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Chapter Text

Arc 1:

Electromagnetism and Repulsion

The battle is loud, fierce and violent. 

There is nothing poetic about the way the Mandalorians try their damn best to tear the Jedi down limb from limb, the disgust and hatred clear in the way they grunt and growl. The shaky anger of their punches ringing loud and clear like an alarm bell in the crowded battlefield. 

Luke had seen this blind hatred towards him before in his youth. It was all he knew to expect from Mandalorians. It never failed to terrify him to his core, that people hated him so much just for being a Jedi, and he always had to meditate his way back to serenity. Obi Wan, his master, and Yoda had both warned him that this fear was the breeding ground to future anger. The path that would lead to atrocities committed in the name of misunderstanding. And eventually, the dark side. 

Which is why he took turns on the battlefield, the Jedi order understanding that allowing this fear of Luke's to grow would be unwise, they decided that his padawan training was best to take place off of the battlefield, for the most part.

Alternatively, he had spent most of his youngling training days in the comforting coolness and tranquility of the Jedi library in the temple on Corosaunt. Master Yoda,  Windu and Nu his only true connection to the war on Mandalore while he trained with his sister and the other younglings. The peace was beautiful, but tense. The unnatural tautness of it all had never grated on his nerves until he had become old enough to realise that it should. To see the peace was strained under the weight of the casualty and loss of the war. At times he almost preferred the chaos of when he watched his mother and father wade into the battlefield as a child, a republic trooper turning his eyes away as the fighting started. 

Luke had had his fair share of the temple texts during his time as a padawan on Mandalore- had devoured them in his haste to become a Jedi to help his mother, father and sister on the battlefield. 

But Yoda had forced him to be patient in his training. Reminding him that no one should rush to the battlefield, and that he needed to study more of the force before someone of his power level was allowed access to all that suffering and pain. 

So Luke was essentially a glorified battlefield repair boy during his padawanship. He'd repair droids, ships and other machinery when absolutely necessary. It could be a bit boring, considering people just abandoned machinery when it failed them mid-battle in order to survive, but Luke still had developed battlefield experience this way. Obi Wan said that the exposure was important so he could realise there were ways to control his fear through competence. 

He could see his father and master fighting at the front line, and doing quite flawlessly. His sister, Leia, and her master Ahsoka were flanking them, doing a spectacular job at keeping the Jedi forces together. So far, they were pushing the Mandalorians back. 

Luke sighed, surveying the field again with his electrobinoculars to ensure no one needed his help. If he was honest, he was restless at this point- he knew he could help turn the tide of the battle if he could just fight, but the Jedi Order did not think he was ready emotionally yet. Sometimes he wondered if just jumping in by himself would expedite that growth process, but Yoda's words came back to him;

Battle... Look forward to, do not, Young Naberrie. Bloodlust for a Jedi, a good trait, it is not.

So instead he played repair boy, Obi Wan allowing him to tag along on the battlefield when he saw fit. Which was starting to be a lot more often, and Luke was glad for that. It showed he was making progress. 

Wait- 

Luke saw something that paused his musings. 

 ...            There. 

Luke jumped up from his perch in the barracks. In the middle of the crush of Jedi and Mandalorians- a Jedi in need of their speeder fixed while they battled a Mandalorian who had knocked them off.  

Checking his lightsaber was still hidden in his boot, Luke picked up his toolkit and rushed into the throng of the battle. 

Din had always been told the Jetii were abominations. Demons. Scourge of the soil they walked on. The many colourful ways the Jetii had been insulted among his creed were as diverse as the people that followed it. 

He had sat silent at the communal feast once in his youth. Had just sat and listened to the conversations surrounding, and wondered what the Jetii had done to be so utterly despised. So absolutely hated. 

Din had asked once, why- and it was always a garbled answer of 'they're unnatural' 'they shouldn't exist,' 'You need to see them to understand. They're killing machines.' It left him feeling like the answer was baseless.

When Din did finally see one, he didn't think any of those things. His first thought was;

How could these people be considered demons? Sure, the sheer power of it is a little scary- but...

He watched in awe as a golden haired one hovered some supplies to be used later from one spot to another with a practiced ease that Din couldn't help but be jealous of. 

Weren't they more angels?

Din was left scratching his head at the misunderstanding of it all. The bewilderment of it all followed him around his whole childhood with the Mandalorians.

But Din was young, back then. He was a foundling that didn't understand the world- he had barely understood why his parents were taken so cruelly from him. 

Din understood now, and the answer never ceased to scare him. 

For awhile, Din had been confused- if fighting skill meant so much to the Mandalorians, why fight the Jetii when they were so clearly above them in skill? Why weren't they respected?

It clicked into place one day, as he saw the fighting from the military war base on Mandalore. 

The Mandalorians were scared of the abilities the Jetii had. The sheer power and scale of the things they could do. Din watched as a Jeti crumpled someone's armour using their abilities with a wince.

That's why they kept yammering on about how they were 'unnatural' or 'abominations.' They didn't hate them for religious reasons, the Mandalorians hated them because they were scared of what the Jetii could do. And rather instead of waiting for the Jetii to initiate a battle and confirm their fears, they initiated one instead to assert dominance and attempt to have the upper hand. In order to control their fear of the Jetii they fought the Jetii- to remind themselves that they could win a fight with these ultra powerful beings if they felt like it. It was a result of their dominating culture that their insecurities and fears were expressed this way. 

Din kept that in mind while watching the destruction on both sides- wondering whether this war was even necessary at all, or if it was just to sate the ignorant fears of a destabilised Mandalore. 

But Din didn't have access to the information about the Jetii, not when the Mandalorians wanted to discourage pro-Jetii sympathies. Any information he did have dehumanised them, described the atrocities of taking children from their families and forcing others to join their demonic path- and while Din was unsure what was true and what was not, the mentioning of taking children from their parents worried him. It was not the Mandalorian way to encourage the separation of family, as family was the most sacred bond a Mandalorian could be honoured with. Was his empathy for the Jetii founded at all? What if he was seeing goodness where it wasn't to be found? 

His brain supplied him with an image of another Jetii, her blue and white head tendrils floating as she did in the air- her arms outstretched and uplifting as that strange force that seemed to hold her up acted on the ship she was trying to lift so the villagers within it could escape the battlefield unscathed. 

The divinity and angelic goodness of their enemy never failed to surprise him. 

Regardless, he was interested to see if anyone would take the darksaber from The Armourer, who was currently in possession of it. She had named Din as the reigning heir of the traditional monarchal weapon- unwilling to take up the title herself, she had instead chosen to let Bo-Katan Kryze lead until Din was of age. This had satisfied the general Mandalorian populace for the time being, who were happy to let Bo-Katan continue to lead the assault on the Jetii. 

The saber that would crown Din as Manda'lor had always felt unfamiliar in his palm no matter how many times he trained with it. He didn't feel worthy to be Manda'lor, and had always been unsettled as to why the Armourer had chosen Din, of all the foundlings, as the sole heir to the title. Sometimes it felt like she knew something about him that he didn't, but he could never figure out what it was.

Something felt off about the saber as a whole as well that only contributed to his aversion to it- the saber mirrored the Jetii laser swords too closely for it to be a coincidence and the connection bothered him. 

Especially with the amount of Mandalorians who expect him to use it in battle against the Jetii on his coronation. Regardless of the fact everyone knew Din would probably only have the darksaber for five minutes before someone challenged him for it. It was expected of him if he made it past that stage that he would use it to lead the charge in this war to deliver a final blow. 

It made his stomach turn at the thought. It felt wrong to do that, somehow. Like trying to get a loth-wolf to fight it's owner. The bile in his throat tasted of sin- of horrible misfortunes should the darksaber be used in this war. But Din couldn't and wouldn't express this because it would be against years of tradition. For all he knew he would forfeit his right to the throne and be cast out from his family for even mentioning it. 

In any case, this was all irrelevant as he darted in and out of the days battle. Din changing from infield medic to soldier whenever he saw someone down and wounded on the battlefield. It had been a long time since he had given a damn about the 'honour of dying on the battlefield' protests of the wounded Mandalorians. He would drag them to safety regardless, because while Mandalorian, Din prioritised people's lives over the whole 'honour in a battlefield death' notion. 

People tended to be grateful to him after the fact anyway. So Din didn't let it get to him. He pushed on.

Mid-battle, he had fought his way through the Jetii that were doing quite well to push them back and made it to the middle of the throng. Some soldier was shooting at a Jetii whose speeder was broken where Jetii warriors met Mandalorian soldiers. If Din strained his eyes, he could spot the famous General Skywalker and Kenobi slashing their way forward with their laser swords. 

While Din respected and empathised with the Jetii, realising they were a victimised group of religious warriors being made to fight this war, he had to admit he was somewhat scared of those particular famous Jetii generals in spite of that. 

He fought his way through the mob, doing his best to disarm and not kill, coming up on the abandoned speeder in the middle of the clash only to find-

Is that a repair boy?

In the middle of a kriffing battlefield? 

Din worry and anger made itself known by shooting up in his system like he'd been injected with spice. The golden sandy haired boy was taking cover using the speeder and doing his best to hotwire the speeder so it worked again as quickly as possible. Din would know because he'd had to do that on the battlefield before himself.

He watched, fighting off the occasional Jetii and confused Mandalorians who tried to engage him, as the speeder coughed to life and the boy moved to a crouch. It was becoming clear the unarmed boy wouldn't make it out of the battlefield without a fight regardless of which direction he went in, because he was boxed in by four sets of Jetii and Mandalorians locked in battle with each other. 

Din wasn't sure who the boy was, but all he knew was he had to act before the boy got a limb sliced off by a stray laser sword or viroblade. He looked like an employed villager from the far side of Mandalore to him, and kriff knows there was enough of those around. 

So he swooped in, readying his beskar spear to deflect any stray weapons as he closed in on the now working speeder. 

"Hey!!" he shouted against the screeches of battle, trying to get the boy's attention. 

The shining boy gave him a questioning look, clearly confused. 

"Come with me! You need to get out of this war zone!" Din shouted, trying to be heard above the nearby explosion. 

The boy furrowed a brow, still confused. 

Din faltered. "Can you..." Can he speak basic ? 

The boy opened his mouth soundlessly, as if about to say something, before deciding against it. He surveyed his surroundings.

"Look, you need to get out- and fast," Din tried again, moving closer so he could be heard more easily. "I'll get you out, this is no place for a villager." 

His eyes shone with something like sudden understanding, but the boy kept quiet. He nodded in what seemed like agreement. 

Din offered his open, gloved, hand to pull the boy up- which he accepted- and herded him across the battlefield, towards the Mandalorian base. 

Well, kriff. Luke thought. I'm farricked. 

The moment this Mandalorian finds out I'm a Jedi I'm kriffed to all hell. 

But he was my only way out without drawing attention to myself. 

Obi Wan's sage advice echoed in his head as if in response. We must accept help where it is given. Regardless of who it comes from. 

If this is the will of the force, then so be it. Luke accepted as he was gathered towards the dusty red clay buildings that made up the enemy base. 

Chapter Text

The sounds of gunshots and laser swords reached a decrescendo as they made their way into the door of the Mandalorian military compound. When it was finally quiet, and they were both clearly out of danger, a silence from both Din and the boy enveloped them as they walked. 

What would he do with him now? 

It was then that Din realised it was foolish to just drag the boy off the battlefield like that. For all he knew he had just saved a Jetii. (Not that that was a bad thing necessarily, Din was well aware that he harboured pro-Jetii sympathies, just that bringing one into the compound could cause big problems.)

Din cleared his throat, the silence finally getting to him. He awkwardly looked over to the boy, who now he could see clearly- and saw that was actually about the same age as him. 

"So, uh..." Din faltered awkwardly in basic, unsure what to say because he wasn't even sure the boy understood basic considering what happened back on the battlefield. 

The sandy haired boy looked at him almost expectantly, silent save for the bright curiosity in his eyes. Din somehow found it endearing. 

If he truly was a villager, then all this tech would be new and fantastical to him, right? 

Somehow that was even more endearing and refreshing. Din forced himself to focus. 

"What's your name?" Din asked in basic, unsure if he would get a reply. 

The sunshine village boy didn't seem to understand- he cocked his head to the right questioningly.

Din tried again, but in Mando'a. "Meg cuyir gar gai?" he asked, his voice feeling more fluid on the consonants of the sentence. 

He still didn't seem to understand, wincing slightly. 

Sandy haired looked unsure as he made a series of sounds and hand signals, before Din realised he was trying to talk to him in the language the Tusken Raiders used. 

'Sorry, I don't understand what you're saying.' he signed.

'It's alright. Are you from Tatooine?' Din signed back forgivingly with a flourish. Din remembered his Tusken from back when he used Bounty Hunting as his training with the rest of the Death Watch. He had spent some time on Tatooine, and found it was useful to ask the Tuskens for help when he was there collecting bounties. His Tusken was a little rusty, though. 

'Spent some of my childhood there with my Uncle.' The boy signed back, making a noise with a bright smile at the end. Din couldn't help but echo the smile under his helmet.

Din nodded, before continuing. 'Do you speak basic at all?' 

The boy remained silent for a moment. 

'What is your name?' he asked instead, clearly changing the subject. 

Din allowed him to- he knew that the topic would probably circle back later. He thought for a moment. 

'It's hard to translate, but-' Din paused, before speaking in basic. "Din Djarin." He continued in Tusken for the other's sake. 'It is probably best you call me "Djarin", though. Mandalorian traditions can be tricky. Are you Mandalorian? Which village do you come from?' 

The boy seemed to consider his answer, before answering carefully in screechy Tusken. 

'I like your name.' He replied with a smile. Din warmed at it, but listened for his answer carefully. 

'I'm a villager from Naboo. I came to support our Senator as she helps in the... magic wars.' The boy seemed to wince, and pause at the word 'magic,' as Din realised Jetii was probably hard to translate into Tusken- the Tuskens didn't have a word for them. 

Din laughed. 'I see.' 

There was a comfortable pause in the conversation. 

The golden haired boy pointed at himself, before seeming to offer "Luke."

'Is that your name?' Din asked politely as he lead him through the hallways that led to the weapon forges.

Luke nodded.

Din smiled, despite knowing Luke couldn't see it. 'Nice to meet you, Luke.'

'Same honour upon you.' 

There was silence only filled by the echoing of the pair of their steps as they turned corner after corner in the long hallways. 

'So...' Luke started almost shyly, getting Din's attention with the familiar squeaks of the Tusken language. 'Where are you taking me?' 

Din knew it was best to tell him to be hospitable. 

'I'm taking you to...' Din struggled with the words for it for a moment. 'My... chief.' he hesitated, watching Luke carefully for his reaction. But Luke just nodded resignedly, as if knowing this would occur.

'I am not sure if you should go back to your senator yet- I will have to find out what Mandalorian traditions define you as.' 

Luke nodded, understanding. Din was not sure if he had just worried him with this news, so he rushed to comfort him. 

'However I believe you would be considered...' Din again flailed a little useless and struggled to figure out how to translate foundling to Tusken. 'My found one.' He finally tried, with a blush. 

Luke contemplated this, replying screechily. 

'Found one? Was I ever lost?' Luke asked, a smirk on his face that told Din he was joking. 

Din laughed spiritedly. 'Mandalorian tradition... for adopting people...' Din wasn't sure he had the vocabulary to fully describe it. Luke raised an eyebrow questioningly. 

'You'll see.' Din comforted. 

The room Djarin eventually led him to was a hot room with a blazing fire in the centre. 

It was there that Djarin motioned for him to wait near the door as he strode into the room, calling out in Mando'a.

All Luke could say was 'Thank the mother-farricking force Uncle Obi Wan and Master Yoda forced all those language lessons onto him as a child.' 

Luke had had to make a split second decision on his cover story the moment Djarin asked him about himself. His first instinct was to lean into the assumption Djarin had made about his inability to speak basic. He hoped it would cover his identity for awhile. He didn't want to get murdered in a Mandalorian military compound. 

"Beskaryc!" Djarin called, appearing to be looking around for someone. Armoured- his brain supplied as translation. Luke was suddenly fiercely glad his father had made him learn Mando'a in the evenings, yammering on about how 'it may save your life one day' and 'you must know your enemy.' Luke was slightly ashamed to say his father might have been right about it being able to save his life. 

"'Lek?" yeah? a female voice called back, walking into the smelting chamber they both stood in.

"Ni ganar a wero." I have a problem Djarin asked gravely. 

"At vaabir ti kaysh?" To do with him? She asked, gesturing with her thumb towards Luke while wiping her ungloved hands on an oily cloth. Her gold helmet with horns on it glinted with a reflection of the blue flames nearby.

"Elek." Yes. Din confirmed, seeming very serious. 

"tion'ad cuyir kaysh?" Who is he? She asked. Now that Luke thought about it, he could perhaps conjecture that her name was Armoured- considering that was what Djarin had called out when he got here. 

"Ni Gaa'tayl kaysh eyaytir te kyrbej." I helped him escape the battlefield. Djarin explained, glancing at Luke. "Ni mirdir kaysh's bat te jetiise eso- a kaysh's nayc verd." I think he's on the Jedi side- but he's no warrior. 

Luke felt slightly affronted at being dismissed like that, but he had to remember that it was probably a good thing for his cover that he was thought of like that. 

The woman- a leader, Luke realized- looked him up and down thoughtfully, as if sizing him up. "Ni haa'taylir." I see. She said, seeming a little condescending. 

There was a moment of silence as the Armoured decided his fate. Luke tried not to seem nervous, but his heart was hammering in his chest. He could be cut down right at that moment if this woman decided he was suspicious. 

She sighed, relenting. "Pirusti bic seems kaysh cuyir gar foundling.  Kaysh looks ruug'la par solus." Well it seems he is your foundling. He looks old for one. 

Djarin laughed, seeming relieved. 

"kaysh joha- naasad Ika'dyc ra mando'a." his language- he can't speak basic or mando'a. Djarin mentioned worriedly. "shi Tusken." only Tusken.

Armoured cocked her head to the side, considering this. "jate kebi gar jorhaa'ir tusken. kaysh's gar buirkan." good thing you speak Tusken. he's your responsibility. She said with a tone of finality. Her matriarchal authority was clear with that closing remark, and Luke noted to himself to stay on good terms with her as he watched her leave.

'What's the judgement?' Luke asked Djarin eagerly in Tusken- changing verdict to judgement. 

'You can stay. She judged you...' Djarin paused, trying to figure out how to translate the nuances of foundling in Tusken before settling on what he said earlier. 'A found one. You are to stay with me until you can get back to your senator.' 

Luke feigned delight as if he hadn't understood the conversation in Mando'a. 'Thank you.' He replied eagerly, grinning. 

He was surprised by the brief flash of yellow light from Djarin's force signature. Luke supposed that now they had a bond it was easier to get a read on the enigmatic Mandalorian. 

'Can you speak basic?' Djarin asked again, feeling as if he had earned Luke's trust enough to fish for an answer again. 

Luke looked a little shy at that. 'Yes.' He admitted in Tusken, flailing his arms a little to halt Djarin's irrtated reply. 'But... I didn't know if I could trust you, I hope you understand.' 

The Tusken sign and accompanying sound indicated a line like a rope between Djarin and Luke- where you signed the presence of the rope before tugging on it from your end. Luke thought it was oddly appropriate for the situation. 

Djarin seemed a little frustrated at the fact he had had to speak Tusken- a language he was already rusty at- for a whole hour when they could've been speaking basic. However, he seemed to understand the distrust. 

"I do." He finally said in basic. 

Luke nodded, smiling sheepishly. It seemed to say I've been very silly- but you'll forgive me, right? 

"So... you're Senator Amidala's servant?" Djarin asked finally, leading Luke out of the room and back into the hallway maze. 

"Not her servant, no. Just a villager that volunteered." Luke replied amiably, trying to seem optimistic despite not quite feeling it. He was nervous again- he wasn't sure where he stood with Djarin after lying to him slightly. 

"I see." 

There was an awkward silence as they walked together. 

"Is she the leader?" Luke asked, trying to make conversation and find out more about the place. He wasn't sure how long he'd be here for. 

"Technically, yes." Djarin said, and Luke sensed a long-winded answer. "Essentially, our people pass our leadership role on to the next successor through an ancient blade you must earn in battle.  While technically, she is the current leader- she has forfeited her role and named an heir. We're waiting for him to be old enough to wield the blade." 

"Ah." Luke nodded, somewhat understanding. The main thing he knew about Mandalorian culture is that good fighting was an important trait to cultivate. 

Djarin turned off onto a hallway with many doors, stopping at the one closest. The door slid open with a- sshk! 

"If I had known someone was coming, I'd've cleaned up a bit. Sorry about the mess." Djarin apologised abashedly, rushing forward to pick up something and put it away. 

Luke laughed richly. "It's fine. I wasn't expecting your daring rescue today either." 

"That is true." 

Luke watched, leaning against the wall near the door, as Djarin rushed around his room to pick things up. From what he could see, there was a single bed, a closet, a special alcove for putting armour on, and a small shelf of books and datapads. There was a small refresher near the door with the door ajar, and Luke could see some tubes spread out on the fresher shelf. Djarin's room was awash with loose clothes that were unclear if they were clean, stray datapads and a plate of half finished food. 

In short, as Leia would put it; it was a typical teenager's bedroom. And Luke couldn't help himself from laughing. 

Djarin gave him a strange look from where he was crouched on the floor, shoving a spear under his bed. 

"Sorry-" Luke had to stop to cover his face a little in habit as he was consumed once again by the hilarity of the situation. Whenever he pictured Mandalorians, he pictured warriors- and could never imagine a Mandalorian's bedroom this way. 

Teenagers would always be teenagers, he supposed. 

"What's so funny?" Djarin asked, a little unnerved by his sudden laughter. He seemed a little embarrassed too to have a supposed village boy from Naboo laugh at the state of his room.

"Sorry, just I didn't expect your room to be so endearingly normal, I suppose." 

Djarin stopped for a minute, taken aback. "Why wouldn't it be?" 

"I don't know, the first thing I think of when I think Mandalorian-" predator, oppressor, bigoted warriors who want him dead, death-" I think more warrior and less teenager-y." 

Djarin grumbled something he couldn't hear, but chuckled nonetheless. 

When it had appeared he had finished cleaning, he wiped his hands on the cloth under his armour. 

"Feel free to sit and rest before dinner- I'm going to go do my chores for the night before I get fed to Krayt Dragon." Djarin sighed, his aura flashing a little with yellow laughter when he joked about the dragon. 

Luke laughed, leaning against the nearest bed post and watched him leave. When he was sure Djarin had gone, he sat cross-legged on the floor to meditate. It was the best thing he could think of the pass the time, and he was anxious and slightly terrified of his head getting put on a stake. 

Luke had inklings of a serenity he didn't feel, seeds that threatened to sprout in his chest. He just needed to access them. 

With the turmoil of his inner thoughts, he wasn't sure if he could water them and nurture them in the chaos of his emotional storm. 

But, he knew he needed to. He needed a clear head with the Mandalorians if he were to survive. While they were not quite the terrifying bigoted savages he pictured originally when he thought of them, he was intimately aware he was on enemy ground. He needed to tread lightly. 

So Luke meditated. It was something he was good at and could do to control the situation. He willed and comforted the seeds of stoicism that bloomed slowly with each steadying breath. Luke reached out with the force, reaching for the elemental energy of the room. He called upon the life force of the soil he knew was deep below him, the energy of the water that dripped from the tap in the sink nearby- drip, drip, drip- and with each drop, he sunk further and further into the comforts of the force. 

Finally, when he was attuned to the force after easing himself into the sixth sense that was his force sensitivity, he allowed himself to reach out to the force. Feeling it respond and swirl around him gently more with his body and mind than he did with his senses. 

The force was surprisingly languid today, considering the fact he knew his fellow Jedi were currently on the battlefield harnessing it again and again to twist and shape fate as they could. The force tended to be stiff and hard to mould if many were using it simultaneously, or too often. His friends and family must be doing well on the battlefield, then, if they were using the force so sparingly. Luke supposed. There was a few niggling questions at the back of his mind- ones about how something important must be occurring if the force was this malleable, and if this had anything to do with his Mandalorian situation- but he let them float over his head and into the void of nothingness. Luke acknowledged they were there, but didn't try to intervene or add to them.

Instead, he focused back on his breath and the currents of the force as they interacted with the soil, the water and the air. Luke almost wanted to reach out physically - to ride the currents of the force- but he understood that would be unwise on enemy territory. He called the force to him, like an Ewok goatherd called his goats back to the farm for a good night's sleep. The force surrounded him readily, and he couldn't fight the spark of joy at the responsiveness of it.

Perhaps this is the will of the force. Luke's anxieties calmed. Perhaps there was nothing to worry about- the force had his back as it always did. 

By the time he felt Djarin's emotional force signature approaching the door, he had already found his grounding. Luke felt centred as he got up from the ground, stretching, to splash his face with water. 

Chapter Text

When Din returned, Luke was in the refresher, splashing water on his face. Din walked past him to get to his closet- which was russet toned like the walls of the room- and looked for something to change into under his armour. He'd gotten sweaty from helping mop up the training grounds, and it looked like he only had fifteen minutes until he had drag his new foundling to the mess hall. 

At this point, Din wasn't very aware of the blonde boy who was bumbling around his room like a lost sheep. Although it was probably an unwise move considering how little he knew of Luke, he shed his arm and chest armour as he rushed to the fresher so that he could at least change his shirt in the short amount of time he had between now and the train to the communal feast in town.  

Din sighed, rubbing his face after pulling the sweaty shirt over his head, already fretting over how Luke will be judged by the others at the feast tonight. Luke would have to join the Death Watch circle with Din- all foundlings had to join their founder when they went to the feast- but that didn't bode well by way of protecting Luke from the Mandalorian horde. But Din put the worry out of his mind as he pulled the fresh shirt on. Din took the opportunity to wash his face in addition to towelling his hair down too. Din would probably need to shower when they returned, but that was a thought for later. 

At least his face felt clean. Din thought to himself. 

He took a deep and steadying breath, and opened the fresher door. 

Luke- bless him, had taken the liberty to pick up the pauldron, shoulder and arm armour that had fallen onto the ground in his haste to get to the refresher. If Din was quite honest; he felt a little ashamed at himself for making a mess in his rush. He really hadn't meant to make a mess while Luke was around, and it definitely gave the wrong impression about how he treated others. 

"Sorry about that," Din apologised, once again feeling sheepish. "I usually do that so I can pick it up later- you didn't have to. I guess... I don't know, I forgot you were here for a moment." 

Luke chucked. "I figured by how your room was messy that 'later' might be a relative term for you." 

Din laughed self-deprecatingly- but he couldn't see a lie there. Luke was correct in that assumption.

"I'll try not to make a habit of it." Din promised by way of closing off his apology. "I just needed to be quick." 

Luke just smiled at him. "If you say so." He teased. 

Din had to stop himself from snorting a laugh, so he checked the digital clock on his shelf. They had ten minutes to get to the mess hall. He strapped himself back into his armour with haste. 

"C'mon," Djarin invited, looking back at Luke. "We've got to get to dinner. We can't be late- it's the communal feast tonight." 

Luke raised an eyebrow. "The what?" 

Djarin glanced at him as he led him out of the room, surprised. "The weekly communal feast. Your people don't have that?"

"Uh, no." 

Djarin finally snorted that laugh he had repressed earlier.

"So uncivilised." Din muttered under his breath, jest in his tone. He knew Luke would humour the banter- he had earlier, at least.  

Luke gave him an affronted look, playfully incredulous at the accusation. 

"I'll have you know our Festival of Light and Freedom Day are absolutely beautiful." Luke harrumphed. Luke decided not to mention the Kyber crystal gathering and lightsaber building ceremony, nor the Padawan knighting ritual where your master assisted you with your Padawan braid. They were also important and central Jedi ceremonies Luke had celebrated on his path to Jedi Padawan. Probably best for his safety that Djarin didn't find out about those. 

"I'm sure they are." Djarin acquiesced, voice warm and understanding. "Just they're probably not as comforting as the communal feast every Benduday."

"Oh yeah? Those festivals are some of my happiest memories." Luke challenged. 

Djarin laughed. "Well I hope you enjoy the communal feast, then." 

Luke warmed at that. He had to stop himself from replying with 'Then I'll enjoy it because you want me to.' 

What was he doing? This is someone who would kill you if he knew who you were. He chastened. 

They fell into a comfortable silence as Djarin led them to a pair of double doors that automatically opened for them to reveal a crowded mess hall. Luke was confused. When Djarin had said 'feast' he had definitely not thought of mess hall food. 

But instead of sitting a table, Djarin led him to join the crowd and checked the time on the clock on the wall. 

'We're going into town to join the feast. It's... village-wide.' Djarin told him, switching to Tusken. From Djarin's pause, Luke gathered he meant 'city' instead of village.

'Why-'

Djarin's aura brightened- Luke could swear Djarin was laughing at him but he couldn't quite tell under the helmet. 

'Some would prefer that I not have...' Djarin grimaced. 'A found one.'

Luke nodded slowly, somewhat understanding. Why would Djarin have people against him having a foundling? Luke couldn't help but find it odd. 

'Also people are nosy.' Djarin added, grimacing, his aura flickering with laughter as he grumbled.

Luke laughed. People could definitely be nosy. He'd had his fair share of people's nosiness with the fame that came from being Padmé (Ex-Amidala) Naberrie's son. 

The group moved forward, and Djarin helped herd Luke along to follow the crowd. Djarin then led Luke into the hovertrain that stood waiting for the gathered army- everyone packed closely together into the overpopulated train cars- especially with all the armour- was admittedly a little claustrophobic. But Luke was excited despite himself, despite the fact he felt the crushing weight of being so close to a pack of Jedi-killers- he got to see more of Mandalore. Something that not many Jedi after the war had started had seen. 

If everything went right, then Luke might even get to see as much of Mandalore as Grandpa Obi Wan. Luke grinned privately to himself at that, feeling smug.

Djarin gave him a questioning look from his space right next to him. Luke ignored it and let his hand go instinctively fly to the necklace under his shirt, habitually rubbing it in thought. He didn't dare take it out from underneath the layer of fabric- not here, in front of all these Mandalorians- but it was a comforting reminder he wasn't alone. Luke looked at the transparisteel in wonder as he got to see the city buzz and brighten as it sped past the train windows. He almost pressed to the transparisteel to watch the sights come and go, astounded by how the city of Mandalore shone bright like a diamond in the rough. Whenever Luke thought of Mandalore, it was only of the military base and the desert that he'd grown used to on the outside. Never of the city metropolis. 

When they got through the city, they stepped off at a station just at the edge of the metropolis. Luke kept close to Din to avoid being lost, and Din was happy to walk with him in tow if it meant one less problem. The station was just on the edge of the Sundari dome, and they would soon leave to join the picnic-like feast that the city threw for them weekly to boost morale and return to the traditional warrior ways of Mandalore. It was the one thing that Bo-Katan had done that Din supported. 

Din wouldn't admit it, but he also really enjoyed the look of pure wonder and bliss on the boy's face as he watched the city. There was a certain beautiful innocence to it that was endearing, Din conceded to himself as he saw the sparkle in Luke's blue eyes. Din hardly knew the guy, but he found it charming that he'd been able to show this clearly unique and special person part of the planet Din was so proud of. Sundari was indeed dazzling. 

"C'mon." Din beckoned, after having to wait for him when Luke paused for the fifth time in a row- too overwhelmed by the sights of the city to keep in pace with Din. Luke seemed to be drinking everything in desperately, and Din chuckled.

"We'll see it again later." He comforted gently, holding out his arm in order to be able to drag Luke with him to the feast at a quicker pace than he was going at now. Luke took his offered arm, and Din felt strangely warm again with surprise and camaraderie. He pushed the feeling away, using the leverage he had with Luke's hand to get them to catch up with the group. Luke let go of his arm as they caught up. 

"The city is beautiful." Luke finally said after having spent the trip from the train in silence. Din grinned to himself under the helmet, feeling proud. 

"Thank you." Din offered, looking Luke in the eye under his visor. "It is."

The city wasn't just beautiful. It was stunning. 

Sure, Corosaunt was a beautiful city. It was the epicentre of the Republic, of trade and luxury living. The force auras of its people sparkled with an array of diversity and sensuality. It was this way despite it's dark and dirty underbelly, hidden between multitudes of layers of metropolis that seemed to go on forever. 

Naboo was beautiful as well, but in a different way- it was gilded hallways and ornate tradition. It was grace, nature and peace. The force auras of the people of Naboo felt like taking a sip of fresh water from a cool river- clean, cool and blessed. Attuned with nature in a fluid way. It was jaded and delicate, it's strength founded in fluidity. 

But Mandalore... Mandalore was the perfect blend of the good things about those two planets. A bustling high tech city that prided itself on it's luxury and sensuality, but at the same time gilded and graceful in the most eccentric and strange way. There was something that felt close to the earth- the soil- of the planet that was just so in tune with nature in a different way than Naboo was. If Naboo was a force connection with water, then Mandalore was a force connection with the toil of the earth. There was the fluidity of the earth and there was unity- solid packed like rock. There was a dazzling sense of humility and centred-ness at the core of the force on this planet, and it was only made stronger by being closer to the city. 

Sure, Mandalore was a somewhat martial planet. The whole atmosphere was 'we got here with the blood, sweat and tears of both our work and our fighting.' 

But that atmosphere married with the grounded-ness of the architecture; of the people and their faith in their traditions made Luke felt tethered and known- not just in the force, but as if a safety rope had been attached to his spine that had been secured to the earth itself. It felt like a promise of protection and hospitality. 

No wonder the Mandalorians were so fiercely proud of themselves and their planet. Luke thought to himself in awe, feet stuttering on their journey towards the edge of the dome. 

Djarin huffed, and Luke felt a strong arm on his bicep as he felt himself be tugged forward once again.

"Gods, you're bulky." Djarin grumbled, pulling at him (with little progress) for a moment more before it seemed that Luke seemed to get the message to get a kriffing move on, snapping out of his reverie. 

Luke glared at him, slightly irritated, but said nothing- seeming content to just bask in the atmosphere of the city. Djarin lost his hostage of Luke's arm, as Luke shrugged Din's hand away. 

"So... is this the first major city you've been to?" Djarin asked politely, slowing his pace to walk with Luke in tandem. The group was a little ahead, and Djarin had seemingly given up on trying to get them to keep up with the group. 

Luke fumbled for something to say other than No? I've been to Corosaunt. Also what kind of person do you take me for? A savage? Naboo has farricking cities too, bitch.

"Not really. Naboo has cities, but none of them this tall and overwhelming." Luke replied with a half-lie. 

Djarin nodded appreciatively. "I went once, with my blood parents. I was very young at the time, though."

Luke raised an eyebrow at him. "Yeah?"

Djarin didn't elaborate. His parents were a sensitive subject, then. 

"Naboo is beautiful. It seemed very... natural." Djarin offered instead, and Luke was fine with the change in subject. 

"And Mandalore isn't?" Luke teased, laughing. Djarin seemed to glare at him playfully under his helmet.

"C'mon you kriffing stragglers." Someone from the group grumbled- calling back at them in Mando'a, clearly irritated at their lack of speed. 

"Coming!" Djarin called back, quickening his pace to catch up, which Luke had no choice but to follow if he wanted to not get lost. Luke gave him a puzzled look.

'Need to speed up.' Djarin translated, switching to Tusken. Luke rolled his eyes. 

'Not my fault.' Luke signed back, growling to end off the Tusken sentence- a playful twinkle in his eye. 

'It is.' Djarin bantered back, sighing in exasperation. 'Sky- why do I want rid of you already? It's only been a day.' 

Luke had the good sense to seem affronted. 'I'm not that bad!' 

Djarin gave him a look that said otherwise. Luke marvelled at his level of expressiveness through a helmet of thick beskar. 

'You're insufferable.' 

'No you are.' Luke countered, ignoring the slightly confused looks they were getting from the Mandalorian army group they had come to the city with as they rejoined the group. 

"New pet, Djarin?" One of them scoffed, eyeing Luke up and down. 

"Wouldn't you like to know." Djarin bit back, giving the remark all due deference it deserved. (In this case: none.) 

The person shut up, but didn't stop sizing Luke up either. 

'Keep an eye on him, would you?' Djarin called to Luke in Tusken, pushing his way to the front of the group. The group had stopped in just in front of the doors of the outer dome. 

'Where are you going?' Luke called out in Tusken back, signing and panicking slightly. He did not want to be left alone with all these Jedi-killers.

Djarin didn't answer him. Luke had to swallow his fear- these people were all studying him now with interest. 

"I feel like I've seen you before, foreigner." One of them said thoughtfully- he was ginger and had his helmet off- his eyes were narrowed at Luke.

"Surely you wouldn't forget a face like mine, right?" Luke joked nervously, putting on a winsome smile and hoping the joke landed. 

Some of the Mandalorians laughed good-naturedly, but the ginger just seemed irritated. 

"You're on thin kriffing ice kid." Ginger scoffed, pulling his helmet back on and deciding Luke wasn't worth the effort. Djarin came back and started shouting in Mando'a, arms waving by way of directions. 

"Two lines, please!"

"You don't tell me what to do, shuk'yc." Someone in the crowd growled, and others shoved him to tell him to shut up. Luke wasn't sure what shuk'yc was, but it didn't sound friendly. 

"Don't insult the cabur !" Another shouted back, clearly angry at the person who insulted Djarin. This was getting interesting. But Luke was starting to realise that knowing Mando'a theoretically and knowing Mando'a practically were two very different things. 

"Quiet!" Djarin yelled, breaking the stand off up by getting between the two armoured Mandalorians. "If you want to fight about this, fight about it in training, you absolute besomse!"

The tension between the two seemed to rise and then promptly fizzle out. They clearly had more interesting things to care about once the heat of the moment had died. Luke, however, was curious what cabur meant and why these two had such strong feelings about Djarin- from what he was aware of, Djarin was just another Mandalorian warrior to them. The group assembled themselves in parade rest as they lined up. 

Then, Djarin beckoned towards Luke. The eyes of the crowd followed the motion, putting Luke on the spot as he tried to remain calm under their combined attention and make his way to Djarin. 

'Stay with me. Don't show weakness.' Djarin instructed in Tusken, completely serious now. Luke nodded and followed him out of the city dome doors. 

Outside of the dome was the dry and hot desert Luke was intimately familiar with. If he just squinted and looked towards the horizon, he could see the outline of the Jedi military base. 

He could break away and make a run for it right now. Save himself the stress of living with Jedi-killers for a while. He could make it if he pulled his saber out. 

Luke shook the thought away. He could certainly try- but with half the city here, it would be near impossible and he'd be killed pretty quickly with a slugthrower before he could make it half of the way there. Somehow, the thought of bleeding out with a metal bullet in his head on the sands of Mandalore didn't really appeal to him. 

Besides- he was hungry. He couldn't make it that far without some sort of food, and the food he could smell smelt mouth-watering. 

Also he could use this as an information gathering opportunity- which would be extremely useful. Because the Mandalorians kept their traditions and cultures close to their chests, it had always been near impossible to attempt reconnaissance missions with them- which put the Jedi at a big disadvantage. 

Instead, he decided to force float a note to Leia. The wide open space would help the probability of the message getting to his sister through the force. 

Leia:

I'm healthy and well. Please tell the council and the family that I have gone to the neighbouring village on an emergency medical supply run. I'll explain the details later. What I do know, is that we can't have father going into a rage about the uncertainty of my whereabouts- he's already on thin ice with the council. 

- Luke

Luke could sense when the message had gone- the force surrounding him had interacted with the force of the earth briefly before he could sense it slide off into the distance. 

Force notes... were less like writing and constructing words and more like threading and weaving images together into a string. It took practice, and an incredibly strong force bond to achieve- but it was a good thing Luke had been doing this with Leia for years: sometimes almost unconsciously. When he tried to convey 'rage' he had to string an image of an explosion and a feeling of anger to describe the concept.  

Luke knew he wouldn't get a reply for hours. The distance between him and his sister was large, and the force had already been worked hard throughout the day. All he hoped was that the force would be strong enough to deliver the message at all tonight. 

Regardless, he watched the giant bonfire in the centre of the dessert gathering light up in roaring flames as Mandalorians of all types clapped and cheered politely. Children danced and sung in glee, playing under the watchful eye of their parents. Everyone of all backgrounds sat in a dizzying array of groups, chatting and eating, and it seemed generally very informal as different groups intermingled. There were stalls to buy food, but there was one that the military group of warriors were lined up for in particular. 

Djarin signed and growled in Tusken to him quietly to explain the system here. 

'There's a stall that gives free food from the government to the soldiers. The whole point of the communal feast is to allow the army some free time to connect with the people in the city.' 

Luke raised an eyebrow. That was... very considerate, actually. 

'Very... kind.' Luke remarked, an agreeable smile on his lips. It was the right thing to say, because Djarin's aura flushed with pride as if it was his idea to have this weekly gathering in the first place. 

"Hey! I remember him!" 

Luke jumped out of pure shock and turned to find the person who was shouting so loudly.

They were pointing at him. 

Chapter Text

"AHSOKA!!!“ Leia shouted in surprise, jumping when she saw the highly compromising scene of her Master in the middle of making out with someone on the couch in the entryway of their shared room. The pair stared at her in panic and shock, the flaxen-skinned girl on the couch scrambling to fix her robes so it wasn't pulled down to her hips- covering her face with one hand. 

"Forces." Leia cursed, exasperated, stepping back out of the bedroom she'd just entered and waiting for a moment in the hallway to allow Ahsoka a moment to collect herself while Leia tried to banish the visual of her Master getting it on. She was unsuccessful. That was certainly going to scar her for the rest of her life. 

"Sorry." Ahsoka shyly said finally coming to the door and nonchalantly leaning out of the room to talk to Leia through a crack in the door. 

Leia pinched the bridge of her nose in irritation. This wasn't the first time she'd caught Ahsoka in a situation like this, so she wasn't too sure why she was fazed by it at this point. "Who was it this time?" 

Ahsoka kept silent, seeming a little ashamed, which in itself was an admission. So it was Bariss again, then. 

The unspoken understanding passed between the two of them in silence, and Ahsoka looked at her with a challenging look- as if to dare her to question or try bring up the fact it was clear Ahsoka was emotionally attached to Master Barriss Offee. Ahsoka knew as well as Leia did that her own father was secretly married to Padmé, and therefore any scolding on that front would clearly be hypocrisy.

Leia remembered the day Ahsoka found out about the marriage vividly, though she had been only young at the time- Ahsoka had yelled at Anakin for being stupid enough to formalise his attachment to Padmé because he could very easily be outed from the council at any mention of it, before her anger had fizzled out after awhile. She had later admitted she was happy for them and fine with it as long as it didn't interfere with Anakin's commitment to the force.

It hadn't done so far, but everyone was careful of that.

Regardless, Ahsoka seemed to have a thing with Bariss, regardless of whether it was a labelled thing or an unspoken thing- it was getting a little annoying walking in on them in the middle of them getting freaky. 

"Why can't you just go by force-auras, like the rest of us?" Leia finally chastised. Ahsoka slumped a little in response. It was a known fact that if you were a Jedi and in the middle of having sex, you generally try to make sure you're not interrupted by keeping track of the surrounding force-auras. Oftentimes, the playboys of the lower ranks would compete to see how much they could focus on using the force while also hooking up with someone. Leia often wondered how that would even work- but if others could do it she was sure Ahsoka could too. 

"I try! I... just get a little...distracted... is all." Ahsoka defended, flushing red a little in embarrassment. 

"Kriff, Ahsoka, just be more careful." Leia requested, concerned, looking Ahsoka in the eye to make sure she got the message. 

Ahsoka nodded, seeming somewhat chastened, and opened the door for her. I don't know why she's the Jedi Master when I'm the one who seems to be doing all the teaching, Leia thought to herself as she entered the room again. The entryway with the couch was empty, which meant that Barriss had either left through the window or was in the refresher gathering her dignity. 

Leia went and flopped on her bed. "Remind me never to sit on that couch again. Like, at least in the next twenty years." she complained, digging out her comm from her pocket. 

"It's not that karking bad, Leia." Ahsoka rolled her eyes 

"Well how would I know?" Leia countered, shrugging and fixing Ahsoka with a pointed stare that deflated whatever retort Ahsoka had coming. 

It was silent for a moment as Leia scrolled through the holonets, laughing at a couple of memes and poignantly ignoring Ahsoka ruffling around their room for the moment. 

"What time's dinner?" Ahsoka asked, crossing the room to her wardrobe. 

Leia responded blandly. "Eight."

"Right." Ahsoka went to go get changed, and Leia wasn't even surprised when she caught a flash of flaxen in the refresher. So Barriss was in the refresher, then. 

Leia wasn't going to stick around and have this be awkward. It was clear Leia was interrupting something and her presence wasn't going to make it stop, either. She collected her change of clothes, towel and body wash from her own sparsely populated wardrobe and made her way to her mother's room. 

Just perks of having her mother helping in the war. Leia thought. She gets to use the Senators fresher (which was slightly bigger than the refresher she shared with Ahsoka.) 

"Hey mum." Leia greeted, walking past her mother brushing her wet hair. "Where's Ani?"

The twins had learnt to call their father 'Ani' instead of 'dad' out loud because they didn't want to accidentally reveal their parentage to the Jedi Order. 

Leia's mother stopped, listening to her inquiry. "I think he's with Obi Wan. Why?" 

"No reason." Leia shrugged, looking through her mother's toilette while Padmé tsked at her for doing so.  

"I thought you had your own shampoo?" her mother chided as she watched Leia take her shampoo. 

"I forgot it while trying to give Ahsoka and Barriss some privacy." Leia fibbed, taking her mother's conditioner too. Truth was, she enjoyed the comfort of Padmé's scent. It helped ground her on the battlefield. 

"They're at it again?" Padmé asked inquisitively from her spot at her table, rubbing leave in conditioner in her hair. 

"Yep." Leia sighed, before opening the door to the shared senators fresher.

"Make sure you give me my stuff back later, you thief!" Padmé called after her fondly. Leia snorted sarcastically in reply. As if. 

Leia later found herself at the round table in Obi Wan's room, listening to Ahsoka argue about tactics with Leia's father as Obi Wan looked on with a smirk. Leia's mother sat next to her and she kept trying to get Leia to eat a little more of the creamy cheese and fish pasta Obi Wan had made (it was his specialty) and Leia was happy to indulge. Uncle Ben's pasta was legendary, and certainly better than food from the mess hall. 

Obi Wan's Padawan lineage group (otherwise known as family) made it a point to have a family dinner once at least every two weeks- it was what kept the group together and on the same page, and it was often a chance to get away from the mess hall food. Sometimes they decided on something that the group would have to work together to cook; sometimes Padmé would enlist Luke and Leia to teach them how to make some dishes from Naboo, sometimes Anakin would drag Luke into the kitchen to help him make Tatooine snacks and appetisers while Obi Wan stirred his famous pasta dishes. The gathering always had a sense of homeliness, coziness and togetherness that had been absent from Luke and Leia's lives since they had left home to join the Jedi Order, and Leia was secretly grateful for it- no matter how much she whined when she was volun-told to help with the cooking. 

Today Anakin had only made half the amount of deep fried gorg and flatbread he usually did, but Leia knew already that it was because of the absence of Luke's helping hand. He had always been great at making the Tatooine variety of flatbread. (Better than Anakin, at least; but that wasn't too hard.) 

Regardless, they lounged around after dinner- full from Obi Wan's pasta and Padmé's pallie wine. (Leia was sure she'd accidentally ate Luke's portion of pasta too in his absence.) Obi Wan was studying something on his comm which looked suspiciously like a holopic from the Mandalorian battlefield, Ashoka was in the fresher, and Leia's parents were cuddling on Obi Wan's couch. Leia had her feet up on the dinner table (much to Obi Wan's chagrin) as she filed her nails onto a towel she had put on her stomach to catch the excess. 

"Where's Luke?" Ahsoka asked, seeming vaguely concerned as she made her way back from the fresher to sit next to Obi Wan. Usually, she'd sit with Plo Koon and reminisce, but Master Plo wasn't here right now- he was caught up in some council business that had passed Obi Wan by. 

Everyone in the room looked at Leia expectantly, and she sighed. You know, Luke and I aren't actually the same person- right? 

"He said he had rushed to the nearest village for supplies and not to expect him back for three weeks." Leia shrugged, going back to her nails to try not to arouse suspicion. 

"Three weeks? That's a while for a supply run." Anakin commented dryly. 

"You should know as well as anybody that finding plasma coils is an absolute pain in the neck, Ani." Leia teased.

"Oh, fair." Anakin shrugged, leaning back and resting his head on her mother's shoulder. 

The group lapsed into a comfortable silence again, one only broken by the holonewsfeed Padmé was not-quite paying attention to as Leia's father stroked her hair and held her close. Ahsoka was sitting next to Obi Wan, showing him memes every now and again that made him adjust his glasses to see. 

When family dinner finally wrapped up at ten, where they had argued over whose turn it was to sneak off to the village to get ingredients for the next family dinner, Leia found herself standing outside the dorm complex that the nanobots had helped build when they got here. She gazed into the dark of the night and freely appreciated expanse of stars in the night sky. 

Luke: 

Glad to hear you're well. I delivered your message. Dad wasn't too bothered when I told him you were chasing up plasma coils and that you'd be back in three weeks. We all know you'll meander back at some point. Where are you actually? Are you safe? 

If you can't tell me, it's fine. I get it. But please be back in three weeks or we're both kriffed, bitch.

- Leia 

Leia felt that calling Luke a bitch in a force note made the word loose it's potency because in order to do so one had to picture a female dog, but he knew he'd get the message. 

She released the message into the force with a deep sigh. Leia hoped he'd be back soon- she couldn't imagine the trouble the idiot had gotten himself into now. 

Chapter Text

Luke's heart raced in his chest. 

This is it. This is how I die. Surrounded and crushed by a group of Jedi-killers. Would I be able to get my saber out before I die? Take a few out with me? Or would I just get skewered on ten different spears while the others cheer? I hope the Force remembers I dedicated myself to-

"Brother!!! How are you doing?" The person who Luke had thought was pointing at him laughed. Luke looked behind him and realised he was pointing to a younger Mandalorian warrior from the army who had just taken his helmet off. 

"Must you always pretend you've forgotten me every time I come to the feast?" The person's brother asked exasperatedly. 

"Of course!! How else would I annoy you?" 

"I hate you." The brother sighed fondly, shaking his head in irritation.

"No you don't!" The person sing-singed teasingly and laughed as the the brother rolled his eyes at it. 

Luke released a relieved breath, and looked back to Djarin. 

Djarin was watching him, his helmet and aura inscrutable. He kept silent, and Luke hoped he hadn't connected the dots. 

'Hungry?' Djarin finally asked in Tusken. 

Luke laughed. 'Starving,' He admitted.

Djarin laughed with him, before standing back from the line of warriors. 'We must wait until everyone has collected their food. However...' 

He turned to look at him, and Luke could swear there was a mischievous twinkle in his force-aura. 'That doesn't mean we can't get something from one of the stalls.' 

Luke raised an eyebrow, intrigued. 'That would sound like a great idea if I wasn't as broke as a Krayt Dragon's den.' 

Djarin's force aura brightened, and Luke once again had a feeling he was trying not to laugh.

'Cheapskate.' Djarin goaded, and then continued as if it was a big effort. Luke could tell it wasn't. 'Alright then, dinner's on me.' 

Din doesn't know where the impulse to tease him is coming from. He couldn't shake it off, either. Despite the fact everything in his brain is ringing in alarm- because he hardly knows the guy- he falls easily into a bantering rhythm with Luke. 

It's maddening; not being able to understand why they've been getting on like a house on fire. Din struggles to accept it, ping-ponging back and forth between trying to wave his concern away with 'This is The Way' and paranoid their possible closeness may bite him in the arse later. He's already enjoying seeing Luke smile a little more than he should and he couldn't quite pinpoint why.

The stalls aren't very busy; the majority of the feast crowd having already gone to them to exchange food and alcohol for credits. The crowd was now drinking and being merry into the dry dusk of the Mandalorian desert- it was getting colder, and people were bringing out blankets and uj'alayi to finish off the night. Din has no trouble looking for the stall he wanted in the dimming sunlight and growing firelight. 

'So... Why do we have to get food last?' Luke inquired politely in Tusken beside him. Din was getting more and more used to switching between Tusken, Basic and Mando'a the longer he had to deal with it. 

'I'm of a higher rank than them.' Din found himself explaining to Luke's tilted head as he looked through the menu. 'It's a sign of respect.'

Luke ahhed in understanding at the clarification. Din supposed that in the Jetii army they have a different system. For some reason, that information just made Din more curious about it. How did they show respect to their superiors, then? 

The portly stall owner popped his head out to check the counter for customers before seeing them. He hurried towards them eagerly, sensing the prospect of another sale before recognising Din. 

"Hey! Chief! Long time no see!" Odza greeted warmly, looking Luke up and down curiously. "Anything I can get for you today?" 

Din chuckled. "I'm not leader yet, Odza." he chided. 

"But I hope you will get to be!" Odza smiled, faith in his tone. Din softened at the sincerity of it. It meant a lot that people hoped he'd become and stay Manda'lor, but he dearly hoped that that faith didn't waver when he inevitably decided to end the war with the Jetii. 

"I'll certainly try." Din promised, perusing the menu again. "I'll have two shatual sticks and..." 

Din turned to Luke with a question. 'Caf or tea?' 

Luke looked puzzled, but answered the question. 'Tea.' 

"Spiced caf and Cassius tea, please." 

Odza nodded, looking a little puzzled but not asking any questions, going back into the depths of the stall to get that for them. 

Luke tilted his head at him again in confusion, and Din was starting to get the hang of repressing the foreign feeling of endearment at it. 

'This is just extra. Snacks, I suppose. It's... customary to celebrate things with roast shatual or uj'alayi. Do you eat meat?'  

Luke nodded, clearly intrigued.

Odza came back with what looked like two skewers of meat and two drink containers. Din thanked him and passed him the credits owed.

Once that was settled, Din led them back to the military line for food, where people were still filing up for dinner. It was clear it would be another thirty minutes before the line trickled to a stop, so Din passed Luke a skewer and the spherical shaped drink container. 

"Thank you." Luke smiled, using Basic because his hands were full.

"No problem." Din replied warmly, watching Luke struggle with the spherical takeaway tea container with barely contained amusement. 

Finally, after a few minutes of struggling, Luke shot him with a filthy look. "I know you find this funny, but could you actually help?" 

Din finally showed his amusement by laughing at Luke outright. "Have you never used one of these before?" 

Luke pouted. "I have! It's just..." Luke struggled to defend himself. "This one is different to the ones I'm used to."

"Sure." Din replied disbelievingly, reaching over to point to the button on the top with the hand he was holding the shatual skewer in and pushing the button. The space next to it spiralled open like a rotating eye. Din could smell the familiar floral and mellow scent of Cassius flowers. 

"What's Cassius tea, then?" Luke asked, licking his lips and going in to take a sip. 

Din's mouth felt strangely dry for a moment. He cleared his throat and tried to explain. "It's tea from the florets of the Cassius tree. It's good for your health." 

Luke took a contemplative sip of the tea, seeming to dissect the flavour of it with a serene expression. 

"It's definitely grounding." Luke complimented appreciatively, looking down at the tea. "Good choice."

Din smiled, happy Luke liked something from his culture. 

"What about you ? You got caf, right?" Luke asked interestedly, taking another tentative sip of the tea. 

"Yes. Spiced caf, because it's infinitely better than normal caf. Especially when it's made by the traditional method." Din grinned. "But you wouldn't know because you prefer leaf juice." 

"Hey!" Luke protested, affronted but laughing. 

"I'll let you try it later." Din promised, putting his slightly bigger spherical takeaway cup into his bag. 

"You would?" Luke asked, pleasantly surprised. 

"Of course. As your founder, it's my duty to culture you." Din laughed. Luke gave him a foul look by way of reply, but Din couldn't take it too seriously because he could tell Luke's lips were still turned up at the corners. 

Later, they sat with the circle of the others who were still wearing helmets to eat. 

Or... for Luke to eat, at least? They weren't taking their helmets off at all, and Din had even packed his food into his side bag for later. The group was just talking and laughing in Mando'a, and all Luke could do was pretend not to understand it and consume his food. 

The food they had supplied the military with was a hearty (and spicy) vegetable and meat soup. Luke remembered that Din had asked the cook in Mando'a to 'tone down the spice for the foundling' and he had been nearly affronted at the assumption. But he was glad Din had- the spice was somewhat tolerable now. 

Luke felt a little ashamed at his apparent lack of spice tolerance, but then thought extreme spice may be a cultural difference. He'd been proud of his ability to handle spice before this. 

'Not too spicy, I hope?' Djarin inquired in Tusken when the conversation with the other helmeted Mandalorians floated away from him. 

'Yeah, nothing I can't handle.' Luke affirmed sheepishly. 

'Tiingilar tends to be 'blow your head off' spicy for the uninitiated. I asked them to tone the spice down a little for you.' Djarin quipped, seeming smug.

'Rude.' Luke snorted, feeling put out. Djarin seemed to be laughing at him again.

'You'll get used to it.' Djarin comforted, gaze drifting to looking out at the dark dessert that surrounded them. 'Depending on how long you'll stay, of course.' 

Luke was surprised he was given a choice. He wasn't sure whether he'd be expected to stay with them forever now that he was a foundling. 

'I'm in no hurry to get back to the frontlines.' Luke offered with a small smile. 'People don't usually need mechanical assistance mid-battle anyway, they usually just abandon anything not working.' 

Djarin laughed. 'Yeah, I guess they do.' 

They lapsed into comfortable silence as Luke continued to eat his tiingilar. The small fire the group was sitting in a circle around talking animatedly in Mando'a crackled comfortably. Yet despite the homeliness of the atmosphere, Luke felt a little forlorn. It was Benduday, so he'd be missing family dinner right now.

I bet Leia's happily eating my portion of Ben's legendary pasta, damn her. 

Luke found himself playing with the pendant of Leia's necklace under his shirt again. He couldn't help but feel a little alone despite having Djarin's somewhat comforting presence nearby. 

'So... Mandalorian culture?' Luke tried for conversation. He wanted to be distracted by something. 

Djarin wasn't listening to him. "Paz'ika, you know you can't do that. It's war crimes- against the creed." 

"Gods, I forgot how saintly you were." Paz'ika groaned mockingly. 

Djarin bristled. "I'm not saintly, I just try to be a good person." 

"Right, and look where that got you- towing along a foundling." 

Djarin reared back, affronted. "You know that having a foundling is the most sacred duty in our creed, why would you mock that?" 

"But in the middle of a war? You have to admit that it's inconvenient, Din'ika." 

Djarin scoffed. "Easy for you to say, you're a coward." 

"Oh? Alor's boy has something to say?" Paz'ika derided.

Djarin growled, but didn't take the bait. He opted for sullen silence. 

'You ok?' Luke asked gently. He'd finished his spicy Mandalorian stew.

Djarin seemed to be shaken out of his thoughts at that. "Huh?" 

'You ok?' Luke tried again.

He took a moment to get his bearings. 

"Yeah." Djarin swallowed. Luke took a risk and patted his arm awkwardly by way of any comforting words. 

"Who's the new foundling, then, Djarin?" Someone called out tauntingly from outside the circle. Everyone turned to look at the intruders. A group of Mandalorians decked in blue and white armour with their helmets under their arms approached.

Djarin sighed. 'This is what I meant when I said people are against me having a foundling.' 

Luke looked between Djarin and the approaching group inquisitively. 

Interesting. Is this because of Djarin's high rank, or something else? Something wasn't adding up here. 

"What's that?" The dude who had called to them from the group of three scoffed upon seeing Djarin ignore him. "Something you have to say to us, then?" 

"No." Djarin replied bluntly, as if he wanted the conversation to end as soon as possible. He didn't seem very intimidated by them, even when the group came close to the circle of helmet-wearers. Luke silently cleaned up his takeaway soup box a little. If these people were spoiling for a fight then he wouldn't want the tea that Djarin had bought for him ruined by getting thrown in the sand. 

The group finally turned their attention to Luke, appraising him like he was a pet they expected to do a trick for them. Luke crossed his arms and tried to look tough in response, eyeing them in return. The red-head rolled her eyes. The trio didn't intimidate him, and never had- he'd fought Mandalorians before and often won. He could certainly do so again. Perhaps without the use of his saber he'd be at a disadvantage, but he still had the force. Regardless, he was more interested in seeing some Mandalorian culture in action.

"He looks like a weak village boy to me. What'd he do for you to declare yourself as his founder? Smile at you and ask pretty please?" The red haired woman who appeared to be the trio's leader sneered. Djarin seemed to give her a look, but didn't rise to her bait. Luke followed suit and kept quiet, but he noticed the other helmeted Mandalorians gripping or reaching for their weapons. Including Paz'ika, who had been arguing with Djarin only five minutes earlier. Perhaps this group was some sort of family, then? 

"I struggle to understand your reason for approaching me, Bo-Katan." Djarin said pleasantly. 

"Just for friendly conversation." Bo-Katan replied politely, contempt oozing from her choice in words. "Who's the foundling?" 

"It's none of your business." Djarin challenged. "You're just here to insult him." 

"Aw." Bo-Katan pouted unsympathetically. "Is his poor pretty boy ego going to be hurt?" 

"There's no reason for you to antagonise Djarin's foundling." Paz'ika interjected calmly and threat in his tone. Despite Luke knowing he could deal with these Mandalorians himself, he was extremely grateful and touched for the backing the group seemed prepared to give him on Djarin's behalf.

"It's not illegal to speak your mind to the Manda'lor." Bo-Katan said a-matter-of-factly. Manda'lor???? Luke was confused. He could swear he'd heard that word before, but the meaning of it sat just beyond his reach. 

"I'm not the Manda'lor yet, Bo-Katan." Djarin sighed in frustration. "Regardless, Paz is right. Please stop antagonising my foundling or you'll find yourself at the mercy of my fellow siblings in creed." 

"Oh, like I'm scared." Bo-Katan rolled her eyes.

One of the helmeted Mandalorians stepped forward threateningly. "He said, stand down." 

Bo-Katan eyed this Mandalorian warily. So she was tough until put under pressure, then. Luke conjectured. 

"Why should I have to listen to a cultist?" Bo-Katan retorted. "Look, if Djarin wants to use his temporary position to get himself whores, that's fine by me."

Luke found himself outraged at the assumption, absolutely fuming at the fact that this bitch thought he was anybody's whore of all things. He forced himself to restrain his anger: the helmeted Mandalorian group were already onto the whole defending his honour case, and he didn't know enough about Mandalorian culture to really try to clap back at her for it without putting himself in danger. 

The short and stout Mandalorian didn't back down, but instead pushed forward. "How karking dare you, you bureaucratic bitchy asswipe- !" 

"Espí." Djarin cut her off in warning, stepping towards them and grabbing the arm they were using to pull their spear from their back with. The firelight reflected onto Djarin's silver armour as compared to the way it blended into Espí's red armour."She's the general, remember?" 

"Farrick, Djarin, I don't give a kriff if she's Queen of godsdamn Coruscant ! She can kiss my ass for all I care." Espí growled, tugging at the arm Djarin held hostage of. 

"I understand the extent of the insult, but this is my fight to decide. Not yours." Djarin said sternly, gripping their arm and attempting calm them into standing down. 

Somehow, it worked. Luke watched as they huffed and strapped their spear back onto their back, making their way back towards the Mandalorians who had risen from their seats for this debacle. Luke couldn't stop himself from trying to mouth 'Thank you' in their general direction, but he doubted they saw it. 

"You realise that picking a fight with my foundling means picking a fight with me, right?" Djarin glowered at Bo-Katan, who seemed irritated at best. "This is no longer a question of just my foundling's honour but our creed's honour as well." 

Bo-Katan seemed to reel it back a few steps once Djarin made that threat clear. "So he's not your newest flame?" 

Djarin looked confused. "No. Why would he be? I've known him a day."

"I see." Bo-Katan said icily. "I apologise, then." It didn't seem genuine, however. More like she was observing a formality she didn't like. 

The group of helmeted Mandalorians standing at attention shared wary looks before looking to Djarin for confirmation and leadership. They weren't willing to let this go if Djarin wasn't willing to let this go. 

"I'll accept on the condition that if you would like to insult me, insult me, not my foundling." Djarin reasoned. Bo-Katan nodded in agreement, and the helmeted Mandalorians relaxed, slowly ambling back to their seats and keeping their eyes on Bo-Katan as she had a silent stand off with Djarin for a moment before leaving with a huff. 

Luke could hear Bo-Katan's trio talking amongst themselves as they left, and something one of them muttered set him on edge.

"Why do I feel like I've seen him before?" 

Kriff. Luke would have to be careful. 

Chapter Text

When they returned to the military base, night had long since fallen. Luke was a yawning mess and idly speculating whether it would be awkward if he asked about having a shower. At this point, Luke was sandy and sweaty from the confusing day he’d had.

But when they both entered Djarin’s quarters, one thing became glaringly apparent to the both of them now that they were thinking of settling down for the night: Djarin only had one bed.

Shit. Luke thought, mind shutting down and gearing up for a panic. Shit Shit Shit Shit Shit Shit-

“Uhhh-“ Djarin shuffled awkwardly, fidgeted and looked around his room for a solution frantically.

At this point, Luke had to set a reboot on his brain to save them both. Luke was slightly red in the face when he loudly and bluntly declared that he was going to go and have a shower, and turned to go to the refresher to give Djarin a chance to figure this out.

Luke was in there for a moment before realizing he didn’t have anything to change into or any soap.

“Uhhhh…” Luke expressed his predicament unintelligently.

“Oh fa-“ Djarin said loudly from the room, as if coming to the same realisation. He knocked on the door moments later. Luke readily opened the door considering he hadn’t really done anything yet.

“I’ll go find something you can wear if you would like to change… considering…” Djarin looked awkward to the point of discomfort, but to be completely fair Luke could feel the awkwardness hang in the air between then.

Luke looked down at his grimy tunic and pants. “Yeah, that would be good. Thanks.”

Djarin nodded, still looking uncomfortable. “I don’t know where to find some other soap, so feel free to use the soap I have. Just…” Djarin pushed past Luke to point at one of the four bottles on his refresher shelf. “Don’t use that one because it’s not soap. The biggest one is body wash and the other two are shampoo and conditioner.”

Luke nodded his understanding and Djarin nodded back, obviously unsure what to say. The two stared at each other for a moment in awkwardness, waiting for one of them to do something about the awkwardness.

Djarin moved first, pedalling backwards. “I’m going to…” he gestured behind him to the door with his thumb. When Luke didn’t say anything, he balled his hands up loosely and left with a “… yeah.”

Later, when Luke had gotten out of the shower, the room was empty.

This was, of course, save for the clothes folded on the bed and the mattress that had taken up the only floor space that would fit it. Luke had to step over the mattress at the foot of the bed to get to the clothes that were obviously for him, so it was a struggle not to drip water onto the floor mattress.

This was easily avoidable with a little help from the force. This was a fact Djarin didn’t need to know.

Luke had to admit that the clothes were pretty basic, but he wasn’t sure what he expected with the fact Djarin hadn’t actually expected anyone over.

When Luke exited the fresher for the second time after changing into the plain white tunic and loose brown pants, Djarin was back and taking his armour off. Luke sat cross-legged on the mattress on the floor with a satisfied sigh. Getting rid of all that sand had felt great, regardless of how awkward it had been.

“Sorry about that whole fuss, I honestly forgot about it.” Djarin apologized, sitting gingerly on the bed with a sigh.

Luke chuckled good-naturedly. “Don’t worry about it. I doubt you really wanted some random village boy in your business.”

Djarin shrugged as if it wasn’t a big deal and this happened every other day. “ ‘This is the way.’ ” he said dismissively. Luke got the feeling he was quoting something, but couldn’t work out where it was from. There was a blank silence that rung in Luke’s ears, and Luke decided to fill it by asking the question that had been bugging him since dinner.

“So… why didn’t you eat earlier?” Luke asked politely, confused. “Do you… have an eating disorder, or?”

“I don’t… take my helmet off in front of others.” Din admitted, grimacing about the eating disorder remark.  

“Ever?” Luke asked, puzzled.

“Ever.” Din confirmed. “It’s part of my creed. My religion. There are, of course, exceptions, but the main thing is a hard never. It’s religious in wartime.”

Luke felt sick. The Jedi had captured Mandalorians before, as prisoners of war. He had a vivid memory of a disgruntled Mandalorian tied to a chair in one of their holding cells, their helmet off. He hadn’t realized doing so was a violation of extreme proportions. Luke felt horrified at himself and the Jedi council for doing it, now that he realized it was wrong. It had never been the Jedi way to disrespect others religions like that.

Din seemed oblivious to the way Luke’s face paled, going white, as he continued.

“Others don’t follow the same creed; some follow a stricter one, some semi-strict, some not at all. The main thing is to ask them how strict their creed is before suggesting helmet removal.”

The weight of Luke’s relief was dizzying. He still couldn’t help but wonder….

Had the Jedi ever violated a Mandalorian’s creed? Even knowingly?

“So… what does creed mean to Mandalorians, then? Seems pretty important.”

Djarin stopped in his tracks then, and Luke thought he had overstepped his boundaries, but Djarin went on to explain himself- looking at Luke intently.

“In Mandalorian martial culture, the warriors usually comprise of people who group together by their creed. These groups can be considered… like family units, but they’re not really family. We consider them more like tribes. But don’t think of them like that; only those who have sworn or agreed to be clan with you can be family. But the creeds by which Mandalorian warriors follow are as diverse as the warriors themselves. Sometimes the creeds the warriors follow only have two followers, some have twenty to thirty. They vary by their level of strictness, conservativity, and religiousness, but they all have three main values in common.”

