Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Luke’s return to the waking world was not peaceful.

He was pulled from his dreams abruptly, jerking upright and gasping and choking as panic raced through him. He tried desperately to get air into his lungs, and while he knew that he was breathing, it didn’t feel like it. Luke’s chest burned, and he gagged and heaved and sputtered from the pain, but nothing left his mouth except the air he was desperately trying to keep in.

A warm hand was placed on his back, rubbing circles along his shoulder blades and keeping him steady as he jerked and trembled. Harsh words were barked out in a staccato language Luke didn’t understand, and he felt his heart quicken and his breathing get more shallow as the rolling panic flooded his lungs.

He couldn’t see, and it took him a moment to realize it was because his eyes were still shut.

“It’s alright,” the voice speaking to him was distinctly female. The Basic she spoke had a harsh and clicking accent that Luke couldn’t place. “You’re in a safe place.”

Luke cracked open his eyes.

The first thing Luke noticed was just how many colors were in the room.

The next thing he noticed was that the woman sitting beside him wore a helmet that looked like pure gold.

Luke opened his mouth. His lips couldn’t quite form the words he was looking for, and he struggled to even slur his way through his question. But the words wouldn’t work, and in his frustration Luke slapped a hand to his thigh. He winced immediately after and ignored the tears that gathered in the corner of his eyes. He had hit a bruise that felt like it had sunk into his bones.

“You are on the planet Mandalore. Your x-wing crashed out in the desert planes. The Mand’alor found you—brought you back here.” The woman answered for him anyway. “You’re concussed. That’s why you can’t speak.”

Luke nodded slowly. He remembered being in his x-wing, but anything before that was foggy.

He tried to remember, but the movement of his head sent a sharp ache through his skull. Luke hissed and pressed his palm against his temple, and whatever else he was trying to recall was lost to the pain.

“Try not to move your head too much,” the woman stood as another helmeted figure entered the room. Luke caught a glimpse of bright yellow armor, but looking at the color for too long made his head spin. They were carrying a hydropack, which they gave to the woman before slipping back out again. “We would have put you in the bactatank, but I’m afraid they’re all in use.”

The woman poked a hole in the pack with a knife, then passed it to Luke.

“Drink slowly,” she instructed.

Luke didn’t see where she had gotten the knife, nor where she put it after, but he didn’t dwell on it. He put the hydropack to his lips. The metallic aftertaste of the knife lingered on the plastic—it was almost pleasant on his tongue, chasing away the bitterness that clung to his teeth. He was not able to drink much before he was throwing himself half off the bed, heaving up the water he drank and what little was left in his stomach. It burned the back of his throat and stuck to his teeth. The hydropack fell to the floor with a wet schlop, mixing with the sounds of Luke’s own vomit as it hit the floor.

The woman clicked her tongue and handed Luke a bucket as he heaved again.

There was a soft knock at the door.

“Come in.” The woman called, raising her voice just enough to be heard over the sound of Luke’s reaching.

Luke looked up long enough to see that the man who slipped inside was helmeted and armored as well, but where the other armor he had seen held color, his was nothing but a well polished silver. Then Luke ducked back down and vomited into the bucket.

“Koska told me he was awake,” he said.

“He is,” the woman agreed. “But he is heavily concussed. It will be awhile before you can get a coherent word out of him.”

Luke sucked in a deep breath, his throat burning as he swallowed air.

All he could taste was bile.

“He’ll be alright, won’t he?”

“Once we get some food and water in him, he will be.” The woman answered. Luke glanced up. She was looking at him with a tilted head. “That is, if our guest can keep anything down.”

Then she turned and looked at that other man, slipping back into that odd language again. The man nodded along, sparing a glance back at Luke every few words. Luke watched them with a spinning head and churning stomach, and he flinched back as the man suddenly snapped something out. The woman ducked her head in apology, and looked at Luke one more time before she slipped out of the room.

She left a heavy silence behind.

Luke swallowed, set the bucket down, and slowly sat up. The room tilted and swayed, and he sat with his head in his hands as he waited for his vision to level back out.

“Wha’ ‘append?” He asked, forcing the words through his lips even as they slurred off his tongue. He didn’t dare look up yet.

For a moment, the man didn’t say anything.

Then from the corner of his eye Luke watched as he crossed the room and sat on the stool that the woman had been previously occupying. The man still didn’t speak for a while, waiting for Luke to feel at ease enough to look back up.

“I was hoping you could tell me.” The man finally said. He didn’t sound upset or angry—his voice remained calm and even, soothing Luke in a way that he didn’t completely understand. The visor of his helmet met Luke’s eyes in an even stare.

Luke could only look for so long before he ducked his head back down, shaking it slowly in an answer.

He couldn’t remember.

He hardly remembered being in the x-wing as it was—what he did remember was trying to pull the ship up as he came hurtling towards the ground and the panic that choked him and flooded his lungs, but that was it.

“Do you know where you are?” The man asked softly.

Luke nodded and looked back up at him. He had leaned a little closer to the bed, keeping his body language relaxed and open—even with his armor, he didn’t look threatening. Just concerned. Worried.

“The—the lady said I was on Mandalore.”

The words came easier this time.

“Do you know where Mandalore is?” The man asked. His voice was soft and quiet and patient and full of a practiced calmness.

Luke shook his head.

His brain felt like it was rattling around in his skull. Tears welled up in his eyes, and Luke dropped his hands and tangled them in the blanket in his frustration. No matter how hard Luke thought he couldn’t remember. Mandalore was important, he knew that, and he knew that this was something he should know, but no matter how hard Luke thought all he came up with was a more painful headache.

“It’s okay,” the man was quick to soothe him. “You had a pretty serious head injury—you’re probably not going to remember some things right away.” he paused, then, “We’re in the outer rim--only a few parsecs from Tatooine.”

Tatooine.

Luke knew Tatooine.

Luke nodded again, slower this time, then stiffened as he felt a tiny hand pull at the blankets and paw at his leg. It was warm and clawed and so impossibly small. A bubbly coo sounded just below where that hand was, and then the man was swooping over Luke’s bed and scooping up—scooping up a baby. Luke stared at it, took in the large eyes and even larger ears. It looked familiar. It felt familiar, pushing thoughts and feelings of warmth and comfort and safety towards Luke. He didn’t understand how or why, but it felt so familiar and comforting that Luke didn’t dare question it.

The man set the child in his lap, who cooed again and pointed back towards Luke.

“He’s hurt right now, ad’ika,” the man spoke even softer than he did before, and as that strange language rolled off his tongue Luke leaned forward. It did not sound so harsh this time. It sounded melodic, coming from him. “Vi enteyor cuyir ulyc.”

The baby’s ears dropped and he nodded, then settled into the man’s lap with quiet babbles.

“I’m sorry if he frightened you,” the man looked back up at Luke, the visor of his helmet once again meeting Luke’s eyes.

It was almost unnerving.

Luke blinked slowly. “It’s...okay.” Then he swallowed and looked back down at the blanket that covered his legs. It was a pretty blue color and incredibly soft. Like a baby’s blanket. “Who are you?”

The words slipped from Luke’s mouth without a thought, but the man answered him anyway.

“I am the Mand’alor.”

It took Luke a moment to place the name—the title, because that wasn’t a name. Wasn’t the man’s name.

“You pulled me from my ship.” Luke said slowly. He took the time to sound out the words, to tell himself that this is what happened, to try and remember. But he didn’t. “The—that’s what—what the lady said.”

The Mand’alor nodded.

He did not ask if Luke remembered.

“I wasn’t able to save much,” the Mand’alor said. He sounded apologetic about it, but Luke couldn’t even remember what had been in that ship besides himself. He said as much, and the Mand’alor stayed quiet for a moment while the child cooed softly. It sounded sad, the cooing, and the child reached towards Luke again, scooting forward on the Mand’alor’s lap so that he could place his hands on the edge of the bed.

Luke hesitantly reached out. The child met him halfway, taking hold of Luke’s finger.

“Do you remember your name?” The Mand’alor finally asked. He sounded hesitant.

Luke looked back down. He looked at his hand, at the little green hand holding his, then gently pulled away. He remembered his name—of course he remembered his name. He was Luke. Luke. Luke...Luke.

“Luke. My name is Luke.” he said this slowly to, waiting for his memory to kick in and tell him the rest of his name. But it didn’t, and Luke could feel his panic start to rise again and flood his lungs and fill his stomach.

“Luke,” The Mand’alor repeated it softly, bringing Luke back down enough to momentarily curb his fears. “Luke, do you know where you came from?”

Luke opened his mouth to reply, but closed it just as quickly. His heart hammered and his pulse raced as he tried to recall the answer. The child cooed again and reached for Luke’s hand, but Luke drew it back, dug his fingers into his thigh hard enough to hurt.

“I—I don’t know.” His voice shook as the words spilled from his lips. “I don’t know.”

Luke couldn’t remember.

He couldn’t remember anything.

Chapter Text

“What do you mean he’s gone?”

The padawan who had delivered the news flinched as Anakin’s hand slammed down on the table, rattling the holopucks and distorting the image it was showing. The padawan’s master, Shani, stood tall and unflinching beside him, meeting Anakin’s gaze head on. Her eyes were a bright green--acidic in their nature--and Anakin was the first to look away.

“It means he’s gone, General.” She said. Her voice was clipped, swimming with irritation and an underling worry that she would not properly voice. “He shut his communicator off, broke off from his flight path, and we lost his tracking signal when he was flying over Mandalore. There was nothing we could do.”

Anakin closed his eyes and held his breath until his lungs burned.

“Do we know what happened?” He asked.

“I’m afraid we can only speculate.” Shani answered. Her voice got softer and she ducked her head, reaching across the table to place a hand on Anakin’s shoulder. He looked up at her, and she squeezed his shoulder gently. It did little to offer him comfort. “Anakin--you know that we have to assume the worst--”

Anakin looked away, cutting her off and dismissing her without a word.

His gaze fell on the holoscreen that was projecting Luke’s flight path.

It was just supposed to be a scouting mission--a scouting mission that Luke wasn’t even supposed to go on. Padme had wanted their children to stay out of this war, and Anakin had wholeheartedly agreed. He had left them on Naboo with their mother to grow up in security and luxury and stability, to give them a life where they could remain faceless in this war--where they would know as little about this war as they could. But Leia was as stubborn as Anakin and Luke was an adrenaline junkie at heart, and while Leia had dropped her Jedi training and wormed her way into briefing rooms and General meetings, Luke had finished his and secured his own x-wing and joined scouting missions with or without Anakin’s permission.

It was all Anakin could do to keep his children out of the public eye, to let them remain nameless and a mystery to the mandalorians, to sooth Padme’s worries and promise his wife that he would keep their children safe.

But Luke had begged to go on this scouting mission--a solo scouting mission--and Anakin had let him because he wasn’t supposed to go anywhere near Mandalore.

Luke was just supposed to do a quick flight through the Mandalore system to see if the mandalorians had any ships stationed outside of the planet's flight zone—he hadn’t taken Artoo with him because it was supposed to be a one and done thing.

Anakin shook his head. “They wouldn’t kill him.”

“General—“ Shani started. Her voice hardened again, putting that wall back up between them.

“They wouldn’t.” Anakin repeated. His voice was hard, final in it’s tone.

He was not sure if he believed his own words. Mandalorians were ruthless in their executions, and while it was likely that they wouldn’t know who Luke was unless he told them, it was just as likely that they wouldn’t keep him alive.

Shani frowned and took a step back. She tucked her hands behind her back and leveled Anakin with a hard stare. “General, we cannot send a rescue mission for someone who may be alive. I regret that it’s your son, but with the siege--”

“We’ll put the siege off then.” Anakin snapped.

Shani stayed silent for a moment. Her padawan looked between the two of them, eyes wide.

“You do not get to make those decisions.” she finally said.

--

Luke woke more gently this time.

There was a light weight on his chest--so light that for a moment Luke didn’t even notice it.

He slowly blinked open his eyes, taking the time to adjust to the colors and the light. His head did not hurt as much as before, but there was still an ache lingering behind his eyes that was just painful enough that he kept his eyes squinted for a while. He blinked a few times to see if it would go away, but nothing happened.

A soft coo sounded just below his chin.

It took Luke a moment to properly register the sound. He slowly sat up, bracing himself on his elbows so as to not dislodge the weight on his chest, and when he looked down he was surprised to see the Mand’alor’s child sitting on his chest.

The child let out another quiet coo, leaning forward to place his hand on Luke’s cheek. Luke blinked, startled by just how warm it was, but his attention was quickly stolen by the harsh whispers coming from the other side of the room.

“Kaysh ganar Jetii’kad!”

“Bid?” The Mand’alor had his back to Luke, but he was standing just far enough to the side that Luke could see the other mandalorian. “Ni ganar Jetii’kad.”

The woman he was speaking to wore armor of a rich blue, but her helmet was off and resting in the crook of her arm. Luke could see the intricate design she had painted on the face of it--something the other mandalorians he had seen lacked, and he briefly wondered if it was an identifier of some kind. Her hair—a bright shock of red—did little to hide her scowl. It twisted her face into something frightening, something that Luke was quick to look away from. “Bic cuyir nayc te adla.”

The Mand’alor stayed silent for a moment.

“Kaysh nayc partaylir kaysh gai, Bo-Katan.” His voice had lost his bite. It grew soft, and while it was not the exact tone he had used when he first spoke to Luke, it was something close. “Meg burun cuyir kaysh at mhi?”

That seemed to silence the woman.

Her scowl faded to a frown, softening her face enough to take away the harsh bite. While she took the time to look at the Mand’alor Luke took the time to study her a little more--the sharp lines of her jaw, the scars on her neck and cheeks--then quickly looked away as she spoke again.

“Kaysh cuyir gar buirkan.” she said. Whatever bite had been in her voice was gone, replaced with a near silent warning and resignation.

The Mand’alor dipped his head. “Vor entye.”

There was another moment of silence. Then the child cooed again and reached towards Luke’s hair, drawing both the attention of the Mand’alor and the woman and binging Luke’s own attention back to the child.

“Your guest is awake.” She said.

“I can see that,” The Mand’alor spoke blandly, and then he was hurrying over to Luke, scooping the child off his chest before he could take the handful of blond hair that he was reaching for. “No, ad’kia—I told you, we have to be careful. Ulyc.”

The child didn’t seem at all deterred. He let out a happy squeal as the Mand’alor picked him up, then grabbed a fistful of his cape and shoved it in his mouth.

Luke stared.

There was something about the sight that seemed odd to Luke, although there was nothing overly out of the ordinary about it. The Mand’alor settled the child into the crook of his arm, shifting his weight to one side of his body so that the child could keep a better hold on his cape. It was an easy move, a well practiced move--a move that a father would make, but there was something about it that Luke couldn’t shake.

Luke looked back down and blinked.

His head still ached.

“Did I faint?” He asked quietly. He didn’t remember falling back asleep. He didn’t even remember lying back down.

“You did.” The Mand’alor was gentle with his answer. “You weren't out for long—I think you just got overwhelmed.”

Luke nodded slowly.

“You're lucky to even be alive.” The woman cut in. Luke startled at her voice. It was much harsher than the Mand’alor’s had been and much more loud.

The Mand’alor abruptly turned his head to face her. “Bo-Katan—”

It took Luke a moment to realize that he wasn’t speaking in the strange language, but rather he was saying her name. His voice had lowered and grew hard in it’s tone. He was speaking her name as a warning—a warning that Bo-Katan heeded.

“We’ll speak more tonight.” She said this instead of continuing further, sparing a swift glance at Luke. He glanced up to meet her gaze. She narrowed her eyes, then easily broke her eye contact like she had never made it in the first place. She looked at the Mand’alor again and ducked her head, then spun on her heel and left the room.

They were left in a near silence, broken only by the sounds of the child chewing on the Mand’alor’s cape.

“It was bad, wasn’t it?” Luke asked quietly. He twisted his fingers into the fabric of the blanket, squeezing tightly before looking back up at the Mand’alor. “The crash?”

He hesitated before he nodded.

Luke gave himself a moment to let that information sink in.

“Can I see it?”

The Mand’alor jerked his head back up.

“It might help me remember something,” Luke pressed. It was not the only reason he wanted to go, but it was one of the reasons. He still didn’t remember anything, and there was a part of Luke that knew he wouldn't remember much of anything for a long time--not on his own, anyway.

The Mand’alor stayed silent, looking at Luke while the child continued to chew at his cape.

“You need to rest some more before I take you anywhere.” He finally said. “Bo-Katan was right, Luke. It’s a miracle you’re even alive.”

“But--”

“Why don’t you try drinking some water,” The Mand’alor offered it up like a compromise--like Luke was a child he was bargaining with--moving closer to Luke’s bed to take up residence in the abandoned stool. He set the child in his lap, then reached for a hydropack that was sitting on the nearby table. It was a new one--someone must have brought it while Luke had been out--and the Mand’alor poked a hole in it with a knife in a similar fashion to what the lady with the golden helmet had done. He held the pack out to Luke. “Then we’ll talk.”

Luke eyed the hydropack, then hesitantly reached for it.

--

Anakin could feel Padme before he saw her.

He looked up and away from the council doors--shut and locked and keeping him out--and saw her rushing down the hall, her dress swishing and fluttering around her heels and her hair escaping it’s careful styling and falling across her cheeks.

Anakin met her halfway.

“You promised me he would only go on scouting missions--” Padme was breathless, and as Anakin took her hands in his he could feel her fear and anger slam into him hard enough to make him stumble. “Anakin, you promised me--”

“It was a scouting mission,” Anakin cut her off gently. He squeezed her hands, could feel them shaking.

“Then how did he end up on Mandalore?” Padme’s voice cracked.

Anakin swallowed. “I--we don’t know.”

“So what? Now we wait for your council to decide if our son is worth saving?” Padme snapped out.

“Padme, there's nothing I can do,” Anakin’s chest hurt with each word that left his mouth, but that did not make them any less true. “My hands are tied.”

Padme opened her mouth, but no sound came out. Her whole body shook, and Anakin pulled her close to his chest and held her as tightly as he could. His shoulder grew wet with tears, and Anakin ducked his head down to press a soft kiss to the top of Padme’s head. It did not matter what the council ultimately decided--Anakin would not leave Luke alone on that planet. He would go to Mandalore himself if he had to.

“Have you told Leia?” Padme didn’t lift her head as she asked, but she clung tighter to Anakin’s robes like she was afraid of the answer.

Anakin shook his head. “No--she won’t answer my calls.”

He had a feeling that it was because Leia already knew.

Padme looked up then, but before she could speak the doors to the council room opened.

Only Yoda stepped out.

“Your majesty,” he tipped his head in greeting to Padme, then focused his attention back on Anakin. There was something about him that seemed uneasy. Almost uncertain. “A search party, we will send. Too important, the young prince’s life is, to leave to the fate of the Mand’alor.”

Anakin was sure he would have collapsed from the relief of Yoda’s words if he were not holding Padme.

“Warn you, I must,” Yoda continued. “Time it will take, to send out this party.”

“Why?” Padme asked it the same time Anakin asked “How long?”

Yoda looked between the two of them. His fingers tightened on his cane and his eyes grew somber. “The siege,” he said. “We cannot abandon.”

Chapter Text

It had taken Luke until the next day to be able to keep any water down, and it wasn’t until that night that he could nibble on some bread without gagging.

The bread the Mand’alor had given him was flat and round and a soft yellow in color. There were burnt bits, like it had been cooked over a fire, and when Luke hesitantly ripped off a piece and placed it in his mouth he nearly spit it back out. It was spicy--hot enough to stick to his teeth and linger in his throat.

The Mand’alor had laughed when Luke said so —a bright laugh that was genuine and real. It sounded rusty and unused and entirely startled out of him. It was a sound, Luke knew, that the Mand’alor hadn’t made in a long time.

Luke was completely enthralled with it.

“That,” he had said, pointing to the bread. “Is baby food.”

The child cooed in agreement, reaching for the bread, which Luke possessively pulled back.

Still, the next morning the Mand’alor brought him some fruit to eat along with the bread. They were berries, some a bloody red, others a deep violet. When Luke picked them up the juice stained his fingertips brilliant colors—colors that matched the reds and purples he had seen painted on the Mandalorian armor. They tasted sweet when he ate them and left a tartness on his tongue that he was reluctant to chase away with the water the Mand’alor had brought him. But he did, if only to make the Mand’alor happy.

The woman from before, Bo-Katan, kept visiting as well, although it was obvious she wasn’t there for Luke.

Her visits were always brief. She would speak in rapid fire Mando’a to the Mand’alor while he kept silent and listened, and then she would respectfully bow her head towards him and give Luke a weary look before she left.

Luke mustered up the courage to ask about it the day the Mand’alor brought him the berries.

“Bo-Katan is my ver’alor,” he answered easily. He was sitting in the stool that had been left by Luke’s bed, bouncing the child on his knee with a practiced ease. “My lieutenant,” he clarified at Luke’s head tilt.

Luke frowned.

He was missing something, he was sure. But he didn’t know what.

“You’re—you’re at war, right?” Luke asked slowly. It felt like the right answer--he knew that was the right answer. It wasn’t because he remembered, but being stuck in the medical buildings for the past few days had led Luke to putting the pieces together himself. He had seen far too many injured people coming in and out to not put the pieces together.

The Mand’alor nodded slowly.

