s already well past his bedtime after all.
They find their way back to the temple driving the speeders very slowly. Grogu briefly wakes up to demand all of his newest toys in his crib with himself then drifts away again in a huge pile of plushies. They almost forget to give him Froggie, get two more minutes of half-hearted crying that’s more fussing and whining until they realize the problem and finally exit the room unscatched.
“What happened?” Luke isn’t late to ask.
Din drops all pretense of being in perfect health as always. He lets himself limp to the couch in the living area and lets himself slump over it. “Another challenge for the Darksaber. This time, it was too close.” He doesn’t explain further.
Luke doesn’t ask. Instead, the young Jedi gets rid of his cloak, rummages around in the kitchen and returns with a bottle of spotchka.
Din’s heart beats painfully hard. Does Luke want him to-
Luke hands him a glass and with an almost apologetic expression, a bright orange straw with some ridiculous cartoon character’s picture taped on it.
“I keep a few around for Grogu. He spills milk everywhere otherwise.” A huff of a chuckle accompanies the words.
Din lets himself snort as he turns the comical straw in his hand. “I thought you got him sippy cups.” He tilts his head at Luke who in turn, visibly winces.
“Yeah, um, let’s say that didn’t go as planned. We tend to forget just how intelligent Grogu is. And how stubborn he can get too. He learned to open the sippy cups so he can pour the juice all around then put everything in his mouth. Something along the lines of juice making everything tastier. Now, I hold the cup and just allow him to sip from the straw. I mean, last week, I caught him trying to bathe a frog in juice. A frog , Din. Your ad learned to marinate his snacks.”
The wave of laughter ripping itself out from his lungs catches both Din himself and Luke off-guard.
Still, the Jedi isn’t late to join him, giving even more details to the story and his own trauma regarding a nine hundred years old Grogu-species Master and marinated frogs between wheezes. “-He would! Master Yoda soaked those frogs in some disgusting sauce before making his infamous stew! While they were alive! He made me catch all of them and keep them from escaping the sauce pot! When I- When Grogu tried to put that poor frog in his sippy cup, I almost fainted. And he glared at me. With his face all scrunched and with his angry pout, you know the one. He glared at me for ten minutes because I saved the little frog from his tiny, evil claws.”
It starts to hurt his ribs to laugh. With the wounds from the latest challenge still raw, Din feels tears gathering in his eyes. “And how did you fix that? My ad’ika never forgives in the case of a stolen snack.” He asks when he composes himself a little.
The Jedi takes a huge gulp of spotchka before going into another fit of giggles. “We baked cookies. I even made all the cookies frog shaped to earn forgiveness. I swear, I feel like I’m still the padawan sometimes.”
Frog cookies , huh? Din smiles to himself under his buy’ce.
Suddenly, Luke’s own smile turns bitter.
“ You miss Yoda .” Din says carefully.
Luke finishes the rest of his spotchka in one go and gives himself a refill immediately. “I do. I miss a lot of people. I miss my aunt and uncle. I miss my friends. I miss Lando. I miss Obi-Wan. I miss Master Yoda.-” A sigh interrupts the list. And as if fearing something, Luke adds the last part tentatively. “ I miss him too.”
Him?
Oh, him .
Din feels his chest start to hurt and something tells him it’s not because of his bruised ribs. All too quickly, he banishes the thought with his drink.
Wordlessly, Luke reaches over to give Din a refill as well.
Din watches the gloved hand and the thin flesh fingers on the other one. He sees the hunched back, the sad eyes, the tired man. As if he carries the weight of the entire galaxy on his shoulders. But then again, Luke once did. Luke does carry the weight of the New Jedi Order that he is trying to build from scratch. It reminds Din of the heavy saber strapped to his own belt and the Mandalorians scattered all around the galaxy. The cursed planet, the covert that raised him, the other Mandalorians who remove their helmets, the Armorer- The last words the woman spoke to Din.
He looks at the straw in his hand. He squeezes his fist around it.
Luke is startled probably from the dark feelings he must be raidating.
“I am not a Mandalorian anymore. I am… a fraud. It’s why this last challenge was a close one. They keep getting harder and harder and they aren’t ceasing anytime soon. No matter what I do, no matter how hard I try- I am not a Mandalorian anymore. My covert doesn’t talk to me anymore. I still wear the armor and I dishonor it but I am too afraid to remove it. I don’t know about life outside beskar. I can’t give it up. I can’t give it up! It’s why she challenged me herself in the end.”