Luke nodded along, drawn in by this new world that was Mandalorian warrior society and culture. For the longest time, he had thought that the Mandalorian horde was a group of mismatched Mandalorian bounty hunters that had coalesced into an army in the interest of Mandalore, united by their hatred of the Jedi. His Jedi comrades weren’t quite sure how the Mandalorian army had formed either, and so hadn’t corrected his assumption. It seemed that he was mistaken in that.

“Those main values consist of but are not limited to; family, valour and victory in battle. These are sometimes associated with the ancient godly pantheon. But that’s in the more extreme traditionalist cases, with gods like Kad Ha’rangir and that type of stuff. The majority of Mandalorian warriors, including myself, do not associate the values with gods but rather subscribe to the Resol’nare.”  

Luke nodded, somewhat understanding but also not quite understanding.

“What’s the Resol’nare?” he inquired, a little distracted by how Din’s hands had stopped moving to demonstrate what he was saying.

“The Resol’nare…” Djarin replied thoughtfully, as if trying to figure out how to best explain and describe it as a concept. “It’s a little like the six main parts of being a Mandalorian warrior. A six-step guide of how to be Mandalorian enough to not lose your soul and ascend to Manda. It’s a little complicated to explain.”

“I see. That’s… really cool!”

Djarin cocked his head at him, his aura flashing white briefly with surprise. “Really?”

“Yeah! I didn’t know half this stuff before you told me. I’ve just been wandering around and hoping I don’t accidentally insult somebody.” Luke admitted shyly with a self-deprecating smile.  

“Oh. Well, I can tell you more if you like?” Djarin offered hopefully.  Luke nodded eagerly like a youngling hoping for another battle story.

“Uhhhhh… well for starters, if someone challenges you to a duel consider carefully whether you’d like to die before accepting it because it is well within their rights once you accept the duel to kill you if they win.” Djarin offered, and Luke choked on air.

“They what-”

“Yeah, so… I’d advise against accepting any duels unless you think you can beat a battle-hardened warrior.” Djarin advised. “So far, your status in the Mandalorian warrior hierarchy is a foundling, so if you have trouble with anyone you can always direct them to me. Most of the time people are understanding once you explain. It’s mostly clear from your lack of armour, though.”

“I don’t need armour to kick someone’s ass.” Luke grumbled to himself, and Djarin started laughing at him from his place on the bed.

“You say that but then you’ll regret it when your hand hurts later, I promise.”

Luke pouted. “I wouldn’t be so sure.”

“You think your bones can survive beskar? Kriffing beskar?” Djarin joked incredulously with a scoff. Luke bit his tongue.

Beskar? That was pretty rare. Luke remarked to himself.

Wait, wasn’t that the extra-special anti-lightsaber armour he’d heard rumours about? Kriff-

“Your armour is beskar?!”

Djarin looked at him like he thought Luke was kidding. “Uh, yeah? Was it not clear by the silver?”

Luke’s eyes widened of their own accord. “Wow. That stuff is pretty rare.”

That was very suspicious. Djarin might as well have raised a third red flag.

Why did Din have such high-class armour when he was clearly only a middle to high-ranking commander? Why did everyone treat Din differently to everyone else and single him out despite his mediocre rank? Why-

“Before you make any barbaric assumptions about who’s corpse I stripped this armour off of, I… uh…” Djarin became sheepish all of a sudden. So, Luke waited patiently instead of saying anything, determined to find out the reason behind it all.

“I’m the heir to the throne.” Djarin finally admitted, a little self-deprecatingly.

Luke couldn’t help the hand that flew to his face in shock. Whatever it was he had been expecting Djarin to admit, royalty was not it. “The Alor named me as the future Manda’lor, and so it was only fitting in the eyes of the people that this armour be mine. I… I honestly never minded what armour I wear, and would rather not have the attention, but…”

Luke stared at the floor blankly in shock. “So, you’re the Mandalorian prince, essentially.”

Djarin spluttered in response, before seeming to deflate. “Yeah. Basically. But I don’t know how long for.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Luke asked, intensely intrigued. Din could provide him with an insight into how Mandalorian power worked. But also, a small part of him was concerned about the dejected and resigned tone his Mandalorian saviour had taken on.

Djarin sighed. “It’s intensely complicated. You wouldn’t want to know.”

“I have nothing but time.” Luke flashed him a smile, hoping a little charm would work. So far, Djarin had humoured him if he smiled nicely at him, and he wasn’t one to mess with perfection if it had been working.

Djarin gave him a measured but exasperated look, a little like an adult who was tired of stupid questions but knew they couldn’t leave them unanswered. It was at that moment Luke knew he had won.

“When I ascend to the throne, I have to accept the darksaber. From that point on, people can challenge me by rite of combat for the throne if they so wish. The ceremony on my birthday will mostly consist of the opportunity for Mandalorian citizens and warriors alike to test their mettle and see if not only they are worthy of the throne, but if I am worthy of the throne. Even then, I may end up starting a revolt against me.”

Luke raised an eyebrow in question, but Din didn’t explain further. There was a comfortable silence where Djarin seemed lost in his own thoughts, and Luke let him think for a while.

Djarin’s stomach growled in the silence they shared.

“Would you like to eat? Sorry, I just realized I probably should leave or something to give you space for that. You must be starving.” Luke fretted, jumping up suddenly. “Here I am asking you to teach Mandalorian culture 101 on an empty stomach. For-”

Luke had to stop himself from saying ‘forces’ in front of a Jedi-killer. Djarin chuckled at him good-naturedly, not seeing his near slip-up.

“It’s no big issue, don’t worry. This chat was important too.”

“Is there somewhere I can take a walk to?” Luke asked politely, pulling his boots on in the entryway as Djarin put his takeaway tiingilar and shatual stick on his desk.

“If you turn right and right again you can hang out on the veranda. It should be empty right now.” Djarin’s force aura smiled as he moved to sit on his desk-chair.

Luke nodded, walking towards the door.

“And, Luke?” Din called out warmly behind him. Luke turned to face him. “You’ll be coming back, right?”

Luke softened. “Of course, my darling.” Luke joked with a grin in a Nabooian farmer’s drawl. He was treated to Din’s laughter as the door whooshed shut behind him.

It was on the veranda Luke received Leia’s message through the force, and he basked in the imprint of the earthy and river-like peace that Leia’s force signature tended to leave with her messages as it washed over him.

Three weeks.

He could work with that.

Chapter Text

Din's neck was sore when he woke up, and that was one thing that had made itself known as soon as he regained consciousness. He sat up, rolling his shoulders until the pain lessened before becoming aware of the fact he still had his helmet on.

Huh-

But then yesterday rushed back to him and he almost fell back onto his bed again in a fit of frustration. Din hated to admit it, but Paz had been right yesterday about how having a foundling could be inconvenient and distract him from the war effort. It was agonising knowing he could help his siblings-in-arms in battle but yet had to stay behind to help Luke. However, he couldn't quite bring himself to think Luke as anything but a pleasure to be around. Perhaps he could see this as a vacation or break instead, however blasphemous that may be.

Luke shifted in his sleep on the mattress on the floor, and Din turned to check if he was awake. He found himself studying the boy instead, now that he couldn't watch him back with that bright, kind and distracting inquisitiveness of his.  

Luke was currently curled up in a fetal position, holding the blanket close with his fist near his heart. Where the blanket didn't cover him around his shoulders, the loose white shirt Din had scrounged for Luke was riding up. There was a hint of a soft, black cord around his neck that outlined his collarbones quite nicely. From Din's vantage point on the bed, he could see a light green tattoo in basic aruebesh. The beginning part of the vertically written tattoo was written from the base of his neck down his spine. The part he could read before it disappeared into Luke's shirt read: 'Crystal cl...' 

Din didn't ponder on what the rest of it could be. It was, however, an intriguing thing for a tattoo to say. 

There was something peaceful about Luke- and it wasn't the fact he was asleep that really sold it. Luke just seemed centred and in tune with the universe the way the rays of sun at golden hour made you focus on the little things and appreciate their beauty better. 

Luke just... carried himself like he had a core made of steel, which intrigued Din on many levels considering that he was just an unarmed village boy. Din's main experience with those who were confident and self-assured were those who had money, power or fighting skill behind them. This serene confidence of Luke's was something he had never encountered before in someone who had none of those. 

He wasn't excessively laidback, but at the same time he wasn't intensely wound up either- it was comparable to the easiness of a loth-cat. Of someone who was used to being both predator and prey, but yet Luke wore this easiness with an intense kindness Din had no idea what think of. It was familiar in a way that itched at him, but he couldn't place where he'd seen that demeanour before other than the warriors of Naboo. 

There was something Din was missing about him, something that tied this peacefulness to Luke's steely core. While Din wasn't distrustful of it- the boy had put his own life in Din's hands and trusted him to be his guide in the intricacies of Mandalorian warrior society, after all.

It was clear Luke trusted him and he wouldn't do that trust the injustice of doubt. There was just something Din felt was missing. Vital to Luke's character but obscured from his vision. 

Regardless, he had to admit seeing the soft sweep of golden hair mussed up while Luke was curled up sleeping was slightly endearing. He hadn't been around people who were as vulnerable as Luke in a while. 

The clear way Luke without armour felt exposed and open bothered him, but he wasn't sure why. 

Din took a shower.

Luke was awake when Din got out of the shower later, yawning and stretching and what not, the singular braid at the back of his head bobbing and swaying with him as he moved. 

Din moved to strap his armour on, focusing on buckle after buckle and strap after strap in the comforting routine of adding a layer of protection around himself before leaving to face the prying eyes of his fellow warriors. Luke disappeared into the refresher for awhile before returning, leaning against the wall of the entryway as it branched into the room. 

"Do you have a comb I could borrow?" Luke asked politely, running his hands through his hair in thought.

Is that what people who don't wear a helmet all the time have to do to their hair? Din's first thought was, before tripping over the fact that he did not have a comb and had not had a comb since he was a foundling.

Din grimaced. "I don't, sorry. I'll have to ask Erin if she does." Luke nodded agreeably. The air this morning was colder and drier, and the pair of them had no words to say while sleepy and hazy. 

Din wasn't sure what came over him, but-

"You look fine, though."

Luke glanced at him, surprised.

He backpedalled. 

"As in, it's just scruffy Mandalorian warriors- no one's too bothered about appearances." Din chuckled.

Luke smiled gratefully. 

They went to breakfast, walking at the same pace. Together.

By the time Din had smuggled his second cup of spiced caf and soup by hiding in the mess hall fresher, he was more of a conversationalist. But it was fine, because Luke had only just really begun to wake up on his third cup of watered down Cassius tea the canteen dished out. 

"This is as weak as piss." Luke put bluntly, staring at the cup on the round mess hall table forlornly. "I may need like... ten of these." 

Din would've laughed at the dramatics of it all if he knew Luke was actually not exaggerating. 

"At this point I don't think the canteen would give you any more. You're only allowed a certain number of portions." Din sighed in sympathy.

Luke raised his eyebrow at Din irritatedly. 

"However I know somewhere to get some proper tea." Din stated gently, assuaging Luke's caffeine related frustrations. Luke perked up, interested. Din shook his head slightly. 

"Later." He promised, keeping his voice down. If he went around shouting about his secret caffeine stash he'd have thousands of Mandalorian soldiers fighting him for it.

Luke seemed to sense the confidentiality of it and nodded slightly, a twinkle of mischief in his eye. He moved on to his breakfast, which was more soup. There was a mango on the table next to his plate which he had seen Luke pick up at the end of the line for food out of curiosity. 

They sat in silence as Luke finished his soup. Din scrolled through his messages on his comm, but they were sparse for the most part. Din wasn't sure if the silence at this point was awkward or comfortable or if his brain was playing tricks on him. 

Luke picked up the mango, turning it in his palm. Din, who had finished pretending he was busy on his holocomm, cocked his head in confusion. 

After a few minutes, Luke looked up at Din abashedly. 

"Do you know what this fruit is?" 

Din reared back in shock. "A mango. It's a common fruit on Coruscant?"

"Really? I mean... I've seen it before, just..." 

"You're telling me you've never had a mango before?" Din asked, incredulous. His helmet moved up and down as if looking to the mango and back at Luke's face to test his sincerity. 

"I haven't." Luke pouted, unsure why this was seen as such a crime.

Din laughed, exasperated. "Gimme that." he huffed, taking the mango from Luke before he had a chance to offer it to him or protest Din's acquisition of the fruit. 

"Hey!" Luke did indeed protest, as Din picked up a knife and pulled an empty metal tray towards himself. Din tugged his gloves off to the intrigued stare of Luke- who seemed to be acting like he's never seen a hand before.

"Yes I have normal hands." Din sighed playfully, and cut into the mango- first splitting it in half, before cutting again around the large white seed in the centre. Luke watched as he took one of the halves and cut four slices down the length of the fruit, before also cutting the fleshy bit of the fruit half down the width multiple times. Din then seemed to push the skin inside out and the freshly cut pieces of mango were suddenly easier to eat. 

"There." Din offered, passing Luke the half he had just cut up. "You bite it off the skin. It's easier to eat that way." 

Din watched as Luke did as he suggested, his pink tongue darting out for just a moment as he pulled the mango bits away from the mango skin. Luke made an appeased sound that sounded vaguely like 'mmmMMM,' with a smile, to try to express to Din he was enjoying it. Din felt a little caught in the headlights of all this- something small and warm bursting in his chest for a brief second that flushed his system. It was just a passing moment, however, and Din didn't try to overthink it as his eyes found themselves unable to look away at the absolute mess Luke was making licking the mango off the skin. 

He busied himself by cutting up the other slice and pushed the plate over to Luke for him to enjoy. Din forced himself to scan the mess hall for someone he knew instead, shaking the moment off. His gaze landed on Paz, who seemed to notice him from across the mess hall. 

Din watched as Paz stood up to come sit with him. He wondered what Paz wanted to discuss.

"Din'ika!" Paz called to him Mando'a, all charm and camaraderie as he pulled a seat up next to Din. 

"I thought I told you not to call me that." Din grumbled out of habit. 

"But, brother, where would the fun be in that?" Paz laughed. Paz had always been an annoying little kriff in the mornings. He always had too much energy to the point it was slightly indecent.

Din rolled his eyes behind his helmet. Paz seemed to be smirking, but Din wasn't too sure.

"How's the foundling, then?" 

Din thought on that question. "Alright. At least I get a break from the war, I suppose." 

Paz nodded amicably. "What do you plan to teach him first?" 

"I have already taught him some Mandalorian culture so he doesn't get killed." Din offered, actually unsure what he was going to do next. 

"Of course. That is only fair." Paz agreed, glancing at Luke appraisingly. "Perhaps..." 

Paz cut himself off, seeming unsure how is suggestion would be received by Din. Din's interest piqued. 

"Perhaps?"

"Perhaps you should see what he is made of, brother." Paz suggested gently. "You know he has to be trained at some point." 

Din crossed his arms defensively. "He's just a village boy, Paz." 

Paz huffed. "He may be a village boy, but currently he is a Mandalorian foundling and he should be treated as such." 

"Exactly! Foundlings never learn to fight so soon after their induction!" Din argued, his voice slightly raised but not shouting. 

"He's older than your average foundling, don't you think?" Paz argued poignantly back. It was Din's turn to huff frustratedly at him. They lapsed into silence as Din considered his suggestion.

"There's something different about him. Something... strong... about him." Paz offered into the silence. Din whipped his head to look at Paz in surprise. 

Paz had noticed the same thing, too. 

But now it made Din wonder- perhaps it was time to test that theory. 

Din sighed, giving in. "I'm only agreeing because it will help him get a little respect from the others." 

Paz nodded, but Din could swear he was grinning victoriously underneath his helmet. He wouldn't be surprised if Paz popped by later to watch the fighting.

"Ke barjurir gar'ade, jagyc'ade kot'la a dalyc'ade kotla'shya." Paz offered by way of goodbye, he got up, seeming to have gotten what he came for. 

Train your sons to be strong but your daughters to be stronger ? Luke translated, confused. Perhaps he was still sleepy. 

"Luke's not a girl." Djarin reprimanded bluntly. 

"He's not, but he's armourless. Same thing, no?" Paz joked. Luke got irritated at the remark. Just because he didn't weigh himself down with the armour the Mandalorians did doesn't mean he was any less of a fighter than they were. 

"Get out of here before I gut you for that remark alone." Djarin replied airily, his threat vague. Paz laughed and walked away. 

Luke raised an eyebrow, intrigued. Luke was more awake and his hands were free now, so he asked about it in Tusken.

'What'd he want?' 

Djarin stopped for a moment to find his words. 'Asking what we were doing today.'

What Luke found interesting was that so far, although Din had had the opportunity to multiple times, he'd never actually lied to him about what he had discussed in Mando'a with people when he asked. Luke found that this was important to note, and increased his respect and trust for Djarin tenfold. 

'And what is that?' 

Djarin laughed. 'Sparring of course.' Djarin said it like it was obvious.

Sparring? 

Luke raised an eyebrow. 

This was going to be interesting. 

Luke nodded agreeably, a devilish smile growing on his face. 'So I get to beat the future Manda'lor in front of a bunch of Mandalorians, then?' 

Djarin's demeanour changed, and he seemed playfully intimidating. 'I don't know, will you?' 

Challenge and defiance flashed in Luke's eyes and chest, his expression growing confident. He felt a burst of exhilaration at how this sparring match may end up: Luke hadn't fought a non-Jedi fighting equal in a while. 'I certainly think so.' 

Djarin's force aura seemed to blinker in beige amusement, yellow elation rising too. 

Their conversation died down momentarily. 

'If we're going to spar I might want to change.' Luke pointed out after giving his clothes a once-over. They were a little too loose for sparring.

"Farrick." Djarin swore, and it was clear he hadn't thought of the small things like that. 'We'll have to visit Erin after breakfast then.' 

Luke laughed richly. 'Sounds like a plan.'

"Erin?" Djarin called, knocking on the door of someone a couple hallways away from Djarin's room. Luke didn't know who Erin was, and Djarin hadn't tried to explain. 

When she didn't answer, Luke looked around at the bland grey hallways for a clock. "What's the time?" 

Djarin took a moment to think about that, looking around for a clock as well before settling on checking his comm. The comm flashed with '9:00 am.'

"She should be awake?" Djarin pondered aloud, confused. The door slid open.

"Din I swear to the gods-" A grumpy and rumpled ginger girl in simple brown clothes answered the door, yawning. She huffed when she saw them. "The kriff do you want now, chum? You know I don't have to be up until 22 for the night shift." 

"Well,-" Djarin started, but Erin cut him off, eyeing Luke up and down. "This the new foundling, then?" 

Luke was startled by her use of 'new.' It insinuated he had had a foundling previously, but then again she may not have meant that. 

Djarin sighed a put-upon sigh, giving her an exasperated and measured look. "Yes. His name is Luke." 

She raised an unamused eyebrow, flicking the flaming red and wispy hair from her face.  "I see." 

Din pushed past her to go into her room, and Erin huffed fondly, but didn't seem overall bothered about it. "Gods, Din- ever heard of courtesy and decorum?!" 

"Thank you for lending me that stuff yesterday." Djarin went for instead, and it was interesting to see his dynamic with this new girl while Djarin riffled through the closet on the right side of the room as opposed to the one on the left side. Something about her made Luke's hackles go up, but he couldn't pinpoint why. It wasn't that she was Mandalorian- there was something Luke was sensing about this friend of Din's that he wasn't given the time to ponder.

"You're welcome." Erin sighed, seeming put-upon and plopping on the bed to the left. She watched Din go through the closet across from her with clear amusement. "But that doesn't give you a pass to just come borrow my brother's clothing when you need to, foundling or no." 

Djarin scoffed, turning to face her. "You know Kiikar wouldn't mind. He's not even here." 

Erin rolled her eyes before focusing her attention on Luke. "Tsk, tsk, tsk, tsk, tsk. Din, you have the fashion sense of a bantha for farricks sake." 

Djarin made an affronted noise. "My fashion sense is fine." 

Erin laughed at him teasingly as she pushed past Djarin to get to the wardrobe they had been fighting over. "It most certainly is not. Look at him! I bet he could pull something nicer off, and here you are giving him a plain white tunic and brown pants." 

"Excuse me?" Djarin defended, incredulous. 

She rolled her eyes at Din, and Luke started laughing. They sounded like Leia and Aunt Ahsoka, in a strange round-about way. The pair stared at him in confusion. 

"Sorry, you just remind me of some people I know." 

Erin raised an eyebrow, but didn't press for more information. He could practically hear her think: Weird.

"At any rate, why are you here?" 

"I don't own a comb." Djarin stated bluntly. 

It was Erin's turn to laugh. "Of course you don't, bucket-head." 

"Here." She ribbed, tossing Luke a basic black comb. "Anything else?" 

"We're also going to go spar, so I wanted to see if there was something more appropriate Luke could wear for that?" 

Erin raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "Spar, you say?" 

Din sighed at that. "You know what I mean." 

Erin made a teasing 'are you sure about that?' face that Luke had seen on Leia a couple of times, and that told him that 'spar' might have... sexual connotations in certain contexts for Mandalorians. Luke felt himself blush.

"Just... can you help?" Djarin tried again frustratedly. Erin grinned and put her hands up in surrender, her brown eyes flashing with amusement as she rifled through the closet of her supposed brother. She pulled a couple of black pieces out, and Luke assumed they were a shirt and pair of pants. 

"Oh, and black is any better?" Din ribbed, grouchy from his fashion sense being insulted. 

"Shun the non-believer!" Erin gasped, seeming playfully insulted and affronted. 

Djarin flipped her his middle finger and herded Luke out of the room as quickly as he could, Luke laughing with Erin as he was pushed out the door. 

After they had stopped by Din's room to get a little more caffeinated and let Luke change, Din lead Luke to the sparring ring- which was empty at this time, as half the warriors were out fighting. 

Din now stood on the outside of the empty sparring ring removing his armour, sans helmet, piece by piece while Luke stretched in the middle of it. It was a little hard to not watch, considering Luke's arms were on display and Luke was the only interesting thing to look at in the barren competition ring. Something about the stretching was distracting, but he chalked it up to surprise. 

He wasn't sure why it hadn't occurred to him before that Luke would be strong, perhaps he hadn't really thought about it before now. Villagers had to farm and do menial tasks quite often, so Din was a little disappointed in the fact that he was shocked by Luke's physical strength. He really should've realised. 

However, (he had to admit) Luke looked great in the loose black tank top and shorts Erin had chosen for him as he rolled his shoulders and warmed up to spar. Din watched, his mouth dry, as the two thin black tattooed lines that ringed Luke's right bicep like an armband rippled with the stretch. Something about the familiarity of Luke's stretches gave Din the feeling he'd done this before. 

"Have you sparred with people before?" Din asked out of curiosity, striding into the unfenced sparring ring and wrapping his knuckles with cloth. 

Luke chuckled. "Yes. We needed something to entertain ourselves with back in the village." 

Din nodded, seeing the connection. He offered the ball of cloth to Luke when he had finished. Din checked the line of the sparring circle hadn't been broken when he had walked through it while Luke wrapped his hands. 

"Scared yet?" Luke teased, balling his fists up when he had secured his hand wrappings, loosening his muscles and shifting his weight to the balls of his feet in anticipation. Din laughed at him outright, and Luke scrunched his face up in irritation. Luke seemed very eager for someone who didn't fight for a living. 

"You know not many people beat me, right?" 

"Sure," Luke drawled dubiously. "We'll have to see if you're all bark and no bite, then, won't we?"

Din smirked. "All I'm going to say is: don't let it get to you when you lose, you're not the first to eat their words."  

Luke raised an eyebrow and closed the distance between them, holding his fighting stance steady while his singular braid wobbled behind him. 

"Bring it on then, Mandalorian." 

Luke threw the first punch, and Din caught it easily. What Din was surprised by was the fact Luke pulled back after that, snatching his fist back as he seemed to anticipate Din's attempt to unbalance him with it. Din recovered from this easily, and landed a punch near his shoulder. 

Something flashed in Luke's eyes; defiance or understanding or something more, and his lips turned up as he fell backwards and used the momentum of Din's blow, doing a handstand and clocking Din in the chin with his feet as he somersaulted upright again, a metre backwards from him. Luke fell back onto his feet into a defensive fighting stance almost instinctually.

Din pushed forward, thinking he'd use the opportunity to take the metre Luke had graciously given Din for himself when Luke rushed him, jumping and planting a singular foot that he packed all his energy behind onto Din's chest to push him back. Din's chest burst with a tingling burn from the blow while he stumbled back. 

Din attempted to grab Luke's foot to use against him, perhaps to throw him, but by the time he got there Luke had already landed on both feet. 

So, Din thought to himself in shock, his initial comparison of Luke to a Loth-cat was not that far off then. Luke was fluid and graceful but strong and decisive. If he was going to beat him with Mandalorian brute force tactics, he was going to need to try a different approach.

Din balled his fists, settling into a defensive position as he aimed his next few punches for Luke's chest so they were guaranteed not to miss. Luke caught the first one but the second one hit home and Luke cried out when it hit his stomach. Din tried to snatch his fist back but Luke gripped it tight, pulling on it and trying to destabilise him.

Din rocked, but didn't falter.

Instead, Din tried to grip the front of Luke's shirt and Judo throw him to the ground on his back. 

This caught Luke off guard and Luke found himself thumping to the floor against his will. He rolled away quickly as Din tried to pin him there in order to end the fight. Luke got up and quickly and subsequently kneed Din in the stomach, taking advantage of his bent over state. Pain flared up in stomach as Din righted himself and tried to land a punch to Luke's shoulder again.  

It had worked last time, but this time Luke simply side-stepped the blows easily, chuckling to himself. Then, Luke landed another punch to Din's chest- and the ache from the attack this time was double, the pain compounded from Luke's last hit. Luke returned to his defensive stance as Din tried to strike him back, sometimes blocking the hits and sometimes not. It seemed Luke was gearing up for something by staying on the defensive, but Din wasn't sure what to.

Finally, Luke had a sudden burst of energy after Din had managed to push him back to the centre of the ring, and suddenly Luke was executing punch after punch in quick succession, putting Din on the immediate defensive as this helped Luke gain ground. Sweat dripped down Luke's face as he landed a spin-kick that took Din off guard to his chest before Din realised what Luke was doing and sidestepped the next attacks, attempting to get away from the edge of the ring Luke had been pushing him to.

"Not." Din growled, punctuating his words with blows that Luke had to work to avoid or block. "So. Fast." 

Luke grinned, feinting a hit to Din's stomach so that he instinctually bent to avoid it and winking when he swept Din's feet out from under him. There was a loud gasp, but Din wasn't sure who had made it. 

Din made to get up, but Luke was already pinning him to the ground and counting. "Ten, nine, eight..." 

Din struggled, trying to push his weight forwards with his chest to use gravity to pull him off- but it wasn't working. Luke had locked him to the ground between his thighs-sitting on Din's chest, grinning mercilessly. His tank top was clinging to his chest with sweat while he panted heavily from exertion. Din felt his mouth go as dry as the desserts of Tatooine. 

Holy kriff that was hot. 

"THREE, TWO, ONE!" A crowd called, and Din was ripped from the moment and back to reality. He turned his head to look towards the seats of the fighting ring to see it populated with a crowd. They were going wild, but Din felt slightly jarred because he didn't actually know at what point they had gathered to watch- he'd been too focused on the fight. 

Luke got up, rolling his shoulders with an easiness that nearly took Din out, and offered an arm to help Din get up. 

"Need a hand then, Manda'lor?" Luke chuckled mischievously. Din was in shock, but had enough awareness to let Luke help him up.

The crowd of Mandalorians chattered excitedly amongst themselves. 

Perhaps Din had underestimated his new friend.

Chapter Text

The nighttime found Djarin and Luke eating a more mediocre dinner than the first night with the rest of the warriors in the mess hall, bantering their way through reviewing the culture rules Djarin had taught Luke, Luke then teasing Din about his loss during their morning sparring session. 

Luke was well aware they were garnering looks as they moved around the mess hall, their presence not going unnoticed by the Mandalorian horde. It was hard to tell in the crowded mess of discoloured armour, metal walls and flooring, and dizzying array of species whether the looks were friendly or not- but he was sure Djarin could gauge that better than he could. Luke just kept his head down and kept to his red gourd soup (as Din had fondly called it) regardless, trying to seem unassuming and less of a threat. 

If Luke was completely honest, Djarin looked quite distracted throughout their conversation- perhaps it was the shock of being beat by a Nabooian village boy, or perhaps it was something else- but Luke couldn't help but wonder if he had offended his Mandalorian protector. 

'I'm going to go back to eat, before doing my chores. Is it ok if I leave you to finish your food?' Djarin asked in Tusken tentatively, seeming more than a little concerned at the prospect of leaving Luke alone in the crowd of Mandalorian warriors. His worry didn't comfort Luke at all, but Luke was more than a little eager to try out his new knowledge of Mandalorian warrior culture without help from Din. 

Besides, he didn't want to be the reason Din had to eat dinner late at night again. Luke felt it would be unfair to Din- he'd made so many small sacrifices to help Luke already, it was only fair to try to keep them to a minimum. 

'Of course.' Luke replied with a smile, before reaching for his vessel of Cassius tea. Luke was starting to get used to the watered down tea- although it had definitely tasted better the first time he'd tried it (not watered down) back at the feast. 

Din stood for a moment, fretting minutely- and Luke could almost see the invisible calculations that whirred in Djarin's head under his silver helmet. 

'I'll be fine- you saw how I could fight. If I beat you, surely no one would think of trying it with me?' Luke joked. Din's mood dampened. 

'That's just what I'm afraid of.' 

Luke raised an eyebrow at Djarin for an explanation, but he just shook his head and left- leaving only purple pleasant peace in his wake. 

Whatever it was Djarin was trying to get at vaporised the moment Djarin left. All of a sudden the weight of the eyes of the Mandalorian horde seemed to get heavier. 

Luke shrugged it off and tried to eat more quickly despite his anxiety rising. Perhaps if he finished quickly he could leave to go and ask Erin where the laundry was before anyone tried to challenge him to a duel of some sort. 

Or worse, try to get into a verbal altercation with him. Luke had caused enough kerfuffle already. 

No one bothered him while he ate, although he had gotten quite a few dirty looks after Djarin had left. Perhaps they hadn't felt brave enough to do so with the heir to the throne sitting next to him, but Luke wouldn't know. 

Luke did get bothered by someone on his way out, after he had deposited his tray on the tray collector near the door. 

"Hey! You! You're the new foundling, right?" A feminine voice called. Luke stopped in his tracks in the barren red clay hallway. 

Luke turned to talk to them, not wanting to seem rude. The Mandalorian in question came forward and stood a couple metres away from him, her helmet off and tucked under her arm. She had long brown hair, darkly tanned skin and crystal blue eyes, and was muscular in the chubby way that boxing champions were. 

"I am." Luke replied cautiously, feeling wary. Despite her non-threatening demeanour, it was still abundantly clear by her discoloured armour she was an accomplished Mandalorian warrior. This Mandalorian had most likely heard about his recent sparring with Djarin and either wanted to fight him about it, or something else entirely. 

"That's so cool! I saw you sparring earlier, and I couldn't help but be intrigued by your fighting style! It's so unique! What was it about your fighting style that helped you beat Djarin?" She praised eagerly, her demeanour not revealing any ulterior motive. She smiled at him slyly but with clear intrigue. 

Luke was taken aback by the appreciation, as it wasn't what he had expected or was used to from Mandalorian warriors. "Uh..." 

The warrior looked at him expectantly, her head tilted a little to the right. Her blue eyes shone with curiosity. 

"Well, Mandalorian fighting styles are based entirely off the use of emotion and brute force tactics. My own personal fighting style is more thinking a few blows ahead and trying to aggressively save energy rather than expend it. Every move I made was either to set up for the next manoeuvre or to end the fight as soon as possible rather than prolong it." Luke tried, trying his best to talk around the fact he had used the force to predict Djarin's moves throughout the whole fight and trying to make it sound more like the fighting style was his own personal fighting style rather than the Jedi fighting style it actually was. 

The warrior raised her brow at him, intrigued. She smiled at him.

"You must be very smart, then?" 

Luke found himself stuck, unsure how respond- he still was unsure what she was talking to him for. Surely she wanted something. 

He smiled and nodded, seeming humbled but flattered. 

The warrior laughed and seemed to find his response endearing. "Well, actually, I'd like to ask- Would you like to get some caf sometime? With me, I mean." 

If Luke had been surprised before, he was shocked now. This Mandalorian warrior wanted to go on a date with him? 

Luke found himself laughing nervously at the proposition. "That's very kind, but ... uh..." How did Luke say this nicely? 

"But?" The warrior inquired brusquely, her eyes narrowing minutely. 

"But..." Luke rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly. "I only like men." 

Understanding dawned in the warrior's eyes, and she nodded politely. "I see. Sorry to bother you, then." 

"It's alright! You didn't know and you wanted to try, I'm very flattered!" Luke went for, trying to be polite and let her down nicely. 

The warrior smiled at him gratefully before leaving, going down the hall the opposite way Luke had to take to get to Erin's room. 

But then Luke changed his mind- perhaps it would be best to go visit Djarin's friend when Djarin was with him. Clearly he wasn't knowledgeable enough about Mandalorian culture to interact with Mandalorians by himself for now. 

Din had been in a haze all day since the morning's sparring. It was hard not to- having been beaten in sparring by his foundling of all people and having the revelation he found said foundling attractive. 

The thing is, once you realise you find someone attractive, you just can't stop noticing. 

Suddenly Din's interactions with Luke felt slightly off kilter, Luke's banter landing differently- there were embers of something in Din's stomach that had caught alight that morning that wouldn't be smothered. 

Regardless, Din pushed it out of his mind. He was visiting Erin for a while- he needed to check up on something. 

"Erin?" 

There was a dramatic groan from the other side of the door, and Din couldn't help but grin. Erin had always been overdramatic. 

The door slid open, and Din was faced with a bed rumpled Erin for the second time today. 

"I assume you're here to see-" 

"Yes." Din cut her off. It wouldn't do for her to go around talking about this out in the hall. "Sorry to disturb, but could I come in?"

Erin sighed and nodded him in, her demeanour more friendly and polite now. Din surmised she had gotten more sleep than she had had this morning. 

Din entered the room, the door sliding closed behind him. Erin settled herself back on her bed and scrolled through something on a datapad, seeming to be just getting up for her day. 

Din ignored her, going to the back of the room where there was a curtained off section that started where the end of the pair of beds began. There was a lamp lit that could be seen through the curtains, and Din stopped to compose himself before going into the curtained off section of the room. 

"Adue?" The green child babbled, recognising him. The green baby was small, and only around the height of Din's foot. His large green ears perked up with the rest of him. Din smiled. 

"Hello, ad'ika." Din greeted warmly, crouching over the makeshift cot that populated this corner of the room. "Have you been well?" 

The child scrunched his face up, pouting, and blew a raspberry. Din laughed. "Yeah. Me too, kid." 

It had been almost a year since Din had found the child wandering around the battlefield, and he'd been taking care of him as much as he could. While he still had no information about what the child's species ate or where he was from, the child seemed to be receptive to most foods- though soup had been the safest food to give him for awhile before he figured the child's diet out. He had once watched in horror as the child had eaten a whole- live- dessert bird and realised perhaps he was precedented in feeding the child more normal food. 

Despite this, the mess hall commonly gave soup to the soldiers to eat, so he just gave his ad some of his soup as per usual. So far, Erin and him had struck up a tentative schedule to make sure the child got time to go outside and eat and such. Erin had an alarm to wake her up at midday so she didn't forget.  

Din told the child about his day as he poured half of his double portioned soup into a bowl, separating it into two portions and taking the container of soup back for himself for later. He also put an open bottle of water next to the soup bowl. 

"Anyway, so I got beaten in sparring by this new guy my age today and I couldn't believe it!" Din exaggerated, being dramatic and entertaining in order to get a reaction from his kid. 

"Ba?" The child sounded questioningly, picking up the spoon in the soup bowl and tentatively trying the soup. 

"Yeah I was surprised too." Din laughed. His ad cocked his head to the side curiously, before pointing outside adamantly. 

"I'll get back to him soon! I just want to make sure you're ok." 

The child gave him a foul look. Din supposed his ad'ika had woken up today and chosen to be grumpy. 

Din crossed his arms petulantly at his ad'ika, if only to hear him laugh. 

"Your buir is making the boy seem less than he is. He's painfully attractive." Erin laughed from behind the curtain, clearly talking to the child. 

Din flushed red and was grateful for his armour's cover. 

"He's..." Din started to deny it, but he couldn't bring himself to. "He might be attractive but he's still my foundling, Erin." 

"Like that matters, it's not like he's your kid. You're both the same age." Erin pointed out, clearly rolling her eyes going by her tone, moving about and doing something behind the curtain.

Din sighed as he saw his ad'ika's ears perk up, his big brown eyes filled with delight. 

"Don't give me that. He's not staying long." Din held out a chastising finger, his tone full of fond warning. 

Erin laughed, clearly disbelieving, as his child's ears drooped in disappointment. 

Somehow, something told Din he'd have to eat his words on this front, too. Though how, he was unsure. 

Chapter Text

When Luke knocked on the door to Djarin's room and asked if he could come in, Djarin sang out something along the lines of 'I'm not finished eating yet, Luke, perhaps go hang out with Erin or something.' 

Luke got the gist and followed his advice, going to visit Erin briefly (to her chagrin) and he inquired where the laundry was, as well as where Luke could find a toothbrush.

"Hmm... A toothbrush?" Erin pondered thoughtfully aloud, strapping into her bright red armour as she talked with Luke. She smelled of Jasmine, and Luke decided she must have just showered. The scent couldn't help but remind him of his mother- who loved the smell (Luke was fairly sure all his mother's toilette was scented heavily with it).

He pushed away the brief moment of missing his mother, reminding himself he'd see her in twelve days. Erin's windows were transparent now where they had been opaque earlier, and Luke guessed it was so Erin could find her way around her room when she came back in the morning.  "Perhaps try the store ? If not you'll need to go into the city for it, so it's best to check the store before going." 

"The store?" Luke questioned, unsure what she was referring to. 

"The base store, of course." Erin said, as if that explained everything.

"You have a store... in your military base?" Luke was surprised. Damn, we don't have a store in our base.

But then again, the Jedi had set up their base in a hurry. The circumstances that had necessitated the Jedi military base was a rather dark and sore subject even for Luke, who hadn't been there to see any of it.

Regardless- the concept was surprising and foreign, but while curious, Luke had to admit that it was a useful amenity to have for the soldiers. 

"Yeah." Erin said slowly, as if explaining it to a child. "If you go to the mess hall, and take a left, go straight for a couple hallways and turn right you should find it." 

Luke nodded, filing the information away for use when he left the room. 

"I recommend you go with Djarin though, it's a little more into Bo-Katan's side of the base." Erin warned, sitting and pulling a black leather boot on. 

"There's ownership of the sides of the base?" Luke asked, interest piqued. Djarin hadn't mentioned this, or even tried to warn him about it.

"Oh, yeah. Absolutely. Djarin doesn't like to admit it, but one reason his commander's quarters are on the right hand side of the base and her's is on the left hand side is because Djarin wanted to bunk closer to the soldiers instead of the rest of the command squad. There was a whole argument about it. In the end the whole design and layout had to change because he had a list of things he had demanded to be taken into consideration. It's probably the only big time he had really stood up for himself to Bo-Katan, but that's probably because if he's seen publicly arguing with her half the army would loose their faith in her." Erin shrugged, watching Luke for a reaction.

"What were his demands?" Luke inquired, intensely fascinated by this new information. Djarin had seemed to him like a very reluctant leader, and a somewhat less aggressive Mandalorian warrior as well, at that. When Bo-Katan (who he remembered was the redheaded bitch that had called him a whore) had insulted Luke, Din had been up and ready to argue with her about it. But apparently Djarin tried not argue with her often, which... Luke understood the reasons for, but it made clear that Djarin must have another reason for limiting his interactions with her beyond their differences in beliefs. 

"First he wanted to organise a section for any soldiers who were from conservative sects and needed privacy- Djarin made it clear both he and his tribe would not be fighting in the war at all if that very basic demand wasn't met. Then, when they came around to organising command rooms- he wanted to be nearer to the soldiers. In the end that was fine, as Bo-Katan wanted to stay as far away from him as she could too. So they laid it out so that the command rooms and rooms for conservative soldiers would line the outside of the main compound, infantry and soldier bunks were put mostly in the centre, the mess hall filling the back of the compound and connected to the other compound so the mess hall was shared amongst everyone regardless of building or rank." Erin explained, pointing outwards and gesturing with her hands as if to aid her explanation. "Ultimately, the military store was Din's idea- he noticed that it would take ages for any soldiers to try leave the compound to get basic amenities, so he asked for one and argued that it would boost the local economy." 

Luke mulled it over, and found himself smiling despite himself. Din seemed to be very considerate, and of course he'd try advocate not just for himself but any Mandalorian warrior from a conservative sect. Bo-Katan didn't strike him as very culturally sensitive, and was glad Din had stepped up to advocate for those who's needs would've not been considered if he wasn't there. 

"Anyway, what ended up happening was that all of Bo-Katan's supporters congregated around her quarters, and anyone who either was neutral or supported Djarin for Manda'lor set up their living spaces near Djarin's. That's why we unofficially have two halves of the compound."

Luke filed the information away. Somehow, he had a feeling it would be useful. 

"You may want to ask Din for a better explanation, as he kind of got forced into knowing the politics of it all, but those with blue on their armour tend to have affiliations with Bo-Katan's 'Nite Owls.' Red or other colours are neutral, but Djarin supporters have been leaning towards red in retaliation of Bo-Katan's blue." Erin grinned, picking up a brush and brushing her wet red hair out to tie it up. 

"I see." Luke commented, digesting the information. 

"Did Din not tell you this?" Erin asked, twisting her hair into a knot. 

"No." Luke sighed.

"Din hates pulling rank. I've been trying to get him to do it more often recently, but he's particularly stubborn about it." Erin huffed in frustration. 

It seemed knowing the heir to the throne was a little more complicated than Luke had originally thought it would be. 

Din didn't speak much to Luke when he returned, just gently took note of the new toothbrush, toothpaste and water bottle Luke now carried and cleaned his room a little while Luke meandered around. 

Somehow, the silence between them was more comfortable than many of the silences Din had shared with people since the war started. There was something peaceful and serene about Luke- it felt like Din was the guest instead, sometimes. Like he'd been given a gift to share some of Luke's energy. 

Din shrugged the feeling off. Perhaps his mind was still clouded by the memory of Luke grinning at him and pinning him down from earlier. 

Luke took a shower, and the water was so comforting to listen to that Din allowed himself to sit with his thoughts for once. The white noise reminded him of rain, and he smiled at that. They hadn't had rain in a while. 

Din knew sooner or later, he'd have to go back on active duty. The Armourer would have his hide if he disappeared from the battlefield for more than a week, but... 

Somehow Din wished he didn't have just a week. There was something domestic; something comforting, about Luke's presence. It was familiar in a way that itched at him- he could swear he'd seen it before. He couldn't keep getting so lost in their banter that he forgot himself. 

What was so familiar about Luke? 

He reminds me of when I wasn't a foundling. When I wasn't Mandalorian; that sense of... home. 

Naboo was a planet of peaceful people, all beautiful and diverse and crystal clear. They were serene in the way Luke was, but there was an edge to Luke that the inhabitants of Naboo didn't have. 

Tatooine was all sharp edges and no softness, it was kill or get killed- survive the suns or get broiled alive from them. While Din knew Luke had spent some of his childhood on Tatooine, Luke hadn't yet showed any evidence of Tatooine affecting his personality. Not enough that Luke might've ended up like Boba. 

No. There was something else. Something in Luke's fighting style and the glint in his eye, there was something ethereal but galactic about Luke's double edged charm- something that told him there was more to Luke than meets the eye. 

More than just Luke's demeanour, his arm tattoos- Din could swear he'd seen them before but while he chased the memory of where and when the memory fled from him. 

"Wouldn't you like to change or shower or something?" Luke asked, and Din startled minutely. He didn't recall hearing or seeing Luke pad his way out of the refresher, but he supposed Luke being barefoot had helped. 

"Uh..." Din commented unintelligibly. Luke laughed, and tossed the clothes that had been sitting on the bed next to Din at him. Din cracked a smile and caught them. 

"Glad you find this so funny then." he quipped. 

"I do, actually." Luke grinned, clearly poking fun at him and settling on the mattress on the floor. 

"Find it funny? Or laugh at me too much?" Din smirked, watching Luke roll his eyes at him. 

Din went to get changed. 

Chapter Text

The morning of the next day was spent in mostly the same way it had been spent yesterday. Getting up, eating breakfast (more soup- Luke was starting to wonder if Mandalorians ate anything other than meat, spice, and soup), consuming as much caffeine the watered down canteen would provide them, making their way back to Djarin's room for Luke to get changed and drink some more (proper) caffeine, and finally, going to spar. 

Luke lost this time, though not for lack of trying on his part. Luke supposed that Din had analysed Luke's fighting style to adapt his own in response to his loss yesterday, but knowing that didn't really help Luke's anxiety. Luke needed to be able to beat Din in a battle if he was to make it out of this venture into Mandalorian territory alive- but this fight wasn't boding well for his chances. His panic rose- sharp and awful- as Luke was held to the floor, Djarin counting down from ten, his force aura a sunset Luke didn't have the space of mind to analyse. Luke struggled, his mind a cacophony of sheer panic and fear, his mind supplying thousands of scenarios of how this may be the end of his life in the future should Djarin turn on him for being a Jedi. Never mind that this was just practice fighting. 

When Djarin let him go, his aura the picture of satiation, Luke wasn't in a joking mood. He wanted to rush back to Djarin's room where his lightsaber was hidden, and he wanted to run and hide in the nearest enclosed space until he could breath easier again. Luke was panting hard with exertion and probably a panic attack, and he still had to pretend everything was fine and that Djarin overpowering him hadn't sent him into a grade A freak out.

This was bad. 

Perhaps he wasn't made for undercover missions, then. 

Luke tried to shake it off, accepting Djarin's offered arm to help pull him up. 

"It's a tie, then." Djarin remarked, albeit cockily. 

"You wish." Luke laughed nervously, feeling jittery and off kilter. Luke focused on slowing his breath, and Djarin let him- he seemed to think his panting was due to the sparring. Djarin stood there undoing his hand wrappings while he waited patiently, turned away.

Breathe in... and out. 

In............. and out.

The force gathered around him like loth-wolves grouping around an injured member of the pack. Luke was unsure if the force had a consciousness, per say, but it was a comforting presence nonetheless. 

By the time Djarin had turned back to talk to him, he'd significantly diverted his oncoming panic attack. Luke continued to focus on his breath as Djarin spoke- he had to make it until he had some time to himself. 

"I bet the fight yesterday helped your street cred, then?" Djarin asked, seeming self-satisfied. 

"It definitely did." Luke replied warily. Then, a thought struck him. "...Did you purposely lose?" 

Djarin reared back, surprised at the slight accusation. "A Mandalorian never gives a fight away." 

Luke was unsure of that, though. While it hadn't felt like Djarin was going easy on him yesterday, he had no idea if it had just been for his benefit. 

"Right." Luke acknowledged the defence, doubt and irritability in his tone. He didn't quite believe Din, and he felt slightly patronised. Luke stalked towards the exit, undoing his hand wrappings as he went in indignation.

"Hey," Djarin called, following him. Luke ignored him.

Luke felt a hand on his shoulder, and it took everything in him to not lash out in response. "I didn't lose on purpose. I was genuinely surprised by how well you fought." 

Din seemed genuine, his compliment sincere. Luke let out a breath of acceptance, the winds of any anger blowing out of his sails. He was just taking his fear out on Din anyway, and Luke felt slightly ashamed of himself. He surely had better mental shields than that.  

"Alright. I believe you." Luke looked up and met Din's gaze, his dawn blue eyes soulful. His hand was still gripping Luke's shoulder, as if if he let go, Luke would run away. 

Luke shrugged Din's hand off, feeling restricted by it, and pressed his cloth hand wrappings into Din's free hand with his own. Din shivered minutely.

They both started speaking at the same time after a beat of silence, before stopping to let each other speak out of courtesy. Luke chuckled, Din let him speak. 

"I'm a little shocked you beat me today, actually." Luke smirked. Din growled. 

"We'll see about that." he challenged.

Luke was startled by Din's tone, and was all of a sudden sure they'd start fighting again on the spot, but Din just sighed. 

"Why don't you go shower first? You look like you need it." Din suggested, and Luke was surprised by the consideration of the suggestion. 

"Oh." Luke was surprised into saying. "Yeah, I... I will. Thanks." 

Luke smiled a small smile. Din laughed. "I guess I forgot that learning a whole other culture can be exhausting." 

"Yeah." Luke agreed gratefully. 

"You remember the way back, right?" Din asked, stepping back towards the arena. 

"I do." Luke nodded. Luke was about to suggest exchanging comm frequencies in case he did lose his way, but then he remembered he hadn't brought his comm. It was still back in his room in the Jedi military base. (He hadn't brought it with him on duty when this whole mess had started.) 

"If you get lost, perhaps try find Erin or any Mandalorians in red armour." Din advised. Luke nodded, leaving, his padawan braid wobbling behind him. 

Luke was meditating when Djarin returned, having had a shower and the opportunity to calm down- because no one so far has come to kill him, or called a witch-hunt on him, so forces damn it Luke get it the kriff together.

The force, as always, was incredibly helpful in aiding his meditation. Thoughts whizzed over his consciousness, appearing and then dying in the void of the force. Luke had very much enjoyed testing the responsiveness of the force to remind himself he was on the right path, and he once again took solace in that knowledge. 

Something bothered him, though: if this was the will of the force, what was he meant to do? What did the force bring him here to change? Luke didn't have any indication whether it was to do with Djarin, or if there was something he was here to prevent. 

Would the force send him on a suicide mission? After he'd trusted it and dedicated his life to studying and harnessing it?

Luke shook the thought off. He'd have to trust that the force had the Jedi's best interest at heart. If this was indeed a suicide mission, Luke was determined to make the best of it. He'd been getting on with Djarin better by the day, and it was actually fun to talk to him now. There was something bright and warm about the heir to the Manda'lor title. 

"How was cleaning up, then?" Luke snickered. Djarin turned and gave him a dirty look that he should have gotten an award for considering Luke could see it despite Djarin's helmet being on.

"Fine. How was the shower?" Djarin asked, making his way to his closet. Luke's eyes caught on Din's muscular thighs as he went, as they were at eye level when Luke sat on the floor-mattress, but then Luke realised he was looking and shifted his gaze away. 

This is really, really, not the time or place or person for this. Eyes front, Skywalker. 

Djarin went to take a shower himself, a change of clothes in hand. "Did you get lost on the way?" 

"Hmmm..." Luke replied, pretending to have to really think about it but smirking to himself. He tapped a pointer finger on his chin thoughtfully for effect. "No." 

Djarin turned at the door to the refresher to look at him. Luke's smirk was echoed in Din's voice when he answered him. "Not sure whether to believe you, mesh'la." 

Luke hadn't heard that word in Mando'a before, and had no clue if Din was insulting him. Din escaped to the refresher byway of explaining himself. 

"Hey! No need to be rude!" Luke called after him, knowing by now that if he spoke Din would still hear it. Luke could hear Din burst into warm laughter in the refresher from where he sat in the bedroom. Luke heard the shower start with a metallic creak. The sound of water pitter pattering comfortingly against ceramic set him at ease enough for Luke to call out again. "I'll have you know I got hit on yesterday night." he called petulantly. 

Luke could swear he heard a thump from the refresher. Aside for the sound of the water, there was a moment where it was silent. 

"You what-" Din shouted out to him, his voice clearly shocked. 

"Yeah." Luke called back, grinning smugly. 

"Did- Did you accept?" Din asked, his voice unsure. 

Luke stared at the blank grey wall of the refresher, thinking back to what happened yesterday night. "No, of course not." 

"The kriff do you mean of course not? Mandalorians aren't that bad." Din seemed affronted and slightly offended. Luke couldn't help but laugh at that.

"It wasn't about that, Din." Luke rolled his eyes and sighed dramatically. "She seemed female, and I like guys." 

It was silent for a beat. 

"That's fine, right?" Luke called, suddenly unsure whether he should be admitting his sexuality like this. He wasn't sure how liberal Din was, but at the same time, they both seemed as liberal as your average Corasanti. 

This time Din's reply was immediate. "Yeah, of course. Why wouldn't it be?" 

Luke was puzzled. Did Din not realise that homophobia still occurred, although at a smaller scale? Even in a galaxy as diverse as theirs?

"Wh'dya mean?" Luke inquired, and Luke heard the water for the shower squeak off. He waited patiently, comfortable in the domestic sounds of Din's home. It was probably the only familiar thing about the Mandalorian compound. 

Din came out of the refresher awhile later, helmet on but no other armour present. It was a little jarring to see, but also strangely humanising. 

"What did you mean?" Luke asked again for Din's benefit. Steam followed Din out as he hung a towel on the rack on the hallway wall. 

"Well... Gender for Mandalorians is a little bit of an abstract concept. Sexuality... is also a very personal thing that we don't really define. Most people just assume you might be into them unless you say otherwise." Din shrugged like this was a fact of life, and sat on his bed, scooping up his holocomm on the way. 

Luke tried not to be jealous he had his holocomm with him, and was somewhat successful. 

"Hmmm... interesting." Luke acknowledged. And it was. Interesting, that was. The Jedi had a similar view towards gender and sexuality- gender is just this big abstract concept that depended on the person and their relationship to the force, and sexuality was really no one's business unless you wanted to label it and talk about it. Sexuality for the Jedi was more to do with you and your relationship to the force and how that worked in relation to your body. (According to Anakin and Obi Wan, apparently. Everyone refused to talk about it to him- mostly because it was technically Obi Wan's job to teach Luke such things anyway.) Luke had found that Ahsoka, for example, had a practical but taciturn relationship with the force and she also showed that behaviour with the women Luke had seen Ahsoka get with. 

"But I suppose sexuality is a little more structured back on Naboo." Din commented, scrolling through some messages on his comm. 

"Yeah a little bit." They weren't the Jedi, but they were still fairly liberal. 

It was silent for a spell, as Din took some time to catch up on his messages and Luke gazed out the window in thought. The sun was blessing the dry dirt of the Mandalorian dessert at this hour of midday, and everything seemed a little overexposed. Luke got up to opaque the window a little, pressing the button on the side. 

His movement stirred Djarin, who stood up and spared him a glance. 

"Hungry?" he asked. 

"I thought you'd never ask." Luke replied dryly, his mouth quirked to the side in a half grin. 

Whatever the force has in mind for me, I might as well enjoy it. 

Chapter Text

4 days later... 

Din strapped into his armour with a dim sort of grimness and sense of foreboding, the window still opaqued so the morning light didn't stream in. The light that made it through barely lit the room up with a thin film of light as he moved about the room as quietly as possible, going around gathering things he needed for the day. 

Luke was still asleep, and Din let him continue. Din didn't really want to say goodbye persay- didn't want to make a drama of his leaving. He'd grown attached to the man, somewhere between their sparing and banter. 

The dim light stretched across the planes of Luke's sandy coloured skin, illuminating long-ish golden hair and muscle definition while casting the rest of his body into darkness. There was a certain quietude about the way Luke's jaw was slack and the quiet breaths he took, and how his light green upper back tattoo seemed to glow a little brighter in the dim light that spotlighted it, while his arm tattoos were covered by the sleeve of his sleeping shift and thrown into shadow. 

It was the end of the week, and Din knew he had to go back to the battlefield today. Something in him wished he didn't have to go back- he was enjoying the peace of his new routine. A peace he hadn't felt in so long- but he knew he couldn't stay back for long without questions being raised about his suitability for the throne. The Armourer had already warned him that taking on a foundling in a time like this was risky, especially with those who weren't quite as conservative as them- his break from the war could sway their faith in their future Manda'lor. 

She'd already questioned why Luke was still here if he was supposed to go back to his senator. Din had shut her question down quickly, mentioning that Luke was incredibly curious about Mandalorian culture and he couldn't refuse the man his curiosity. Not when he was willingly attempting to grow a Manda. 

The Armourer was quiet after that. Even she couldn't fault Din's foundling his curiosity, not when it meant that to them he was starting to grow a soul of his own. The most sacred thing an outsider could try. 

Regardless, the Armourer had told him that Bo-Katan wanted him to lead the morning's charge. She had said Bo-Katan had said something about 'payback for letting your foundling enter my half unharmed' or something of the sort. Din had rolled his eyes at that; Bo-Katan had always been territorial at best. He assumed she was talking about the time Luke had gone to the store to get toothpaste and a toothbrush. 

Din was sitting on his bed, sipping some caf and deep in thought. He was startled by Luke sitting up and yawning.

Luke took a moment to really come to his senses, stretching and yawning and the like. The spots of light making him look warm. Din had wondered if everyone from the core was so dramatic about waking up or if it was just a Luke-ism. He still wasn't sure.

"Morning." Luke greeted, a small smile gracing his face and a yawn that crept up on him following after it. 

Din felt a smirk quirk it's way onto his face behind the helmet. "A little early for you, huh?" 

Luke rolled his eyes, moving towards the refresher. Din had found that Luke had a habit of waking up at dawn, one only broken by Din if he blocked the light streaming in from the windows. 

They'd figured out a rough routine, and Luke had a couple habits that Din had come to know. Luke would wash his face, stretch, and get changed upon waking up. Somehow; Din couldn't place when that had happened, exactly. It certainly felt like it was something that had always been that way, as reliable as the sun rising in the morning. 

Luke returned to the main room from the refresher, stretching on his way back, having splashed his face with water. "Why're you up so early?" 

Din sighed. He had thought he would escape having this discussion entirely, but here he was. 

"My tribe chief has decided that I need to go rejoin the war-effort. The excuse of having a foundling won't last forever, I'm afraid." 

Luke turned his head to the side in thought. "I see." 

But the affirmation hadn't been just a confirmation of understanding- it hadn't been positive. It'd been curt, bellying a tinge of hurt. 

Din tried to make the most of it. "I'll be back later, I have some reading for you instead." 

Luke watched curiously as Din handed him a reading datapad. "Some boring culture books, I know, but it should be helpful in getting you to understand why Mandalorian warriors are the way we are." 

Din studied Luke's reaction to it, and he looked placated. Luke seemed to feel a little better at that. 

"If you don't want to see anyone else you don't have to- I'll go get some soup or something you can eat for later." Din tried. He had always had a niggling feeling Mandalorians made Luke feel uncomfortable, and it was only confirmed by the small smile Luke had offered him in response. 

"Thanks, Din." Luke replied with a budding small smile, and this time his affirmation of understanding was warmer and more personable. Din felt he was on the right track here. 

Din nodded in response.  

"What book is this?" Luke inquired after him, hugging the datapad to his chest while Din had moved to step out of the room. 

Din paused. "It's an analysis of the Resol'nare by an outsider. I thought it might help you understand it better." 

Din had thought that giving Luke the Resol'nare would be a bad idea, although Paz had tried to push him to do so. The Resol'nare was a sacred text and shouldn't be taught lightly, especially if it was being used purely as an anthropological guide. If Din was to teach the Resol'nare he wanted the assurance that Luke would follow it's teachings and not make his teaching of it blasphemous.

But Din also didn't want to push Mandalorian religion onto Luke- as pushing it onto him would only make Luke averse to it, and Din had the strange feeling that Luke already had a religion. He couldn't quite place why he felt that way, but he trusted his intuition. 

In any case, the book Din had found for him was the happy medium between teaching the concepts of the Resol'nare, which built the foundations of Mandalorian warrior culture, and not trying to force Luke to make a religious choice. 

"Oh." Luke said, his voice small with surprise. His smile grew more luminous at that. "Thanks."

Something in Din's chest warmed. There's the Luke he knew. 

"... You're welcome. I'll be back with takeaway before I head out." Din replied.

He realised he was still smiling by the time he got to the end of his hall. 

Din was already irritated by the time he got to the weapons room for the first time since Luke arrived. A fight had broken out, and he was surprised by the sudden flash of longing he already had for the enjoyable morning sparring sessions of the past week.  

"Alright, mother farrickers, I'm in a bad mood this morning so I better not catch y'all fighting again. Got it?" Din called out in Mando'a as he swanned into the room, letting the irritation seep into his tone as he got between an armoured red Mandalorian and an armoured blue Mandalorian's brawl. His tone and intimidation tactics seemed to chastise them enough for them to stand at attention immediately. 

"Yes sentinel!" They both chirped, saluting. Din internally sighed; he really hadn't missed pulling rank. He wished people would stop calling him sentinel- technically his rank was of Lieutenant. The only reason he was called sentinel was because he was technically the sentinel of the darksaber, to protect and guard it until he was of age. 

Regardless he really hated being in the position of authority he was in because it meant others had to look to him for instructions. Half the time Din had to pull those out of his ass, and not only that, he had to present this unbroken image of power and egotism to get any respect from his fellow warriors. It was absolutely kriffing exhausting. 

"Fall into line." Din requested, injecting authority into his tone and waiting at the large militia exit door from the weapons room. The assembled Mandalorians scrambled to gather their weapons and arrange themselves into the neat rows Bo-Katan and her Nite Owls had taught them. 

"Alright. This morning my chief and General Bo-Katan informed me that we're going to attempt a wave-attack to try to gain some ground." Din pulled up a holo of the battlefield while warriors shared doubtful glances amongst themselves that Din ignored. 

"While I don't exactly agree with the strategy, the General has placed me in charge of leading this attack; so can the highest of rank here please step forward so I can brief you individually?" There was more surprised glances amongst the assembled warriors, some worried, some excited. Finally a couple at the front stepped forward after a moment, having silently found the courage to do so from their comrades.

"At your service, sir." The taller one armoured in purple said respectfully, saluting him at the same time as the blue armoured one did without comment.  

"Good." Din said curtly, before leading them off to the hallway to talk. Din nodded at the purple one, who called out 'At ease' after them as they left. 

Somewhere, something had changed. 

Between his starlight demeanour and the way Din just seemed like an anchor in all this unknown- Luke had started to warm up to him.

He had let go of the fear that this would end in tragedy. It may, but-

Luke trusted the force... and now Din, too much for that. 

After a week of watching Din carefully- trying to bond with him, but also keeping him at a slight distance for his own safety- he felt that he could safely say Din had earned Luke's tentative trust.

Between the engine warm laughs he had managed to coax out of him to the way he resolutely refused to use Luke's lack of knowledge about Mandalorian culture and language against him- his unfailing iron integrity, his camaraderie and excessive kindness... 

Luke was starting to wonder if he was giving back to Din enough. Starting to wonder what he could do to repay all of those things- he wouldn't entertain the ridiculous notion that Din disliked him, or wasn't worthy of his trust. Din had showed his trustworthiness to him multiple times over. 

Sometimes... (and Luke was ashamed of this urge) he wanted to show Din the Force, wanted to try share some Jedi culture in return- just to try and repay him for his patience with Luke. It would be cool to teach Din something, for once. To share the magic of the Force and watch his aura light up in bright yellow joy. 

But then reality crashed back into him- if Din found out, he'd be a corpse pretty quickly. Din wouldn't think... wouldn't think the force beautiful- he was fearful of it like the rest of the Mandalorian horde. If he tried that, it would end pretty gruesomely.

Luke's stomach turned at the thought, his stomach jagged and painful- filled with broken glass. 

It was nice to dream, though. To imagine a fantasy of a Jedi and Mandalorian being friends so openly.

To be able to drag Din through the Jedi Temple on Coruscant to the secret backdoor- laughing at him as he complained about it- and show him the secret night market that had wormed it's way into the temple basement unnoticed. Luke would buy him a Jogan fruit and laugh as he tried to figure out how to eat it, hints of grey confusion ringing him as the market hawkers spied on them as they usually did with any visiting Jedi. 

In this life, or perhaps not, but... in another-

Could they be friends?

It took half an hour to explain his wave-attack plan, starting with what defences would be used, possible usage of jetpacks for gaining the high ground -if the Jetii overwhelmed them- and ending with Din's role in all of it. Finally, when his two ranking officials had understood the plan, he let them explain the plan to the group while Din sent a comm to Erin in the hallway- asking her politely if she could check on Luke along with his small green foundling when she got up briefly for lunch. 

He got a huff and 'alright Manda'lor' in response. Din wanted to kill her, but didn't have the time or energy.

When they got out into the battlefield, Din felt back in his element. The closest he tended to feel to any sort of religion was when he was looking down the barrel of his blaster. The satisfaction of having his blaster back in hand and at work eased his irritation at having to pull rank a little bit. Din felt his shoulder muscles loosen as he and his troops rushed out with blasters first. 

There were Jetii and Mandalorian bodies littered, their blood spilt, on the battlefield. The injustice of it itched at him, but Din didn't try to attempt to ease that desire through fidgeting. Din couldn't show weakness in front of his men, and couldn't change the war until he rose to power. It was a moral stalemate that turned his stomach every time.

Despite the fact that Din was sympathetic to the Jetii- they were still a faceless enemy to him for the most part. Just another non-Mandalorian trying to kill him-albeit out of a complete misunderstanding, but still. But with Din's stomach clenched and churning, he tried to maim and injure instead of kill anyway- moving as defensively as he could while still leading the group on the offensive. 

Din might have some Jetii blood on his hands, but none of those deaths had ever been out of hatred- only out of pure necessity. He had less of it than most Mandalorians, he knew. War did that to everyone. It was hard to maintain the fiction of morals in the face of someone with a light sword attempting to make a shatual stick out of him, but Din was very lucky to have beskar. The beskar eased his conscience bit by bit by keeping his life out of danger long enough for him to make compromises with Jetii lives.

Every now and again he reflected on the deaths of those Jetii he'd had to kill, and wondered what that made Din. Was he a hypocrite for trying to push for a peace treaty when he'd already spilt the blood of his enemy? Would the Jetii even trust him?

Din had felt guilty about the Jetii that had died at his hands particularly when he had come to a conclusion about the baselessness of this war, but at the same time... He didn't feel as guilty as he felt that he should feel about the injustice of his own actions... Was Din a horrible person for self defence in war time? 

The ranked officials he had briefed for their offensive assault were fighting valiantly, doing exceptionally at keeping the troops together, focused and on task. There had been platoons Din had had to command that had broken off into factions the moment they had left the compound and forgotten what the plan was. It had been very messy, and he had had to wade through bodies to scrape a retreat. 

The Jetii were equally brave, and fought just as well as they did. It only took thirty minutes for the Jetiise to realise the Mandalorians had sent their better fighters and a beskar-laden warrior to fight them this morning. It wasn't long until he recognised the ginger haired general that had made his way towards him. 

When the ginger haired general that Din recognised as General Kenobi saw him, he stopped and moved to engage him. 

"Fine day this is," General Kenobi quipped in greeting when he neared, a wry smile on his face. He still had his blue light sword on and raised against him in preparation and in a defensive stance. 

"It definitely is." Din commented back with a nod. Kenobi's engagement of him had given Din a slight reprieve from the battle; as no other Jetiise wanted to disturb their civilised face off. Din had definitely come to respect the Jetiise ability to be polite, civilised, and respectful in battle, even in a war.  

"If I might ask- purely out of interest," Kenobi mused, eyeing Din's armour. "Is that beskar?" 

Din felt faint surprise that Kenobi even knew of it. Not many Mandalorian warriors wore it. "Yes. You know of it?" 

"Let us say... I know of you, sentinel." Kenobi stated, civilised challenge creeping into his tone. He swished his light sword as an embellishment to the statement. Din was rocked to his core when he came out with Din's title in Mando'a. 

To say Din had his beskar spear poised defensively as quickly as a loth-wolf could pounce was an understatement. Where would this Jetii have heard about Din's title? Only Mandalorians really knew of it. Din would understand it if he was already Manda'lor- then it would be more common knowledge, but only Mandalorian insiders knew of his heir status. 

"Care to share how?" Din asked, a barely held back threat of violence in his voice. There was something disturbing about the General's insider knowledge that Din couldn't place.

Despite Din's threat, the man just seemed semi-amused at the whole situation. That just got onto Din's nerves even more. 

"The locals have been informative." Kenobi shrugged nonchalantly, appearing happy to poke holes into Din's high-strung warrior demeanour. Irritation mounted in Din's stomach area- who the kriff did this Jetii think he was? 

Din took a steadying breath. It wouldn't do to unnecessarily kill a Jetii out of pure annoyance. Not after he promised himself he would only do so out of self-defence. Not just for moral reasons, but he understood that now the small Jetii green child was his foundling- he was honour bound to not kill his foundling's people. 

Kenobi shifted into a fighting stance, his blue light sword raised above him in a striking position, his left arm poised in front of him. Din supposed the man was done talking to him, and he was happy to accept the clear invitation to rough him up a little. Din stepped in, striking the man with his spear- knowing it would be blocked by the light sword. 

They exchanged parries, the spear heating up with it's contact to the light sword, as Din pushed him back a little. Kenobi used his mystical Jetii powers to push him backwards and Din had to dig his feet into the ground to keep from loosing too much ground. 

Strangely, the quick succession of back and forth blows that put Din on edge reminded him fleetingly of his sparring with Luke- Kenobi and the other Jetii had incredible reflexes that always grated at Din's nerves. He had to be hyper alert all the time to stay in the fight when engaging them. 