“With who?”

The Mand’alor paused his movements. The child whined and reached up to smack his fathers helmet, and after a moment he resumed bouncing the child.

“The Jedi.” he finally answered.

Luke looked down at his hands, clasped together in his lap.

“And you think I’m a Jedi.” He said, then hesitantly looked back up.

Luke did not understand Mando’a, but Jetii sounded so similar to Jedi that Luke knew well enough what it was. The word has been thrown around between the Mand’alor and Bo-Katan often enough, and more of then that not Bo-Katan accompanied it with a glance and a scowl towards Luke.

“Bo-Katan thinks so.” The Mand’alor said. He was still bouncing the child on his knee. There was something about it that was calming.

“What do you think?” Luke asked.

“I think you’re just trying to remember who you are,” he replied.

Luke swallowed and looked back down at his hands.

The past few nights, when he had been left alone, he had tried to remember. He laid awake, staring out the window until the sun rose, trying to remember even the littlest things about himself. But the only thing he ever got was a insistent pushing against his mind, like someone was trying to get in, to see him and poke around inside his head. It frightened Luke, and eventually he just stopped.

“I want to see the ship.” Luke said.

—

It was almost embarrassing, having to walk with his arm looped with the Mand’alor’s, but Luke had been lying in bed for so long that his legs were weak and wobbly and could hardly support him.

The Mand’alor had fashioned his cape into a sling—a birikad, he had called it—for the child to sit in. It went around his chest and held the child securely against his beskar armor and left him at the perfect level to stare at Luke with his large eyes. He offered the child a small smile, and the child cooed and squealed in delight, then reached up to smack the Mand’alor’s helmet.

Luke bit the inside of his cheek to keep himself from laughing.

“Why does he do that?” Luke asked.

The Mand’alor glanced at Luke. “He wants me to take the helmet off.”

“Why don’t you?” Luke clutched the Mand’alor’s arm tighter as his leg wobbled and he stumbled. The Mand’alor paused so Luke could get his footing again, then stayed silent a little bit longer before he answered.

“It’s against my creed to remove my helmet in front of people who aren’t my clan,”

Luke pulled himself a little closer to the Mand’alor--close enough that their shoulders knocked together--lifting his other hand to gently place over the man's wrist. “Is it against your creed to tell me your name?”

The Mand’alor turned his head to look at him, and after a moment he looked away again.

“Din.”

Luke smiled.

The child babbled and cooed, lifting both hands this time to smack the Mand’alor’s--Din’s--helmet. Din spoke soft Mando’a, and the child cooed and gurgled and pointed back at Luke. Luke smiled a little wider, and then the child was looking at him and babbling.

“His name is Grogu,” Din said. “He wanted me to tell you that.”

“Hi, Grogu,” Luke said, turning to look at the child.

Grogu cooed in delight, and while Luke was lifting his hand to offer the child a wave, Din stopped walking. They were standing in front of a speeder, parked just on the edge of the city, where the grass and foliage turned to sand. Luke hadn’t realized they had walked this far.

“Hop on,” Din said.

Luke looked back up at Din, tilting his head.

Din glanced down at their looped arms. “I’m not going to make you walk, Luke.”

Luke felt his face warm, and he quickly untangled himself from Din and got into the back seat of the speeder. Still, when Din got in the front seat and kicked the throttle to get the speeder to rumble to life, Luke wrapped his arms around Din’s waist and pressed his forehead against Din’s back as the wind whipped sand and dust in his eyes.

They didn’t go very far--Din only drove for a half hour, at most, before he started to gently ease the speeder to a slower pace. Luke didn’t take his arms away from Din’s waist as he looked up, and he squeezed tighter at what he saw.

Pieces of the x-wing were scattered across the sands like a puzzle someone had thrown away, dented and chipped and scrapped of the shiny black paint. The only thing that looked like it had stayed intact was the cockpit, but even that was crushed and dented in such a way that it seemed nearly impossible for someone to crawl out of, even with the shattered windshield.

Din rolled the speeder to a full stop, but Luke clung tighter to him still.

“You pulled me out of that?” Luke asked quietly.

Din nodded.

Luke felt his head spin. He ducked back down, resting his forehead against Din’s back again. There was an ache building in the back of his eyes, and Luke squeezed them shut.

The pieces of the x-wing had to be scattered for miles.

“You had a lightsaber on you,” Din said quietly. “It was the only thing I could salvage.”

Luke took in a shaky breath.

--

Leia burst into the council chambers.

Her mother and father may be willing to wait for them to come up with a rescue plan, but she wasn’t.

Their talk stopped abruptly, heads swiveling to look at her as she marched to the center of the room. She looked at all of them in turn, lingering on Ahsoka for a moment before settling her gaze on Mace Windu.

“When are you going to look for my brother?” she asked.

Mace scowled, and ignored her question. “You cannot just barge in--”

“She has a point, Mace.” Ahsoka cut him off, her voice clipped. She was looking at Leia, her eyes full of sympathy and her own unspoken worry. “We’ve agreed to send a search party out for Luke, but it’s been days and we haven’t spoken of it since.” she then turned her gaze towards Mace. “Or did you lie to my master?”

“I did not lie to Skywalker,” Mace bit it out. “But this siege is far too important to abandon for one boy.”

“My brother is more important than your damn siege--”

“Just because you are Skywalker’s daughter, it does not give you the right--”

“Enough, this is!” Yoda cut both Mace and Leia off. He looked between the two of them, then settled on Leia. “Spoken with your brother, have you?”

Leia shook her head, took a step back. “I’ve tried, but every time I reach out through our bond he shuts me out.”

A surprised silence settled through the council.

“He shuts you out?” Ahsoka’s eyes were wide, and without even waiting for an answer she turned back to Yoda. “Leia is right--we can’t wait anymore.”

Yoda stayed silent.

“We cannot put Luke’s life above thousands of others,” Someone else spoke up. Leia couldn’t see who. “I understand that he was your padawan, Ahsoka, but--”

“Luke being my padawan has nothing to do with this--”

“Both Ahsoka and the princess are right, Karken.” Plo gently cut Ashoka off, sparing her a comforting look before looking to the Jedi who had spoken. Plo himself did not speak loudly, but his voice commanded the room nonetheless. “Naboo’s official stance in this war is one of neutrality. Leaving Prince Skywalker’s life in the hands of the Mand’alor would escalate things to a degree that we can not handle.” He paused, sparing a glance at Leia. “His rescue must be our priority.”

There was a tense moment of silence.

“And who knows,” Plo continued. “Perhaps we will find the missing Master Kenobi as well.”

Chapter Text

It was a longer trip back to the city than it was leaving it.

Din drove slower, taking his time as they rode over the sand hills so his voice could be heard over the sharp slap of the wind. He talked quietly and continuously about nothing and everything, letting Luke cling to his waist far too tightly for the speed they were going.

Din quietly told Luke that the city he had been staying in was Keldabe, the capital of Mandalore. The river that flowed around the outskirts of the city was named the Kelita, and Keldabe’s sister city, Sundari, lay on the other side of the riverbanks. Din spoke of his travels between the two cities, how he took the time to take the ferries across the river instead of just jetpacking his way there because Grogu liked to watch the fish as they swam after the boat.

He told Luke that although Keldabe’s markets were larger and more diverse, he liked going to Sundari’s night market more. It was smaller, the vendors and sellers were more friendly and kind, and the lights they strung up through the city walkways reminded him of stars. It was easier to find what you were looking for, Din said, and the vendors were always kind enough to set aside sweets for Grogu.

“It sounds nice,” Luke said quietly. His hold on Din had eased during the Mand’alor’s rambles, but he hadn’t let go.

“I could take you, if you wanted,” Din’s voice was nearly as quiet as Luke’s.

Luke felt a smile twitch at the corner of his lips. “I’d like that.”

It wasn’t until they were back in Keldabe that Din softly asked if Luke had remembered anything.

Luke shook his head, wincing as a sharp ache flared up in his temple. The doctors had warned Luke that he might have headaches for a while, both from the head trauma he had and the amnesia. The more he pressed himself to remember the more frequent his headaches would be, they had told him, but Luke had to try, which was why he had pressed Din so hard on seeing the crash.

Even though it had gotten him nothing.

Din did not make any further comments on the matter, and Luke watched as he lifted Grogu from the birikad and untied his cape, then nestled the child in the bend of his arm as the fabric fell neatly back around his shoulders.

He stayed silent for a while as he let Grogu settle himself, and then, “You’ll need a place to stay.”

Luke blinked.

He hadn’t even considered that--he had been so focused on trying to recall his memories that he hadn’t completely realized that until he did remember anything, he was stuck on Mandalore.

“I have a spare room,” Din continued. He looked back up at Luke, his head tilting slightly. “It’s not very big, but it’s better than a hospital bed.”

“You don’t have to do that—“ Luke argued anyway, even though he knew that he didn’t have very many options. He couldn't’ stay in the medical buildings, not when so many others needed the spare beds, and there were not many others who were as trusting of Luke as Din was. He could see it in the faces of those who didn’t wear their helmets, and he could see it in the stiff posture of those that did.

He was an outsider with no memory of where he came from.

Luke could hardly fault them for being weary.

“I want you to,” Din said. His voice grew a little firmer, but no less kind. “Stay with me.”

He reached for Luke’s hand, almost like he didn’t realize he was doing it.

Din pulled his hand back at the last second, but Luke reached forward and took it and offered Din a soft smile before he could think any better of it. His hand was bigger than Luke’s, warm and comforting. “Well, if you want me to.”

Din gently squeezed Luke’s hand. “I do.”

They fell into a gentle silence, broken only by Grogu’s quiet babbles.

Luke had to tilt his head up to properly look at Din, standing this close.

“I’m not interrupting anything, am I?”

Luke jumped, nearly ripping his hand out of Din’s as he stepped back. Din’s own head jerked up in surprise, fixing his gaze just over Luke’s shoulder, and Grogu let out a happy little coo. Luke turned to see who Din was looking at, not entirely surprised to see Bo-Katan standing behind him.

Din cleared his throat. “Is something wrong?”

Bo-Katan stayed silent for a moment. She was looking at Luke with an expression he couldn’t read, and when she finally did speak she didn’t take her eyes off him. “Cara called. She’s seen an increase of Jedi ships in Nevarro’s sector. She wanted to make you aware.”

Din nodded. “I'll give her a call, then.”

Bo-Katan spared a quick glance and a nod at Din, then looked back to Luke.

“I see our little Jetii is up and walking.” she said. She narrowed her eyes, looking over Luke before going back to Din. “What are you going to do with him?”

“He’s going to stay with me,” Din answered easily. Grogu squealed in delight, throwing his arms up and babbling incoherently.

Bo-Katan’s eyes snapped back to Luke, and Luke found himself taking a step back.

“Are you sure that’s wise?”

Din bit out a sight. “Bo-Katan, udesii.”

“Kaysh cuyir aru’e.” Bo-Katan snapped out. “Ni nayc baatir meh kaysh ures tome’tayl.”

Din gently pushed Luke behind him as he stepped forward, but before Din could get a word out Luke was reaching for Din’s hand again, gently pulling him back. Din went easily, turning to look at Luke.

“Look, if it’s too much trouble--” Luke started, but Din was quick to cut him off.

“It’s not.” he said. Then he looked back to Bo-Katan. “Gar ru’kir kar’taylir tion’tuur at jorhaa’ir, ver’alor, bal tion’tuur nayc at.”

Bo-Katan stiffened, then offered a jerky nod to Din. She did not say anything, although she looked like she desperately wanted to. She looked down at their hands and narrowed her eyes, then spun on her heel and marched off.

Luke swallowed as he watched her go, then looked back up at Din. “If it’s really that much trouble--”

“It’s not,” Din repeated. He squeezed Luke’s hand and took a step closer. “Bo-Katan is just cautious, that’s all.”

Luke looked down at their hands. Din’s nearly covered Luke’s as he held it, the hard metal and worn gloves a striking contrast against Luke’s own bare skin. Luke’s hands were worn, full of calluses and cuts and scrapes. Some of his fingers were still bandaged from the injuries he sustained in the crash, and bruises still bloomed on his wrists, peeking out from underneath the long sleeves Luke wore.

“She thinks I’m going to hurt you.” Luke said.

“She thinks everyone is going to hurt me,” Din easily replied. His thumb slowly ghosted along Luke’s wrist, tracing the outline of the bruises. “Are you going to hurt me?”

“I don’t think I could even if I wanted to,” Luke couldn’t get himself to look away from Din’s hand. “You seem pretty capable of defending yourself.”

He looked up then, glanced at the spear strapped to his back and the saber hilt hanging from his waist, and offered Din a smile.

“Then we have nothing to worry about,” Din drew his hand back just as slowly, keeping hold of Luke’s hand until the last possible moment.

Luke bit back a shiver that raced up his spine.

“Why don’t we go to Sundari tonight,” Din continued. He looked down to Grogu as the child cooed in excitement at the mention of the city, placing his arm underneath the one that was already supporting Grogu. “We can get you any supplies you need.”

“I don’t have any money,” Luke said.

“And I have plenty of it that I don’t need.” Din replied.

Luke wanted to argue, but he knew he wouldn’t win.

--

“You seem awfully infatuated with him.”

Din didn’t turn to look at Koska as she settled next to him. His eyes were firmly locked on Luke, who was standing near the rails of the ferry with Grogu tucked securely against his chest and watching the fish race buy with just as much wonder and excitement as Grogu.

“Did Bo-Katan tell you to lecture me?”

Koska hummed. “She may have mentioned it.”

Din turned to look at her then.

He knew she would have followed them to Sundari. The Clan leaders had wanted at least one of the royal guard members with Din at all times, arguing that his life was far too important to be left to chance in times like these. Din had not liked it, but he couldn’t argue with that logic. If he were to die, there would be no one in his Clan who could take the throne. The resulting madness and squabbles over the darksaber would lead to far more bloodshed than this war they were in now.

“Is it because the Clan leaders are pushing you to marry?” Koska looked at him, tilting her head. “I like your spunk, but marrying an aruetii will probably make it worse.”

“No. It’s not that.” Din looked back at Luke. He was pointing to one of the fish and talking quietly with Grogu, and his child squealed in delight and clapped his hands. “There's just...something about him.”

“You’ve hardly known him a week.”

Din frowned, and didn’t answer.

Koska sighed. “It’s not that I don’t trust your judgment, but--” Koska paused, weighing her words before she spoke. “You can’t just ignore that we found him with a Jedi weapon.”

“I’m not,” Din looked at Koska. She was looking back at Luke, studying him carefully. “Koska, he didn’t even know he had one until I mentioned it.”

Koska slowly looked back at him. “Memories come back, Mand’alor.”

Din hated it when she pulled the Mand’alor card.

“And I’ll deal with them when they do,” he said. He spared another glance at Luke and his son--Grogu had worked his way up onto Luke’s shoulders, and he was holding tiny fistfuls of blond hair as he peered into the water. “But right now he’s just scared and confused--I’m not going to make that worse by pressuring him to remember things.”

“You took him to the x-wing,” Koska countered.

“Because he asked me to,” Din replied. “And it led to nothing.”

Koska looked at him for a while, her expression entirely unreadable.

“You’ve never been one to make rash decisions.” she finally said.

“And I’m not making one now.”

Koska stayed silent for a moment, then looked back at Luke. “For our sake, I hope not.” She shook her head and looked back to Din. “At least get him some clothes. He can’t keep wearing those ratty things forever, especially if he’s going to be seen with the Mand’alor.”

Those ratty things were black pants, a black long sleeve undershirt, and what looked like riding boots. Din thought that Luke wore them well, but Koska was right. He needed new clothes.

So when the ferry docked and Koska slipped away, that was the first place he took Luke.

Luke gravitated towards the darker colors, running his hands along the fabrics and shying away from the rougher and thicker ones and more towards the imported silks and linens. He had expensive taste, it seemed, but it wasn’t too long before Luke had wandered off to one of the sweets vendors, far too distracted by the lights and trinkets to actually look at the practical things he needed.

When Din caught up to him the woman running the stand not so discreetly passed a cookie to Grogu, who happily shoved the entire thing in his mouth.

Luke was staring at a bowl of a blue custard.

“I--” Luke started, tilting his head as he looked a little harder. Then he looked up at Din. “That’s blue milk custard,” he said. Then, in a softer tone, “I love blue milk custard.”

Din didn’t even think twice before he passed a few coins to the woman.

Chapter Text

“I don’t think the Jedi ships have anything to do with you, honestly,” Cara was saying. She was lounging back on her desk on Nevarro, feet kicked up and hands cradling what looked like a cup of tea. She had been into it lately, despite telling Din she hated drinking that bantha shit flavor water. “Word on the street is that the Naboonian prince has gone missing. Queen Amidala is all in a panic about it, apparently. Probably just pulled a few strings to get the Jedi to look for him while things are quiet.”

Din hummed.

He didn’t know much about Naboo, to be honest. He knew that the queen had announced neutrality in the war, but that was about all he knew. Din had never really cared to get involved with the political issues outside of the Outer Rim, and those inside the rim never bothered to get involved with them. Galactic Republic and preaching about unity be damned.

“I doubt it’s your new friend,” Cara continued, easily catching Din’s next thought before he could even think of it. She paused to take a sip of her tea before continuing. Din was surprised that she didn’t grimace at the taste. “She doesn’t let her kids out of her sight, let alone in an x-wing.”

“Overprotective?” Din asked.

“A bit,” Cara smiled, but it fell almost as quickly. “She had a tough time with the pregnancy—almost lost the twins a couple times, so I can’t really blame her.”

No, Din didn’t think he could either.

He was bad enough with Grogu.

“I’ll keep you updated just in case,” Cara smiled again. It was brighter, more mischievous. “Maybe I’ll come visit while I’m at it.”

Din frowned and bit his cheek. “Don’t scare him off, Cara.”

“Who said I was coming to see your new boy toy?”

Din learned closer to the holoscreen, opened his mouth to deny it and chide Cara and tell her to not scare Bo-Katan off because he actually needed her around, but she ended the call before he could, and Din was alone in the throne room. Not entirely alone—Paz was back in the corner, having been relegated to guard duty for the next few days after Bo-Katan had to pull Koska to go to Concordia. He was doing a rather terrible job of stifling his laughter.

Din ignored it with a heavy sigh.

Luke was back at the house with Grogu, still asleep when Din had left.

Satine had warned Din about it when he had first called her to get her input on Luke’s condition—she told him that Luke would probably be sleeping a lot these next couple weeks. The strain of the crash and the physical injury on his head was hard enough, but amnesia took its own special toll on the body.

“There’s always going to be a part of him that’s trying to remember things,” Satine had said. “He’s going to be tired and he’s going to exhaust himself far more quickly, but if you keep him fed and hydrated it’ll help take some of the strain off his body.”

Then she had to hang up, because Korkie had decided that now was a perfect time to take her jetpack and see if he could fly it.

There was always going to be a part of Din that regretted agreeing to let her move to Tatooine. She had been a good general and an even better healer, but this war had been hard on her. She bared more scars than most of them. Satine deserved to live in peace with her husband and son, after all she had fought through to get them.

And Fett was stationed on Tatooine, so it wasn’t like Din had sent her off alone.

He bit back another sigh, then stood from the throne.

—

It took Luke a moment to realize where he was when he woke.

He had shot up, heart racing and chest heaving from a nightmare he didn’t remember. He looked wildly around the room, not really seeing it, his hands clutching the blankets and sheets tightly enough for his knuckles to go white. Then he remembered the night market, eating blue milk custard, watching the stars light up the sky, walking along the riverbanks with only the moonlight to see by, going back to Din’s quaint little house, wishing the Mand’alor a soft goodnight—

Luke flinched back as the doorknob to the room twisted open with a loud click.

And then there was Grogu, ears drooped and cooing softly in worry. He tottled into the room, nearly stumbling in his hurry to get to Luke.

Luke was quick to swoop down to help the child up into the bed.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you,” Luke murmured. Grogu sat in his lap, tilting his head and dropping his ears and cooing softly. He reached his hands up, and Luke obligingly ducked his head down so the child could easily reach him. “I just had a bad dream, that’s all.”

Grogu babbled something, then gently butted his head against Luke’s. The child pushed feelings of warmth and comfort and safety towards Luke, and this time the gentle press against his mind didn’t frighten him. It was not as insistent as the others--this was just a prodding, an offer of comfort that Luke could take if he wanted.

Luke took in a shaky breath, and when he pulled back and looked up, Din was standing in the doorway.

The Mand’alor was looking at him with a tilted head. When he noticed Luke looking he straightened and took a small step into the room. “Are you okay?”

Luke nodded. “Just--bad dreams.”

Din didn’t ask. He just nodded slowly and stepped further into the room, waiting for Luke to give him a smile before he sat on the edge of the bed.

He didn’t get the chance to speak, not before another mandalorian was rapping his fist against the doorframe and waltzing into the room without waiting for an invitation.

“You need to stop running off on me, kriff--” Luke didn’t know this mandalorian--he was big, his armor far more decked out than Din’s. “Do you want Miss Prissy to take my head off? Is your new boyfriend more important than my head?”

Luke’s cheeks warmed.

“I told you where I was going, Paz--” Din started, but the other mandalorian continued on.

“You need to get your butt back to the throne room before Bo-Katan comes and drags you back. The Clan leaders want to talk to you and she’s not willing to fend them off anymore.”