The words spill out. The tears do too.
Luke’s eyes are wide and so very blue as the younger man gapes at Din.
“ What happened? ”
Din closes his eyes for a second, takes a deep breath and steels himself. “The Armorer challenged me for the Darksaber. She is the leader of my covert, the one who forged my armor. She half raised me, became my mentor, supported me after I became the beroya of my covert. She is- I didn’t want to hurt her. I didn’t want to beat her because it results in- I didn’t want to do that to her but Luke, she was going to make me remove my buy’ce, my helmet. She…”
“ is your family. ” Luke fills in when Din pathetically trails off.
“Yes.-” He takes another deep breath. “-But this helmet belonged to the Mandalorian who saved me from the droids in Aq Vetina. He took me to the Fighting Corps, kept track of my development, sent me holo messages and made sure I would inherit his helmet after his death. I can’t give it up. The Armorer is my family but this helmet is family too. She wasn’t going to kill me when she won. She was going to take my helmet and the Darksaber. I had to-”
“Is she alive?” Luke asks in a whisper.
It hurts to hear the question in the first place but Din knows that he would have asked the same thing had their places been switched.
“She would be better off dead. I beat her. She didn’t yield. I didn’t kill her even though she didn’t yield. I didn’t even touch her helmet. I walked away. I made her an outcast like me. I am not a Mandalorian anymore and now she isn’t either. Paz must have become the next leader of the covert. She is probably waiting for me to go back so she can try to kill me for real and I have to give her an honorable death. I- I can’t go back, Luke. I know I can’t ever beat her when I know death awaits her at the end. She will know it’s not a fair fight if I go easy on her. She will keep trying. In the end, she will beat me for real. She will take my helmet. Before the helmet, I was a foundling. No one adopted me. I had no clan. She will take my helmet. ”
Fear.
He is sure Luke can feel it. He thanks the stars that Grogu is already asleep and likely not picking up his buir’s distress. Because Din doesn’t know how to deal with this. The Armorer, his covert, his life on one end and the face of his Mandalorian buir, or the buir he always wished would adopt him, on the other end. It’s not even a choice. Because he can’t choose. He is afraid. Afraid . Afraid. Afraid. Afraid. Afraid. Afraid. Afraid. Afraid. Afraid. Afraid. Afr -
“Din-” Luke places his flesh hand on his arm. Instantly, the touch brings him back to the moment. Even under the beskar vambrace, he swears he can feel the warmth of the Jedi’s skin. “- why aren’t you a Mandalorian anymore? ”
Right.
It hits him that Luke Skywalker doesn’t even know.
“Because I showed my face. I took off my buy’ce. Only our clan is allowed to see our faces. On the Moff’s ship-”
“- I was the only one who kept staring at you. ” Luke cuts in then leans away with a horrified gasp. “Din I’m- I- All the others there saw the back of your head for a moment before they all looked away. I- It’s my fault?”
“ No! ” Din catches Luke’s flesh hand in his own as the Jedi mournfully shakes his head. “It’s not your fault, Luke. It was I who removed my buy’ce. I thought I would never see Grogu again. He was my foundling. I was a foundling. All I remember from my Mandalorian buir is his buy’ce. He never got the chance to adopt me and show me his flesh face. So he gifted the only face of his that I knew to me. I wanted to give my ad more than that. I wanted Grogu to have more than a rusty helmet to remember me by if I died before our reunion. It was my fault.”
They fall silent. Luke’s hand trembles in Din’s own. Two small teardrops make their way down the Jedi’s cheeks. Din isn’t in any different state.
“I-” Luke swallows once as if trying to get rid of a knot in his throat. “ Just for once, let me look on you with my own eyes. It’s what he said to me. Just before he died in my arms, he asked me to remove his helmet. He- He wanted to give me more than a black helmet to remember him by.”
A sob breaks out of the younger man, shaking his lean frame. How long has Luke been holding all this inside? Did he have no one to mourn the man he loved and lost with? Did he have no one to listen to him and hold him close? Did he-
Was this why Din reminded Luke of that man?
“Din-” Luke starts again between the sobs. “-I lost him too early. It’s not fair! I waited for my father to come get me all my life. I never believed them when they said he died. I could feel he lived. I had just found him. I lost him too early. I miss my father so much .”
Luke’s
father?