Kick, jump, magic push- parry, strike, block, parry- clang, thump, clang-

Riiiip-

Din had landed a swipe to Kenobi's right shoulder, and the tip of his spear tore the sleeve of his tan Jetii robe right off. The sleeve hung by a thread as Kenobi jumped back to avoid any other blows. Din didn't attempt any, he'd caught sight of something on Kenobi's arm that had thrown him into shock, his heart stopping dead in his chest- he'd stopped moving altogether. 

On Kenobi's right bicep, was five thin, black tattooed lines. 

Chapter Text

Luke had spent the day reading the text that Din had given him that morning. As dusk approached, Luke had ventured out to sit in the slowly cooling sand and watch the setting suns with a cup of Cassius tea that he had brewed. The mellowness and familiarity of the taste made him feel centred and focused. 

He had taken the opportunity to meditate when sunset approached, and had arrived at a state of peace he hadn't been able to achieve since he had left the Jedi temple to fight on Mandalore. It surprised Luke how easily he achieved this level of connection with the force- he'd had to fight the force to achieve only half of this last week with Obi Wan. 

By dusk, Luke caught the growl of a speeder from afar, and moved to an upright position in the white sand so he could see where it was coming from. Luke caught a glimpse of silver and a rudimentary military speeder travelling around sand dunes- but he recognised the beskar helmet coming towards him. Luke smiled to himself, despite the fact he was dripping in sweat, and stood up; stretching. Perhaps he would ask for some  clarification on the idea of the Mandalorian Manda when Din arrived- it had puzzled him. But perhaps his difficulties conceptualising it had something to do with his connection to the force.

But the closer Din got, the clearer he could see the outline of his force aura- and it was bright and angry red. 

Luke's stomach dropped, and his heart rate picked up.

He'd been rumbled. 

Din had gone straight to his room as soon as those who had returned from the day's battled had been debriefed. He'd worked himself up into a full on coiled up strop by the time he arrived at his room, expecting Luke to be there. 

Question after question and frustration after frustration built, the whirlwind of his emotions building like a kettle on boil- steam filling him up until he felt he was going to kriffing pop. 

When he wasn't there, Din had just about stormed Erin's room looking for him. Erin had been shaken by his seemingly random anger, keeping quiet, her usual joking jibes absent- but she said the last time she had seen him was around lunchtime. 

"Is everything alright, Din?" She had asked, looking genuinely worried. 

"It's fine." Din had growled. He felt some regret at having been short with her, but the one thing on his mind at the current moment was how much he wanted to wrangle the truth out of his deceitful smiley Jetii. 

Din had put his heart on the line for this farricker, and he had lied to him. 

Kriff all that shit about how the Jetii were victims, this was now personal. Din practically seethed to himself. He wasn't thinking straight- hadn't been since Luke had arrived. There was something about the guy that just dug under Din's skin and stayed there. It was driving him crazy. 

When Din had found Luke (Erin had bluntly told him that Luke had gone out), he jumped off of his speeder and stalked towards him-fury clear in every line of his body. 

"Who are you?" Din demanded, voice already raised, facing Luke.

"Luke." Luke put simply, seeming a little puzzled by his question. Din could see the anxiety rise in his eyes. 

Din let out a very deep huff, struggling to find a way to release this anger in a way that was either productive or coherent. 

"Those tattoos- why does Jetii General Obi Wan Kenobi have the same ones?" Din growled, glaring at Luke and gesturing to Luke's right bicep. His stomach felt like it had been filled with glass shards and the pain of it lined his throat and stomach until it felt like it was choking him or someone had taken a jagged shard and cut their way down his oesophagus.  

Din repressed it. He needed answers. And now. 

Luke looked as if Din had blown his windows out in one big blow. Shuttered, his expression collapsed. 

"He's my Uncle." Luke admitted, eyes shifty. Luke wouldn't look at him straight and that told Din he was on the right path here.  "Grandpa, technically, but he hates being called that." 

Din felt so pissed he could spit at this point. "And why would a Nabooian village boy have a Jetii Grandfather?" 

Luke sighed, being obstinate. "We don't choose our family."

"But we do choose to lie to people who have tried to help us, apparently." Din nearly snarled. He immediately regretted it- admitting that it hurt him felt too vulnerable, too accusing. 

A pained look flashed on Luke's face; and it was like a match about to strike the matchbox- outrage flared in Luke's eyes. The sand around them swirled aggressively with a passing wind. 

Somehow, it felt like the red of the sunset and the anger of Luke's expression had aligned- he looked suddenly powerful and strong and nothing like the Luke Din had started to care for and Din felt a tsunami of rage drag him down at the remembrance of Luke's stinging betrayal. 

"Do you really think I didn't want to tell you?!" Luke's voice struck a hairpin balance between outrage and misery. "Din, I thought you would kriffing kill me-" 

"And why would I do that?! When did I ever raise a finger against you outside of training?!" Din yelled back at him, voice coloured and painted with an ache that cut deeper in his chest than Din wanted to admit. 

"Because you hate the Jedi, that's why you're fighting this war! Or did you forget that your people are trying to wipe mine out-" Luke reasoned desperately, tears springing to his eyes. A hunk of metal that Din recognised as a light-sword hilt flew into his hands from his boot and he gripped at it like a life-line. Luke didn't light it, though, Din noticed. 

"If you knew the first thing about me you'd know I want this war over as much as you do- I kriffing sympathise with your people for farrick's sake, just-" Din stopped to let out a weak sob- not aware of how hard this had hit him until he found rivers streaming from his eyes under his helmet- how'd he manage to care so much about this stupid Jedi boy in such a short period of time, he didn't know. But kriff, he was sobbing now and his insides felt horrible- they writhed in his stomach like a bunch of angry, caged, hissing snakes. 

Luke stopped, seeming utterly shocked. Horror filled his eyes, but the damage of his dishonesty had already been done.  

"You didn't have to lie, Luke. Why-" Din couldn't stop the dart of stinging pain at the betrayal of it all. 

"Because I thought you would kill me." Luke stressed tearfully, seeming to plead this time. Din's chest ached in a whirlwind of emotions- sympathy, anger, misery- 

"But why would you assume that of me? Surely it's not the Jetii way to assume the worst of your enemy?" Din asked grimly and sincerely. Din needed to know the answer- needed to know if this was just some big Jetii plot to infiltrate their enemy, needed to know if the Luke he knew and loved was just an illusion. 

He had a feeling it would tear him apart and leave him broken if it was. 

"Because I farricking watched Mandalorians kill my friends, Din! I kriffing watched as they were gutted and bled out on the farricking battlefield, and I don't even know what they died for. They died in a baseless farricking war and all because you people can't keep your kriffing bigotry to yourselves!" Luke shouted, hot and angry tears streaming down his face. "DO YOU KNOW HOW THAT FEELS? HOW MUCH YOU SUFFER WITH THAT KNOWLEDGE?!" 

"YOU DON'T THINK I HAD TO, TOO? YOU don't think I haven't watched your people farricking SKEWER friends of mine like farricking SHA'TUAL on your kriffing light swords?" Din shouted back, voice hoarse and angry and full of despair and past pain. Din sounded like he'd been in absolute agony over this war for years- so empty at the thought of losing more people- Luke felt a pang of heartache for him in response. Din's angry words seemed to be wrenched from his chest- like it took so much of him, too much of him, to admit he wasn't this stoic and unfeeling leader he was supposed to be. 

Luke's breath was coming in quick gasps that tried to keep up with the immensity and weight of his anger and frustration. It hurt. Like lava and hot sand churning somewhere in Luke's stomach, and there was just Luke and this horrible churning he couldn't fix.  

But then it deflated- the wind of it blowing out of his sails. They both had suffered- had both grieved for loved ones, both endured such misery, despair, and anguish from this war at the hands of each other's people. 

The trouble was moving past that. The trouble was getting up and choosing to forgive. Getting up and finding the strength to be the one to trust first. To try again in good faith- not just for yourself but for thousands of other people. 

Luke was faced with a choice- lose Din, his newfound friend, and any chance at ending this war peacefully... or the hard thing; getting up and finding the strength to fix this.

Something swirled in Luke's stomach, tightening with his throat as it threatened to squeeze so hard Luke was briefly worried his muscles would snap and he'd suffocate. He felt sick- like something was laid out and shattered in the space between them. Luke was struck by the impression that that something might be his heart, but he couldn't quite admit that to himself yet.

I wonder what you'd say

Luke felt a fresh tear escape his right eye in sorrow, his eyes pooling with water like the waterfall alcoves he'd find solace in as a child on Naboo. He had the urge to escape to them now- run and run until he found the very same waterfall he used to go to and cry at until his mother or grandmother found him and held him through the storm. A motherly smile on their faces as they stroked his hair in soothing motions until the tears dried up. The trappings of growing up- of this war and adulthood and the knowledge he had to face this without those same comforts made Luke's breath come in short pants with how much everything just hurt.

"Din-" 

if I told you that i'd wait for you

in every passing day 

"If you want to leave, you're welcome to. I won't chase after you." Din's cold voice wavered unhappily, and a spark of hope kindled in Luke's chest. 

Luke glanced towards the horizon. He could see the Jedi barracks only an afternoon's walk away. For the first time since he arrived to the Mandalorian military compound, he felt no desire to go back. Especially when he knew what it would mean. 

He gulped his trepidation down, heart rattling in his throat. 

would you give it time

like i give mine 

"Luke Skywalker." Luke tried, his voice breaking with the despair that had been filling him up since Din had implied he should leave. He didn't want to go. Not without trying to fix this, at least.

"Huh?" Din replied out of reflex, surprised out of his own tears. 

"That's my name." Luke clarified, stepping towards him. He bowed minutely out of respect, as was Jedi custom when introducing oneself. Luke's heart was hammering in his chest in anticipation and fear and hope and- Please, forces, let me try again. 

oh, if you didn't stay... i would wait anyway 

"Skywalker?" Din asked, shocked. 

"I... The Jedi aren't supposed to have families ...or attachments really, but... it's... it's a secret." Luke went on nervously, rubbing the back of his neck out of habit for comfort. This felt right. Although terrifying, the surrendering of this part of himself felt right. Like this was the one thing that might fix this. An offered sacrifice- a sign of faith in their relationship. 

Luke wasn't sure why he felt it was so imperative to fix this. Why it hurt so much that he had broken Din's trust- kriffed up their whole relationship and landed in this mess. 

But yet- Luke was willing to expose his deepest secret if only to make it right. If only to stop hearing those sobs and that betrayed tone in Din's voice. He wasn't sure when that had happened. When he'd come to care about his Mandalorian saviour this much. He wasn't sure if he wanted an answer to that. 

cause anything, anything

for another run with you 

"My father... you may have heard of him- Anakin-" Luke explained, and now it truly felt like wrenching his heart out of his chest and attempting to offer it to Din by baldly admitting his parentage. Luke's heart was running a marathon and he felt so kriffing nauseous. "My mother is the senator of Naboo. Perhaps you know me better as Luke Naberrie." 

Din was silent; his body language betraying nothing, and it felt like he had been lined up in front of a firing squad- waiting for the execute command. Luke had the vague impression of shock from Din through the force- but he couldn't really tell, their bond was in question now. 

"Luke Naberrie?" Din repeated, slight puzzlement in his tone. "I don't quite remember hearing about a Luke Naberrie, but..."

Luke held his breath. He couldn't stop crying. 

Please...  I don't want to lose you, friend. Not when I just got you. 

Din stepped towards Luke. The spaces between them still large. Certainly larger than the spaces they had shared previously. The desert was big, but the space between where Luke stood and Din did felt larger somehow. "Nice to meet you, Luke Skywalker." 

no, i don't understand why 

anything, anything could make it not be true

"Very nice to meet you too." Luke responded. He felt something catch aflame in the depths of his chest, and found the corners of his lips turning up of their own accord.

Luke was suddenly incredibly aware of his situation; still clutching his lightsaber like a child would cling tightly to a stuffed toy. A thought struck him, and he decided to follow it. Din cocked his head in confusion at him as Luke decisively crossed the spaces between them and grasped one of Din's hands- pressing his lightsaber into the hand he had just picked up with his own. 

oh, i would do anything to be with you 

Maroon shock rippled through Din's aura as Luke stepped away. 

"Luke, this-" 

Luke interrupted him, hand raised in a 'stop' motion. "I want to take the first step, this time, Din. I... I want to show you that you can trust me."

Din looked at Luke, seeming stunned. "But I would never ask this of you, I know what it means-"

"I know. But... it feels right." Luke tried to explain. He had this niggling feeling that this small sacrifice would help prove his case. "To the Jedi... Lightsabers are a little like an extra limb- a Jedi's only true ally. I feel like letting you keep it for a while will help rebuild... this. Whatever this is. I'm sorry for hurting you, Din... I really am. I didn't mean it." 

The reflection in Din's helmet revealed nothing but Luke's own face and the expanses of white desert that surrounded them. But somewhere, he felt something in Din shift and click. He kept on his course. 

"I've never directly lied to you about anything- that I promise. I may have... omitted or stretched the truth, but that was because I thought you were going to kill me." Luke admitted. He felt kind of anxious about the fact that he was now completely defenceless and really exposed at this point in the middle of an empty desert, but all he could do was pray the force was guiding him- that the force could help him fix this. "Yes, I'm from Naboo, yes I spent some of my childhood on Tatooine with my Aunt and Uncle, yes I lived in a village on Naboo, yes I'm kind of here because of my mother. But... I'm also a Jedi." 

Din had not expected this outcome. Every scenario he had thought of when about to confront Luke had included him escaping to the Jedi military compound or spitting in Din's face that he was only there as a spy and Din had been set up. 

He hadn't expected the sincerity and vulnerability he was now presented with, and his heart ached at the openness of it- the clear trust in Luke's eyes. Din could tell Luke was absolutely terrified; his hands were trembling, but somehow Luke still stood and spoke with such steely certainty it was incredibly clear that strength like that was only borne of a Jetii. Din wasn't sure how he hadn't seen the connection before. 

"Alright." Din nodded, and before he consciously registered it- he had accepted the apology. He wanted to continue being mad about it. Wanted to go on about the ache in his chest at being lied to, but somehow... Somehow it all made sense to him. Luke hadn't done it to be deceitful- there was just such a big divide between their people that he had been genuinely fearful for his life. 

However- something still niggled at him. 

"You haven't been sending General Kenobi secret messages, have you?" Din asked, sincerely and not unkindly. 

Luke's face scrunched in confusion. "No? The only person I can talk to right now is Leia, my sister, and all I did was ask her to lie on my behalf." 

It was Din's turn to be confused. "Why would she need to lie?" He puzzled. 

"I..." Luke started, before cringing a little. "This is going to sound juvenile, but I didn't want to worry my parents."

"Oh." Din deflated. So Luke wasn't a spy after all. Not an illusion, then. "Wait why can you only talk to your sister?"

Luke winced. "I forgot my comm and she's my twin."

"So then-"

"I used the Force to send a message." 

Din was intrigued. "The force?" 

Luke looked confused. "The... magic... we do...?"

"Oh." Din puzzled.

"You seriously don't know what the force is?" Luke asked awkwardly, looking astonished. He seemed to have assumed the force was common knowledge. 

Din felt sheepish. "Uh... no? You just wave your hands and... stuff happens..?" 

Luke squinted at him, looking as if he was wondering how Din got up in the morning given how ignorant he was being. Din harrumphed. 

"Well you don't know much about Mandalorians either, so." 

Luke laughed. "That is the most childish thing I have ever heard you say, Manda'lor." 

Din glared at him. Luke laughed harder. Din couldn't help chuckling with him.  

The sun was down-dusk had passed, the air was colder, and the air smelled of rain now. The sand was dusky purple in the absence of light. 

"I think we should head back." Din suggested, because he had a feeling Luke wouldn't. The sun had set around them as they had argued. 

"That sounds great." Luke smiled, and it was warm like the beginnings of a sunrise. "But... are we good?"

Din palmed Luke's light sword between his hands thoughtfully. His newfound trust in Luke was tentative at best, but... somehow the sword hilt in his hands felt like the beginnings of something between them- something bigger than them and infinitely more delicate. 

"As long as you promise to tell me as much as you can about the Jetii. It's only fair; I've been teaching you for at least a week." Din asked sincerely. 

Luke looked Din in the eyes- somehow finding his gaze through the helmet- his gaze soulful and deep. 

"Of course." 

"Then... yes, we're good." Din comforted, feeling unsure himself. He had to try to put faith in their resilience to see if they could move on from this. 

The relieved and tentatively hopeful smile that rose like the absent sun on Luke's face was incredibly indescribable- Din couldn't help but echo it, chest lighting up with the same relieved joy.

"C'mon then, tramp, let's go back to my room." Din joked, trying to restore the bantering rapport that they had had before as he walked back towards his abandoned speeder. 

Luke looked playfully affronted, following after him hot on his heels. Din caught a glimpse of a floating takeaway cup and datapad and suppressed his surprise at the how casual it was. "I'm not a tramp!" Luke protested, looking a little rough around the edges from the sand.  

Din pretended to look Luke up and down, before meeting Luke's gaze once more. "Could've fooled me." He snorted. 

Luke gasped, seeming slightly offended but obviously not taking it to heart. "I'll have you know I have a room at the Jedi base, thank you very much." he scoffed, crossing his arms and turning his nose up. 

"And yet you roll around in the sand and room with strange Mandalorians." Din teased, letting himself enjoy this despite the twinge of discomfort at the mention of the Jetii- the reminder of the information Luke had omitted. Luke just huffed in false annoyance at him, the corners of his lips turned up. 

When they got on the speeder, Luke plucked the datapad and takeaway cup out of the air without comment. Din sat in the driving seat of the speeder, and Luke plopped himself on the seat behind him. Luke gently gripped his shoulders in a friendly and considerate way, having put the things he had brought in the saddlebag, and Din revved the engine up. 

The sky had darkened, and Din could hear a loud rumble- not from the engine, but from the sky. 

"Kriff, it's going to rain-" Din swore, moving more quickly and looking for the piece of canvas that worked as a rain shield to throw over them. Luke frantically helped him.  

They were half drenched with rain when Din found it, and he tossed it to Luke while he set the speeder into motion- and their combined relief was as palpable the rain blessing the sand as they whizzed through the rain and petrichor together, back to the Mandalorian compound. 

Chapter Text

Something warm curled up and settled in Obi Wan's chest as he tucked himself into the alcove of his spacious council member's room that he usually used to make private calls. His holocomm pinging with his second attempt at making an outgoing call. Anakin was out, the section of Obi Wan's lounge that was sectioned off as his now empty- he was probably out bothering Ahsoka or the like.

It didn't matter to Obi Wan at this point and time- he was busy making good use of his off time. 

"Obi?" Satine greeted him worriedly as her image popped up on his holocomm. Obi Wan had obviously surprised her with this call, as she was dressed somewhat casually. She was dressed in a simple navy lounge dress with a pair of light blue elaborate earrings that Obi Wan had seen on her before (but they still made her look as radiant and graceful as ever.) Satine's hair was pulled up into a simple yet intricate braid-bun that probably had been inspired by Padmé (they'd been communicating more as of late). Obi Wan couldn't help the warm smile that slid onto his face at seeing her again. 

"Satine." Obi Wan gentled, his smile growing wider as Satine softened at seeing him again as well. There was always something infinitely soft and beautiful between the two of them, regardless of how many domestics they had over politics. 

"You called me?" Satine asked, endeared by the warmth his greeting, her eyes sparkling with delight. Obi Wan could practically imagine her usual sly grin as she approached, pressing a chaste kiss to his cheek as she passed. She was usually setting something up; perhaps candles or tea. 

"I did." Obi Wan replied, being playfully obstinate, and he couldn't restrain the extent of his grin anymore. It broke free and engulfed his face.

"Any particular reason, or?" Satine puzzled. Despite that, she was clearly still enjoying his antics. 

Obi Wan moved closer to the holocomm so as to be a little quieter. "Can I not just call to see how you are?" he asked with mock offence. 

Satine rolled her eyes, not unkindly, a fond half-smile on her face. "Of course you can, Obi, but..." 

Her inference hung in the air. They both knew what she meant. They tried not to make a habit of frivolous calls- not with the fragility of their secret relationship. One wrong accidental call might just oust Obi Wan from the Jedi Order. 

Obi Wan sighed, feeling put-upon. He missed the days they could just call and talk for hours about nothing in particular until they were yawning and their mouths were all muddy from staying up too late and talking too much.

"I wanted to update you about the cabur." Obi Wan mentioned regretfully, rubbing his right arm, remembering the torn sleeve. He'd changed out of his torn up robe ages ago, but Obi Wan still couldn't put the encounter out of his mind.

"Oh?" Satine encouraged him to keep going. She was moving around, and Obi Wan caught a glimpse of a kettle. 

"I fought him on the battlefield earlier, but he seemed... distracted." Obi Wan worried thoughtfully. He couldn't figure out what connection his torn sleeve would have to the cabur, but yet... 

"By what?" Satine pushed. "Tell me the whole story." 

By the time he had recounted his tale, being sure to be clear on the fact he was absolutely sure that the cabur had gotten distracted by something about or near his right bicep, Satine was sitting with her almost finished tea thoughtfully. 

"Perhaps it was your tattoo?" Satine suggested, fiddling with the handle of her teacup. 

"My tattoo?" Obi Wan was surprised. He hadn't considered that. Obi Wan wasn't even sure his tattoo had been visible earlier. 

"You know the one, I'm pretty familiar with it myself." Satine smirked slyly, and Obi Wan blushed deep scarlet at the reminder of the more intimate moments they had shared. 

"Yes I know the one, my dear." Obi Wan coughed, trying to recover. "I was there when I got it done." 

"It would be worrying if you hadn't been, Obi Wan." Satine remarked, raising her eyebrows at him and staring down at her cup for a moment before looking back at the comm. Obi Wan laughed and nodded with a smile. 

"Why would he be interested in that, though?" he puzzled, his hand flying to his chin to habitually stroke the hair there in thought. 

"I'm not sure either. He's not particularly familiar with Jedi culture... to my knowledge." Satine shrugged. 

"Hmm..." Obi Wan sighed, feeling stuck. He had the distinct feeling he didn't have all the pieces of this puzzle. 

They were lulled into a momentary silence as they both mulled on their thoughts. 

"In other news, Bo-Katan tells me that the cabur has a new foundling." Satine announced, looking to Obi Wan through the comm for his reaction.

"Is that so? What are they like?" 

"I didn't get much of a description, just something about them being around the cabur's age and that he might be his new whore. I think she's just being insensitive, I'm sure the new foundling is an alright person- she's just ridiculously territorial." Satine sighed, rubbing her temples. She'd always had that reaction to her sister, and today was not an exception. 

"Bo-Katan does tend to be over the top, I'm afraid, dear." Obi Wan fed back supportively. "How's Korkie?" 

Satine smiled, practically glowing at the mention of her son. "Alright for now. He misses you."

Obi Wan sighed, and it was his turn to rub at his forehead. "I know. I'll try to visit soon, I promise." 

"I know, Obi, I know." Satine commented supportively, care and love in her eyes that Obi Wan melted at. Everything they couldn't say openly over the nets passed between them- the secrets and the shared knowledge they had about Korkie and Satine's forced exile. 

When Satine said she knew like that, Obi Wan was once again faced with the repressive nature of their current state of affairs. He had promised to himself that when Luke and Leia had grown up, and finished their padawanship- when Anakin had retired from the order, he'd follow suit as well. 

There were definitely days he wondered whether he truly deserved Satine- she was a fully capable and independent woman who clearly didn't need him, and yet, she still made time for him and was endlessly patient with him.

"Anakin, Padmé, Ahsoka, Luke and Leia all send their love and regards, though, as always." Obi Wan went for, a wry and self-concious smile on his face. Obi Wan was repentant and regretful that Luke and Leia had never met Korkie- they would've really loved him. 

Korkie Kryze-Kenobi (although only a Kenobi at heart, and not in the eyes of the law for Jedi reasons) was a little older than Luke and Leia by about 5 years. He was currently 23, and had been released from the exile that his mother had been forced into when he reached eighteen. Korkie was so far making his way through a university degree in Mandalorian Law at the university in the main city, with intentions and hopes to try and lift the exile ruling on his mother. Obi Wan had spent a lot of Korkie's childhood trying to tutor him in the ways of the Force while trying to parent at the same time, finding it exhausting between that and the Clone Wars. (He didn't know how Anakin had done it, but then again, Padmé had always been a little closer to the Clone Wars than Satine was). (Anakin also had the benefit of not having to balance the Jedi and Mandalorian cultures, meaning he could admit Luke and Leia to the order with little to no issue from Padmé.) 

It had been a little easier when the war had moved to Mandalore- at least he didn't have to juggle transport shuttle schedules, and was a stone's throw away from the village Satine had found a cottage to live in at. 

Not that he was glad for the war on Mandalore- he definitely wasn't. War of any kind was not something to be celebrated... But it did have it's benefits. 

"Of course they do. Send my own love and regards their way, would you?" Satine smiled hopefully, and Obi Wan thought her crinkly eyed smile was the most beautiful thing he'd seen in weeks. 

He might be a little biased, though.

"They have noodles!!" Luke exclaimed in delight when they go to the cafeteria. Din had dragged Luke back to his room and practically shoved him into the refresher, declaring he had exactly fifteen minutes to shower before they went to get some dinner at the mess hall.

Luke had, naturally (most ex-Tatooine residents had this habit), protested and went on about how he was pretty clean and he could probably shower later. Din wasn't hearing of it, and took his armour off briefly to dust the sand off of the clothes underneath while Luke showered. He'd have to bother the cleaning droid responsible for keeping the dorms clean later to help get the sand off of the floor. 

Regardless, they had lined up for food from the mess hall, and Luke was practically drooling over the noodles. Din was confused why Luke was so excited, but then again, the curry noodles they were given from the canteen were the best thing they tended to get given. 

 "What kind of noodles are these?" Luke asked, beaming, as he picked his tray up and waited for Din to pick up his takeaway version of the noodles from the counter they were at. 

Din steered them towards their usual table near the door of the mess hall.

"Curry noodles." Din answered, eyeing Luke with wary interest. "You've never had them?" 

"No, but they look great." Luke pepped. He was over the moon, and Din couldn't bring himself to poke holes in his delight despite feeling distinctly like not all was alright with the world yet. Perhaps Luke was also relieved- he showed it in his over excitableness. 

They sat in awkward silence as Luke dug in, unsure what to talk about but not wanting to leave Luke alone among all these Mandalorians. Din still had Luke's lightsaber, which he'd put in his satchel for safe and discreet keeping- the same way he would carry the darksaber around when he wanted to practice with it. Luke's light sword, however, was a little heavier than the darksaber- but perhaps that came with the weight of the Jetii role. Din didn't know. But if he thought about like that, it was surprising that the darksaber was lighter than Luke's light sword considering the role of Manda'lor was weightier than that of a Jetii. 

Din had the instinct that came with being a warrior himself that if he left to go eat in his room with the sword on his person, Luke might panic. He knew this because if someone walked off with his weapons and left him defenceless, he would probably panic too. So Din just sat in semi-comfortable silence while Luke ate. He didn't want to disrespect the immense trust Luke had placed in him by giving him his light sword. He imagined it must've taken iron strength of will to willingly give up his weapon to an enemy- even if Din had made clear he didn't want to kill Jetii.

Chapter Text

The morning brought uncertainty upon them both. While Luke and Din weren't amazingly lucid in the morning regardless of whether they were arguing or not, Luke wasn't sure where they stood. 

Din had gotten up before Luke, earlier, and he had made lots of effort to be quiet in order to slip away. He needed to check up on his other foundling. Din knew Erin would be up at first light, just going to bed herself, so he got up then. 

When Din knocked on the door, Erin had answered, letting him in with her usual commentary, gossip and sass. 

"I heard that you had an argument with Luke." Erin waggled her eyebrows, letting him pass. "Is that why you were storming around yesterday? What could pretty boy have done to piss you off that badly?" 

Din huffed, frustrated. He didn't want to have this conversation yet- but he knew he had to. Better to clear up the gossip with falsity than have the gossip mill churn out something closer to the truth. 

"Do we really have to do this now? It's so kriffing early." Din grumbled and groaned, despite knowing he had to deal with it sometime. Perhaps he could get Erin to change the subject. 

"It was your choice to get up this early." Erin argued back. Din huffed again in response, irritated, but fondly irritated. 

Din chose his words carefully. "He put himself in danger. Did something stupid." 

"Ohhhh, so that's why you had a dessert standoff?" Erin questioned, a mischievous twinkle in her eye. 

"Yes. I was worried." Din confirmed, getting the strange feeling this would come back to bite him later. He wasn't sure how, though. It was an innocent enough reason for their argument. 

Erin nodded, her eyes bright. She pointed towards the curtained off section in the back of her room. "Your ad missed you. I told him you were dealing with something important." 

Din couldn't help but smile. He was incredibly grateful that Erin was helping him take care of his foundling. He felt a little ashamed for not visiting yesterday, but... he was, as Erin said, dealing with something important. 

There was a babbling and a squeal behind the curtain, and Din opened the curtain to greet his ad'ika, his heart feeling lighter already. 

"Hello." Din started, feeling a little awkward at where to begin. The child's expressive eyes met his and made a delighted noise. Din watched as he raced forward on his little green legs, crawling into Din's lap as he sat down and stared at him- giving Din uppy arms, eyes pleading. Din could conjecture what he meant and gladly moved to give him what he wanted. 

Din picked him up, holding his ad'ika to his chest, enjoying the familiarity of warmth of it. He couldn't help but smile and feel calmer, his chest swelling with the warmth and peace of a stray dessert breeze.

"There's a happy picture." Erin cooed from behind him, a grin in her voice. Din couldn't help but feel a little fond at it, despite the slight mocking tone.

Luke was in that very enjoyable sleepy state of barely awake, barely asleep, when he heard a knock on the door. He grumbled, turning over and ignoring it. Din could very well get it. It was probably for him anyway. Luke thought to himself. But after a moment of getting comfortable again, feeling his limbs numb with the wave of sleep trying to tug him back under, the person knocked on the door again. 

He ignored it, feeling irritation rise within him at the thought of getting up and crossing the distance between where he slept and the door. 

The person knocked again, and finally, Luke sat up and stretched. A yawn and a groan terrorised him as he stretched his limbs in the way people did when they had to force feeling back into them. 

"Come in." Luke sung out in what he hoped was a lower, gruff-ier voice. Din could use his voice to open the door, so perhaps if Luke imitated it, it would open for him too. 

The door thankfully opened, saving him from getting up from the comfortable nest of his blanket, and Luke felt slightly victorious at it. He yawned again. 

At the door was a short and stout Mandalorian in well worn red armour with a silver spear strapped onto their back. It looked well used, but also well taken care of. 

"Is Din here?" their voice was slightly masculine, but Luke couldn't really make any guesses at their gender based on it. He didn't try to. 

Luke looked around, not knowing whether Din was here himself. When he found the room empty, Luke was a little surprised. (However it explained why Din hadn't answered the damn door.)

"No, sorry." Luke shrugged, yawning again and pulling the blanket around himself, anticipating the door-knocker leaving. 

They nodded, about to leave, but then paused. Luke shot them a questioning look, burying himself in his self-made blanket burrito and getting comfortable. He wanted to go back to sleep.

"Actually, could you tell him something? The Alor asked me to send him a message and I don't really want to swing around later." They asked, leaning against the frame of the door casually. Every now and again a person walked down the hallway outside, peering into the room curiously. 

"Sure." Luke shrugged, studying their armour because he wasn't sure what else to do. He got the vague feeling that he'd seen their armour before. 

"The Alor wants him to give her his field report from yesterday, and says to come to the armoury to talk to her about it."

Luke nodded, affirming he had heard the message. "I'll tell him when he gets back." 

The intruder nodded, but shifted instead of leaving; lingering. They wanted to say something else, but wasn't sure if they should. 

After a few moments of decision, they decided to speak. 

"Also... would you like to go out with me some time?" they asked, seeming a little shy but also pretty bold and decisive at the same time. Luke hadn't seen the invitation coming. 

"Uh..." Luke blinked, surprised. Did all of Djarin's followers secretly have a crush on him or something? "Well..." 

He wasn't sure he could use the 'I only like men' thing here, so he told the truth. 

"I'm not really looking for anything right now. Sorry." Luke said dryly, cringing at how cliché his wording sounded. He looked them up and down for a reaction, and their posture straightened up at the rejection, a shift that reminded Luke of someone bracing for battle. 

It was then that the penny dropped. Perhaps it was the fact they were standing up straight, but he recognised them now. This was the Mandalorian who had defended him from Bo-Katan. What was their name... Kriff, I swear I knew it...

"That's fine. I just thought there was no harm in trying, though." They shrugged. They didn't seem to take the rejection to heart. 

Luke smiled amicably. "I'm flattered, though!"

Silence fell between the two of them, and Luke wasn't sure if they would leave, but all of a sudden Luke had to know. 

"Hey, are you... are you the Mandalorian that tried to fight Bo-Katan at the feast last week?" Luke asked, and they laughed. 

"Hell yeah I am. I'm Espí." They waved in greeting, leaning into the room. 

"I'm Luke!" He waved back. "Thank you for trying to help, I'm grateful for the whole defending my honour thing."  

"I'm willing to fight Bo-Katan over less, but you're very welcome." Espí replied with a sense of camaraderie. "She did call you a whore. That was pretty bad." 

"Yeah..." Luke agreed. "Just a question, should I be expecting more... people to ask me out on dates? I was pretty surprised by the first one, and then you asked just now... I'm just curious if there's more people who are interested, or...?" 

Espí started laughing. "Yeah. You've kind of got a group of admirers now. Especially after you beat Djarin." 

"Oh." Luke muttered, going red in the face and blushing. "I... wow, thank you..? I honestly didn't really expect this?" 

"Why not? You're an attractive man." Espí asked, confused. Luke blushed again, embarrassed by the attention.

"Well... I'm not really attractive by Mandalorian standards? I would've thought Din was more attractive considering how great of a warrior he seems to be." Luke attempted to explain, albeit a bit meekly. 

Luke could swear Espí was narrowing their eyes at him. "Yeah- Din is pretty attractive, wouldn't you say?" 

He nodded, agreeing with them, unsure what they meant by it. Luke burrowed into his blankets a little more. 

"You know, I would say he's interested in you." Espí announced without ceremony. Luke was shocked into looking up at them. 

"Huh?" 

"Yeah. All of a sudden he's got himself a foundling and starts spending all his time with you." Espí explained, being a little suggestive. 

"Is that not... normal? I thought that was normal." Luke raised an eyebrow. 

"Most of the time, people only take 3 days off to counsel foundlings. Djarin took a whole week." Espí said, their deadpan tone speaking for itself. 

"Maybe he didn't know that?" Luke suggested. Espí's judgemental silence after he said that spoke volumes. They both knew Djarin was acutely aware of Mandalorian cultural norms. 

"Also he was red in the face after your first sparring." Espí added after the pause, and it was like dropping a bomb onto Luke.  

"How would you know?" Luke narrowed his eyes at her, shock barrelling through his chest. He was suspicious, though. How could Espí know what Din looked like when Din was wearing a helmet at the time?

They laughed at his suspicion. "A little trick- from someone who wears a helmet all the time and hangs out with others who wear helmets all the time? Focus on the crack of where the helmet meets the shirt underneath. At certain angles, you can catch skin." 

Luke's eyebrows raised of their own accord- he was intrigued by the suggestion. But perhaps he should trust their experience with this.

"I'm sure it was the exercise or something." Luke chuckled. "But thank you for the tip." 

Espí gave him a doubtful look that Luke read from the shift in atmosphere. 

"No problem." Espí replied, seeming proud of theirself. They turned to leave, but then leaned back into the door frame to say something else. 

"Also, just a warning; people will most likely try to be your friend to get closer to Djarin, so be careful who you trust." Espí added, and Luke felt questions bubble up in his chest at the ominous warning. What was that supposed to mean? 

Luke, unsure what to say, nodded. A polite and grateful smile on his face. Espí nodded and finally left, but Luke couldn't go back to sleep now. He was puzzled by the new information he had been presented with. 

Din hesitated at the door, about to knock but then pausing to take a breath. His heart felt less heavy this morning, having been helped by spending time with his ad'ika, and a small seed of hope was germinating in his chest.

It had been awhile since he'd felt some hope at the peaceful outcome of the Jetii war, but somehow, he had a feeling it would work out for the better now that he and Luke were getting onto the same page. 

Din knocked on the door, unsure if he should just open it or if Luke was changing or something. 

The door opened of it's own accord, and Din caught sight of Luke sitting on Din's bed with a datapad in hand- an empty cup of tea on Din's metal desk. 

"So you've figured how to open the door using voice commands, then?" Din teased, and Luke looked a little surprised by Din's good mood. 

"I have." Luke smiled a small smile, looking up from his datapad to meet Din's gaze. 

"How'd you manage that?" Din asked, moving to the shelf where his stash of caf and tea was hidden and measuring some caf out into a filter.  

"I just tried to sound like you." Luke grinned, clearly making fun of him. "Come in." Luke' voice had gone deep and low, and Din was surprised by the slight weakness of his knees at it.

"Ha-ha." Din replied dryly, and he would find it funny if he hadn't had to steady himself from it onto where his fingers met the desk he was leaning on. 

The conversation lapsed slightly for a moment. 

"Where were you?" Luke asked candidly and earnestly, the atmosphere of the conversation shifting. 

Din wasn't sure what to say, so he said it like it was. 

"I was at Erin's." Din shrugged, glancing at Luke- whose gaze was piercing. "And before you ask; no I didn't tell her." 

Luke nodded slowly, his gaze trusting. Din wasn't sure how Luke had found that trust in him, but whatever it was, he hoped it wouldn't waver. If anything about the future he was trying to build to was to work, he had to have a good relationship with Luke. Everything was pointing to the necessity of rebuilding their relationship; not just politically, but... maybe... it could help to ease the ache that had started in his chest since yesterday. Din couldn't deny that Luke had become important to him in the past week. Erin had already teased him earlier about getting attached to people too easily, and Din was inclined to agree. (But he didn't necessarily deem it such a bad thing.)

"Then?" Luke asked, politely interested. 

"She's been... taking care of some things for me." Din put put simply, not ready to tell Luke about his other foundling yet. "I went to check on them." 

Luke nodded, peacefully returning his focus back to his reading. Din made some caf, the sounds of the boiling water and steam the only thing breaking the comfortable silence between them. 

By the time Din had prepared the caf and boiling water mixture with the filter, Luke had looked up at Din to catch his attention. 

When Din noticed, he tilted his head at Luke to indicate he was interested to hear what he wanted to say.

"A person called Espí came around earlier and said they were there to come get you to visit the Alor? Something about a field report?" Luke repeated the message, clearly puzzled by it.

"Oh." Din said, surprised into remembering he needed to do that. "Farrick." 

"Who's the Alor?" Luke asked, intrigued. A twinkle in his eye told Din that Luke already knew, and just wanted to confirm. 

"She's the Armourer. The woman who I had to talk to about you when you first got here." Din prompted. Luke nodded. 

"Alor means 'Chief', right?" Luke asked absentmindedly, paging through the text he was reading on his datapad noncommittally. 

"It does." Din eyed Luke with interest, moving to sit next to him. "You speak Mando'a, then?" 

Luke chuckled. "Not really. I know some theoretical stuff, and even then I'm kind of amateur at it." he shrugged. "My father... made me learn. He said it might save my life one day." 

"Oh." Din was surprised out of being hurt by Luke not telling him he could speak Mando'a, and was glad for his sincerity with Luke. He imagined this would have gone a lot different had Din said one thing in Basic and another thing in Mando'a and talked behind Luke's back. 

However he hadn't realised that learning Mando'a was now a Jetii survival tool. It spoke volumes about how big the Jetii-Mandalorian divide was if even knowing Mando'a was the difference between life and death. 

"It's funny because it kind of did end up keeping me out of danger." Luke sighed, a wry smile on his face. 

Din was silent for a spell, digesting the severity of their situation. 

"I'm sorry." Din apologised. He felt a need to apologise for his people's bigotry, regardless of whether he perpetuated it or not. 

Luke was surprised into a laugh. "What are you sorry for? There's nothing to be sorry about." 

"I'm sorry that Mandalorian bigotry has gotten so bad that even knowing Mando'a could mean the difference between life or death. I... I promise I'm trying to change that, but... it takes time. I'm not even on the throne yet, and for all I know I could die trying to take the throne, but..." Din sighed, glancing away from Luke, feeling burdened by the weight of his future role.

"What do you mean by that?" Luke asked cautiously, seeming wary but curious. 

"By what?" 

"That you could die trying to take the throne." Luke clarified. "I thought you were guaranteed the... royal sword..?" 

Din laughed at Luke's attempt to say 'darksaber'. Of all the ways he'd heard the darksaber named, he'd never heard 'royal sword' before.

"What's so funny?" Luke was confused, and slightly hurt. 

"Sorry... it's just.. I've never heard the darksaber called that before." Din chuckled. 

"Oh." Luke said, his voice small. Din hadn't meant to laugh at Luke's lack of knowledge about the darksaber. 

"I'm not guaranteed the throne. On the day of my coronation, I have to duel any and all challengers to the throne- anyone who thinks they can rule better than I can. If I win all of them; then I stay as Manda'lor." Din explained, mood souring at the mention of his upcoming duels. Din knew it would be a brutal fight- Mandalorian warriors were a power-hungry bunch, and would stop at nothing to gain power. Someone on the top of that list was Bo-Katan Kryze. 

"Oh." Luke sagged a little, the wind having been taken from his sails. They sat in silence as they mulled over their thoughts. 

"Well." Luke started, and Din glanced up at him. "You have me. If we work together then I'm sure things could change." 

Luke's voice and small smile was full of tentative hope, in his eyes a question was clear: are you with me? 

Din couldn't help but enjoy that smile growing into a sunrise grin as Din nodded in agreement.

Chapter Text

"C'mon." Din urged, getting up, a quirk to his mouth he knew Luke couldn't see but perhaps hear instead. "I'll go quickly give my report, and then perhaps we could spar?" 

Luke's smile became more mischievous. "Is that an invitation for me to rough you up using the Force, then? Because it definitely sounds like it." 

Din felt himself laugh. "You wouldn't get far enough, Jetii." 

Luke raised an eyebrow at him at that in challenge. "We'll see about that. I had a feeling you'd want to try fight me without me being handicapped. Eager to loose, much?"

"Not really. You know I've fought mouthy Jetii like you before, right?" Din fired back nonchalantly. 

Luke eyed him up with interest. Din's mouth dried at the appraising glint to his eyes. "Mouthy, am I? You're not the only one." 

Din gave Luke a doubtful look, turning to leave. "Meet me at the speeder park in an hour, and we'll see if you can put your credits where your mouth is, Luke." 

As Din gathered up his bag, he could practically feel Luke's smirk. "With pleasure." 

Din's report had gone well, the Alor had only been slightly disgruntled at it being late, but he just explained he had got into a bit of a busy spot helping them clean up. This was good, as Din had been worried she was just about ready to bite his head off for being late giving his report. 

She had asked about Luke and his progress, and Din had told her about how he'd been filling him in on some cultural things. He didn't mention their argument, and, although Din knew she had probably heard of it, the Alor said nothing about it either. Din didn't tell her he didn't intend to teach Luke the Resol'nare- she'd probably side with Paz and insist upon him doing so. 

Din got to the speeder park thirty minutes late, and he was met with a smirking Luke Skywalker (which was still weird to think about- this bright and interesting man was Anakin Skywalker's kriffing son.)

"I was beginning to think I'd scared you off." Luke remarked to the air by way of greeting, cocky as anything. Din had noticed that since he'd found out Luke was a Jetii, he'd been a lot more confident and sure of himself. It was a different and interesting side to Luke Din had only seen hints of during their sparring, and it was endlessly entertaining, endearing, and... if Din was honest with himself, he found it attractive too. 

"You could never, mesh'la." Din sighed to himself, keeping his voice down. He was happy to abuse Luke's assumption that mesh'la was an insult if it meant he could find amusement at watching Luke get affronted about being called beautiful.

Luke crossed his arms, sticking a tongue out childishly. "No need to be rude." 

Din rolled his eyes, walking up to the speeder Luke had apparently acquired from the Quartermaster. He wasn't sure how Luke had done it, considering the Quartermaster was quite particular about what time and to whom she handed out weapons and transport to, but Din was a little afraid to ask. Perhaps he'd used his magic Jetii charm, or something. It wouldn't be impossible if that was a thing. Was Luke doing that to him? 

Din didn't feel like he was being controlled against his will, so he waved the ridiculous notion away. 

"You know, I should've seen it before." Din commented, rifling through the side bags on the speeder. They needed to bring some water- there wasn't any in the bag. "You definitely can act like your father at times." 

Luke looked slightly surprised. "Really?" Perhaps Luke was surprised Din had met the infamous Anakin Skywalker. 

"Yeah, I met him on the battlefield a couple times. He's quite skilled with that blue light sword of his. Who taught him to fight like that?" Din shrugged, grateful that the speeder bay was pretty much empty at this time of day. People were either having lunch or on the battlefield, or sleeping in preparation for their night shift. 

Luke paused, thinking. "Obi Wan... my ... my... Grandfather." 

Din thought about it. "That's surprising. Their styles don't seem similar." 

"That's because Obi Wan prefers the Soresu fighting style. Anakin... He prefers to be more on the offensive." Luke tried to explain, but the vocabulary he could use about saber fighting styles was all based in Jetii vocabulary. Din didn't really understand what he was trying to say. 

"Soresu?" Din questioned, turning back to him as he went towards the water tap with an empty water bladder. 

Luke rubbed the back of his neck, trying to find the words to explain, but couldn't. "It's hard to explain." 

Din filled the water bladder, watching it inflate and droop, getting heavier. 

"Why'd you say I'm like my father, though?" Luke asked, seeming surprised.

Din found himself grinning. "You have the same attitude. I don't think I've met an opponent as sassy as General Skywalker or his togruta Jetii friend."

Luke laughed, beaming fondly. "Yeah, they're like that." he mused wistfully. 

"They must be hard to handle, then?" Din joked, closing the water bladder and the tap, walking back to the speeder and checking their gear.

"All you have to do is ask Padmé- she's endlessly tormented by all of us." Luke's eyes told Din all he needed to about how much Luke cared for his family. "Between Obi Wan's dry humour and endless flirting, Ahsoka and Anakin's childish teasing tactics, and me and my sister, it's a wonder she's still with us." 

Din found himself smiling to himself, warmth filling him up. It was sweet how big of a family Luke seemed to have, despite the Jedi not allowing family? He wasn't clear on the rules of the Jedi, just that Luke had mentioned that he had to keep his father a secret because it was against the rules. 

Regardless, Din felt honoured to share in Luke's clear delight. Luke gave him a long, bright, and measured look he seemed to reserve for the moments that Din could feel his chest dissolve into warm sugar syrup. 

The post-lunch change of shift alarm broke Din out of his reverie. He hopped onto the speeder, patting the seat behind him to indicate Luke should also get onto the speeder.  

"Did you get the chance to have something to eat? I think it slipped my mind to remind you about it..." Din asked, watching as Luke shrugged on a tan coloured poncho that had originally been hanging from the end of the speeder. 

"I did." Luke smiled, his head poking out of the head hole of the poncho. "Did you?" 

"Yeah." Din revved up the speeder. He felt Luke hop on the seat behind him- the added weight onto the speeder made it loose height for a moment. 

Din could hear Luke saying something behind him, but at that point he just wanted to get out of the speeder bay before everyone else started streaming in. The speeder shot off into the dessert, cutting Luke off. 

There was nothing more relaxing than riding a speeder through the dessert, and if he was honest, he was enjoying this a little too much. 

To Luke, speeding through the dessert never got old. Despite the lack of scenery, the sand whirled around them in pleasant eddies and swirls while they rode at high speeds. It was entertaining to use the force to make them into intricate shapes. 

Usually, Luke loved to drive- racing on speeders was just in his blood. Luke couldn't help but enjoy the thrill of it. He used to push speeders to their limits on Tatooine and drag Leia at weird hours of the day to go and spy on the pod races. Padmé used to try to get Anakin to discourage this behaviour, but if anything, he encouraged it.

Luke had found Anakin was at his most fatherly back when he would send Luke some change to go to the pod-races, Padmé berating him for it in the background. Padmé had long-since given up at trying to stop Anakin from encouraging Luke's interest in pod-racing, and instead just encouraged him to be safe while watching from the stands. 

Perhaps Padmé's warnings had put him off, but Luke had never competed himself. He definitely had had fantasies about it; riding speeders like this one through the endless dessert. He had always been too busy farming to get the time to try and build his own pod racer. 

Still, the story of his father using Pod-racing to get off Tatooine and join the Jedi was a story that had thrived in his fantasies back when he was a child.

The high speeds weren't quite what he was enjoying at this point and time... be it more the opportunity to give Din a hug. (He definitely needed it. Luke had wanted to hug him earlier, when they were talking about the Mandalorian throne, but he wasn't sure if he was allowed that yet.) 

The day was warm and enjoyable. Luke found himself feeling right at home in the dessert; with his poncho on, and hot dessert air blowing through his hair, he felt at one with the Force in the air. 

"Where are we going?" Luke yelled, trying to be heard above the wind.

"It's a little hard to explain," Din yelled back. "It's kind of the middle of nowhere!"

"Alright." Luke grumbled. Keep your secrets. 

When Luke finally got off the speeder, Din plopped a hat onto his head as he passed. 

"Din, I grew up on a dessert planet." Luke complained, taking the itchy hat off immediately. It was scratchy and uncomfortable. "I don't need a kriffing hat-" 

"You say that but don't complain to me later when you've got sunburn." Din nagged back, using his foot to draw a line in the sand, clearly laying out the boundaries of the sparring area. Luke watched attentively, paying attention to the way Din seemed so at ease about it- loose and patient. 

His mouth dried of it's own accord, and he turned to find the water bladder he'd watched Din fill up earlier, taking a small sip. 

Luke spied the hand wrappings in the saddlebags and took them out, if only for something to do while Din was setting the area up. He slipped his poncho over his head, stretching. He was already sweating, the sun beating down onto his face, and the expanses of dessert around them made it feel like it was just the two of them that existed on the entirety of this planet. 

The speeder, which hovered -parked- by itself above the sand, shifted with the gust of wind that had blessed them. Luke felt cooler for a moment as he stretched, trying to warm his muscles up for what might turn out to be an interesting fight. He walked over to the centre of the circle Din had made in the sand, wrapping his hands in the protective cloth. 

He turned and caught Din staring at him, when he looked over- he had only wanted to ask if Din really expected him to wear that hat, but there was something about the maroon and pastel blue curious aura around him that had stopped Luke in his tracks. 

"What does the tattoo mean?" Din asked, seeming surprised by his own question, clearing his throat. 

Luke let his arms fall to his sides from where he had started to stretch his shoulder.  

"This one?" Luke asked, pointing to the one on his right bicep. He had a few tattoos, he wasn't sure which one Din was referring to. 

"Yeah." Din affirmed, sincerely and a little bit earnestly. Luke found it endearing that he wanted to know the meaning, but perhaps Din's curiosity was more to do with the tattoo being similar to Uncle Obi Wan's than personal interest. 

Luke thought for a moment, before approaching Din- lifting his arm up so Din could see his bicep more clearly. 

"It's an ancient ranking tattoo. The Jedi used to have a tradition of tattooing their ranks onto their arms. This was before the Jedi were allied with the Republic, and had less resources. It was easier for them to develop a system of identifying people by rank by using a tattoo or arm band code at the time, but it was still a choice. Those that didn't want to ink up just wore sashes or arm bands around their arms instead." Luke explained, gesturing to the lines that ringed his bicep. 

"If it's ancient then why did you get it?" Din asked politely, his aura intensely pastel blue with curiousity now. 

Luke laughed. "Obi Wan got it done after my father admitted he had married my mother to him, and then my father followed suit. It's from the time before... when attachment wasn't forbidden... I suppose it was their way of connecting to the Jedi of before- of returning to that knowledge that you can connect to the light side of the Force with attachments, and still not fall to the dark side... as long as they were unselfish, of course." 

Din digested this information in silence. Din seemed distracted as he reached out, index finger out, towards Luke's bicep. Luke could feel himself hold his breath, anticipating the touch- surprised into a shiver when Din actually pressed a finger to one of the lines of the tattoo thoughtfully. Before Din pulled his hand away- as if realising how intimate that was. 

"Then, if they're a ranking system- General Kenobi has five lines and you have two... that makes him above you, right?" Din asked softly, as if recognising the shortened distance between the two of them and adjusting his voice for it. "What ranks do the lines mean?" 

"Obi Wan is above me in rank, yes." Luke nodded, before pointing to the first line on his arm. "The first line is symbolic of... what we call The Gathering. The Gathering is when younglings are tasked with building their first lightsaber- they find the Kyber crystal that calls to them in the temple on Illum, and then we learn how to build lightsabers. It's a very sacred moment for all of the younglings." 

Din was surprised. "You built that when you were a youngling???" 

"Yeah." Luke chuckled abashedly, feeling a little shy at the surprised praise. 

"So what rank are you then?" Din asked, gaze flitting between his bicep and meeting Luke's eyes. He could tell by the shift in helmet. Luke's mouth dried up again, but this time he was too far from the water bladder to take a sip. 

"I'm a Padawan!" Luke brightened with a beam, his brown padawan braid swishing behind him as he stood up straighter. He pointed to where it sat close to the base of his neck. "Technically you only need the braid to signify you're a Padawan, but I wanted to follow Obi Wan and my father. The second line means you passed the trials and a Jedi Master picked you as their apprentice." 

Din took this in with interest. "So, you're not even a Jedi yet?" 

Luke was affronted, rearing back slightly. "I definitely am."

Din cocked his head at Luke doubtfully. 

"Just... not a knight yet." Luke pouted. Din rolled his eyes, his aura brightening with pastel yellow amusement. 

"What do the other lines mean?" Din asked, leaning closer. Luke sensed an opportunity. 

"Well the third line is for finishing the Jedi trials- the trials I will have to go through in order to be knighted, just as any other Padawan will. Those are a little hard to explain, because it's entirely up to your master's discretion whether or not you have passed them. The fourth is when you get the rank of Master, and the fifth is when you achieve a seat on the Council." Luke shrugged. 

"So Obi Wan has the highest rank?" Din asked, interested. His aura was tinged light yellow-green in mischief, and Luke sensed the shift in atmosphere. "He didn't seem like it." 

Luke was playfully affronted, well aware Din didn't mean it, but inched closer to Din challengingly. Din's hand was still near his arm- he hadn't fully withdrew it yet, and Luke took advantage of that- suddenly reaching out and gripping Din's arm, pulling him into a judo throw that ended with Din on the ground on his back. Luke grinned, standing atop him. 

"We'll have to see how you do against his student, then. If you're so cocky, Manda'lor, prove it." Luke goaded, stepping back and allowing Din to get back up, hands balled and prepared in a defensive stance. 

Aggravation the colour of dark brown washed over Din's aura, as he righted himself, slipping into a similar defensive stance. They circled each other for a moment, weighing up the effectiveness of different approach strategies. 

Luke waited for Din to come to him, the Force an extra sense as he felt the Force ripple in alarm to his right. He waited patiently as Din stepped up to him decisively to Luke's right flank moments later- only to have Luke easily step aside, missing a blow that would've got him in the stomach.

Din stepped back quickly, clearly used to the speed of their usual exchange of blows. Luke had to be careful- he hadn't given Din the chance to take his armour off, so the added Beskar would make the spar harder for him. He aimed for the belt area, stepping back in to kick Din there, before having to step back again- he'd been tripped up. 

The many times they had sparred obviously had made this harder; Din was anticipating Luke's moves a lot more easily than he had been before. Din had started to learn that spontaneity was better when trying to beat Luke; and it showed here as Din went for Luke's legs, tackling Luke into the sand. They wrestled for a moment, Din winning for the time being. 

"Ten, nine, eigh-" Din started counting cheekily when it was clear he'd taken Luke down, sitting on Luke's chest. He seemed proud of himself up until the moment Luke pushed up and rolled them over- with Luke now on top, their positions switched. 

"You were saying?" Luke grinned, sandy all over and his shirt soaked already. The dessert sun was a menace. 

Din growled, trying to roll them over like Luke had, but found it hard with all the sand and the weight of Luke and his armour. 

"Eight, seven, six, five," Luke announced airily, stressing Din out. How did Luke even manage to roll them over? Din thought to himself in frustration as he struggled. 

At the count of four, Din gave up, looking up at Luke with fond disdain- knowing he wasn't going to win this one, eyeing the pretty circular pendant that he was pretty sure he hadn't seen before as it hung in Din's face. From where Din was positioned, the sun made a halo around Luke's sandy brown hair as Luke gazed down on him with a cocky and excited grin- and if he was honest he forgot to breathe for a moment, thrown off guard and captivated by the picture Luke made. 

Luke's expression softened, whatever he was saying stopped as he realised Din wasn't paying attention. A moment passed between them, one that lit Din's chest up with a crackle of electric anticipation, heart speeding up as Luke's eyes flicked up and down, and- 

Luke smirked, sliding off Din's chest- getting up. "What were you saying about my grandfather, Oh Esteemed Manda'lor?" 

Din huffed in fond irritation, not getting up, lying there feeling dazed. He hadn't realised that his feelings for the Jetii had deepened like this. 

"I didn't say anything." 

"You did and you know it." Luke prodded. 

Din sat up with a sigh, pretending like admitting this was difficult. "Obi Wan is deserving of his high rank. There." 

"And?" Luke added cheekily, despite seeming satisfied with Din's answer. 

Din thought about it for a moment, happy to play into Luke's games. 

"And he obviously taught you very well. I was distracted by your hair the entire time- you both abuse your charm like nothing else." Din teased vaguely while getting up, dusting the sand from his armour off. He hadn't really meant it when he said he had thought Luke cheated. He was just trying to get a rise out of him, but he had been a little honest about how he'd been distracted by the Jetii. Even if he didn't quite want to admit that to himself. 

The deep scarlet blush was not what Din had expected in reaction, and if Din had found out that flattery was the way to get the young Skywalker to shut up and look fetching he would've tried it ages ago. 

Luke coughed, becoming a little shy. "Well... like Master, like Padawan." 

Din couldn't help the smirk that found it's way onto his face. 

Din waited for Luke to have some water before considering his other motive for coming out into the dessert today. 

He thought about it as Luke chided him into drinking some water if he promised to look the other way, and he thought about it as Luke started stretching again, anticipating a second spar. 

Finally, he gave up. He originally had qualms about it purely because he knew his ego would suffer losses, but his ego had already suffered today- so what's one more? 

Din reached for his bag, rifling through it to bring out the two sabers. 

"So..." Din asked, feeling a little awkward himself. "Would you do me the honour of helping me figure out this damned Darksaber?" 

Luke chuckled, eyes gleaming and grinning like the lothcat who had got the cheese. 

"Din kriffing Djarin, it would be my honour." 

Chapter Text

Din casually tossed Luke his light sword hilt, watching his grin get bigger. Luke was obviously happy to be holding his sword again- it was a little like giving him his teddy bear back.

A dangerous teddy bear, Din thought to himself, but Din couldn't criticise Luke's attachment to his weapon. He would feel the same if someone took his spear or blaster rifle. 

"You sure about this?" Luke asked, wolfish delight tinging his grin. There was a predatory hint to his expression now, as if eager to take Din down a peg or two. 

Din found himself gulping- a little intimidated, and a little flushed, about Luke's sudden confidence. 

"Less sure now, but I'll try it anyway." Din admitted, feeling nervous in Luke's presence for the first time since he'd met him.

Luke strode into the ring, back straight and expression set. Din felt the ground shift beneath him, and any notions that Luke wasn't as powerful as him fled his consciousness as he watched Luke ignite his light-sword and swish it in a circle, clearly so comfortable with it it was as if it was an extra limb. 

Din watched, taking note of Luke's stance- it was different to General Kenobi's in the way that Kenobi often opened with a defensive stance, and different to his father's in the way that the older Skywalker preferred to open with a one handed semi-defensive position. Luke's stance was two handed; both defensive and offensive. 

His lightsaber was also green where his father and so-called grandfather's were blue. Din found it contrasted with Luke's steel blue eyes nicely, but he couldn't ignore the possibility that lightsaber colours might mean something to the Jedi. He wondered briefly if black was a bad omen. 

"Are you just going to stare at me all day or are we going to actually going to fight?" Luke asked nonchalantly, and Din was startled out of his thoughts. 

Din shifted uncomfortably, glancing at the Darksaber in his hands with rising discomfort. The Darksaber meant so much- not just in the history of Mandalore, but for Din's future role as King. He wasn't sure if even sparring with a Jedi was alright. Would the Darksaber curse him for doing so? 

Sometimes it felt like the Darksaber had a personality of it's own, but... Din wasn't sure if it was his imagination just playing tricks on him. 

"I mean, I know I'm pretty, but still." Luke joked, trying to get his attention- clearly seeing that Din was overthinking this, and Din looked back up at him. Luke was bent at the knees- a look of focus on his face. There was something about the steadiness of that look that urged Din to find the same centred-ness in himself. 

Din ignited the Darksaber, watching for Luke's reaction and praying that the fact the saber was black wouldn't scare him off. 

Soft surprise and wonder filled his face for a moment, and Din could see the way Luke's lips parted and eyes widened from where he stood a couple metres away. Din gulped again, finding a lick of flame shooting up the side of his chest at the way the expression caught him off guard. He smothered it. 

But then Luke's expression was once again filled with intent- he stepped towards Din, twirling his light-sword for a moment, before striking at Din, pushing him back. Din lifted the Darksaber, which was grasped with both of his hands, blocking the attack. Luke pushed on, going on the offensive as he exchanged blows with Din easily- not being too aggressive but not going too easy on Din either. 

Din just tired to keep up, panting hard, the speed Luke was going at already faster than their usual sparring- by the time Din had blocked a blow Luke was already striking again. The pace was superhuman, and Din was out of breath just trying to keep up with it, scrambling to not get accidentally skewered despite his Beskar.

Luke feinted to the left, and Din followed clunkily- just trying to stay in the fight and not being able to strategise. Luke stepped back to the right, using his momentum to catch his blade against the Darksaber's and tug, and Din watched in frustration as the Darksaber was torn from his grip and spun into the sand- shutting itself off automatically. 

It was quiet as Luke raised his humming saber, the green tip poised near Din's throat. Quiet power simmered off of Luke's aura as he stared up at him, and Din couldn't help but gulp at how close Luke was to him now- how little distance there was between Din's throat and the tip of Luke's saber. 

The Darksaber flew into Luke's open and waiting other hand, and Luke studied it casually, before giving Din an appraising look as he lowered his own light sword, shutting it off. Din had to smother more heat that had risen inside his chest. Perhaps he was getting heat stroke from the sun, or perhaps Luke's clear competence and power display with that light sword of his was just plainly hot. Din couldn't tell now, and the lines between the two were getting more and more blurred the longer they spent in the sun with Luke in that drenched tank top and sweaty dirty blonde hair that fell in his face nicely. 

"I win." 

"There was never any doubt, Skywalker." 

Luke passed the Darksaber back to Din. 

"You have a lot of work to do if you're going to beat all those challengers." 

Din sighed in frustration. "I know." 

Din needed work. 

Like, a lot of work. 

Luke found himself glancing at Din's feet again, bothered by the way Din held his stance. 

He had never had much practice teaching, but somehow he just knew that he just needed to work through the issues in Din's stance one by one to even get Din to understand basic saber technique. They way he held his weight was a glaringly obvious mistake that if Din was genuinely fighting a Jedi; any Jedi worth their salt would exploit his balance. 

"Your problem is you fight like a Mandalorian." Luke admitted. 

"That's not a bad thing, Jedi." Din grumbled defensively, his arms crossing.  

Luke huffed, a small smile finding it's way onto his face. "It is when you're trying to use a lightsaber, Din." 

Din let out another frustrated groan. 

"Who taught you how to use the saber?" Luke asked out of curiosity. Perhaps it could tell him where they went wrong.

"My Alor; The Armourer." Din shrugged. 

"That explains it." Luke sighed, and Din looked slightly offended.

"What's wrong with her teaching?" Din huffed.

"Your footwork is all wrong- it's too... blocky." Luke tried to explain. While his stance could possibly be some Force-null version of the Ataru combat form, it was all wrong and lacked the grace and flexibility of the actual Ataru combat form. "Your weight needs to be on the balls of your feet, not planting your feet down into the ground. You might as well be putting bags of sand on your feet if you do that." 

Din tried, but it was obviously hard for him with all the armour. Luke tried to take him through a few Ataru stances to see if that helped, before finding it glaringly obvious that Din wasn't quite understanding them. 

Probably because the way Mandalorians taught each other to fight had always been to find out how it works by figuring it out yourself and not practicing different stances individually, but Luke hadn't quite figured that out yet.

Finally, out of frustration but also seeing this issue, Luke willed Din's holocomm over to him and the Force responded in kind. Din gave him a confused and concerned look. 

Luke tossed Din his comm.

"Alright, put something with a good beat on, yeah?" 

"Huh?" Din asked, obviously not clued into Luke's train of thought. 

"Put some music on, bucket head." Luke chuckled. "Or do you Mandalorians not know what music is?" 

"Of course we know what music is." Luke could swear Din was pouting. 

"Well then, put some on." Luke teased, but Luke could sense Din was frowning indecisively as he tried to decide on a song. 

After about five minutes, Luke called the holocomm to him- surprising Din, deciding on a song himself while Din scoffed at him. "I was about to put one on!"

"We don't have all day, Din." Luke sighed dramatically, putting an ancient pop song with a good beat on. Din huffed, but didn't argue. 

"Fighting with sabers isn't like normal fighting. You have to be light on your feet. It's less like boxing and more like ballet and chess." Luke explained, throwing Din's holocomm back onto the speeder after setting the song on repeat, the comm blaring music now. 

"We're going to try this again but to the beat, if.. that makes sense to you." Din's aura was of grey confusion, but perhaps if they just... went for it. Din might get it. Luke just had a feeling that's how Din learnt things.

Luke lit his saber, giving it a habitual swish as he went into the first Ataru position. He pushed all his weight to the balls of his feet and focused his balance there. 

The beat was perfect for practice fighting- it's why Luke had chosen it. He'd used to practice his stances to this song back when he was just beginning as Obi Wan's Padawan. Two beats at a time, good for offence and defensive strikes. It was also high energy, which was perfect to try and get Din to sync with the rhythm to. 

Luke timed his blows to the beat of the song, trying to coax Din's movement to follow the beat- offensive offensive, defensive defensive. (Or in Din's case- defensive defensive, offensive offensive.) Luke kept his movement simple and to the beat, trying to emphasise the necessity of movement by encouraging Din to step more and more into Luke's personal space. Din just needed to catch the general drift of the repetitive rhythms of saber fighting, Luke felt. Then perhaps his motion would improve. 

After a while, Din's movement definitely was more fluid- though not perfect- he was at least moving instead of staying rooted in one spot. But there was something uncomfortable about the way he was holding his saber, and Luke wondered if this training would go better without it. 

Luke held his open palm out to Din, and shot him a look that meant he was clearly asking for something when Din shot him a confused look- he was too caught up in this half baked teaching plan to verbalise what he was thinking at the moment, and so was happy when Din pressed the Darksaber into his hand. 

He scanned the stuff they had brought, before spying a pair of sticks that Luke guessed Din had brought to draw lines in the sand with. They would be perfect as practice sabers. 

Luke summoned them with the Force, the Force of the air providing a current of air to help him out, before tossing one to Din. He put the two unlit sabers down on the ground for now.

Din seemed a little lost, perhaps shocked by Luke's teaching methods, but definitely seemed more comfortable with the stick. He gave it a familiar twirl. 

They tried again, to the same song, and this time Din faired better. Luke had been right in the fact that Din was clearly uncomfortable with the Darksaber, for whatever reason. Din pushed back and defended better, his grip easier and his movement a little bit more fluid (courtesy of Luke's musical training earlier.) 

"Interesting song choice." Din teased when Luke was pushing him closer to the edge of the ring. It was definitely clear Din was getting more comfortable with this if he was already teasing Luke. 

Luke found himself laughing. "I used to practice my stances to this song when I was younger." 

A laugh bubbled up in Din's own chest, his defence weakened momentarily with it. Luke took advantage of it and tried to twist the stick out of Din's hand. 

"I'm imagining a little youngling Luke listening to this song doing weird poses with a lightsaber and it's great." Din laughed again, pushing Luke back for a moment to chuckle. 

"Glad you find it funny." Luke huffed without any heat to it, a fond smile on his face.

"Well the song is about sex, after all." Din pointed out dubiously, mischief to his aura and tone. Luke sensed he was raising an eyebrow at him with a smirk, but couldn't be sure. 

"I didn't realise that as a kid, I'm afraid." Luke replied wryly, swinging his stick in a showing-off type of way. They were circling each other now, looking for an opening. "But I'm sorry if the song being about sex offends your sensibilities, Manda'lor." 

Din's aura darkened, the maroon from earlier returning. Luke found himself gulping at the change in atmosphere. 

Was Din flirting with him? Was Luke flirting with Din?? 

Even Luke was unsure where this was coming from- sure, he knew he found Din attractive, but he'd never considered the possibility of Din finding Luke attractive until just now. 

"It really doesn't." Din replied almost slyly. "I mean, unless you want it to, Mesh'la."

Luke chuckled. "No need to be mean, dear." he joked sarcastically. 

"Now why would I be that?" Din teased back stepping into Luke's breathing space to engage him. Luke blocked the blows easily. 