“Talk to me about what?” Din sounded genuinely confused.

Paz tilted his head and looked at Luke. “Him.”

Din stayed silent for a moment, then bit out a few harsh words in Mando’a.

“Uh huh, curse all you want Din, it’s not gonna change anything.” Paz stepped forward and hauled Din back to his feet. “You can stare at pretty boy later.” Paz offered Luke a pleasant goodbye, and then he was pushing Din out of the room.

Luke watched them go, his cheeks still warm and tingling, then looked down at Grogu.

“I hope I didn’t get your dad in trouble,” he mumbled.

Grogu cooed.

--

The Armorer stood by the throne when Din entered, holding Din’s spear and standing tall. Her gaze followed him as he crossed the room. Bo-Katan stood on the other side of the throne, arms behind her back.

“I hope there is a good reason why I was pulled from my forge,” she said as Din sat. Paz continued on to stand beside Bo-Katan.

“Yeah,” Din said. “Me too.”

He turned to look at the Clan leaders, silently asking them the unspoken question. They were all kneeling below the throne, heads bowed. In a formal meeting like this, they were not allowed to speak until Din gave them permission. A few moments later a holoscreen lit up, and when both Satine and Boba appeared, Din felt his heart drop.

Maybe Koska had been right. Maybe he was letting his fondness for Luke cloud his judgment.

“There better be a damn good reason for this, Djarin,” Boba was frowning. He liked to stay out of Mandalore politics as much as Satine did, despite his standing as the Fett Clan leader.

“Let the leaders voice their concerns,” Satine said gently. “It is their right.”

Boba sighed.

Din stayed silent for a moment, then nodded at the Armorer. She lowered the spear, hitting the end against the floor three times. She let the ringing sounds fade before speaking. “The Mand’alor will now let you speak.”

“Mand’alor,” Ursa spoke first, lifting her head to glance at the Clan leaders before settling her gaze on Din. “We do not all share the same thoughts, but some have raised concerns about the boy you’ve taken in.”

“What are your concerns?” Din asked, already knowing the answer.

“We are at war with the Jedi, and the boy we are sheltering seems to be a Jedi. Some worry that he may have ulterior motives outside of his initial...crash landing.” Ursa said. She looked almost apologetic as she spoke.

“Do you share these concerns?”

Ursa shook her head. “I have always trusted your judgment, Mand’alor. That has not changed.”

Din nodded slowly, then turned to look at the rest of the Clan leaders. “I have already discussed this with Bo-Katan and my generals. Luke is harmless. I see no reason to continue this.”

“What of the saber?” someone asked.

“The weapon is being safely kept in my forge,” The Armorer spoke up. “The boy knows not where it is, nor has he asked after it.” She paused for a moment before continuing. “Our Mand’alor is right. This discussion is meaningless. The boy is already under our care and will remain so until he chooses to leave Mandalore or to stay, as is the Way, is it not?”

There was a moment of silence before Ryn spoke up. “You speak of him as if he were a foundling, my Lady.”

“Foundlings come in all shapes, Ryn.” Satine said. Her voice was soft and distorted by the holoscreen, but it was no less commanding. “They do not always need to be officially considered foundlings. Or have you forgotten my husband?”

Ryn snapped his mouth shut.

“I see no reason to continue squabbling among yourselves like children.” The Armorer continued after giving a brief nod to Satine. “You all agree that the boy is in our care and under the Mand’alor’s protection, and so you will treat him with the respect you give to Clan Djarin, as is the boy’s right.”

A chorus of yes, my Lady sounded from the Clan leaders.

The Armorer stared them down. “Now, perhaps you will discuss more pressing matters?”

Another round of yes, my Lady, but this was much quieter.

The Armorer remained silent for a moment, then she hit the end of the spear against the floor again. The ringing sound was louder, but she stifled the echo of it. “Then this meeting has come to an end.”

The Clan leaders were quick to leave, not wanting to be under the scrutiny of the Armorer’s irritation and anger for longer than they had to. It wasn’t until they had all left and Boba and Satine had ended the holocall that she put the spear back in it’s stand, where it stood tall and proud.

“And how is the boy doing?” she asked.

“He’s--adjusting,” Din answered. Then, “Grogu likes him.”

Din could see Bo-Katan roll her eyes.

“I see.” The Armorer fixed him with a look. “Can I expect the Clan leaders to stop pushing potential spouses onto me, then?”

Din sighed. “I told them to stop doing that.”

“Yeah, well,” Paz tilted his head to look at Din. “They’re pretty desperate to get you married.”

The Armorer was the closest thing Din had to a mother--she was his mother, as far as he was concerned. While it was not required, it was wise to seek her approval before Din married anyone, and with the Clan leader’s newest bid to get Din married off, that was exactly what they were doing. Some were in it to tie their Clan to that of the Mand’alor’s for a better standing among the Clan leaders, and others wanted to see Din with more children so his family line could continue and keep its hold on the throne.

Din sighed again.

“Just marry the Jetii and get it over with,” Bo-Katan sounded more resigned than anything else. “Since you're so kriffing fond of him.”

Din looked up at her. “I’m not going to marry Luke.”

Bo-Katan arched an eyebrow.

“Famous last words,” Paz chimed in.

--

It had grown dark by the time Din came back.

Even if he wanted to, Luke didn’t know the city well enough to leave the house, so he had stayed inside with Grogu, doing his best to tire the child out so he would sleep easy. Luke had just gotten him down for the night when Din came into the nursery.

“I’m sorry,” he spoke softly, coming to stand by Luke to watch Grogu sleep. “I didn’t mean to leave you alone all day.”

“It wasn’t like you could help it,” Luke answered back just as softly. He leaned closer to Din, bumping his shoulder against his. But instead of pulling back, Luke stayed. “Can I stay?”

Din looked at him and tilted his head. “Why wouldn’t you stay?”

Luke shrugged and looked back at Grogu. “The way that other mandalorian made it sound--” he trailed off.

Din slowly lifted his hand. He tucked a few strands of hair behind Luke’s ear, then, as if he just realized what he had done, sharply pulled his hand back. “Some Clan leaders are concerned about your reason for coming to Mandalore. Some think you might be a Jedi, and others are worried that the Jedi sent you. But there's not much we can do. You don’t remember, and no one is going to force you to remember.”

Luke nodded. It made sense, even if he couldn’t ever imagine himself hurting these people.

“Can I ask--” Luke started, then paused. “How did the war start?”

Din glanced down at Grogu. Something in his posture changed--it became stiff. Protective.

“It was a long time ago,” Din said. “Mand’alor the Sorrowful ruled then. She had a child--a daughter. Deanna. She was born with the powers of the Jedi.”

Something about the start of the story seemed familiar, but Luke stayed silent and let Din continue.

“The Jedi found out about her. Mandalore was weary of the Jedi then, but we were still on good enough terms that Mand’alor the Sorrowful let them onto the planet in good faith. They wanted to take Deanna and train her, but the Mand’alor wouldn’t hear of it. She told them to leave, threatened them with war if they came back.” Din paused and took in a shaky breath. Luke reached down and took Din’s hand. “The Jedi took Deanna anyway, and the Mand’alor kept her promise.”

Din paused again, squeezed Luke’s hand.

“That’s how she got her name.” Din said. “The Sorrowful.”

Luke swallowed something bitter. “That’s horrible.”

“Grogu’s like that, too,” Din’s voice was so quiet that Luke nearly didn't hear it. “He--he can do things that I don’t understand and I’m afraid--I’m afraid that the Jedi will take him too.”

Luke’s heart clenched tightly in his chest. He pulled his hand back, and when Din turned to look at him Luke stepped forward and wrapped his arms around Din’s waist and hugged him tightly, pressed their bodies together until he couldn’t tell where Din started and he ended.

“They won’t.” Luke said.

“You don’t know that,” Din’s voice sounded dangerously close to cracking.

“They won't,” Luke repeated. He was certain of it, although he did not know why.

Din did not reply, but he did lift his hands and held Luke and pulled him closer. It was a while before either let go.

Chapter Text

Luke liked the hustle and bustle of Keldabe.

There was something achingly familiar about it--about waking with the sun, the constant noise of of people going about their lives, the sweet scent of wildlife and the sharp tang of fire smoke and gasoline mingling together--and while Din grumbled as they dipped and weaved their way through the busy streets, Luke did it all with a smile. Din had Grogu in the same makeshift birikad he had made when they first ventured into the city, but this time he was holding Luke’s hand as they walked through the streets.

Din had said something about not wanting to lose Luke, but he needn’t have worried, it seemed.

“I think I'm from a big city,” Luke told him once they found someplace to sit. They were outside a little sweets shop, sitting at one of the tables in Keldabe’s main plaza. “This is—it feels familiar.”

Grogu was munching on some blue cookies the shop owner had slipped him while Luke nursed a cup of caf.

It had been about two weeks that Luke had been on Mandalore, and his headaches, while not getting any worse, had not gotten any better either. Din had talked to one of the healers, a woman named Satine, about it. She had only been able to offer quiet apologies to Luke. It was a result of the head trauma—both physical and mental—that he had gotten from the crash. His injuries may have healed, she told him, but the scars remained. He could take pain dampeners, but they could only do so much. So Luke had gone back to the age all cure that he knew would work. A strong cup of caf.

It didn’t take away his headaches completely, but it bit them back enough to be manageable.

Luke’s nightmares, however, seemed endless.

Every time he woke Luke was fighting back panic and fear from a dream he did not remember, his stomach rolling and churning so badly from the fear he felt that Luke thought he would throw up. He never said anything about it to Din, never mentioned it when he stumbled from the bedroom with still shaky hands, but Luke knew that Din knew.

But Din never said anything either.

He only offered Luke a quiet good morning and a cup of caf and a comforting presence at the kitchen table.

Din hummed softly, accepting the cookie Grogu shoved into his helmet with a quiet thank you.

Luke watched, entirely fascinated, as Din lifted his helmet up just enough to take a bite of the cookie. He could see Din grimace as the sugary treat hit his tongue, but he still swallowed the bite that was in his mouth before giving the cooking back to Grogu.

“The movements of it feel familiar, anyway,” Luke continued. He cleared his throat and looked back down at the table. “It’s—I’ve done it before, I think.”

Luke swallowed and took a sip of his caf.

His mouth was dry, and while he wanted to blame it on Mandalore’s heat and humidity, he knew that wasn’t it.

This was a new thing, Din lifting his helmet around Luke.

“You do seem to be navigating Keldabe well,” Din offered. Luke hadn’t been out in the city much—only venturing to the nearby markets with Grogu when Luke couldn’t stay cooped up in the house anymore. He always kept Din’s little home in sight. This was the first time Din was able to get enough time away from his duties to actually show Luke around. The first time Luke couldn't see the house. It was exciting. “Just—don’t try and force anything, okay?”

Luke nodded and smiled. “I won’t, I promise.”

His headaches got worse the more he tried to remember things.

Grogu cooed and offered Luke the same cookie Din had taken a bite from.

“Oh, thank you—“ Luke hesitantly took it, staring at it for a moment before biting the side of the cookie that Din hadn’t. It was very sweet. Luke could see why Din didn’t like it.

Grogu babbled happily and shoved another cookie in his mouth while Luke took a sip of caf to wash down the taste.

The caf was bitter, almost awfully so, but there was just enough sweetness in it to make it bearable. It was similar to the berries that Din brought Luke when he was still in the medical buildings--the caf had that same tangy sweetness that lingered on Luke’s tongue and stuck to his teeth.

Luke took another bite of the cookie, chewing it slowly while Din fussed over Grogu and brushed the crumbs from the corners of his mouth.

It was strange, just how fond Luke had grown of the two of them for how short of a time he had been with Din and Grogu, how well he fit into their little family.

Luke liked how well he fit.

And then just as suddenly as the thought had come and gone, Luke was jerking back as a sharp pain stabbed him just at the base of his skull. He hissed and pushed his palm to his forehead and squeezed his eyes shut. His vision blurred and stars still danced across his eyes even when he closed them. Luke could feel warm hands on his shoulders as he started to sway and lean, keeping him upright and steady.

“Luke? What’s--”

“Mand’alor!”

Luke winced at the voice. It was loud--far, far too loud. He opened his eyes just enough to see a mandalorian in blue armor rushing towards them, but the whole world tilted on its axis so Luke closed them again and fought back a rising nausea.

Din squeezed Luke’s shoulders.

“Sir, there’s been an attack on Tatooine.” the mandalorian said.

And just as suddenly as it had started it stopped, and all Luke was left with was a sinking pit in his stomach.

--

The woman with the golden helmet was waiting in the throne room when they arrived.

“What happened?” Din asked. He had passed Grogu to Luke, marched towards her with a franticness to his step that Luke hadn’t seen before. The mandalorian in the blue armor--Axe, Luke learned he was called--followed after Din, leaving Luke and Grogu to awkwardly hover by the doorway. “I thought the Jedi didn’t know we were on Tatooine.”

“They do now, apparently. It was an ambush,” the woman said. “We were caught off guard.”

Din stayed silent for a moment, then, “How many did we lose?”

“None, yet. Fett is preparing ships to bring the more seriously injured back to Mandalore. The healers have been told what’s going on.” the woman looked at Din, and Luke watched as she lifted a hand to cradle the back of Din’s neck. And then she gently bumped their foreheads together. “I can see your guilt, ad’ika. This was not your fault.”

“If I had been there--”

“Then you might be dead.” Axe cut in. He stepped closer to Din, jabbed a finger in his chest. “We need you here, Din. You know that.”

They stared at each other.

“The Armorer is right. This wasn’t your fault. The Jedi have been quiet for months now--no one expected this.” Axe’s voice had gotten softer as he spoke this time. “So don’t go pulling the martyr card right now. You need to be strong for your people--you need to be here, and let us figure out what the hell happened.”

Din looked down at the floor, his chest shaking as he took in a deep breath.

Grogu cooed softly in Luke’s arms, looking up at him with drooped ears and wide eyes.

The door to the room cracked open. Luke jumped, hurrying to get out of the way as Bo-Katan came storming in. She looked frantic, worry bleeding off of her like a freshly opened wound. It made Luke feel sick.

“Where is my sister?”

“Lady Satine is alright,” The Armorer was quick to calm Bo-Katan, stepped away from Din so she could place a hand on Bo-Katan’s shoulder and gently steer her away. “She is staying behind on Tatooine to stabilize some of the more seriously injured before they are transported back here.”

Bo-Katan eased just a little, but it was not enough to pacify her.

“What about Korkie? And Ben?” she pressed

“Both are safe. They’ll be coming back to Mandalore with your sister as soon as they’re able.” The Armorer glanced at Luke for a moment before looking back to Bo-Katan. “There are many who are injured--we need to focus on that right now.”

There was a moment of silence.

“Get Fett on a holocall,” Bo-Katan snapped out. “Now.”

Axe nodded. He must have had a holoprojector in his gauntlet, because a moment later Luke was looking at the hazy projection of another mandalorian. He had his helmet off, and he looked tired and weary and angry. Furious.

“Before you even ask, princess, no, I don’t know what happened.” he bit it out, shooting a scowl and a glare at Bo-Katan before turning to Din. “You’ll have to wait for a more detailed report, I’m afraid. I don’t know if the jetiise are still close, and I’d rather not have them hacking our com frequency on the same day.”

Din nodded. “Send us a ping when you're close.”

Fett nodded, then ended the call.

Grogu whined softly, and then suddenly Din was there, leaning his head down to bump his forehead with Grogu’s before taking Luke’s face in his hands.

“Are you alright?” Din held Luke gently, like he was a fragile thing, looking him over for injury.

“I think I should be asking you that,” Luke’s voice cracked.

Din didn’t say anything. He just held him, and then he gently pressed his forehead to Luke’s, holding himself still for a moment before sharply pulling back. But he did not look away. “I need you two to go to the docking port and wait for Fett--send him here as soon as he lands.”

Both Bo-Katan and Axe nodded, then hurried out of the room.

“Are you sure you’re alright?” Din asked softly.

Luke swallowed. Nodded. “It was just a headache.” Then Luke reached up and placed his hands on the side of Din’s helmet and gently pressed his forehead against Din’s. The beskar was cool against his skin, stealing away the minor ache that had been left behind. “I’m okay, Din. I promise.”

Din’s breath stuttered in his chest. “Luke--”

Din didn’t finish. He felt silent, and didn’t pull back until Luke let go.

Chapter Text

It was late by the time Boba was able to make it back to Mandalore.

By then Din had already made his rounds through the medical buildings, speaking softly to those who had been on the Tatooine base and were still alive and offering condolences and mourning rights to the families of those who did not survive. He spoke with Satine in the few moments of rest that she had between tending to the injured, although she was just as lost as everyone else on what had happened. Din went back to the throne room and quietly extinguished the lanterns, dimming Mandalore’s light as they mourned.

There would be more, Din knew, who would not survive the night, and with a heavy heart he went back to his home. To Luke and Grogu.

Din had sent them back home when he went to the medical buildings, not wanting either of them to see that much pain and suffering.

They were both asleep in Luke’s bed when Din returned. Not wanting to disturb them and knowing he wouldn’t be able to sleep, he went to the kitchen and sent a message to Bo-Katan to redirect Boba to the house.

Din waited in silence, and when Boba quietly slipped through the door Din offered him a shot of booze in silence. They sat at the table and removed their helmets, murmured words of sorrow in Mando’a, then knocked back the alcohol like it was water.

Din set his glass back on the table while Boba held onto his.

“They were looking for someone.” Boba finally said.

Din poured himself some more booze. “Ben?”

“No.” Boba shook his head, and Din looked up in surprise.

There were not many who knew about Ben’s past in its totality. Din himself only knew bits and pieces--he knew that Ben had been a Jedi, met Satine on the battlefield long before Din took the throne. He didn’t know what had happened between the two and he wasn’t going to ask, but whatever it was had made Ben abandon the only life he ever knew. For her. And that was all Din cared to know.

“They said something about a prince,” Boba continued. He knocked back the rest of his own drink, taking the bottle from Din so he could fill his glass.

Din hummed. “Cara said something the other day--Naboo’s prince is missing. You think that’s who they’re looking for?””

Boba scoffed. “Don’t know what the fuck a Naboo royal would be doing on Tatooine. They wouldn’t leave the Inner Rim if their lives depended on it.”

Din didn’t reply.

He took another shot, relishing in the way it burned the back of his throat.

“Ben warned me. Just before they attacked.” Boba waited to speak until Din had swallowed the alcohol.

“He knew?”

“No. He fought with me for a bit before I told him to take his kid and go with Satine.” Boba shook his head, then let out a heavy sigh. “You know how he is, Din. His feelings and visions--I just got smart enough to trust them.” Boba fell silent again, and then, “How many did we lose?”

Din took another shot, handed the bottle back to Boba before he answered. He didn’t bother to pour it into the glass this time. “Nine--died before they could get here. There are a handful of others that Satine isn’t sure are going to survive the night.”

They didn’t speak for a while after that. They settled into a heavy silence, and if Din listened closely enough, he could hear Grogu’s quiet snores and Luke tossing and turning and mumbling words in a language Din didn’t understand. He sounded scared, but no matter how much Din wanted to rush in and comfort Luke, he stayed sitting. There was not much he could offer, not when Luke couldn’t even remember what he was so frightened of.

“If the jettise really are looking for Naboo’s prince, this is going to turn into even more of a shit show than it already is, you know that, right?” Boba asked. “That means Naboo broke it’s neutrality, and this war is going to turn into a galactic free for all.”

Din didn’t say anything.

Boba let out another sigh. “Din--this has to stop. I’m tired of this--”

“And you think I’m not?” Din snapped out. His voice had risen, and while he knew there was a danger in waking Luke and Grogu, he found it hard to care. “Do you think I like sending my people out to die when I can’t be there to protect them?”

“That’s not what I meant--”

“You’re not the only one who wants a quiet life, Boba.” as soon as Din said it he lost whatever anger had boiled up in him in the first place. Boba wasn’t at fault for any of this. It wasn’t fair for Din to take it out on him. “Sorry.”

“What for? You’re right. I’m not the only one who wants a quiet life.” Boba pushed the bottle a little closer to Din.

Din eyed it, but left it untouched.

Boba stayed quiet for a moment before he spoke again. “Din, if he makes you happy, let him make you happy. You might not be able to run off to Tatooine like the rest of us, but you can still have a life with someone.”

“It’s different with me--”

“No. It’s not.” Boba cut him off. “The Clan leaders are trying to marry you off, for kriffs sake. Might as well stick it to ‘em and do it on your own terms—and don’t give me that I hardly know him bantha shit,” Boba leaned a little further across the table. “Life is too short for that.”

Din looked down at his glass.

—

Ben Kryze came to Din’s doorstep the next morning, looking exhausted and far too guilty as he held Korkie close against his chest--like his son would disappear if he let go. The little boy was still half asleep, blinking slowly up at Din as he clung to the pieces of fabric around his fathers armor.

“This wasn’t your fault,” Din said, automatic, as he held the door open further for the two of them to come in. He noticed that Ben had his saber hanging from his waist--a weapon that Din had not seen Ben use since he first taught Din how to properly wield his own.

“Nor was it yours,” Ben answered. “But that doesn’t stop us from feeling guilt, does it?”

Din didn’t answer, and Ben didn’t push him for one.

He led them into the kitchen and busied himself with getting a glass of juice for Korkie and a cup of caf for Ben. After a moment of hesitation Din poured one for Luke as well, knowing that he would be up and stumbling into the kitchen soon. Luke rose with the sun and set with the moon, it seemed.

Din set the cup of caf in front of Ben and gently handed the glass of juice to Korkie, who mumbled a sleepy thanks and immediately drank about half of the glass.

“How’s Satine?” He asked.

“Tired. Exhausted,” Ben picked up the cup of caf and cradled it in his hands. “The healers sent her back to the house just before I came here. She fell asleep as soon as her head hit the pillow.” Ben paused, glancing at Korkie. They were staying with Bo-Katan, for now. “...she lost three more last night.”

Din took in a deep breath, held it, then let it out.

“It would have been a lot more if you hadn’t warned Boba,” Din said quietly.

Any loss of life was painful, but Din had to thank the stars that it hadn’t been more.

Ben didn’t answer, just kept looking at Korkie. The little boy was looking a little more awake now, but not by much. Din wondered if he had stayed awake with his father last night--knowing full well that Ben had been just as restless as him--waiting for his mother to come home. Korkie was too young to really understand everything that had just happened outside of them having to leave home so suddenly. He was only five, still too scared to be away from his parents for any longer than necessary.

“They came into the house,” Ben finally said. He reached a hand across the table, gently brushing some of Korkie’s hair out of his face. The boy didn’t put up a fuss. “Two of them.”

Din felt his heart jump to the throat. “Did they—?”

“No. They didn’t know me, and I didn’t know them.” It took a moment for Ben to draw his hand back and look at Din again. “They were young. Asking about prince Amidala—“ Ben’s fingers curled tighter around the cup. “—apparently, he’s General Skywalker’s son.”

Din’s heart fell back to his stomach so quickly that he thought he might throw up. “General Skywalker has a son?”

“It would seem so,” Ben sounded bitter when he said it, but before Din could press him Luke came stumbling into the kitchen.

He was still in the clothes he had worn yesterday, holding Grogu tightly against his chest as he blinked the last few remains of sleep from his eyes. Luke looked nearly as exhausted as Din felt, rumpled and disheveled and entirely beautiful as the morning sun streamed through the windows and laced his hair with gold.

Din was quick to stand from the table.

Grogu cooed in delight at seeing him, then starting wiggling in Luke’s hold when he saw Ben and Korkie.

Luke looked over Din’s shoulder, eyes widening. “Uh--”

“You must be Luke,” Ben stood from the table, reaching down to pick Korkie up as his son quietly demanded it. Something had happened yesterday in that house. Din knew it, could see it in the way Ben tightly held his son, in the way Korkie refused to be let go. But Din would not ask here. He wouldn’t scare Korkie further. “I’m Ben. Satine’s husband.”

Luke relaxed.

“You were on Tatooine,” Luke’s voice was rough, far too rough to be from just sleep alone. “I--I’m sorry.”

Ben smiled, but it did not reach his eyes. “Thank you.”

Luke looked down at Grogu and started to sway on his feet. Din easily and quickly took Grogu from Luke and led to the table, sitting him down with a gentle hand on his shoulder. Luke’s eyes fluttered shut and he dropped his head in his hands.

Din set Grogu in his highchair and knelt in front of Luke’s chair, gently pulling his hands back from his face.

“I’m okay,” Luke said. “It’s just a headache.”

“Luke--” Din started, but cut himself off. He hadn’t won this argument yet, and he doubted he was going to now. “I’ll get you some water.”

Luke nodded, wincing at the movement.

Din went to go get a few hyropacks along with a bowl of fruit for Luke to snack on. Luke ignored the fruit as Din set in on the table, but he held the hyropack in his hand, taking small sips at Din’s insistence. When he was satisfied that Luke wasn’t going to pass out he glanced back up at Ben.

Ben was staring at them with an odd look.

Din narrowed his eyes and stood, gesturing for Ben to follow him to the living room. Ben set Korkie down and murmured quiet words in Mando’a to his son, and after gently knocking their heads together he followed after Din.

“He’s force sensitive.” Ben said as soon as Luke was out of earshot.

Din felt his heart drop. “He’s a Jedi?”

“He’s strong with the Force, like your son is,” Ben corrected. “But that doesn’t make either of them a Jedi.” He fell silent for a moment, crossing his arms over his chest before continuing. “I don’t know what life it is that Luke has forgotten, and I don’t know why, but the Force is doing all it can to make sure he doesn’t remember it.” Ben sighed, then, “Take care of him, Din.”

Din thought about his conversation with Boba yesterday, about Ben’s feelings and thoughts and visions, then nodded.

“Ben.” Din called out to the older man before he could go back into the kitchen. Ben stopped and looked back at him with raised eyebrows, one hand braced on the doorway. “What happened yesterday? In the house?”

Ben did not answer right away.

He looked back into the kitchen. Back at Korkie.

“You are not the only one who has a force sensitive child.” he finally said.

—

Luke didn’t notice Ben and Korkie had left, not until Din was back in front of him, kneeling on the floor and gently taking Luke’s hands in his.

“Are you feeling any better?”

Luke nodded slowly. The water had helped.

“Can I--?” Luke started, but not entirely willing to wait for an answer, he leaned forward and pressed his forehead against Din’s. Luke closed his eyes, took in a deep breath. The beskar was cool and soothing, dulling the near constant ache Luke felt in his skull.

Din hesitantly lifted his hands to cradle Luke’s cheeks. He wasn’t wearing his gloves “Luke--”

“I know what this is,” Luke said quietly. He lifted his own hands, placing them over Din’s. HIs hands were rough and calloused and so, so warm. “This is how mandalorians kiss, right?”

There was a moment of stillness, and then Din nodded.

Luke opened his eyes and smiled. Din had pulled back just enough that their foreheads were not longer touching, but Luke didn’t pull him back. He held still, waiting for Din to come back to him. “It’s strange, isn’t it? I haven't known you for very long, but I feel like--I feel like I might belong here. With you.”

Din tilted his head ever so slightly, gently tracing Luke’s cheekbone with his thumb. “No. No, I don’t think that’s strange at all.”

Luke smiled, but it slipped from his lips just as quickly.

“Din, I don’t--I’m scared to remember.”

It terrified Luke. Whatever it was he had forgotten, whatever it was that caused his nightmares and headaches, Luke was terrified of it.

“Then don’t,” Din said simply. He rested his forehead back against Luke’s, pulling him closer and holding him so gently it nearly hurt. Luke slid his hands along Din’s wrist, rested his palms on the side of his helmet and held Din just as gently as he was holding Luke. “Stay here with me.”

“But what if I have to leave?” Luke asked. “What if I remember and I have to leave you?”

“Then come back to me,” Din drew back, and Luke almost reached to pull him back before he realized what Din was doing. He slipped his fingers underneath his helmet, undid the clasps, and then Luke was looking at Din’s eyes, at the most beautiful shade of brown he had ever seen. “Marry me and come back.”

It should have been harder, to say yes, but it slipped from Luke’s mouth as easily as a breath.

--

Anakin burst into the council chambers, stomping to the center of the room where Mace and Yoda sat. They were looking over a holoscreen while Ahsoka hung back, worrying at her bottom lip and rolling the end of one of her lekku between her fingers.

“You raided Tatooine?” It was a demand for an answer, not at question.

“We raided the Mandalorian base on Tatooine.” Mace said. He didn’t look up. “Your son may be our priority, Skywalker, but we are still at war. Tatooine was the mandalorian’s largest off world military base. We had to take it out if we are to still go through with our original plans.”

“There was a settlement not even—“ Anakin started, his anger and fear for the people of his home nearly boiling over.

“What we did, we had to.” Yoda cut him off, then paused as he looked up. “But more troubling matters, discovered we have.”

Anakin blinked. “What the hell could be more--?”

“There was a Jedi there.” Ahsoka said quietly. She had gone on the raid to Tatooine when Yoda asked her to, Anakin knew that, but only on the off chance she may find Luke. Her padawan was her only concern right now. “Fighting with the Mandalorians.”

Anakin was shocked to silence, but it didn’t last long. “Was it Luke?”

Ahsoka shook her head. “It was Master Kenobi.”

Chapter Text

That night, in the safety of Din’s bed and under the watch of the stars, Luke tangled his fingers in Din’s hair, gasping and jerking his hips as Din kissed underneath Luke’s jaw.

“Din—“ Luke groaned, let Din’s name spill from his lips like water. He wished he knew more than a few words in Mando’a, wished that he could speak Din’s language fluently, wished that he could repeat the words he had whispered against Din’s lips moments ago in their native tongue. We are one when together, we are one when parted. “Din, please—I want—“

Din drug his lips up Luke’s jaw, kissed him like he never would again.

“Anything, mesh’la, anything you want.”

Luke gasped. Swallowed the taste of spiced teas and sweet honey. “Again—say it again—“

Din did.

He whispered the words across Luke’s skin like he was mapping stars. “Mhi solus tome, mhi solus dar’tome, mhi me’dinui an, mhi ba’juri verde.”

Luke pulled Din back up for a bruising kiss, repeated the words back against Din’s lips while his heart fluttered like a bird in his chest. This was what love felt like. Luke knew that. Luke was sure of that. And it terrified him and much as it exhilarated him because it burned bright and fierce now--would keep burning until it settled into embers and coal in Luke’s chest. It would keep burning even then, and every time Luke would look at Din he would think I love you.

How strange and wonderful that they had found this, that they were allowed to know that they had found this.

“I love you,” Luke said, moaned as Din rolled his hips against Luke’s. “I’m going to love you—“

“Ni kar’taylir,” Din whispered it, kissed Luke again gently, softly. “I already love you.”

—

The morning sunlight streamed through the windows, rousing Din from soft dreams.

Luke still slept next to him, naked and tangled in the bedsheets and holding loosely onto Din’s wrist. His hair was a mess, all mussed and tangled from Din running his fingers through the blond strands. Bruises and bitemarks littered Luke’s skin, smeared across his shoulders and thighs and chest--Din may have gotten a little carried away, but Luke got swept up with him, if Din’s own pleasant aches were anything to go by.

Din smiled and slowly pulled his arm back before reaching forward again, brushing the hair from Luke’s eyes and pressed a gentle kiss to his forehead. Luke hummed softly, but didn’t wake.

Din watched him for a moment longer before slowly easing himself out of bed, careful not to rouse Luke. He rooted around the bedroom for a pair of pants. The most he could find were the soft lining pants of his flight suit, and after slipping into them and pressing another kiss to Luke’s cheek, he quietly left the room.

He still had duties to see to after his rather abrupt proposal yesterday. It had been almost painful to leave Luke like that, but Luke had let him go, told him his people came first. And so Din had gone, had seen to his people, had seen the Clan leaders and told them tonight was to be a time for mourning and celebrating those lost on Tatooine. Then he asked Bo-Katan to watch after Grogu for the night, returned home and took Luke to bed and whispered declarations and promises and worshiped the man underneath him well after the stars had filled the sky.

Din hummed, lifted a hand to rub at the bruise Luke had worked into his neck, and wondered if tonight his people would urge a celebration of his marriage as well.

It was not unheard of--Din’s people had learned how to mourn and rejoice at the same time. Life was fleeting, to mandalorians. There wasn’t time to get caught up in any one emotion. And with the way things had been lately, there has been precious little to celebrate.

“No helmet today, huh?”

Din froze.

Cara was sitting at the kitchen table, grinning at him as she nursed a cup of spiced tea. Bo-Katan sat next to her with Grogu settled firmly in her lap, chin in her palm and fingers tapping against the table as she looked at Cara with narrowed eyes. Grogu was chewing on the edge of her pauldron, but Bo-Katan either didn’t notice it or just didn’t care.

“Uh--”

“Ba!” Grogu spit out the armor and threw his hands up, whining and reaching up for Din and nearly throwing himself off Bo-Katan’s lap. She caught him easily, thrusting the child in Din’s direction, as he hurried over to take him. “Lu!” Grogu continued, peering over Din’s shoulder and through the kitchen doorway before looking back at him. He tilted his head and cooed. “Lu?”

“Luke’s still sleeping,” Din answered quietly. He pressed a soft kiss to the top of Grogu’s head. “He had a long night.”

Grogu blinked and cooed.

“Looks like you both had a long night,” Cara tilted her head and hummed as she looked Din over, eyes lingering on the bruises Luke had left behind. She took a sip of tea and almost managed to hide her grimace at the taste. “Your boy likes to bite, huh?”

Din felt his face warm while Bo-Katan bit out a few curses in Mando’a before turning that glare onto him. “Djarin, did you ask me to watch your child just so you could get in a good fuck?”

“No.” Din cleared his throat and just barely stopped himself from taking a step back. “We also got married.”

Cara snorted out a laugh and nearly spilled the tea on the floor.

“Congratulations.” Bo-Katan deadpanned. “We’ll throw you a banquet.”

Din bit back a sigh. He wasn’t sure why he thought the two women would be more surprised. “What are you doing in my house?”

“Not to make fun of you, unfortunately,” Cara sobered up quickly, setting the cup down and sitting up straighter. Her smile fell, and Din felt something heavy settle in his stomach. “I was right. The Jedi are looking for Prince Amidala--that’s why Tatooine was attacked. Greef caught some radio chatter that they thought the Prince may have ended up there.” Cara paused, then scowled. “Naboo broke their neutrality, Din.”

“No. They didn’t.” Din shook his head, gently setting Grogu in his high chair. He didn’t hold back his sigh this time as he sat at the table, steepling his fingers together and pressing them against his lips. For a moment he remembered last night, remembered the way Luke arched his back and slipped his fingers past Din’s lips. Then Din blinked and shook his head. “I spoke to Boba last night--he said the jetiise are looking for General Skywalker’s son. He just so happens to be Naboo’s prince too.”

There was a moment of silence, and then Bo-Katan was spitting out a string of curses so vile that Din couldn’t help but reach over to cover Grogu’s ears.

“They have their own children but dare to steal ours?” Bo-Katan’s voice was very near to a yell. If Luke were not awake already, he most certainly would be now. “Val cuyir hut’uun! Chakarr!”

Din frowned. He shared Bo-Katan’s feelings, even if he was more quiet with his anger. As far as he was aware, Jedi weren't allowed to have children--that was part of why Ben left, Din knew. Satine had told him that, when Korkie had been born.

“I understand, but there’s nothing we can do now--” Din started, but Bo-Katan was on a roll.

“We should attack Naboo--”

“No.” Din sharply cut Bo-Katan off before she could finish the thought. “I will not drag innocent people into this, Bo-Katan.”

“The jettise attacked innocent people on Tatooine--”

“And I won’t do the same.” Din’s voice was hard. Final. “I will not bring myself to their level. Not like this.”

If Bo-Katan had a retort, she didn’t get to say it. Luke had hesitantly walked into the kitchen a few moments ago, arms crossed high over his chest as he watched the two argue with wide eyes. Bo-Katan had cut herself off when she finally noticed him, and a moment later Din was standing from the chair to meet Luke. His riduur.

It sent a thrill down Din’s spine.

“Is everything okay?” Luke asked. His voice was hoarse, and he had to stop to clear his throat.

Din didn’t answer right away.

He gently placed his hands on Luke’s hips, pressed their foreheads together. “It will be,” he murmured, softly kissing Luke’s lips. Luke pushed himself a little closer, lifted a hand to cup the back of Din’s neck, thumb dipping down to glide over the bruise he had left. Din shivered under the touch.

“Oh, kriff, they’re gonna be like that--”

“You should be happy for your Mand’alor.” Bo-Katan snapped, cutting off whatever Cara had been about to say before Din could even think to do it.

“Oh I’m very happy for him,” Cara said. “But I don’t want to see that.”

Luke’s face went a pretty pink. He ducked his head down to hide behind Din, and Grogu cooed happily from his high chair.

“Can you two get out of my house? I would like to enjoy breakfast with my family,” Din sighed, kissed the top of Luke’s head, then turned to address Bo-Katan. “We’ll discuss this more tomorrow with Ben. Today is for mourning. Not war and battle talk.”

Bo-Karan nodded. It seemed, for once, that she didn’t want to fight and argue with him. Then she glanced at Luke, and something in her gaze softened.

“And celebrating.” She said softly. “Aay’han.”

Din stared at her for a moment, then looked back at Luke.

“Aay’han.” Din agreed.

—

The lanterns in the throne room were not lit.

There was still enough light to see by, but Luke still found himself holding onto Din’s hand--his husband’s hand--as he led them to the throne. The Armorer stood next to the throne with the spear in hand, looking at Din and Luke with a tilted head.

“I hear congratulations are in order,” she said.

Luke felt his cheeks warm, and Din squeezed Luke’s hand.

“I should have--”

“Nonsense.” The Armorer cut Din off before he could properly speak. “You are happy, ad’kia, when you have not been for so long. That is all that matters to me.” She then turned to look at Luke. “Come, ad. You will stand beside me while the Mand’alor speaks to our people.”

Luke did so without question, but not before pressing his forehead to Din’s and murmuring a soft I love you.

Din held him just as closely, whispered the words back, then gently passed Grogu to him.

The Armorer hit the end of the spear against the floor three times, letting the echo ring out in the room as the gathered mandalorians fell silent. Luke hadn’t realized the throne room was this big--it was more like a banquet hall, really. It seemed like the whole city of Keldabe was here, gathered around tables and conversing and knocking back shots of booze with cheers and toasts.

“The Mand’alor speaks.” The Armorer said.

Din was silent for only a moment as he took in a breath.

“Ni su’cuyi, gar kyr’adyc, ni partayli, gar darasuum.” Luke watched as Din bowed his head. He let the silence linger before he spoke the names of those who had died in the Tatooine raid. He paused after each name, gave each time to be mourned and let go. The room slowly grew brighter with each name, and it took a moment for Luke to realize that after Din spoke each name, Bo-Katan lit a lantern. “Nu kyr’adyc, shi taab’echaaj’la.”

Din looked up. “We mourn for our fallen, but as we mourn their loss we also celebrate the life they lived with us, and we celebrate the next great path they will follow in the way of the Mando’ad.” Din paused and glanced at Luke, tilting his head in that silent smile of his. “Just as I hope you will celebrate mine.”

There was a quiet murmur of surprise throughout the room.

But then Din held his hand out to Luke. And Luke smiled, reached for it, then came to stand beside Din. He caught a glimpse of Bo-katan over Din’s shoulder. She was smiling softly, an almost forgin expression on her face.

“I married, last night,” although Din spoke quietly, his voice still filled the room. He did not look away from Luke.

Luke wasn’t sure if Din had planned to say more, but a cheer rose up from the crowd that would have prevented him from doing so anyway, loud and rambunctious. There were a few whistles, one of which Luke recognized as Cara’s, and then Din was getting tugged off by a few of his generals and having a drink shoved in his hand.

Luke blinked, entirely startled by the sudden shift in the room.

“As a Mandalorian, you understand that life is fleeting. That nothing is permanent,” the Armorer said. She was standing next to him again, spear still in hand. “We mourn when those we love leave us for their next great journey, and then we move on to celebrate what is left of the life we have been given and continue to walk our own path until it converges again with those we’ve lost.”

The Armorer turned to look at him, but Luke didn’t look at her. He kept looking at Din.

“You have chosen to walk with our Mand’alor, to follow steps in his path and share in his happiness and sorrows—to become a clan of three,” the Armorer said it quietly. “We will still mourn tonight, but your marriage is something worth celebrating.”

Luke turned to look at her.

She tilted her head in what Luke had come to recognize in Din as a smile.

“I crafted this long ago.” she reached into one of the pouches on her belt, pulled out a delicate chain. Hanging from it was a pendant—Din’s mudhorn signet. “You do not have your own armor, but regardless, this belongs to you. It is yours by right.”

Luke reached out for it.

Grogu cooed and reached for it as well. Luke let the child hold it, and then Grogu babbled and reached up, necklace still in hand. “Lu!”

“You want me to put it on?” Luke asked, already ducking his head down so Grogu could slip the necklace up and over Luke’s head. The pendant settled on his chest. A welcomed weight.

“Hey, pretty boy!”

Luke blinked and looked up.

Cara had made her way over to Din, and she was waving for Luke to come over.

“Go,” The Armorer said when Luke hesitantly looked back at her. “Be with your riduur.”

Luke hurried over and immediately Cara took Grogu from him and shoved a drink in his hand.

Chapter Text

“You’re drunk.”

Luke giggled, gently butting his head against Din’s as he maneuvered Luke into the bed. He kept his arms firmly locked around Din’s shoulders even when he set Luke down, pulling him down so they both went tumbling into the warm sheets.

“No ‘m not,” Luke said. He smiled and hooked his leg around Din’s. “I told you—I can handle my--my booze.”

Din hummed.

Luke had been able to keep up scarily well with Boba as they both drank and took shot after shot throughout the night. Boba could very easily drink anyone under the table--he had left Din with more than a few raging hangovers--and given Luke’s small frame, Din was sure that he would be dragging his husband—his riduur—back home before any of the real drinking got started.

But Luke surprised everyone and downed the booze he had been given like it was water.

“Of course you can,” Din agreed.

Luke hummed and nodded and snuggled closer to Din. His hands clumsily searched for the clasps of Din’s helmet, and after a few moments Din took pity on Luke and removed his helmet. Luke started, wide eyed, then brought his hands to cup Din’s cheeks.