Luke leaned in, looking Din in the eye with intent, keeping Din's stick at bay by pushing his weight onto it. "I don't know, Manda'lor, why wouldn't you be?" 

Din pushed back, off balancing Luke again- he did a flip and landed a metre away in a defensive stance.

"You know..." Din announced faux thoughtfully. "I've always hated people calling me Manda'lor, but somehow when you say it you manage to make it sound good." 

A shiver went down Luke's back- surprised by how attractive Din's admission was. The temperature was dropping- it was getting into the afternoon, but Luke's chest was alight with an electric current all of a sudden. 

"Well, you know... I'm full of surprises." Luke managed to get out- he was flushed all over, heart racing not really from exertion anymore. 

Din chuckled, confidently moving in to engage Luke again. Luke blocked them and found himself on the defensive as Din pushed him towards the edge of the ring. Luke forced himself to focus. Din was only winning because he had managed to distract him. 

Luke focused on bringing the pace of their exchanges of blows back up again- channelling the Force into steadying his reflexes as he managed to use this burst of speed to push them back into the centre of the ring. 

Finally, he used his surprise to his advantage, twisting Din's stick out of his hand while he was still doing his best to lean away from Luke. 

With one swipe to Din's legs from Luke's foot, Din toppled over- defeated. 

"Good." Luke found himself praising. He was happy with Din's progress today, but he definitely needed more practice if he wanted to get better at using the saber. He held an arm out to Din to grab to help him up. Din took it. "You're getting the hang of it." 

Din's aura brightened, suffused yellow with delight. 

"But we need to keep going. You still have a long way to go if you're going to survive the challengers." Luke grimaced.

Din sighed long-sufferingly, but seemed to agree. 

"And if you think you've heard the last of this song, you're dead wrong. We'll listen to this song as many times as it takes for you to get used to the pace of saber fighting." Luke teased, his lips turning up at the corners. 

Din groaned in frustration, moving to turn the song off. 

There was a comfortable moment of silence broken only by the music in the background. The afternoon, which was cooler now, was nice- and Luke took a moment to appreciate it. If he was back with the Jedi army, he would most likely be in the courtyard with Grandpa Obi Wan, Aunt Ahsoka and Leia, enjoying some afternoon tea and pleasant conversation. 

Despite the fact that he did miss that, he was finding that he very much enjoyed this use of his afternoon as well. 

"Why are you so uncomfortable with your saber? Aren't you allowed to practice with it?" Luke finally asked, the idea bugging him. No warrior, Jedi or no, should be uncomfortable with their saber. Sabers were reflections of the self- they were supposed to be your best friend, your right arm; the core of your strength. 

Din paused where he was fiddling with his holocomm. The silence that followed his turning the song off seemed solemn, all of a sudden. 

"I am, but..." Din growled in frustration, seeming at a loss for words. "I don't know... just..." 

Luke had the feeling that suddenly this was a very personal conversation. He stepped towards Din, his hand finding Din's of it's own accord and giving it a squeeze. It was a similar unconscious comforting movement his mother used to give him, too. Luke found himself following it for a lack of any other way to show support, not thinking about the implications of the action.

"You can tell me. Din." Luke took a steadying breath. "I would understand if you didn't want to, or if you were uncomfortable with it... but... Just know it's safe with me." 

Din glanced at him, squeezing Luke's hand back before letting go. He sighed.

"I can't help but get the feeling it's not really mine to wield. It's too similar to your Jetii weapons to be a coincidence... Somehow I can't help but wonder if that damn sword is going to curse me for going against the Jetii." he admitted softly.

Luke looked up at Din, trying to find his eyes behind the helmet. The sun helped, and he got the impression of a pair of soft, downturned eyes. The sincerity of it tugged at Luke's heartstrings. 

"Din." Luke breathed, trying to find the words to describe the clear care and worry Din felt not just about becoming King, but of the responsibility he felt for Luke's people. The words to try and assuage those very fears- that Din was doing all he could at the moment and that Luke trusted he would continue doing all he could to help Luke and the Jedi and end the war for good. 

"Sabers don't work like that." Luke comforted with a small smile. "Besides, ... Din. You're doing all you can to help the Jedi- I can see that. If practice fighting against me helps you get to that goal, I'm sure it understands that." 

Din nodded slowly, clearly drinking Luke's words in. 

"I can look into the Darksaber's creation if it helps- I'm sure we have something about it in our archives if you're so sure it's of Jedi making." Luke promised gently, searching Din's aura for confirmation. It shifted from bright glaringly uncomfortable orange and purple worry to yellow joy. 

"If it's no trouble." Din asked, voice barely a whisper. Luke smiled, happy to be able to do something for Din- happy to help ease a little of this burden of Din's. 

"It won't be. Not if it's for you." Luke smiled, and something in Luke's chest warmed as Din's aura brightened completely. 

Chapter Text

The rest of the week passed in a tangle of Din going to lead the offence of the war, his free daylight hours spent in the dessert sparring with Luke, hasty dinners and rushed lunches, listening to Bo-Katans endless strategic drivel, checking up on his ad'ika to an increasingly more annoying Erin who would not shut up about Luke at this point. 

"I'm not dating him, can you please stop drilling me for gossip?" Din had groaned once. She seemed to be on a mission to do with getting him to ask Luke on a date, but Din was too busy to even consider that. 

Erin huffed, blowing a raspberry at him. "Your grumpy buir doesn't want to help me make money."  she complained to his ad, gesturing at him. 

His ad'ika pouted at him. At him!! Pouted. At. Him. 

"You're catching too much of Erin's influence." Din grumbled. "Maybe I should keep him in my room from now on; if he's only going to behave like that." 

"And what? How would you feed him when you're out all the time?" Erin countered knowingly. "At least I'm free to help him during the day." 

Din huffed, rolling his eyes fondly. 

By the time they caught a break, it was after dinner the day before Benduday. Luke was drinking something from a spherical takeaway cup and was flopped all over Din's bed with absolutely zero sense of decorum. Din had just returned from checking up on his ad'ika, and there was finally nothing else to do for a while. Tomorrow was a completely free day. They had planned to spend tomorrow out in the dessert, going over saber techniques. (At Luke's insistence.) 

"The feast is tomorrow." Din announced, leaning against the wall of the refresher, watching Luke wryly. A strange sense of endearment rose in his chest as Luke poked a head up drowsily from his splayed out position. His hair was a mess. 

"Huh?" 

Din chuckled to himself softly. "The communal feast." Din repeated. "It's tomorrow night." 

"Oh." Luke realised. 

"We missed it last week with our dramatics." Din added, his tone light. 

"We did?" Luke asked blearily, seeming only half aware of the time that had passed since he'd joined Din. His confused expression was kind of adorable. 

"Yes, Luke, we did." Din huffed fondly, walking over to him and eyeing the takeaway cup in his hands. Luke let his head fall back onto Din's bed as he approached, not needing to hold it up to look at Din anymore. "What are you drinking?" 

Luke smirked, a playful hint to his expression as he glanced at the takeaway cup as well. 

"It's Jogan fruit juice." Luke replied obstinately. Din sensed there was more to it. 

"Right." Din's voice doubtful. "And you expect me to believe that?"

Luke laughed. "Espí offered me some spotchka to put in it. Said it would add to the flavour of it." 

Din grinned. There it was. 

They lapsed into momentary silence. 

"Well is it good?" Din asked, a little curious. 

"It is." Luke mused, seeming pleased at this turn of events. He eyed Din with amusement. 

"What's Espí doing offering you fire-water, anyway? You're not their foundling." Din teased, walking over to his shelf to look for a datapad. 

"I could be if you're not careful." Luke joked, his eyes following Din as he moved about the room. 

Din gasped in mock offence, clutching his chest dramatically. "You would never."

Luke's eyes sparkled with mirth. "I might." 

"After all I've done for you?" Din joked, faking being tearful about it. "Oh no, whatever would I tell the children?" 

Luke burst into laughter, and Din found himself laughing as well at his own joke. 

Din fished a datapad off of his shelf as their laughter faded, plopping himself onto Luke's mattress on the floor considering Luke had commandeered the entirety of Din's bed for himself. It was only fair. They sat in comfortable silence as Din caught up on the messages Boba had been sending him about his exploits on Tatooine. 

Luke stood up all of a sudden, and started pawing at the window. 

"What are you doing?" Din asked, puzzled. 

"Does this thing open?" Luke answered, his voice strained slightly, tugging at the window before finding a button to open it. The window swung open with a hiss.

Din watched, confused, as Luke pushed the window all the way open and sat on the windowsill looking out at the dessert. It was night time, and cooler. In the distance there were lights on the horizon of villages cleaning up after dinner, or from the Jedi base. 

"Just wanted some air." Luke said aloud to assuage Din's bewilderment. Luke seemed... withdrawn, wistful and distant all of a sudden. 

Din shivered, kind of wanting to close the window due to the cold, but didn't mention it. He went back to his messages. Boba was whining about all the messages Bo-Katan's clan kept sending him- demanding he return to Mandalore to serve his people as Jango Fett's ad. 

It was funny because Bo-Katan had never really considered Boba as Mandalorian; she'd even made it a point to remind Boba how much of a clone he was. 

As if Jango didn't raise Boba personally in the way of the Mandalorian. Din mused to himself. 

When Din looked up from his datapad again, Luke was clambering out the window, jumping up effortlessly to what Din presumed was the roof- he heard the thump as Luke landed. 

Din raised an eyebrow at Luke's erratic behaviour. What was Luke up to? 

Luke missed his family. He couldn't explain why, but perhaps after almost three weeks of being apart from them he missed being able to meditate and indulge in the peaceful atmosphere of the central courtyard. He missed his mother's doting and his father's snark, his grandfather's insistence on offering him tea every time he came over for training and his aunt plotting pranks on his dad that interrupted their day. He couldn't stay inside- it felt suffocating not having the Jedi base in view.

He missed Leia; who had said that the leather jacket and dragon hairpin he had given her for her eighteenth birthday was 'an injury to fashion everywhere' and yet he never caught her without the damn jacket. He remembered that one time they had to dress up for some special event- she had donned her traditional fancy Jedi robes and had the Krayt dragon hairpin in too. When he'd teased her about her false dislike of the hairpin she had just huffed at him and told him to not let it get to his head. 

He knew it was bound to happen, missing his family- he spent most of his time with his family in the Jedi military compound. His mum was probably worried about him; Leia probably ready to murder him. It was a bittersweet ache, though. Because he had grown to really enjoy Din's company; and he didn't want to leave. He had found that unravelling the intricacies of Din's character in sparkling flashes of wit and sincere discussions about culture had been incredibly rewarding, and... he was certain he didn't want that to stop. 

Luke was anxious that when he inevitably had to leave in a couple days to return to the Jedi that Din would, in his absence, decide that Luke wasn't worth his time. 

"Luke!" Din called, shaking him from his thoughts, and Luke looked down from the star filled sky he hadn't really been looking at so much as seeing past. Din was standing in the sand below, illuminated by the open window and carrying two large blankets. "Catch!"

He was surprised into a laugh, and it bubbled up in his chest as he held his hands out in front of him ready to catch the blankets he assumed Din would throw. Luke called upon the Force of the air to help stop them in mid-air, before coaxing them over to a stop next to where he sat on the roof. 

Luke pulled one of the soft, grey, blankets around himself- grateful for it. Now that Luke was paying attention, it was cold out, and his thin and loose sleeping clothes weren't quite cutting it. 

When Din got to him, he pulled on the second grey blanket; manoeuvring it around himself as he inched over to sit next to Luke.

"Scooch over." Din grumbled. Luke found himself snorting at Din's bluntness, but complied. 

When Din had finally gotten comfortable, he turned to Luke with a confused grey aura after a moment of taking the stars in.

"So..." Din started, as if unsure he should ask questions. "Any particular reason you decided to come out here?"

Luke let out a rueful, monosyllabic laugh. "Not really. I just wanted to look at the stars." Din seemed to understand after that. 

There was a moment of silence that balanced on the edge of a hairpin between them- Din seemed stuck between wanting to make conversation and wanting to enjoy the silence; just as Luke was stuck between telling Din about his family and ruminating on them himself. He had been excited by how easily he could openly talk about his family with Din- without any pretences. To Din; Obi Wan wasn't 'like his grandfather,' he was Luke's grandfather. Which despite being the truth; was a truth never spoken aloud amongst the Skywalkers.

The words they wanted to say but didn't buzzed in their ears between them. 

It was Luke who broke first; the silence overwhelming. It wasn't a surprise, really- Luke was never one to be able to keep his mouth shut. 

"My dad told me once," Luke opened without ceremony. "why our family name was Skywalker."

"Oh?" Din asked, spurring Luke on.

"I was only a kid- I had only done a couple years of Jedi Academy." Luke smiled. "My sister and I were hanging around on the observation deck on a quiet night when he told us the whole story."

Din leaned back onto his hands as Luke back turned to him to explain. "My biological grandmother; Shmi, was a slave. So was my father, for a while." 

If Din's force aura was one of shock- Luke ignored it. "Slaves... they aren't supposed to have last names- their last name belongs to their owner. They're supposed to not try to differentiate themselves from their owner by having one; but my grandmother wanted one anyway. It was her... act of defiance. She looked to the sky once, late at night with my father, and pointed to the stars. He had been crying about their situation." 

Luke couldn't help but look to the stars himself, not noticing Din soften as he did so. "She promised Anakin that they'd get off Tatooine one day- even if they had to trek through the stars themselves. Do you know what Anakin said?" 

Luke glanced over to Din with a delighted smile. "Something about Skywalkers?" Din asked, his aura sparkling. 

"Yeah. He said; 'Does that mean we'll be Sky walkers, mom?' " Luke smiled warmly. It was clear he was very fond of this story.

Din chuckled. "That's a cute story." Luke beamed.

Luke turned to look out at the stars, his gaze finding the Jedi compound instinctively- the room where he knew he'd find his sister in was ringed by an outline of the twinkling stars. 

"Did... did your dad teach you how to fight?" Din asked tentatively, almost shyly. He seemed genuinely curious in an endearing way. 

Luke grinned. "No. It's a little bit of a long story." 

Din laughed. "I have nothing but time." he teased. 

Luke huffed, jokingly acting as if Din was forcing him to share. "Alright. I started earlier than most younglings did; mostly because of how my childhood was." 

Luke's childhood was unlike most Jedi younglings. It wouldn't have been typical, of course, with having Senator Padmé Naberrie as his mother and Anakin Skywalker- the kriffing chosen one- as his father. 

Not only that, the secrecy behind his parentage had coloured a lot of his interactions with Anakin. Sometimes the silence of the things his father wanted to say but couldn't was deafening. It pressed oppressively upon them both. 

His earliest memory was of the Clone Wars. It was vague, and all he could get the impression of was blaster fire, clanking and Captain Rex and Aunt Ahsoka shouting frantically. 

Then, where his coherent memories begin, was the period of time he spent on Tatooine, with his aunt and uncle. Leia would follow them around all day, pestering them with questions when she was supposed to be helping with the harvest while Luke was semi-working and kind of laughing at their irritation. 

The farming had been peaceful, and he'd made a few friends there. Luke couldn't remember them clearly, but a few names came to him when he thought about it. Biggs being one of them. 

One memory from Tatooine he was clear on, though, was his dislike of farming. He'd always questioned why he had to stay with their aunt and uncle on the Skywalker's side, and only found out why later in life when his mother finally gave in and explained her reasoning.

"Luke, I just wanted you two away from the war. It wasn't safe to have you two with us in the middle of the war. We tried to keep you with us as long as we could, but in the end it was too risky- especially after the assassination attempt." 

"The what-" Luke spluttered in reply at the time.

"The separatists had discovered you two at the time, and sent a bounty hunter to attempt to sneak behind our lines to kill you. After that... we were both terrified of not being able to save you from that- sure, we had managed it, but..." His mother gazed at him, seeming melancholy. "We decided to set our pride aside and do what was best for the both of you. We didn't know if there would be a next assassination attempt, and ultimately... we didn't want to find out." 

After a few years hidden with their Skywalker family, Luke and Leia moved to Naboo to live with their family there in the city. His mother had decided that they were old enough that a bounty hunter would be less likely to come after them, with the constant vigilance of her relatives of course. There they stayed with Padmé's kind mother; their grandmother. 

When they were eight and their force sensitivity was clearly apparent, Padmé finally gave in to Anakin's insistence that they train at the Jedi temple. They were among the oldest Jedi younglings ever admitted into the order. Luke's mother had told him years later that his father had insisted upon it from the very beginning, but she was adamant that their formative years would not be spoiled by getting caught up in the drama of their secret marriage being possibly discovered by the Council. She'd pushed off their admittance to the Jedi order until she couldn't anymore, and as blasphemous as it may be, Luke was grateful to her for that. It had allowed him time to gain his own perspective about the world before being admitted to the ways of the Force. He'd had the chance to get a feel for the family his father had carved out of the war for himself. 

Despite the risks, Luke and Leia had gone on trips to visit Padmé and Anakin twice a year. The Jedi Council had been opposed to this until Padmé had threatened legal action that the council knew she would win, and they eventually conceded their permission. Luke and Leia had spent hours playing dejarik against the clones, watching low quality pirated holoshows for kids, etc. It wasn't until they were old enough to throw a solid punch that Luke had discovered the art of sparring. 

It was one fatefully boring night shift- Luke and Leia had fallen prey to jet-lag and couldn't sleep. The 501st legion (Anakin's division) were in the rec room, drinking, playing dejarik, some illegal gambling and drinking games, and a DIY version of dance dance revolution in the back that wasn't very entertaining. 

But Luke couldn't find Uncle Rex and Aunt Ahsoka, so he asked around before someone mentioned that Rex was sparring in the gym. "You'll probably find Commander Tano there too, kid." 

When Luke came upon the gym, he was intrigued by the sparring. 

"Whoa whoa whoa, kid-" Uncle Rex exclaimed when he caught sight of little Luke wandering around, watching. "You're not supposed to be here." 

Aunt Ahsoka chuckled good-naturedly. "C'mon Rex, let him see what's in here! There's no harm in that." 

"But-" Uncle Rex protested weakly, clearly getting the feeling it wasn't appropriate for a kid his age to be in the gym watching them spar. 

"Little Luke's seen worse, haven't you?" Aunt Ahsoka shrugged, a small smile on her face that she clearly reserved for talking to children. 

'Little Luke' and 'Dessert fox' had been Ahsoka's frequent nicknames for him. She usually said it accompanying a ruffle to his hair and a teasing tone.  The dessert fox nickname had arisen from when Aunt Ahsoka had noticed his penchant for being playful, quick and said he enjoyed extreme temperatures too much. She'd laughed and said he was like a dessert fox. The nickname still lived on. 

Luke had nodded at the time. Uncle Rex had relaxed a little, but still seemed nervous. 

"What are you doing, Aunt 'Soka?" Luke asked. Ahsoka laughed. 

"We're practice fighting." Ahsoka put in that sweet voice you put on when trying to explain something simply to a child.

"Ohhhh, I see." Luke was still curious, though. He looked up at her. "Can I try it, Aunty 'Soka?" 

Ahsoka looked taken aback, and shot a look to Uncle Rex, whose face shifted in warning. She considered it for a moment, a hand moving to the tooth headpiece she usually wore.

"Sure, why not?" Aunt Ahsoka agreed, and Uncle Rex looked horrified. "Are you sure-" 

"Rex, my people learn to fight at a younger age than this and I turned out fine." 

"Really?" Uncle Rex asked, surprised. 

"Of course. By age fourteen, we complete a coming of age ceremony where we have to hunt down an Akul." Aunt Ahsoka shrugged, leading Luke to the sparring ring. 

Uncle Rex looked impressed. 

"The akul teeth are beaded onto the headdress you wear. This one's mine." Aunt Ahsoka smiled wryly, pointing towards her forehead. 

"Wow. That's... That puts Master Shaak Ti in another light." Uncle Rex remarked pensively. Aunt Ahsoka laughed at his thought. 

"Now Luke, we're going to start off with basic technique..."

The lessons she taught him continued every time he visited from then on. Luke didn't know that technically Aunt Ahsoka wasn't supposed to be doing it until Obi Wan caught them one day, and she seemed very sheepish. 

"Sorry Obi Wan, just trying to pass the time." Aunt Ahsoka tried, looking guilty. He had pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed. 

"It's alright, Ahsoka. Have you been safe about it, at least?" 

Aunt Ahsoka looked up at him in surprise. "You're fine with it?" 

Obi Wan gave her a long-suffering look. "I could never fault you for teaching someone who wants to learn. That is, of course..." 

They both looked at Luke for a reply. 

"I like Aunt 'Soka teaching me some fighting! It's so cool!" Luke exclaimed, all smile-y and energetic. "You... you won't tell her to stop, will you, Grandpa?" 

Obi Wan had just about choked at the name, and Aunt Ahsoka was silently laughing at him. If Luke squinted he could see Uncle Rex doing the same, trying in vain to hide his laughter. 

"Now, Luke-" Obi Wan tried, looking uncomfortable. But it was too late. Aunt Ahsoka was already howling with laughter. 

After awhile, Leia started to join the sparring too- purely for something to do. The entertainment options were limited on military starships. There wasn't that much holonet broadband available, and any illegally downloaded movies the clones of the 501st had had already been watched by the twins and clones alike. 

Sometimes, when the 212th battalion was travelling with the 501st (this happened often- as Anakin and Obi Wan often went on missions together), an unofficial tournament was held. Luke and Leia joined when they were finally allowed to by Uncles Rex and Cody at age eight- towards the end of their training as Jedi Younglings. 

At the time, they had had the highest handicaps of all the clones. It was to be expected due to their age. 

The last time Luke and Leia had joined, before the Mandalorian war had started, their handicap had gone into the negatives. Meaning they had to be put at a disadvantage to make it fair for everyone else. 

Regardless, Luke had good memories of Anakin, Aunt Ahsoka and Uncle Obi Wan tucking them in in the guest room across from theirs- saying goodnight with a fond smile. 

Luke and Leia would stay up all night talking in whispers about all sorts of things- fantasies and dreams, ridiculous stories about how they would one day be as strong as their gramps, father or aunt while whatever planet they were stationed above turned below. They wanted to spend their days doing good for the Republic and messing around with their clone trooper friends too! 

Sometimes they would be trying to sleep; but the hyperspace turbulence would wake them up, and Leia would get up and get into his bed to see if that helped. They would wake up all tangled up in weird knots- Leia had a habit of accidentally suffocating him and Luke had a habit of leaving one leg hanging off the bed. 

Din took this all in, his aura growing warm with a hint of pink. 

"That's... wow..." Din commented incoherently. "Your childhood sounds... lovely, actually." 

"It does?" Luke was surprised. 

"It does. You clearly love your family, and that's really sweet." Din said appreciatively. Luke beamed. 

Luke turned to Din, scooting closer to him. "Ok. Your turn." 

"Huh?" Din asked, surprised.

"I told you my story about my family and how I learnt to spar... maybe you could tell me about yours?" Luke asked cautiously. 

"Oh." Din looked down into his lap, feeling uncomfortable. He'd never been any good at talking about himself. He wasn't sure what to say- his family was a painful subject. 

"Well... it's..." Din coughed. "Complicated." 

Luke's eyes trailed Din's figure as if he was sensing Din's discomfort. "You don't have to if you don't want to- I just realised it might be hard to talk about." 

Din turned to look Luke in the eye. Luke held his gaze, somehow unerringly able to look him in the eye despite the helmet. Din felt something soften within him. 

"No... I want to." Din pondered softly, chest warm from Luke's considerateness. Din wanted to share something of himself the way Luke had, even if he found it hard to verbalise. He felt a weight on his shoulder; Luke had just dropped his head to rest onto Din's shoulder. He felt something settle contentedly in his stomach at the comforting action. 

"There are two ways to become Mandalorian." Din started, deciding to start where it was safest. "Either by blood, or becoming a foundling." 

Din could feel Luke's mouth twitch into a smile from where his cheek met Din's shirt. "I'm guessing you were a foundling." 

"I was." Din confirmed warmly, finding it hard not to smile at Luke's earnestness. A breeze passed them by, and Luke pulled the blanket tighter around himself, burrowing a little into Din's shoulder to the point it was slightly uncomfortable- but bearable. A moment of peace washed over him, before shifting into an off-kilter feeling as he realised in order to continue the story he would have to mention the terrifying moment that had brought him to the Mandalorians in the first place. "The day I was taken in was also... probably the worst day of my life. The Clone War had reached Aq Ventina, and droids were everywhere slaughtering civilians all around us. There was no Republic to protect us, not so far out from the core." 

He could feel Luke shift, a little bit of weight leaving Din's shoulders as Luke looked up at him- listening raptly to his story. 

"My parents... they tried to get us out, tried to find a path to a ship leaving the planet, but... There were too many of them, and it was chaos all around us. I don't know if they realised that all the ships had already left, or perhaps they were all destroyed, but they obviously thought there was no escape." Din's voice was low and gravelly as it told the harrowing story, and Din could still see the droids and the screaming people on the streets as clear as day- almost as if it happened just yesterday. "They hid me in a hatch they had spied from the street."

Luke smushed his face into Din's shoulder as he took a breath; a moment to grieve. 

"That was the last I ever saw of them. I know they're dead." Din admitted gently, eyeing the stars in the sky of Mandalore. "I got rescued by a Mandalorian from the Death Watch tribe. He's dead now too; he died trying to get me to the Tribe's ship." 

It was silent for a spell as Luke seemed to drink the story in. "That's..." A breath. "I'm so sorry, Din."

Din sighed heavily, as if burdened by something he couldn't name. "It's... alright." 

"Still." Luke's hand smushed it's way through the blankets to reach out and squeeze the hand on the side of Din Luke was on. The comforting gesture reminded Din of the nights that he had spent on Aq Ventina with his mother in front of the fire. She'd always be singing and often be stitching something that Din had accidentally ripped while running around playing childish games. His mother would also tsk at him and remind him to be more observant so as to not trip over things as he went. He'd only started listening to her advice after he'd lost her. 

Din found his own head had relaxed, resting on Luke's where it sat on his shoulder, lost in the comfort of his memories. He inhaled a sharp, grounding breath and picked his head up- eyes wandering through the different stars in the sky. 

"I learnt to fight from The Armourer. The Alor. After my founder died, she became like a mother to me. She taught me everything I needed to know about The Way and my creed. She would organise lessons so the older members of the tribe could teach the foundlings to fight." Din smiled, remembering the fun he'd had beating the crap out of Paz that first time they had gotten to spar. The look on his face when the young Vizla had had to eat his empty threats. 

"When we were kids, Paz would always threaten me and try to intimidate me, but... it had been pretty funny that first time we sparred when I beat him. The look of shock itself was worth the bruises I had afterwards." Din chuckled. "This was before we promised ourselves to the Way."

Din could feel Luke smile again. "So Paz is like your brother then? Is Erin like your sister, or?"

"Huh?" Din laughed. "Not exactly. Paz is kind of a brother, but Erin... she's more like a really annoying cousin. She's the sister of Kiikar, who is from my tribe. He follows the Way, but she doesn't." 

"Oh." Luke replied wryly. "It's just... you two act that way." 

Din laughed, but didn't comment on it. Perhaps Luke was right, but he wouldn't know. 

"I suppose we do." Din mused, thinking back to Erin and his ad'ika fondly. There was comforting quiet for a moment as they both looked at the stars; reflecting on the people that they had loved or lost. There was a hint of something unspoken in the air- perhaps it was a tinge of care, or something else entirely. 

"I'm glad you found a family for yourself, Din." Luke whispered, as if his admission was so delicate it had to be said quietly. 

Din smiled ruefully, turning his head to gaze down at where Luke was still using his shoulder as a pillow. He had to admit that it was sweet that Luke cared enough to comment on it. 

"Me too." Din whispered back. He couldn't help but bring an arm around Luke by way of giving him a grateful hug. "I'm glad that your family is together again despite... whatever it is your Jedi have against it." 

Din could feel Luke's appreciative smile against his shirt. Din supposed that it was the path of the starlight that led them both to find family in the strangest places.

They sat under the stars; forgetting what their intimacy could mean for them and instead just took comfort in each other's presence. 

It was a while before Din was taken from his thoughts long enough to realise Luke had fallen asleep.

Chapter Text

Luke knew exactly what was going to happen tomorrow, and if he was honest, he wasn't entirely sure the conflict he was having about it wouldn't tear him apart before he got to tomorrow. 

He knew he needed to return to the Jedi compound; wanted to, deeply. Luke couldn't keep himself away from the epicentre of the Force on a planet that abhorred the Jedi for long. But there was some irrational urge that sat at the bottom of his stomach that tied him here; screeching to stay, making him linger, making him hesitate, giving him the impression he was abandoning Din somehow. He wasn't sure how; especially when Din had already made it clear that Luke was welcome to leave at any time, but Luke couldn't deny that the urge was there. 

All that Luke knew was that this feeling wasn't tied to the Force in any way; it was something else. The product of feelings he hadn't yet explored, and hadn't quite registered the existence of. 

He pushed them down. They could wait- and something told him that whatever was lurking in the pits of his stomach might just consume him from the inside out if he let it. 

The water fell around him like water spray from the waterfalls on Naboo, and Luke couldn't help but take joy in the luxury of it. The Jedi base didn't have any water to shower with; just sonics, so it had been awhile since he had showered using water. Before meeting Din, he hadn't had a proper shower with water in at least a couple years- if you discounted the times he had thrown a bucket water over himself to get some tar off. 

Due to the restrictions on water supply by the local villages, water at the Jedi compound was used only for water and food, and only a small amount was apportioned off for emergency showers in life threatening circumstances or to fill the bowl that sat under the tree in the central courtyard for spiritual purposes. Despite Luke knowing that it was for good reason; he still found himself wishing back the moments he had spent when he had visited Naboo as a teenager. Luke and Leia would sneak off and away from the senatorial guards to the nearby hot spring and sit in the shallow water until they were blissed out; laughing and doing Force tricks all afternoon- basking in the serenity of the surrounding nature. They'd come back to their maternal grandmother's house wrinkled as prunes and a little more tanned. They were tired, but beaming. 

There was something calming about the way the Force surrounded him when submerged by water; a tether to reality, a sense of purity in his connection with the world around him. It was nothing compared to the way the Force connected to him through the earth or the air, however. 

Luke was trying to focus on luxury of the shower- it was probably going to be his last water shower in a while.

Who knew when he would finally find time to slink back to see Din?

The door to the refresher opened, and Din looked up, startled. 

Luke was uncharacteristically quiet as he stepped out, towelling his hair down and walking around in the loose white tunic and pants that Erin had lent him. He spread the towel he had been using onto Din's drying rack- white against the russet tones of Din's furniture. Din's towel from when he had used the refresher prior to Luke hung there already, drying in the dry dessert air of the room. 

Luke padded over to his mattress on the floor. Din wasn't sure what to say other than 'are you alright? you seem different,' and while Din wanted to ask that- it seemed strangely vulnerable to, somehow. Din swallowed his question, settling himself deeper into the pillows of his bed. 

"I think you're getting better at saber technique." Luke smiled kindly at Din as he sat down; cross-legged. He looked up at Din expectantly; as if knowing how this conversation would go with a hint of wit sparkling in his atmosphere. Din sensed something else to it that Luke wasn't mentioning. 

"But?" 

Luke laughed, eyes crinkling at the corners as he looked up at Din. "Why does there have to be a but?" 

"Because I know you." Din teased, getting up and stretching. Din missed the moment where Luke's eyes lingered on Din's briefly exposed midriff. 

"Well, you need to work on your defensive stances. Your movement's almost there, but..." Luke fretted, hands fidgety; clearly trying to figure it out. 

Luke sighed, defeated, clearly stuck. "I might need to review my own techniques. You seem to lean more towards the Shien forms rather than the Ataru forms, and while I know some Shien forms- I use them against my father whenever we train together, but... I need to remind myself of some of the more difficult mechanics of it." 

"Well... I don't think we have anything on that in our databases, but I can check." Din offered, trying to help. Luke was trying to help him after all; and Din felt useless in the face of all this Jedi technicality and unfamiliarity. He had hoped he could do something to aid Luke somehow.   

Luke smiled at him wryly. "Because I'm sure Mandalorians have saber techniques just lying around in their databases." 

Din chuckled. "Maybe not." 

They lapsed into silence as Din looked through his datapad shelf, not quite looking through them; mind whirring. Would Mandalorians have been able to make lightsabers, anyway? It seemed a little mystical how they worked, and yet... The Darksaber was still a Mandalorian artefact, regardless of whether Din had suspicions about it's Jedi roots. Surely the Mandalorians know something about sabers, against all odds. 

"Hey, Luke-" Din prodded, turning to him. "Would Mandalorians have been able to make lightsabers anyway?" 

Luke quirked an eyebrow at him, intrigued. "Of course." 

Din felt shock and confusion zip through him. Luke had his full attention now. "How??"

"Interested in making your own?" Luke teased, a smirk playing on his lips, Din felt his expression fall in exasperation with a harumph. 

"Well, first you would need to understand how lightsabers work- it's a little hard to explain otherwise." Luke sobered, becoming serious. 

"Oh." Din realised what Luke was asking Din for without him actually asking for it. They had worked the whole dance out- Din was getting used to reading Luke's body language the same way he knew Luke was getting to know his. The other day Luke had stopped him from threatening an imbecilic infantry soldier by stepping in to diffuse the situation.

They were beginning to truly understand each other, Din couldn't help but think warmly to himself. He moved towards the bedside drawer he had stored the saber inside in the first place- it sat nestled next to the Darksaber he hadn't returned to the Alor for safekeeping just yet. 

"Here." Din held the lightsaber out to Luke, the feeling and weight of Luke's lightsaber hilt somewhat more familiar now. There was a connection to it he couldn't name within himself; as if the lightsaber had become a symbol of something greater now- that he couldn't quite comprehend the meaning of himself yet. 

Luke grinned at him, taking the lightsaber from Din's hand gingerly, their hands brushing for an infinitesimal moment. Luke turned and called the Darksaber to him with the Force as well. Din felt distinct surprise at the action, but didn't voice it. He hadn't expected Luke to want to use the Darksaber in whatever demonstration he was trying. Perhaps Luke was curious about how the Darksaber worked as well.  

Din was slowly getting quite used to the casual way in which Luke used his gifts, and was also starting to understand the general concept of the Force now that he'd been exposed to it for a period of time. There was a familiarity to all-encompassing nature of it he couldn't name- something about it that just felt like a grounding universal truth. While Din already had religious beliefs; the Force just served to confirm the Resol'nare's principles to him, in a round about way. Din couldn't quite explain how himself. 

"Alright." Luke softened, smiling up at Din from where he sat down again; cross-legged on the mattress. He patted the space in front of him, laying the two sabers down next to each other in front of him almost reverently. Din sat facing Luke the way Luke had indicated to him; curiosity filling him up as he mirrored Luke's sitting position. 

"Lightsabers are not what you probably think they are." Luke opened with, eyeing Din carefully. "In their most basic form, they channel the Force. They're not made of electricity- not like other weapons." 

"Wait, the blade... that's the Force?" Din asked cautiously, seeming a little doubtful. Luke chuckled. 

"Yes." Luke grinned, and his lightsaber hilt floated up into the air between them as he flicked his fingers. "Here, hold on- it's hard to explain without..." 

The lightsaber hilt separated into parts in the air between them, stretched out so the insides were visible. Din felt awe drag him under in a flattening wave as he watched the way Luke interacted with each part with a ethereal sort of knowingness. Luke had built this as a youngling? 

But the really eye-catching part of the metal bits and parts hanging in midair was the shining green crystal that floated in the centre of the technological mess. 

"It's..." Din found himself saying, eyes flicking between the different parts of the taken apart lightsaber before returning to the crystal in turn. "Beautiful." He breathed. 

Luke's head glanced up, surprised, from where he'd been studying the bottom of his lightsaber hilt. A soft smile bloomed on his face, his gaze gentle. 

"Thank you." Luke blushed slightly. 

Their eyes locked, and they had a moment that crackled with possibility- something panged in Din's chest and he couldn't look away. Luke's dawn blue eyes were tinged with green from the way the green crystal illuminated his face- there was something powerful but also radiant about the way the green glow washed over Luke's features in the semi-dim light of the room. 

Luke took a breath, about to say something, and Din's heart raced with the anticipation of it- caught up in the moment. 

There was hesitation in Luke's eyes as he faltered for a moment, before glancing away. The moment broken. 

He coughed, straightening up. "The kyber crystals of Jedi lightsabers generally reflect their wielder; the colours have meanings, but I'm not too sure what all of them mean." 

Din glanced down at the Darksaber, which sat innocently on the floor in front of them- unlit. 

"What does Black mean, then?" Din asked sincerely, genuinely curious. 

"I'm not sure. I've never seen a black blade before." Luke replied, voice low and gentle as he admitted it. "Somehow... I don't think it was black before. Something must've happened to it to make it that way."

Din mulled on that for a moment and wondered whether or not killing in cold blood or out of ignorance could change the colour of the lightsaber crystals- and what that might mean for the Darksaber if it did. 

"And green?" Din inquired, studying Luke's reaction. Luke beamed at him. 

"Green means 'violence only when necessary.' " Luke quipped. 

Din quirked his brow, intrigued. "How come... the crystals represent their wielder? It... doesn't quite make sense." 

"Well for starters, Jedi have to find the crystal that calls to them as younglings- the crystal chooses them, not the other way around." Luke explained, his hand drifting to the back of his neck out of nervous habit. Din was suddenly reminded of the tattoo on the back of Luke's neck that read 'Crystal Clear' and realised there might be a connection in there, somehow. "It's a little hard to explain; but... your thoughts and actions translate into energy and flow through the crystal. The energy the blade uses feeds off the energy created by that."

Din mulled over this new information, gaze drifting to the Darksaber as he started to wonder whether the Mandalorians knew that before taking it in as a symbol of royalty. Did they know that their souls left an imprint on the blade? Would they care if they had stained it? 

"The point is- the power of lightsabers doesn't come from a battery; it comes from the crystal. If you direct anger and pain into the crystal, then the crystal's current becomes pure anger and pain after a while." 

"So the lightsabers don't have a battery?" 

Luke chuckled. "No. That's why you can have ancestral blades like the Darksaber without them breaking or running out of charge." 

"I see..." Din mused. And he did- it was clear there was more at work with lightsabers than what it at first had seemed. 

Din was quiet was he watched, intrigued, as Luke catalogued parts of the machinery- getting lost in the minutae of it for moments on end. 

"Could-" Din stopped himself, hesitant and slightly nervous. "If it's alright... Could you show me the Darksaber's?" 

That shook Luke back into reality. "Huh?" Luke backtracked for a moment, trying to figure out what Din had asked. "Oh, of course!" 

Din felt a burst of warmth in his stomach as Luke reached for the Darksaber. 

"Not going to lie- I'm curious too. I just didn't want to try it without you wanting me to." Luke grinned at him- Din felt something ache in his chest and was surprised by it.

Luke floated the Darksaber into the air between them; and Din suppressed the fact he was more captivated by Luke's serene expression than he was of Luke's use of his gifts. He forced himself to focus on the Darksaber. 

The Darksaber opened up in the air between them; unravelling piece by piece. The crystal of the blade was dark with white spots like the stars themselves. It hovered in the centre- glinting and glowing now without the machinery covering it. 

Din found himself out of words for a moment; stunned by the beauty of the crystal inside. He hadn't expected the crystal to be a galaxy of it's own. The blade was unsettling, but... the crystal felt more like a promise of a better universe and a new world. 

"Wow." Luke murmured, seeming similarly star-struck. "It's..." 

Din looked up at Luke, waiting with baited breath for his opinion.

"It looks like the view of the galaxy from a starship..." Luke said finally, when he had found his words. He was looking directly at Din. 

Luke eyes flicked back to the crystal, clearly enraptured by it. 

While Din knew that the Darksaber crystal was never meant to reflect him- it reflected whoever had crafted it, his chest still swelled with an unnamable sense of pride. As if the praise was meant for him, somehow, in a round about way. 

Chapter Text

The morning brought Luke's deadline upon him, and a sense of dread settled into his stomach as he got up early. He already longed for the comforts of his bed as he changed back into the clothes he had been wearing when he first found himself among the Mandalorians. Luke sorted all the clothes he had borrowed from Erin into a pile and put the pile of folded clothes into Din's laundry basket, before he set out to her room to return them. He'd spent last night in the laundry room, waiting around for the laundromats to finish their cycle- and then again with the dryer. 

"You're up early." Din remarked when Luke returned. Erin had just politely accepted the clothes back- along with his white lie that he'd bought some for himself. She had been getting ready for bed when he caught her. 

"I had something to do." Luke replied, feeling a little timid. 

They fell silent as Din got up for his day, and after waiting for Din to finish- Luke couldn't take it anymore. He had always hated keeping things to himself, and he didn't really want to spring this on Din without giving him time to process it. 

"So..." Luke tried, standing up and walking up to Din. 

Din scanned his outfit, clearly now sensing something amiss. Luke couldn't help but think about how bloody sharp Din was- he was incredibly perceptive. Luke didn't know how he used to think he could get his Jedi secret past him.  

"You're leaving." Din commented dryly, and Luke felt the nervous energy that had filled him up like a hot air balloon at the idea of telling Din deflate. Din didn't seem too upset about it. 

"I am." Luke sighed. "My sister told my family I'd be back in three weeks to get plasma coils and supplies, and... today's around three weeks since then." Luke finally stated. 

Luke could see the hints of pinkish blood red hurt seep into Din's aura- as clear as day. Luke's hackles went up at it; and he scrambled for something to say that might tell Din that Luke wasn't quite leaving of his own accord. Not really. 

"Alright. Do you have everything?" Din asked, seeming more blunt and distant all of a sudden. Luke could feel Din snapping shut like a clam moment by moment, and his chest responded with a pang of panic. Din turned to scan the room for things Luke might have left behind- Luke felt his throat tighten. 

"Wait, Din-" Luke found himself saying. Din spun around to face him, clearly upset now. Luke felt his chest ache as he dug through his pockets, feeling around for the keychain he knew he would find there. 

"What?" Din asked, glancing up and down between the keychain in Luke's hand and his face. "What are you do-"

Luke felt strangely frantic as he tried to get the key off of the Tatooine keychain he was struggling with. When he did, he pocketed the key, palming the keychain in his hand. 

The keychain was pretty nondescript. Obi Wan had bought it once when he had visited, and so had donated the touristy keychain to Luke in order to help keep track of the speeder keys for the Mechanical Assistance speeder. 

Luke held the keychain out to Din, the picture cut out facing up. There was a printed painting of a Bantha and the words 'Visit Tatooine' in blocky, bold letters in beige outlining the Bantha. 

"Here." Luke pressed the keychain into Din's gloved hand earnestly, feeling strangely flushed and out of breath. "Take care of it for me." 

"Huh?" Din asked, clearly confused what Luke was getting at. 

Luke smiled a small, tentative, smile. "If I give it to you for safe keeping, then I've got to come back for it." 

Realisation dawned on Din after Luke said that. He seemed to realise what Luke was trying to do- what the keychain meant. A promise to return. 

"Alright." Din fidgeted with the keychain before pocketing it with a little hesitation. 

They fell into silence for a moment; mulling over the newfound warmth. 

Din turned to his dresser, opening the drawer. He took the lightsaber out and offered it to Luke calmly; his aura tinted a rose pink. "Here." 

Luke reached out for the saber, fingertips brushing the hilt before hesitating. "Are you sure?" he asked quietly, giving Din a meaningful look. He knew that this was about more than just returning his saber to him. 

"Yeah." Din replied gently, his voice slightly hoarse as he looked Luke in the eye. "I trust you, Luke." 

Luke felt his smile spread over his face slowly- the smile crept up on him like a sunrise. He gripped the saber in Din's hand, and Din let go. 

"You'll need it anyway." Din added as Luke turned away to shove the hilt, tip down, into his spacious boot. "How are you going to get back? You'll need a speeder." 

"I was just going to walk." Luke shrugged. "It might take the rest of the day, but it works. The compound isn't that far."

Din fixed him with a dumbfounded stare. "You were going to walk?? You realise how hot it is outside?"

"I'm from Tatooine ! It's not that bad- probably a walk in the park for me." Luke remarked, enjoying the incredulity that rose in Din's aura. 

"No." Din put bluntly, walking off and leaving. 

"No????" Luke chased after him, feeling incredulous himself. "What do you mean, no? You can't stop me from walking if I want to Force-damn walk, Djarin." Luke had to lengthen his stride to try keep up. 

"Because I said no." Din replied obstinately. Luke followed after him; feeling distinctly confused and patronised. He could feel his lightsaber rattle comfortingly in his boot. "You'll get heatstroke." 

Din led him to the speeder bay, and that was when Luke realised he was going to lend Luke a speeder. 'Din it's fine- your people would notice if a speeder went missing and you know it would be weird if I showed up in a Mandalorian speeder-' 

Luke felt frustrated as he signed in Tusken as they walked past the Quartermaster (who was asleep at her desk), struggling to understand what Din was up to here. Din was determinedly pretending he didn't understand Tusken as he marched on into the speeder bay. 

They stopped in front of a speeder that looked suspiciously familiar. 

'We have a couple speeders that we stole from the Jedi for various reasons. I'm sure no one would notice if it disappeared- people borrow it all the time for surveillance.' Din commented, and Luke circled the nondescript beige speeder. He crouched at the midsection, looking under the belly of the speeder and scanning for the Jedi Order symbol. The small Jedi symbol was there, as clear as day. 

'So that's where Ahsoka and Leia's speeder went.' Luke mused amusedly, glancing up at Din.

Din gave him a sheepish look and shrugged. 'Well it wasn't me who took it. Some of the clans get light fingered from time to time.' 

"Right." Luke smirked, standing up straight. 'Any idea where I can find plasma coils with such short notice?' 

'Plasma coils? Yeah we have a few.' Din nodded thoughtfully. 'Over there.' Din pointed across the bay. 

'You sure I could grab a couple?' Luke asked, waving a hand in that direction. A couple came floating over in the empty speeder bay, settling themselves on Luke's borrowed speeder. 

'Yeah. No one really pays attention to them- we get shipments monthly.' Din shrugged. Luke rewarded him with a gentle smile in his direction. 

Din waited patiently in comfortable silence as Luke checked the speeder for traps, turning it on. 

Luke turned back to Din after he was done, and what he wasn't expecting was for Din to press some credits into his hand. 

"Din, I don't-" 

"I know. Just..." Din huffed with frustration. "I don't want you to get in trouble."

Luke pushed his hand cupping the credits towards Din. "Are you sure? You don't have to. The coils are enough." 

"I want to." Din gentled, releasing the credits into Luke's hand. He pushed Luke's hand back towards Luke. "Besides, how else could you afford a sun hat otherwise, tramp?" 

"Hey!" Luke replied incredulously, playfully affronted. Din rolled his eyes at Luke's antics, and the moment died with that. 

Luke mulled on the silence between them, feeling homely and warm and at peace in a way he hadn't thought possible with a Mandalorian three weeks ago.  

"Hey, uh..." Din suddenly seemed impossibly shy- his aura once again tinted with a rosy pink that complimented the sunrise beyond the open speeder hangar. "Do you, by any chance, have a holocomm number?" 

Luke felt himself flush pink with a blush he prayed to the Force wasn't too visible. "My my, Din Djarin, how very forward of you." 

Din chuckled, and Luke felt his chest warm with endearment. "Do you have a pen?" Luke asked.

There was some pocket digging before Din presented Luke with a marker with a quizzical aura, and Luke grinned. 

And then tugged Din's left hand glove off, uncapping the marker. If Luke wasn't flushed embarrassingly scarlet about it already, he was now as he scrawled his number across Din's bare hand in marker. He capped the marker with a loud tik! . Luke was unsure why taking Din's glove off felt akin to undressing him in public, but he brushed the feeling off. Din would've skewered him if he was uncomfortable with it. 

"There you go, Prince of Mandalore. Call me sometime." Luke teased with a wink, still grinning.

"Ok then, mesh'la." Luke could hear the smile in Din's voice.

"Hey! No need to be rude." Luke pouted. He reached for Din's ungloved hand, trying to rub the number away. "If you're going to be rude then you don't need this-"

Din, being taller than Luke, just raised his arm up above the pair of them. Luke jumped to try reach it and ended up just being forcibly reminded that he was short. "You gave it to me already. No takesy backsies." 

Luke pouted, looking annoyed, but the effect was ruined by the way his lips were turned up at the corners. 

"No booty calls." he joked, knowing the effect it would have on Din. The man was achingly transparent. Luke walked towards to the speeder, hopping in.

He could swear he heard Din choke on air audibly, but he wouldn't put money on it. 

Chapter Text

Arc 2: 

Fusion and Fission

It was early morning when Luke got back, but he didn’t feel quite ready to face anyone yet as the familiar beige and grey walls of the fabricated military base came into view. Luke practically dumped his speeder outside his window, using the Force to crank his window open from the inside. He shrugged his boots off, perching on the windowsill with his legs dangling over the sand, and jumped over the desk stationed at his window to sneak into his room. 

Luke's room at the compound wasn't what the Jedi of the compound would call a typical room in a lot of respects. For starters, Luke was supposed to be rooming with his father, but after a few pretty intense fights over tinkering supply territory and what-not, his grandpa offered his father his living room as a place for Anakin to stay instead. Anakin and Luke just had too similar of hobbies to reconcile the space they had to use for them.

Anakin took up Obi Wan’s offer on the condition that the bed space that Anakin used to inhabit in their shared room had to be converted into a shared workspace between the father and son duo. 

After that, Luke and his father didn’t fight over desk space in quite a while.

So Anakin's bed had been transformed into a worktop for their various projects. It had tools hanging on hooks on the right hand wall the bed frame was fabricated into, and had various nuts and bolts strewn across it. Given how messy the worktop was, Luke guessed Anakin had been in the room working on something while he was gone. 

On the left hand side of the room, across from Anakin's old bed-turned-workshop, was Luke's bed. It was a pretty basic single bed, aside from the weird pastel green leaf or grass-looking plushie his mother had bought for him one day when she had returned from the Senate. The bed was oval shaped and also fabricated into the wall, but what mattered was that it was comfortable. Luke had missed his bed. The mattress from Din's room was comfortable, but not quite as comfortable as his actual bed. 

Crowded up against the window opposite the door was a desk that filled the alcove that the window created. The room was vaguely ovular; an architectural style indicative of the fabrication that had been used to build the compound, as well as common Coruscanti architecture.

The desk in the alcove created by the apex of the oval was pretty basic in itself- it stretched and filled the window alcove entirely, but built into it was a data station like the ones from the archives back in the Great Temple on Coruscant.

 Luke and his father had worked together to install it back when Luke had arrived (at his father's insistence). Luke had been wary about installing a private computer, as it was very against the rules and they already had broken so many keeping the family together, but had worked to help install it anyway as an excuse to do some more wiring.

In the end the data station had turned out very useful in Luke and Leia's studies, and the rest of the family used it often too. Obi Wan had been in to use it on multiple occasions when he wanted to look something up discreetly. 

Luke had a couple cacti on the desk that he'd smuggled in from the market to spice the desk up a little. They didn't require much water, so they were good to have. His mother had also brought a rug back from the core, and the white fluffy thing sat between the beds, dirtier than it had been the last time Luke was home. Luke realised he might need to wash it before his dad had the chance to spill more grease and oil onto it than there already was. He felt kind of silly for having put it near the grease prone workstation, but it was nice to stand on after having just woken up.

Something felt different about the familiar room, however, beyond the disturbed worktop. Luke couldn't put his finger on it, but he could swear something had changed.

The room was generally the same as he had left it, though. 

Luke set his boots down near the door, gingerly placing his lightsaber on the desk near the open window. He closed the window against the dry desert heat and adjusted the temperature control before collapsing onto his bed.

He was so, so tired. Luke couldn't figure out whether the tiredness was because of something else entirely, or from the trip back home. 

Regardless, Luke fell asleep sprawled out all over his bed- comfortable in the dessert heat as the AC just started to blast cooler air. His last comprehensible thought was spared for washing the sand out of his sheets later. 

Din spent the first fully free morning he had to take time off with his ad'ika. He'd brought his ad into his room after Erin had grumbled at him for playing with him when she was trying to sleep.

For reasons Din couldn't fathom, his ad was drawn to the mattress Luke had been sleeping on for the last few weeks. Din had picked him up and placed him in other parts of the room, but all he would do is crawl over to Luke's mattress. No matter what Din did to try coax him over to his own bed, his ad'ika stubbornly stayed put. 

"Alright, adiik. Be that way." Din grumbled, settling down onto his own bed. His ad blew a raspberry at him with the air of someone who had won.

"I really need to keep him away from Erin." Din grumbled under his breath, grasping his holocomm from where it sat on his bedside table and turning it on. 

He'd saved Luke's contact on his comm already; he'd done it right after Luke had zipped off in that stolen Jedi speeder (that he was technically stealing back). While Din had felt embarrassingly juvenile for how over-eager it seemed to save his number so quickly, he hadn't wanted to get the number rubbed off beyond comprehension after he put his glove back on. 

Din stared at the contact, heart skipping a beat at the profile picture from the holonet that had popped up when he'd keyed in the number, willing himself to text Luke something. Anything. 

His ad cooed at him- Din looked up. "What?"

An annoyed noise. His ad looked between the mattress and Din, head bobbing as if he was trying to say something. Din furrowed his brow. 

"Luke's not here right now." Din stated dumbly. Perhaps he was missing something. 

His ad made a frustrated noise that sounded suspiciously like a growl. 

"Don't you give me that tone." Din sighed despite already being resigned to it, wagging his finger at his ad admonishingly and glancing back at the holonet page he had open. Luke's grinning face stared back at him. 

Din should probably text Luke. But what? Hey just sounded lame, and everything else he thought up to say sounded just as bad. He stared at the blinking line in the chat box with a sense of dread and a racing heart. 

How did you text the cute enemy Jedi boy who flirted with you and sparred with you and made you feel like a ship rattling through hyperspace at millions of lightyears a minute? And if you screw it up he might literally skewer you on his lightsaber and continue a war? 

His ad had the audacity to huff at him like he was the idiot. 

Din turned his holocomm off. 

Luke woke up to the sound of a high pitched, rhythmic beeping. 

"The kriffing kark?" Luke mumbled, yawning and opening his bleary eyes. He turned and wriggled in the swaddled blankets towards the direction the beeping was coming from with the distinct niggling feeling that it wasn’t the sound of an alarm clock.

More beeping. It took a few moments of blinking and rubbing through the sleep in his eyes to recognise the blue and white astromech. 

"R2?" Luke questioned, surprised. Luke yawned again and tried to force his brain into returning to the world of cognition. 

After a few moments of beeping, Luke recognised the binary word for 'farrick' being used colourfully multiple times. Finally, Luke's brain started to make sense of the binary. 

'Wake up you lazy shit, your dad wants to talk to you.' R2 seemed to be saying. 

Luke groaned, turning over and trying to burrow back into his sheets.

R2 was the only one in the family with the balls to baldly call Anakin Luke and Leia's father out loud, but part of that had to do with the fact that Jedi generally liked to ignore droids for the most part. They usually only made an effort to understand binary if a droid was speaking directly to them. 

"Tell him that he's waited three weeks and that he can wait ten more farricking minutes." Luke grumbled, pulling a sheet back over him.

The sheet was suddenly ripped away from him, and Luke was left on the bed without blankets. Luke could hear the tik tik tik sound of the sand raining from the blankets onto the floor. 

"R2!!!!!" Luke yelled, now annoyed. R2 was escaping with Luke's blanket in his claw, laughing with what passed for maniacal glee for droids. 

R2 stopped at the door, eyeing the sand that had spread all over the floor with the removal of the blanket. 

'Also clean the sand up, it's getting in my wheels.' R2 added.  

"I'll karking add more." Luke growled, gripping the stretched out blanket and tugging it away from the droid’s claw before he could run off with it entirely. 

'No need to make more of a mess, Skywalker.' R2 patronised with a sense of attitude, and as much as Luke loved that droid he was also just about ready to strip it for parts. 

R2 had the good sense to leave before Luke decided on whether or not to commit mechanical homicide. The doors marked his leaving with a shhk ! 

Luke gathered the blankets and sheets up, but balled them up and tossed them into the laundry basket instead of putting them back onto the bed. He would need to wash them anyway.

The silence chased him around tauntingly as he went through his wardrobe, settling on casual grey pants and a tank top. Luke couldn't help but look behind him habitually, as if waiting for some sort of remark, before finding the room empty. 

Luke's mood soured, a wound stinging, but he took slight solace in the comfort of having his lightsaber hanging at his side on his belt once again. It was nice to not have to worry about it. He could pretend there wasn't a ball of something black and jagged and sharp in the pit of his stomach. 

The room around him seemed strange. He couldn't shake off the feeling that something was different. Why did the grey tones of the fabricated walls seem less warm all of a sudden? 

Even more-so, Luke felt like something was missing from his left pocket. It was suspiciously light. He hesitated on the way out. 

Din spent the rest of the day on a scouting mission the Alor put him on. He hadn't been able to stop thinking about the number scrawled onto his hand. Din had almost slipped up multiple times during the mission; distracted by the memory of Luke gently tugging his glove off, uncapping the marker. The skin against skin of Luke holding Din's hand steady with his free hand as he scrunched his face up in concentration, slightly pink as he did. The feel of the marker as it slid against skin.

He'd told Luke to wear a hat before and he hadn't listened. Now Din was wondering if Luke had sunburned cheeks. He should probably recommend something to help with it? 

Gods, he was hopeless. Din thought to himself, shaking the thought of with an embarrassed flush. 

It was only after he had returned, showered, given his report, and fed his ad'ika that he realized he should probably set up a secure channel if he were to text Luke. 

Given the nature of his friendship with Luke, he knew that it would be disastrous if people found out they were both fraternising with the enemy. If this whole Jedi-Mando peace was to work out, and Din knew Luke was going to be instrumental in securing that peace, they needed to keep whatever it was they had between them to theirselves. 

"Alor?" Din tentatively called out after he had made his way to the Armoury. Something inky and sticky clawed at this stomach, strengthening it's chokehold the closer he got. He couldn't help but remember that the Alor could get suspicious about his request, despite knowing in his heart that the Alor was the best person to ask for this sort off under the table thing. While they were in the military now out of civic duty to the Alor, the tribe had done all sorts of shady deals before they got tied up into politics. Din knew the Alor had some tricks up her sleeve.

She'd also take whatever secrets he told her to her grave and beyond, and Din would do the same for her. Din hoped that would stand up under the pressure of Din sneaking around with a Jedi behind her back.

"Yeah?" The Alor replied, coming out from the back room. She'd probably been in there scrolling through an armour inspiration feed, as he'd often caught her doing. 

The Alor took in Din's stance; clutching his holocomm with apprehension, standing shiftily. She let him stew for a few moments as she took it in. 

"Well? Out with it then." The Alor demanded, a fond tone to her voice. "When you're the Manda'lor all day you won't have." 

Din wanted to grumble about how he wouldn't be on the way to being Manda'lor if she hadn't chosen him as cabur, but that would've just tried her patience. He'd had that argument with her many times already- so far she'd always stood firmly by her decision.  

"I need to set up a secure channel so I can talk to some anti-Kryze supporters without Bo-Katan hearing about it. Could you help me set that up?" Din admitted, and the Alor eyed him with interest. They both knew very well that Bo-Katan was slippery and unpredictable, and it was better safe than sorry most times. It was a reasonable request. Still, Din held his breath- praying to the Gods and the Way that she wouldn't pry, wouldn't question it. 

"Sure." The Alor shrugged after a few torturous seconds, holding her hand out for Din's holocomm. Din passed it to her, heart slowing in his chest where it had been thudding  against his ribcage a moment ago. He felt lightheaded with relief, thanking the Way he hadn't texted Luke yet and risked the Alor seeing their messages. 

The Alor typed some code in, opened various programs and such as silence fell upon them while she worked. Din squirmed, feeling uncomfortable with the intrusion but also trusting that his buir wouldn't maliciously invade his privacy. He looked to the unlit casting hearth for strength, and found it in the knowledge that he wasn’t the first to have to bear this sort of responsibility.

After a few moments, Din was passed back his holocomm with a channel open. He just had to key in the contacts he wished to connect to the chat.

The Alor patted Din on the shoulder warmly, and Din couldn't help but smile. All of a sudden, he felt silly for having been worried. 

"Thanks buir." Din said softly. The Alor cuffed him in the shoulder playfully. 

"What did I tell you about calling me that-" The Alor started to chastise, but Din pretended not to hear. 

"Bye buir!! See you in the morning!!" Din called out as he rushed out, cutting her off. Din could hear a distinctively fond huff behind him as the door closed. 

It took a moment, but Luke realised he had lost track of his holocomm. It usually sat in his left hand side pant pocket, but since Luke's return had hadn't bothered to go looking for it. He'd forgotten all about it, actually. 

As the penny dropped, a sudden sense of dismay flooded his senses. The realisation crashed down upon him that Din was supposed to text him and Luke didn't even know where his comm was. 

"Farrick." Luke cursed under his breath as he rushed to the closet, looking through various pockets of various pants hanging inside. He scanned the desk to see if he had left it there, but it wasn't there either.  It was hard to recall. He’d been away for three kriffing weeks, after all.

Luke scoured and tore through his room, checking everywhere he could think of, before slumping onto his desk chair- giving up. 

It was then that he spotted the book bag that hung next to his door, and it occurred to him that he had probably left it in there. 

And, lo and behold, there it was. 

Luke palmed the holocomm, turning it on and being met with multitudes of messages from various Jedi chats that he had missed through the three weeks of being away. 

And yet, no message from Din. 

Why hadn't Din texted him yet?

Luke felt his stomach twist as if it was trying to consume itself.

And, more importantly: Why did it matter? Din was probably busy talking to Erin or drawing up battle plans to text the random Jedi boy he had accidentally kidnapped. 

But Luke couldn't get over the fact that he had slept through the day right up till the afternoon with still nothing from Din. Did Luke really mean that little to him? After everything they'd gone through together? After how vulnerable Luke had become with him? 

Luke sighed, trying to brush it off. He still needed to unload the supplies he had brought back from the village into the warehouse. He knew he needed to go see his dad, and give Leia a grovelling apology so grovelling he'd be haunted by it into next week, but... 

He thought of Din. Something about the memory of Din ringed in the glow-y silver reflection of the starlight as they sat on the rooftop together felt delicate; like if he brought it too close to the Jedi it might burn up like flash paper. The memory disappearing into ash under the lonely expectations of the Jedi.   

Somehow, there was something sacred about Din that Luke couldn't quite puzzle out just yet. 

Luke snuck back out of his window and hopped onto his stolen speeder, making his way to the warehouse. 

The warehouse was empty at this time of day; it was mid-afternoon and everyone was busy. It was just Luke and the supplies that sat in towering stacks surrounding him. 

Luke had many things to think about. Jedi duties, the assigned homework that Obi Wan had set him that he hadn't touched, what he was going to tell Leia, inquiring on if his mother was currently back on Coruscant, and on and on. He tried to focus on the straining of his muscles as he moved the supplies he had bought to their assigned and labelled sections of the warehouse. But it took too little brain power to completely occupy Luke’s thoughts, and things slipped through the cracks.

Why hadn't Din texted him yet?

Luke floated the box of Jogan fruit to the top of the stack of fruit supplies.

Why hadn't Din texted him yet? 

Luke struggled with three crates of rice to join the group of in-demand carbohydrate stock. 

Why hadn't Din texted him yet?

The plasma coils rolled off the speeder when Luke tried to get the med-pack stack off. Luke called on the Force to guide them back onto the end of the speeder. 

Why hadn't Din texted him-

"Luke?! Is that you?" A surprised masculine voice called. Luke recognised the cadence of it as belonging to one Ezra Bridger. 

"Yeah." Luke sighed, pausing in the menial work of stocking supplies. 

"I didn't know you were back. I didn't sense you." Ezra commented, leaning on some nearby crates as he came closer- the light above Luke's head illuminated Ezra in his long blue haired, non-chalant, rebel glory. His Force signature glowed a strong navy blue and Luke could sense the familiar tinge of strong emotional intuition in the Force as Luke resisted Ezra’s Force-aided charm.

"I took a nap." Luke shrugged. Ezra seemed to scan him and accept Luke's answer as Luke turned back to his self-inflicted stocking job. 

"Need some help?" Ezra asked, righting himself. His long hair getting in his face momentarily, his padawan braid swayed with the rest of his hair. 

"If you're offering." Luke smirked, allowing Ezra to approach the speeder and gather a stack of med-packs into his arms. 

"I wouldn't have asked if I wasn't offering, Naberrie." Ezra snorted, shovelling the of med-packs onto the pile of other medical supplies. 

"Sure." Luke rolled his eyes. 

Ezra Bridger was sort of like a cousin to Luke, although he'd never admit it considering Ezra was the great-grandpadawan of Mace Windu. Ezra was from Lothal, and had joined the Order at around the same time Luke had. Ezra's parents had delayed his entry into the Order until they couldn't protect him anymore, and even then Ezra had snuck off on multiple occasions to visit them in his childhood. Ezra and Luke were the same age, both had joined the Order later than they should have joined, and they bothhad a streak for defying the council. They were bound to have ended up as friends. 

Lothal fell to Seperatist rule at the tail-end of their youngling years, and Ezra's parents had been risking their lives for the local group of anti-separatist insurgents long before that. They used to hijack Lothal holonet announcements to speak out against the Seperatists and get the word out about the local rebellion. Luke could vividly remember watching as Ezra tuned into the illegal news report his parents organized after training every week. 

"How's Caleb?" Luke inquired. He hadn't caught up with Ezra in a while, even before he had disappeared off on an accidental trip into the Mandalorian military. Ezra had been on a council assigned, classified, mission with his Master on the other side of Mandalore. 

"He's alright." Ezra shrugged, helping him stock the plasma coils. "Same as always. He's waiting until the next shift rotation to get into contact with Hera." 

Luke smiled, feeling warm at the mention of the familiar ex-smuggler Republic pilot. Hera Syndulla was Caleb's secret girlfriend. They had met while Caleb was leading a strike team on Lothal, and she had volunteered to fly for the mission. She had a history with the insurgence against the Seperatists on Ryloth, considering the leader was her father, and had spent some time smuggling before signing up to fly delivering relief aid for the Republic. 

While most Republic pilots were clone trooper pilots, the Republic couldn’t deny Hera’s talent for flight. Nor her clear passion for helping people; so she got signed on. She not only survived but thrived flying emergency supplies in through active battlefields.

The woman had a motherly side to her that Ezra had found comfort in after his parents were executed for treason. Luke was grateful to her for helping Ezra despite never having met her, and he could clearly see the depth of feeling between Caleb and Hera. He found it sweet how deeply they cared for each other, and Luke would do anything to help protect that relationship the same way he would for any of his family. 

"She still nagging you about the possibility of breaking up an underground crime syndicate while you're here?" Luke chuckled. Hera had a tendency to encourage Caleb and Ezra to sneak off to help the local populace where they could.

"Hera? Nah. Caleb has been hinting at it. I don't quite think he understands that we're still in a war with the Mandalorians." Ezra huffed, righting himself. 

Luke chuckled. Ezra was right. While they could try their best to help, they really needed to prioritize the literal war they were enduring.

The pair of them stood back to admire their handiwork. The speeder was empty and the warehouse a little better stocked now. 

Ezra spotted Luke’s extra purchase next to the steering wheel of the speeder. "What's this?" 

Luke slumped, resigned. "A hat." 

Ezra picked the simple beige bucket hat up, spinning it on his fingertips. "Going soft now are we?" he teased. Luke harrumphed, snatching it back.

"Just trying to not catch a sunburn." Luke retorted defeatedly. He already knew Ezra was not going to let go of it for the next one hundred years. 

"What happened to the whole 'I'm Luke Naberrie, I'm 100% sun-proof because I grew up on Tatooine and are therefore superior to you' thing?" Ezra mocked with a horrible falsetto that sounded nothing like him. 

"I got worried about my skin, Ezra." Luke rolled his eyes, lying about his reasoning slightly. "Thing called skincare is a thing nowadays, ever heard of it?" 

Ezra blew a raspberry at him (or what Luke should probably call a blueberry considering Ezra's blue hair), and Luke pulled a face back. 

"Thanks for the help." Luke grumbled, hopping casually back into his speeder. 

Ezra rolled his eyes with a small smile. 

"You taking that back to the bay, or?" 

 Luke perused the speeder, thinking about it. If he returned the speeder then he would need to have it registered into the system. Having a speeder not registered onto the Jedi system could be an asset for sneaking out purposes.

Which was often, if Luke was honest. But usually they were back by morning. It was 'No harm no foul' in Luke's opinion. 

"Not sure yet." Luke replied nonchalantly, a mischievous smile finding it's way onto his face. Ezra met his eyes with intrigue. 

"Mhm." Ezra smirked knowingly. "Let me know what happens with it then." 

Ezra turned and left; seeming happy with his mischief for the day. He left orange charisma in his wake.

A vibration in Luke's pocket caught his attention. He checked it. 

Still nothing; it was just a meme Ahsoka had sent him about dual wielding lightsabers being superior to single-wielding. 

Why hadn't Din texted him yet?

Luke went to the mess hall early, grabbing something to eat and skipping out. 

He wasn't avoiding his family, per-say, just... Luke didn't quite want to deal with them yet. He still had to figure out what grovelling apology and excuse he was going to give Leia for having to cover for him. 

The dinner the mess hall had been serving had just been rice with chicken and vegetables. It was good, but after three weeks of spice it felt a little underwhelming. 