“You’re so handsome,” he mumbled. Then he pressed a sloppy kiss to Din’s lips. “I love you.”

“And I, you, cyar’ika,” Din hummed, kissed Luke again, then gently eased himself out of Luke’s hold. “You need to get some sleep.”

Luke grunted, but didn’t argue. Sleep was coming for him fast, it seemed, even though he had vehemently fought it off the entire trip back home.

Din pulled the blankets up around Luke’s shoulders, smiling fondly.

“Din?” Luke said his name softly, fighting back a yawn. “Will you come after me? If I have to leave?”

Din paused, his hand hovering over Luke’s shoulder. He swallowed back something bitter. “Are you going to leave?”

“I think someone’s going to take me from you.” Luke mumbled. He was close to falling asleep, but even as he struggled to keep his eyes open, he looked serious. He looked scared. It frightened Din, and when Luke reached out for him Din leaned closer. “I don’t want to go, but I--I don’t think I’ll have a choice.” Luke tangled his fingers in the fabric of Din’s undershirt, almost like a child. “Promise me--if I have to go, promise me you’ll bring me back.”

“I will,” Din agreed without hesitation, even as his heart beat fast and his blood rushed through his veins. “I’ll bring you back home, Luke. I promise.”

Luke didn’t reply.

He had finally slipped off into a quiet slumber.

Din watched him for a few more moments before he quietly slipped from the room and into the nursery to check on Grogu, his hands shaking.

The child had fallen asleep about halfway through the celebration, easily tired out by all the hustle and bustle. Din had fashioned his cape into a birikad so Grogu could at least sleep comfortably, and when Luke started to slur his speech and sway on his feet and lean on Boba to keep his balance, Din decided to call it quits and take his family home.

Din reached his hand out, gently grazing his knuckles along Grogu’s cheek.

The child hummed quietly, but did not wake.

Din couldn’t imagine losing either of them.

A flicker of movement caught Din’s eye. He looked up and out the window, where he could just make out Ben slowly walking through the gardens next to the house. Din watched him for a moment, then went back to the bedroom to grab his helmet before slipping out of the house.

“I didn’t know there was anyone who could keep up with Boba,” was Ben’s greeting. He was standing by one of the fruit trees, looking up at the stars with a tilted head. The mythosaur looked down at them, shining brightly in the dark sky. “Your riduur is going to have one hell of a hangover tomorrow.”

“Guess I’ll start brewing the caf then.”

Ben huffed out a quiet laugh.

They fell into a comfortable silence. Din thought of Luke’s mumblings and worries, wanted desperately to ask Ben if it was just drunken ramblings, but he didn’t want to break this silence.

“I knew Anakin.” Ben suddenly said. “We were...he was my friend.”

Din blinked and looked at Ben.

Ben was not looking at him. His head was still tilted up towards the stars.

“Was?” Din asked quietly.

“We had a...disagreement.” Ben answered. Din didn’t push him to continue. He stood silently, waiting for Ben to gather his thoughts. “He’s not a bad man, Din. Whatever happens next, I need you to remember that.” then Ben looked at him, and something heavy settled in Din’s stomach. “Trouble is coming our way, and I don’t think we can stop it this time.”

--

Luke woke with a gasp, his flight or fight instincts kicked into overdrive.

He looked widely around the room, but before he could properly register that the fear he felt was from another nightmare he didn’t remember he was already scrambling out of bed and hurrying towards the refresher, throwing himself over the sink just as he vomited.

He winced as it burned his throat and didn’t dare look up as Din poked his head in.

“Are you alright?”

Luke answered by vomiting again.

Din was suddenly beside him, rubbing slow circles between Luke’s shoulder blades as he stayed hunched over the sink, breathing heavily. His head was pounding and aching against the light. Luke almost welcomed the pain, because this was different from the constant ache he felt--this was manageable. This was because he had drank himself stupid last night, not becasue he was constantly trying to remember things he didn’t want to.

But he didn’t welcome it enough.

“How--” Luke’s voice cracked. “--how much did I drink last night?”

“A lot,” Din answered. Luke narrowed his eyes as he looked up at his husband. Din was already in his armor. “Boba was fairly impressed, if it’s any consolation.”

Luke opened his mouth to retort, but he found himself back over the sink again and gagging as he tried to throw up again with an empty stomach.

“Come on, let’s get you back to bed,” Din hooked his arm around Luke’s waist. Luke let him lead him back to the bed, where he laid down and rolled over onto his side as his stomach churned again. Din kissed his forehead, promised to be right back, then slipped out of the room. The door opened again a few moments later, and then Grogu was tugging on the sheets as he crawled up into the bed.

He cooed softly, snuggling up to Luke’s side and placing a hand on his cheek.

“I’m okay,” Luke said softly. “ ‘m just a little sick.”

Grogu tilted his head, then glanced down and reached over to touch Luke’s stomach. He cooed and looked back up at Luke, ears twitching and tilting his head again.

Din slipped back back into the room. He had a couple hydropacks and a few packets of crackers, which he set on the bedside table. Luke eyed both of them skeptically before turning his attention back to Din.

“I have some meetings to go to,” Din had a bowl too, which he set on the floor well within Luke’s reach. Then he sat on the edge of the bed, gently touching Grogu’s ear before leaning down to kiss Luke’s forehead again. He pulled back, tilted his head at he looked at Luke. “But I’ll send Boba in to check on you.”

Luke frowned. He felt far too awful to properly argue. “I don’t think Boba will appreciate playing babysitter.”

“He got you drunk.” Din answered. “It’s the least he could do.”

Luke smiled, but it dropped just as quickly.

“Din.” he said. “I am going to throw up.”

Din wordlessly handed Luke a bowl and politely looked away and Luke reached. Grogu whined and touched Luke’s stomach again.

--

Despite Ben’s warning, things stayed peaceful on Mandalore.

Din could not completely pacify Bo-Katan, and so he agreed to let her, Cara, and Koska go on a recon mission to Naboo with an agreement to not engage and to come back at the end of the week with whatever information they managed to gather on Naboo’s missing prince and the Tatooine raid. Luke, meanwhile, slipped into the public life of the Mand’alor’s spouse easily, and the people were quick to accept him in turn. They adored him, really, so many of their earlier misgivings swept away with Luke’s kindness and bright smiles

Luke did not mention his fear of being taken from Mandalor to Din again, and so Din didn’t bring it up. He found himself far more concerned about other things, as the intensity of Luke’s nightmares escalated.

He woke screaming most nights, clinging to Din until the sun rose.

His headaches worsened, and although Luke still avoided the pain dampeners, there were some days where he couldn’t function without one.

Satine had nothing more she could offer, and in his desperation Din had gone to Ben.

“I told you, the Force is doing everything it can to keep Luke from remembering things, subconsciously or not.” Ben had looked truly apologetic as Din sat at the kitchen table in Bo-Katan’s home. Even though Satine and Ben were staying here, it felt far too empty without her there. “I imagine it won’t stop until Luke does remember the life he had before he crashed.”

“I’m not going to force him to remember.” Din snapped. Ben didn’t seem phased by it. He continued to brew his tea. “It’ll just make it worse.”

Ben set a cup in front of Din.

Din eyed it, but let Ben fill it with tea. It wasn’t mandalorian spiced tea--it smelled far too sweet for that.

“Let him see the saber.” Ben said. He sat across from Din, spooning some honey into his own tea. “I can’t imagine he’ll remember much, if anything, but it might soothe the Force enough to give him some relief.”

Din himself had no qualms about letting his husband see the lightsaber, but Luke hadn’t wanted to see it.

“No.” he said when Din brought it up over dinner that night. Luke was feeding Grogu a bowl of soup, and he didn’t pause in his movements as he continued to speak. “I can handle it, Din. I don’t need to see the saber.”

I don’t want to remember had gone unspoken between them.

“Luke--” Din started, then stopped. He reached across the table, gently took the bowl from Luke’s hands and set it down. He took one of Luke’s hands and squeezed softy, reaching up with his other to gently cup Luke’s cheek. “Cyar’ika, I won’t think of you any differently.”

Luke had not answered him, but when he didn’t fall asleep that night, too afraid of what his dreams would bring him, he agreed to see the saber.

--

The Armorer had taken Luke to the forge, alone, leaving Din in the throne room to wait.

“He’ll be fine, you know that, right?” Paz was sitting on the floor, letting Grogu climb all over him and chew at his armor like he was a play thing.

“I know, I just--” Din stopped his pacing and sighed. He sat on the floor next to Paz, holding out his arms as Grogu cooed happily and scampered over to climb up in his lap. Din sighed again, leaning his head down to Grogu to headbutt. “He’s hurting, Paz, and I can’t do anything to help him.”

“You have been there to support him,” Boba spoke up from where he was standing by the throne. “I would not say that’s nothing.”

Din did not get the chance to reply.

Cara came running to the throne room, chest heaving as she struggled to get her breath back. Koska was right behind her, and Bo-Katan came marching in a few moments later. All three still wore their armor, but even then they looked frazzled and frantic.

“We need to talk.” Bo-Katan said. “Now.”

Din frowned. “Can it wait--”

“We were followed by a small ship. Jedi. We couldn’t shake them.” Koska cut him off. She took in a deep breath, and it was then that Din realized they must have run here from the ship docks. “The Naboo prince--his name is Luke.”

Din’s heart dropped.

“The forge—get to the forge, now.”

—

Luke eyed the saber skeptically. “And you’re sure this is mine?”

The Armorer hummed. “We found it with you when you crashed. There is a possibility it is not yours, but until it is returned to its rightful owner, the weapon belongs to you.”

The Armorer held it out to him, but Luke did not take it.

“It will not hurt you, ad.” she said softly.

“I know--” Luke swallowed and crossed his arms over his chest. He looked away from her and back towards her forges fire. It flickered and danced and lit up the beskar pieces that were carefully scattered throughout the room. “I know it won’t.”

The Armorer set the saber down on her worktable. “You are afraid of your memories.”

Luke didn’t reply.

The Armorer stayed silent, waiting for Luke to continue.

“If I remember, I’ll have to leave,” Luke finally said. He looked up at her, reached a hand up to wrap around the signet he wore. The metal was warm. “I don’t know how I know but I just--I don’t--” Luke paused and looked down at the ground, squeezing his eyes shut as a dull ache flared up at the base of his skull. It felt like something slammed into the back of his head. He stumbled forward, and as the Armorer reached out to catch him the doors to her forge flew open.

She pushed Luke behind her, reached for a sheet of beskar and held it between them just as a blindingly bright saber came down upon her. She easily shoved her attacker off her and spun on her heel, reaching for a rod of beskar she had yet to melt down.

The Armorer couldn’t reach it fast enough.

Luke reached for the saber.

It lit up in his hands, casting a pretty green light as he blocked the saber before it could hit her.

The man’s eyes widened in surprise. “Luke?”

Luke pushed him back, dropping his head into his hand as his vision swam. He stumbled back, bumped into the table.

“Luke!” the man repeated his name, stepped closer. Someone yanked him back, and then there was Din, standing between Luke and the Jedi.

“Get away from him.”

The Jedi was silent for a moment, and then, “What did you do to my son?”

Luke’s heart jumped to his throat and threatened to choke him.

Din didn’t answer. He drew his own saber, the blade casting eerie shadows as its dark color clashed with the bright blue of the other saber. “Leave this forge, now,” Din’s voice was low, full of venom ready to be spit out. “And I may let you make if off my planet in one piece.”

Luke looked up.

Bo-Katan and Koska were blocking the door, but there was still another Jedi in the forge--a Togruta woman. She was looking at Luke with wide eyes. Something pushed at the back of Luke’s head, frantic and insistent, and Luke was quick to look down, biting his cheek and squeezing his eyes shut as bile rose to his throat.

He remembered, suddenly, why he had been so afraid to fall asleep.

He had dreamed of this--of Din lying at his feet, his silver armor stained red.

“Don’t hurt him—“ Luke pushed past Din and grabbed the man’s wrist, the heat of the saber nearly searing his skin as he shoved him away. He was panicked and frantic, his own saber humming in his hand like it was reacting to his emotions--like it was trying to sooth him. “I’ll go with you, just don’t hurt him.”

“Luke--!” Din reached for him, but Luke pulled away.

“Promise me,” Luke continued. He stared the man down, swallowed back bile as his head pounded. “Promise me you won’t hurt him.”

The man looked Luke and Din. Then lowered his saber, let the blade retract.

“Luke--” Din repeated his name, softer this time. “Cyar’ika--”

“Promise me.” Luke repeated.

The man started at him, then slowly nodded.

There was a shuffling behind him, and when Luke looked back the Armorer had a firm hold on Din’s wrist. “Duumir kaysh at slanar,” she said. “Kaysh kelir mar’eyir kaysha ara norac.”

“I’m sorry--” Luke’s voice sounded close to breaking, and then the Togruta woman was rushing towards him, gently taking him in his arms and hurrying him out of the forge. Bo-Katan looked like she was going to fight the woman, but Koska pulled her back and let them pass.

Luke struggled to breathe.

He felt like he was going to be sick.

He was ushered onto a ship. Luke’s legs gave out on him. He dropped the saber. It clattered to the floor, rolled until it bumped into a control panel.

“Luke--” the woman fell to the floor with him, taking his face in between her hands. “Luke, let me help you--”

“Let go of me--”

She didn’t.

“You know me, little one,” she said. She searched his eyes for any recognition, and upon finding none, gently touched her forehead to Luke’s.

Luke jerked back, squirmed and reeled and tried to bite back the nausea rising in his throat—tried to get away. But she held him steady, placed her fingers against Luke’s temples, and then something in his head snapped.

Luke pushed her away as his vision went black from the pain.

“Ahsoka?” He choked the name out, but before he could get an answer, Luke blacked out.

Chapter Text

Grogu was clinging to Din so tightly that he could feel the child’s little claws digging into his skin. His eyes were still wet and watery even though Grogu had cried and wailed and sobbed until there were no more tears left for him to cry. Din was holding his son just as tightly, staring blankly at the walls of the room as he sat in the throne, tired and exhausted and empty--it was strange to think that a few days ago Luke had been here with him, smiling and laughing and drinking and celebrating their marriage. Celebrating what little joy their people could find during war times.

But Luke was gone.

Just like that, Luke was gone.

And Grogu, who Din had left in the throne room in his panic and desperation to get to Luke, was crying when he returned.

Din was in a daze when he walked back into the throne room, scooping up Grogu on autopilot. He held his son close to his chest, tried to sooth his cries and sobs. But Din couldn’t even sooth the pain blooming in his own heart. All he could offer was a steady shoulder to cry on.

“They stole a member of the Mand’alor’s clan!” Bo-Katan was saying. She was arguing with Boba, agitation and anger bleeding off of her as she paced up and down. Boba stood still, his arms crossed over his chest, eyes following Bo-Katan’s movements. Paz and Koska were standing silently between them, all four of them having followed Din back as he stumbled through the streets of Keldabe. “We can not let this disrespect—“

“I understand that, princess, but the fact is that we don’t have the resources right now to storm Coruscant--the jetiise made sure of that.” Boba bit back. “I’m just as angered as you, but—“

“Get out.” Din said. His voice was nearly a whisper.

Bo-Katan snapped her mouth shut and halted her pacing, and Boba flicked his eyes up to Din.

“Din—“ Boba started, but Din did not let him get any further.

“Get out!” Something in Din snapped. “All of you! Slana’pir!”

Grogu whined and clung tighter to Din, and then all four of them were quickly scampering out of the throne room when Din rose to his feet, like children running from their angry father. He watched them go, then fell back into the throne, entirely defeated. He let go of Grogu just long enough to remove his helmet. He let it fall, let it clatter to the floor as he scooped his son up and pressed their foreheads together and took in a breath that felt like it would never completely fill his lungs.

“I’m sorry, ad’ika,” Din’s voice shook with every word. “I’m so sorry.”

Grogu hiccupped, reached his hands up to hold Din’s face.

Din was crying.

He wondered how long he had been.

Grogu cooed softly, patted Din’s cheeks gently to wipe away the tears. “Lu,” he said softly, pulling his head back just enough to gently bump his head into Din’s jaw. Din held him closer, squeezed his eyes shut before opening them again.

All he could see was Luke, leaving.

All he could see was him letting Luke leave.

Din didn’t know how long he sat like that with Grogu--quiet and hunched over and so full of sorrow that it hurt--but it was long enough for Grogu to tire himself out with his crying. Long enough for Grogu to fall into an uneasy sleep, still clinging to Din like he was afraid that his father would leave too.

“Din.”

Din looked away from Grogu, glancing up to see who was speaking to him.

It was Ben.

He was standing before the throne, hands clasped together in front of him and his head bowed respectfully. Din did not reach for his helmet, nor did he tell Ben to leave. Whatever anger he had felt at the others as they fought and argued was gone, replaced with a weariness that sank deep into his bones.

“I spoke to Bo-Katan, outside--” Ben started, then stopped. “I’m sorry, Din.”

Din swallowed back something bitter. He looked down at Grogu, ducked his head down to gently press against his son’s. “He told me. He told me someone was going to take him.”

Ben looked up, surprise coloring his face.

“But I didn’t think--” Din cut himself off with a broken sob.

“You couldn’t have known this would happen,” Ben said quickly. His voice sounded closer, but Din was afraid to look up. He was afraid that if he did he would lose what little composure he had left.

“He told me, Ben,” Din snapped it out. He felt something wet gather in the corner of his eyes. “That night--he told me that he didn’t want to go--”

“That means nothing.” Ben replied. His voice stayed even and calm and soft even as he cut Din off. “The things that the Force chooses to share are rarely coherent--I doubt Luke even fully understood what he was trying to tell you.” Ben stayed silent for while he waited for Din to reply, letting out a soft sigh when Din stayed quiet. “If he really is Anakin’s son, they’re not going to hurt him. He’ll be taken to Coruscant and treated for any injuries before he’s brought back to Naboo.” another moment of silence, and then, “Din, what Luke did, he did to keep you safe--to keep his Clan safe.”

That did not ease Din’s ache.

“You would have done the same thing,” Ben finished.

Din closed his eyes and opened them again just as quickly. Still, all he could see was Luke’s face, his wide eyes and shaking hands, lips mouthing an apology as he was dragged away--as Din let him go.

“Is he?” Din asked softly. “Skywalker’s son?”

Ben was silent for a moment, like he was debating on if he should give the right answer. “Yes. He is.”

Din held Grogu closer to his chest. “Did you know?”

“No. I had no idea, not until today.” Ben answered truthfully. Then he paused. Din glanced up at him. He was still looking down, looking away from Din’s face. But his hand had gone to hover next his saber, still hanging from his waist. Even though Ben had been wearing mandalorian armor for as long as Din could remember, it was odd how right the saber looked on him. “It had been so long since I’ve felt Anakin’s Force signature that I didn’t see the resemblance to Luke’s until Anakin stepped foot on Mandalore.”

He looked up then, and Din didn’t look away.

“If I had known, I would have told you.”

Din held Ben’s gaze for a few moments before he looked away. Grogu whined in his sleep, his hold on Din tightening.

Maybe this knowledge should have been more surprising. Should have affected Din more than what it was. But Din truly thought nothing of it. Luke being a prince--being the son of General Skywalker--meant almost nothing to him. Luke was...Luke. Luke, who had told Din he wanted to stay, had asked Din to bring him back, had been afraid of what would happen if he did remember his life. And despite that fear Luke still made Mandalore his home—had carved out a spot by Din’s side and filled it with smiles and laughter and a happiness that his people had not known in years.

That Din hadn’t known in years.

“I don’t think it would have mattered,” Din finally said. He thought that even if he had known when Luke first crashed he will would have pulled Luke out of the wreckage, still would have carried him back to Keldabe, still would have been fascinated enough by this strange man to fall in love with him.

“No, I suppose not.” Ben agreed. “I’ve been told that love is a funny thing like that.”

Din took in a deep breath, felt every single one of his bones shudder with it. “Ben--I don’t know what to do.”

“Do you know what you want to do?”

“I want to bring him home,” Din snapped out.

“Then Bo-Katan was right.” Ben answered, not the least bit put off by Din’s sudden spike of anger.

Din looked back up at Ben, surprised that the usually peaceful man was agreeing with Bo-Katan. “What, that we should attack Naboo?”

“No,” Ben shook his head. He had a small smile on his lips, bitter and tight. “She was right in that Luke is part of your Clan. He carries your signet, shares your duties and cares for your family. He has just as much of a right to be on Mandalore as he does Naboo.”

Din looked back down at Grogu, gently lifting a hand to cup the child’s head.

“Whether or not he took the Creed, he is Mandalorian,” Ben’s voice went quiet. “The Jedi will have to accept that.”

Din was sure that Ben wasn’t just talking about Luke now.

-

Luke didn’t know where he was when he woke.

He shot up with a gasp, falling back down almost immediately after as a sharp ache slammed into his skull and warm hands gripped his shoulder and gently pushed him back down. He knew he wasn’t on Mandalore. The lights above his head were far too bright and harsh to be the softly flickering lanterns and watery sunlight Luke usually woke to.

“It’s alright, little one, you’re safe--” Luke knew that voice, but he couldn’t fight back his panic quickly enough to fully realize that. “--Leia, go get your mother--”

“Din!” Luke gasped out. “Where’s Din?”