Halfway through dinner, his holocomm dinged yet again.

32788423 - online now 🟢

hey 

guess who 

chancellor palpatine

no 

ew

your favourite mandalorian :) 

how do u know

my favourite Mando could be Erin or Espí

or Paz for all you kno 

that was a low blow :(

😌

32788423 is typing. . . 

Luke saved the number into his contacts, rolling his eyes. 

favourite mando - online now 🟢

considering the fact that Erin and Espí and Paz don't have your number

I'm fairly certain of my status 

how do u kno they dont tho 👀

:(

😑

oh 

hahahah good one

anyway how are things now u don't have urs truly to whoop ur ass with a lightsaber

boring really

come back

Luke is typing. . . 

Luke couldn't stop himself from smiling at the request. He'd been stupid earlier to question Din's loyalty.

will consider it

oh farrick you 

🧐

how come it took so long for you to text, oh king of mandalore?

was setting up a secure channel :)

ohhhh

din is typing. . . 

No other reason, then. Luke thought to himself, somehow disappointed.

I've got some things to take care of

but 

talk later

yeah?

yeah  😌

good :)

read at 7.30 pm

The memory of Din solidified once more. 

Chapter Text

“Rise and shine, Grandpa!” Luke sing-songed as he barged into Obi Wan’s room in the late morning, uncaring of whether his father was asleep in the living room or not. Obi Wan felt his irritation rise. It was too early for this .

“You realize that I’m not that much older than Anakin, right?” Obi Wan sighed with his normal retort back to Luke’s nickname for him, stepping out of his bedroom. His bedroom door closed behind him with a shhk!

Luke just gave him a smug look as he removed his shoes before fully entering the room, and Obi Wan knew in his heart he couldn’t admonish Luke for calling him grandpa. He may be in denial about being a paternal figure to both Anakin and Luke, but he wasn’t going to deny Luke of something that clearly brought him joy.

The councilmember’s loungeroom that Obi Wan resided in was ovular shaped, like the rest of the Jedi compound rooms. It had a kitchenette for basic amenities, but Obi Wan had adjusted it to try and cook actual meals. It meant that they could have family dinners together and take a break from the mess hall food at least once a month, and Obi Wan didn’t regret a second of researching kitchenette hacks to make it work.

Anakin’s section of the loungeroom shrunk the spacious lounge by a bit; the space was divided using a beige privacy screen which separated his space from the lounge space. Luke peeked around the screen with vague worry and saw his bed empty. He seemed to relax minutely.

“ Sure , Master.” Luke said with a generous heaping of sarcasm as he approached the tea table. Obi Wan’s eyes flickered to him with dry contempt, but he didn’t comment further on the matter; he was used to the Skywalker antics.

Obi Wan drew a steadying breath, clearly centring himself. Luke’s bright green Force signature made it easier to calm himself; there was something of Padmé’s connection with nature in it that Anakin lacked. The light green glow that followed Luke around flickering with mischief because of Luke’s sarcasm.

“Tea?” his Obi Wan asked his grandson, walking towards him. With a passing gust of the Force, the kettle turned on of its own accord. 

“Of course.” Luke smiled graciously, sitting cross-legged at the low tea table as Obi Wan dug out his tea supplies from a nearby cupboard, the clinking of ceramics filling the air.

“What variety are we going for today?” Luke asked politely, looking up at him.

Obi Wan used to ask Luke this question, before Luke decided it was probably better for Obi Wan to pick the tea, being the tea expert and everything.

“Jasmine green tea.” Obi Wan smiled, as he often did. It was Obi Wan’s favourite type of tea, and so Obi Wan often insisted upon having the tea every time Luke came around for lessons while they discussed their agenda.

One thing that the Jedi tended to overlook was the spiritually healing properties of tea- tea could refocus one’s mind back onto the Force. A form of meditation without meditating.

Obi Wan’s grandson grinned back at him before moving to rearrange the tea materials that Obi Wan was placing onto the tea table; one by one.

Most times Luke came over, he would try to convince Obi Wan to leave the tea-ware on the table so that he could come back to it in the morning. But Obi Wan’s main reason for putting it away was because he didn’t want to tempt fate and have Anakin smash it by accident.

Luke shifted the lidded cup to the centre of the table, the white porcelain shining in the light, pushing Obi Wan’s clay lothcat teapet to the right towards the edge of the table. Then, Obi Wan set a small, black, clay teapot down, and finally two palm sized handleless teacups.

Lastly, Obi Wan placed the loose-leaf tea down in a labelled tin on the tea table with a flourish. Following their usual routine, Luke opened the box and scooped some tea into the lidded cup as Obi Wan went to collect the just boiled kettle.

Obi Wan settled down cross-legged at the table, the kettle in one hand and the lid open to cool the hot water a little.

“So…” Obi Wan started after returning from rinsing the tea in the lidded cup at the sink. The green tea leaves within it shining- now damp. “How was your supply run?”

Luke pondered the question, palming his chin. It was a tic he picked up from Anakin, and Obi Wan had been dealing with the Skywalker lineage’s shit long enough to know that Luke was going to leave key details out in his answer.

“Alright. Uneventful, I suppose.” Luke shrugged. Obi Wan poured hot water onto the wet tea leaves in the lidded cup, giving the lidded cup a few gentle swirls and waiting patiently- hoping to get Luke to reveal more with uncomfortable silence to fill.

Obi Wan eyed him doubtfully, scanning him. There was something changed about his appearance. Perhaps it was the way Luke was holding himself- shoulders a little straighter and eye contact held longer. Or perhaps it was the fact that Luke was more tanned than he had been before he left, or Luke looked more built than he had been before.

“You look… different.” Obi Wan commented dryly, eyes lingering dubiously on Luke’s arms and face. Luke looks down at his own body with surprise.

“Really?” Luke replied, seeming surprised himself. “It must be the suntan. The villages can get really sunny.”

Obi Wan was still suspicious, eyeing him with an analytical eye.

What could Luke have possibly been doing that had led to this difference? Obi Wan felt frustrated confusion wreak his brain like static electricity.

He dropped the subject. Obi Wan didn’t have any solid evidence for his suspicions. 

“Quite.”

They lapse into slightly tense silence as Obi Wan poured the tea from the lidded cup into the teapot, splashing some of the freshly sieved tea from the pot onto his clay teapet before pouring the tea out for Luke and then himself. The pleasantly scented faint yellow tea clung to the clay and dripped into the bowl beneath. The lothcat figurine looked brighter.

“You missed the kata practice units I had planned for you. You’ll need to work a little harder to catch up if you want to keep up with Ezra.” Obi Wan states airily before carefully taking a sip from his cup.

Luke gulped, his cup hand stilling on it’s way to his own mouth as if he’d forgotten all about his training.

“I am also hoping to begin more of your training on the battlefield, Luke. In order to become a Knight you’ll need to do more than mechanical assistance, I’m afraid.” Obi Wan sighed, humming a little as he shot an appreciative glance at the tea in his cup as he often did.

Luke seemed to shake off his surprise, taking a sip of his tea.

“Of course, Master.” Luke replied respectfully.

Obi Wan took in a steadying breath, sitting up straighter.

“On a brighter note, Padmé is returning in a week.” Obi Wan smiled, happy to be the bearer of good news.

“Is that why Anakin keeps sending R2 after me?” Luke joked.

“Probably.” Obi Wan chuckled. “But you know better than anyone how to deal with him.”

“He stole my sheets yesterday. It wasn’t fun.” Luke grumbled.

Obi Wan laughed at him, unable to help it. Anakin’s droid did have a personality of their own, and because they were a droid- R2 got away with being a bastard when they felt like it.

He had to admit that the image of Luke shouting threats of bodily harm and running after his father’s blue R2 unit as it steam rolled down the hallway at top speed, bedsheets in claw was incredibly titillating.

“It’s not funny!! R2 said I was a lazy shit !!” Luke protested, and Obi Wan laughed harder.

“R2 is entitled to their own opinion, my dear Padawan.” Obi Wan chuckled sagely, sipping on his tea. Luke pouted.

“I’m not kriffing lazy … I was just tired after hauling supplies.” Luke sighed, a weary look on his face.

The conversation lulled as they focused on their tea.

Obi Wan sighed, reminded of the times when he would settle down for tea with a young Anakin- his padawan as witty as ever. He watched Luke with weary fondness in his eyes. “You know… sometimes you’re just like him.”

Luke snorted. “Thanks Obi Wan. Much appreciated .”

“I’m serious.” Obi Wan met his sarcasm with sincerity. “You have his youthful nature. While you inherited some of his recklessness as well…”

Luke raised his eyebrows at the sudden assessment of his character.

“Somehow that’s tempered by Padmé, I think. I’d never thought I’d see the day.” Obi Wan mused.

Luke turned back to his cooling tea with a fond laugh that ended as soon as it began. “I suppose miracles do happen, then.”

When Luke was young, Obi Wan had taught Leia and him how tea was traditionally consumed. He had been adamant that the twins learnt this skill, even though Anakin and Ahsoka had rolled their eyes about it.

Obi Wan had forcibly taught them how it worked as well back in their training days, but they had only learnt out of respect for Obi Wan and his unique ways of connecting to and meditating on the Force. The pair who carried on Obi Wan’s lineage weren’t big tea drinkers; Anakin preferred strong caf and Ahsoka was more into fruity bubble tea than traditional tea. But they had both learnt to appreciate, through Obi Wan, the meditative qualities of the tea ceremony.

Besides; Padmé often had tea with Obi Wan- so Anakin felt a little better when he understood the ceremonial aspect to the way they drank tea together as they discussed politics and the attitudes of the Council. Padmé would often inquire about Luke’s training, as well as look for tidbits of gossip from around the Jedi compound (because even Jedi weren’t entirely immune to idle rumour to pass the time), and Padmé would offer Obi Wan some senatorial gossip. Anakin often had to leave the room during these meetings, considering the increasing amount of Palpatine shit talking the pair engaged in.

Obi Wan was also known to have tea with his clone commander, Cody, back when Obi Wan still commanded the 212th squadron in the Clone Wars. Anakin had walked in on the pair drinking tea in a variety of ways- sometimes the traditional way, sometimes just simple mugs of tea. Obi Wan often missed the days he spent with Cody just being on the Negotiator as they travelled through hyperspace, with nothing being expected of him for a couple hours. He wondered how Cody was doing, now that the Jedi had pulled out of the Clone Wars to fight a different one.

The point was that tea was important to Obi Wan. Central to his peace of mind- it wasn’t just a drink to him, but a meditative process that helped him reconnect with the Force after periods of distraction. He only shared it with people who he deemed important to him, and Luke (and Leia) had been honoured to be included in his grandfather’s tea circle from a young age.

“Uncle Obi; why do you make the tea in a different pot? Why can’t you make it in only one? Isn’t it easier?” Leia inquired, sitting cross-legged in front of the spread out tea set- Luke sitting comfortably to her left.

They were sitting in the garden in the Great Temple on Coruscant. Cherry blossom-eqsue trees from a different planet lined the walls, and various Jedi meditated and relaxed in the multitudes of spacious areas of the garden. Obi Wan had brought them out to the tree in the middle of the garden, having set out his tea set on the floor between them as he sat facing the twins with his back against the tree.

A breeze passed them by, rustling the branches of the surrounding trees and guiding various blossoms from their boughs, riding on the gust of wind to the ground and dancing- celebrating the journey down.

It was calm. Peaceful and beautiful. Anakin, Obi Wan and Ahsoka were back for the time being on a pit stop, along with the time to take a short break from the constant stress of the war.

While Obi Wan was grateful for the break; he couldn’t really relax when people were still out there dying. He knew he’d only truly get a break when the war was over .

However, he found peace in the comfort of the temple and his tea collection. He found relaxation in the form of spending time with the grandkids, feeling warm at being able to teach them about something he enjoyed.

Leia was at ease in the garden; with her hair up in intricate plaits that Obi Wan knew Padmé had to have taught her to do. Leia was beginning to take after her mother, and Obi Wan found solace in the grace Leia shared with Padmé- the reminder of it always reminded him that the future was in good hands.

Luke on the other hand, took after his father- but Obi Wan could see Padmé’s deep empathy and quiet strength and resolve in him. Luke had his father’s chin and juvenile demeanour, but Obi Wan knew he would do what it took to do the right thing. This, too, was somehow a comfort for Obi Wan about their uncertain futures.

The Force was a constant comfort among the flowing nature of the garden that allowed them to be mindful; present, and just to enjoy the moment. Obi Wan could feel his shoulders relax, his muscles ease. Stress drained out of him in this garden of Eden.

“Because, my dear, the tea leaves are loose. If you skip this process without a filter- you will get leaves in your tea. Do you want to drink tea leaves?” Obi Wan answered with a patient smile.

“No.” Leia soured, pouting. Luke laughed.

“You are such a wuss.”  

“I am not! Just…” Leia scrunched her face up at the idea of it, clearly not in love with the idea of the texture of leaves in her drink.

Obi Wan watched them with barely concealed bemusement. “Anyway,” he segued.

“After you brew the tea in the lidded cup, you have to carefully transfer the tea into the teapot.” Obi Wan explained, holding the small ceramic bowl with a floral pattern up and adjusting the lid so there was a crack. The tea poured out of the lidded cup easily due to the curved edges of the lip of the bowl. It came out steaming.

Once Obi Wan had transferred the tea, the lidded cup was left with wet tea leaves. He set the lidded cup down and picked the teapot up with reverence as he splashed some tea onto the small clay lothcat figurine that sat close to Obi Wan. Tea from the figurine drained onto the ground, the tea making the clay figurine steam in the cool air. 

Luke sensed something and turned away from Obi Wan’s lesson to identify the source. He, along with Obi Wan, spotted Anakin and Ahsoka as they were approaching, their combined youthful orange Force signature bright and full of energetic zing.  If Obi Wan was correct; then they had just come from roaming the Coruscanti market for a while to let some steam off.

Obi Wan paused in his tea making, watching them draw closer.

“Ah.” Obi Wan smiled up at them, his eyes crinkling. He addressed them in turn. “Anakin. Ahsoka. Would you like to join us for some tea?” 

Anakin smiled ruefully. “Thank you master, but I’m alright.”

Obi Wan’s gaze moved to Ahsoka. She hefted the pinkish yellow bubble tea drink she had in hand with a small smile as if to show Obi Wan she already had a drink.

“I’m alright as well, thanks master.” Ahsoka nodded gratefully, following Anakin’s lead and deferring to Obi Wan’s title while in public on sacred Jedi temple grounds.

“Grandpa?” Luke asked, seemingly out of the blue. Obi Wan turned his attention back to Luke and Leia.

“Yes?” Obi Wan replied indulgently. He could hear Ahsoka snickering from her place off to the side.

“Why are the cups so small?” Luke asked innocently, wide-eyed, naive, and curious. He was enjoying this tea thing so far.

Obi Wan sighed, a fond but resigned small smile on his face as he eyed Ahsoka and Anakin to his right.

“Because good things come in small packages, I’m afraid.” Obi Wan replied indulgently. Anakin and Ahsoka were set off into peals of laughter at that, their minds going straight to the gutter for amusement reasons.

Obi Wan poured some tea out for himself and sipped it patiently, clearly utilizing it to restrain himself. Obi Wan glanced at the neighbouring Jedi picnic’s wine bottle with longing as Luke and Leia were distracted by the way Ahsoka and Anakin snickered, glancing at each other with the knowing look of a shared joke between them.

“Why are you laughing?” Leia asked, a little confused as to why Obi Wan’s answer warranted such humour.

Obi Wan sighed.  “You’ll understand when you’re older, dearest.” The twins pouted; they hated being told that. 

Obi Wan poured some tea for Luke and Leia with an amused glint to his eyes, basking in the domesticity of the moment as Anakin and Ahsoka sat down with their legs crossed to his left. They settled down to watch the tea lesson unfold in the garden- clearly chasing after more humorous moments from the innocence of Obi Wan’s grandkids.

Obi Wan poured some more hot water into the floral lidded cup, putting the lid back on delicately and picking it up by holding onto the lip of the bowl. With a practiced hand, he used his index finger to press on the lid of the lidded cup as he gently swirled the brewing tea, setting it down for a moment so as to not drop the hot ceramic.

“Have you heard anything from the council about possible upcoming missions?” Luke asked, probing Obi Wan for local Jedi news.

“Not as of yet, but none of them involve you so far.” Obi Wan informed him calmly. “Which is good; you need to catch up.”

Luke sighed. “Alright, old man, I get it.”

Obi Wan shot him a displeased look which Luke ignored. 

“Actually, Obi Wan, I have a question.” Luke started; eyeing Obi Wan with clear apprehension. Obi Wan felt his eyes narrow despite himself. When the Skywalkers asked ‘I have a question’ it usually didn’t turn out well.

“Right.” Obi Wan set his tea down, prepared to give the question his full attention.

Luke transferred the tea from the lidded cup Obi Wan had filled to the teapot, splashing Obi Wan’s teapet (which he had affectionately called chat after ‘chai cat’) with some tea- watching the tea drip around the shiny earthy clay and into the dish beneath as he collected his thoughts. Something seemed to be bothering him.

“Anakin told me that you have a history with Mandalore, and… I wanted to ask what you knew about Mandalorian politics?” Luke finally asked, and something about the reluctance of the admission had Obi Wan’s hackles raised. 

Obi Wan looked puzzled, but slightly deflated. “Oh.”

Luke eyed him with interest, curious about this reaction. Obi Wan found himself fretting about whether Luke knew about Satine.

“He told you?” Obi Wan furrowed his brow. “What did he tell you, exactly?”

“Just that you had a history with some of the leaders of Mandalore and knew more about the politics of this war than you let on.” Luke shrugged.

“I see.” Obi Wan’s eyes glinted with something unnameable, Luke furrowed his brow at him. “So I suppose you want to learn more about the politics of the war? You know how I feel about politicians, Luke.”

“I know, Obi Wan, but I just want to understand the war better. If learning politics is the key to that, then…” Luke shrugged, seeming tersely non-committal.

Obi Wan sighed. “Alright then, my young Padawan, if you insist.” 

“According to my experience; Mandalorian politics depends entirely on your views on violence.” Obi Wan explained.  “For a while, the pacifist clans had their way as one of their own decided to rebuild Mandalore and appoint a new government with pacifism at the forefront. Consequently; an uprising of traditionalist Mandalorians attacked to take the throne. These Mandalorians, Luke, believed that to be pacifist was to blaspheme against what it means to be Mandalorian. Their taking of the throne instilled the previous leadership tradition back onto Mandalore.”

Luke furrowed his brow at Obi Wan as if puzzled how pacifist Mandalorians could exist. Obi Wan felt a stab of sorrow that all Luke knew about Mandalorian culture was war; and that Luke knew nothing of the prosperous time of Mandalore before. 

“The previous leadership tradition?” Luke inquired when Obi Wan wasn’t forthcoming with the answer.   

“Ritual combat for possession of an ancient sword; called the Darksaber.” Obi Wan sighed. “The bearer is entitled to the throne if they so choose, and the bearer’s claim to the title overrules any and all other claims to the throne. If anyone takes issue with the bearer’s right to rule, they can challenge the bearer for possession of the saber.”

“ All other claims ? What’s so special about the saber anyway?” Luke inquired, and Obi Wan was starting to get the feeling Luke was asking about something he already knew the answers to- given the gleam in Luke’s eye.

“I’m not too clear on that, but Pre-Vizla did brag to me once that it was stolen from the Jedi temple.” Obi Wan said with disdain.

Luke was surprised at the name drop. “Who’s Pre-Vizla?”

“Ex-Death Watch member. Last time I checked; he had the saber.” Obi Wan shrugged. He didn’t want to go into the fact that he knew the Darksaber was in the hands of someone else, and that Obi Wan was waiting with bated breath to see whether or not the change in leadership would change things.

Luke wisely saw that Obi Wan was done with the subject and dropped it.

Chapter Text

mesh'la- online now 🟢

hey guess what 

din

din

???

you big idiot ur usually up by now 

???

djarin

.... ???????? 

r u dead

do I need to find the alor to tell her ur dead lmao 

read at 7.30 am 

... you left me on read?????? 

wow

I'm offended bye

read at 7.34 am

Din rolled his eyes, getting on with his morning routine. Luke could wait five minutes. His texting mannerisms were clearly from the core considering the fact he was forgetting that people actually needed to get ready in the morning. 

mesh'la- online now 🟢

...

what

read at 7.45 am

oh I see

we're being petty is that it

real mature

wow 

😔😔

u don't mean that 

😪😪 

fine

I don't 

☺️

anyway 

what did you want to tell me 

I have guard shift in 10

miss me already? it's only been one night, golden boy. 

u flatter urself too much

😔 

I found some stuff out and wanted to lyk

1) obi wan is more involved with Mando politics than I thought 

2) who's pre-vizla bc he used to have the Darksaber before u

well that was obvious

obvious?????!

yeah your granddad recognised me as the cabur before 

👁👄👁

he did??????????!

yeah why 

he told me he didn't know who had the saber now ????

clearly he has a history w Mandalore

but doesn't want to tell you  

why didn't u tell me?

didn't think it was important I guess

... fair

I mean recognising you is weird but just a blip so I get it

who's pre-vizla?

I don't know, but Paz is from his clan

?

Clan Vizla

is that clan big or 

not really

they're particular about their bloodline 

his clan fell into disgrace for something but nobody talks about how or why

👀👀👀

interesting

yeah 

u've got to go right 

it's been 20 mins

ur late

farrick

yeah 

read at 8.07 am

Din gathered his things, getting ready to spend a couple hours keeping watch and trying not to fall asleep. 

Guard duty was the best place to contemplate things, in Din's humble opinion. It was usually peaceful; the guard duty Din endured was more a formality than strictly necessary. The Alor liked to remind Din of what it was like to be a lower level soldier with assignments like this, and Din couldn't be more grateful for them. If the Jedi warriors had meditating, then Din Djarin had this. 

There was something about the Pre-Vizla story that didn't make sense to Din. Usually when the Mandalorians had dirt on someone's clan, they wouldn't shut up about it- the rumour and gossip mill endlessly churning out wilder and wilder stories about the clan until the clan dispelled them.

What could've been so bad that happened to the Vizla clan even the rumour mill wouldn't touch it? Why hadn't Din heard of the Sith, and why weren't they mentioned in the information on Jedi in the archive? Why did Din have to find out about them from Luke?  It made no sense; and something told Din there were pieces intentionally missing from the puzzle. It was like someone went into the information available with a scalpel, leaving frivolous details about the story in but removing the salient facts. There was blood all over this. 

Din scanned the hallway outside the Alor's armoury quickly, making sure to double check no one was doing anything suspicious as they passed by for various things. He watched as a young Mandalorian with brightly coloured hair styled into a long pixie cut entered the armoury. Her armour was a rainbow of colour in comparison to the russet tones of the compound. He had a feeling she was going in for a vambrace upgrade as she rose through the ranks of training; she'd visited the armoury a couple times before for the same thing. 

Quiet settled back into the hallway, and Din focused back onto his original train of thought. He settled on listing the things he knew about the situation first before proceeding with any speculation. 

What did he know about the Vizlas so far? 

         1. Pre-Vizla, a recent ancestor, had the Darksaber at some point. 

         2. Something had happened and the Vizla clan name had fallen into shame. 

         3. Pre-Vizla had obviously lost the Darksaber somehow to circumstances unknown 

         4. Paz was of the Vizla bloodline, but ended up alone as a foundling of Din's tribe- meaning that both his parents had died. 

And of the Sith?

         1. They're the anti-Jedi. 

         2. They're either so horrible that they were removed from the archives for that alone, or an ally of the Jedi inside the government deleted them to reduce the scale of the war. 

Din sighed. He was going to need more than that. Something in his gut tugged insistently; telling him there was something important about the fact the Sith were absent from the Mandalorian archives. The absence spoke more volumes than the presence of that information ever could. 

A political move if Din had ever saw one. Din needed to find out who had deleted them from the archives, and why. 

Something told him that it could mean the very difference between a successful reign as Manda'lor and one sabotaged by secrets kept in the dark. 

Although Din had never wanted to take the throne; he'd long since accepted his role as future Manda'lor if it meant being able to heal the divide between the Mandalorians and the Jedi. Not just for his son; but for Luke now as well. 

And may the gods help anyone who stood between Din and that goal. 

Din made the decision to visit the onsite military database after his shift. When the Alor asked what he was doing now that he had the rest of the day off; he had told her that he was going to have an early lunch and go to train. 

But it wasn't his buir's business if he detoured along the way, was it? She didn't need to know that he was poking around in Jedi business. 

The round door to the database opened with a shhk! as Din stepped calmly through, well aware of the archivist's eyes on him as he approached the attendant's desk. The archivist made to quickly close whatever he was doing on his terminal and Din took note to himself that he liked to slack off. 

"Can I help you?" The attending archivist asked, standing as if surprised by his visit. Din didn't visit the database often. 

Din waited a moment to let the archivist stew in his nerves while he scanned the walls of the room; servers lit up and turned off at seemingly random intervals as it received and sent out information. 

"Yes." Din admitted, finally turning his attention to the squirming archivist. The poor man was just a civilian surrounded by warriors all day and yet he still got surprised when his heavily armed superiors dropped in for a visit. It went to show how ignored the database was considering the warriors of the military base tended to request information digitally rather than in person.

"Do you have anything on a religious group called the Sith? I'm told they could be our allies in this war." Din informed the archivist cooly. 

"Allies?" The archivist looked surprised, but slowly moved to his terminal to fulfil Din's request. 

Din pursed his lips with displeasure and remained silent to wait. Something black and sticky roiled in his stomach at the thought of actually teaming up with whatever these anti-Jedi were. Whoever they were; it was clear that the lengths they would go to achieve their ends was not something a non-Jedi wanted to tangle with given they had slaughtered people who were once their friends and siblings-in-arms to try get their way.  

The archivist looked up at him after while. 

"Anything?" Din asked, stepping closer to the desk to try and peek at the terminal. The archivist turned it off.

"It's classified, sir." The archivist replied, gulping. He couldn't stop blinking, and Din felt his eyes narrow- the archivist was lying to him. 

"Excuse me?" Din asked with incredulity, giving the man a second chance to realise that lying to him was not in the interest of his health.

The archivist grew bolder; he stood up straighter. "It's classified. Unless you've got top level access, you can't access it."

The gall this man had was astounding. Din thought of himself as a very patient person, but this was just ridiculous. 

Din walked around the desk and into the alcove the desk was situated in so the desk didn't separate him from the archivist. 

"Do you know who I am?" Din asked lowly, the edge of danger to his voice as clear as an alarm bell as he leaned close to the archivist. 

The archivist stepped away from him and into his desk, clearly getting a little scared; he had a whole 6'1 of a ticked off, beskar plated, Mandalorian warrior threatening him. Who wouldn't be scared? 

"Uh..." The man trailed, clearly recognising him but not wanting to admit that he recognised the silver bekar armour. 

"Is being the Cabur and the future Manda'lor not security clearance access enough?" Din growled. He was so tired of all these red walls and tape around the Sith- there was clearly a political secret to do with them and Din wanted to know what exactly it was before it bit him in the ass later. This incompetent and deceitful archivist was not going to get in his way. 

"With..." The man gulped. "With all due respect; you're not the Manda'lor yet, sir." 

Something in Din snapped; he felt the elastic in his stomach break with a force intense enough to break bones. Everyone kept saying that- 'You're not the Manda'lor yet'- as if that could justify the way they treated him. Sometimes Din wondered if these people remembered that he was still a Mandalorian warrior, and not a weak prince that they could use as a punching bag just because he didn't agree with Bo-Katan. 

Din brandished his viroblade from it's scabbard at his thigh, the short dagger the length of his forearm was sharp and daunting enough to be threatening. He knocked the archivist into his chair and pressed the blade to his throat- the archivist cried out as the sharp of the blade brushed against skin, his eyes wide with fear. 

"Just because I'm not the Manda'lor yet, doesn't mean I won't be in the future." Din's voice was taut as he stared the man down. He was sick of Bo-Katan's followers thinking they could just walk all over him because he wasn't as violent as her. "You underestimate me and what I'm willing to do." 

The man's lips parted in surprise, and Din drew back for a moment- not wanting to shake the poor man too much.

"What's that supposed to mean?" he asked, voice tight with the clear anxiety thrumming through him. 

"It means that if I have to kill Bo-Katan; I will." Din admitted to the air. "I will do what is necessary. Especially when no one else is willing to do it. I didn't come from hunting bounties for a living just to be meek. Bo-Katan may paint me that way because it suits her; but I hope you realise a lot of her promises are empty. What she says is often farther from the truth than you realise." 

The man blinked, surprised by the admission. Din could still see the terror in the archivist's eyes- he could tell Din was telling the stone cold truth. While he knew this painted him in a bad light; he didn't have to prove his moral compass to someone who had just baldly lied to his face. 

"Now." Din started slowly, pressing the blade back into the archivist's neck. The archivist squeaked in pain but tried to keep quiet. "I'll ask again. Where can I find the information on the Sith? Don't lie to me this time." 

The archivist gulped, staring up into Din's visor with the eyes of cornered man. "The truth is we don't have that information here. Bo-Katan pays me extra to obstruct your tribe and restrict information when she wants to. But..." 

Din stared the man down with an impassive gaze. "But?" 

The archivist glanced left and right as if checking to see if anyone was listening. 

"Between you and me; I don't actually follow her. I just enjoy the extra salary. Your lot don't come in here too often. I'm actually not too big of a Kryze follower. She's such a bitch." The archivist admitted quietly but emphatically. 

Din was surprised. "So you support me, then?" 

The archivist pulled a sour face, looking slightly disgusted. "I didn't say that; cultist. I just meant that you're better than Bo-Katan and probably the only viable option. At least you make an effort to connect with the community." 

"I see." Din's gaze flicked over the man's face. Then, he released the man- satisfied with the answers he had received. The man spluttered and gasped as he was released, and Din stepped away to give him some space.

"So where can I find the information I want, then?" Din asked calmly while the man clutched at his bleeding neck. Din knew the cut wasn't deep- it was barely there and mostly there for information gathering purposes. It would heal with time. 

The archivist gave him a dirty look. "In Sundari; the main city inner circle. There's a government archive there. I don't know if your security clearance will fly, but I'm sure you're adept at a little hacking given your supposed bounty hunting background." 

Din didn't know what to do with the mocking jab at his bounty hunting history; so he ultimately ignored it. He wasn't ashamed of his bounty hunting. The bounty hunting his tribe had engaged in prior to this mess of a war had been beneficial to his life on Mandalore. 

"Thank you." Din replied gracefully. The man nodded back, seeming somewhat dignified despite having just been interrogated. 

Din respected that about him. He seemed stronger than he looked. 

"May the next battle treat you well." Din added gently- a traditional goodbye wish. He found that he meant what he said. 

He needed to find a way to bring Luke with him on a trip to Sundari if his investigation was going to get any further. But at least now Din knew he was on the path to understanding Bo-Katan's political goals, and that in itself felt satisfying. Perhaps Din might finally get an edge on the bigoted Kryze. 

Chapter Text

prince - online now 🟢

do u ever  

...

read at 12:00 am

Luke sat up, surprised that Din was awake and now reading his texts. He had only started the text out of habit- to verbalise his thoughts- but now he had to face the idea that Din might actually be listening to his midnight weirdness. 

prince - online now 🟢

do I ever what

...

never mind

no

what is it 

clearly it's important if you're texting at midnight about it

... ur right

... why do you have to be right

grr

oho so there's something

yeah

read at 12:05 am

Everything swirled in Luke's head. There were so many feelings he couldn't pick one- they clashed and fought like dragons swimming in the same river. How could Luke explain the strange sense he was letting Leia down by wanting to keep Din to himself? How could Luke explain that although he was no stranger to keeping secrets from his sister; he felt horrible about doing so? How could Luke explain that to someone who didn't have a twin? Luke and Leia may as well have shared the same soul- his stomach twisted in unhappy knots at the thought of keeping anything from her, and yet... 

He wasn't ready. He didn't know how to tell her; maybe because he wasn't sure what was going on himself. Luke had talked to his father earlier and caught up with him; Anakin hadn't been suspicious of anything and hadn't seemed too worried about his son. 

Luke had tried meditating for the past five hours- time that he should've been using to sleep- trying to dissect his feelings so he could assemble some sort of an explanation that made sense to his sister. But every time he managed to figure an acceptable one out; it always seemed like something key was missing. Like it was a half lie to tell. It was driving Luke insane and he wanted to blurt everything out and let his sister make sense of it as she always managed to do; but somehow he knew this was beyond her level of Luke-decoding. 

That if Luke didn't know what was missing himself then Leia wouldn't be able to figure it out either. 

prince - online now 🟢

?

Luke?

sorry 

I ... don't know how to tell my sister about what happened

I...

I don't even know where to begin 

She'd freak out the moment she hears

'accidental kidnapping by a mandalorian'

that I wouldn't be able to finish my sentence

but if I started with

'I stayed with a Mando for 3 weeks'

she'd still ask where I met you

every angle of this just...

wouldn't make sense to anyone other than you or I

I meditated for 5 hours and I still don't know what to say

but not saying anything feels just as bad as telling her

...

she's the most important person in my life, Din

I don't know what I would do without her

but I don't know...

I can't believe I'm contemplating this but...

I don't think I should tell her

Luke...

I can't tell you how to deal with your sister

ultimately she's your sister

she'll probably be ok with waiting as long as you're happy 

your sister cares about you, after all

she should be okay with it

but... if it helps

I don't mind if you don't tell her either

if it's easier for you

whatever works

but

I want to

I owe that to her 

she's my sister

I know you do

sometimes the hardest thing to do is to wait until you're ready

but it's better to be ready than to deal with the aftermath of not being ready and going through with it 

given how delicate the Mando Jedi situation is I definitely wouldn't blame you for deciding to keep it to yourself 

even if the Jedi are forgiving in nature 

I've noticed that you tend to self-sacrifice for other people's comfort

but you don't need to here, Luke

your sister will wait 

you have time

read at 12:25 am 

Luke hadn't realised that half the reason he was pressuring himself into figuring out how to tell Leia was that he didn't want Din to feel like he was being kept a secret, until Din had told him he didn't have to tell his sister if he didn't feel ready to. Din's clear care for Luke's comfort over whether or not Luke had to keep his new Mandalorian friend a secret sent relief crashing down over him in a tsunami; tears prickling at his eyes as he realised the sincere truth of Din's words. Leia would wait, and Luke knew she would- because ultimately she loved him and cared more about his well-being than knowing where he had been for three weeks. 

prince - online now 🟢

yeah 

ur right

thank you 😭😭 

I needed that

:) 

you're welcome

☺️

:D

isn't it treason for you to smile 

manda'lor

I have no idea what you're talking about 

hmph

read at 12:45am 

It felt fresh and new to go to Din for advice like this, but... somehow amicable, too. Like a nice, enveloping hug and the promise of better days. Din had a gentle side that Luke couldn't help but gravitate to- especially when he couldn't really talk about his time with Din to anyone else. (For now) 

prince - online now 🟢

you should really sleep

Mr 'meditate for 5 hours' 

don't you have training tomorrow 

...

kriff

yeah

I do 

good night, Luke 

😌

night din 

read at 1:00am

"Luke!" Leia called amidst the bustling hallway. Luke turned, trying to locate her in the cacophony of voices bouncing on the walls of the overfull hallway. He'd just stepped out of his room and into the morning breakfast crowd. 

Luke sensed Leia's teal Force-signature somewhere to his right. He fought the flow of the hallway to get to the other side; focusing on the sense of peace that washed over him as it grew in intensity the closer he got to his sister. Leia was leaning against the rounded hallway wall, looking like a model with her hair braided and donning an all beige ensemble that only seemed semi civilian-esque. Leia had never been big on the robes, and although it wasn't mandatory to wear them, she still stood out amongst the crowd of modest Jedi. Luke supposed that both Ahsoka and Leia did. 

Like Master, like Padawan. 

Leia stood up straight, putting her leg down from it's rest on the wall. 

"I thought you'd never wake up, coma man. I was so close to just getting R2 to come get you." Leia rolled her eyes, leading them into the flow of the crowd towards the mess hall.

Luke play gasped. "And deprive me of seeing you in the morning? No." 

"Yes." Leia smirked. "You're lucky it's not pancake day, or I would've ditched your ass." 

Luke grabbed at his chest where his heart would be dramatically. "The betrayal, Leia! My own sister!" 

Leia cocked an eyebrow at him, clearly unimpressed. Luke could see the glimmer of amusement in her eyes as she looked back at the crowd to smirk. 

"How was your little holiday?" Leia asked, changing the subject casually as they navigated. Luke had known this was topic coming. 

"I would hardly call it a holiday..." Luke trailed, pulling a face. 

"Oh so you were actually getting supplies?" Leia asked, sending a dubious glance his way. 

"I may have taken a couple detours..." Luke admitted. Leia practically cackled with glee. 

"I don't need an in depth explanation of any booty calls that definitely didn't happen if that's what you mean." Leia winked. Luke found himself blushing, but he tried to focus on something else. 

"Of course not." Luke replied, pretending to be a stuck up, dignified senator. 

Leia laughed, and it was music against the hundreds of diverse voices that surrounded them. 

Luke was home. 

"To the left," Obi Wan directed as he met Luke head on, saber to saber. Obi Wan blocked him with a Shien kata stance. "Good. To the right." 

Luke wobbled as he responded with a complimentary stance. Obi Wan felt his eyes narrow, studying the Force currents surrounding his young Padawan. 

"Again." Obi Wan commanded, and they went through the kata routine again. Luke didn't make a dent in the Force as he moved, and Obi Wan was starting to see the issue; Luke wasn't using the Force. 

When they had finished and Luke had grabbed some water, Obi Wan gave his grandson a long measured look. 

"Why aren't you using the Force? As commendable an effort that is; the katas do require channelling the Force in order to work, dear." Obi Wan lectured, and Luke turned his eyes downcast- suddenly shy. 

"Sorry Master, just... I wanted to learn what it was like to try the katas without the Force... like a normal person would have to." Luke explained with a slightly guilty looking look. 

Obi Wan was not impressed. "While that's empathetic of you, Luke, this is your training. Not 'normal people' training." 

"Sorry Obi Wan." Luke apologised, looking sheepish. 

"It's alright. I'm happy for you explore this interest further, just perhaps not during in my lessons, alright?" Obi Wan gentled, and he could practically see Master Windu's disapproval. 

"Why don't we have a bout? Your katas clearly don't need work." Obi Wan suggested. Luke grinned at him as if had been handed a present. 

"You read my mind." 

Their bout started as it normally did. Obi Wan attacked first, lighting his saber and coaxing Luke away from his initial defensive position. 

But Luke surprised him; this time, after all the times he had fought on the defence, he stayed on the offensive. Obi Wan had to keep up with the increased Force-aided speed as they went back and forth.

Obi Wan won, of course. Luke was still the Padawan learner and still had much to learn- but Obi Wan hoped that he could teach Luke the same Force tricks he had taught Anakin to. 

Still... Something had changed, and Luke was doing better at pressing Obi Wan back than he had been able to before. There was a hint of something un-Jedi-like to the way Luke stepped into Obi Wan's personal space closer than Obi Wan had taught him to. There was a daring and prideful hint to his Force-signature as they fought. 

Obi Wan narrowed his eyes. Something about Luke had changed in those three weeks. Something had happened that Luke wasn't telling anyone about, and Obi Wan had a feeling it was something monumental. 

As soon as Luke had heard that the Council had approved Obi Wan’s push to get Luke onto the battlefield, he’d fretted over how to avoid being recognized.

The simplest solution for Luke would be to just wear his cloak the whole time; but he understood the dynamics of combat and of his kata stances well enough by now to know that the cloak’s hood would just fall away from his face and he would be back to square one.

The main problem was that Luke was now known among the Mandalorians and while perhaps Luke really should've had some forethought before getting involved with the Mandalorian prince, he couldn’t bring himself to regret that particular turn of events.

He had to take into consideration the fact that he didn’t have a helmet to hide behind- the Jedi didn’t traditionally wear armour. Even during the Clone Wars, the Jedi only wore sparse armour out of pure necessity. There had been discomfort with the idea of armour back then, and still was. As Luke walked the halls of the Jedi compound, the various armour pieces that the Jedi had donned for the war were constantly adjusted, as if the various leg guards or Jedi-style pauldrons didn’t quite fit. The atmosphere of discomfort on the subject was unmistakable.

The Jedi typically chose to don peasant robes to remain humble- despite the flair of Jedi culture that had been added to the robe styles Luke commonly saw around the temple.  He had had to think long and hard about a fitting conspicuous disguise that he could also pass off to his grandfather.

Luke found his answer a couple days later in the form of Council training. The Council had held a session to demonstrate some more advanced defensive movements to the Padawans who were slated to increase their presence on the frontline. The ones listed for their combat prowess.

Luke knew that his father and Obi Wan were proud of his clear talent with his use of his lightsaber. He’d overheard his grandfather fondly telling Anakin that ‘he had learnt the katas as quickly as he did, back when he had trained.’ He’d been listed to attend the presentation by Obi Wan.

The demonstration was in the centre of the dojo in the gym, and the two councilmembers (one of which was Master Windu) had donned Temple Guard masks, along with sparse armour worn on their limbs.

Overall, the demonstration had been useful. Luke had used it to plan out his solo training sessions from that point on- he had a feeling that the inventive use of the Force that these particular defensive katas utilised would be incredibly effective against Mandalorians.

When the demonstration was over, Luke eyed the armour again- intrigued by the use of the Temple Guard masks. He knew that knights of higher levels used them (with altered designs so as to not be confused with actual Temple Guards) when they wanted to train seriously and protect their face from lightsaber slashes. He'd seen them around while training back at the Great Temple. 

The more that Luke thought about it; the more Luke started to realize that it was the answer to his problem. He came back later when the Master level knights were training and slipped a spare one into his training rucksack with some creative sleight of hand.

Back in Luke’s room; he paced as he studied the mask. He could feel his Padawan braid tickling the back of his neck as it swished with the movement. He couldn’t help but feel a little out of his depth here- he wasn’t trained in the Temple Guard masks, and they had been known for their visibility issues. The Guards had a little bit of a legendary status for their ability to rely on the Force for most of their visibility.

Temple Guard masks are white; the only break in them being the blocky eye slits. There was flowy gold paint; painted in long strokes that halved the face, stylistic strokes fanned out away from the divide at the forehead, making the face look both regal and imposing. Adding to that, there were graceful brush strokes from the bottom of the cheekbones up, emphasising their status as part of the regal priests of the Force they were. It was clear not just from the mask design, but the ear cover built into the mask that they were not to messed with. The level of devotion the Temple Guards had to the order was often renowned, as becoming a Temple Guard was a path that a Jedi knight had to be summoned and handpicked to follow. Only the best knights got called up for the duty.

Luke stared at it- at a loss for how to alter it. He didn’t want to get accused of imitating a Temple Guard- that was a sacrilegious accusation he wanted to avoid at all costs- but there was something sacrilegious about considering to repaint the mask as well.

Perhaps Ezra would know; he’d always been a troublemaker without much regard for tradition.

“Whoa-“

Luke huffed. He knew this would happen.

Ezra looked up at him from the mask in his hands, an impressed and respectful look on his face. He turned the mask over in his hands- studying it.

“How’d you grab one of these?” Ezra whistled, trying it on childishly. Luke sighed with exasperation. Perhaps bringing Ezra into this was a bad idea.

“Just a little misdirection.” Luke shrugged.

If Ahsoka was here, she’d joke that he took after his father more than she had thought.

“Dude, these are hard to grab- that must’ve been one hell of a switch.” Ezra said with more than a little admiration. Ezra was right- the Temple Guard masks were pretty hard to get- especially as a Padawan. Most of the time they stay in the training room. Only specific people get permission to use them outside of the guard, and Luke had been lucky to find one lying around during the Masters training time. 

“Tatooine taught me well.” Luke shrugged, trying to make it seem like a small deal. He couldn’t help the small smile of pride, though.

Ezra chuckled, passing the mask back to Luke.

“Did you come just to gloat, or did you grab it for something?” Ezra asked, raising an eyebrow at him. Luke sighed, sitting at one of Ezra’s brightly coloured chairs.

“I’m going to join the battle soon. In about a week, I think.” Luke finally broke the news to his cousin, finding that the news weighed on him much more heavily than he had thought. The idea of meeting Din on the battlefield wasn’t too conducive to productive thought, either- a maelstrom of emotion clouded his thinking.

Luke shook himself out of his thoughts before they overwhelmed him.

“I want to use it so I don’t get this pretty face ruined.” Luke joked.

Ezra furrowed a brow, his blueberry hair shifting to curtain over his face as he cocked his head in thought. “You’ll need a re-paint if you want to try that.”

“Exactly.” Luke floated the mask in the air between them. It spun in slow circles.

“I’m just not sure what design to paint it with. I…”

“Am having a religious crisis over a simple mask?” Ezra finished, flashing a charming grin at him. Luke deflated, his mouth quirking at the corners- they really knew each other.

“Yeah.”

Ezra approached the mask thoughtfully, a puzzled look on his face as he considered it.

“Well you’d want it to represent you- that way people can still know it’s you under there.” Ezra suggested. He was no stranger to wearing masks. He often stole the helmets of various enemies. Ezra had never managed to steal a Mandalorian one as a souvenir, but he had definitely joked about it. His Master, Caleb Dume, didn’t really enjoy the idea of battle souvenirs but at the same time had never found it within himself to stop Ezra from doing so if it brought him joy.

“But what would I paint? Ultimately, I’m just a Jedi.” Luke sighed with frustration. Nothing coming to mind when he thought of a design representative of himself.

“Are you kidding? You’re from Tatooine and Naboo, not to mention the family of the Senator- you have so many things you could put on there. The Festival of Light, the Queen’s face paint, hell- even a Bantha!” Ezra exclaimed, knocking on Luke’s skull like it was a door as if to say ‘wake up, you karking idiot!’

“Alright, alright.” Luke complained, rubbing his skull where Ezra had knocked on it- trying to erase to throbbing that started there. “If you’re so full of ideas why don’t you paint it?”

“Oh I don’t know, probably because I have the artistic talent of a womp rat, Luke.” Ezra grumbled.

Luke sighed, calling the mask to him and gazing upon it. “Also I think using the Queen of Naboo’s face paint would be treason.” He commented uselessly.

They fell into silence as they thought it through for a moment.

“Alright- let’s pick something easy. What’s the most predatory animal on Tatooine? There’s got to be one on that Force-forsaken rock.” Ezra pressed, sitting right across from Luke and staring him down with intent.  

“Why predatory?” Luke asked, surprised.

“To strike fear into your enemies, of course.” Ezra replied with the air of someone on the verge of saying ‘duh?’

“That is not the Jedi way.” Luke cocked his head at Ezra.

“The Mandalorians don’t karking care whether it’s the Rhodian way or otherwise- they just care about whether or not they think they can take you in a fight.” Ezra exclaimed with some frustration.

“What about the Jedi? Once they see the mask they’ll judge me for it.” Luke worried.

Ezra squinted at Luke, narrowing his eyes. “Since when do you care? You're Luke Naberrie.”

Luke blinked. Ezra was right. As long as it worked- who cared what the conservative Jedi thought of him? He probably wasn’t the only one who had thought of this. Luke had never been one to particularly care what others thought of him before.

But then, he’d never been friends with royalty before either.

“A Krayt Dragon.” Luke finally told Ezra, growing in bravery. “The most predatory animal on Tatooine is a Krayt Dragon.”

“Right.” Ezra stood up with a flourish. A sense of becoming part of something greater filled Luke up as he followed Ezra.

“Where do we find some paint?”

Luke trained late at night, in his room, with the mask until he fought just as well with it on as he did with it off. It took a couple all-nighters, but Luke had decided it was worth the extra work.

He hadn’t quite told Obi Wan about it yet; mostly because he was worried his old man would tell him not to- but either way he was about to find out.

Luke stood with the other Jedi at the exit of the compound- the exit that faced the Mandalorian military base. It left him feeling exposed, but Luke had dressed for the job.

He stood out in his dark brown robes and fingerless gloves- cloak drawn up around his shoulders. It was hot at this time, but the cloak provided a comforting weight that Luke didn’t quite want to let go of yet.

This wasn’t his first time entering the throng of the war, but it was the first time he was worried about being recognised mid-battle. It added a dimension of largeness to the whole experience that left Luke feeling small. This war felt much bigger than it had before. 

The others were getting ready around Luke, various meditations were taking place; the Force Signatures of the combined Jedi were bright to look at as they tried to maintain a pure connection to the Force. A combination of various sensory Force Signatures bombarded him- they depended on the person, and there were too many Jedi here to pick out any particular one.

Luke’s new mask hung at his waist, hidden for now under his cloak, but he knew sooner or later he would have to put it on. He could see the Mandalorian forces amassing on the other side of the sandy space between them.

A familiar presence appeared nearby. Orange and youthful. Luke turned to discern whether it was Ahsoka or Anakin; although he technically could without doing so. Ahsoka had a graceful floral note to her Force Signature, while his father had a dangerous tinge that left Luke feeling like he could taste the oncoming thunder.

“Anakin.” Luke greeted.

“That’s me.” Anakin smiled wryly. He turned to his son, gripping Luke’s shoulder in a fatherly comforting gesture. “You alright? I heard from Obi Wan that…”

Luke turned to fully look his father in the eye. A small smile grew at Anakin’s care. 

“I should be. I’ve been working on my fear.” Luke admitted. Obi Wan had obviously fretted to his father about Luke's fear of Mandalorians. 

“I tried to tell Obi Wan you just needed a little more time, but… he told me that sometimes what's best for us also has the possibility to hurt us.” Anakin murmured apologetically.

Luke chuckled humourlessly. “Yeah. I get it. Don't worry about me.”

He turned to grip his father’s elbow, love for him filling him up. “Thank you, though.” Father. 

A bittersweet note of the word Luke hadn’t said hung in the space between them.

Anakin nodded, a soft smile on his face as he shared a moment with his son.

He coughed; dropping his arm, and then it was back to being Anakin Skywalker and Luke Naberrie.

“My advice would be to stay calm and remember that they’re people too.” Anakin coached.

Not too hard now that I’ve become friends with the prince, Dad. Luke couldn’t help the thought.

“Of course.” Luke conceded instead with a minute bow. “That is the Jedi way.”

Anakin smiled, and Luke glimpsed his doting father again in the expression.

Luke had been lucky- he’d been separated from Obi Wan on accident as the battle begun, which made the whole mask thing easier. He slipped the mask on and joined the battle, doing his best to disarm- in accordance with the Jedi code of conduct.

It was difficult in a war, however, and he felt instant remorse when he had to cut down a Mandalorian or two.

Luke hadn’t been sure he’d see Din in this battle- Din didn’t always join the warriors in the daily attempt to take the Jedi base; but then Luke spotted him. Shining like a star in the middle of the battle. The hot dessert sun of Mandalore making him blinding to look at. He looked like half a god of war himself meeting the Jedi blow by blow. It was taking multiple younger Jedi Padawans at present to even slow him down.

Luke saw Obi Wan not far from Din and decided to cut in before his grandfather had another shot at ruining his friendship with Din.

He wasn’t sure how he’d manage it, but kriff, he was slightly paranoid now given it had already happened once.

When Din’s spear clanged against his green saber, and he looked right into where Din’s eyes should be on his visor, Luke felt something in him relax. Suddenly the battle was something far away, the carnage and chaos and shouting part of something outside of their bubble. He was transported to their bouts of sparring of the past few weeks. 

“Hey there, Prince of Mandalore.” Luke grinned lowly, flashing Din a glance.

Luke could practically see Din visibly stutter, his aura flashing in bright white, surprised by Luke's sudden appearance. He took the advantage to attempt to disarm Din, twisting the spear and crowding his personal space.

It took a minute for Din to recover his wits. He tugged his spear back and took the opportunity to try kick Luke’s legs out from underneath him.

“I see it’s the golden boy of the Jedi, huh?” Din replied cooly, walking around Luke nonchalantly after Luke had thwarted his leg attack. There was a predatory quality to the way they circled each other for a moment amidst the chaos.

“Hardly.” The young Skywalker shrugged, bending in a theatrical version of a bow. “But if that’s what you choose to believe, who am I to stop you?”

Din feinted a blow to the left before striking with the butt of his spear to Luke’s right, and the force rippled in warning. Despite Luke blocking with his lightsaber, it reached its mark on his ribs with a thump. Now in his personal space, he leaned in close to Luke’s ear.

“But you could stop me, couldn’t you?” Din taunted, his voice a whisper against his helmet.

So why could Luke feel the ghost of the breath against his own helmeted ear? He shivered.

“Depends if that’s what you’re into, your majesty.” Luke teased back lowly, before kneeing Din in the groin and doing a flip to put some space between them. He didn’t need Obi Wan getting any ideas.

Din growled. “Stop playing with your food.”

Luke smirked.

“If you insist, my dear.” He replied with a wink, quickly turning his saber off and hanging it on his belt. Din found himself on the wrong end of the Force; hovering in the air and choking. His aura was suddenly injected with deep maroon as he reached for his own throat.

The Mandalorians nearby looked on, a little shocked at Luke deviating from the normal Jedi script and going straight to the Force-choking.

Luke held the Force-choke, waiting for Din to find his way out of it. He hadn’t tried the Force-choke in their training sessions together, but he knew that Din could probably deal with it. He’d always judged it as too much of a hazard; but even now he was starting to get worried.

Din, after having gotten over whatever it was that had momentarily paralyzed him, fiddled with something on his vambrace. Luke found himself tied up in some sort of cord that whipped out from Din’s vambrace. The Mandalorians stopped watching, clearly comforted their fearsome prince was doing alright.

Din fell to the sand in Luke's surprise, coughing and spluttering. Din rolled into a crouch before he approached Luke, aura heady with prideful tangerine. 

“You sure that’s all you’ve got?” Din remarked dryly, the sass clearly having not been knocked out of him yet.

Luke growled, using the Force to call his lightsaber to him from his belt and cut through the cord entrapping him. He struck out at Din’s arm with the saber, making sure to glance the blow off his beskar.

“Oh I’ll show you all I’ve got," Luke parried Din’s spear.  "You stuck up" Luke injected as he ducked away from Din's jab.  "karking Mandalorian-“

They exchanged glancing blows. Luke ducked under Din’s spear as he went in for a wide swing. The spear whistled past his back.

Luke took the chance while Din was unbalanced to kick his knees out from under him, effectively toppling him over. Din grunted with surprise as Luke called Din’s spear to him triumphantly. He stood over the future Manda’lor with a perverse sense of preening as he twirled the spear for a moment.

“C’mon. I want to hear it.” Luke murmured down to him, beaming.

Suddenly Luke’s view was of the sky and not of Din sprawled at his feet as Din toppled Luke over grabbing at his feet.

“You were saying?” Din goaded as he kneeled over Luke, a toothy smirk clear from his voice. His aura was once more a sunset and Luke felt dazed with the intensity of it. (Although, he had to admit it may also be the result of a possible slight concussion. He didn’t know.)

“Alright. But I still won.” Luke commented petulantly.

Din sighed long-sufferingly. “That you did.”

Luke grinned, winking at him from behind the mask. “I think that’s 21 to 19 now.”

Din chuckled. They were silent for a moment, the sound of blaster bolts, shouting and scrambling their background noise as they took a moment to just look.

“I didn’t want people to-“ Din added as if he suddenly realized. Luke knew what he meant without him having to finish. If Luke had won against Din publicly mid-battle, people might connect it to Din’s supposed new foundling who had also beat the Manda’lor.  

“Yeah of course.” Luke smiled, chest warming.

“Nice mask.” Din commented. “It suits your hair.”

Luke blushed all over, and was suddenly thankful for the mask.

“Thanks.”

“The Krayt Dragon was a good idea.” Din complimented. Luke wasn’t sure what to do with the sudden compliments. Something sticky and hot churned in his stomach as he stared up at Din, who was crouched over him like he was wrestling him down. His heart pounding was the only thing he could hear now above the throng of the battle.

“Cabur! Could I have the honour of helping you finish the kill?” A Mandalorian piped up at the wrong moment; and the moment was broken. They crashed back into the painful reality that they were in the middle of a warzone.

“No you cannot, Blaise. That was incredibly disrespectful.” Din growled back, standing up over Luke. Luke pretended to be wounded and lay still. “You would think I would take all this effort to dominate over the enemy and let you steal the kill?”  

The poor Mandalorian warrior backed off, murmuring apologies.

As Luke lay there, he realized pretending to be wounded was a bad idea because now Din was definitely expected to kill him.

“Well well, Cabur.” A lilting high class accent called out. Luke caught sight of the blue glow of a lightsaber and was relieved. “I see you’ve taken an interest in my Padawan.”

Luke sat up, pretending to hold his head and look dazed.

“Not particularly, General Kenobi.” Din replied with authority, shrugging.

Obi Wan settled into a defensive position as he moved to help Luke up. When Luke lit his lightsaber, his grandfather turned back to Din.

“Your Padawan is formidable, however. Many of your young are easy targets.” Din added, seeming unable to help himself as he held his spear out in front of him. His aura was an apologetic baby blue.

Obi Wan’s eye twitched at the subtle threat. Luke wasn’t sure Din had mentioned it as a threat, however. Perhaps more as a cautionary warning. However Luke knew that the threat aspect of the comment was probably for appearances sake.

“You’ll find the younger Jedi are more well trained than you may realize.” Obi Wan replied, stone faced. The threat was clear; underestimate the Padawans to your doom.

Then, Obi Wan struck first, assisted by the Force-  slashing left and right to engage Din’s spear before going in for a clean strike near Din’s collarbones. Luke watched in horror as the slash burned through a stripe of skin there, and he could only watch as Din’s aura flared up with deep, angry, blood red scarlet.

He realized with horror that he might have to watch his grandfather and Mandalorian enemy-turned-friend fight in a rough tustle. Luke knew the Mandalorians utilized anger in battle, and if Obi Wan fuelled it enough Din might actually consider maiming him too.

Luke couldn’t do anything to separate them without painting himself as knowing Din. So he walked a short ways away and engaged a nearby Mandalorian in combat and called out to Obi Wan- trying to get his grandfather to stop fighting his friend and come help him fight this random Mandalorian. Luke tried to make it convincing, and relief flooded his senses when Obi Wan came to his aid- leaving Din panting and blessedly alone in the middle of the battlefield.

Later, when they had made it back to the Jedi base, Obi Wan had eyed Luke’s new mask- fully noticing it for the first time.

“New accessory?” Obi Wan remarked. Luke tried to keep his breath steady as he removed the mask, keeping a lid on his rising anxiety.

“Yeah.” Luke replied nonchalantly. His heart pounded. “I didn’t want to ruin my pretty face.”

Obi Wan chuckled. “Fair enough, my young Padawan. Fair enough.”

Luke relaxed, a small relieved smile finding its way onto his face.

“I like the design. A Krayt Dragon was very creative of you.”

“Thank you Master.” Luke bowed minutely with his head and shoulders only to respect the compliment.

“I would try to warn you about the dangers of vanity, but I’m well aware that it would probably go right over your head.” Obi Wan added. The unspoken ‘because it goes over your father’s too’ was communicated with a small appraising glance from his grandfather.

“You know me too well.” He sighed as if it was an effort to, but he couldn't help the small fond smile. 

They passed the mess hall as Obi Wan directed them towards the residential wing.

“I’m not sure you would have issues with vanity, though.  Given the grey hair and everything, huh, grandfather?” Luke joked, and Obi Wan shot him an affronted look, a surprised snort of laughter following.

“Take that back right now.” Obi Wan warned, a large smile that bellied possible laughter filling his face.

Luke’s grin grew wider as he stood on his tiptoes to card through Obi Wan’s hair, pretending to look for grey hairs. “Hmm… I don’t know, Master…”

Obi Wan started laughing as he swatted his grandson-in-the-Force away.

“My dear, must you be so blunt about it?” Obi Wan admonished long-sufferingly, beaming fondly. Amusement shone bright in his eyes as they walked the halls of the Jedi base.

Chapter Text

In the middle of the base of the Jedi on Mandalore, there’s a courtyard.

It’s not as large, or as grand and lively as the one at the Great Temple, but the square of fresh air is enough to feel relieving.

The courtyard had been fabricated as soon as the walls of the military base had gone up. It was the oldest part of the fairly new, but war battered, building.

This particular space had been fabricated to remind the Jedi of home. Of the Great Temple.

All it did was make the Jedi, as a collective, homesick.

The beautiful but bare courtyard had been avoided like the plague, only used for spiritual reasons. It was empty and the fabricated stones that had been laid on top of the sandy ground had the occasional weed sprouting. No one bothered to uproot them.

The weeds grew taller.

There were no windows in the four walls of the space that would have otherwise provided a peek into the inner workings of the hallways that surrounded the courtyard; the greying white cement walls also empty of scripture.

The emptiness of the walls chased everyone away. When people visited, their skin crawled with the urge to cry. To finally admit to Force how heavy this war was weighing on their soul and how much they wanted to go back home to Coruscant.

This was a space for the deepest of soul searchers. Obi Wan liked to meditate with Luke here.

This supposed sanctuary was a constant reminder. Home but not home.

Despite all that, however, there was a singular tree which grew merrily in the very centre.

The tree was tall and grand; and it watched over the warring Jedi like a wizened old friend.

Although the Jedi tried to forget about the lonely courtyard, the tree saw them through their grief. In their love and yearning, in their struggle and pain.

In their joy too, as birthdays often got celebrated in the courtyard. In the lonely hours studying by studious Padawan learners.

As Luke walked barefoot, his shoes sitting at the doorway waiting for him, down the steps that ringed the four walls of the open-aired space, he was met with that tree.

The tree had no name. Luke wasn’t even sure of what genus the tree was or where it was from, or how it got there.  

All that Luke knew, was that each time he had come to seek solace in the tree, it had been there for him. Steady and unyielding, all-encompassing in its support.

Like the Force.

Luke had first found this courtyard when they had had the funeral for one of his friends in it. They had been part of Luke’s youngling cohort.

He’d stayed long after the funeral had ended, and long into the night, tears watering the courtyard weeds.

It was then that Luke had first asked the question that all the Jedi that lived and fought on Mandalore had been asking the Force since the war began; chorus by chorus.

Why? Why them? What had the Jedi done that deserved such persecution?

His fellow classmate had never done anything to deserve their sudden end at the end of a stray Mandalorian slugthrower. Their death had been slow and painful, and Luke could still remember the sheer pain that had washed over him as he had tried to bring his friend to safety. He remembered washing their blood off of his hands after his friend had bled out in them. Feeling as if he may as well have shot his friend himself- he hadn’t contributed to finding a solution to the war. The sticky, horrible feeling of guilt not washing out no matter many times he washed his hands.

They all had a part to play in this war. This was a truth Luke had not yet discovered at the time.

What was so radical about hope? About peace? Why was death the cost when everyone should agree? Weren’t people still fundamentally people?

Or were the Mandalorians something else entirely?

The tree had remained steady and silent, supporting in his grief. There with each tidal wave of it.

Luke hadn’t wanted to burden anyone with his pain. He knew that Jedi weren’t supposed to feel this deeply; or this intensely. That to let go was the Jedi way.

But how could Luke let this go when it had rocked his very foundations? Was peace with Mandalore even attainable?

Obi Wan had later helped him rediscover the path of the Jedi. Reminding Luke that the choices of the Mandalorians were theirs alone. Their bigotry was not his fault.

His grandfather had also revealed and admitted to Luke that in reality… all Jedi felt this deeply.

It was a side effect of being connected to the whole universe. To tap into to the life force of every living being was to tap into a depth of feeling that non-Force-sensitives would never be able to comprehend.

Luke stood at the base of the tree from the north entrance. The sun was setting, and it was making the closed buds of the white flowers on the tree look alight with flame.

The rays of sun creeped in, slowly but surely. His Padawan braid swayed with a passing breeze.

He could feel the weeds and stones underneath his bare feet. He felt connected to the nature around him.

Luke could hear people practicing using a music ball and a lyre. He had caught a glimpse of Master Fisto and Plo Koon sitting on the south steps with their instruments in hand as he had entered, and the sight and sound of them practicing their instruments brought him back to the days he had spent here studying.

In front of Luke sat a large bowl propped up by a pedestal. The bowl was shallow but wide, and water sat within it. There were a couple flowers already floating in the water, and Luke bowed with his head to pay respect.

Luke looked at the tree, his steady gaze a greeting, and fell back into self-reflection as he felt the purity and clarity of the surrounding Force.

He had long since accepted the duality and balance of the Force. It had been a hard pill to swallow for a long time, but it had taken Obi Wan’s steady tutoring and guidance to finally understand it fully.

For there to be light, there must be dark.

For there to be peace, there must be chaos.

For there to be knowledge, there must be ignorance.

Luke knew now that the ignorance of the Mandalorian populace had been their one mistake that had led them to this war. It was the truth, but it didn’t make it any easier to digest.

For there to be knowledge, there must be ignorance.

Luke sighed, feeling the weight and burden of his role in the galaxy as he scanned the tree’s budding flora. He used the Force to call five flower buds to him that looked just about ready to bloom.

He coaxed them with the Force, one by one; pouring his care for those he loved into them until the buds opened.

Luke still remembered each of their names.

How could he not? He’d only lost five friends to this war. All of them had been Padawans from his youngling cohort, only a year into the rank.

Others had lost even more people. Luke could only imagine how many. There were afternoon funerals in the courtyard often enough.

But those he had lost hurt. It was a familiar ache that tugged at the very bottom of his stomach and deep within his heart. Threatening to drag him under. Sometimes… Luke was just clinging on. Most times, he stood above the whirlpool of it all.

Luke gazed down at the now-blossomed flowers in his hand. Some were white with yellow splashed in the centre. Some had pink rather than yellow.  

He held his cupped hands of flowers to his forehead as a sign of respect.

Then, Luke gathered the blooms into his left hand, picking up one in his right.

Devan. He placed the pink centred bloom into the water gently. It bobbed with the movement.

Luke reached for another. Emesyn.

It floated in the water. He hoped that whatever part of the Force Emesyn had joined, she was rolling her eyes at him for the pink flower instead of the yellow one.

Aris. Luke placed his last yellow centred bloom into the bowl with care.

He reached for another, repeating the gesture. Mara.

Luke was up to his last flower.

Janae.

As he stared at the bobbing flowers, he felt the question he had been pushing down for so long break free from within himself.

How could he be friends with someone who had a hand in their deaths?

Luke felt the way his eyes filled before he felt the tears. The heaviness of his under eyes that seemed to carry the weight of the fate of the Jedi.

The heartache washed over him like a sandstorm, and he clutched at the last flower like it was all he had. The certainty of his friends deaths the only true reality; all of what Luke held to be true tossing and turning like an angry river in a tropical storm.

With this promise of peace, would he have to leave behind any traditional idea of justice for his friends?

Luke knew there was more to this than what was making his heart ache so intensely that he had bent in on himself a little where he stood. But he had to ask the question. He knew that Din hadn’t wanted this war. That he was trying his best to end it.

That every Jedi life he may have taken was with regret.

Luke caught himself. Din must have the same questions about Luke.

Had Luke regretted every Mandalorian murder? Or did he see it as justice? As part of the cause?

Luke was just as responsible for the deaths of Din’s tribe friends as Din was for the deaths of Luke’s youngling cohort friends.

If they forgot that…

If they held each other responsible for that, then they may as well kiss their promise of peace goodbye.

As Luke gazed up at the tree in the middle of the yard; the constant and forgiving tree that had been Luke’s company for so much of his soul-searching.

The tree had forgiven him for doubting the Force when he was sure the council would not.

Luke decided that while he could not absolve Din of the blame for having a hand in their deaths; he could forgive him.

Forgive him because he couldn’t do anything to stop the immenseness of war. He was just one man against a tide of bigoted Mandalorians, all with a variety of reasons for being a part of the Jedi slaughter.

Forgive him because although he could’ve tried to refuse his part in the war, even he would not be able to fight the inevitable.

Forgive him because he was doing all that he could; all that could think up, to find a way to a seat of power that he hadn’t wanted in the first place. Not for himself, but for the good of everyone.

Forgive a selfless man who was just trying his best.

Luke placed the last flower into the bowl, feeling centred. His eyes prickled with tears that were equal parts sorrow and relief.

“I forgive you, Din Djarin.” Luke breathed, murmuring his truth to the tree that had watched over him throughout his Padawanship. “I forgive you.”

Luke had the strength to forgive when no one could.

He was their last hope at ending this war without further sacrifice.

The Force around the tree, unbeknownst to Luke, rippled with the pride of those who had passed on.

Someone had finally found the strength to let go.

Founded in love, cemented by principle.

Chapter Text

“Hey… how are you feeling?” Luke asked after Din had picked up his call. “I mean, I know you said that you had dealt with the wound… but…”

I worry… Luke found himself trailing to himself in his head, and shook it off. It was perfectly reasonable to be concerned.

“Luke, I’m fine.” Din huffed over the phone. His voice was crisp and clear, and Luke surmised from that that he must of had his helmet off. “Gods, you’re worse than my buir at this point.”

He found that he liked Din’s voice now that he could actually hear it properly. It was rich and deep; gruffy with the years spent playing battle hardened bounty hunter but tinged with velvet that felt like a warm hug.

Luke rolled his eyes, a small and fond smile he hadn’t registered yet on his face as he did so. He played absently with the fabric of his sleeve. “You should be grateful that I care.”

Din sighed indulgently at him over the phone, and there was something domestic about it that made Luke think back to the time spent in Din’s room with him.