The hand’s on Luke’s shoulders loosed their grip in surprise.

“Luke!” Then there was another voice, and whoever was holding onto Luke was being pulled back and Luke was being wrapped into a tight hug. Luke didn’t know who this was--he panicked and squirmed and tried to get back, but then the scent of millaflowers hit him and soft hair tickled his skin and--

“Mom?” Luke croaked out.

There was a soft sigh of relief, and Luke glanced over to see that it had been the Togruta woman from before--Ahsoka, Luke’s mind supplied. His teacher.

“We were afraid you wouldn’t remember,” Ahsoka said when she saw Luke looking at her. “There was--there was some sort of barrier around your mind. I had to break it.” she paused and glanced at the woman sitting next to her. She was Luke’s age and looked startling similar to his mother, and she was looking at him with an expression that Luke could not place. “It might take awhile before you remember everything.”

Luke’s heart jumped to his throat.

He hadn’t wanted--

“Did you hurt him?” Luke said suddenly. His mother pulled back, surprised by the outburst. “Din, did you hurt him?”

Ahsoka blinked slowly. “I don’t--little one, I don’t know who Din is.”

It took a moment for Luke’s mind to catch up.

The Mand’alor’s name was not something that was freely given. Luke remembered how Din had explained that, how he said that his name was something that was almost as sacred as the title of Mand’alor itself. But I want to give you my name, Din had said. I want you to have it.

“He’s--” Luke started, then cut himself off. He didn’t want to give up Din’s name, not when it was all he had. His hand twitched, reaching up to grip the mudhorn pendant tightly enough to hurt. His heart was pounding so loud. “I--I don’t know where I am--”

“You’re on Coruscant,” The voice was muffled. Luke could hardly hear it. “Luke, you’re bleeding--”

Luke gripped the pendant tighter even as his mother tried to make him let go.

It was wet and slick and warm.

“Little one--Padme, go get Anakin--”

“I’m not leaving my son--”

“Mom go, I’ve got him--”

Luke curled his legs up to his chest, ducked his head down and held the pendant as tightly as he could.

He couldn’t breathe.

Chapter Text

Luke was in a different room when he woke. The lights were softer here, less harsh and bright. It was like they had been dimmed to create a poor imitation of the soft glow of mandalorian lanterns. Luke slowly sat up, bracing himself on his palms as he did. He winced as a sharp pain flared up in his shoulder and an even sharper pain zipped up from his hand--a pain that he did not remember having.

Luke looked down, lifting his hand and blinking at the bactapatches on his palm.

“We had to sedate you,”

Luke startled, drawing his hand close to his chest as he snapped his head up. The woman from earlier, the one Luke hadn’t recognized but had looked so achingly familiar, was sitting in a chair next to the bed. Her big brown eyes were locked with his. They were red and puffy like she had been crying.

“You wouldn’t let go of your necklace. You were bleeding. Bad.” She paused, then looked away and down to her hands. Luke could see a flash of silver peeking between her fingers. “You were having a panic attack. I couldn’t—I couldn’t get you to calm down.”

Luke felt guilt rise up in his chest, pushing up into his throat and threatening to choke him.

“Leia?” He asked it quietly, the name coming back to him like a melody.

She looked up at him. She looked upset—angry, yes, but enough worry and relief slipped through her frown, enough to make her look frightened and scared. Like a child. “At least I know you weren’t ignoring me on purpose.”

“I’m sorry—“ Luke cut himself off as something bitter rose up in his throat. He remembered the insistent proddings he felt at the back of his mind when he first landed on Mandalore, realized that had been Leia. His sister. “Leia, I’m sorry—“

How could he forget his sister?

Leia didn’t say anything for a moment. She simply looked at Luke, tilting her head before looking down at her hands. The silver flashes Luke had seen between her hands he now recognized as beskar—as his signet.

“This is the Mand’alor’s signet.” Leia said it like she wasn’t looking for confirmation, but Luke gave it anyway.

“It is.” Luke swallowed. He felt nauseous.

Leia stayed quiet for a few moments, looking at the mudhorn as the light bounced off it. Luke wanted to reach forward and take it back.

“What were you doing over Mandalore?” she finally asked.

“I--I don’t--” Luke started, then cut himself off. It was not that he didn’t remember--no, Luke remembered almost too well because now he couldn’t seem to forget. He had dreamed of it--of the siege on Keldabe, of Din dying to protect him, his people, his child. Luke had these nightmares long before he crashed on Mandalore--it was why he had asked to go on that scouting mission. Why he hadn’t taken Artoo with him. Why he had broken off his flight path in the first place.

Luke had never been one to question the things that the Force showed him, and this had been no different.

“Are they still planning the siege?” Luke asked instead.

Leia’s lack of an immediate answer was enough to get Luke hurrying out of bed.

“Luke--” Leia reached out to pull him back, but Luke was already out the door and hurrying to the council chambers.

His stomach was rolling and churning, threatening to make him vomit again, but Luke swallowed it down and pushed on. His fear and panic threatened to choke him, and by the time Luke pushed past the protocol droids and shoved his way into the council room his vision had gone blurry and he was gasping for air.

It took him a moment to recognize the room.

“Luke?” the man who had been on Mandalore was standing in the center of the room with Ahsoka. “Luke--you should be resting--”

“You can’t attack Mandalore.” Luke gasped it out just as he remembered who the man was.

Anakin Skywalker.

His father.

Luke stumbled. Ahsoka reached out to catch him. Anakin rushed over, placed his hands on Luke’s shoulder and gently pulled him away from Ahsoka. His touch was a familiar one, comforting in the way of chasing away childhood monsters and dreams.

“You can’t siege Keldabe,” Luke continued. He reached up, grabbed onto his father’s arms to steady himself. “Dad, please--there are so many people living there--”

“Will you get your son out of here?” Someone else spoke up, someone Luke didn’t recognize.

He couldn’t look long enough to remember, because a moment later Anakin was gently guiding Luke back out of the council room, holding steady even as Luke squirmed and argued and tried to get back inside. He thought he was going to be sick from how panicked he felt, but Luke swallowed it down and held fast to his father even when he tried to hand him back off to Leia, who had followed after him and was waiting outside the council doors.

“Dad, you can’t--”

“The siege isn’t up to me, Luke,” Anakin said gently. “Nor is it up to you--now you need to rest--”

“The Mand’alor has a son, did you know that?” Luke blurted it out, his desperation and fear struggling to filter his words. “He lives in Keldabe with his father. His name is Grogu--he’s just a baby--”

Anakin jerked, like he was startled by that. “That doesn’t--Luke, that doesn’t change anything.”

“You already attacked Tatooine. You--you destroyed homes and families--” Luke was struggling to breathe, but he pressed on. “How can you even think to do that again--?”

“We’re in the middle of a war--”

“So?” Luke was yelling now. He knew that, but he couldn’t get himself to quiet down. He could hear movement from inside the council chambers. “You--you don’t get to keep your family safe and have a complete disregard for Din’s--”

“Din?” Leia asked, but Luke ignored her.

“Luke, I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Anakin still kept his voice gentle and soft, but there was a firmness to it that caused Luke to snap his mouth shut. “You--Luke, you’re sick. You need to rest. You need sleep.”

“I don’t want to sleep!” Luke snapped it out just as the doors to the council room snapped open.

There was Ahsoka, and then a little green man followed after her. He looked like an older version of Grogu, and Luke felt an ache in his heart that was so intense that he stumbled back from it. Leia had to hold him up and keep him on his feet.

“Not well, your son is.”

Anakin scowled. “He was on Mandalore for weeks--he’s adjusting.”

Yoda--his name was Yoda--hummed. “Perhaps take him back to Naboo, you should.” He glanced at Luke. “Distressed, he is.”

“No!” Luke blurted it out. “No, I can’t--I have to stay here--”

“Oh, little one,” Ahsoka stepped up to him, gently holding his face between her hands. “I’m so sorry.”

Luke could feel her poking and prodding at the back of his mind, and then his vision blacked out.

--

Luke woke abruptly, the image of Din’s head falling to the floor of the Armorer’s forge as he threw himself off the bed and vomited.

Leia was at his side immediately, placing a hand on his back and gently rubbing circles between his shoulder blades as he gagged and heaved until there was nothing left. He couldn’t tell where he was when he looked back up. This was a different room, different lights, different stars dotting the sky outside the window.

He recognized it much more quickly, though.

“We brought you back to Naboo,” Leia answered Luke’s silent question. “Master Yoda thought it would be best if you recovered somewhere familiar.”

Luke swallowed.

He had been out long enough to get to Naboo without waking.

Naboo, which was as familiar to him now as dreams were. It was a comfort, of course, but still somewhere that he felt out of place in.

“I can’t--” Luke’s voice cracked.

Din wouldn’t be able to find him. Not while he was on Naboo.

“Let me get this cleaned up,” Leia spoke softly, kissed Luke’s temple gently as she rose from the bed and left the room. She came back a moment later with a bucket and a cleaning droid, and after the vomit was gone and the droid was scuttling back out of the room she set the bucket down and sat back on the bed. She was still holding Luke’s pendant, running her thumb along the horn and scraping off the flecks of blood that still remained.

She stayed silent for a moment, then quietly asked, “Who’s Din?”

Luke didn’t say anything.

“Is he the Mand’alor?” Leia pressed. She looked at Luke, held up the mudhorn. “Is that why you have this?”

Luke looked down, curled his fingers in the blankets.

Leia took Luke’s answer as confirmation, which, Luke supposed, it was. “Why do you know the Mand’alor’s name? No one knows the Mand’alor’s name.”

Luke swallowed back something bitter and hard.

“Because I married him.” He said quietly. He let it slip between his lips, let himself grasp what little bit of the life he had on Mandalore that he still had left. He missed it. He missed Din.

Leia’s silence was deafening.

“You married him?” Her voice was strangled and nearly silent, but as she let it sink in she grew louder until she was all but shouting. “Luke what were you thinking?”

“I was thinking that I love him!” Luke snapped it out.

The first tear fell, then the second, and then Luke was sobbing. Whatever wall that had been desperately trying to hold him together had broken.

Chapter Text

Luke had stayed awake that night, too afraid to fall asleep.

Too afraid to see Din die again.

He had bribed Threepio to get him some caf after Leia left, held the cup tightly in his hands as he looked out the window of his bedroom, looked at the familiar lights and flora of Naboo and tried to pick out the stars that made up Mandalore’s constellations. But he was too far away from the Outer Rim. Too far away from Din. So he watched the sunrise instead, drank his ice cold caf as the sun kissed over the horizon.

Leia had given him his necklace back after Luke had exhausted himself with his tears.

She had pulled him into a hug and held him close, listened as Luke told her about the crash, how Din took care of him, how Din had loved him. She had looked ready to cry too when Luke had finished, and she pushed the signet back into his hand and kissed his forehead and murmured apologies.

Luke didn’t think she understood, not really.

She knew what it was like to be in love, but not like this.

His father came in just as the sun rose above the tree lines, Artoo trilling quiet apologies to Luke for not flying with him that day as he followed after Anakin. Luke gave Artoo a smile and a nod, but otherwise didn’t answer the droid. Anakin sat on the bed with Luke, but still stayed far enough away to give him space. Luke could feel Anakin gently poking and prodding at their bond, trying to learn what it was that was causing his son so much sorrow.

Luke shut him out.

Anakin flinched back, but schooled himself quickly enough that they could both pretend it hadn’t happened.

“Luke,” Anakin started slowly. He paused, bit out a frustrated sigh that Luke knew wasn't aimed at him so much as it was the council and the circumstances that led them to where they are now. Still, Luke shrunk back, held his cup of caf tighter. “Luke, you need to tell me what happened on Mandalore.”

Luke looked at his father, looked at the worry that bled off him in waves, then looked back out the window.

“The Mand’alor’s son is Force sensitive.” Luke squeezed the cup he held so tightly that he could hear it groaning under the pressure. “He has--he’s so gifted, but he’s terrified to use his abilities because he doesn't want to get taken away from his father.” Luke blinked, then looked back at Anakin. “Do you have any idea what that's like? He’s just a child, and he’s so scared of these wonderful things he can do because he doesn’t want us to take him from his father.”

Anakin at least had the grace to look away.

“We’ve changed--I know that we’ve changed, but they don’t.” Luke continued. He set his cup down, stood from the bed, continued to press harder. “They still live with the stories of Mand’alor the Sorrowful. They still live with the guilt of not being able to save her child--” Luke’s voice caught in his throat. “--and what about us? Deanne died, and we don’t feel guilt over that?”

Anakin frowned.

Luke knew that his father had just completed his own training when Deanne pushed her own saber through her chest. Then his Master disappeared, and Anakin was thrown into the front lines of this war as Mand’alor the Sorrowful fought endless days and nights to get her daughter's body back home.

To be able to say a proper goodbye.

“That wasn’t--what happened to her wasn’t anyone’s fault--”

“But it was our fault, dad!” Luke snapped. “The Jedi stole her! The Mand’alor warned them what would happen and they took her from her mother anyway! They stomped all over her Creed and heritage and expected her to--to be a Jedi! And Din is terrified that we’re going to take his child away from him and do the same damn thing!”

Anakin was silent for a moment, and then, “Din?”

“Yes, Din.” Luke was yelling now, but he could hardly bring himself to care. Whatever panic had filled him had gone when the sun rose, leaving him angry and frustrated and desperate to ensure his Clan’s safety. “Because the big scary Mand’alor has a name, and a child and a husband and—and he’s sweet and kind and he can’t even fight in this stupid war because if he dies his people have nothing! He has to watch while he sends his people out to die, knowing that he can’t help them!”

“The Mand’alor isn’t married--”

“I married him!” Luke yelled. He cut his father off before he could even finish. “I’m his husband!”

Anakin went deathly still. “You what?”

Luke snapped his mouth shut, took a step back as he realized what he said. He bumped into Artoo, who whirled and beeped in alarm.

“You married him?” Anakin stood. His voice came out strangled, like he was caught in a choke hold. “You--did he force you--”

“No!” Luke gathered himself back together at that, pushed away his panic. “No, dad, he didn’t--he took care of me when I crashed. He gave me a place to stay and he--he asked me and I said yes. Because I love him.” Luke stood a little taller, tried to loom over his father even though he just barely reached Anakin’s chin. “Just because they’re a warrior race doesn't mean they’re barbaric.”

Anakin stared at him.

There were so many different emotions flashing across his face that Luke couldn’t even begin to hope to read them.

“You were gone for only a few weeks.” Anakin finally said. “That’s not--Luke, that’s not love.”

That was the wrong thing to say.

“You don’t get to lecture me on love!” Luke didn’t once hesitate as he bit it out. He was going to be in trouble—he was already in trouble, but Luke hurt and ached and he just wanted it to stop--he just wanted someone to listen to him. “You don’t get to marry mom after a month and then tell me that I don’t know what love is! You don’t get to say that I can’t form attachments and then change your mind halfway through my life! You don’t get to tell me who I can and can’t care for!”

Anakin was trying hard to keep his patience, but it was slipping fast. “I knew your mother for more than a month—“

“I don’t fucking care!” Luke’s patience, however, was gone. Had been gone for a while, really. “You still married her as soon as you met her again when you knew you weren’t allowed to! So what right do you have to tell me that I can’t be married--”

“Luke, I’m your father—.”

“What does it matter?” Luke’s voice cracked, and it was not just from how loudly he was yelling. “I’m an adult! I’m--I’m twenty four, you don’t—“

“Go to your room.” Anakin snapped. “Now.”

“This is my room!” Luke snapped it right back.

“Then stay here!’

Luke scowled, reached out with the Force and threw a vase against the wall as Anakin slammed the door shut behind him, leaving Luke alone with shattered glass on the floor. It was a childish move, he knew that, but if Anakin was going to treat him like one then Luke sure as hell was going to act like one.

He grabbed the pillow off the bed and screamed into it.

Ahsoka would tell him to let his emotions go and give them back into the Force, but Luke didn’t want to. Luke wanted to hold onto it, let it stay buried in his chest so he could pull it back out and shove it in the council’s face. So Luke screamed and broke whatever he could deal to part with and screamed again until his voice was gone.

No one came back.

Threepio had stopped into Luke's room for a moment, apologizing and fretting like he always does, passing off a message and an explanation of your father is worried you may try to send a message to Mandalore.

Anakin wasn’t wrong.

Luke was already trying to figure out how to bypass Threepio’s default codes when the droid waddled out of his room and locked the door behind him.

His mother came in to check on him a few moments later. Luke ignored her. Didn’t even look at her. It wasn’t fair to Padme, Luke knew that. It was Anakin he was angry with--the entire council, really-- but Luke was so angry that if he had even tried to speak to his mother he would say things he didn’t mean.

So he sat in silence while Padme took in all the broken things.

“Your father--” She started, then stopped. “Is it true?”

Luke’s silence must have been answer enough for her, because as soon as she came she was gone again. The door still locking behind her.

Luke was up as soon as she was gone, tearing apart his desk.

His private com had been destroyed when he crashed the x-wing, and all his datapads and holos had been cut off from the servers when he turned them on. Luke tossed them aside in his frustration, ignored the resounding cracking noises as he did. He tore apart the drawers, threw everything over his shoulder, and eventually came up with a crumpled piece of paper and a stub of drawing charcoal.

Luke smoothed the paper out as much as he could, chipped the charcoal into a sharp point with the Force, then wrote.

I remember, now, why I was so close to Mandalore.

I had been dreaming of you--of us.

Like Ben’s visions.

The Jedi are planning a siege on Keldabe. I wanted to warn you. I kept seeing you die. That’s what my nightmares were about. And I couldn’t bear to see so many innocent lives lost because of something that they had no part in. This war is not your fault, nor is it my people’s. The people who started this are gone, lost to history, and I was tired of repeating their mistakes, of seeing others repeat their mistakes. I wanted to put an end to this, to find some middle ground between us.

I guess that middle ground was you. Or maybe it was me.

Or both of us. Maybe that was what the Force was trying to show me.

Bo-Katan was right, in the end. I am a Jedi. But if this is what it means, that I can’t see you because of who I am, then I wish I could forget again. Being with you was the happiest I’d been in a long time.

Luke had to set the charcoal down.

His vision has grown too blurry.

--

Padme stormed down the halls of the palace, towards the study Anakin used to talk privately with the council.

She understood now, why her son was so full of pain and sorrow.

The doors cracked as Padme shoved them open. It wouldn’t surprise her if she had chipped some of the molding. The holograms of the council members paused as she stormed in. Some looked meek, their holos flickering. Others stood tall and stoic, but Anakin easily stepped aside to let Padme have their full attention.

“I’m afraid that this is no longer a matter for the Jedi to handle alone.” she cut right to the point.

One of the masters frowned. “Your highness, with all due respect--”

“Naboo has become directly involved in your war.” Padme barreled on. She would not give them a chance to speak. Not when it had cost them this. “I will be stepping in, and I will be reaching out to the Mand’alor.” She scowled. “You’re lucky I even gave you warning.”

Then she reached forward and turned the holocall off.

Once the silence had settled back into the room, she turned to Anakin and quietly asked, “What did you say to Luke?”

Anakin swallowed, looked away.

“Anakin.”

Her husband didn’t look at her, and Padme, not willing to wait for an answer, spun on her heel and marched out of the room. Still, even with her near non existent Force sensitivity, she could feel Anakin’s guilt like it was her own.

--

Luke was clutching the letter in his hands and staring out the window when he heard the lock on the door start to jerk and click.

A moment later the door was swinging open, and Han was rushing into the room and scooping Luke up into a hug so tight that it stole what little breath he still had. Leia trailed after him a moment later, quietly closing the door behind her. It took a moment for Luke to realize that this was Han, because last he knew his sister's husband was all the way across the galaxy.

But that had been weeks ago.

“Leia called--I came as soon as I could--” Han pulled back, held Luke’s face in his hands for a moment before gripping his shoulders as he looked him over. “Kriff, kid, are you okay?”

Luke didn’t think he could answer without breaking down again, so he stayed silent.

“Yeah, dumb question,” Han guided Luke back onto the bed, keeping a hand on his shoulder. Leia sat next to him, bumping her shoulder against Luke’s and staying pressed against his side. She eyed the letter curiously, but didn’t say anything.

“I told dad.” Luke said softly.

“Oh, Luke—“ Leia reached forward, drawing him into another hug.

Luke held her tight. He felt like he was going to be sick. “Leia I can't—he’s going to die if I don’t stop the siege—“

Luke cut himself off, bit back the tears that wanted to fall. He couldn’t do anything--he had been cut off from the holoserver, his doors were locked, and everyone was so scared of setting him off that they were tiptoeing around his room and sending droids in instead. What made it worse was that Luke could understand it--they were at war, and Luke was a liability.

He didn’t even have his saber anymore.

They had given it to Ahsoka when they shipped him back off to Naboo.

“I just need to warn him--” Luke started, but he couldn’t get the words to leave his mouth no matter how hard he tried. So he fell silent and clung to Leia just a little bit tighter.

“Then I’ll go to Mandalore.” Han said.

Luke pulled back from Leia just as she jerked her head up to look at him. “Han, are you crazy--?”

“ ‘course I am, worshipness,” Han gave her a crooked smile. “That’s why you like me.”