“I am grateful. I really am; but harassing me about how it is isn’t going to make it magically better. The bacta patches are working, alright?” Din grumbled.

“Alright. I just feel really bad about it… that’s all.” Luke admitted, wandering around his room in search of something small and mindless to occupy him while he was talking on his comm.

Din chuckled. “Really? It’s not your fault, Luke.”

“Well he’s my grandfather, after all. If I’d’ve known he was going to try and hurt you; I would’ve never approached you.”

Luke heard a harumph over the phone and raised his eyebrow at Din, despite knowing Din couldn’t see him.

“If I showed you what it looked like, would you feel a little better about it?” Din asked after a bit, seeming to give in to something.

Surprise at the invitation hit him like a brick. Luke blinked, trying to work out what that was supposed to mean. There were multiple connotations to the invite.

“Well I can’t exactly come over right now, you know that. Obi Wan and Anakin would kill me if I got stuck there again.” Luke reminded gently.

“That’s not what I mean.” Din laughed at him, voice far away from the comm mic.

“Then?” Luke asked, but then remembered that holovid calling was a thing when Din turned his camera on moments later. His helmet bobbed in the camera view. He must’ve just put it on.

Luke cringed, annoyed at himself for missing what Din had meant.

“Now do you get it?” Din asked, his voice muffled by the helmet, and Luke could sense the amusement laced through the question.

“Yes.” Luke sighed. “No need to laugh at me for it.”

Din snorted. “I have no idea what you’re talking about, mesh’la.”

“Or be rude, for that matter.” Luke added, before realizing that Din could see him too once they had switched to holovid and that he wasn’t quite holovid call appropriate. He’d just had an afternoon nap and his hair was a mess.

They fell into silence as Luke raked a hand through his hair to try get it more presentable. It dawned on Luke that this was their first holovid call since they had exchanged holocomm frequencies. A sense of awkward jitters crashed into him as they stared across the holocomm channel.

Din held the camera closer to his helmet and angled it so Luke could see the white bacta patch that stretched across the width of his collarbone.

“There. See?”

Luke held the holocomm closer to get a clearer look at it. It looked alright. It didn’t look infected or anything, but he could bet it was still painful.

“Do you think it’ll scar, or?”

Din cocked his head, seeming unsure. “The medical droid and the doctor both said there was a chance it might.”

“Right.” Luke felt guilt pool in his stomach again, feeling acidic and horrible.

He fell silent.

“It’s not your fault, you know that right?” Din tried again, seeming genuine and it made Luke’s heart ache.

“How is it not my fault, Din? He’s my grandfather. He only approached you because I did.” Luke stated incredulously.

“Well I don’t blame you. General Kenobi was going to approach me whether or not you were there, anyway.” Din shrugged.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Luke demanded.

“It means that I’ve noticed him take an interest in me lately, and that he’s been trying to fight me whenever he sees me more often than not.” Din explained wryly.

“Oh.” Luke’s guilt and incredulity faded. “Alright. I see your point.”

Luke smiled at Din, and he got the feeling Din was smiling back at him from under the helmet. He couldn’t read auras through tech.

They fell back into momentary silence as Luke basked in the simple joy that their banter had brought him.

“How’s the sun hat?” Din asked out of the blue, a softness to his voice that Luke felt warm at.

“Sun hat? What in the galaxy are you talking about?” Luke joked, pretending to not understand the question.

Din rolled his eyes dramatically, his helmet lolling. “The sun hat that you said you’d buy with my money.”

“Oh. That… Yeah I didn’t buy one.” Luke lied playfully, knowing full well that the sun hat was in the frame and that Din could see it hanging on Luke’s chair.

“Sure you didn’t.” Din laughed. Luke grinned mischievously and left it at that. If he tried to deny it further, he knew Din would accuse him of growing soft.

There was a knock on the door, and Luke turned to look. He ignored it.

The knocking continued.

“Luke! I know you’re in there.” Leia’s voice singsong-ed through the door.

Luke cursed under his breath. “I’ve got to go-” “Yeah I get it, don’t worry-“

Something made Luke pause despite his sister about to break down the door so they could have dinner together. Chest warm, the Force surrounding him in lazy circles; he caught the soft moment that Din seemed almost… shy?

“Talk later, yeah?” Luke added, keeping his voice low, care creeping into his voice as if it was just the two of them.

“You know I’ll need an update on how you are.” He added after realizing he had gotten caught up in something that had been plaguing him more recently. He pushed the enormity of feeling down. Luke would not let whatever it was that was drawing him back to Din consume him.

Din looked up from the holocomm and into the camera, looking straight at Luke.

“Yeah. I wouldn’t deny you your doting.”

Luke made a face at Din and ended the call. It was only after he had sat down in the mess hall with Leia that he realized he was still smiling.

Luke couldn't get his time spent with Din out of his head. 

At first, he had slid back into his old routine with ease, the only sign of his stint with the Mandalorians the slightly off kilter feeling he couldn't push away. 

Now, though, everything he did he was haunted by those three weeks. The other day he had spent ten minutes staring at the hygiene cabinet in his refresher, trying to place what felt weird about it. He still didn't know. He missed the hot water showers from last week- sonic showers just weren't as delightful.

Lining up for food at the mess hall, the other Jedi laughing and enjoying their time off together, Luke felt a little bereft now at the blandness of the food- already little more used to the spices of weeks ago than he should be. Luke found himself picking up the chilli sauce and adding a generous amount to his rice as he moved to sit with his grandfather. 

He didn't know if anyone noticed how off he felt. It didn't make sense- why would the russet tones of last week chase him into this one, colouring all of the things he thought of as the comforts of home... a little differently than before? 

Was it because he had felt such a sense of ease during the time spent in Din's room, no one expecting anything of him except to just be? Was there something more in this feeling of strangeness? 

And as Luke lay awake at night, the room suddenly a little too dark for his taste, his heart panged with an unnamed feeling he couldn't place. It was enormous and had a gravity of its own. He kept slipping into it, and that terrified him. It kept him awake, and Luke clutched his shoulders well into the night, attempting to figure out where it had come from. 

Luke didn't know what to do, how to deal with this new ache he wasn't sure what the cause of was. When he meditated his vision was clouded by silver and earthy red, a strange feeling of centred-ness filling him up. It distracted him, and he ended up pondering the Mandalorian and Jedi political divide for hours. 

He drowned himself in study, training harder than he ever had before. Leia often had to drag him out to get dinner when he got so immersed in his studies that he didn’t know what time it was. Obi Wan had been driven up the wall by his sudden studiousness; his eyes analytical and curious as he corrected Luke’s kata forms and political quizzes.

One day, about a few weeks into this self-inflicted study regimen, Leia banged her way into his room.

Luke was used to this, and let her clang her way around the room, doing various things. Usually she settled into his bed and read something on her datapad. It was what she usually did to get away from her shared room with Ahsoka when their father and her were messing around in there.

This time, however. Leia came over and unplugged his terminal. Luke was shocked out of his study stupor.

“What the farrick?” Luke cried out, jumping up immediately and reaching for the power cable that Leia had in hand. She evaded him easily. “Leia…”

“No.” Leia said simply, pushing Luke away from the computer terminal and dropping the cable.

Luke tried to get back to the terminal to no avail. Leia blocked the terminal with her arms crossed and stared him down.

He growled in frustration, crossing his arms as well. “What is this about?”

“What is this about? Hm...” Leia pretended to think about it for a moment, tapping a pointer finger to her lips thoughtfully. “I don’t know, you tell me, Luke.”

Luke found himself put on the spot for an answer. “Uhhh…”

“You know what, no. A better question is: why are you working yourself into the ground?” Leia demanded, hands on her hips and clearly not budging.

He didn’t have an explanation. Luke stood there silently, fidgeting. He’d never been a great liar, and Leia would know immediately if he tried.

But how could he explain that he was avoiding the strange jittery feeling he felt every time his mind wandered back to his time spent with a certain prince of Mandalore? How could he explain that he needed to keep a lid on it and never dwell on it long enough to conclude whether the feeling was from a fear of Mandalorians… or of something else entirely. Of something he'd been warned about over and over again to avoid. Although he had thought his fear had disappeared during his three week Mandalorian meet and greet, he wasn’t sure what else to think about it. He was worried he wasn’t going to like what me may find.

They stood there for a while as Luke tried to come up with something, anything, before Leia got impatient at his silence. She let out a strangled groan that resembled a frustrated growl before pushing Luke towards his closet.

“Fine. If you don’t want to tell me, that’s fine. But we’re still going out tonight.” Leia ordered.

“Huh?!” Luke cried out in surprise.

“Ezra tells me that you’ve got an unregistered speeder stashed away, and I’m this close to beating your ass if you don’t relax. So you’re coming and we’re stealing your speeder.” Leia commanded, pushing Luke around.

“Leia, I’m fine-” Luke tried as he stumbled towards his bed.

“Like hell you are. I can practically feel whatever your working yourself up about from across the compound and that’s on a good day.” Leia snatched up his stick of eyeliner, which lay out on the worktable. She must’ve rifled through his things earlier when she had come in.  

Luke took in Leia’s striking figure, and the way she was staring him down with her hands on her hips and decided that she was going to be immovable on this matter. He gave in; because he knew that if his sister comes and tries to drag him out by his teeth to do something- Luke may as well accept that whatever it was is going to happen whether or not he wanted it to.

He sighed, taking the clothes Leia was offering him from her with more aggression than strictly necessary. “I hate you.”

Leia snorted at him, sitting on his bed and pulling out her holocomm to use as a mirror for putting some eyeliner on. “No you don’t.” she sang back.

“Also get your own eyeliner! Why’d you have to take mine?” He grumbled at her from the fresher.

He changed into the outfit Leia had picked out for him, staring at it in the mirror. The black v-neck shirt and black jeans really brought out his eyes when combined with the circular kyber crystal necklace Leia had bought him as an 18^th birthday present.

Maybe this wouldn’t be so bad after all.

“Ezra.” Leia whisper-called softly into the dark hallway, sensing his blueberry Force-signature nearby.

She was leaning out of Luke’s door, keeping an eye out for their troublemaker cousin while Luke put some eyeliner on. He was attempting to do it the way she had done hers and half succeeding.

Night had fallen and Leia was dressed to go out, looking graceful with the circular plaits that her mother had taught her to do and a white, v neck, dress. While Leia recognized it was never a great idea to wear white on a night out; the smooth knee length dress just accentuated her silhouette so well it would be weird not to wear it on a night out. It would be criminal.

White was also her colour. She had three good reasons to wear the dress, so no, Luke- she didn’t care that it was going to be hard to wash.

Leia, unlike Luke, had also never been worried about getting caught sneaking out. She had ways out of it, of course. She was also not the only one who sneaked out whenever she felt like it either- outside their little Jedi family, other Padawans had caught on to the secret of the small city just a stone’s throw away from Sundari.

The young daughter of an Ex-Queen and a current Senator of Naboo also had the dirt on most of the Jedi, and a lot of the Senators as well. Leia knew exactly what secret to use against anyone they came across, and that’s how the twins (and Ezra) had stayed out of trouble in their years growing up together.

She didn’t use the knowledge of everyone’s dirty laundry in a power hungry or malicious way. That had never been her intention with that kind of knowledge.

Leia just used it as a negotiating tool whenever she needed to, as Obi Wan used to. A gentle but powerful democratic tactic that even her mother used from time to time. The power of the truth was incredible at times, and there was nothing un-Jedi-like about seeking the truth.

At first, it had been just a habit of listening at doors and looking over people’s shoulders at inopportune moments. Leia’s curiosity had always been boundless and unrestrained.

The habit had mostly used to be because no one thought to tell her about what was going on. Citing her youth as a reason. It had only been her mother, her aunt and grandfather that had truly respected her maturity enough to explain everything to her with the infinite patience of deities.

But then, as she grew older and she grew into her charms- she realized how she could use them to get her way. Not in a malevolent way, it was more of an encouraging, extra something in her favour. The way she saw it; it was the will of the Force that she had the information she did.

Despite her good intentions, Leia did have a ruthless streak from time to time that only her father had. She shared the trait with Ahsoka and him at times.

She caught sight of Ezra, and beckoned to him across the darkened hallway. He crept into Luke’s dimly lit room.

“Glad you managed to convince him.” Ezra smirked once the door had closed.

“It was less convincing and more demanding.” Luke replied, throwing some shade in Leia’s direction. She shrugged.

“You need to do something other than work, Luke.” Leia lectured. Luke rolled his eyes.

“Yeah, Luke.” Ezra parroted mockingly with a growing smirk. “Let loose a little.”

“I hate you both. This is so just a ploy so you can get hammered.” Luke groaned, opening the window and jumping over his desk to hop out the window with his boots on. His lightsaber rattled in his boot. The other two Padawans followed.

“No,” Leia piped up and corrected. “This is just a ploy so that you can get hammered. I’m driving.”

Luke groaned loudly as Leia started the speeder up. Ezra’s laughter and Leia shushing them followed them into the drive over.

Luke found himself among the crowd of Uj’alayi before he knew it. The club was loud and thumping with music; people were drinking and laughing and shouting along at various intervals.

Leia had pressed drinks into his hands a couple times now. Every time he found her in the crowd again, she’d shove an ethanol based drink she was also drinking his way. Ezra did something similar; but mostly just let Luke take a swig of his drink.  

It wasn’t long until Luke found himself dancing along with the rest of the crowd, stress melting off his body like a wax outer coat being shucked off. He felt lighter and more connected with the crowd as he swayed. The Force sparkled and accompanied the excitement of the crowd, and it just added to Luke’s energy. It followed the crowd’s atmosphere as everyone swayed and danced and jumped in various levels of energy.

The best thing about this club, that Luke found, was how diverse it was. He was sure that clubs in the city were probably more diverse and lively than this one, and that this club had a lot of Mandalorian teenagers that had snuck out of the nearby villages. It was nice despite that.  

Still, everyone swirled around the pulsing heart of the crowd in various stages of inebriation. Everyone seemed to be having a good time, and Luke started to have one too.

Luke lost himself in the crowd. In the mix of all these people, he wasn’t ‘Luke Skywalker, son of Anakin Skywalker and Jedi Padawan’ or ‘Mandalorian enemy number one’…

He was just Luke. He was just someone in everyone else’s peripheral vision, and Luke let himself soak that feeling up and get entirely lost in it. Detached from himself; he lost count of how much he’d had to drink, and he let go of whatever he was trying to press down. A feeling of freedom filling him up and giving him the thrilling experience of flying. What was the point anyway, when he could feel this good? His body suffused with the warmth he'd been chasing all week with each sip he took. 

Luke barely registered when this cute Mandalorian villager boy started flirting with him. He flirted back on instinct and let the conversation carry him away to somewhere beyond everything that was stressing him. Luke still felt free and unburdened, and this guy was promising him a good time. He didn’t see an issue with it.

The crowd bounced on around him to the music, oblivious to it.

He later found himself being tugged into a public refresher, lip locked with the village stranger. Something about it filled a little bit of the void in Luke’s stomach and he pressed on, trying to find temporary solace in the mouth, jaw, and hands of this stranger. Luke was gasping for something he couldn't place- couldn't name, gripping on tightly to a stranger’s shoulders…

But why did this make him feel so guilty? Luke was just trying to chase this hole that somehow had grown in his chest- this something that had taken root in his absence from his own emotions. His detachment from himself to avoid whatever problem this was entirely. Why did it feel so wrong?

As if he had found the right problem, but the wrong person?

Chapter Text

Luke felt the intoxicating warmth in each movement, his heart pounding and the skin against skin of it felt electric.

He couldn’t help but associate the feeling to the same one he felt around Din… The sparks skipping across his skin and tingling their way down his spine…

Luke’s eyes widened, opening his eyes in realization, and his stomach dropped at the connection. He was thinking of Din while kissing this cute random guy. It was Din who Luke wanted to pull him into his lap and kiss him like there was no tomorrow. It was Din who he was pretending was sucking on his bottom lip and leaving him gasping against the other’s mouth; just the way this guy was.

He was attributing all of this to Din. It all crashed down on Luke in a dizzying rush. He’d unconsciously picked a Mandalorian boy around his own age with a similar build to Din to flirt back to and the similarities were not lost on Luke.

All of a sudden Luke’s stomach filled with dread. With a sharp, jagged, and black feeling that stilled his ministrations. He stopped dead; fumbling.

Luke pulled away, scrambling, and the guy chased his retreating neck with his lips for a moment before catching his gaze and seeing the warning in it. He stopped.

“I…” Luke started panicking, starting to hyperventilate. He needed out all of a sudden. He needed to stop. He needed to leave he needed to get away- Luke felt sick and completely nauseous- “I’m sorry.” Luke admitted miserably, his voice wavery and off kilter from the alcohol. Teary from the panic; feeling pathetic. What if this guy demanded that Luke continue?

The villager guy watched Luke carefully before shifting away for a moment.

“It’s alright. Do you not want this anymore?” The guy asked cautiously, and sat away from Luke from where they were on the refresher floor. Luke nodded yes furiously, tears streaming down his face now. He scrambled to scoot away from the Mandalorian villager guy.

“I’m sorry.” Luke tried again, wiping his eyes in a futile attempt to pretend to be okay. His eyeliner was running and he bet he looked like a wreck.

“Do you want to talk about it?” The Mandalorian villager guy asked kindly, and Luke shook his head yes- stuck between wanting to explain some of the situation and trying to keep it to himself.

They sat on the floor of the public refresher for a bit as the villager guy gave Luke some space to breath. Luke calmed a little bit before trying.

“I think… I think I made a mistake with this…” Luke tried to explain, clutching at his own arms in a desperate defensive gesture. “I think I was thinking of someone else…”

The guy sighed, a little frustrated. “You don’t owe me an explanation-”

“I know, but… I’m sorry. This was a mistake.” Luke got up, unbalanced and wobbly- his vision swimming. He was shaking uncontrollably all over, and he could barely find the button to open the door.

He might have had too much to drink.

Leia??????? Luke asked mentally through the Force, assigning the panic he felt to the message and trying to make his way through the crowd. He wobbled and swayed and he couldn’t stop the tears as they fell from his eyes. People gave him a wide berth as he searched.

Luke suddenly felt more alone than he had ever felt in his life. How could anyone understand the depth to which this terrified him?

He was glad for the kyber crystal amplifier around his neck when the answer came right back to him.

KRIFF. Where are you?!

All Luke could think of was his sister, knowing that she would be there for him. He was a wreck and panicking over his sudden realization and if he didn’t get back to his room soon he knew he might just break down in front of all these people.

I… I don’t know- Luke thought to himself, getting more panicked when he didn’t quite know where he was in the crowd. He didn’t have the vocabulary to describe where he was given his current predicament.

Shit- A fresh wave of tears ripped through him and he had to lean against a wall at the intensity of it.

“Karking hell, there you are.” He heard Ezra from somewhere. He sounded like he was in a wind tunnel though, far away… Luke felt dazed and unsure of what was going on- all that he was sure of was that he needed to get out and that he was terrified of the newfound realization that he might have feelings for a certain Prince of Mandalore.

Ezra grabbed his arm and directed him through the crowd; clearly not as inebriated as Luke was.

“Luke!!” Leia called out, seeming frantic. “Thank the Force.”

She pulled him close in a sisterly embrace and settled the tab. Her hand in his was a tether to reality that kept his terror at the brink of overflowing. He focused on the gesture and the way her thumb was gently moving in a comforting ministration their mother used to use with them as kids.

Then, she dragged them all out of the club and into the speeder.

“Shit, you look like a wreck.” Leia cursed, scanning him up and down and hopping into the driver’s seat. Ezra plopped him down in the backseat and kept watch to make sure he put a belt on.

“I know how to put a belt on myself, you know-” Luke grumbled petulantly, and Ezra laughed.

“Not drunk you won’t. Here.” Ezra leaned over the front seat and carefully helped him while Leia started the speeder. Ezra turned and did his own belt before turning back to check on Luke.

“You feeling ok there, bud?”

Luke frowned, rubbing at his under eyes at the dried wet eyeliner that was stuck there now. It felt grimy and horrible.

He didn’t know what to say to Ezra. He felt like crying again. Luke could feel his eyes filling up with tears, but he didn’t know how to explain it to Ezra. He wasn’t sure Ezra would understand him in this state.

Luke just wanted his sister. He knew that once he started trying to tell Leia about it- everything would feel better. She’d understand- she always did.

He’d never been good at keeping things from Leia, and despite being drunk… he felt ready to tell her now. Like he had the whole picture.

Luke’s padawan braid whipped in the wind behind them. Ezra’s tickled his face as he leaned forward to lay his forehead on Ezra’s shoulder. Luke could feel Leia’s padawan braid tickling his ear where it hung at her left.

The night was their partner in crime as they raced on home. 

Ezra disappeared off with little ceremony in order to creep back to his room. Caleb, his master and roommate, was probably still asleep- but he needed to scout the situation before returning. Luke understood. Ezra always did this after they snuck out.

Leia, however, promised to take care of her now drunk brother and was shoving him towards the shower to no avail.

“Leia…” Luke drawled, stopping at the threshold of the fresher.

“What?” Leia looked up from where she was figuring out something for herself to wear to bed.

“I… I think I like someone.” Luke finally admitted, tears filling his eyes. It all weighed down on him and this added panic had been one extra weight too many.

He was so, so tired.

And so, so terrified of what this might mean for him as a Jedi. 

Leia quirked an eyebrow at him. “Okay. That’s not horrible news. Thanks for telling me, though.”

Luke rubbed at his eyes, gulping. The tears started to spill over and he let out a dry sob.

“Oh dear.” Leia gentled, eyes softening. She rushed up to him and gave him a long and hard hug. Luke buried himself in Leia’s steady shoulder.

It was the hug that did it. There was something about the pure unadulterated care and love in the hug that always did it when he was upset.

Luke broke down, and once the tears started- they would not stop.

“Hey…” Leia said softly. “What’s the problem?”

“I think I like someone and it’s really scaring me, Leia. I…” Luke choked out, his heart pounding and stomach twisted with the anxiety that filled him up. His heart filled with dread- weighed down with stones. “I’m terrified of how big it is and… fuck-”

Leia tsked comfortingly, just as their mother often did when they were upset. She rubbed circles into his shoulders and just held him and Luke just knew he was going to be okay as long as she was with him.

“You have no reason to be scared, Luke… you know about our family. We’ve never… been the strictest to the code.” Leia reminded gently.

Luke gulped, tears escaping the corners of his eyes. He could feel the trail they followed into Leia’s shoulder. She didn’t care.

“I know. That’s what makes it so scary… Leia I don’t want to have to hide all the time, and…” Luke let out- the frustration and pain he felt at having to hide his family on a day to day basis for eighteen years running seeping out into Leia’s shoulder too. “What if I lose myself in this feeling? What if I forget the Force? Would I… would I lose all that makes me me? That’s terrifying, Leia- what if I forget who I am- what if I lose myself to the dark side with this? What would I become?”

Nightmarish scenarios came to Luke’s mind of him consumed by the dark side, of him slaughtering innocent people because he was just so far gone with this feeling that he had forgotten himself. He drowned in the possibility, finding it hard to breathe and choking on it.

Leia pulled him tighter, his pain and panic clearly tugging at her heart strings. Her heart ached at her brother’s pain.

Leia chuckled, however, trying to seem calm- if she started crying, then Luke wouldn’t stop crying until she stopped crying. “Luke, you’re not going to forget who you are. Don’t be silly.”

She pulled away to look Luke in the eye. “And if you ever find yourself forgetting or slipping to the dark side. Even for a moment. I’ll be here to remind you of who you are.”

Luke looked Leia in the eye, soul lightening. The tears slowed.

His voice was small and vulnerable as he reached out to his sister. The girl he couldn’t imagine living without because that might just break him.

“Promise?”

He held out a singular, shaky, pinkie. Leia giggled at him.

She sighed fondly, clasping her pinkie to his and giving it a shake. “Cross my heart and hope to die.”

They shared a small smile of childish joy. The type of silly, unadulterated joy that was never lost or grown out of between siblings.

“And besides… Anakin hasn’t lost himself to the dark side yet, and neither has Aunt Ahsoka or Caleb. You’ll be fine- just as our ancestors were fine. We got those tattoos for a reason, remember?” Leia added, rolling up her sleeve to reveal two, black and thin, arm band lines tattooed on her upper right arm. It was the same tattoo that Luke, Anakin and Obi Wan shared.

It was a reminder of the fact that having attachments did not make them any less of Jedi.

Every fear Luke had about these newfound feelings deflated. Leia’s got him, and Luke had Leia, so what did he truly have to worry about?  His family’s blood and spirit ran through his veins- his lineage had such a capacity for love that this had been just a given. It was bound to happen.

“You’ll be okay. I’m here for you; dumbass.” Leia sighed, a silly smile on her face.

They stood like that for a while. Leia swayed a little in reassuring little circles, and slowly Luke felt alright to let her go as the tears dried up.

When Luke did, Leia smiled at him, patting his shoulder. “Go shower, stinky.”

Luke went to shower with just a petulant pout in retort.

Later, Leia demanded to know the all the juicy details of this sudden suitor. They sat in a self-made blanket burrito in Luke’s bed in a dark room. It was early in that ‘should be considered late but is technically early’ type of way.

Luke told her everything. It spilled over like a cup overflowing, and it felt as natural as a river flowing into a waterfall with Leia.

All of it. The fear, the politics, the joy, the thrill, the way Luke felt like a ship going into hyperspace every time Din bantered with him. The way Luke felt unsteady but in a beautifully intoxicating way when they sparred, and finally…

When Luke had spent all of his words trying to capture everything that had happened to him with Din, Leia pulled him into a long hug.

They fell asleep the same way they used to when they were young and on a ship with hyperspace turbulence.

Together.

Luke woke to the sound of clattering and thumping.

“What the karking shit? R2???” Luke called out, his eyes still shut and his head throbbing to high heaven. The stomping continued. “What does Anakin want now? What the fuck?!”

“Rise and shine, sleeping beauty.” A feminine voice teased in a grouchy voice. Luke surmised it was Leia.

He groaned loudly, rolling over and smushing his face into his pillow.

“Uh, no you don’t.” Leia immediately replied with indignation, ripping his blanket off of him. “Get your bitchass up.”

“Leiaaaa-” Luke whined, annoyed. His head was still disoriented and spacey- it hurt.

“No. Don’t try that cutesy shit on me.”

“But… c’mon… I have a hangover-” Luke pleaded. “It’s literally your fault my head hurts.”

“No, it’s not. The plan was to get you reasonably tipsy and then we all go home happy. I hadn’t taken into account Ezra slipping you some of his drink too.” Leia countered, grabbing his arm and pulling on it. Luke tried to keep his eyes closed and cling to his bed so as to not be forcibly evicted from it and face the pain of the morning light.

He lost on both accounts; tumbling to the floor. Luke let out an undignified shriek as he thumped to the floor, his eyes open now. The light burned and his head was agony.

“There.” Leia smirked, hands on her hips and clearly proud of herself for getting him out of bed. Luke huffed in response, burrowing back into himself to avoid the painful light once more.

“Oh for fucks sake-” Leia grumbled. She picked his head up with her spare hand before pushing a cup into his hand. “Here.”

Luke looked down at it with a long sigh. He took a long gulp of the vaguely berry flavoured purple concoction. He knew it was a hydration and salt tablet, but he loathed having to drink it. It didn’t taste horrible, per say, it just felt slightly ridiculous that he had to use it.

Leia called a packet of something to her, and it flew into her hand from across the room. She opened the packet and popped out a couple pills, handing them to him. Luke took them without question, already knowing it was painkillers.

“Thanks.” Luke muttered. Leia rolled her eyes with a fond smile. She was dressed, her long hair flowing and out- she’d obviously stolen some clothing off him, and Luke couldn’t help rolling his eyes at it. The beige shirt and pants set were baggy on her, but he knew she liked it like that.

“Now stop complaining and come on. We’ve got to catch breakfast. They’ve got pancakes and I will kill youif we’ve slept through them.” Leia offered him her arm to get up with, and he took it.

“I can’t believe you care more about pancakes than your own brother.” Luke grumbled, flipping her the bird- which she gleefully returned.

It was Saturday, a weekend, and on weekends they got the more unhealthy breakfasts like pancakes and waffles as a treat for surviving the week. Leia loved pancakes, and had once threatened a guy’s life over getting the last pancakes from the mess hall.

It had been a sight to see.

After Luke had changed and cleaned his teeth, the painkillers and hydration tablet kicked in. He definitely felt more human now that his head wasn’t throbbing like an EDM song from his worst nightmare.

They got to the mess hall while breakfast was still in full swing. Jedi sat in groups talking animatedly or trying to cold start their brain with caf, clearly enjoying their breakfast. Luke scanned the room to see if his father, aunt or grandfather had gotten up yet but didn’t find them at any of the tables.

This was typical of them, however, and Luke sighed ruefully. He could’ve slept in as well if Leia hadn’t shoved him off of his own bed for pancakes of all things.

Leia got her pancakes, and thus saved Luke from being skinned alive by his own twin sister. They picked up some extra pancakes to bring to the family members who weren’t present (and who would probably miss breakfast.) Leia sneaked bites out of the pancakes reserved for them, as usual.

Leia was still avoiding her room, because she was sure Ahsoka was still asleep and didn’t want to wake her. Ahsoka… had a habit of roasting people when she was cranky in the morning, and as much as everyone loved her- they avoided the early morning roasting session from her as much as possible.

With that in mind; Luke and Leia went back to Luke’s room together, spare food in hand. They knew that their father, grandfather and aunt would wander in eventually and ask whether they had anything to eat.

Leia sat herself down on Luke’s bed right after he had straightened it up. He shot her a glare but left it at that.

They sat in comfortable silence as they caught up on whatever messages they had missed during their little adventure, scrolling through their holocomms. Luke felt his heart skip a beat at the notifications of missed texts from Din, and took notice of the feeling.

Yup, definitely felt that before.

He felt like such an idiot for not seeing it earlier. The little smiles that he couldn’t control, the way he lingered on Din’s conversations, the fact that Luke had a nickname for Din… It all screamed of something more than just simple feelings of friendship that he wouldn’t be surprised if his family hadn’t caught wind of it already.

“Luke.” Leia called out. Luke looked up from his holocomm, leaving Din’s text unanswered. “Yeah?”

“Come here. I need your help with my hair.” Leia asked, combing a hand through her long and flowy hair. She’d taken it out last night when Luke had taken a shower. Apparently plaits hurt a lot if left in when trying to sleep.

“Alright.” Luke sighed as if it was an effort, getting up from his desk to sit on the bed with his sister.

Leia frowned. “I helped you; so now you’ve gotta help me. Deal with it.”

“Yeah I know. I want to, I’m just joking around.” Luke chuckled. “Tell me what to do.”

Leia did. She directed him through what kind of design she wanted, and Luke got to it- hands in her hair and weaving separated strands together. It was therapeutic, and put his mind at ease.

“So… how’s sexy mando prince, then?” Leia teased, laughter in her tone.

Luke groaned. “That is not how I described him. Tell me that’s not how I described him last night.”

Leia laughed at him. “You didn’t. It was worse.”

Luke gawked in indignation.

“Way worse.” Leia continued with a grin. “I’m going to have so much blackmail on you it’ll last months.”

“Shit.” Luke cursed, groaning again. “Fucking hell. I never should’ve gone.”

Leia laughed at his suffering. “Language.” She reminded, and Luke knew she was bullshitting. Leia swore more than he did.

“That’s rich coming from you.” Luke muttered under his breath.

“What did you say?!” Leia exclaimed in indignation.

“Nothing.” Luke quickly replied to remedy the situation.

“That’s what I thought.” Leia sniffed.

Luke sighed, deciding to answer Leia’s original question. “He’s alright, I guess. Just dealing with princely duties.”

He knew Leia was smirking. It was just his sibling radar that told him.

“I know you’re enjoying this.” Luke huffed. Leia shrugged innocently.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

Luke focussed on her hair. He was almost finished the intricate design she’d had him do.

“You know that I’m here for you, right?” Leia asked him out of the blue.

He searched her face from where he sat behind her. “Huh? Yeah, of course I do.”

“Good.” Leia relaxed. “I love you, and… I’m proud of you for being so strong about your whole situation.”

Luke smiled, finishing off the hairdo with one of his sister’s hairpins that she’d left in his room ages ago. It was topped with a small emerald that could only be seen if you really looked for it. It was the perfect subtle but beautiful hair accessory; and Luke just knew that it had been a gift from his mother. It worked well with Jedi humility standards, as well as looked graceful and beautiful on his sister when she used it. Only their mother had that much attention to detail and thoughtfulness.

“I love you too, sis.” Luke told her when she had turned around to look at him. Then, she got up and went to the refresher to study his handiwork.

Leia smiled, but quickly hid the smile in favour of being annoying.

She sniffed judgementally. “It’s adequate.”

But that’s how Luke knew she really liked it, and that she had accepted his unspoken apology for not telling her before now. It meant a lot to him that she was with him on this journey.

“Wanna have a bout?” Leia asked, a mischievous grin on her face. Luke returned it in kind.

“I’m gonna whoop your ass.” Luke retorted back.

“Don’t bet on it.” Leia replied dubiously. She nipped off with a packet of pancakes to offer to Ahsoka as compensation for waking her. Leia returned later with her belt and her saber, and off the twins went to enjoy their Saturday together.

His ad’ika was getting restless, and he had no idea why. Din had tried everything. He’d tried taking him on long walks through the dessert, he’d tried hanging out with his son on the roof and trying to get him to calm down with lullabies his mother used to hum, he’d tried playing with him…  

Nothing seemed to be working. Worst of all, Luke hadn’t replied back to him since last night, and he was starting to get worried something had happened to him.

Had the Jedi Order found out? Was he okay? Was he safe?

Din shook it off, trying to focus on his department meeting. His mind wandered regardless.

There was one particular deep and dark thought that resurfaced every now and again, and he had to beat it down with a stick to stop pondering the silly fear.

What if Luke had decided Din wasn’t interesting anymore?

The thought turned his stomach and roiled, but he couldn’t the thought from coming up every now and again.

It was only later he realized why; after Luke finally texted back in the late afternoon. He informed Din that he had been spending some much needed time with his sister, and Din was fine with that.

Din liked Luke.

He didn’t have a problem with this, and was alright with it, but the realization landed with a bucket of worry.

Shit. He hoped this didn’t interfere with his plan to free the Jedi of this war.

Din calmed, smoothing over the worry with something stronger. Faith.

This was the way.

Chapter Text

“Hey Benji!” Luke greeted to the young boy in the hologram in front of him when he answered Luke’s call.

“Luke!” The kid grinned from ear to ear, clearly excited to talk to him.

Luke laughed amicably. “Yeah, I missed you too.”

Benji was a youngling at the Jedi temple- he had yet to rise to the level of Padawan, and therefore was living on Coruscant and studying at the Great Temple. Luke had offered to tutor him occasionally after he had found the kid crying about his studies in a lonely corner of the temple.

Luke had sensed the boy just needed direction from someone who could relate to him on his level and had offered to help. It didn’t take much of his time, and Benji was often eager to do Luke small favours in return for his help. (Not that that’s why Luke tutored the kid.)

“How’s your studies going?” Luke inquired, crossing his arms, and waiting for the inevitable ‘I forgot to do your homework.’ (Luke couldn’t blame Benji for it, though- studying was busy and hard work.)

“Alright.” Benji told him, looking slightly guilty. “Master Yoda has been on a lot of trips lately.”

Luke raised an eyebrow. Perhaps Yoda’s travelling had something to do with politics. Yoda usually taught the younglings, so it’s always a surprise when he deemed it important enough to travel for something.

“Really? That’s odd. He usually stays with you younglings.” Luke questioned vaguely. Benji shrugged; if Luke didn’t know the answer, then he wouldn’t either.

“Did you do the homework I set you?” Luke asked kindly and without judgement.

Benji grimaced. “No.”

“I see.” Luke sighed. “Well, what can you tell me about Force poles and currents, then, since you seem to know so much on the topic?”

Benji hummed and haa-ed for a few moments to gather his thoughts. “The poles gather around populated areas and sacred sites?” he guessed.

“That’s one part of it, what’s the other?” Luke chided.

“Uh…” Benji started but never finished; caught lacking.

“Force currents expand out of said poles, meaning that each planet has it’s own unique field of the Force.” Luke lectured to a chastened Benji.

He sighed. “Yeah. That.”

“It’s alright Benji, I know studying is hard. Take care of your classes first, yeah?” Luke smiled kindly.

Benji grinned back. “Thanks Luke!”

“Anytime.” Luke replied sincerely.

“Did you want to talk about something in specific, or just check up on me?”

“Actually, I did have a mission for you.” Luke smirked, tapping his chin thoughtfully. “But I’m not sure if it’d be too hard for you.”

Benji always did love a challenge. Also, to feel useful by being given missions. Luke found his eagerness to help unbearably cute, but it also reminded him of himself- back when he was a youngling.

“What?! No-“Benji scrambled to accept. “Tell me, tell me-“

Luke sighed a put-upon sigh, acting like he was still considering giving the ‘mission’ to Benji. (It was more just small favours, really, but it kept him happy, so Luke kept up the act.)

“Please, Luke?” Benji asked eagerly.

He couldn’t help grinning. “Alright then. If you insist.”

Benji cheered.

“I need you to go to the archive terminal and look into something called ‘The Darksaber’ and it’s history. It’s important to know so we can finish this war faster. I tried to investigate it from the terminals we have here, but all that came up was hearsay and gossip. I need the archive information.” Luke explained the problem.

“Once you’re done, tell me what you learnt, yeah?”

“The Darksaber?” Benji asked, furrowing his brows. “What’s that?”

Luke grimaced. “It’s like our lightsabers, but it’s Mandalorian. It’s… a little hard to explain.”

“Oh ok.” Benji perked up, seeming satisfied with the answer. “I’ll do that! We have less work to do now that Master Yoda is away.”

“I see.” Luke mused, eyes twinkling. “So how come my homework wasn’t done?” he teased.

Benji pouted.

“Kidding.” Luke smirked. “Keep studying hard!! Let me know when you’re done- I’ll see if I can get Master Nu to lend you a holofilm.”

Benji beamed, excited at the prospect of a holofilm. “Thanks Luke!! Bye!!!”

“No, Thank you kid. You’re about to help end the war quicker, after all.” Luke gentled as the call ended.

“Master Luke!!” Benji greeted excitedly a few days later when Luke answered Benji’s call. “You’ll never believe how cool this Mando weapon is-“

“Whoa there kid, slow down.” Luke held his hands out in a gesture that called for calm after setting his holocomm down on the desk in front of him. “Start from the beginning.”

Benji took a deep breath, holding his datapad out in front of him to read from.

“It was so cool I took notes on it.” He grinned. “Okay. So apparently the saber belonged to the first Mandalorian Jedi in the Order; his name was Tarre Vizsla-“

“Vizsla?!” Luke interrupted, shocked to his core. A member of House Vizsla had once been part of the Order????

Benji shot him a dirty look and Luke gulped, keeping his mouth shut.

“After his death around 1032 BBY, the saber was kept in the Jedi Temple until members of his House stole the saber during the fall of the Old Republic. The weapon was then passed down and fought for within the house for…generations? The last known bearer in our archive is someone called Pre-Vizla of the Death Watch- a group of Mandalorian warriors who lived by the Resol’nare…? which I guess has grown to include all of the Mandalorian warriors we’re fighting now.”

Luke narrowed his eyes at that. Could Paz have had a role to play in all this? Or did the Darksaber play a role in his family’s eventual disgrace?

“The Darksaber played an important role in the Mandalorian-Jedi wars of the past, as well as helped the descendants of House Vizsla stay in power over both the Death Watch and Mandalore for many years,” Benji quote from his notes. “In the hands of Pre-Vizsla, it was used to stage a revolt against the pacifist Duchess Satine Kryze- where he led the Death Watch to victory. The whereabouts of the Darksaber were lost around then.” Benji sighed, clearly annoyed he didn’t know any more about the saber; considering how cool he thought it was.

Luke had to sit down- the weight of his newfound suppositions pulling him down. He flopped onto his bed with a long harumph.

“Apparently the saber was a tool for Mandalorian equality. If you could beat whoever was wielding it in a duel, then you could have it. It’s so cool!” Benji added. “It’s weird that with that rule, the Vizslas still kept it for so long, though.”

“Yeah, it is isn’t it.” Luke murmured. The involvement of Satine, who was clearly Bo-Katan Kryze’s relative, was an intriguing addition. The relatives clearly had opposing beliefs, and yet… Luke found it hard to believe that the pacifist Kryze would’ve been killed in the battle. Family was paramount to Mandalorians, after all.

Something didn’t add up. What happened to Pre-Vizsla? Or the pacifist Kryze relative? Vizsla couldn’t have been removed from commission by something as easy as a civilian revolt. Not with how clearly protective the Vizsla’s were of the Darksaber; and not with how highly they valued skill in combat and good leadership.

There were darker forces at work in all this.

Of that, Luke was indubitably certain.

“Thanks, Benji. You did a good job with this. Could you send me your notes, please? What holofilm would you like?” Luke heard himself ask distantly, his mind a million miles away.

“You’re never going to believe this.” Luke started as soon as Din connected to the holovid call, his shiny helmet tilted in confusion greeting him.

“Believe what?” Din mused, seeming amused.

“You were right, the Darksaber is originally a Jedi artefact.” Luke perused the notes Benji had given him. “But it was actually made by the first ever Mandalorian Jedi inducted to the Order; Tarre Vizsla.”

Luke couldn’t sense auras through the comm, but he did feel the atmosphere of shock that followed Din’s head movement.

“What.” Din demanded.

“Yeah, and get this- The Darksaber was stolen from the Temple after this guy’s death by House Vizsla and was used in multiple of the old Mando-Jedi wars.” Luke added, watching as Din picked up the Darksaber hilt and stared it at in what seemed like horror.

“Apparently, the saber got passed down through the Vizsla line for generations- at least from our records- and the last we saw of it was in the hands of Pre-Vizsla. Who then lead the Death Watch to revolt against Duchess Satine Kryze and her pacifist ways.” Luke finished letting the new information settle in.

“But that revolt was many years ago… surely there’s some separation between the revolt and my buir accidentally getting it?” Din fretted.

“I don’t know, Din… The whole thing smells fishy to me. I also find it interesting that Bo-Katan would be part of the revolt that had the possibility to get her relative killed. Isn’t family sacred to Mandalorians? Especially ones that follow the Resol’nare like Bo-Katan?” Luke thought aloud, airing his concerns.

Din sighed, his chest rising and falling visibly with the heaviness of the situation. He fell onto his bed with a tiredness that Luke couldn’t even imagine.

“I don’t know, Luke… I really don’t.” Another sigh, and Luke felt empathy for Din’s exhaustion rise in his stomach. “I can’t even pretend to understand what goes through her head.”

“Not to be rude but she’s really a bitch if she was happy to attack Sundari knowing full well her relative could be part of the collateral damage.” Luke commented with a tinge of bitterness.

Din barked out a surprised, but dry, chuckle. “If you put it that colloquially, yeah.”

Luke watched Din who looked a little dead as he flopped out over his bed through the holocomm with pity. 

“Do you think Paz has anything to do with it?” Luke asked softly.

“No. He’s too stupid to try a political coverup.” Din joked.

“But still… I know that he’s your ori’vod… but…” Luke worried.

Din poked his head up to look at Luke through the holocomm.

“He’s not capable of something like this. His family was disgraced- I’d be surprised if he was given a military promotion. People don’t trust his family anymore.” Din sobered, explaining his reasons.

Luke nodded back, accepting his logic.

The conversation lulled as Din took the new information in, and Luke could practically see the exhaustion that had been compounded by the news.

“But hey, at least we can train more easily now. It’s not like Tarre Vizsla’s spirit would mind a little sparring between friends if it meant we stopped fighting each other.” Luke added, a small hopeful smiling finding it’s way to his face. His chest warmed as Din popped his head back up to nod bleakly at him.

“You should really get some sleep.” Luke commented blandly, gentling at the domesticity of the holovid call.

“Probably.” Din muttered. The call audio barely caught it.

“Din.” Luke called sternly, care evident in his tone. Din looked up.

“You need to take a nap or something.”

Din groaned; but sat up. “Alright, mesh’la, alright.” He complained.

“So, you’ll sleep? Don’t call me an idiot for trying to get you to take care of yourself,” Luke chastised fondly.

The Mandalorian prince rolled his eyes and huffed at him (and honestly, Din called Luke the drama king-) but acquiesced. “Yes, Luke. Gods.”

Luke smiled at Din over the phone, and the long indulgent look that Din shot him was worth his badgering.

Padmé returned a week later, having spent most of the month at the Senate and on Naboo lobbying for the latest human rights infringement to be resolved. She’d been working on a clone rights bill too, but it was taking a while to build given that she was spending all her spare time on Mandalore trying to find a democratic resolution to the Mandalorian-Jedi war. While everyone knew it was fruitless, it was her unyielding effort that counted. It allowed her to spend time with her family, too.

“Mum?” Luke called, surprised upon entering his room after a long day of lessons with Obi Wan. No one had told him his mother was coming back.

The well-dressed woman in casual wear turned to smile warmly at him. “Luke.”

Luke sped over to greet his mother, falling into her hug with palpable relief- enveloped by mum and safe. The twins wouldn’t admit it, but they missed their mother when she was away from Mandalore. He felt his mother sway gently into the hug- the ministration comforting within itself.

Luke’s mother carded through his hair as they hung there, and when they finally separated to take each other in, she frowned at his hair.

“You’ve got split ends.”

Luke sighed but had the good sense not to argue.

“I’ve been a little busy with my studies is all.” He murmured self-consciously, rubbing at his hair himself.

“C’mon, we need to fix it and you’re clearly too busy to pop to the village to get a trim.” His mother fussed. Luke groaned but followed after her as she tugged him out of his room.

Padmé sat him down in her quarters in front of her vanity. She’d put towelling around the area to catch the trimmings as she set about remedying the problem she’d found in his hair.

“I’m fine.” Luke tried to protest, but by then she’d already taken the scissors to his hair.

On Naboo, it was part of their culture to take care of each other’s hair - Family would fuss over each other’s hair as a way of showing they cared. But expression of self through hair was just part of their culture. Plaiting hair was a love langauge, and whenever Padmé would return to her parents’ house on Naboo to visit everyone- she’d always leave with her hair in a different hairstyle than she had entered with.

“So, how has everyone been lately?” His mother asked, eyeing him as she trimmed.

“Alright, I guess.” Luke shrugged with minor disappointment. “Same old, same old. The war hasn’t gone anywhere since you’ve been gone.” Though, Luke wished he could surprise his mother with a sudden peaceful ending to this war. It would be worth it just to see the relief on her face- to see the pride and to see the weight lift from her shoulders.

“Luke.” Padmé tsked at him dotingly. “What have I always told you about politics? Things don’t happen-“

“Overnight.” Luke finished for her with the air of someone who had chorused the same phrase multiple times before.  “Yeah, mum. I know.”

His mother leaned around to look him in the eye, her fist full of his hair.

“We’ll get there. I know it.” Padmé told him with determination- a fire in her eyes. Luke felt the comfort of that spark of belief warm him, too.

He smiled, letting his mother adjust and snip as she saw fit. Padmé knew her way around his hair, and he trusted her with it.

There was an intimate quality to the atmosphere as Luke basked in the time he was getting to spend with his mother.

“Leia dragged us to Uj’alayi the other day.” Luke admitted to make conversation. Padmé raised an eyebrow at him as she walked in front of him. “Really? Was it fun? Meet anyone interesting?” She teased.

Luke involuntarily blushed, mind going straight to Din before remembering the fuck up of a hook up. He coughed. “It was fun, but… no.”

His mother chuckled, a knowing twinkle in her eye. “Oh well.”

She moved on without judgement- clearly knowing her son well enough to notice something was up, but respectful and trusting enough to let him come to her about it in his own time. “Family dinner is coming up. You weren’t at the last one, but Leia was supposed to grab morning glory and udon. Do you know if she has, yet?”

“Oh, shit is it really?” Luke cursed, taken off guard. He’d forgetten all about family dinner. Padmé pushed his head down to get the hair on the nape of neck.

“No swearing, Luke.” She admonished, and Luke wanted to roll his eyes. The women in his family all swore like smugglers and then some- he wasn’t sure they should be trying to police his language.

“I’m going to have to help cook, aren’t I?” Luke asked miserably. He was fine with it, but it was sweaty work.

“Yeah.” His mother said, and he could just hear the smirk in her voice.

Luke groaned.

Psst. Leia. Luke called through the Force to his twin. A week later, he had found himself holed up in Obi Wan’s chambers with his blossom wine tipsy family members. Leia had sat out this round and was watching with amusement while she played DJ. She would never miss out an opportunity to laugh at their grandfather’s antics when they came out in full force from the alcohol.

He could hear Aunt Ahsoka and his grandfather shouting the lyrics to the ancient pop song ‘Smooth Criminal’ at Anakin in the background while Luke cleaned up in the kitchen, and every time ‘Ani are you okay’ came up in the sound the screeching got louder- followed by shrieks of laughter.

Yeah? Leia replied as Luke had washed the last dish- his extra penance for missing their last shared family meal.

Luke felt giddy as he glanced at the packaged-up box sitting innocently on the counter. He’d put the meal together on impulse from the extra food they hadn’t gotten to eat- but now that he’d thought it completely through, he had realized that he had the perfect opportunity to slip away here.

Can you keep them distracted for a bit? Luke asked slyly, another wave of anticipation washing over him. He sensed Leia’s indulgence with a thrill of victory before she had confirmed her help.

Fine. Leia sent back, a feeling of longsuffering fondness attached to and dripping from both syllables of the disyllabic word. You can tell me all about those princely thighs later then.

Luke choked, coughing for a moment in surprise by Leia’s bluntness. He sensed Leia’s self-satisfied smirk from a mile off. He didn’t grace Leia’s comment with a reply.

The drop outside the window from the single storey compound building wasn’t far, and Luke had no issues hopping out the kitchen window while clutching the tupperware box. He snuck around the side of the compound, avoiding the windows of people’s rooms until he found his bedroom window.

Parked next to his window was the Jedi speeder he’d stolen off the Mandalorians. It sat as close to the wall as deemed safe to and had been parked so it sat without hovering on the sand, so it wasn’t easily visible from everyone else’s windows.

With a long glance at the far away bright window that was his grandfather’s lively room- alive with his partying relatives; Luke took off into the night.

Din had been settling down for the night when he heard the knock at his opaque window.

At first, he had chalked it up to a rock or two being carried by the wind, but after the third or fourth loud knocks- Din opened his window to investigate.

He hadn’t expected Luke to be standing there in his dashing black Jedi robes, cloak-less and looking a little cold. His dirty blonde hair was ruffled and a mess, but his dawn blue eyes glittered with mischief and kindness as Din cranked the window fully open.

“Well, hello there, stranger.” Din smirked, feeling a little worried that Luke had been standing out in the cold dessert night for a while now.

Luke shot him a cheeky smile, swaying a little with his hands behind his back.

“Would you like to come in, or were you just in the area?” Din asked, leaning down onto his minimal windowsill. He was trying his best to pretend that Luke showing up to his window out of the blue wasn’t making him jittery and that he wasn’t grinning under his helmet like this was the best thing that had happened all week.

If Paz were here… he’d have blackmail for months.

“Something like that.” Luke chuckled, scanning Din. There was a heated moment as they took each other in for the first time in almost a month, and how much they had grown together since they had parted settled into their original bond. Din couldn’t help but admit how attractive Luke’s sudden appearance (and in his warrior Jedi robes too no less) was.

Luke cleared his throat, shifting again (and seriously; the robes did a lot for Skywalker’s thighs holy shit-). Din blushed hard enough that he hadn’t realized Luke was trying to give him something before the box was right under his nose.

“-and I thought I’d let you try some.” Luke finished.

Din blinked at the metal tupperware bento box Luke was holding.

“Huh?”

Luke chuckled, rolling his eyes.

“My family have monthly family dinners, usually around the time my mother returns from her time in the senate.” He explained, and now that Din was aware of how he felt about the young Skywalker it was impossible to ignore how endearing the little twitchy fond smile he had when talking about his family. He wasn’t sure if it was their time apart that was making him notice that, but… he had missed seeing it.

“And my mother cooked her famous Braised Shaak Roast this time. I had to bake both helpings of Tatooine flatbread because I missed Family dinner last month, but it’s alright. There was some extra, so I…” Luke looked up abashedly, biting his lip. “Wanted you to try some. I bet the soup gets a little boring.”

Din was beyond flattered at the gesture- Luke wanted to share some of his family’s meal with him, and he recognized the depth of meaning in that.

“I…” Din looked between the metal box that he had reached out to accept, and Luke’s eyes. Luke hadn’t quite let go of the box yet and their hands brushed, and Din felt like he had picked up a stray electric current. It zinged around his body as Luke relinquished the box to him. “Thank you…”

Luke smiled kindly at him, the night seeming warmer than it had been before.

“My only condition is that you tell me how it is.” Luke grinned; his voice alive with playfulness.

“Only if I get to give you a blanket first. It’s cold out there.” Din huffed.

The Jedi rolled his eyes, but the effect was ruined by his continued smile.

Luke opted to wait in the speeder he’d parked by Din’s window, giving Din his privacy while the window was closed.

The dish that Luke had brought was a classic dish from Naboo; it contained strips of soft and braised Shaak meat, spinach, morning glory, fungi, and deliciously thick udon noodles. It was accompanied by a couple slices of the Tatooine flatbread Luke had mentioned, and Din couldn’t wait to dig in and try the Skywalker take on those classic dishes.

Something about the dish at first bite tasted very quintessentially Luke- the earthy and grounding flavours of the noodle dish paired well with the way the mix added lots of flavour to the noodles in a surprising way. The flatbread added this simple but almost wise addition that made his stomach feel warm and gooey.

But the more Din dug into the hearty and beautifully cooked meal, the more he couldn’t help but think of his mother. This was the kind of meal she would have cooked for him, back when Din was young. Although the noodles were thicker and there was more meat than his mother would’ve added in this dish- all he could think of was sharing a meal with his mother back on Aq Ventina. His father laughing and going off to the kitchen to get his mother some tea while his mother chided Din for not eating enough vegetables.

She would’ve liked this meal. It was vegetable filled, and Din could tell Padmé cared a lot about her family’s health through the heaping amounts of spinach and morning glory.

Each bite was juicy and bittersweet, and all that Din could think of was that… perhaps this was his mother trying to comfort him from beyond. There was something about it that felt that way- like she had seen how much he was struggling with the politics of this and how much he truly needed some solace… and sent it in the form of Luke and this meal.

He stared down at the half empty box, sitting innocently in his lap as he sat cross legged on the edge of his bed.

Din hadn’t registered the tears until a couple fell into the noodles. Suddenly what had seemed so far away and not painful was tearing through him, the loss fully hitting him again. It felt like the first time he had fully understood and registered the moments with his parents that had been stolen from him. The true heaviness of everything that should have been dragging him down and ripping at his chest.

He put the lid on the box and sobbed for what felt like an hour; but it was probably less.

Kriff. Fuck.

He wished she could see him now. He wished he could hug her one last time, he wished she could listen as she spouted some joking sage advice while his father fiddled with the holoTV- setting it up for her. They’d had a long day in the farm.

Din wished he could cook for her- see her pride as he added his twists to the recipes of their family legacy. He hadn’t been taught them by his father before they both perished. He wished he had learnt them.

He’d been robbed of her joy, of their shared passage through life. The true weight of it settled in upon Din’s shoulders while his heart ached.

His gaze drifted to the completely opaque and closed window- where Luke was waiting in a speeder in the cold just because he valued Din’s opinion and respected his privacy.

Din’s heart ached as he realized that… he couldn’t bear this weight alone anymore. It was becoming too much to bear- he couldn’t keep trying to shoulder the weight of being cabur and future leader by himself.

But as he gazed down at the metal box in his lap; he realized that despite what the Mandalorians might have him believe- it did not make him weak to need help.

Din understood strength in numbers, but it had taken his mother’s teachings a while to finally make sense to him.

The strong are those who accept that even they need help sometimes. The true cowards are those who pretend they don’t.

His mother had said this to him while telling him the story of the struggling Aq Ventina senator who had refused to admit that they needed better trading relations with the worlds around them. That senator’s pride had led to their eventual fall to the Separatists.

Din had spent all his time with the Mandalorians shouldering everything. Bearing as much as he could take because he thought he would be viewed as less than by the others if he didn’t. If he reached out for help to anyone but his buir.

What would his mother think of Din hiding his ad’ika from his Jedi friend? From the man he cared deeply about just because of some silly rumour about Jedi baby snatching?

Luke had already opened himself up to Din so fully that Din got dizzy from it- Din had fallen for each and every intricacy the young Skywalker had revealed in turn.

So how was it fair to Luke that Din was keeping a child from him? Luke had already done so much to try and help him in his path to Manda’lor- Din was starting to realize just how much he had begun to rely on the young Jedi in that respect.

He realized through how much he cared about Luke- of what he had to do.

Luke’s gift had reminded him of his mother, of the infinite kindness she had graced everyone with and of her gentle nature. While painful a memory- the gesture meant so much. Especially in Mandalorian culture. He doubted Luke was particularly aware of this weight of the gesture, but he appreciated it nonetheless.

The reminder of his mother was the kick up the butt he had needed to realize how important Luke truly was to him- not just as someone who could help end the war, but as someone who he cared for.

But also, that this was the type of caring not felt alone- not bore alone.

He couldn’t let keeping his ad’ika from his cyar’ika come between them. Din didn’t think his heart could take that.

Din glanced back at the window, heart filling with complete and utter surety.

While Din knew he had been past the point of no return with Luke ages ago… It was at this moment that Din fully accepted that fact and let go of his political fears about what a relationship with Luke might mean for his politics. He wouldn’t hold back any longer- he wouldn’t do Luke’s trust the disgrace of that.

They’d power through it together. Whatever happened.

He finished the food Luke had given him.

When Din opened the window again, Luke was 2 months deep into the local Mandalore holonet memepage. He startled as the window withdrew into the upper wall, leaving the large retangle with rounded corners as a hole in Din’s wall.

Luke smirked. “You certainly took a while. It was that good, huh?”

Din huffed, his voice strained and strangely sober. “Yeah.”

The Mandalorian’s aura was one of grey-blue melancholy and startlingly vivid deep pink as he leaned against the windowsill, holding the Tupperware out to Luke.

Luke hopped out of the speeder and stepped up to the windowsill; still wrapped up in Din’s extra blanket. He accepted the metal takeaway box and placed it in the seat of his speeder.

“Well, not to boast, but my grandfather and mother are both phenomenal cooks.” Luke grinned.

“Yeah? Your mum’s cooking is… wow…” Din commented, shaking his head as if in awe. “Was that a family recipe?”

“Yeah! It was.” Luke pulled the blanket around himself tighter.

The conversation lulled as Luke just enjoyed the moment, rocking back and forth on the balls of his feet.

Questions teemed in Luke’s head as he looked at Din- Did Din feel the same intense gravitational pull he did towards him? The same rising warmth? Was Din scared of the possibility that Paz might be angling after the Darksaber? Was Luke being too obvious about his feelings? Was there more to Bo-Katan than either of them had originally thought?

“How have guard shifts been?” Luke asked instead. He was in Din’s personal space now, standing right in front of him with the windowsill separating them- but they’d been stepping into each other’s space like this even before Luke had left.

Din shrugged. “The Alor has been trying to wean me off battle and slowly bring me into the political fold. She thinks that she’s being sneaky by sticking me on guard shift, but I know what she’s doing.”

Luke smirked. “Oh, well I guess we won’t be able to have any more battlefield banter, then?”

“That’s all you could come up with?” Din retorted, his aura blinking bright golden yellow.

 “As much as I know you enjoy warfare… It’s better for my people that you’re off the playing field.” Luke admitted, avoiding Din’s eyes.

“Luke.” Din called, looking for his eyes. “Luke.”

Luke found Din’s gaze and held it.

“I know. While you’re right, and I fully would not want to cause harm to your people… politics still aren’t my strong suit.” Din told him, sincerity and honesty dripping from every word. There was a vulnerability to Din’s admission of his thoughts on his own politics that he hadn’t heard before. Luke’s heart warmed despite the cold night, and he could swear he was blushing despite himself.

He raised an eyebrow at the Mandalorian, eyeing the way the light from Din’s room painted him in kaleidoscopic hues of reds, clays, and maroons. Din wasn’t in his full armour at this time of night, but there was something about how the mix of reds reflected off his helmet that made him look wise and regal. Like the king he was made to be.

“I highly doubt that.” Luke murmured, leaning in to look Din in the eye. “Din… you’re bright. So bright, actually.”

Din caught his breath at the Jedi awash with the golden light of his room peering down at him with such utter belief that he felt his chest stutter with it.

“Fuck, I wouldn’t have been able to deal with all the details and hidden rules in your culture without your help. If I were in your position, I don’t think I would be holding out as well as you have been.” Luke admitted in a whisper. “Even though I’m a Jedi, and I’m supposed to be all wise and shit… you’re so much smarter and wiser than me.  You know so many different languages, you understand strategy and your admittedly very detailed culture, and… you’re incredibly good with people. Even if you don’t realize it.”

“Are you kidding? You’re the smart one- “Din tried, but Luke laughed and shook his head.

“I know I’m smart, prince, but… that’s in a book smart way. You’re more street smart, but that’s also smart. It’s just different types of smart.” Luke smiled softly, and it felt incredibly intimate when he looked as ruffled and comfortable huddled under a blanket as Luke did.

Din wanted to kiss him. He wanted to kiss Luke with his bright red cheeks and chewed at lips, and oh gods he was fully regretting his creed now-

“Then we complement.” Din murmured back, and Luke flushed a deeper pink. “You can be the wisdom and I’ll be the quick thinker.”

Luke chuckled shyly. “Yeah; that would work.”

The conversation fizzled and died, but Luke could still feel the tension that hung in the air between them. He felt it in his stomach and how he felt overheated like he’d been lying in the desert sands for too long. Flushed warm to the tips of his fingers and ends of his toes.

Luke didn’t want to bring up that his mother was a politician and a senator, so he could probably help if Din needed him to. He wanted Din to have his moment of self-belief.

His comm beeped, and the sound shook them out of their moment. Luke checked it, and it was just a news notification, but the time flashed at him; and it was late.

He should be getting back. His family would be worried if he didn’t show up for breakfast tomorrow.

“I should probably be going home.” Luke admitted to Din, his tone sullen. Never mind that he suspected that home was beginning to take on a new meaning for him.

Din let his head fall before looking up at Luke. “Really?” he replied, seeming disappointed.  

“Yeah.” Luke sighed. “Text me later.” He added in lieu of the goodbye he didn’t want to say.

Leia would probably get worried if he didn’t return for midnight. Luke couldn’t remember if he had lessons tomorrow, but if he did, he could miss them by staying. Obi Wan would get even more suspicious. He had to.

Luke turned to go; but was stopped by a hand on his right wrist. The action flowed through his body like a tendril of moonlight.

“Wait- “

“Din?” Luke replied, heart in his throat. He needed to go- didn’t Din know he would rather stay?

“Stay.” Din breathed, pulling Luke back with his hand in Luke’s.

Luke felt robbed of his words, and Din took his other hand in his.

“Please.”

Luke blinked; all there was in his world right now were the feel of Din’s hands in Luke’s. The ache of how good that felt and the soaring feeling of a high-speed race-

He should go. He should really go, for both their sakes.

“Of course.” Luke breathed back, flushed all over and feeling an intricate vertigo he couldn’t describe.

He blinked, trying to get himself to think logically- but all that came out was “As long as you promise to get me up before dawn.”

Din laughed back at him. “You know I get up then anyway.”

The blanket Din had given Luke started to slide from Luke’s shoulders with his hands now occupied, and he had to pull away to save it. The moment slipped between their fingers and flew away with the midnight breeze.

“Gods, Luke- get in here then if you’re staying. It’s cold out.” Din teased, stepping away from the window to give him some space. Luke rolled his eyes back at his Mandalorian and struggled to get his boots off after he had shoved his saber in them earlier.

“Nope, that’s taking too long.” Din grumbled, grabbing Luke’s hand and trying to pull him up and onto the windowsill. “What the fuc- “

Luke flailed, struggling to scramble onto the windowsill one handed before he gave up on his boots and waited until he was sat on the windowsill to undo them.

“You know you don’t have to take your boots off, right?” Din chastised fondly with a huff.

“It’s respectful in my culture. I’d get sand in your house!” Luke gasped incredulously.

Din cocked his helmet at him in interest.

“Plus, these are nice boots, alright? My sister bought them for me. They’re designer.” Luke huffed.

That made Din take pause, eyeing the boots with interest. “They seem pretty normal to me.”

“That’s the point of designer.” Luke sighed, rolling his eyes again. Despite being smart, sometimes Din could be thick.

“Alright, Mesh’la, alright. I get it. I just don’t understand fashion.” Din gave in, his hands up in surrender.

“Ha! I bet Erin would understand.” Luke chided, a grin building on his face as he plopped his boots under Din’s window and climbed into his room. He flopped down on Din’s bed just to hear the put-upon huff in resignation in response.

“So, you don’t want to put sand all over my floor but sand on my bed is perfectly acceptable?” Din complained, judging hands crossed over his chest.

Moments later, something vaguely clothlike smacked into his chest and Luke picked his head up to see what it was.

“If you’re gonna do that at least stick those on.” Din grumbled, sitting on his bed too.

Luke groaned but got up to comply. The layers of Jedi robes felt stifling now that he was inside.

When Luke returned from the fresher in the loose and comfortable clothes Din had tossed at him, Din was waiting for him- looking shy?

Din wasn’t shy, so this behaviour was strange.

“I…” Din shuffled, and alarm bells in Luke’s head started ringing.

“I think it’s time to… show you something?” Din admitted, and Luke had an odd feeling about it.

“Sure!” Luke tried to be enthusiastic about it- but everything about his body language was pointing to Din having kept something from him, and that definitely stung somewhere deep in his chest.

He pushed it down. Din probably had good reason for whatever it was.

Grogu had been trying to ask the silver armoured man who had taken him in to bring the Jedi he’d been hanging around back to him for weeks. His father had been stubborn in not understanding Grogu, and at this point he wished he knew how to speak whatever language it was that everyone else spoke. He knew some words, like family and I, but they weren’t enough to get across what he wanted to say.

What Grogu had wanted to say was ‘Please bring the Jedi boy back, dad, his Force was calming and Grogu could talk to him.’

Grogu could sense the way his father felt about the Jedi. (Luke, if he remembered his father’s ramblings correctly.) The way his father had gone on about him left no detail about the man to the imagination.

But at this point Grogu had given up and decided to hope that his father’s feelings brought the young Jedi back around to the place they were living. So, when Grogu sensed the green and heard the rustling of leaves that carried through the Force- he had been delighted. He’d tried to tell Erin; the fiery red girl that left him feeling like he could taste smoke about it, but she had been on her way out for something.

Grogu wandered around the room, feeling the peaceful Force signature draw ever closer. Erin wasn’t here to usher him back to his bed behind the curtain, and he didn’t want to go- so he didn’t.  

When the door slid open, he rushed up to it and looked up to a surprised dirty blonde young adult suffused with green light. Grogu couldn’t help but waddle over and cling to his leg, enjoying the way the connection through the Force lit up between them like recognition.

“Huh?” Luke asked, surprised. His eyes were wide as he leaned down to look at Grogu.

Almost immediately, Grogu shot images and feelings at Luke in an attempt to tell him how he had met his father and how his father had been rambling about Luke to him for weeks.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, kid- slow down.” Luke stumbled at the intensity of it, shooting Grogu’s father a glance and picking Grogu up to hold in his arms. The door slid shut behind them as they pushed into the room.

“Wait, what?” Grogu’s father was surprised.

Grogu growled in frustration before trying again. This time he focused on sending the image of Luke’s green haloed visage to him with the vague feeling of curiousity.

“Oh.” Luke chuckled, and Grogu could sense the confusion and hurt that he was covering up. “Yeah! I can use the Force too.” Images lit up in Luke’s head as he said them, and Grogu understood from that.

“I’m Luke! What’s your name?” Luke pepped, bouncing Grogu- who couldn’t help but laugh. Grogu focused on each letter of his name to try and project it to Luke, and he furrowed his brow while trying to make sense of it.

“Gr..o..gu?” Luke spelled out, trying it out on his tongue. “Grogu. Is that your name?”

Grogu laughed and smiled and tried to show him that yes that was his name. It felt good to hear his name after so long.

“You can talk to him?” Grogu’s dad asked, stunned. Luke shot him a serene smile that showed no hint of the tinges of betrayal Grogu could sense he was feeling.

“I can. Grogu is Force Sensitive.” Luke took a long look down at Grogu. “I’m surprised I hadn’t sensed him by now.”

“I thought you said you could only use the Force to talk to your sister?” Din asked, confused.

“That’s adults. Younglings are always easier- they don’t have the same mental wards that adults do.” Luke explained, swaying for Grogu’s benefit (which he enjoyed).

“Right.” His father sighed, and Grogu could tell there was this sudden heaviness between them.

Unsure how to help, Grogu projected images of the many times his father had told him all about Luke- his aura many shades of the pink that hung between the two men even now.

Luke smiled softly- a slightly bittersweet smile as he moved Grogu from one arm to his other.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Luke asked gently, the hurt clear in his eyes but his voice kind and unjudgmental.

“I...” Din shook his head. “It’s stupid.”

“It’s not stupid if it felt important to you.” Luke comforted.

“It’s not that I don’t trust you, Luke… I just…” Din shuffled nervously. “I read somewhere that the Jedi like to take kids from their parents, and I know that you wouldn’t do that, but… he’s family to me and I didn’t want to risk it- “

Luke looked down at his feet, trying to find the words to express the complicated emotion he was feeling. It sat in a tangled knot in his throat. He understood now that this wasn’t personal, but just a cultural misunderstanding.

“Please believe me.” Din asked quietly, his voice almost pleading and achingly vulnerable.

“I do. Din, I do.” Luke comforted, feeling a rush of affection for how much Din wanted to be alright with him.

 “While the Jedi do take in young kids… We don’t do so without the consent of the parents. Not like the Sith- the Sith just take regardless.” Luke put delicately. Din relaxed a little. “I know it may seem bad; asking parents to take their kid… but being Force sensitive is a dangerous thing to be, Din. It’s a gift, but… others would give their right arm and a few other limbs for the opportunity to take advantage of a gift like that. Force Sensitive kids are among the most likely to be kidnapped, and for parents who aren’t Force Sensitive… it’s hard to find ways to protect them.”

Din’s aura filled with grey understanding as he raptly took the explanation in.

“The offer to the parents isn’t really an attempt to fill our ranks, but rather an offer of protection- to keep their Force sensitive child safe and raise them to use their gifts safely. Untrained force sensitive kids can often be a danger to themselves and others, and it’s paramount that they learn to channel their gift safely.” Luke explained, looking at Grogu who seemed to be nodding off in his arms. “Although… my own opinion is that the parents should be able to come with their kids and be able to spend time with them and be part of their child’s upbringing, I also understand how necessary training and protection from other Force sensitives is for kids like Grogu.”

“Oh.” Din murmured.

Luke stared Din down with a determined gaze. “Just know that I would never attempt to come between you and your son.”

“But… my ad’ika ran off from the Jedi. Surely you’d want to bring him back to them?” Din fretted, and Luke’s heart ached for him. He’d clearly struggled with the idea that Luke as a warrior would prioritize duty over Din’s feelings and the idea that Luke could ever do that hurt- even if Luke knew this was a cultural misunderstanding. Din just couldn’t imagine a culture that would do that- a culture that was based entirely on compassion, empathy and helping others. Luke knew Din had encountered them with his buir while bounty hunting- but trying to figure out what to expect from someone without remembering they’re from a different culture from you could be difficult.

Luke reached out with his spare hand, clasping Din’s hand in his to try and ground what he was saying to the depth of his sincerity.

“Din. Believe me when I say that duty is not my priority as a person, a Jedi… and your friend.” Luke explained, trying to get through to him past Din’s cultural conditioning. “All the Jedi and I would want for Grogu is the best for him- and if he wasn’t happy with the Jedi and instead found happiness with you and that path of life… Then it’s the will of the Force that you two are together; and the Order would be happy to leave it at that. I know the Council would’ve been incredibly worried about Grogu and would’ve been looking for him- and probably still are, but by whatever stroke of luck… Grogu’s managed to keep himself hidden.”

Din’s aura was awash with a kalaidascope of colour; ranging from deep pink to relieved whites to grateful greens.

“I…” Din seemed dumbfounded by Luke’s acceptance and willingness to respect Din’s wishes. “Luke, thank you- I… I’m sorry I didn’t tell you before.”

Luke pulled Din into a hug with his spare hand. Grogu had fallen asleep in his arm, so he had to manoeuvre around it- but Luke pressed Din’s head into his spare shoulder for a much-needed embrace.

“I… I’ll admit that it hurt a little. I’ve been completely open with you since… but Din. It’s okay. I understand why. This is just a big cultural misunderstanding based on some misinformation you read a long time ago. I don’t blame you for that… and…”

Luke took a long and deep breath, feeling the words fill his chest up once again- just as they had back at the tree at the compound.

“I forgive you, Din. I forgive you.”

Din clenched his fist in Luke’s shirt. Luke could feel how it pulled the back of his shirt down, but he didn’t complain. Din stood there; his forehead buried in the dip of Luke’s shoulder- his arms still wrapped around him like Luke was his tether to reality.

It was hard to hear, but Luke could see the way his breaths heaved through Din’s chest. Luke pulled him closer in a protective gesture and tried to give him his privacy- trying to get a read on Din’s aura at this point was like getting sucked into a nebula or a black hole. If he jumped in, he may never find his way back out.

Better to let Din come to him with whatever he was feeling. Luke focused on Grogu instead, who looked adorable curled up in the crook of his right arm; happily sleeping.

Perhaps his Force signature was comforting. No one had bothered to try explaining to him what his signature was like- it was often hard to find the right words that encapsulated it when he had tried to explain others Force Signatures to them. But he’d often found himself surrounded by younglings on multiple occasions when he had passed through the youngling classrooms, and that had to account for something.

When Din had let the tidal wave of pure emotion wash over him completely, he looked up. He seemed completely content with Luke’s arm wrapped around him, so Luke left the arm there.

“Thank you… This means a lot.” Din admitted with a long breath.

Luke chuckled. “Don’t worry about it. We can’t help our cultural conditioning.”

Din snorted, seeming abashed.

“I mean, I can’t stop myself from taking my shoes off when entering someone’s personal space. It’s a cultural condition that I learnt to show respect. Your cultural condition is just to never, under any circumstances, endanger or separate a family. Grogu is your family, so of course you’d feel incredibly hesitant to introduce him to someone who had the possibility of taking him away from you.”

Din’s aura flushed with deep gold and maroon pinks. “Yeah.” He replied thinly, leaning in as if to try and hug Luke back for a moment.

Then, he stepped away, glancing at Grogu with an aura of fuchsia.

“We should probably let him sleep.” Din mentioned on the offhand.

“Definitely.” Luke agreed. Toddlers were hard to deal with when they were tired.

“Hey, Luke…” Din started, and Luke paused in figuring out how to set the baby down. “I know you’re training me, but… if you ever would want to train him. You could.”

Luke lit up with a soft smile. “Really?”

“Yeah.” Din confirmed, his voice warm.

Luke nodded, delighted by Din’s offer. “It’d be an honour, my prince.” His eyes gleamed with playfulness at the endearment. Din chose not to mention it. 

Grogu wriggled in Luke’s arms; still asleep but clearly uncomfortable with the fact that Luke was moving his arm about. He floated the toddler over to the portable cot in the curtained off area of the room.

“If I’m going to train him, though- you need to be able to beat me first.” Luke teased with a quirk to his mouth. Din led them out of the room.

“You may find that will happen sooner than you think.” Din retorted as they made their way through the hallways.

“Really?” Luke asked doubtfully, a smile playing at his lips- not quite there yet.

“You’ll see.” Din replied with self-certainty.

They walked together back to their room in tandem, and Din was starting to feel like they were finally on the same page.

When Din reached out to take Luke’s hand, Luke took it.

And that told Din that things were okay- that Luke understood and forgave him.

He imagined his mother was smiling down on him tonight.

It was when they got back to the room that Din was faced the predicament that he’d found himself in with Luke staying the night.

They both stared at the space near the window where the extra mattress used to sit; now gone.

Din cleared his throat awkwardly. “Erin’s brother, Kiikar, came back from whatever secret mission he was on and needed his bed back.”

“Oh.” Luke replied quietly, his voice small and cheeks flushed red. Din turned to make sure he was feeling alright, and Luke seemed to shake himself out of whatever he was thinking.

“Well, I hope you didn’t throw out my toothbrush.” Luke teased with a wink, going to poke around Din’s fresher. Din didn’t have the heart to admit that not only had he kept it, but he had also found some mint toothpaste for him. (As opposed to the spicy flavoured one he had.) Somehow, he felt that it would make it glaringly obvious how big of a crush he had on the young Skywalker.

“Is that mint toothpaste- “Luke called out, surprise in his voice.

“No idea what you’re talking about.” Din called back, playing coy to the sound of melodious laughter. If Luke could play coy about pretending to not buy the sunhat Din had suggested he buy, then Din could play coy about the toothpaste he definitely hadn’t bought.

While Luke was busying himself with cleaning his teeth, Din tried to figure out a solution their ‘only one bed’ problem.

Din’s issue was that he didn’t have enough pillows to try use that as a separator, and he didn’t have an extra mattress lying around either. His bed was a little bigger than the ones everyone else got, but that’s because he was a ranking officer and had nothing to do with his status as cabur.

It had been Din’s decision to ensure he hadn’t gotten any special treatment for being heir apparent, and he was starting to regret it given his options at the moment.

If he had just accepted the extra benefits… maybe this wouldn’t be as awkward.

But… Din couldn’t help but glance over to the refresher, where Luke was still going on with his night-time routine.

You sure you’re not getting him to share your bed with you because you’d enjoy it? A perverse and carnal voice deep in the pits of his stomach whispered.

Din pushed it down. That’s not what was happening here. Luke just wanted to spend time with him.

But you’d so enjoy feeling him pressed up against you, holding you close-

Din fought the blush, shoving the thought down as Luke left the refresher, stretching as he went. He cleared his throat.

“So, uh…” Din opened with. “I don’t have any other solution but to share?”

Luke’s face heated up. “Well, only if you’re comfortable- “

“Don’t worry about it, I mean I could probably try the floor- “

“Din you’re the prince of Mandalore, you’re not sleeping on the floor.”

“What does my title have to do with anything? I just said I could if you wanted me to- “

Luke crossed his arms stubbornly, clearly immovable in the matter.

“Well then I guess we’re sharing. I’m not letting the Prince of Mandalore sleep on the floor on his own planet.”

Din shot him an incredulous look as Luke sat on Din’s bed determinedly- settling himself on the side that was tucked up against the window.

“Excuse me? Hold on, even if you wanted to sleep on the floor; I think Anakin would skewer me if he found out- “

“Oh please, like he could say anything considering his secret affair with my mother- “

Din sighed long-sufferingly as Luke stared up at him with complete and utter determination. He was clearly going to be immovable in this matter. 

“Fine.” Din huffed, unable to meet Luke’s gaze without blushing. “Move over.”

Luke complied, shuffling over, and pressing up against the right-hand wall. Din settled under the covers on the left-hand side of the bed, shifting until his helmet settled comfortably against the pillow.

It was a little awkward, but they both fell asleep alright.

Luke woke to the warmth of something heavy and very solid wrapped over his middle, he could feel a similar unfamiliar warmth where his legs were splayed out under the covers.

His eyes opened, taking in the wall that Luke had fallen asleep facing. The window begun at his hip level, and through the half-opaqued window, stray sunbeams fell through- illuminating the covers, and…

Din’s arm?

Luke glanced down to find that the warm something around him was Din’s very tanned arm wrapped around him. His eyes widened as he realized how intertwined they had become during the night.

But fuck- this was nice. Luke couldn’t deny the emotion that had thrilled through him upon noticing this new development- the jitterbugs in his stomach.

Luke almost enjoyed it enough to completely forget that he had intended to leave before dawn. And that it was well past dawn at this point.

When Luke noticed the warm and cozy sunbeams again, he did a double take.

Wait…

With controlled panic (so he didn’t wake Din) he called his holocomm over to him with the Force, checking the time and the day.

Oh. It was a Saturday.

His family was very likely still asleep; it was only nine in the morning. The rule for weekends was that midday was the general time they should all be up by.

Luke looked back down at Din; clutching Luke to his chest with his helmet tucked against Luke’s neck and felt himself smile. 

He tossed his holocomm to the further reaches of the room.

Luke could afford a couple more hours of this.

Din woke up a little sweatier than usual. It wasn’t until he had registered the warmth in his arms that he had truly opened his eyes; wondering how his ad’ika had wandered in.

But then he caught sight of the curls of dirty blonde hair, golden with the sunlight as they made their way down Luke’s neck. The green aurebesh tattoo that disappeared into Luke’s shirt, Luke's built arms that were pulled against his chest…

And Luke’s right hand, clasped in his own…

Which was wrapped around Luke??????

Din’s heart stuttered and his stomach felt as gooey and warm as curry noodle soup. He was glad he had his helmet on, because if Luke had woken up right now, he’d be faced with Din looking like the flames of his alor’s hearth.

Oh gods... he had it bad, didn't he...

But Luke hadn't woken up yet, and he wouldn't be the one to try and break the oncoming awkwardness of this situation. He could indulge a little bit. 

If Din pulled Luke closer and fell back asleep... Luke didn't need to know. 

Chapter Text

Luke couldn’t get everything out of his head. His head filled with every lingering touch that he and Din had shared when he had gone over on Benduday…

He was finding it hard to sleep- tossing and turning and sitting up in the dead of night with the moonlight streaming in and knowing exactly what he was missing but not quite wanting to admit to it. Not yet ready to ask for it. Not sure what the answer would be.

Luke keenly felt the empty space in the bed with an awareness he usually reserved for threats. He’d phantom reach for the warmth he knew wouldn’t be there; his head muddy with sleep before being startled into the fact he was reaching for Din again…

He knew that the sleepy embrace he had shared with Din had been a one off. An accident that Din was bound to have been uncomfortable with. If Luke could just keep his hands to himself around his stupid Mandalorian…

Luke was stuck in this limbo of wanting to text Din but not wanting to bother him; his hands twitching their way to his holocomm before stilling with the afterthought.

But Din had gotten under Luke’s skin in a way that was making him crazy with it- it itched and burned with the smallest hint of him. Luke just wanted to pull Din in and keep him there. Even more so now that he knew what that felt like. To loose himself in the wet push and pull of lips and the slide of skin against skin, the race of his heart and the flush of heat…

Fuck. Luke wanted to trace Din’s muscles and watch the entire thing play out in his aura. He knew that if he was ever going to have Din, it would be with the helmet on, but part of him wondered what he looked like underneath that expressive beskar helmet. What his eyes looked like as he traded sparring banter with Luke, what shapes his mouth would make curling into various smiles…

Not that Din didn’t look karking gorgeous with the helmet on, though. He always looked ravishing. It would just be nice to be able to sink into Din’s lips and hear the oncoming gasp as Luke licked his way into Din’s mouth.

“Eugh, Luke.” Leia made a face as she passed him. “I mean, that’s hot but also please keep it to yourself… As your sister, I don’t want to know.”

“I was!!” Luke exclaimed, face scarlet.

Leia raised an eyebrow at him, taking a sip of the caf in her hand.

“Why are you in my room anyway? Get out!” Luke turned around and tried to look busy so she’d go.

She eyed the directionless way he was shuffling through various datapads dubiously. “Hm… no.”

Luke shot her a death glare. “I’ll tell mum.”

“And what would you tell her? ‘Leia’s intruding on me while I fantasize about getting a piece of the Mandalorian prince?’ ” Leia asked, and it was clear from how she’d phrased it that she’d win. Luke growled and threw himself onto his bed, pretending she wasn’t there to the sound of her laughter.

“What’s your problem anyway? You’re not usually like this.” Leia asked, following him with a look of intrigue.

“Maybe I just don’t want you perving on me while I try to chill for once in my life.” Luke retorted.

Leia scanned him with a critical eye; not buying the sass. “Or you just need more sleep, and possibly some dick?”

There was an incredulous shriek as Luke looked up with murder in his eyes. “I am about two seconds away from killing you; I hope you know that.”

“Don’t shoot the messenger.” Leia shrugged, not buying the threat.

“Forces, you’re so mean. I wasn’t this mean the last time you came to me about some man candy from Uj’alayi you had a crush on.” Luke complained.

“You were.” Leia corrected succinctly, taking a righteous sip of caf.

Luke groaned…

And threw a pillow at her.

“For the last time, Get out!”

Din had been stuck with a bereft feeling that he felt the need to fill since Luke had left. In attempt to fill the time before his mind did, he spent all his spare waking hours with his ad’ika… Grogu…

It was weird to think of now that he knew his ad’s name, but he loved his son all the same. It was nice to spend time with him now that he had more time to.

But Luke’s mobile mouth and graceful hands haunted Din through his strategy meetings and political planning meetings with his buir, every moment he wasn’t busying himself was a moment his brain would supply every fantasy he’d been shoving down under the sun. Starting with stargazing together in the dead of night and ending with the more unrealistic ones like making out on the throne Din would take if he managed to ascend to Manda’lor.

But gods, was he grateful for his creed when he had flushed scarlet at each and every little desire that flickered through his head. At least no one could tell he had been startled out of a daydream about pulling Luke into bed and getting to ravish the talkative blond the way he’d wanted to after every single one of their sparring sessions. He could practically hear the gasps and the way Luke would make the same noises he did when they sparred- the groans going breathy while Din chased that red flush of his down Luke’s chest.

When Din was shocked back to reality, he always found it hard to focus- flushed with embarrassment and feeling overheated… overcooked.

It was as if the gods knew just how to torture Din. He was frustrated and itching for that something more with Luke that he could swear was there between them and it was everything he could do to not overwhelm his poor Jedi with just how much affection and attraction he had for the man.

He just hoped that next weekend came sooner rather than later. Luke said he’d try to come back next Benduday. Despite the fantasy based lust he was trying to get over for the young Skywalker that curled in his stomach, Din really missed him. His bed felt emptier without the witty blond.

When Benduday came, his grandfather had decided to reward Luke for the way he’d thrown himself into his studies that week by ending early- giving him the afternoon off.

Luke had been surprised at the reward for his emotional avoidance techniques, but not particularly surprised. It was just like the Force to be an ironically bad influence like that at times.

He slipped away without much trouble. His father was probably busy war planning with the council, or sneaking off to his mother’s room like a lovesick teenager. (Luke said, sneaking off to his crush’s room… exactly like a lovesick teenager. Luke realized with a hint of self-awareness that judging his father for wanting to spend time with mother was becoming hypocritical.)

Luke’s heart was pounding as he hopped out of his speeder, bag in hand… definitely not fully intending to stay the night again.

The way Luke saw it, if he so happened to accidentally stay the night… it wasn’t that big of an issue. If this resolved the way his heart had ached every time he had woken up with the phantom feeling of Din sleeping next to him… he could pass off a little shameless hinting.

Din opened the window at the first knock this time, and he had clearly learnt from the previous time that the knocking wasn’t sand chunks.

“What’s in the bag?” Din asked when he saw the white rucksack hanging from Luke’s fingers, surprised. His aura was a painting of various shades of maroons and pinks.

Luke just smiled sagely, a twinkle in his eye as he hopped onto the windowsill to undo his boots.

“Luke?” Din asked, his voice bellying a hint of concern that whatever it was in the bag would be dangerous.

“You’ll see.” Luke smirked, and his attention quickly focused on the small green toddler who’d launched himself across the room to greet Luke as he clambered into the room. Grogu clung onto his leg, and he couldn’t help but melt with a light chuckle.

“Hey there Grogu,” Luke gentled as he scooped him up. “How have you been?”

Images flashed in his brain of various things that Grogu had been doing during the week. Taking a walk with Din in the after lunch quietness, the time when everyone usually disappear off to do various things to end off the day. Waddling around Erin’s room as she pushed a small silver ball at him on the floor, her form lit up with an intense, almost alive, fiery red. Sitting in Din’s bed, holding out a little doll-like figure to his buir.

“That seems very cool.” Luke smiled, glancing back at Din- feeling fond.

“So you say hi to Grogu, but not me?” Din faux pouted, his voice hesitating before Grogu’s name. He must be still getting used to calling him that.

Luke laughed, tugging on Din’s hand to pull him into a hug. “Alright then, prince.”

Din wrapped an arm around both Luke and Grogu, and for a moment everything felt like it was as it should be. Luke’s heart swelled at how easily Din fell into his hug, stuttering with how good the gesture felt. He’d spent all week wanting to hug Din again, and it felt better than he’d pictured it.

“Hi Din.” Luke greeted quietly as Din pulled away.

“Hey.” Din replied, and Luke could hear the smirk on his voice.

Grogu babbled at them, and they focused their attention on the youngling.

“Huh?” Luke asked, hoping Grogu would clarify what he wanted. Images of the bag Luke had brought floated up with curiosity tacked onto them.

“Oh!” Luke glanced at the bag which he had set down near the window with his boots. “Well… I was planning to do that later, but I guess I could now, too…”

“Do what?” Din asked, seeming vaguely interested but also confused. Luke could practically see him trying to see if the thing in the bag was some sort of Jedi artefact or not.

Luke sighed dramatically. “You’re both so nosy, Forces…”

But the complaint seemed jokingly insincere considering that he was digging the surprise he’d brought out as he had said it. He pressed a capsule of something into Din’s hand, and Din looked down at it- aura light yellow with surprise.

“It’s a face mask.” Luke explained pre-emptively. “You put it on your face to help your skin. It’s fun!”

Grogu giggled, reaching out for the capsule in Din’s hand.

“It’s not good for you, though. Sorry Grogu.” Luke pushed his small hand out of the way, shifting the toddler away from Din while he studied the face mask capsule cupped in his hands.

Din looked up at him blankly; aura translucent.

“You’re… telling me you’ve never tried one before?” Luke asked carefully, surprised and a tiny bit incredulous.

Din looked down at the capsule again. “No? I’m not big on Coruscanti beauty trends.”

“Right,” Luke announced, determined. “Grogu, let’s get you to Aunty Erin. I’ve got to show your buir the wonders of the modern face mask.”

So that’s how Luke found himself sitting crossed-legged on Din’s floor, trying to explain how face masks worked to him.

“It’s pretty basic, you just put the stuff all over your face and leave it there for fifteen minutes.” Luke shrugged as he demonstrated, putting a whole bunch of the clay-like substance from his capsule on his face with a dedicated silicon brush that he seemed to own just for this purpose.

“Like this, see?” Luke beamed, and Din couldn’t help the shy smile and the rising heat that grew at the clearly eager Luke Skywalker turning his megawatt smile up about five notches with goop all over his face. Why it was that Luke was so cute like this, he had no idea. He just basked in it.

Luke pointed to the other capsule that was in front of Din, who was sat in front of him. “You should try!”

Din blinked. “But, my creed-“

“You could go in the refresher,” Luke shrugged. “I don’t mind.”

“Fifteen minutes in the fresher would be boring, though.” Din commented with a smirk, knowing that it would hamper Luke’s plans a little. But he enjoyed the consequential little frustrated pout he made right after.

“I could… sit outside and talk to you if you want?” Luke suggested after a moment, ears turning red. “…Or just use your holocomm or something, I don’t know.” He seemed to backtrack.

“But what would you say?” Din asked, just to be a little shit, voice dropping a little.

Luke pinked even more than he had been just now. “Uh…”

Din chuckled warmly, and Luke seemed to flail after being caught out.

“Oh shut up! You put me on the spot!” Luke complained, going to put his head in his hands before realizing he still had goop on his face. He stopped before his hands met his face. “Fuck, Din. Just go try the face mask already! I know you’re going to anyway.”

Din laughed his way to the fresher, locking the door and taking his helmet off. He could hear some shuffling from the outside and assumed it was Luke moving to sit near the door.

He struggled to figure out how to use Luke’s weird flat brush thing for a bit before he managed to get it to work. When Din had put all the goop around his face, he sat near the door- titillated by the idea that Luke would somehow muster up a conversation and what that might entail.

Din pushed the fantasies that arose from his amusement down. But it was getting harder to not think about them- Luke was in the same place as him now, with his buttery voice that had a Tatooine twang, his gleaming violet blue eyes, and sunlight smile…

“I’m done.” Din admitted, shaking off the distracting train of thought. “Do you have a timer, or?”

“Yeah, hold on.” Luke shuffled from behind the door. It didn’t help that Luke sounded better with the helmet off rather than on, and Din couldn’t help but wonder how much else of Luke he was really missing with the added distance of his helmet. Was his eyes a much more vivid shade? His skin a lot more tanned? The red of his lips brighter?

“Alright, the timer’s on.”

Din sighed, pressing the back of his head against the door as he sat against it. It was silent for a while as they mulled on what to say. Sitting on the tiles of the fresher floor seemed lonely, even if he knew Luke was right outside.

“Well you promised to talk to me, and that’s definitely not happening.”

“I can’t just summon conversation topics up immediately, you know!”

“I thought you could. The Jedi seem to be good at that. Normally I can’t shut you up.”

“Wowwwww.” Luke complained. “Ok, rude.”

“If you don’t like it mesh’la, do better.”

Luke harumphed from his side of the fresher, and Din fought down a snort of laughter.

A beat.

“You sound better with your helmet off.” Luke admitted softly. So softly Din almost didn’t catch it.

Din’s heart panged. He wanted to get as close to the wall as he could- just to enjoy the way Luke’s voice dipped and rose like a melody. If he was honest with himself… he always wanted to get closer to Luke. He could never be close enough.

Luke was like sunlight, and oh…

Din definitely wanted to burn.

He used to be afraid of doing just that, but he knew now that Luke’s fire was a protective one- a comforting and compassionate one.

Din wanted to be drenched in the sunbeams that dripped from Luke’s tongue and then some. Every time he caught a beam, it left him wanting more.

“Yours sounds better with the helmet off too.” Din admitted back, his voice rough with the ache inside of him.

If he could just summon the courage to ask Luke to be clan… to be part of his innermost circle officially… maybe he could kiss him. Maybe Din could get his chance. He didn’t know if Luke felt the same, but surely there was something on the other end of this divine feeling?

But what if Luke said no? What if Luke didn’t want to be clan with a Mandalorian? Luke had enough family- enough people to support him. Why would he be interested in a Mandalorian of all people? Even if they had reconciled their differences, and Din liked to think they were friends, too… but…

Din wasn’t used to getting what he wanted. He wasn’t used to people being happy to match his energy and respect his identity. Luke was everything he’d want in a partner, and it almost seemed too good to be true, despite the circumstances.

He was hesitant to trust it.

“Really?” Luke asked, his voice catching. “What does it sound like with the helmet on?”

“A little muffled, but… nice.”

Din could almost feel Luke’s smile through the door.

“Yours is too.”

“It is?” Din replied, surprised. No one had commented on his voice before.

“Its…” Luke hesitated, thinking about it. “A little gruffy, but… in a comforting way. It’s like velvet? But a little rougher.”

Din blinked, surprised into a blush. He had no idea Luke appreciated his voice so much.

“Oh.” His chest was a volcano of heat and warmth that pooled in his stomach. He wanted to pull Luke in and never let go.

When Din didn’t respond, Luke nervously tried to continue the conversation.

“What’s mine like?”

Din tipped his head back for air- feeling a little breathless, looking at the ceiling in thought.

“Your voice sounds… like everything that makes you… you, Luke. There’s a Tatooine drag to it, but there’s the hints of the grace of Naboo and your mother. There’s a Coruscanti lilt and… It sounds like your wisdom and wit, and it’s as bright as you are. Ultimately, it’s peaceful… and beautiful too.” Din felt like he’d just carved off a small section of his heart with that, but as vulnerable as it felt… he meant every word of it. His cheeks hurt with how warm they’d become.

It was silent on the other side of the door for a while, and Din fretted he might have said too much.

“I… I didn’t know.” Luke replied a while later. “That’s… thank you.”

 Din smiled. “It’s no problem.”

 “Maybe that’s what my signature is like.” Luke murmured, and it was only the fact that he didn’t have his helmet on that he caught it.

“Your what?”

“Force signature. Every Jedi has one. It’s… kind of like their essence in the Force. You can see everyone else’s but your own.”

“Oh. Well, I couldn’t help you with that, but… has no one tried to describe it to you?”

“They have but… it’s never made sense. I just got descriptions of green and calm.”

Din snorted. “Sounds about right.”

“Really?” Luke asked, surprised.

“I mean, your lightsaber is green, so it would be weird if it was a different colour.” Din commented. “And… green just seems like you. There’s something encompassing about the colour.”

Luke didn’t respond for a while, clearly pondering the philosophy of it. Din left him to it, mulling in his own pounding heart- revelling in the phantom touch of Luke’s back against his own from behind the door.

They startled when Luke’s alarm went off. Din got up to wash his face and dry it, trying to get out of the fresher quickly so Luke could wash his face too.

Not because he felt like he’d said a little too much and wanted to get out of the fresher before he confessed his feelings or anything. Definitely not.

When Luke had had his turn in the fresher, Din felt the itch settle into a thrum just under his skin. It was a constant battle to stop himself from doing something stupid.

“The communal feast is tonight.” Din commented to the air as Luke made his way towards where he sat on his bed. “We’ll have to leave soon.”

“Well then let’s go. Don’t want people to start realizing I’m not living with you, now do I?” Luke smirked.

“You know they’ll talk anyway.” Din warned. He was already hearing rumours from Erin about the speculations on their relationship. While they weren’t entirely baseless… Luke did not need to know about them.

“Let them.” Luke shrugged, oozing confidence.

Din smiled, a feeling of gratefulness weaving its way into his butterfly filled stomach. It was nice that Luke didn’t care what they would say. It was nice that he could somewhat still be his authentic self in public unapologetically. He didn’t care if he was seen with the future Manda’lor or not, just that he got to spend time with Din.

They were in the overcrowded corridor of the mess hall to wait to leave for the train through Sundari when there was a shout in Mando’a. The crowd parted like the red sea, and suddenly there was an empty ring around Din and Luke, with a blue armoured Mandalorian pointing right at Luke.

“You.” The Mandalorian said, venom in his tone. Panic thrummed through Din as he thought of all the possible scenarios of whether or not they’d found out about Luke’s Jedi status and-

“I challenge you; Luke. Foundling of the Cabur. To a fight.”

Din blinked. A fight? Luke could refuse a fight. It would be stupid to accept…

And yet, if he declined they both knew it would reflect badly on Din and his honour. It would show he was incapable of bringing up a foundling in their Mandalorian traditions and would disgrace him. Given by the way Luke was glancing at him, searching for approval… He knew that too.

“Luke… you don’t-“ Din murmured, anxiety on Luke’s behalf overwhelming his system. He reached for Luke’s shoulder, but stopped when Luke glanced at him in warning. Din would rather not risk Luke for his honour. He knew Luke could win this fight, but he could sense an ulterior political motive to this challenge that they didn’t need to meddle with.

Luke took a deep breath, searching the crowd around them with an analytical gaze. A terrifying certainty filled his face as he faced the challenger head on, eyes blazing.

“I accept your challenge.”

Chapter Text

Luke was glad that he had pinned his padawan braid to the back of his head before he had left to visit Din, because his hair was shorter now that his mother had cut it. The braid would’ve been more visible with his hair not shaggy- and he had the feeling that the braid being noticed was all Bo-Katan’s tribe would’ve needed to point out to prove that he was a Jedi.

It only took a glance at the challenger’s armour to tell that he was in line with Bo-Katan’s beliefs. Whether or not she was orchestrating this challenge was a completely different story, but Luke could recognize a political move when he saw one. He was Padmé Naberrie’s son, after all.

The only part that was unclear was how was challenging Luke political? He knew that it could just be an attempt to defame and undermine Din and bring in more followers, but Luke could sense more at work here. They must’ve known Din would’ve wanted Luke to say no to the challenge. 

So Luke stretched, keeping his movements non-threatening and easy as he stepped into the ring of people.

Luke felt an arresting hand on his wrist, and he turned. Din had grabbed his wrist; his aura a sickly green- queasy and nervous. Din’s nerves echoed in his own stomach and Luke had to suppress the way his insides tried to eat themselves as he met Din’s gaze.

“Whatever this is is going to be political. You don’t have to do this.” Din murmured, grip on his wrist loosening- his hand enveloping Luke’s. Eyes searching Luke's. 

“Please don’t do this.”

Luke sighed, not replying, looking at his feet to gather his thoughts. He didn’t want to hurt Din by going against his wishes, but Luke knew what he had to do.

“I know you could probably thrash him if you felt like it, Luke, but there’s something more to this.”

Luke pursed his lips.

“You know there’s no way out of this without me that ends well for you, Din.”

“I know, but that doesn’t matter-“

“Don’t say that. Please don’t say that.” Luke searched Din’s gaze, pleading with him to agree. “You and your honour matter, Din. I know this matters to you more than you’ll say. Let me help you.”

Luke’s eyes caught on Din’s neck as he gulped. Din squeezed Luke’s hand, as if borrowing a little of his strength. They glanced over at the challenger together, who was conferring with his tribe mates while the crowd around them chattered with gossip.

“Mandalorian politics are messy, with all sorts of tricks and lies. Don’t expect him to fight cleanly.” Din acquiesced, concern dripping from his hushed tone. From that, Luke could tell that Din had decided to accept that Luke was going through with this. Luke squeezed Din's hand in return. 

“Be careful not to fight too… like you- try to make it look more Mandalorian. Fighting style is a big indicator of identity among us.” Din murmured with a sigh, eyeing the man who had challenged Luke.

“I’m still not sure what this person’s angle is, but if we pay attention to anything they say- we might be able to figure it out.”

Luke sighed. “Alright.”

The crowd chanting for them to start paused the side huddles the challenger and Luke had gone into.

With a long look at the crowd of semi-armoured Mandalorians (who had expected to just hop on the train for the communal feast, and therefore were in varying states of casual armour wear) as the excitement thrummed through the crowd like the raw energy of a Coruscanti nightclub.

Luke took a deep breath, adrenaline thrilling through him as he lingered on Din.

“Alright.”

And with a grin and a wink to his Mandalorian prince, he turned to face the loth-wolves.

The challenger removed his armour so as to have a fair fight with Luke, but the crowd made noises of disappointment as he did so. Luke knew armour was sacred to Mandalorians, and he was tempted to tell the challenger to leave it on. But that would’ve been cocky and would put him at a disadvantage, so he kept silent.  

“You sure you’re ready for this, aruetii?”

“I should be asking you that question, since you are clearly weak enough to follow a power hungry bitch.” Luke shrugged, falling into step as they circled each other. The crowd watched, looking between the two with baited breath like it was ping pong.

“And the cabur isn’t?” The challenger asked, venom in his tone. Luke shoved his the righteous anger down. It sloshed, white hot, in his stomach.

“You don’t know what you’re talking about.” Luke spat.

The man shrugged. “Right, and following an incapable leader is the right path for Mandalore.”

Luke had to shove the outrage down and release it into the Force before he acted on it. He stayed his course, waiting patiently for the man to attack first so he could use the attack against him.

But then Din’s warning came to mind. He needed to find a Mandalorian adjacent option.

So Luke attacked first, rushing in and missing a blow to the man’s head- getting punched in his stomach for his effort. He doubled back, elbowing the man in the chest in a display of sloppy Mandalorian technique.

He wasn’t going to win like this. Luke pulled back and put space between him and the challenger.

Luke’s solution was to introduce some less noticeable Force aided techniques- dodging the man’s next blows easily, stepping in and going for a roundhouse kick that clocked the man in the head with a satisfying thump.

The man tried to land punches to Luke’s head, but Luke blocked them with his arms- borrowing the technique from Din.

“What’s wrong?” Luke taunted as he dodged, elbowing the man in his stomach. “Can’t think for yourself without your Kryze?”  

There was a growl, from the man as he pushed on- headbutting Luke and kneeing him in the stomach. Luke doubled over and stumbled back. He could feel the Force gathering around him, and he wanted so badly to draw on it completely and show this man who he was dealing with.

But he glanced at Din, holding back with the strength Din's worried aura provided him with. He couldn’t put the two of them in danger like that.

“That’s rich coming from Djarin’s pet.”

Luke’s eyes blazed with the offense he’d taken at that. He was no one’s pet. Why couldn’t the Mandalorians get that?!

Despite his better judgement, he latched onto the insult and the resentment building in his chest. He let out a shout as he rushed into a brute force attack, punching towards the challenger's chest, but the man grabbed his fists and held him there- tossing Luke to the ground like a rag doll by his wrists. Luke scraped his arms and legs as he landed. 

Luke pushed up to his knees, skin stinging, getting up quickly before the man could use the change in levels to his advantage.

“Your one weakness is that you underestimate anyone you deal with. It will be your downfall.” Luke growled lowly, squaring up.

The man narrowed his eyes, but fell back into an easy defensive stance as they circled each other like birds of prey- looking for every flaw and weakness they could find and use in their favour.

Luke found several. For one, the man needed to distribute his weight better. He’d tried to use this earlier, but to no avail without using the Force. It was a common Mandalorian mistake, though Luke knew that the uneven weight distribution towards the heels could prove lethal to Luke if combined with proper traditional Mandalorian fighting technique.

But it was good weakness to abuse in his favour.

Luke cracked his neck and balled his fists. He’d start there.

The man lunged forward into the spot that Luke had been a couple seconds before, and Luke took the opportunity to kick the guy in his stomach while he was unbalanced. The kick landed with a grunt and Luke was sure to grab the man’s shoulders with a death grip to go in for another bruising kick.

The man grabbed his wrist and squeezed hard enough to try and pop a finger joint out, and Luke let go- twisting his hand out of the man’s grip with a liberal application of the Force.

He was trying to keep his use of the Force in this fight to a minimum, but it was proving difficult considering that Luke was boxing above his weight category. The man was much bigger than him, and Luke was barely keeping a lid on the resentment he had for the Kryze follower.

The man rushed him, landing a few hits to Luke’s already tender chest until Luke grabbed his left arm and twisted. He kept twisting until he had the man’s arm pinned behind his back and crying out.

“How’s that for Djarin’s supposed pet?” Luke growled lowly, trying to make a point. He wasn’t anyone’s pet.

There was a moment the man just panted, struggling to keep the pain from his twisted arm at bay.

Then... the challenger started chuckling, like a man who had his opponent right where he wanted him, and Luke’s blood went cold.

“Go on. That’s it. Show your true colours, you monster.”

Luke blinked, surprised, and suddenly the motives of the fight were entirely clear to him. This wasn’t about provoking Din or trying to disgrace Din.

Oh no, this was much more sinister. It was all about Luke. Using Luke to attack Din. They were after Din's credibility through Luke. 

They were trying to get Luke to show himself- provoke him until he lashed out with the Force. To get him to reveal himself like an overly disturbed animal.

They were trying to publicly get Luke to oust himself as a Jedi. Icy fear filled his veins and almost paralyzed him- this man had managed to worm his way into his head and Luke had almost let him. He had been angry enough to throw all caution to the wind only moments ago. Luke had felt the familiar siren's call of the Dark side in his anger.

“How fucking dare you. How dare you pretend to know anything about me.” Luke muttered back angrily, beside himself as he dislocated the man’s shoulder with a violent tug. The man let out a strangled scream and looked back at Luke with unbridled rage.

But then he glanced at Din, who had reared back with surprise at Luke’s action. Acting out of anger was just so out of character for Luke that Din had been surprised, and Luke felt shame wash through him. Anger was not the Jedi way. What would his family say?

He took a deep breath, falling into a meditative state as he circled the man- focusing back on his breath, his steps and his connection to the Force. Luke pushed through the haze of emotion- could feel the memory of his sister’s promise cutting through it.

“And if you ever find yourself forgetting or slipping to the dark side. Even for a moment. I’ll be here to remind you of who you are.”

Luke looked Leia in the eye, soul lightening. The tears slowed.

His voice was small and vulnerable as he reached out to his sister. The girl he couldn’t imagine living without because that might just break him.

“Promise?”

He held out a singular, shaky, pinkie. Leia giggled at him.

She sighed fondly, clasping her pinkie to his and giving it a shake. “Cross my heart and hope to die.”

Luke panted, breaths heaving as he struggled with himself. The challenger he was fighting was on the side making sure his arm was somewhat functional. While it was a tactical disadvantage to let him, Luke’s inner world was in too much turmoil to care. The sirens call of anger was hard to fight down, but…

“Then we complement.” Din murmured back, and Luke flushed a deeper pink. “You can be the wisdom and I’ll be the quick thinker.”

He had to. For those he loved.

This fight was Kyrze’s political followers trying to oust him as a Jedi, meaning that they didn’t have enough proof of this fact for anyone to believe their claims yet- or their proof was circumstantial at best. What they had was just suspicions. This was still salvageable.

It was a direct attack not just on Luke, but Din- if Din was proven to be fraternizing with a Jedi then his people would turn on him. Bo-Katan would've won even before the coronation ceremony. The Jedi would remain at war with Mandalore. 

And Luke was not going to let her. He'd fought and bled and hurt and lost too much for that. 

Luke faced his opponent, stone faced as he struck upon the most important revelation of all.

He couldn’t give them what they wanted.

If he won this fight, he’d lose the war.

So although Bo-Katan’s move was one of brute force- trying to force Din and Luke to show their hands… Luke would not rise to meet it. He knew that the Mandalorians just couldn’t see past their own culture enough to realize that Luke was willing to throw away his honour and so much more if it just meant his people weren’t dying for nothing.

They didn't know of just how much Luke would endure for peace. They didn't know that true strength ran deeper than just physical. 

Not only that… he was willing to fight to his last breath if it meant Din would take the throne of Mandalore. It was nothing short of what the man deserved. Fuck what everyone was trying to say- Din was the only true royalty around here. The only one truly deserving of the throne, and that he was doing this for Din as much as he was fighting this fight in the name of the Jedi. 

Luke knew that he was throwing some of Din’s honour away here too, but he’d already made it clear that he was willing to sacrifice that if it meant Luke’s safety. He leant into it. 

When the challenger and Luke clashed again in another round of physical combat; Luke let go.

He stopped fighting, despite knowing the price for it. 

Not visibly letting go, but letting go nonetheless. It was better to seem like a novice fighter and get beaten to a pulp then be accused of being a Jedi and ruin their chances of ending the war.

Bruises bloomed on his skin. The man broke Luke's nose and agony washed through him, blood dripped down his chin and onto the hallway floor. Luke couldn't keep track of whether or not he was speaking or gritting his teeth against the onslaught. 

Luke wanted to fight back. He wanted to put this man in his place so badly, and the need for it grew with the rising amount of pain he was in. Amidst the tsunami of righteousness about the injustice of this all, he clung to the surety he felt in that Luke needed to hold back- not for himself, but for those he loved most.

Luke had to make this sacrifice if he wanted a chance at peace. 

For everyone he loved. For his family, and everyone who wanted their normal lives to resume once more. 

And so, he endured. Persevering through the way his body swayed, unable to hold itself up, curling in on himself against the barrage of attacks- the way that everything was sore and tender and aching that flooded his senses with just pain and alarm and-

He wasn’t sure how much more he could take, but he just hoped that his restraint and his agony was worth it in the end.

Luke glanced at Din as his vision frayed at the edges; everything tunneling. Luke couldn't feel his body as everything spun around him. His vision becoming pinpricks of light against the void of the blessed painless dark. 

As his vision went black, his delirious brain only had one thought in mind.

May the Force be with you, my prince of Mandalore. 

Chapter Text

Din couldn’t hear anything, couldn’t feel anything as he watched Luke crash to the floor and not get up again, feeling helpless and numb and-

He could feel every muscle in him strain with the effort of staying where he was, to wait until he was allowed to intervene by the ancient laws of Mandalore. Icy cold panic rushed through him, making him jittery with it. He was drowning without a drop of water in his lungs. What if Luke was dead? He had never gotten to tell Luke how he felt, and he could feel the way his heart shattered for all the stolen moments they still had on their horizon together. Could Din lose someone else?

Had Luke asked, Din would’ve given himself to him. Muscle fibre by muscle fibre, bone by bone.

Kriff, shit, fuck- was Luke dead? He hoped to the gods that he wasn’t and oh gods-

Tears pricked and stung his eyes that he fought down, blinking them away.

Din couldn’t live without him. He wasn’t sure when that had happened.

It had taken chunks out of his soul to stand there and watch as Luke had endured blow by blow from whoever this Kryze thug was.

Din didn’t need to know this guy’s name.

This man was dead to him.

When it was clear that Luke couldn’t fight back any longer, lying motionless on the floor, Din gulped his writhing stomach down. He stepped out into the ring of people; tentatively at first, fighting down the urge to cry or rush to Luke’s side. He couldn’t show weakness here, even if the man he loved was possibly dying. He had to be careful. 

But then Din felt a spark of anger catch in his stomach as the man went in to kick Luke when he was already down.

Oh fuck no.

Din strode into the ring, blocking the kick with his own leg, seeing too much red to give a shit what people thought of him as he aggressively pushed the man away from Luke’s broken form.

“But-“ The man protested.

“I call upon the ancient rule of combat that allows me, Luke’s founder, to intervene and accept the challenge when it is clear that my foundling is too injured to continue the fight.” Din announced, cutting the man off, to a crowd that gasped and gaped at him. Din wasn’t known to accept challenges much, so his acceptance of Luke’s challenge was monumental.

The man gulped, accepting that Din was intervening, seeming a little fearful for his safety. Din’s fighting skill was renowned among the warriors, no matter how many times Kryze tried to blacken his name.

Din readied his stance.

“You fuck with him, you fuck with me.” Din bit out lowly to the challenger. “Is that clear?”

The man nodded slowly, sluggish with his shock, and he gave the overall impression of someone who had gotten a little more than he had bargained for with this challenge.

Din glanced down at Luke’s unconscious body behind him, feeling the panic and rage build in him like a type of acid bomb. He was teetering on the edge of hysteria but Din found that he did not care one bit if it meant that  this challenger could feel Luke’s pain.

Luke may not be a warrior of violence, but Din irrevocably was.

And this man would taste it like the inevitability of the oncoming storm.

Din struck first, reaching into the pain and terror and ire that had mounted in his stomach and had drenched him, injecting all of that into every movement.

Right hook. Block. Left hook. Step back. Feint. Head strike. Roundhouse kick. Thump, smack, crash, crack-

The man’s nose broke with a loud snap, and Din didn’t wait for him to feel the pain from that as he dodged the man’s attempted blow to his chest. Din held the man by his shoulders, loosing his grip for a moment before he gripped a fistful of the man's hair. He kneed into the man's chest as hard as he could. 

He may of broken a few ribs. He couldn’t hear the crack over the shock of the crowd.

Luke had tired the man out already, so Din had found it easy to engage the challenger’s sluggish movements. Any punches the challenger had managed to land, Din didn’t feel beyond the numbness that filled his body with the intensity and depth of his roaring emotions. Every muscle in his body was taut with the hurt and he couldn’t see very well with the tears filling his eyes. Everything in him was just straining to fall apart, and the only thing holding him together was the certainty that this man needed to pay for harming Luke. He couldn’t get the sickening thump of a fist connecting with Luke’s skull, followed by the bone rattling crash of Luke’s body falling to the floor out of his head. It played in his head on repeat, driving each lashing out of Din’s fists. 

Din wanted to do more, wanted to break the man so badly he’d feel it for the next few months, if not years- but one glance at Luke made him pull back.

Luke wouldn’t have wanted that.

Not done in his name.

Din took a shuddering breath, trying to clear his throat of the way it was closing up. Din wanted to sob- he wasn’t sure whether the man he loved was dead and this was all this challenger’s fault and-

He felt torn and bleeding, like someone had made him chew and eat glass and that it was now turning his insides into a gory, sickening blender. It hurt so badly, everything stung and ached.

Despite all that, Din had the certainty that he knew exactly what he had to do. Felt it in the anger that held his body upright by the sheer force of will. 

The man tried to attack him and go on the offence, but he was too outmatched and too tired to try. Din had him on his knees in front of him in three well placed moves, crying out as he twisted the man’s dislocated shoulder.

Din took a deep breath, blinking the tears from his eyes as he stared down at the man who’d hurt Luke. It took everything in him not to start beating him into a bloody pulp as the man stared back with seething hate.

“Yield.” Din demanded.

“No.” The man croaked out.

Din sighed as if just mildly inconvenienced, not taking no for an answer. He twisted the dislocated shoulder into a very unnatural position, and the man screamed unguardedly with the way the pain of it washed over him in flattening, blackening waves.

“I said. Yield.” Din gritted out, leaning over the challenger with every angry atom in his body.

The man started crying, and Din couldn’t help but feel perversely satisfied at his work.

“Yield.” Din commanded. “Unless you want some more?”

Din pulled on the arm, rolling the shoulder and ensuring it hurt as much as possible. He could tell from the screaming.

“OKAY!” The challenger shrieked, his words coming out rough and raw.

Din stilled.

The challenger took a few heaving breaths, taking a moment to try regain his dignity.

“I yield.” The man murmured, drooping his head pathetically.

Din would’ve left it at that on a normal day.

He perused the broken man in front of him. Kneeling at his mercy.

This was not a normal day.

Din tugged at the arm he had held hostage gently. Enough for it to hurt, and the man whimpered with the surprise of it.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t quite hear you. Could you speak up a bit?” Din asked, faux politely. Venom dripped from his words as he stared the kneeling challenger down.

There was a growl, but as quickly as the man’s defiance had arisen, it fled.

“I yield, Djarin.” The man said loud enough for the crowd to hear.

With that, Din was satisfied.

“Alright.” Din acquiesced, letting go of the man’s arm, and turning towards Luke before he stopped. He had a thought to mention while the man was in his debt. 

“Oh, and… Tell Kryze that if she ever tries it with Luke again, it’s on her life.” Din commented coolly and casually- as if it was just a common footnote and not a threat.

The man nodded, surprised. He seemed to look at Luke with fresh eyes- as if just starting to see how much Din cared for Luke.

Din was sure everyone was gossiping about it- but he was beyond caring right now. He dropped into a kneel next to Luke, putting two fingers to his neck to check his pulse, Din’s own pulse thudding loudly with the worry that threaded itself- strung tight- in his chest.

Luke’s pulse was weak, but blessedly there, and Din almost started crying in relief on the spot; the knot of worry and anger and fear and pain slackening for a moment.

Beyond the haze of relief, there was the certainty that Luke needed some medical attention. Din wanted to pull Luke in and never let go, he wanted to just touch and feel him just to reassure himself that Luke was there, but he had to prioritize.

Din was reluctant to submit Luke to the onsite medics for treatment on the basis of the possibility that they could do an under the table M-count without their consent. They couldn’t afford that right now, and it would take just one blood test for everything to blow up in their face.

So Din scooped Luke up, nestling his head in the crook of his arm, his legs hooked around Din’s other arm- holding him as close as he dared to without pressing on his injuries.

The hallways were empty as Din carried Luke back to his room, most people having went off to the mess hall- and then with the crowd of warriors to the city-bound train. It was the communal feast tonight. They’d have to miss it. As excited as Din was to show Luke what their papuur'gal was like… they’d have to wait until next week.

As Din walked, he had to be careful not to clench his fists too tightly. He had to be careful not to hurt Luke, despite how downright murderous he felt.

He was angry at Bo-Katan and her followers for being so ignorant. As Din looked down at Luke, all he could see was someone who was beautiful, bright and deserving of love- of so much love. The fact that Bo-Katan had drawn Luke into their politics made him sick to his stomach, but... 

Din pulled Luke close- drawing him into his chest, clinging to his warmth. The lazy wave of Luke’s hair fell into his closed eyes, the way it usually did all of the time. Din could imagine the little bright and startled laugh that Luke had that usually followed right after.

Din had almost lost him today.

One moment it had been daydreaming of getting Luke to taste some papuur’gal, and the next... Luke was being beaten to a pulp, Din praying that Luke survived.

The worst part about it was that Din knew full well that Luke could’ve beat the man he if wanted to. He was just starting to- before Din could tell that he had stopped fighting back altogether.

He didn’t even know why.

It made his stomach turn and he struggled, trying to not feel like he was clawing at the walls for the answer.

Luke would probably tell him when he recovered, but it turned his stomach and his heart ached. It bled.

But one thing that made him fume with anger that burned like a raging forest fire through his insides was that they had hurt Luke.

They had put Luke in a position to get injured, and they had done it intentionally and maliciously.

Din didn’t know their true intentions with the fight, but all he knew was that Bo-Katan might as well have declared war on him openly, because he was sure as hell not going to let something like this slide easily.

How dare she try to hurt Luke- how dare she try to use hurting Luke against Din, how dare she think she can use Luke to her advantage in her political agenda, Luke had nothing to do with her how-

Din didn’t realize he was shaking until he tried to gently settle Luke into bed, his movements slow and jittery as he slid Luke onto the covers.

He stared at Luke, looking small in contrast to the rest of his room. A ray of divinity among the red tones of war.

Unable to help himself, Din reached out, taking Luke’s hand gently- just to reassure himself that he was there. Luke’s breaths came in slow, like he was just sleeping and hadn’t been knocked out- he was transported once again to the stolen moment last week… Luke in his arms, the sunlight cloaking him in gold…

Din blinked back tears, face hot. 

He could have lost that. Din could’ve lost Luke before he had even had him.

Din felt the tears spill, and it took effort to hold the rest of them back.

The medic needs to come look him over. He reminded himself, trying to shake them off.

But the tears sat, insistent and itchy and weighted with how deeply this cut, in his lower eyelids.

It was only the necessity of calling a medic that allowed Din to compose himself enough to go and fetch one. Din paid no mind to which medic and where he’d gone to go and find one, just that he needed one.

When the medic came, following Din back to the room, they banished Din from the room with a pitying look. They promised him they wouldn't do a blood test without asking, and Din trusted them. He knew this medic well enough. 

Din found himself in the refresher, his helmet off and trying to splash water onto his face to sooth his teary, itchy eyes, but…

He looked up at the mirror, staring at his own reflection. The light brown skin, the tired brown eyes and hair…

Din could’ve lost Luke. He looked himself in the eyes and clung to the fact that Luke was okay, and getting help and-

Where would Din be without Luke? Luke had taught him so much about life, so much about grace, so much about what true strength really meant and taught him…

Well...

Luke had taught him what love felt like.

Din felt a sob rise in his throat, and he swallowed it, the tears building again. Every time he thought about Luke, lying there- wounded and vulnerable, he felt his throat close up because it hurt and because Luke didn’t deserve that and it wasn’t fair-

It wasn’t fair. It wasn’t fair that Luke had to feel this pain, not fair that Luke had to carry the burden of Mandalorian politics along with Din purely because he was a Jedi, not fair that Bo-Katan had seen fit to hurt the man he loved because-

Because why?

To hurt Din? Because she could? It was driving Din insane and-

Din slumped forward towards the sink, resting the weight that would’ve been on his shoulders into his hands and through the sink.

Nothing was fair and everything hurt.

But Din had begun to think that things would change. Luke had given him hope. That things could change.

With Luke, he had begun to believe it wouldn’t always be that way. He was less sure of that now, heart thudding in his chest- the image of Luke collapsing to the ground replaying like a horrific nightmare in his head.

Din could’ve lost Luke before he could tell Luke how he felt. Luke deserved to know that, at least that.

Luke deserved to know that Din had resolutely, irrefutably, fallen for him. Luke deserved to know that Din loved the way he bantered, the little witty remarks coming out with a sheepish, mischievous smirk that played on his mouth. Loved the lightness he carried, despite everything. Loved how Luke was unafraid to take him down a peg or two, doing so with kindness in his heart. Loved that Luke was such a strong spirit- he didn’t understand how Luke had found the grace not only to forgive but to care for someone who was from the same culture that hurt his people. That still were hurting his people.

Din loved the way Luke would get all in his face, the charged atmosphere dragging him down in a flattening wave of warmth- like he’d just taken a bite of honey sweet sunlight, and his chest squeezed, an ache running through him and-

Well.

Din drowned. The feeling dragging him under in a tsunami of the black void.

He didn’t come up for air for a long time. Even when the medic knocked on the door.

Later, when Din resurfaced, feeling heavy but somewhat better; Din read through the note that the medic had left. The note was surprisingly kind, beginning with A ‘I hope you’re ok!’ and going on to detail their diagnosis and any meds Luke had to take. The medic had even added at the end that they promised not to mention anything about Din hiding in the bathroom to anyone, and Din was warmed by their kindness. They left their holocomm frequency at the bottom so that Luke or Din could ask them any questions they had.

Din was shaky as he settled in next to Luke in the bed. He didn’t have any chairs that weren't his desk chair that he could sit in, but he liked and almost needed the closeness that came with lying next to Luke. His hands shook and he still kind of wanted to cry again, chest swirling and tight with the enormity of this complex feeling- but the warmth and comfort of Luke next to him brought his heart rate down enough to think clearly.

As he focused on the places that Din ended and Luke began, Din was certain of one thing.

This couldn’t happen again.

He had run the politics of the situation through a few times, trying to figure out what Din could do to deter the Kryze tribe from the same blatant attack on Luke and Din again and…

The only true possibility was to ask Luke to be clan. If Luke was clan, and the Kryze tribe tried to challenge him again- then Din’s tribe would have the grounds to declare war on them. Would have the grounds to step in and protect him.

That would be enough to scare Bo-Katan Kryze off. She’d often stop short of causing a war… most of the time.

Before this incident, Din had been terrified Luke would say no, but now…

His eyes lingered on Luke’s bruises, a sickening purple that turned his stomach.

The true terror was of this. Of Luke injured and in pain in Din’s arms. Din helpless to do anything but watch.

Rejection was the lesser pain here, and Din cared too much for Luke to let him go. Din couldn’t bear to see him like this. It hurt too much. 

Unable to help himself, Din reached out- intertwining his hand with Luke’s.

He’d ask Luke to be clan.

The thought of exchanging clan symbols with his Jedi filled him with enough warmth to carry him into the depths of sleep.

Chapter Text

Luke stirred with a hazy start; his chest heavy with some kind of weight, and a warmth on his left he couldn’t remember being there before. A greasy and pervasive unconsciousness oozed and clung to Luke’s waking brain, trying to soak back in and permeate his mind. He fought it, climbing his way to consciousness- feeling frantic as a vague feeling of bad churned his stomach. Something was very wrong.

When Luke finally blinked his eyes open, he was faced with the reddish clay tones of a familiar ceiling, but it wasn’t the same shade as the walls of the hallways he could swear he was in earlier. If Luke wasn’t mistaken, this was a room still in the Mandalorian compound.

With a deep breath, he looked down at his chest, wondering why it felt like something heavy was resting there... Only to find something small and green-skinned with long ears. Through a dazed fog he recognized the small being sitting cross-legged on his chest.

…Grogu?

Grogu was sitting on his chest, his eyes closed and his small hand pressed against where Luke’s heart should be. Luke became aware that muscle and skin were reknitting themselves somewhere in his chest, and what Grogu was trying to do became clear to him despite his befuddled brain. For the moment, all he could distinctly remember was being knocked out, and some parts of a fight in the hallway. Memories of the fight had already started to filter in.

Luke smiled, feeling warm at the kindness Grogu was showing by trying to help- but he didn’t want Grogu to collapse for a week trying to help Luke heal from injuries he was sure to heal from regardless.

Grogu startled as Luke picked him up with his hands gripped under his little arms. He flailed a bit and pouted, making a frustrated noise as Luke set him on the bed to his right.

“I know you want to help, Grogu, but I’ll be fine.” Luke smiled gingerly. His muscles ached and strained a little, but the bed was soft and comforting underneath him.

Grogu huffed, projecting his annoyance at Luke through the Force. It felt like Grogu was chucking hail at him, despite his mental wards.

“I’m not trying to be disrespectful…” Luke paused, hesitating on the mando’a endearment for ‘child’. He was unsure if he was allowed to call Grogu that, but he decided to just go for it anyway. “...ad’ika, I am grateful for your help, but I’ll be fine.”

Grogu softened, reading Luke’s worry for his well-being through the Force.

“Thank you, though.” Luke murmured, through a lingering smile.

Grogu made a happy noise, projecting equally warm feelings back at Luke. Grogu waddled over to hug Luke’s arm, and Luke could swear he felt better already.

A shift to Luke’s left broke his heartwarming moment with Grogu. Luke looked over to find Din lying next to him, his arms wrapped around Luke’s other arm, as warm as ever. Din’s helmet had burrowed into the dip of Luke’s shoulder in his sleep, the silver beskar of it dark with the low light. Night had fallen, so the only light they had to share was coming from the refresher.

Din raised his head, sitting up. He was yawning as he stretched, clearly trying to loosen a stubborn kink in his back. 

“Luke?” he asked, his voice ragged around the edges from sleep and laced with a tinge of something else entirely.

Luke felt delight burst in his chest. He tried to sit up to mirror Din, and winced with the effort. The best he could do for now was rest his head on the bed’s headboard.

“Hey.” Luke murmured softly, keeping his voice down to match the intimacy of the low light. The dark shrouded how good it felt to see Din, creating a shield against the vulenerablity Luke felt.

Grogu made himself comfortable in the bed to Luke’s right, seeming to sense this might be a while.

Din scanned Luke worriedly, his aura a deep pink with just a hint of blood red… A sign of residual emotional pain.

As Din catalogued Luke’s cuts and bruises, the red tinge of blood in his aura dissipated, and as soon as his aura lapsed into a fully pink hue, he flung himself into Luke’s arms. Their embrace was tighter than usual, but still enveloping and warm. This was the nicest thing that had happened to them in the last two hours. Luke couldn’t help but relax and lean into Din, his heart aching as he gulped, feeling his throat tighten with the knowledge that he had indirectly caused Din pain.

“Are you okay?” Luke whispered, letting his forehead fall into the dip of Din’s shoulder.

Din barked out a watery laugh- a slippery, post-crying kind of laugh that was full of unsteadiness “Am I okay? You just got your ass beat, Skywalker. I should be asking you that.”

Luke smiled at his concern, glad they hadn’t lost their banter. He gripped Din’s shoulders tighter. Luke didn’t want to hear that laugh on Din again. The hurt laugh that tugged his heartstrings enough to make him feel like he was going to tear up.

“Are you okay?” Din asked sincerely; voice gentle. He gripped desperately at Luke’s shoulders, and it felt like he didn’t want to let go. It felt like he didn’t want to lose Luke.

Din was rubbing his thumbs against Luke’s skin repetitively in a comforting ministration that Luke often used on him. Luke’s stomach twisted with a consuming need to fall into Din and never find his way back.

“I…” Luke started, scanning his body in his mind’s eye to check.

“If you tell me that you’re fine I swear I’ll…” Din trailed off, whatever joking threat he was going to make died on his tongue. Din gulped, and Luke could feel it against his forehead. Din was clearly struggling to find something threatening to say that he would sincerely mean. He had clearly accidentally touched a nerve, and Luke could sense the turmoil within him.

Blood red injected into Din’s aura once more, and it sent needles scampering down Luke’s skin. He felt a stab in his stomach, and he wished he could promise Din he wouldn’t get hurt anymore. If just so he didn’t have to see this beaten down version of Din again.

Luke smiled ruefully, reaching around Din to pull him closer. Heart to heart, and he wanted to pull Din closer still. Could Luke drown in Din’s soul? Would Din let him?

“I could be better, but I’m not in pain.” Luke murmured. Much pain, anyway. He didn’t want to worry Din.

“Probably the drugs they gave you.” Din replied lowly, and Luke didn’t need the Force to sense that he was smiling at him.

“Probably. I feel a little delirious.” Luke admitted, letting his head fall back onto his pillow.

Din pulled away, but still held Luke’s right hand in his own. Luke left his right hand on his stomach, just to make it easier for Din to keep hold of it.

Luke could see the aura of something small and desperate ringing him as he held on. He was using his thumb to smooth over Luke’s skin again, and Luke was starting to think the comforting motion was more for Din’s sake than his own. He ached to knowing he had worried Din so much.

The need to check if Din was alright seized Luke as he scanned Din’s form; prone and beautiful in the low light. Din’s tanned skin and carefully built muscles were illuminated in bronzed patches, and he looked like a touch of divinity in the dim light. If Luke hadn’t believed in the Force, he would’ve been convinced Din was a visiting deity.

His eyes caught on a couple of angry red, fist shaped bruises that peeked out from the tank top Din was wearing. Without thinking, Luke reached for them, tracing them with his fingers- unable to help himself. His capacity for self-restraint was quite low given the events of the past few hours. (And some pain meds. Luke was poginiently ignoring the bouts of feeling floaty for now.)

“Those weren’t there before.” Luke commented loosely, tracing the outline of one near Din’s collarbone with his pointer finger.

Din paused his ministrations, involuntarily gulping thickly at the touch. “Yeah.”

Luke looked up at Din; pinning him with his gaze.

“What happened?”

Din drew in a long breath. “I…”

Luke could sense the way the question weighed on him. He seemed reluctant to answer the question… Almost ashamed, somehow.

Grogu perked up, having found a tidbit of conversation worth participating in, and tugged on Luke’s shirt. He turned to give the youngling his attention.

Through the Force, Grogu projected a shaky and almost second hand image of Din and the challenger brawling at Luke. He was unsure who Grogu had gotten the memory from; but it was clearly from someone who was tall.

While the fact that Grogu had received a memory from a Force User (of whom Luke had no idea the identity of) bothered him, the content of the memory worried him more.

“You fought him?!” Luke cried out with incredulity, head whipping back to face Din.

“I … uh…” Din looked sheepish, rubbing at the back of his neck.

Luke alternated between cursing fluently in Tusken and Rhodian, and scanning Din up and down.

“You fucking idiot.” Luke scolded light-heartedly but also with concern, punching Din’s right bicep playfully.

Din cringed, clearly knowing this was how Luke would react. “Whoops?”

“Are you okay? Fuck-”

“Luke, I’m fine-“

“You’re not karking fine, you’ve got bruises-“

“Your health is more important right now-“

“The fuck it isn’t, Din.” Luke protested. He turned to Grogu.

“If you want to help someone, ad’ika, you should help your buir. He’s injured too.” Luke smiled at the youngling sweetly, pointing in Din’s direction. He knew Grogu would be fine healing a few bruises and scrapes.

“What? Wait, no-“ Din protested.

But Grogu’s ears had already perked up, and he ambled over to Din, climbing over Luke’s chest to get there.

“I’m fine, ad’ika-“

Grogu ignored him, holding his hand to Din’s chest and focusing. The bruises faded with nothing but a small grunt from Din. Luke could see the Force redirecting into Din’s chest in a small, golden burst.

Din sighed. “You shouldn’t be doing that.”

Grogu pouted, seeming disappointed with his adopted father’s reaction.

“However, thank you, Grogu. I’m proud of you.” Din added, pulling Grogu into his lap to give him a hug. “I just don’t want you to tire yourself out.”

Grogu seemed to understand what Din was saying through Luke. The images of what Din was talking about flickered through Luke’s head as Luke comprehended them. Grogu smiled up at Din, looking proud of himself.

...But then Grogu stilled and started yawning sleepily. The healing had clearly tired him out.

Din seemed reluctant to leave, but it was clear they needed to get Grogu back to Erin’s room so he could rest.

The atmosphere seemed soft despite the edge of tension. Luke wasn’t sure if Din felt it too, but he didn’t want to let Din go- Luke felt the way his chest tightened with an irrational desperation to keep Din next to him. Something about the pulverising he had endured made him want to take comfort in Din so that he could pretend it hadn’t happened.

Din held onto Luke’s hand for a couple of long moments that stretched out for infinity, echoing Luke’s sentiment.

But finally, he looked up, getting up to leave and scooping Grogu into his arms.

When Din came back, his heart was racing in his ears. The fast beating of his heart was all he could hear as he made his way through the Mandalorian compound’s residential wing’s barren, metallic hallways. The more Din thought about just trying to ask Luke to be clan, the harder he found it to breathe. It felt like such a vulnerable thing to ask. The question practically meant ‘Do you love care about me enough to become part of my inner circle?’

Din might as well offer up his heart on a platter instead.

Din stopped at the doors. Taking a deep and anchoring breath to steady himself, he stood taller, fortifying himself with determination.

There was no turning back now.

Din shrugged off his shoes at the door, a habit he’d formed after seeing how much cleaner his floor had been after Luke was so insistent on not wearing shoes in Din’s space. He also needed them off to climb into his bed.

“Is that the prince or are my eyes deceiving me?” Luke joked from where he was half laid out on the bed.

Din sighed. He could bet Luke would laugh in the face of death, too. He could see which side of the family the young Skywalker had gotten it from.   

“It’s been eons. My body is failing me.” Luke was being dramatic as he pretended to be old and wizened. He threw a forearm across his forehead to add to the effect. Din couldn’t help but chuckle, albeit nervously, at Luke’s antics.

“I apologize for taking so long, mesh’la.” Din settled himself in the same spot to the left of Luke on the bed that he had been in before he had left.

“So I’m an idiot now? Well I can’t tell which of us is more stupid at the moment, so you’ll have to check back on that later.” Luke shot him a meaningful look.

Din sighed. “I’m sorry, alright? I…”

Luke softened at Din’s sincerity, reaching out for Din again. It was like they were both magnetized- unable to stop clinging to the other. The unspoken ‘Please don’t leave. Please don’t be taken from me’ zinging in the air between them. 

There was a frustrated noise from Din before he forced himself to get it out.

“The challenger tried to kick you. After you got knocked out. I… I couldn’t help it.” Din admitted.

Luke felt his chest swell, and his throat closed up a little from how much the admission meant to him. The undertones of ‘I care about you’ were overwhelming, even if Din hadn’t verbally admitted that he cared. Din had never been the greatest with words, but Luke could read between the lines enough for the both of them.

Luke smiled, slow like a sunrise. Sparks caught in Din’s stomach.

“My hero.” Luke commented lopsidedly, half sincere and half to get a rise out of Din, his smile going askew and into a smirk. The pain meds brought out the sincerity of his comment.

“Not really. You’re in this mess because of me.” Din mumbled, feeling miserable.

“Hey…” Luke gentled, his tone opposing Din’s statement. “This isn’t your fault. I chose to accept the challenge.”

“I know, but we walked right into their political bait and I should’ve seen it coming.” Din protested, looking despondent.

Luke shot a soft ‘you’re kidding, right?’ look at him, and Din couldn’t help but avert his gaze. It was too open, too close to openly caring, too... too vulnerable to fully face.

“We both wouldn’t have been able to see it coming, and I have the Force on my side.” Luke lectured. “I didn’t know that they would try and prod me into revealing myself, and I don’t think we could’ve known that that was what they were planning to try.”