Luke’s heart jumped up to his throat, settling like a heavy stone. “Han, I can't ask you to--”

“You’re not askin’ me kid, I’m offering. That’s why you wrote that letter, right?” He nodded towards the crumpled paper in Luke’s hand. Luke pulled it closer to his chest. He hadn’t told them he had even written on the paper, but Han was always eerily good and being able to read Luke. “If I leave now I can be there by tomorrow morning.”

“Han--” Leia started.

But Luke was already placing the letter in Han’s hands before he could think any better of it. He hesitated for a moment before he slipped the signet off his neck, squeezing it in his hand once before giving that to Han too.

“Give it to Din,” Luke said softly. “He’ll know.”

Han didn’t ask him to clarify. He just nodded, pressed a kiss to Luke’s forehead and another to Leia’s cheek, and then he was hurrying out of the room and taking Luke’s heart with him.

Chapter Text

The ship that was entering Mandalore’s atmosphere was old, looking ready to fall apart at any moment, and very obviously Republic.

Din let them land.

“Are you insane?” Bo-Katan was jogging to catch up to Din, blaster already out and ready in her hand as they walked up to the shipping docks. Din had seen the ship starting it’s descent just as the sun was beginning to rise, and he rose from his throne and hurried towards the docks without a word to the Clan leaders he had been speaking to. Cara and Ben had followed after him and were trailing behind them--Cara with her hand resting on her own blaster, Ben with his hands tucked behind his back. “Din, you have no idea who this is--”

Din silenced her with a look.

Grogu cooed softly in the birikad, peeking his head out to see what was going on. He had clung to Din ever since Luke was taken, his little fingers holding fast and tight to Din’s clothing and only letting go when he was pried off. Ben had done what he could to help soothe the child, but in the end it had just been easier for Grogu to stay close--easier for both of them.

“Lu?” Grogu asked softly, tilting his head up at Din.

Din swallowed, watched the ship as it landed. He lifted a hand, placing it on Grogu’s back and holding tight. “I don’t know, ad’ika.”

“It’s not him,” Ben came to stand next to Din. He offered a comforting hand on Din’s shoulder, smiling tightly before looking back at the ship. “But whoever is on that ship will take you to him.”

Din’s heart jumped to his throat, but before he could ask Ben what he meant the ship's loading doors were opening and a man was stumbling out. He looked exhausted, nearly asleep on his feet, and when he spotted the five of them he paused. His eyes widened as he took them all in, finally stopping on Din. His eyes flicked to his pauldron--to the signet--and Din watched as something like recognition filled his face.

“Uh--” He stood a little straighter and cleared his throat.

Bo-Katan shoved herself in front of Din. She pointed her blaster at the man with a startling swiftness, and he threw his hands up nearly as fast. “Who are you? Why are you here?”

“Han Solo! I need to talk to him--” He blurted his name out, clearly startled by Bo-Katan’s outward aggression, but he never once looked away from Din. “I have something for you. From Luke.”

Din, who’s heart had been firmly lodged in his throat from earlier Ben’s words, quickly dropped back to his chest. “Luke?” Din gently nudged Bo-Katan aside, coming to stand beside her. She kept her blaster trained on Han, unwavering. “Is he alright? Is he safe?”

Han shifted on his feet. “He’s safe, but, uh, I wouldn’t say he’s alright.” Then he thrust something forward before Din could properly process his response. “Just read this.”

Din eyed it. It was a letter, crumpled and water stained.

“He asked me to give you this, too,” Han held something else out to Din, and with a twisting stomach he realized it was Luke’s signet. There was blood on it. It was dried and brown and brittle, but still blood. Din swallowed back something bitter. It burned his throat and tongue. “He said you would understand.”

Han sounded uncertain when he said it.

Din stared at the necklace for a moment, then jerked forward and took both the pendant and the letter.

Han stepped back and raised his hands again as Bo-Katan stepped forward, blaster still pointed at his chest.

Gorug whined and reached for the pendant. Din held it tightly in his hand for a moment before giving it to his son. Gorug let out a little broken cry, gently butting the pendant against his forehead before holding it up for Din to do the same. Din’s chest tightened. Grogu whined again, insistent, and Din obliged his son, bumped his forehead against Luke’s pendant.

Then he pulled back, took in a shaky breath, and unfolded the letter.

It wasn’t long, but the handwriting was shaky and the charcoal had started to smudge. It took a moment for Din to get through it, to push down his bitter realization that Luke had been crying when he wrote this, to work his way through finally knowing what Luke had been so terrified of--why he hadn’t wanted to remember. He read the last line over and over, his hold on the paper tightening enough to nearly rip it.

You promised to bring me back home. I know you think I didn’t remember that, but I do.

Din looked up, looked at Luke’s signet, still in Grogu’s little hands.

“...the Jedi are planning a siege on Keldabe,” he finally said. “Luke came to Mandalore to warn us.”

Bo-Katan whipped around, her eyes wide. “They’re what?”

Han looked just as surprised at the news.

“Son of a bitch--” Cara bit out a few curses in a few different languages. Ben lifted a hand to place on her shoulder and calm her.

“Did you know about this?” Bo-Katan rounded back on Han.

Han shook his head. “I knew they wanted to attack Mandalore but I didn’t--I didn’t realize they were going for Keldabe--”

“Where is Luke right now?” Din stepped forward and pushed Bo-Katan back, biting at her in rapid fire Mando’a to lower her blaster. He ignored her indigent sputtering and kept his attention on Han. Grogu let out a distressed whine, holding tighter to Luke’s pendant. “Coruscant?”

“Naboo.”

“Then that’s where you’re taking me.” Din said.

Bo-Katan spun back on her heel to Din. “What? Din, you just—“

“If I can get to Luke, there’s a chance I can stop it.” Din kept his voice calm, even though it felt like his heart was going to crawl out of his throat. They could defend Keldabe, Din knew that, but he had refused to bring this war home when he first took the throne, and he refused to do so now.

Cara frowned. “Din, you can’t—there’s no way the Jedi will let you get anywhere near Coruscant even with Luke—“

“He won’t go to Coruscant.” Ben gently cut her off. “He’ll go to Naboo, and I’ll go to Coruscant.”

They all turned to look at Ben.

“I can’t ask you to do that--” Din started, but Ben cut him off with a gentle smile and a shake of his head.

“You’re not. I’m going to go regardless of what you say.” While Ben’s tone was soft and calm, it left very little room for argument. Din almost felt like he was a child again, getting lectured by the Armorer after getting into something he shouldn’t have. “It’s been a while since I’ve made a grand entrance.”

--

There was a very loud commotion coming from outside Luke’s door.

Luke slowly got up from his spot by the window, stepping over the broken things he had yet to clean. Leia had stayed with him all last night, having to slip out early in the morning to explain away Han’s absence to Anakin and Padme. She hadn’t come back since, and now the sun was nearly set.

He reached the door, jumping back as it was flung open.

“Is it true?” Ahoska came bustling in, Mace storming in after her and Anakin rushing after the both of them. “Did you marry the Mand’alor?”

“It doesn’t matter if it’s true,” Mace was speaking before Luke could even respond. “It holds no ground here.”

“It does on Mandalore!” Ahsoka snapped back.

Anakin bit out a sigh. “Can we not--”

“All of you! Out!” and then Padme came sweeping into the room, her dress billowing out behind her like a swarm of fire bugs. She gently pushed Anakin aside, then firmly planted her hands on Mace’s shoulders and shoved him back out of the room. The Jedi stumbled back, surprised, but he recovered quickly. Like nothing had happened.

“This is a Jedi matter--”

“He is my son before he is a Jedi,” Padme snapped. Luke took a step back as his mother advanced on Mace, looming over him even though she just barely cleared his chest. He had not seen his mother this furious in a very long time. “This is not a Jedi matter, nor has it ever been a Jedi matter, and if you’re not off my planet in the next ten seconds I will throw you off of it.”

“Padme--” Ahsoka started, but was quickly cut off.

“When I said all of you I meant all of you.” She turned her glare towards Ahsoka, who took a surprised step back. “Until you can all get your heads out of your ass, I don’t want to even look at you.”

Mace looked like he was getting ready to argue, but before he could Threepio pushed his way past the crowd, looking entirely out of breath even though he didn’t breathe.

“My Lady, Master Han has just docked in your private port in the Falcon--” Threepio turned his head to look at Luke. “The Mand’alor is with him.”

There was a moment of silence as the news sank in.

Luke was the first to move.

He ducked between his mother and father, darted past Mace and Ahsoka, and took off down the hall in a sprint. He could hear shouting behind him, but he didn’t even dare to turn his head back to look to see if anyone was following after him. Luke cut through the gardens, darted past Leia who was already waiting for them, and then--

“Din!”

Din stumbled back as he caught Luke, spinning them around to break the momentum from Luke’s running.

“Luke--” Din steadied them, held Luke’s face in his hands before pressing their foreheads together and letting out a shaky breath. “Cyar’ika--are you alright? Did they hurt you?”

“I’m okay--” Luke couldn’t quite hold back the laugh that spilled from his lips. “I’m okay.”

Din pulled back just enough to work his helmet off, letting it fall into the grass as he cupped Luke’s face again. He smiled softly, ran his thumb just underneath Luke’s eye, brushing away a tear he hadn’t realized he had cried. Din looked beautiful in Naboo’s sunset. “Grogu’s with Cara--I left your signet with him.”

Luke grinned, laughed again, and reached up to kiss him.

“Luke!” Padme’s voice carried across the open air.

Din broke the kiss to look up while Luke turned his head. Anakin had hung back by Leia, eyes wide as he looked at them. Ahsoka was standing just behind him, eyes just as wide. Padme was still heading towards them with an expression that Luke couldn’t quite read, and Mace was right behind her, hand hovering over his saber.

Luke didn’t even think.

He reached out towards Ahsoka, ripped his saber from her belt with the Force, breaking away from Din and lighting up his blade just as Mace drew his. Their sabers met in a clash of sparks.

“Back off,” Luke spit it out as he shoved Mace back.

Anakin jerked into motion. He rushed over, hand hovering over his own saber as he pulled Mace away from them. Luke stumbled back, his sleepless nights and exhaustion from the past few days slammed into him all at once. Din lunged forward and caught him, and the last thing Luke saw before he blacked out was the brown of Din’s eyes.

--

When Luke woke, he thought, for a moment, he was on Mandalore.

Din was there, sitting beside his bed with his hands clasped together and his elbows resting on his knees. He was looking at Luke, lips in a think line and eyes swimming with worry. It took him a moment to even realize Luke was awake, and then he was quickly moving, scooting closer to the bed and reaching forward to gently lay his hands on Luke’s cheeks.

“Oh, thank stars—“ Din ducked his head down and pressed his forehead to Luke’s. Luke lifted up a hand to gently hold the back of Din’s head, digging his fingers in his hair.

“What happened?” Luke asked quietly. He felt groggy. Nauseous.

“You passed out,” Din said. “When you challenged that other Jedi—you just—“

Din cut himself off.

“I’m okay,” Luke smiled. He took a hold of Din’s hand, squeezed it gently before placing it over his chest and right above his heart. He held it there, so Din could feel Luke’s heart beating strong and steady. “See? I'm okay.”

“You gave us all quite the scare.”

Luke blinked, pulled away from Din so he could look at Leia. She was sitting in a chair at the end of the bed, arms crossed as she looked at them.

“He is handsome, Luke, I'll give you that.” Leia said. Then, “Han is outside with Chewy. Mom sent Mace and Dad to Coruscant, but Ahsoka is still here. They’re keeping them under control."

Luke nodded slowly. Han must have called Chewy back to Naboo after Luke had passed out. He hummed, then reached down to push himself up into a sitting position. He was getting awful tired of waking up in strange places. “Why did I pass out this time?”

“I don’t know,” Din frowned and held out a hand to steady Luke. “They didn’t want to tell us until you woke up.”

“I’ll get the nurse droid,” Leia said.

Luke watched her duck into one of the back rooms, then looked back to Din.

“Your sister got me in here,” Din answered his unspoken question, reaching up to brush Luke’s hair out of his face. “Yelled at everyone until they ran off--I think she’s more stubborn than you are.”

“Does she scare you, Mand’alor?” Luke teased.

“Terrifies me,” Din smiled, leaning down to softly kiss him.

Luke sighed happily, lifting his hands back up to tangle his fingers in Din’s hair. He missed this--missed him so much that it had hurt.

“Prince Amidala, I’m glad to see you awake,” the nurse droid came waddling in--she was a protocol droid, like Threepio, but far less high strung. “You have no need for concern. You only overexerted yourself. Your body simply shut down to try and recover from the excess strain you’ve put on it this past week.” Leia came back into the room as the nurse droid came to a stop next to the bed. “You should be making sure to get plenty of rest, after all, considering your condition.”

Luke blinked. “My condition?”

The nurse droid made a full body nod. “You are with child, after all.”

Luke stared dumbly, and an odd choking sound left Din’s mouth.

“Excuse me?” Leia’s voice came out sounding strangled.

The nurse droid didn’t seem bothered by it.

“While it is unusual for those transitioning to the male gender to get pregnant, it’s not impossible.” The nurse droid explained it pleasantly, busting about the bedside table. “You are not far along, Prince Amidala. Only two weeks.”

Luke blinked.

His brain couldn’t seem to catch up.

“Of course, given your transition, you are at a higher risk for complications,” the droid continued. “I’ll schedule you for regular check in’s, but the current scans show things to be progressing along in perfect health.”

The droid turned to look at him and tilted her head. “Is everything alright?’

Luke stared at her, then snapped back to Din.

Din was looking at Luke’s stomach.

“Are you mad?” Luke blurted it out. His heart fluttered against his ribs.

Din blinked, shook his head. He looked back up, then gently cupped Luke’s cheeks in his hand and pressed their foreheads together. “No, cyar’ika. No, I’m—I'm the furthest thing from it.”

Chapter Text

Anakin’s head hurt, but his heart ached far more.

The council had been civil at first when Anakin had broken the news of his son’s marriage. Civil, but angry.

They had been talking for hours, trying to work out the logistics and loopholes of a Mandalorian marriage, discussing how binding it was, if it held up under Naboo and Jedi law. But then Padme had called, none too gently broke the news that Luke, apparently, had gotten knocked up with the Mand’alor’s kid. Now Naboo had to get involved in this war, and Padme had made it very clear that she would be seeking out a treaty with the Mand’alor regardless of the council's input. She had looked at Anakin as she said it, and Anakin’s guilt threatened to choke him.

He wanted to go back home.

He wanted to see his son, to hold him close and apologize for his words. He hadn’t meant them, but he had been scared and worried and had no idea what was going on with his son and Luke wouldn’t tell him--

“We cannot leave a Jedi child in the care of the mandalorians!”

Anakin didn’t know who said it. He had stopped paying attention to the individual voices a while ago.

The council seemed far more concerned over the future of an unborn child than they did with Naboo’s broken neutrality and subsequent siding with Mandalore.

Anakin thought briefly of Deanna as the arguing started up again. He thought of the stories she used to tell him about her home on the nights they spent together in the temple, the stories of her family and her mother. He thought of that far away look she always got in her eyes, how she would always look to the stars, like she was trying to find home in that vast expanse of sky. Anakin thought how foolish he had been to not recognize what it was sooner.

“The Mand’alor’s son is force sensitive.” Anakin said suddenly.

The arguing and squabbling fell silent.

“The Mand’alor has a son?” Plo asked. He sounded genuinely baffled.

“Aware of this, we were not.” Yoda sounded almost angry.

Anakin remembered his argument with Luke, the words his son had thrown at him like a weapon. Do you have any idea what that’s like?

But Anakin did know, because he remembered when Luke and Leia were still babies, smiling and laughing as they made objects float up to the ceiling, as they clapped and said daddy look! And Anakin had been afraid. He had been so afraid. Afraid the council would find out about his children, would take them away from him because attachments still weren’t allowed, because back then Anakin still had to hide Padme, still had to pretend he didn’t love with his whole heart and then some.

Anakin did know what that was like.

“I wonder why.” Anakin frowned as he looked at Yoda, narrowed his eyes and tapped his fingers against his thigh. “Do you not remember Deanna? Do you not remember her mother begging you for her body?”

There was a shift in the room. It grew cold.

Uncomfortable.

No one could forget that.

Mand’alor the Sorrowful had fought for days, sieging Coruscant with all she had. And then she got in, and instead of fighting she fell to her knees in the council room, where Anakin stood now, removed her helmet, painted in a newly fresh coat of grey and gold, and begged Yoda to give her her daughter's body back, begged Yoda to let her send her daughter off on her next journey with a proper goodbye.

All Yoda could give her was charred bones.

“Unfortunate, it was.” Yoda looked away from Anakin. “But our fault, it was not.”

Anakin bristled. Anger grew in his stomach, hot and heavy, because Luke had been right. They were not blameless in what happened to Deanna and they were not blameless in this war. “How the hell is that not—?”

“She chose to end her life, not us.” Someone else said. Anakin didn’t look to see who it was. “We are not here to discuss the past, Master Skywalker—“

“No, because apparently we’re here to discuss an unborn child—” Anakin spit out. “—and my son’s life instead of this kriffen war--”

“I think,” a new voice cut in, gently cutting Anakin off before he could finish. “That you’ve done enough arguing for the day.”

Anakin whipped around to see who it was. His eyes widened, and he couldn’t quite help the surprised gasp that slipped from his lips.

“Obi-Wan?”

Obi-Wan didn’t look at him. He stood in the now open doorway of the council room, his gaze firmly fixed on Yoda. He looked older, more regal. Grey was only just starting to streak his hair. He wore armor with a helmet tucked in the crook of his arm, painted with soft whites and striking golds and deep blues. His saber still hung from his hip. Obi-Wan looked like he had walked right out of the stories of knights and princes Anakin’s mother used to tell him, and as he walked towards Yoda, Anakin and the others who were standing on the council floor moved out of his way.

“Master Kenobi.” Yoda greeted. He looked Obi-Wan over, but Anakin couldn’t read the Grand Master’s expression. “Glad to see you alive, I am.”

“I wish I could say the same.”

Yoda looked taken aback.

“We thought you were dead.” Mace said.

“I’m afraid not,” Obi-Wan answered. He glanced at Mace. “Although, it certainly wasn’t for a lack of effort on your part.”

The silence in the room grew tense.

“You’ve been on Mandalore?” Plo asked.

“No. I’ve been in the Mandalorian settlement on Tatooine with my wife and son. Then I went to Mandalore.” someone took in a sharp breath, and it took a moment for Anakin to realize that it had been him. Obi-Wan spared a glance at him. Anakin held his gaze for a moment before looking away. “I wish you had told me attachments are allowed now. Would have saved me the trouble of leaving the Order.”

“Left us, you would have anyway.”

Obi-Wan snapped his head back to Yoda. “You’re right. I would have.” he paused for a moment, then scowled. “You are arguing over who gets to keep Luke like he’s a child’s toy. He’s an adult--a person who is more than capable of making his own decisions.”

“It's not just Luke’s life anymore.” Mace stepped in. “The Prince is with child—“

“And you don’t get a say over that life either.” Obi-Wan snapped back. “That child is Luke’s and my Mand’alor’s—not yours.”

Anakin did not miss the way Obi-Wan said my Mand’alor, and neither did Yoda.

“Sworn the Mandalorian creed, have you?”

“I have.” Obi-Wan said. He didn’t linger on it, didn’t give anyone the chance to let that information sink in before he continued. “Do you really think that the Mandalorians will let you take another one of their children? You have already stolen our Mand’alor’s husband—the only reason we haven’t stormed Coruscant yet is because our Mand’alor asked us not to.”

Anakin’s stomach twisted and turned.

“Luke is not a Mandalorian—“

“He is to us.” Obi-Wan easily cut off whoever had been speaking. “If he wants to stay on Naboo, then we’ll respect that choice, but it’s a choice that Luke has to make.”

Obi-Wan looked at Yoda for a long time.

No one else spoke.

“My Mand’alor keeps fighting this war to keep his people safe, to keep you from taking his child. But why do you keep fighting this war?” he finally asked. “What do you gain from this? What do you gain from sending people to die?”

“Struck us first, the Mandalorians did—“

“Because you stole a Mando’ad!” Obi-Wan snapped out. The shock of Obi-Wan speaking the odd language rippled throughout the room. “You stole an ad—a child. That's not a legacy anyone wants to preserve.” Obi-Wan paused, took in a deep breath. “You could have reached out to them, offered a peace treaty, explained that you’ve apparently changed your ways, but you haven’t.”

The silence that filled the room was so heavy that it was painful.

A few glanced at Anakin, but Anakin didn’t dare look at them.

The Jedi had changed, and they had changed because of Anakin. His marriage had been discovered, his children exposed, and in his fear and desperation Anakin fought to keep them with him and forgot that Obi-Wan left for the very same reason.

And now Luke has fallen into that hole Anakin had dug.

“You’ve always been too prideful, Master Yoda.” Obi-Wan finished. “I thought war might have humbled you, but it seems I was wrong.”

Yoda looked at Obi-Wan. His face was blank.

“Force sensitive, Luke’s child may be.” He finally said. “Trained to control it, it must be.”

“You’re right. Luke’s child may be Force sensitive, but they will be a Mandalorian. Just as my son is, just as the Mand’alor’s son is, and just like Deanna was.” Obi-Wan narrowed his eyes. “You can’t ignore that. Not this time.”

--

Luke was sitting out on the balcony connected to his room, looking up at the moon and the stars. The sky wasn’t as clear here as it was on Mandalore. It was too full of haze from Theed’s lights.

“Can you see Mandalore from here?” Luke asked.

Din hummed softly. He had his arm around Luke’s shoulders, holding him close as they looked up at the stars. “Probably, but I couldn’t tell you which one is Mandalore.”

They had been left alone ever since Luke left the medbay.

He was sure Han and Leia had something to do with it, and Luke made a note to thank them later.

Luke laughed quietly, ducking his head down before resting it on Din’s shoulder, right over his pauldron. He lifted his hand to gently touch the mudhorn signet. The beskar was cool against his cheek, a welcomed reprieve from the hot summer air. The two of them fell into a comfortable silence, broken only by the chirps and trills of the night bugs.

“What do we do now?” Luke asked quietly.

He knew that Ben was on Coruscant.

Padme had been on holocalls with him ever since he told his mother he was pregnant. She had not said anything to him when he told her, only looked at him and Din before spinning on her heel and leaving the room.

Luke only knew that she had called the council because he could hear her yelling.

Padme had come back once, when the sun had started to set and Luke and Din had migrated to the balcony.

She had sat on the bench across from them, looked at Din with heavy eyes and slumped shoulders.

“Why did you marry my son?” she had asked.

Din had bristled, scooted closer to Luke. “I married him because I love him”. He had snapped it out, defensive and frightened. “Forgive my bluntness, Queen Amidala, but I don't need to give you another reason.”

“No,” Padme said slowly. “I suppose you don’t.”

Then she stood and left again, leaving Din and Luke to watch the moon rise and the stars dot the sky.

“I don’t know,” Din mumbled. He looked at Luke, leaned down to press a kiss to his temple. “What do you want to do, cyar’ika?”

Luke stayed silent for a moment before he answered. “I want to go home.”

“Then I’ll take you home.”

Chapter Text

Luke could feel Ahsoka from the moment she walked into the garden. Even though Luke hadn’t been a padawan in years, their training bond was still strong.

He didn’t leave his spot from underneath the pear trees. He sat and waited for her to find him, plucking grass and wildflowers from the dirt as his nerves got the better of him. Din wasn’t here. He was with his mother--had been carted off just as morning broke, leaving Luke alone. Luke would have gone with them, had tried to go with him, but he had been feeling nauseous all morning, and both Din and Leia had ganged up on him and told him to sit outside and in the fresh air.

Luke would never tell them that it had worked.

“May I sit?” Ahsoka asked.

Luke nodded and scooted over to free up more room on the little grassy mound beneath the tree.

Ahsoka sat next to him, leaving a good distance between them.

“Your mother was the same way,” she said. She smiled softly when Luke looked at her with a tilted head. “She always got sick in the morning when she was pregnant with you and Leia. Not that she ever let that stop her--I remember her ducking out of plenty of senate meetings to go throw up. Nearly gave Anakin a heart attack every time.”

Luke couldn’t quite hold back his laugh. “Yeah--that sounds like mom.”

He fell silent and looked back to his hands. He was holding one of the wildflowers, the petals nearly crushed to a pulp from his fidgeting. “I crashed,” he said before he could think better of it. “On purpose.”

Luke could feel Ahsoka’s surprise through their bond, but she stayed silent.

“I--I’d been having dreams. About Din.” it felt odd, saying it out loud, after having kept it secret for so long. “I had dreams about this whole other life. I saw myself on the mandalorian throne, standing by Din. I saw myself in my own mandalorian armor. I had the mudhorn on my shoulder--I saw my children in armor. There--there were three of them. I saw Din’s son and another boy and a--a girl. All three of them wore the mudhorn. And--” Luke curled his knees up to his chest, leaning forward and resting his chin on his knees. He wrapped his arms around his legs and held tight. The boy had Luke’s saber and the girl held the darksaber, but her armor, as dark as the blade she carried, had first been Luke's.

Grogu had still been young in Luke’s dreams. He had been too young for his own saber and his own armor, would be too young for a long time.

“I didn’t understand it, not until the council announced the siege.” Luke continued. “Then all I dreamed about was Din dying and I--I knew I had to get to Mandalore.”

“That’s why you asked to go on the scouting mission.” Ahsoka didn’t ask it, and she left the rest of it unsaid. Luke crashed because they were still at war, because he would have been shot out of the sky if he didn’t do it himself, because he knew that if there were even a chance he were still alive then the council would push back the siege to rescue him, because he knew if he crashed he could buy himself more time.

Luke nodded.

Ahsoka stayed silent for a long time.

“Why didn’t you say anything?” she finally asked.

Luke looked up at her with a frown tugging at the corner of his lips. He gestured around them, then to himself. “Because you reacted like this.”

He could feel Ahsoka’s guilt just as much as he could see it.

“You always say that the Force will do whatever it can to bring people together--” Luke continued. “--people who belong together. I was just listening to what it was saying.” Luke paused, taking a moment to look Ahsoka over. She had hunched in on herself, looking away from Luke. “I get that you were worried about me, but this is my decision to make.”

“I know it is,” Ahsoka mumbled. She looked up then, letting out a breath, then reached forward to brush Luke’s hair out of his face. “I--you’re not my little one anymore.”

Luke shook his head. “No. I’m not.”

Ahsoka drew her hand back. She took in a deep breath and let it out. Then she smiled softly, and something warm settled in their bond.

“He makes you happy.”

“He does.” Luke agreed. “He--he makes me so happy.”

Ahsoka blinked slowly, her fingers curling to her palm. “...you haven’t been happy in a very long time.”

Luke swallowed back something bitter and shook his head, and when Ahsoka reached forward and pulled him into a tight hug, Luke didn’t fight it. He may not be her padawan anymore, but she would always be his teacher.

“I’m sorry,” Ahsoka murmured. “I’m so sorry, Luke.”

She was apologizing for a lot of things, and Luke found it wasn't difficult to forgive her for each and every one.

--

The treaty Padme presented to Din was a simple one. It was more of a statement, really. Naboo would ally itself with Mandalore and come to their aid should this war continue.

Simple, but effective.

“We can get more into specifics once you can get your advisors here--” Padme slid the data pad across the desk to Din, her loopy signature standing out like a beacon. “--but it will let the Jedi council know I'm serious about this.”

Din picked up the data pad.

He looked at that loopy cursive for a long time.

“You would really break your neutrality for this?” he finally asked.

“I would do a lot of things for my son.” Padme answered easily. Then, “We both would.” she smiled softly, and in that moment Din couldn’t see the queen that sat in front of him. All he could see was a mother, proud and protective and strong. “I think if Luke asked you to tear the sky down, you would.”

Din looked down at the data pad.

He couldn’t disagree.

“What about your husband?”

Padme's smile grew a little more bitter. “My husband already knows I’m doing this.” she paused, closing her eyes for a moment before opening them again. “Anakin wants what any father wants--for his children to be happy.” then, “It may not seem like it, Mand’alor, but Anakin is just as tired of this war as you and your people are. It’s kept him from home for too long.”

Din didn’t answer Padme with words.

He picked up the pen, held it for a moment between his fingers, then signed the pad.

--

Anakin had gotten kicked out of the council room.

They had kicked Obi-Wan out, and then they kicked Anakin out, and now he was standing in the middle of the hall and watching Obi-Wan look, as always, like the picture of calmness. It was so strange to be standing here with Obi-Wan again, and Anakin almost felt sick from it.

“So, you got married?” Anakin asked, then immediately wanted to hit himself.

Obi-Wan looked at him. Anakin used to be able to read his face so easily, but now it was just a blank slate. “So did you.”

Anakin swallowed back something bitter. “Yeah. I did.”

It seemed so trivial now, that this is what they had fought over. Anakin’s obvious attachment to Padme, Obi-Wan’s fascination with Satine, that Anakin had tried to be a proper Jedi and push away his attachment, that Obi-Wan had gotten tired of the rigid structure and the hypocrisy of the order.

“I didn’t leave because of you, Anakin.” Obi-Wan spoke suddenly. Softly.

Anakin blinked, crossed his arms high over his chest and closed himself off. Just like when he had been a child. “Kinda seems like you did.”

He remembered so vividly the last words he said to Obi-Wan--that he screamed at Obi-Wan.

Then why don’t you just leave?

“Anakin,” Obi-Wan repeated his name again, softer this time. He stepped closer, waiting until Anakin looked at him before he lifted a hand and placed it on Anakin’s shoulder. Anakin jolted at the touch, but he leaned into it just as quickly. “I left because of Deanna--because the order was willing to start a war rather than admit they were in the wrong.”

He paused, squeezing Anakin’s shoulder before letting go.

“I only wish I could have taken you with me.” he finished.

Anakin’s throat felt tight. “I don’t know--I think I did pretty good for myself.” he paused and swallowed around a lump at the back of his tongue. “Managed to get rid of that no attachments rule.”

Obi-Wan cracked a smile, but neither of them got the chance to speak again.

The door to the council chambers opened. Yoda looked between the two of them, pausing on Anakin before looking to Obi-Wan.

“Speak to your Mand’alor, we will.”

--

Din found Luke still sitting in the gardens, under the pear trees.

He had just gotten off a holocall with Satine and Bo-Katan. He had explained the situation and the treaty he just signed, and he had hardly finished his words before Satine was saying she would head to Naboo as soon as she could get a bag packed. There had been no sign of the Jedi anywhere near Mandalore’s sector, but Bo-Katan was still weary to leave, so Satine would be coming alone.

Din hated that he was dragging both Ben and Satine into this now, but he had little option left.

“I’m thinking Rey,” Luke spoke as soon as Din sat next to him, turning to look at him with a bright smile. “For a name.”

“Rey?” Din asked.

“Yeah. Like a ray of sunshine.” Luke answered. “That’s what I’ll call her. My ray of sunshine.”

Din didn’t answer for a moment. He took the time to look at Luke, taking in the color that had come back to his cheeks, the way the sun shone in his hair. He took in Luke’s dimples, the faint scar on his jaw, the way his eyes lit up as he spoke.

Din took a moment to take it all in.

“How do you know it’s a girl?” he asked. He held his hand out, smiling softly as Luke took it.

“I just do.”

Chapter Text

“Stop laughing at me.”

“I’m not laughing at you.”

Luke turned to glare at Din, and Din was glad he was wearing his helmet so Luke couldn't see his smile.

His husband was certainly a sight to see. His armor had been completed a few days ago, and while it was breathtaking to finally see Luke wearing it after waiting for so long, he wasn’t the most coordinated in it. His usual agile movements had become clunky and clumsy--although Din was sure some of it had something to do with the baby strapped to his chest.

Rey giggled.

“Don’t you laugh at me either.” Luke looked down to their daughter, who only giggled again.

Luke sighed, then lifted Rey from the birikad and dropped a kiss on her head. Grogu cooed and tottled over, and Luke was quick to kneel down. “I didn’t forget about you, I promise,” he said, dropping another kiss to Grogu’s head. Grogu cooed again, and Luke shifted Rey so he could pick up Grogu in his other arm.

Din’s heart flipped and flopped at the sight.

“Welcome back to Naboo, Mand’alor.”

Din looked away from Luke, still kneeling on the ship's ramp, and up to Satine. She was walking out from the Theed Royal palace and out onto the ship docks with Ben and Korkie following after. Din’s initial treaty with Naboo had gone smoothly. It hadn't grown much more complicated when Satine showed up--Padme had only asked that Mandalore would help in any military situations that should arise, but to make it fair they had opened up trade between the two planets. Din had insisted that the beskar metals were off limits, and Padme had easily agreed.

It was the treaty with the Jedi had--was still--taking longer. It had been a year now since Luke had come home with Din, since Din and the Jedi council had agreed on an armistice, since Satine and Ben had agreed to stay on Naboo in Din’s place to work on the treaty and ensure the council kept the peace.

The war had not ended.

But it would. Din had faith in that.

“Have you been well?” Din greeted Satine with a brief embrace.

“We have,” Satine gave Din a smile. Then she caught sight of Rey, and just as quickly as she had come up to Din she had hurried over to Luke. “And this must be Rey--oh, she’s just precious, isn’t she?”

Rey blinked up at Satine, then giggled.

She was only a few weeks old, but she was already so bright and sociable. She loved meeting new people--something Din insisted she got from Luke, but Luke insisted was just part of being a baby.

Korkie broke off from Ben to stand by his mother. He peered at Rey, tilting his head as he looked her over. “She’s so small.”

“You used to be that small too.” Satine said.

Korkie frowned, like he didn’t believe her.

“She’s got your eyes, Luke,” Ben had come up to join the party, and after greeting both Rey and Grogu he turned to greet Luke. “And you’ve got your own armor.” he tilted his head and smiled. “Should have figured you’d go with black.”

Luke shrugged. “It’s a good color on me.”

“What are you all doing up there?”

“Fawning over your niece.” Ben easily answered Leia.

And then Leia was up on the Crest’s ramp, kneeling next to Luke and gently taking Rey from him. Rey reached for Leia’s braid, which she easily flicked over her shoulder to keep out of the baby’s reach. “Oh, you’re adorable--” Leia kissed Rey’s cheeks, then turned to look at Luke with narrowed eyes. “Should you even be up right now?”

Luke sighed, “Kriffen--I’m fine. I didn’t give birth yesterday Leia.”

“Well, knowing you,” Leia let it hang between them before turning to Din with a bright smile. “Good to see you again, Din.”

“You too, Leia,” Din nodded his head towards her.

“How do you like having a baby around?”

Din shrugged, shifting back and forth on his feet. “Well, I’ve already got two of them.”

“Hey!” Luke turned back to look at Din just as Grogu squealed.

“I only say it because I love you,” Din held out a hand to Luke to help him up. He gently pressed his forehead against Luke’s, then took Grogu from him as he squealed and reached for Din. He settled Grogu back in his arms, then glanced back at Leia. “Where is your mother?”

“Anakin got held up by the Yoda--he knew you two were coming, so he dropped by for a...visit.” Ben answered. “Padme went to get him.”

“You mean she went to go yell at Yoda.” Satine said.

Ben shrugged. “That too.”

--

“This couldn’t have waited?”

Yoda did not seem phased by Anakin’s agitation. The Grand Master sat calmly on the garden bench, eyes trained through the leaves of the flower bushes. If Anakin squinted he could just make out the silver hull of Din’s ship.

“The Mand’alor’s children, I wished to meet.” Yoda said. He spared a glance at Anakin, then smiled. “Strong in the force, they are.”

Anakin scowled. “You’re not training them. Luke made that pretty clear.”

It had seemed so long ago when Din first agreed to meet to the council, when Luke came storming in after the Mand’alor and told the council none too politely that he would be going back to Mandalore with or without their permission. He had told the council that his life was not a bargaining chip and neither were his childrens, and he was going home to his family regardless of what they thought.

And yet Anakin remembered it vividly, despite how long it had been.

He hadn’t seen much of Din and his son since then. Luke had been given strict instructions to stay on Mandalore until Rey was born, and Din hadn’t wanted to leave Luke alone. Obi-Wan and Satine had been handling the negotiations, although Din still managed to visit the council on occasion.

Anakin was excited to see his son again--it had been nearly a year since he’s seen Luke face to face. They called often, but it wasn’t the same.

And, of course, Anakin was beyond excited to meet Rey.

But then Yoda showed up, and Anakin had made a detour to lead the elder Jedi away from the ship ports.

Yoda hummed and didn’t answer. He cocked his head as a branch cracked. Anakin turned to see Padme sweeping up the dirt path. She looked calm and collected, but Anakin could all but feel the agitation rolling off her. “I don’t remember inviting you to my planet, Master Yoda.”

Yoda didn’t seem phased by Padme either. “A treaty, I have. For the Lady Satine and the Mand’alor.” he stood from the bench then, stretching his back before starting back off down the dirt path. He paused when neither Anakin or Padme followed after him, looking back at them with a tilted head. “Coming along, are you?” He smiled again. “Excited, you were, to meet your granddaughter.”

--

Din was weary of Yoda.

He hadn’t seen the older Jedi since he first went into the council chambers. Satine and Ben had done most of the in person dealings with the council, and whenever Din did show up Yoda hadn't been there. Din hadn’t wanted to leave Mandalore once he and Luke returned, the shaky peace between the Jedi still uncertain and unknown. And then Luke, as much as he refused to admit it, needed care and someone constantly with him. His pregnancy had become too high risk, and since Luke was just stubborn enough to refuse to stay in the healing buildings, Din had little choice but to stay on Mandalore.

Yoda hobbled up the garden path towards the Crest, and Din held Grogu a little closer and stepped in front of Luke and Rey.

“Luke.” Yoda stopped a good distance away from Din, giving him a brief nod before turning to Luke. “Your armor, you’ve been given.”

Luke blinked. “Uh--yeah. I got it a few days ago.”

“Is that why you almost fell off the ramp?” Leia asked.

Luke huffed. “I’d like to see you try and walk around in twenty pounds of beskar--”

“Enough, you two.” Padme cut her children off. She swept past Yoda and Anakin and to Luke, where she smiled and cooed over Rey. “Oh, she’s just darling, isn’t she?”

Rey blinked owlishly at Padme, then reached for the long golden earrings she was wearing. Padme lifted her hand and pushed them back as effortlessly as Leia and pulled her hair away from Rey’s hands. “You’re a grabber, hm?” Padme smiled, waiting for Luke’s nod before she scooped Rey up and cuddled the child close to her chest. “Just like your father.”

“Mand’alor,”

Din blinked and turned back to Yoda.

He was looking at Grogu with a curious expression, but was quick to turn his attention back to Din. He reached into his robes and pulled out a datastick. “Kept this too long from you, we have.”

Din eyed it. “What is it?”

“A treaty.” Yoda answered. “Look over it tonight, you and Lady Satine will. Tomorrow, your answer you will give us.” Yoda stepped close enough to give the datastick to Din, then he stepped back. He looked at Grogu again. Grogu cooed and cuddled closer to Din and patted his helmet.

“Buiw.” Grogu said.

Yoda smiled.

“Yes. Buir.” Yoda agreed. He spared a glance at Luke, then looked back to Din. “See you tomorrow, I will.”

Din nodded.

He did not relax his hold on Grogu until Yoda was gone and out of sight.

--

Luke couldn’t sleep.

He was exhausted, and yet sleep eluded him.

Spending time on Naboo with his entire family always tired him out, and Luke still wasn’t back to his full strength yet after he had Rey. But truly, he had grown so used to the quiet nights on Mandalore that he couldn’t sleep through the lights and sounds of Theed anymore.

Luke had learned how to slip out of bed without waking Din, so he left his husband still sleeping as he went to check on Grogu and Rey in the connecting nursery.

Grogu was still fast asleep, but Rey was wide awake.

She giggled when she saw Luke, fighting her way out of her blanket as she reached up for him. Luke smiled and scooped her up, pressing a soft kiss to her temple. She reached up and tugged on his hair, then grabbed a fistful of Luke’s sleepshirt and shoved it in her mouth.

It was so strange to think that someone this small would one day lead an entire planet.

“What are you doing up, cyar’ika?”

“Couldn’t sleep.” Luke answered. He turned to look at Din, smiling softly. “Did I wake you up?”

Din shook his head. His hair was a mess, all ruffled from the pillow and Luke’s own earlier tugging and pulling, and when Din got close enough Luke lifted one of his hands to try and smooth it down. Din let Luke mess with it for a minute before he ducked down and kissed him softly.

Luke hummed.

“Did the treaty look okay?” he asked when Din pulled back. Luke had been busy with getting Rey and Grogu to sleep to look at it, and by the time Din and Satine had finished going over it Luke was already in bed and in no mood to get out.

“It looked fine,” Din’s hands trailed down Luke’s side to his waist.

“No loopholes? No conditions?”

Din shook his head. “Nothing.”

Luke tilted his head and narrowed his eyes. He knew how tricky the council could be, and a treaty with no loopholes seemed almost too good to be real. “I think you should have Ben look over it. And maybe my dad.”

Din hummed and kissed Luke’s cheek. “If that’s what you think.”

“Din--” Luke whined, tilting his head anyway when Din pressed a kiss to his neck. “I’m holding a baby.”

Rey let out a yawn and dropped her head onto Luke’s shoulder.

Din huffed out a quiet laugh. He lifted a hand and gently cupped the back of Rey’s head, running his thumb over her dark brown hair before ducking down to kiss her cheek. Luke wondered if it would be as messy and wild as Din’s.

Rey hummed happily, her eyes slowly drooping shut.

“You know,” Luke started quietly. “When I was having those dreams about you and Mandalore, I saw us with another kid. A boy.”

Din looked sharply up at him. “Are you trying to tell me something?”

Luke blinked, then laughed. “Oh, no--stars no. I love you, Din, but I am not doing this again.” He gestured to Rey, who had already fallen back asleep. “No, I--I think we’re gonna find him. Like you found Grogu.”

Grogu cooed softly at the sound of his name, and then he was sitting up in his own crib and rubbing at his eyes.

Din detangled himself from Luke to go and scoop him up.

“Finn,” Luke said quietly when Din came back. “That’s his name. Finn.”

Din hummed while he adjusted Grogu to a more comfortable hold, then ducked down to press another kiss to Luke’s lips.

“I can’t wait to find him, then.” Din said softly.