“They what?” Din demanded, a flare of anger striking like a match deep in his stomach. He sat up straighter to look Luke in the eye, his aura blazing.

Luke shied away for a moment. Din’s anger on his account made Luke’s heart flutter despite Din’s scariness when he was pissed off.

“The guy taunted me, saying something about ‘showing my true colours’ and called me a monster.” Luke shrugged, trying to make it seem like no big deal. Like it didn’t make something in his lower abdomen twinge with a dull hurt. “I decided the best thing to do was to not let them win through getting me angry enough to reveal myself.”

Din growled. He had clearly gone too easy on that challenger.

Luke glanced at Din, seeing his anger and not wanting it to overwhelm Din.

Trying not to overthink it, Luke reached out, pulling Din’s hand into his chest.

“Don’t try to fight him again. Promise me you won’t?”

Din let out a long and frustrated breath, staring at his beloved. “Why doesn’t this bother you? Shouldn’t he feel the pain that you felt? Is that not fair?”

“Because I have faith in the Force. Ultimately, the challenger will get what he did to me done back to him eventually. After all, balance and equal return are universal laws of the Force.” Luke shrugged. “Besides, if I let a thirst for revenge cloud my judgement… that’s an easy path to the dark side.”

Din sighed, letting his head dip.

There was a long moment before Luke spoke again.

“Also, I get the feeling he was sufficiently roughed up by you anyway. So…I don’t really see an issue.”

“Sor-“ Din’s head shot up, about to apologize. He knew it wasn’t the Jedi way.

“It’s alright, Din. I don’t pretend to judge your actions by a Jedi code which you don’t follow. If you truly felt it was important, I wouldn’t stop you.” Luke sighed. “So long as you’re not needlessly killing someone innocent in front of me.”

Din felt something in his chest relax. He hadn’t realized he’d been worried about how Luke would react to him fighting the challenger in a pique of rage until just now.

“Thank you.” Din murmured, his voice a little hoarse.

“It is kind of satisfying to hear, though... Did it feel good?” Luke asked.

Din smirked to himself, remembering the way the man had growled and shrieked at him. It was perverse to enjoy this sort of thing, he knew, but the satisfaction of justice served was too good not to savour.

“Yeah.”

Luke smirked back at him.

There was a long moment where they just looked at each other, enjoying this shared moment in the low light of Din’s bed. There was a deep intimacy to it that felt like weaving beams of starlight. Warm, effervescent, and bigger than the two of them.

Din cleared his throat, feeling his heartbeat kick up in his throat. He leaned towards Luke.

“Uh…”

Luke shot him a questioning look.

He used the hand Luke wasn’t holding to rub at the back of his neck nervously.

“I actually had a question…” Din muttered, his chest lurching.

“Alright, but if it’s about my secret youngling child, I swear they don’t exist.”

“Huh?”

“I’m kidding. What is it?”

Din took a deep breath through his nose, forcing himself to look Luke in the eye. He gathered his strength, feeling it pool in his gut as he stared at Luke. Din could feel the way his chest rattled with his pounding heart, but he pushed through it.

“Would you like to be clan with me?”

Luke blinked, surprised by the question.

“Clan? That’s like… inner circle, right?”

Please say yes please say yes please say yes please say yes-

In the momentary silence, the loud, rapid beating of Din’s heart roared in his ears.

“Yeah. Like inner circle. I wanted to ask because… I don’t want this to happen again.” Din felt his chest relax minutely as he explained his logic. “If you’re clan, then Bo-Katan can’t have her tribe challenge you without declaring war on my tribe.”

“Oh.” Luke’s cheeks went pink, and it echoed in Din’s chest like a flickering ray of sunlight.

“Din…” Luke breathed, staring up at Din earnestly. “Of course I’d want to be clan with you.”

Din’s heart beat slowed minutely, and he could feel himself breathe a little easier.

“It would be my honour.” Luke murmured, pulling Din close and into a hug. Din could still feel his heart pitter pattering, and he felt jittery with the relief washing through him. Thank the gods.

Din pulled away, though not by choice. He wanted to cling to Luke like he was an escape pod in the middle of the vastness of space. He tried to move to sit in front of Luke, so that Din could take his clan necklace off and give it to him, but Luke’s legs were in the way.

Luke chuckled, the laugh hitting Din in a burst of vivid colour. “C’mere.”

“Huh?” Din looked up from where he was looking at Luke’s knees.

Luke patted his thighs invitingly, looking a little lopsided- was this the drugs?

“Are you sure? I’m heavy-”

“Good.” Luke replied sincerely, eyes twinkling. He was smirking, and Din couldn’t find it in himself to argue, finding himself sliding to sit straddling Luke’s thighs. Din couldn’t stop blushing, his cheeks turning scarlet with the heat that flushed through him.

He noticed Luke’s face was equally flushed- did this mean that he felt the same? Or was the central cooling malfunctioning?

Whatever it was, the colouring of Luke’s cheeks gave Din the courage to press on.

Despite feeling embarrassed about it, Din liked his new view. He liked the way Luke was looking up at him for a change. It made all of this feel a little less daunting.

Luke’s eyes gleamed with hidden depths- there was something in them that lit his chest up, like sunbeams were reaching for and wrapping around his heart. Din watched Luke carefully as Din reached around his neck, not missing the appreciative glance he received from Luke as he took his clan necklace off. The pendant was pretty commonplace for a Mandalorian clan necklace; it was a silver mythosaur skull. A symbol of a child of Mandalore.

Then, Din leaned forward into Luke’s personal space, holding the cord of the necklace open over Luke’s head. Din slid the cord over Luke’s head, watching as it tumbled into place; sliding over Luke’s dirty blonde hair. The pendant found a place to nestle itself on Luke’s collarbones.

Luke was watching him carefully, lips parted and pupils dilated- it took everything in Din to restrain himself from resting his forehead against Luke’s in a keldabe kiss. The need to get closer to Luke was overwhelming. It itched under his skin in a hot rush through his veins.

It was too much. He was drowning in Luke’s sunlight, heart racing like a ship going into hyperspace. Not sure where this would take them, but putting his trust in Luke despite it all.

“Do you have a clan symbol?” Din murmured kindly, leaning back minutely.

“Uh…” Luke hesitated, seeming to think about it. “Not really? Jedi don’t have that sort of thing.”

Din’s heart sank. They’d need a clan symbol to seal the deal, according to the traditions of Mandalore and his creed.

Luke’s eyes skimmed over the way Din’s shoulders fell a little.

“But, uh… There’s my amplifier?”

Din looked up, raising an eyebrow despite knowing Luke couldn’t see it through his helmet.

“Your what?”

“I guess it could work.” Luke reached up to his neck, digging under the necklace Din had placed around his neck to show Din the pendant of a pretty familiar circular chunk of faint green crystal. It hung on a cord around Luke’s neck.

“It’s kyber crystal- it amplifies the Force around you so it’s easier to access. If you’re in space, sometimes it’s hard to connect to the Force because there’s less of it around. It’s useful for things like that... My sister gave it to me for our eighteenth birthday.”

Din hesitated, unwilling to ask Luke to part with the necklace if it was so meaningful to him.

Luke bit his lip, eyes glinting with thought, gazing up at Din with unadulterated feeling...

…And reached up to his neck, pulling it up and off his neck by the necklace’s cord. Manoeuvring it around Din’s helmet, Luke placed it- gentle as ever- around Din’s neck. Din could feel the weight of the smooth chunk of crystal as it settled around his neck; hanging in the space between them.

Perhaps Din could be Luke's anchor to the Force now. Luke mused to himself as he stared up at Din. The closer he was to Din, the easier the Force would be to access from now on.

But he'd felt like that for a while now, anyway. 

Din couldn’t breathe- everything felt too good, too… He’d crashed into the sun here and he wasn’t sure he’d ever get over how his body was alight with Luke’s sunlight. He was drowning- everything was too bright, too good, but he loved it. Despite how terrifying the openness of it was, he felt safe doing this with Luke.

“Are you sure? I’d never ask that of you-”

“I know, Din. I want to.” Luke gentled, intertwining his left hand with Din’s, resting his head back into the cradle of Din’s shoulder. He seemed to like that spot, and Luke’s forehead resting there was comforting for them both. Din wasn’t sure when that had happened.

Jedi or Mandalorian; the distinctions didn't matter now. Not between the two of them. Never between the two of them. That was the promise they were making here. 

Din felt the depth of meaning of Luke’s small sacrifice as a deep tug in his stomach, feeling a thrill rush through him. With a start, Din realized he could finally give Luke something- even if it wasn’t as grand or monumental as the things Luke had sacrificed for him, time and time again, to be with him.

With a shink, Din removed his helmet. His hands were shaky as he placed it on the bed to his right.

Luke looked up, surprised at the motion, before realising Din had taken his helmet off, and looked away just as quickly in alarm and respect.

“Oh fuck- I’m sorry-“ Luke apologized, voice thick and loud with panic and emotion.

If I profane with my unworthiest hand

This holy shrine, the gentle fine is this:

Din hummed, letting himself ease into the shakiness he felt- the nerves and how much he loved and cared for Luke overwhelming him and pulling him under in a tsunami of feeling. Din was reminded of how much he had to lose here by indulging in this, but he was also reminded of how much he stood to gain. How much he stood to give to Luke. Din didn’t remove his helmet for just anyone, and Luke was clan now; his creed allowed it.

Stomach churning, Din couldn’t help but think about how willing he was to put himself out on such a far limb for Luke if it meant that the events of earlier were never repeated. He never wanted to see Luke in that much pain again, and... If Luke didn’t know how much he meant to Din, if something like that happened again then-

Din lifted his right hand to Luke’s chin, turning it back to face him, urging him to turn back and look at him. Trying to tell him that it was okay.

“It’s alright, cyar’ika…” Din gentled, voice catching as Luke finally allowed himself to just look at Din with no barriers or walls present. Din felt exposed and open as Luke reached up, feeling Luke’s thumb skimming his cheek with a tenderness beyond his comprehension.  Din’s skin sparked wherever Luke’s fingers touched. Din stilled, letting himself savour this moment, his eyes fluttering shut of their own accord to revel in the touch. Letting Luke look his fill.

But Din wanted to look at Luke now too, without the helmet. His eyes snapped open to take Luke in anew. The colours that painted Luke’s face were startling. Captivating, now that he could see them. Luke’s skin and eyes and lips and hair were more vivid without the helmet, and Din was captured in the enthral of how beautiful they truly were. It was as if someone had taken the colours and deepened them, each brush stroke laid with clear care… Din felt like he was staring at a painting worthy of an art museum instead of Luke in the flesh.

My lips, two blushing pilgrims, ready stand

To smooth that rough touch with a tender kiss.

Din felt as exposed as he’d ever felt- this exposure was comparable to the raw vulnerability he’d felt once as a child when the droids had attacked. But his heart was racing in a good way this time, and he didn’t know what he’d do if Luke turned around and decided Din wasn’t enough for him. He wasn’t sure if Luke seeing what Din looked like would change how Luke felt for him. It felt like Luke was holding Din’s still beating heart cupped in his graceful hands, and Din was holding his breath to see what Luke would do with it.

But he saw something in the way that Luke’s lips parted, the way he stared up at Din with such open and soft ardour… The way it echoed within his own moonlit soul-

Good pilgrim, you do wrong your hand too much,

Which mannerly devotion shows in this;

For saints have hands that pilgrims' hands do touch,

And palm to palm is holy palmers' kiss.

How could he have doubted the possibility that Luke felt the same? Luke was aglow with divine light, and Din just couldn’t hold back how he felt for his Jedi anymore. It was spilling out before he could help it.

“Luke… can I kiss you?”

Heart in his throat, he felt as scattered and charged as moonbeams ought to have felt.

Have not saints lips, and holy palmers too?

Luke’s eyes widened, eyes flicking between Din’s intense gaze and his lips. Din held his breath; all Luke would have to do was say no in order to break his heart. His heart was racing and there was nothing but the eternal wait between his question and Luke’s answer-

Ay, pilgrim, lips that they must use in prayer.

“Please.” Luke’s voice was soft, whispered and suffused with ardour.

O, then, dear saint, let lips do what hands do;

They pray, grant thou, lest faith turn to despair.

Din didn’t need to be told twice as he leaned into Luke, his mouth connecting with Luke’s- he fell into the softness of Luke’s pink mouth.

It was chaste and lingering- momentary. His heart raced with the I love you he couldn’t bring himself to say quite yet. Din didn’t have much experience with kissing. He’d never done it before. (The helmet had always been an obstacle.) But he savoured it as best as he could, pulling back minutely with a hesitancy to overwhelm Luke.

Saints do not move, though grant for prayers' sake.

“Oh fuck no.” Luke muttered lowly, and then his lips captured Din’s again eagerly, this time more roughly, leaning up and off his pillow to do so. Din’s face flushed with tingly sparks that chased each other through his body like fire. The lines of where Din ended and Luke began went fuzzy and started to fade as he shifted forward in Luke’s lap- letting Luke take control of the kiss. Luke fell back against the bed to accommodate.

Then move not, while my prayer's effect I take.

Thus from my lips, by yours, my sin is purged.

Luke had obviously done this before. He was doing this thing where he pushed and pulled at Din’s lips with his own that drove Din crazy, and trailing warmth all over his body. Din felt more moonlight… more starlight than man as he chased for it in Luke’s mouth. 

There was a gasp. Din didn’t know who it had come from, but he tried to move with Luke as they kissed. Luke still had his hand gripping Din’s jaw, and they slowly found a rhythm under Luke’s direction. Din was teetering on the edge of a supernova, Luke’s sunlight absolutely baking his body in the type of heat that took his breath away.

Then have my lips the sin that they have took.

There was something beautifully sinful in the way the pair pressed against each other; moving in and then out, only to come back in again- crashing together, magnetized with a gravity so intense they could’ve been planets. 

As the kiss grew in intensity, they started trading open mouthed kisses while Din learnt how to breathe through his nose. Luke had his hands in Din’s hair- his fingers danced across his face as if trying to explore it without having to stop, and-

They pulled apart, breathing heavily. Din pressed his forehead to Luke’s in a keldabe kiss, unsure whether Luke recognized the gesture for what it was.

Sin from thy lips? O trespass sweetly urged!

Give me my sin again.

Luke's eyes seemed to take in Din’s face as if he was scared he’d never see it again- taking it in hungrily, with a touch of something tender lying beneath. His hands cupped Din’s jaw, and Din felt the entirety of his stomach melt into honey. It was too much- too good, too-

Din brought his hands to Luke’s face, unsure of what he was doing as he did so. He swiped his thumb against Luke’s bottom lip the way he’d wanted to for a while now, causing Luke to tug the corner of his mouth up into a small smile. Luke bit his bottom lip, watching Din with mischief gleaming in his eyes.

It was hard for Din to resist leaning back in to press a kiss to Luke’s mouth- revelling in how warm and enveloping it felt. Din was burning to a crisp in Luke’s atmosphere, but Din couldn’t bring himself to care. If Din burned, then he burned.

You kiss by the book.

Luke gathered Din up and into his lap, gripping Din’s thighs as he kissed Din’s jaw; sucking at the sensitive skin there…

Din could feel his brain short circuit, and he struggled to think beyond Luke, Luke, Luke-

Din tore himself away, not wanting them to get ahead of themselves. All he could do was pull Luke into his arms and breathe, trying to get enough oxygen to his brain to tell Luke what he wanted- needed to tell him. 

He had to tell Luke while his soul was still soaring, still mind numbingly melted.

But how should he start? Where should he start? This feeling was so large and encompassing- there was no beginning or end to it; it just was.

They were pressed shoulder to shoulder; hip to hip. Their shared magnetism finally having been given into.

Din decided to begin with the truth.

“For a while there… I thought you were dead.” Din mumbled into Luke’s shoulder.

“Huh?”

“When you collapsed, back when you were fighting that guy.”

“Oh…”

Luke shifted, bringing his arms around Din’s shoulders. “Din…” he sighed softly, realising what was hurting him.

“I know that only karking nuclear missiles or some shit can kill you lot, but…”

“That’s not true, Din. You know that as well as I do.”

Din did. They’d killed enough of each other’s people to know that. It just made it all the more scary to think about how Luke wasn’t invincible.

Luke sighed, pressing a kiss to Din’s left cheek. There was a pull in Din’s heart; like the closer it got to Luke’s heart the more forcibly it tried to pull towards it.

“I’m not dead.”

“You could be. Someday.”

“You’re not immortal either, Din.”

“I know.”Din sighed, dropping his head into Luke’s shoulder. He took a steadying breath, determined to tell Luke how he felt no matter if he wanted to hesitate.

“I know I’m not immortal either, but I didn’t want you to die not knowing how in love with you I am, Luke”

Luke took in a sharp breath.

“You deserve to know.” Din added. This was easier to say without looking into Luke’s intense violet blue eyes. Easier to whisper into the space where Din’s skin met Luke’s.

Luke pulled away so he could look at Din.

“You…” Luke took in a breath for strength, everything intimate and aching about the unsure territory they were breaking into. “You’re in love with me?” he gulped.

Din nodded, feeling shy.

“You don’t have to… feel the same, it’s just… I want you to know.” Din admitted, silently praying they were on the same page. Luke didn’t just kiss anybody, right? Those kisses had to mean something?

Luke leaned into Din’s breathing space, just starting to realize he was allowed to be there whenever he pleased- and revelling in it.

“I have feelings for you as well, Din.” Luke admitted in a soft murmur, letting his forehead fall into Din’s. Din could feel Luke’s hair on his cheek. “Just… I don’t think that… I’m really ready to say the same?”

Din smiled. “That’s alright. I’m not asking-”

“It’s not that I don’t feel the same, Din… It's just always been hard for me to say. The Jedi aren’t exactly the most supportive of romantic relationships. I guess that rubs off no matter how hard you try.”

“Is that what we are?” Din asked, his tone flirty but earnest.

Luke chuckled. “I thought it was obvious?”

“It isn’t to me, cyar’ika.”

Luke huffed dramatically, a smile on his lips.

“I’m not sure what more you could ask of me; you’re already my prince.”

Din pulled away to look Luke in the eyes, feeling a shiver go down his spine at how different the direct eye contact felt now that there was no helmet between them.

“And… you are mine, I suppose?”

“I’m not a prince, Djarin.”

Din looked at Luke- really looked. Luke? With his golden dirty blonde hair, well toned muscles and glinting blue eyes…?

“You could’ve fooled me.”

Luke snorted.

“Well… some do say my father is the chosen one, so I could be.”

Din blinked.

“What?”

“The one who’s supposed to bring balance to the Force. It’s what my grandfather’s master thought.”

It took a moment to take in, but Din seemed to blink his way out of his initial surprise.

“So I am dating the golden boy of the Jedi?” Din smirked. “I knew it.”

“Ha! In my humble opinion- that’s all bullshit”

“But your father is incredibly strong with the Force, isn’t he? That’s what I’ve heard. He’s the most powerful Jedi in millenia. Our military doesn't know what to do with him.”

“He doesn’t exactly have the head to use it at times. He definitely has his childish side, but… our family keeps him from letting him get too far ahead of himself.” Luke shrugged.

Din smiled, and Luke didn’t think he could get enough of seeing that smile.

“We finally got into bed together and all you want to do is talk about my father.” Luke grumbled jokingly, just to see Din laugh again. Mission accomplished.

“Well, what else do you want to talk about?” Din laughed.

“I mean… I can think of other ways to use that mouth of yours.” Luke smirked up at Din, his voice dropping an octave.

He was rewarded when Din shut up and blushed deep red in the low light. The delicate mix of deep red and shades of bronze was an especially fetching combination.

So that’s what he looked like when he blushed.

Luke’s mouth went dry with how good Din looked.

Din’s face broke into a slow smile.

“Well then, mesh’la. Come over here and show me.” he flirted back. Luke was more than happy to meet this challenge.

Luke melted into Din, and for the first time in a long time, Luke felt at one with the universe once more.

Chapter Text

Luke was still clinging on to the memory of Din’s kisses as he tumbled over the windowsill of his room the following morning.

Din had tried to insist on Luke staying, citing the fact that he had just gotten beaten up as a very convincing reason, but they both knew that being beaten up would be the least of their worries if Luke got caught sneaking back into his room. Luke had to return before anyone caught wind that he'd been gone at all. 

 With a heavy heart, Luke had left Din. Din, who had been warm and inviting and pliant in his bed, tangled up in the sheets that now smelt like them...

Before he’d left, Luke had taken another dose of painkillers, and Din had promised to send him the medic’s instructions so that he could follow them. Luke had blushed at Din’s doting, knowing full well that whatever the medic said, he would need less time to heal anyway- being Force sensitive had its perks.

Luke reckoned that leaving Din’s room had been one of his most difficult endeavours yet- the urge to fall back into each other had only strengthened given last night’s revelations. Luke felt the steadily increasing pull to Din deep within his chest as they indulged in one goodbye kiss after another, lingering and unable to find the strength to pull away, except in each other. Luke had had to wrench himself away from Din’s addicting touch.

Luke could still feel Din’s face under his fingertips as he closed the window of his room, wandering over to his bed and plopping down in a stunned daze.

Did that really happen? That definitely hadn’t been a dream, right?

The door to Luke’s room opened with a loud and abrupt shhk! Luke had sensed his sister's presence before the door had even opened, so the noise hadn’t made him jump.

“Spill.” Leia demanded, standing in the doorway in all her stylish glory. She was wearing a teal jumpsuit with white trim today, and Luke couldn’t tell where her clothes ended and her Force signature started.

“Can’t I have just one good thing for myself in this family?” Luke groaned, dramatically covering his face so Leia couldn’t see how hard he was blushing from where she was standing. Luke was tired and dearly needed a nap- he didn’t have the energy to entertain his sister.

“Not if I can help it.” Leia smirked, barging in and stomping up to Luke’s bed, an all-knowing, victorious look on her smug face. “I know you’re just dying to tell everyone, you absolute simp.”

Luke groaned loudly and flipped her the bird, rolling over so as to not have to face her.

“Come on, Luke!! Take pity on your loveless sister,” Leia cajoled, flopping with all her might onto Luke’s bed to annoy him with the way the bed rippled. “Please?”

“You’re so shameless. It’s embarrassing.” Luke sighed dramatically, obviously giving in. He sat up to face a grinning Leia.

“So, …. what happened?”, Leia teased slyly. As Force Sensitive twins, one could intuitively feel what the other was actively feeling at times, given their rare and unique Force bond. Luke knew the intensity of last night’s emotions would’ve been like sending up fireworks to Leia’s room… and commanding an army of love-sick butterflies to infiltrate her stomach.

“Okay, so...” Luke mentally reviewed the events of last night, trying to find a good place to begin. “I got into a fight?” Luke covered the details of the fight in their heads through the Force for safety reasons. ‘It was a whole political thing, but I kind of got my ass beat so that I could continue pretending I’m not a Jedi. ’

“So that was what all the random spurts of anger were about...” Leia mused, scanning her brother’s body for any missing limbs. “You’re good though. Right?”

“Yeah,” Luke shrugged, “Should be okay in a couple of days. I’ve got painkillers.”

Leia nodded, clearly satisfied with Luke’s diligence.

“Anyway, getting knocked out scared him pretty bad- we had a whole feelings talk.”

Leia waggled her eyebrows at Luke suggestively, and he sighed longsufferingly, ashamed on her behalf. 

“Well I know something happened!” Leia protested against his antics. Luke rolled his eyes, blushing a deep shade of red.

Leia gasped in realization at his blush.  “Did… did you two fuck? Is that why you won’t-”

If Luke was red faced already, his whole face was aflame with an embarrassed flush by now. “Forces no, Leia! Stars ...” Luke cut her off before she could embarrass him further. The image Leia had conjured was probably stuck in his head to torture him forever, though.

“You’d like to, though.” Leia crooned, enjoying the way her bluntness made Luke’s face heat up further with the image.

“Fuck you, Leia.” Luke groaned, burrowing his head deep into his pillows. Without looking up, he reached for the grass plushie his mum had bought him and threw it at Leia in retaliation. “I hate you so much.”

They both knew he didn’t mean it, and Leia pulled Luke’s dramatic ass up and out of his pillows, now chasing last night’s juicer details.

“So???” Leia prodded, her smile turning up at the corners suggestively.

Luke sighed. ‘He asked me to be clan and kissed me.’, he admitted through the Force.

Her jaw dropped, her hands going to cover her mouth in shock, eyes wide.

“No way, really?!” Leia’s grin grew on her face slowly as it sunk in. “That’s amazing! I’m so happy for you!”

Luke smiled back ruefully.

“I may have…”, he chuckled nervously, “...used the necklace you gave me as a clan symbol, though.” He muttered in a rush, wincing, waiting.

“You did what -” Leia’s smile shifted quickly into a glower. “Luke! That necklace was two hundred dollars!!”

Luke cowered away from his now ticked off twin sister, smiling an unrepentant but guilty smile. “I’m sorry?”

Leia thwacked him with one of his pillows. “I know you’re not actually sorry, you little shit.”

“But at least I’m getting some now?” Luke tried to reason with her. Leia sighed, rubbing her temples as if Luke was the headache she couldn’t get rid of.

“Fucking hell.”

 “I promise that if we break up I’ll fight him to get it back?” Luke tried, in an attempt to comfort Leia. Luke’s Force Sensitivity kicked in and he intuitively knew that he was dead.

“You have two seconds to run.” Leia warned threateningly. Given the pissed off glint in her eye, Luke knew she was being serious.

Luke got up, scampering out the door like his ass was on fire. He’d had a feeling Leia would kill him for giving Din his necklace as a clan symbol.

The twins were up to something.

Of that, Ahsoka was sure. She had first noticed this about a month ago, when the conspiratorial looks they tended to share started becoming more and more frequent.

Then, Leia and Luke had started to trail off into non-verbal Force telepathy mid conversation even more often than they usually did. At random intervals in the middle of meals with Anakin, Obi Wan and Ahsoka, the twins would stop talking and exchange a wide range of expressions as they’d communicate telepathically. While it was frustrating to everyone else when Luke and Leia’s verbal conversation dropped out completely, it was as natural as breathing to the Skywalker siblings, and Ahsoka was well aware of that.

But, the thing was... Ahsoka was the cool aunt. The chill aunt. The one that the whole family turned to if they wanted to make some mischief, or throw a party. Her recklessness had mellowed a little with her age and gradual maturity, but she was still as lively as ever.

Whenever the twins would hatch elaborate and strategic plots for their pranks, they would almost always include Ahsoka in their mischievous scheming.

Usually, the beginning of those pranks were marked by the behaviour the twins were exhibiting now- conspiratorial looks, exaggerated facial expressions, and conversation drop outs in the middle of the mess hall. It was almost always after the conversation drop outs stage that the twins would bring Ahsoka into the loop, carefully explaining their plans for whatever they were going to try to do behind the Council's backs. (And usually pinning it on Anakin.)

Ahsoka could still remember when she had helped the twins fill Master Ki-Adi-Mundi's quarters with sand back when Luke and Leia would visit the Republic flagship annually to stay with their mother. Back then, they would only prank council members who had pissed them off. Obi Wan used to (and still did) make jabs at various council members who had gotten on his nerves during family dinners, and the twins would use Obi Wan’s grumbling to pick their targets.

At the time, Master Ki-Adi-Mundi had (if Ahsoka remembered correctly) opposed the push Obi Wan had made for a clone rights bill, citing that they 'needed to focus on the war and think about such things later.' But Obi Wan and the rest of the family had agreed that it was paramount that the bill was passed as soon as humanly possible. If the Jedi chose to neglect the rights and freedoms of their troops, were they truly any better than the separatists?

So Luke and Leia had stewed for a while, telepathically (for the sake of secrecy, of course) debating the best way to get back at Master Ki-Adi-Mundi.

Their (Luke, Leia, and Ashoka’s) plan had been perfect. No security detail left unnoticed, no precaution too small.

The three of them were lugging big bags of sand in a trolley that floated behind them, the bags  had been disguised as sacks of ration powder to put in the ration bar machine by Leia. The sacks looked innocent enough.

Ahsoka had taken care of the surveillance cams beforehand, but when they got to Master Ki-Adi-Mundi’s door they found a little contraption waiting for them underfoot.

"Luke." Leia hissed under her breath, passing him a multi-use screwdriver tool. The trio had expected this, having scouted the room beforehand. There was a trip sensor at the threshold of the door, and in order to proceed without alerting Master Ki-Adi-Mundi, they'd have to disable it. While this sort of extra security was strange for a Jedi's quarters, Master Ki-Adi-Mundi had always been the paranoid sort.

Out of the three of them, Luke's mechanical skills ranked the highest, so he was designated with the heavy task of trying to disable the trip sensor as fast as he possibly could while praying it wasn’t suddenly time for a shift change. If the hallways flooded with people, they’d all be caught within seconds, let alone minutes.

"Not to pressure you, but..." Ahsoka muttered to him in warning as she watched, her gaze flitting between Luke working furiously near the foot of the door and the hallway where people were slowly starting to trickle past.

"Got it!" Luke exclaimed quietly, watching the purple light of the trip sensor die. He stepped into the room with haste, hurrying Ahsoka and Leia along as he went.

Once inside, they set to work emptying the bags of sand onto the floor until the room resembled the lovely shores of Scarif, or a Tatooinian hut after a sandstorm. After the trio had emptied out all the sand from the ‘ration powder’ sacks in their trolley, it was hard to get to the bed alcove without wading, thigh-deep, through the stuff.

When they had finished their work, Luke met Ahsoka's gaze, beaming with mischievous glee. Luke’s hair was a mess, he had sand everywhere and he looked like the Tatooine child he was supposed to be. As did Leia.

Ahsoka, with help from her niece, folded the trolley contraption up so it was small enough to fit it through the air vent shaft, and Leia climbed up and into the shaft while Ahsoka waited for Luke. Luke was fiddling with the sensor at the foot of the door, and she needed to keep an eye on Master Ki-Adi-Mundi through the cams on her datapad while Luke worked so they weren't discovered. His meeting was bound to end right about now.

Luke made short work of reactivating the digital trip wire sensor at the door, and turned to Ahsoka to give her a thumbs up before he climbed into the air vent shaft with her help. Ahsoka swiftly climbed in after him, bringing up the rear.

Together, they made their victory crawl back to Ahsoka’s quarters through the air vents to the melodious sounds of Master Ki-Adi-Mundi roaring in shock and frustration.

Master Ki-Adi-Mundi's reaction had been priceless. His hatred for sand was as famous as Anakin’s, and the clear retribution for his remarks at the last council meeting was clear (Ki-Adi-Mundi didn’t have that many enemies). He (and the rest of the Council) had blamed Anakin, and Anakin had never been one to complain if he'd been accused of reckless mischief. If reckless mischief gave him street cred, then who was he to argue with what he had or hadn’t done?

Obi Wan knew full well that it had been Ahsoka and the twins who had pulled off the sandy stunt not Anakin, but he wasn’t about to give them up as the perpetrators. It was too satisfying to see Master Ki-Adi-Mundi get his due for him to do that. He wouldn't have necessarily sanctioned it, but what's done is done. 

Yoda also knew that it wasn't Anakin, but he had told Ahsoka that he was happy to keep pretending Anakin was responsible for Luke, Leia, and Ashoka’s mischief and brilliance. Yoda usually agreed with the reasoning behind the trio’s antics, and he'd be damned if he ousted them and stopped his council members from getting the retribution they deserved if they made stupid decisions.

In other words: Yoda had a mischievous streak and he wasn't afraid to lean into it.

Ahsoka respected him for that.

Ahsoka let out a deep sigh, tracing her thoughts and reminiscing back to her original problem- Luke and Leia were holding out on her.

Ahsoka could sense that there was something the twins were hiding. Something that her niece and nephew were keeping from everyone.

The echo of Ahsoka’s footsteps ricocheted off the beige, cavernous and egg-like walls of the Jedi compound hallway as she embarked on a grounding afternoon walk. She walked slowly and took her time, giving each of her thoughts the merit they deserved.   

No matter what, Ahsoka decided, she didn’t want to disrespect her niece and nephew’s boundaries. She respected their boundaries and was happy to abide by them, but…

She couldn’t help but be worried. She’d rather they talk to her about a secret problem and sort it out than not know anything about it and have it blow up in everyone’s faces later.

"Now wait a minute, that's not fair!" A masculine voice, one Ahsoka could only recognise as her nephew's, shouted somewhere behind her. Luke was striding ahead, passing Ahsoka fuming and at an almost indignant pace.

Leia followed him, the attitude and pace of her gait rivaling her brother’s. She effortlessly caught up to Luke and shot him a look of contempt, scrunching her nose up and crossing her arms as a series of exaggerated expressions crossed her face. Ahsoka knew from experience that once they had each dug their heels in about something, neither budged until someone told them to knock it off.

With a loud gasp, Luke reared back as if insulted. Perhaps he had been, but Ahsoka had never been privy to Luke and Leia's Force conversations.

Leia then looked away and turned her nose up, infuriation clouding her face. Was she winning the argument? Ahsoka couldn't tell.

Ahsoka coughed loudly to get their attention, shrugging one of her lekku off her shoulders so she could face them with ease.

Her niece and nephew had stopped in the middle of the empty hallway, and were staring each other down in an argumentative tableau. "Look, I don't know what you two are arguing about, but it's clear that neither of you are winning."

Their glares turned on Ahsoka, and Ahsoka sighed. 

"Stop it. Both of you." Ahsoka demanded, putting her hands on her hips.

"Or what?" Leia asked, without sparing her aunt any attitude.

"Or I'll tell Padmé." Ahsoka threatened. The unspoken 'and Anakin' passed in the air between them.

That weakened their ire a little. Pulling the Aunt card always helped.

Luke huffed, crossing his arms and looking expectantly at Leia, silently hoping she might let the matter go for now. Leia looked a little less keen to drop whatever it was they were arguing about, straightening up and crossing her arms at the both of them stubbornly.

After a minute of tense silence, Leia finally dropped her arms to her sides.

"Fine!", she relented, nearly in sync with Luke relaxing his shoulders with a sigh, making a beeline for the room she shared with Ahsoka.

Luke shot Leia's retreating figure one last dirty look before stomping off in the direction of his own room.

As Ahsoka watched them go, all she could think about was how she hadn't had to separate those two like that since they had been kids. Her intervention was barely needed since she was usually in the loop enough to know how to mediate between Luke and Leia.

She decided, then and there, that it had been long enough since she’d known what was troubling her niece and nephew. She'd given them a month to come to her of their own accord about it, and they had only drifted farther away from help and each other.

Ahsoka had respected their boundaries, but now that their limits were only hurting them, it looked like it was time for Ahsoka to take matters into her own hands.

Enough was enough.

Chapter Text

Arc 3:

Enthalpy and Entropy

Luke could feel the way the new weight around his heart trailed him during the following weeks that he spent at home. The weight on his chest was new and unfamiliar; the difference from his Force anchor startling. He couldn’t help but spare a thought for it every morning that he stood in the refresher, sliding it onto his neck with a small smile. It settled heavily in the centre of his décolletage; the silver pendant of a mythosaur sat gleaming and suspicious in the mirror's reflection. 

There was something about carrying such a symbol that felt a little like betrayal. Luke knew that the notion was absurd, but he couldn’t help but wonder if his friends that had already joined with the Force were watching him, feeling let down for not fighting for justice for their deaths, but… While Luke had long since come to terms with the fact that the only true justice for their deaths would be to end the war, he had fleeting moments of doubt about it. Luke was only human, after all. The moments snuck up on him every now and again like ghosts on All Hallow's eve, and the back of Luke's neck often prickled with the knowledge the doubts were there. 

Had Luke betrayed his principles for his feelings? His logic said no, but... the ghostly doubts still lingered.

Luke didn't even believe in ghosts. Anyone who died was supposed to join the living Force and loose their individuality, anyway. 

So why could he feel the attentions of the Force towards him so intimately? Was there something else? A private maelstrom of guilt and hints of shame churned his stomach. 

He chalked it up to internalised shame for being in a relationship as a Jedi- trying to ignore the political aspect to it. Luke had always heard from his father about how he had wrestled with guilt over his relationship with Luke's mother. This seemed to be more of just the same. 

And Luke had to admit this was the happiest he'd been in years. 

But there were moments. Moments where Luke’s hand would drift to his neck absent-mindedly to rub and spin the circular pendant of the necklace his sister had given him to calm his nerves, and finding the mythosaur pendant instead. Hand stilling, remembering his secret. He’d leave the necklace where it was; hidden beneath layers of robes.

The secret weighed on him, but the pendant was still a reminder of Din. Still a reminder of someone he loved. He smiled every time he saw it in the mirror, feeling at one with the universe in a nebulous and melty way despite his complicated relationship to the symbol on the necklace. Every reminder of Din brought him back to the skin to skin kisses from a month ago; heart racing in exhilaration like he was pod racing in the dessert with nothing but the sky and sand for miles to see. He could swear he could still taste Din on his lips like it was yesterday. 

Despite their best efforts, Luke and Din hadn’t been able to see each other for a month since. The war had hit a new low, and General Bo-Katan Kryze had gotten bolder and more lethal with her attacks as of recent. While the war had been at a general stalemate for the past two years, General Kryze seemed to be amping the pressure up- as if sensing the upcoming end to her term as interim leader and trying to claim that victory before Din even had the chance to come into power. 

Din hadn’t been able to find a spare moment to sneak away from his buir’s political strategizing sessions (which were in response to Bo-Katan’s latest defamatory tactics), and Luke had been even more needed on the front-lines now that the Jedi were being stretched thin. He fought back to back with Leia, in tandem on the battlefield even if she was (still) pissed off with him at the moment. 

It was harder than it ever had been to fight the Mandalorians, now that they weren’t just a faceless sea of helmets. From time to time, Luke kind of wished for the anonymity of his enemy back, because it was taking a toll on him worrying whether or not he’d accidentally hurt a Mandalorian friend. His grandfather was starting to notice his new mid-battle hesitation. 

Now more than ever, all Luke could see staring back at him in the reflections of helmet upon helmet was Din and the friends he’d made; Erin. Espí. Paz. His heart always lurched at any flash of red or silver armour. The rainbow sea of armoured Mandalorians made him queasy. He saw his Mandalorian friends no matter where he looked.

Luckily, Luke hadn’t seen any of them yet, and even if he did- he still had his Krayt Dragon mask to hide his identity. It was a cold comfort. 

A month from Luke’s kiss with Din found Luke in the local village market, this time on a weathered Jedi registered speeder. It was his turn on the Padawan roster to pick up supplies, and Luke did so happily for the chance to spend a day away from the war. 

Luke had Din on comm, and they chatted as Luke bargained for rations and rice in the busy marketplace. 

“I’m telling you, Din, the blaster is superior to the blaster rifle!” Luke protested as he lugged some bags of rice onto his speeder. He'd just closed a deal with the farmer selling the rice, who then watched Luke drag the six large and misshapen sacks of rice to his speeder from his stall with an air of irritation. Luke had managed to use his wit and charm to bargain the rice down to a steal, and the farmer was decidedly unhappy about it. 

“Well maybe you’d know if you used it more often.” Din grumbled through the comm. 

“I really don’t think so. The blaster is so much lighter! Imagine having to drag a blaster rifle with you when running for your life.” Luke huffed. Standing over a pile of rice bags, he looked at them with no enthusiasm at the prospect of hefting them onto the speeder.

“Hey! I’ve done that before, and it’s fine!” Din pointed out, complaining. Luke smiled softly despite himself as he struggled with a particularly large rice sack.

“Yes, well, not everyone can have as much muscle as you do, prince.” Luke mumbled to himself, blushing, with a sigh. He momentarily gave up on the rice sack that was refusing to get onto the back of his speeder; despite his best efforts. 

There was a silence from the other side of the comm that Luke had learnt to mean that Din was blushing profusely. (Luke had begun to have a habit of flirting with Din over the phone now that he could. Din always complained about it, but would always text Luke later asking about when Din could see him again. It endeared Luke to no end.) 

Din coughed. “I don’t know what you have to complain about in that department, mesh’la.” 

Luke grinned, deciding not to get offended over the fond way Din had called him an idiot. He looked to the horizon in the direction of the Mandalorian compound, where the sun was still rising in the sky. “I don’t lug armour around all the time, so I’m pretty sure you win.”

So close, but so far.

Glaring down at the sack of rice, Luke gave up and used the Force to get the errant rice sack onto the back of his speeder- a habit he’d picked up from when he unloaded supplies in the Jedi warehouse. Luke felt happy and domestic- in his own little bubble. On the phone with Din, Luke felt as if he wasn’t in the middle of a hot and sweaty marketplace, but in an in-between space where just the two of them existed. There was an intimate quality to their banter that had removed him from his surroundings.

“Hey! Stop!” A shout in Mando’a came from somewhere behind him. This sort of thing being shouted was common in the busy marketplace, as crime was higher amongst this neighbourhood. Luke ignored it, and went back to struggling with his last rice sack, hoping to get it onto the back of his speeder quickly so that he could hop back into his speeder. He just had one last errand to run, and then he could go home.

“You! Jetii!” 

Luke stopped, shocked, pulling the bucket hat Din had bought him down to cover his face more thoroughly. Around him, villagers whispered and stared, and Luke could feel the panic rushing through him like a roaring river, picking up traction as he turned to look at the person who had shouted amongst the crowd. 

The person was pointing at him, wearing the grey garb of the city appointed police.

Luke could run. He definitely could run, but he had no idea whether this policeman had friends nearby who would capture him anyway. If Luke ran, all that would do was confirm their suspicions. He’d look guilty.

“Who is (a) Jetii?” Luke asked, as if confused, in decent Mando’a. He forced himself to stay calm; tapping into the Force. “You’re telling me there was a Jetii here all along and you still haven’t caught them yet?”
The rumours of the villagers faltered, as if now unsure of his guilt. He seemed, for all intents and purposes; a local.

“Luke?” Din asked from over Luke's comm for only him to hear, Din’s crystal clear voice betrayed his nervousness- an unsteady intensity colouring his diction. 

I am one with the Force and the Force is with me, I'm one with the Force and the Force is with me, one with the Force and the Force is with me, I'm-

The policeman was not cowed. “You’re under arrest for suspicion of being a Jetii.”

“But-” Luke tried to protest, heart rattling in his throat, backing away. The cacophony of the surrounding villagers gossip rose to a claustrophobic high. It closed in from all sides, boxing him in. He was now terrifyingly alone in this crowd; singled out as an outsider with his heart racing in alarm in his chest, in his throat, in his ears. The all too loud sound of his heart thumping melted into the cacophony around him, like a tattle taler friend- betraying him and choosing to gossip along with the villagers. His stomach tried to eat itself from the inside. 

This was his worst nightmare. 

“What’s going on?” Din demanded anxiously. Luke tried to get a grip, focusing on Din's voice as he continued to back away. 

“I’m being arrested.” Luke muttered to the holocomm in his front pocket, feeling sick.

“I know that. Where are you?” Din asked with a tight voice, and Luke could hear rustling over the comm as he backed into his speeder; the policeman was coming towards him through a sea of parting marketplace-goers.

“Behot market.” Luke told him, watching the policeman approach him with eyes as wide as saucers. Luke was shaking, and on instinct he reached out to put his shaky hand between himself and the officer, wanting to use the Force to push him away. Wanting to turn the tables and bring the situation back into his control. His only defence at the moment was the Force, and he could feel it itching through him in a tsunami rush to rise to the threat. Luke’s lightsaber was in the glove compartment of his speeder, too far to use, but he could still fight.

As powerful as he felt with the full force of the Force rushing through him, he held back, teetering on the edge of hyperventilation.  

If he fought or resisted arrest with the Force, he would remove all doubt that he wasn’t a Jedi. Despite his panic, he forced himself to focus on the larger dejarik board.

I am one with the Force and the Force is with me, I'm one with the Force and the Force is with me, one with the Force and the Force is with me, I'm-

“I’m on the way.”

“Din, it’s fine I can-” Luke protested to his comm as he was pushed against his speeder, hands being cuffed with Force dampening cuffs. The empty that the handcuffs left in place of the Force was insidious and fucking maddening. It was like someone had sucked the warmth from his bones and left a void instead. Luke grappled for anything warm, clinging to the warmth Din's voice brought. He'd never felt so limited and chained in his life; powerless among a sea of people who wanted him dead. 

Was this what his father had felt? Back when he was a slave? The weirdly calm side of Luke's alarmed brain mused. The thought wrought more damage to his already chaotic mental state, his breathing going shallow. 

“It’s not up for discussion.” Din gritted out over his comm. 

That was the last thing Luke heard from Din, because the police officer seized his comm, ending the call. Luke chased the holocomm in the officer's hands, trying to take it back- tears in his eyes that he shoved down. 

Luke hoped they could make it out of this alright.

Chapter Text

Luke had heard the shouts of alarm in the distance before he had been able to see anything. He had been watching from behind the ray shield of the police station’s cell, his vision of the opposite wall tinted red from the humming red ray. He’d calmed down significantly for the most part, getting used to the alien feeling of his senses being chained to his flesh. It felt like getting slammed back into his body, his soul too large to fit- cramped, tight and claustrophobic. While insidious a feeling, Luke took comfort in the knowledge he that wasn’t completely powerless. 

He wasn't alone either- Din should be coming. He said he'd be here. While Luke didn't want to rely on that, he had to admit that the image of his hot Mandalorian warrior prince boyfriend tearing his way through the dingy police station like the butter it would be to him was incredibly comforting. 

The officers wouldn't know what hit them. Luke thought with a curling self-satisfied smirk, despite himself. He focused on that. On Din's strength. 

“Sir?! Sir, stop!” A shout in Mando’a came from what sounded like a more senior officer, clearly surprised by the sudden siege of the dingy and out of the way police station by a clearly competent Mandalorian warrior. “Why don’t we talk this out, sir? There’s been a mistake!”

“The only mistake was yours.” A gravelly, velvety and familiar voice replied with venom in his tone. Luke already knew it was Din. There was no one else it could be other than him, and Luke couldn’t help but grin and eagerly try to peek around the ray-shield to try and catch a glimpse of Din kicking ass, warmth filling up all of his empty spaces. (He couldn’t help it. Din was attractive when he was fighting, okay? It would be nice for Luke to be able to witness Din fighting without actually having to fight Din himself, for once.)

When that wasn’t possible, Luke decided to take care of the other prisoners.

This was a prisonbreak, after all.

Luke stretched dramatically, feeling his back crack as he did, sliding up from his leaning spot on the wall. He could feel a sense of juvenile playfulness fill him up as he did so, his Skywalker traits taking the lead in the face of adversity.

“Going somewhere?” One of the prisoners remarked snarkily. He’d been getting on Luke’s nerves for the better part of the afternoon.

“Sorry boys,” Luke rolled his shoulders with a satisfied smirk, strolling slyly into the centre of the cell and deliberately taking his time. The warm delight and smugness that came with one upping his fellow arrestees distracting him enough to feel comfortable with the Force-dampening handcuffs on. The emptiness morphed into a simple nuisance, and stopped bothering him as much. Din was going to help him get them off later, anyway. “This was fun, but I think my boyfriend’s calling me.”

“Huh?” Another of the prisoners exclaimed, just as Luke knocked him out with a succinct punch to his face. The other two were harder to deal with without the element of surprise and with handcuffed hands, but after a couple rounds of hand to hand combat, Luke had them both knocked out cold on the floor of the cell, standing over them victoriously.

“Luke?!” Din called, and Luke felt the underlying and rapidly diminishing hum of anxiety that had been churning finally fully relent. Luke's pulse quickened at the thought of seeing Din again for the first time in a month as he padded up to the ray shield, looking for Din. 

“Din!!” Luke called back, feeling palpable relief. He hadn’t fully admitted to himself how scary this situation was, but now that Din was here to help- he felt all of it abate.

With heavy footsteps preceding Din’s arrival, Luke was finally able to see him properly as he stopped in front of the ray shielded cell, his figure tinted red from the ray shield. Luke knew it was probably emotionally complicated for Din to break Luke out of Mandalorian police custody, and Luke couldn’t blame him if that’s how he felt. It probably felt like betraying Mandalore; but Luke couldn’t gauge any of it- Din had his helmet on, and Luke still couldn’t see Force-auras with the Force dampening handcuffs on.

Looking at Din without the aid of an Force-aura felt strangely fresh. Thrilling and a little scary, but it was definitely a fresh and intriguing experience. Luke had to bank on his knowledge of Din’s emotions to navigate here, pouring his trust in Din into the task. 

Din was stood there, seeming a bit shocked still at the sight of Luke in handcuffs, standing in a cell like a criminal. Luke couldn’t help but feel guilty that Din had had to help him break out- Luke would definitely never have asked him to betray his people like this for Luke...

But it seemed that Luke hadn’t even needed to ask, Din had done so readily, and Luke couldn’t help but feel warm at it. He wasn’t sure how Din felt about this in terms of political moves, but Luke already knew that Din would forgo political caution to help him. He'd already thrown all that to the wind when he'd asked Luke to be clan with him.

Din’s love for him, Luke felt, was a universal truth as encompassing, grounding, and dependable as the Force- and twice as thrilling. Luke felt it echo in their shared bond like a deep tug in his stomach.

The scary part was that Luke would do the same for Din. If Luke were in Din’s position, he’d do the same in a heartbeat. There was something about Din that gave Luke the strength to brave the possible consequences of betraying the Jedi in such a way. 

Perhaps that was Din’s thought process with this. Luke had to trust they were on the same page here. 

Din, however, was uncharacteristically getting into his head about this now that he was faced with an imprisoned Luke. He hadn't moved since he had approached the cell, seeming tugged under by a tsunami of thoughts and emotion. The only reason Luke hadn't joined him in that was that the Skywalker instinct demanded very different emergency protocols than overthinking. (Mainly charm) 

Faced with an immovable Din and emergency circumstances, Luke scrambled to think of something to pull him out of it. In Luke's panic, he recalled how his father used to stop his mother from thinking politically in a life or death situation and leaned into it without thinking. 

“Din, I know I look surprisingly good like this, but we only have so long to delete the surveillance tapes.” Luke teased, a nervous smirk finding its way to his lips despite the situation. Luke kept his focus on Din's body language, praying that the out of place flirting cleared the fog of thoughts away.

That seemed to shake Din out of his reverie. Din scanned Luke from top to bottom to check that he was alright, his helmet shifting up and down as he went, taking his time. It was a feat that Luke could even see it, but there was just the barest hint of a maroon aura ringing the prince. The intensity of the tinge of colour was obviously strong enough to make it past the Force-dampening handcuffs, and Luke felt his face heat up at the reaction. This was an interesting turn of events.

“I should leave you here just for that comment alone.” Din replied warmly, shaking his head fondly. Luke knew from his tone that he was probably smiling at him under the helmet. Luke leaned into the strength that their shared familiarity brought him. 

“You wouldn’t.” Luke goaded back with playful indignation, a quirk to his lips as he tuned the alarms in the background out.

“And you’d want to test that?” Din leaned closer to the ray-shield, gripping the top of the doorframe of the cell for a lack of places to steady himself. Luke mirrored him, rising to the challenge. His new position highlighted his arms and Luke was very aware of that. 

“I would.” Luke’s voice was liquid honey, saccharine and hot- it dripped in the air between them. Their gaze was charged through the red ray shield, and while Luke was reluctant to sexualize (force-dampening) handcuffs, he had to admit there was a definite appeal to normal handcuffs. (He could break out of those with little effort).

“Later, though.” Luke promised with a coy wink, and the vaguely sultry sweep that his eyelashes did of Din’s form made Din gulp involuntarily. The want that Din had been suppressing for the past month rose up with a vengeance now that Luke was right there, actively flirting with him and looking like that. The way that Luke was intentionally showing off his muscles to elicit a reaction out of him was not very helpful for his higher cognitive functions, and it took everything to shove all of that back down and to focus on position they were in. Din tried to tune the alarms that blared in the distance back in, but all Din could see was Luke.

Despite the fact that he was helping his boyfriend, Din felt distinctly like he was letting a temptress seduce him as he turned the ray shield off, trying to shake his sudden bout of lust off as he did so. He then reached for Luke’s hands to deactivate the handcuffs, trying to be gentle as he slipped them off. Luke’s wrists were a little chafed from the hour and a half it had taken for Din to sneak off and get there, and Din involuntarily winced at the sight of them.

The alarms continued to sound, getting on Din’s nerves.

Luke rubbed his wrists gingerly, stretching his arms and settling back into the Force- it filled all of his empty spaces, rushing back through him like warmth after time spent out in the cold. Like a river that had been dammed up being finally let loose once again. Stretching his fingers, Luke could felt more like himself again.

With a glance towards the cell Luke came from, Luke reactivated the ray shield.

“Do you think they’ll remember you?” Din asked, in reference to the knocked out cell-mates on the floor.

“Probably not. They seemed a little below average intelligence.” Luke shrugged. “I said my name was Jabba, anyway.”

“What about the officer?” Din asked, and Luke met his gaze thoughtfully.

“He might be a problem. He’s the only one with an actual witness testimony.” Luke sighed, speed walking down the hallway with Din in tow.

“Fuck.” Din cursed, pulling his blaster out again; turning stun mode off. “Well, what can we do about him?”

Luke looked down at his feet as they walked, looking regretful but decisive. “Leave him to me.”

“What?” Din asked, confused. Luke picked up speed, tuning into the alarms that were still sounding, and Din sped up to match his pace. Din had thought that the Jedi didn’t kill the innocent? There was only two options here, and neither ended well. Kidnapping or murder. Did the Jedi have a third option?

“There’s a Jedi trick that should keep his mouth shut, but…” Luke shouted, clearly hesitant. There was something about whatever this trick was that had him holding back. Luke's mouth crimped shut into a tight line as he held his explanation back. 

“But?” Din prompted as they slowed to a stop in front of the empty reception of the station, the alarms were still blaring aggressively. Din had taken care of all the staff when he had laid siege to the branch earlier, but sticking around the station after having committed such a crime was definitely not ideal.

Given the three uniformed bodies lying in the reception area, it was clear that this police station was vastly understaffed. This explained why the padawans had never been caught on their trips to the village before. 

Luke ignored Din for the moment and stopped in front of the body of the senior police officer. He bit his lip thoughtfully as he kneeled in front of the body, checking for a pulse. 

Although Luke knew he didn't need to be worried about distrust on Din's front, he felt hesitant to explain to Din that the Jedi could compel people to do things they may not otherwise do- what if Din decided that everything that had happened between them was just Luke compelling him to feel that way? 

Luke, of course, was hesitant to use the mind touch for other reasons, too, but.. 

He glanced at Din surreptitiously, feeling irrational worry churn in stomach momentarily. Luke glanced back to the police officer beneath him. 

“He’s not dead.” Din commented helpfully. Din hadn’t killed any of them, both because he knew Luke wouldn't want him to, and because the political situation would've been harder to deal with if he killed Mandalorian police officers.

Luke nodded, acknowledging Din's comment as he felt a thready pulse beneath his fingertips.

“Okay, I know this sounds counter intuitive… but I need him awake.” Luke looked up at Din expectantly, knowing he probably had something for that. Din used to be a bounty hunter, after all. “I… I can make him forget that he saw me.” Luke admitted quietly.

Din seemed to stutter in retrieving something from his belt. “...Jedi can do that?”

Luke sighed wearily, feeling the weight of his ability on his shoulders once more. “Yeah.”

He looked up at Din; feeling the need to placate him, nerves thrumming through him in equal amounts as the trust that tugged at his heart. Despite his worry, he knew for sure that he trusted Din not to run away- they'd weathered worse than this before. “It takes me a lot of effort though. I could’ve done it when I was being arrested, but I’m not powerful enough to compel a few hundred villagers to forget they saw that I tried to use Jedi tricks on a police officer.”

“Oh.” Din replied, seeming to accept it, dropping the subject for now to focus on the task at hand, golden trust flashing in his aura as he passed Luke a small syringe of an unknown clear substance. “This'll wake him.”

Luke nodded, feeling every passing second that they had to lose tick by as he pushed the syringe into the officer’s neck, depressing the plunger.

“We still need to delete the surveillance footage. If Bo-Katan-" 

“On it.” Din hopped onto the computer terminals on the reception desk and started to comb through the surveillance of the past hour or two while Luke waited for the officer to wake up, meditating silently and trying to fall back into the depths of the Force enough to perform the mind touch. Meditating with the alarms blaring was difficult, but not impossible.

When Luke felt a hint of movement from below him, his eyes snapped open once more, hoping his haphazard reconnection with the Force was enough. The officer was awake.

“Hey! Let go of me, Jetii-scum!” The officer demanded. Luke held him down to the floor with the Force effortlessly, the officer's struggling futile. Luke couldn't help feeling a quickly suppressed twinge of satisfaction as he did so.

Luke sighed, trying to ignore the threats and struggling with a hint of discomfort. He'd always been hesitant about this part of the Jedi role. There was always something that felt wrong about it. 

With little ceremony, Luke stretched his open palm out, reaching out with the Force- feeling for the places that the Force and this man’s mind interconnected. Luke could feel the Force rush through him as he combed through the man’s spill of thoughts.

Without meaning to, just as the Force connection between Luke’s will and the officer’s consciousness had begun to form, it fell through. Was the officer smarter than he thought Luke had assumed he was? 

Luke huffed with a little frustration, getting up and pacing, thinking through the components of the process. What he needed was a good buzzword- ‘forget’ was good, but there was always a balance to be struck between vagueness and specificity with the command of 'forget' that a Jedi would have to instigate when trying the mind-touch.

“What’s the problem?” Din asked, as he seemed to be paging through the surveillance. He’d turned the alarm off, and Luke assumed he’d already dealt with any possible calls for backup. As someone who was usually the tech guy on missions like this, Luke felt a small burst of appreciation for Din's ready help in deleting the footage. Din really was a man after Luke's heart. 

“I need the right command.” Luke groaned, complaining, running a hand through his hair as he paced. “It’s a little hard to explain.”

“Command?” Din puzzled, confused.

“Yeah.” Luke grumbled. “ ‘The Jedi’ is too much, ‘a Jedi’ would mean he still remembers you helping me out, ‘us’ is a bit too vague because he may not understand what I mean by 'us', but it could still work…”

“Maybe a Jedi and a Mandalorian warrior?” Din asked, unsure how this all worked.

“That could work.” Luke muttered, continuing to pace.

“It’s never going to be perfect, is it?” Luke huffed, coming to a stop in front of Din and the desk. They shared a soft look as the officer on the floor continued to spew vitriol. 

"Probably not." Din assured Luke, gaze flicking back to the terminal he was still paging through. He turned back to type in some more commands, his aura pastel yellow with half-suppressed amusement and affection. 

With that, Luke took in a deep breath through his nose, trying to steady himself for the task at hand. Holding onto the little burst of warmth he'd garnered from their exchange, Luke held his hand out again and delved back into the Force, feeling a rush like a roaring river tug in his gut and pull him under, a sea of sensation and black and colour and kaleidoscopic hue shifting and swirling with a current. Luke followed it back to the point where it flowed into the officer's head, reaching out with the Force and pushing at it with a tendril of green light- trying to get it to relent and let him in. 

It took a few minutes of pushing, but Luke found himself through the channel into the officer's head soon enough. 

"You will forget the Jedi and Mandalorian warrior from today." Luke commanded, leaving no room for argument; imbuing each syllable with the Force until the syllables dripped with it. Power surged through him as his tendril of green light in the Force applied pressure to the main Force accupoint for decision making in the officer's brain, pushing Luke's suggestion onto the police officer. 

There was a terrifying moment where the officer seemed to fight his suggestion, but then Luke felt it sink through. "I... I will forget the Jedi and Mandalorian warrior from today." The officer repeated robotically. 

Luke let up a little. Now that the officer had accepted his command, Luke didn't need to exert as much force. 

"You have no idea what happened here." Luke closed off with, planting the knowledge into his brain to replace the missing information and close the mind-touch off. 

"I have no idea what happened here."  The officer echoed, and Luke knew with that that it was alright to withdraw. He did. 

Luke pulled away, feeling all of his power settle back into himself in a dizzying rush, leaving him panting and putting his hands on his knees. He sometimes forgot how overwhelming the burden of the Force could be. 

The officer was still in a trance, but Luke knew he wouldn't be for long. Luke mustered the strength to land a punch, knocking the police officer unconscious once more. He didn't need to leave the officer any room to witness anything more. 

Luke then glanced at Din, and saw the shock and awe that rested in his aura with a sigh. 

Chapter Text

It was quiet as the pair cleaned up their trail and left down the front steps of the desolate police station, Luke leaning a little on Din as they tentatively approached Din's speeder.

Looking at Luke, Din could tell that the mind trick had sapped a good bit of his energy, and thus decided not to comment as Luke had gradually found himself leaning against Din's right arm, their hands finding each other unthinkingly. Luke had shifted his weight onto Din and entwined their hands slowly and carefully, as if trying not to move too suddenly- fearing Din would move away and deny him if Din was aware of his course of action.

As if Din could deny him such a simple helpful gesture. Luke's Jedi trick had been incredibly helpful- Din was now sure that no one would discover today’s incident.

"Mesh'la." Din muttered gently, trying to grab Luke’s wandering attention, despite the fact that speaking in low tones was wholly unnecessary in the middle of an expansive desert.

"Yeah?" Luke perked up, craning his neck to look Din in the eye. Luke was slumped down to lean against Din, and so Din got the rare opportunity to have Luke looking up at him for a change. It was a testament to Luke's tiredness that he hadn't thought through what Mesh'la might mean in this context.

"Where'd your speeder go?" Din asked, looking around. Apart from Din's silver speeder around the front, there was just white sand and desert for as far as the eye could see.

"I think it was impounded." Luke divulged, his face scrunching up into an embarrassed cringe.

"Alright." Din nodded, walking the both of them over to his silver speeder, extracting Luke into the seat of it so they could figure out where to go from here together. "If you sit here, I can go get it."

Luke looked down at his feet for a moment, almost ashamed. "You don't have to."

Din’s forehead creased in a flash of discomfort, a stone in his stomach. Was Luke not used to people helping him? Didn't he understand that Din was doing this because he wanted to?

"I want to." Din softened, stepping into Luke's personal space, not stopping until he could look Luke in the eye. "Alright?"

"But... I don't..." Luke hesitated, glancing away from Din for a moment. Din's heart lurched; he wanted to find the Jedi council and teach them a lesson- accepting help did not make anyone, least of all Jedi, weak. Despite the fact that Din had only recently unlearned this particular falsity and felt vaguely hypocritical, to see Luke struggle with the same thing made Din want to pull him close and never let go.

"I don't want you to feel like you're betraying your people to help me." Luke admitted guiltily after a long moment of gathering his strength.

Betraying his people? Din couldn't see how helping Luke was equivalent to betraying his people. Helping Luke would never be a betrayal of his people- especially with what they were trying to work towards together.

Din’s brow furrowed deeper as he reached out to cup Luke's cheek, unable to resist the impulse. Gloved hand against soft skin. "I don't really understand how this could be considered betraying my people, Luke."

"Really?" Luke asked, genuinely surprised.

Din nodded. "Helping you could never be a betrayal of my people."

He didn't mention that Mandalorian patriotism was entirely based on their understanding of justice, and so Din saving Luke was still considered patriotic. But that was a discussion for later.

Luke's cheeks flushed, and Din couldn't help but smile at the sight of Luke’s skin flushing pink against the worn fabric of his gloved hand.

"Thank you." Luke grinned. Din felt infinitely better now that Luke was smiling again- there was a moment there where Luke had seemed overshadowed by something beyond Din's reach or understanding.

"Anytime." Din said, meaning all three syllables of the word.

They shared an intimate moment together, and Din found himself wishing with all of his heart that he could alter time to make their moment of shared intimacy last longer. He had missed Luke, and the near-piercing ache beneath his skin only grew stronger the closer he got to Luke. His fingers itched with the need to have Luke beneath them, skin to skin.

Din's growling stomach broke their silence, and Luke couldn't help but chuckle. Gently pulling Din’s hand from his cheek, Luke checked the time on Din’s watch. It was about lunch time, and to Luke’s amusement, he realised Din had skipped out on lunch to nip over to help him.

"Have you had lunch yet?" Luke asked, masking his slightly raised brow as general curiosity.

"No." Din admitted, shaking his head.

"Me neither." Luke agreed, chuckling lightly. It sounded like Luke was suggesting something, but Din waited for Luke to verbalize his suggestion.Din wanted Luke to be comfortable with and in control of however long he was sneaking out for.

"So… do you want to get lunch, then?" Luke, his sly smile revealing how pleased he was with himself for the suggestion.

Din grinned. "I know the perfect place in Sundari. Would… that be okay?"

"I'll just tell them I got arrested." Luke waved the question away casually, unbothered. "It was bound to happen at some point- I just got unlucky."

"Well, you'll have plenty of time to try and sneak into the archives with me, then." Din nudged Luke playfully, still grinning.

The idea of going out for a proper lunch with Luke was exhilarating, and Din tried to tamp down on the buzzing rush that flowed through him like an electric current.

Luke laughed, reciprocating Din's playful sentiment. "I'll need to regain some energy first!"

Din doubled back with laughter as well; Luke's laughter was infectious. Everything about Luke was infectious.

"Alright, I'll grab your speeder and we’ll tow it." Din beamed warmly, backing away. "Wait here!"

"It's not like I'm going anywhere!" Luke called back teasingly, a shit-eating grin on his face as he  watched Din’s retreating form.

"Stay there!" Din called back, rolling his eyes fondly.

Later, when the pair, a gleam of speeding silver amongst the expansive stretches of white sand, were well on their way to Sundari on Din's speeder, Din brought up the subject of the mind trick again.

"So..." Din began, with the air of someone trying to pick up from a month of purely virtual communication. "How does the mind trick work?"

Luke shifted against Din, his arms still wrapped around him from behind. Din felt Luke push his face into the curve of his back and heard a deep sigh.

"It's a bit hard to explain." Luke started, Din stopped himself from raising his eyebrows at Luke, knowing full well that Luke would elaborate. Luke definitely had a teaching bone somewhere in his body and took visible pleasure in explaining Jedi things to Din.

With a long inhale, Luke sat up, resting his head in the crook of Din's neck so Din could hear him better against the wind. "For the record, we can't sustain long term persuasion."

"You can't?" Din asked with intrigue. It had definitely crossed his mind that Luke might have used the magic trick on him, but Din didn't quite believe that he was being persuaded in such a way. He trusted Luke.

"No. Not that I'd want to be able to, anyway." Luke sighed, seeming burdened. "What it really is is using the Force to wiggle your way past someone's mental wards long enough to plant a suggestion. It mostly depends upon the person's mental strength whether or not it takes hold, so anyone particularly gullible falls victim to it pretty easily."

"Oh." Din murmured, immediately seeing how stupid the idea of Luke using the magic trick on him was. If performing the trick on one person took this much energy out of Luke, then it was likely Din would've noticed if Luke had been using the magic trick on him- and that was on someone who was semi-intelligent...

Besides, Din trusted that Luke wasn't manipulating him- Luke hadn't even known Din was heir to the throne until the bantha in the room had been too large to go unnoticed. Luke had shown him time and time again that the love Din felt was reciprocated, even if he found it hard to say that one specific word.

"I'm not very good at it," Luke admitted. “The mind touch, I mean.”, and Din felt for him. Considering how useful the trick had been to use, it seemed to be a skill every Jedi was expected to be good at.

"Why?" Din asked, tilting his head to the left slightly to rest it against Luke's in a comforting gesture. "It seems like a very useful skill."

"Well..." Luke hesitated, and Din wished they weren't having this conversation on his speeder so that he could see Luke's expression.

"You remember what I told you about my grandmother?" Luke asked, and Din had to think about it for a minute, because he wasn't sure Obi Wan had a partner.

"Anakin's mother?" Din tried. Her name eluded him, but he remembered something about the Tatooine slave story Luke had told him. It was too shocking to forget that easily.

"Yeah." Luke confirmed, his voice cracking a little. "I... I find it hard to do the mind touch on people because I feel like it denies their freedom to choose whether to do or do not do something. A kind of tiny slavery, if you will."

Oh. Din wanted to smack himself for calling the trick useful- it may be useful, but Luke was definitely right about it crossing a moral boundary. While Din was happy to play fast and loose with 'moral boundaries' given his bounty hunter past, a Jedi definitely wouldn't be.

"I see." Din concurred, hoping Luke would forgive him for his non-reaction.

"You probably don't see it that way-"

"No, you're right." Din stopped Luke mid-apology. "I just didn't consider that aspect of it."

Din could feel Luke's smile against his neck, where Luke's cheeks bunched up. His chest lit up and he found himself mirroring Luke's smile for the nth time that afternoon.

"Thanks." Luke murmured. Din could still hear it through the helmet- Luke’s lips were near his ear, and he wondered whether Luke could feel the shiver that had trembled it's way down his spine.

"You don't have to thank me." Din murmured back. The gentle wind carried Din’s unspoken promise of respect to Luke's ears and beyond as the speeder zipped through their sandy surroundings.

Getting to Sundari was fine, but getting into Sundari had been a bloody nightmare. The security at the dome entrances were suspicious of everything and anything that moved, and Din's distinctive arrival hadn't helped their case. Din had said that most of the notable government officials were probably paid off by Bo-Katan into giving him a hard time, but that made it all the more frustrating. Who the fuck did she think she was?  

Originally, the entrance security hadn't wanted to let Luke through the dome walls at all. It had taken a lot of arguing and, finally, flashing the clan necklace that hung around Luke's neck to get them to accept him through the city dome walls as someone authorised to enter. Din had grumbled about the ordeal all the way to the parking lot (to Luke's chagrin.)

Din's aura had stayed a stubborn and frustrated red-orange the whole walk from the parking lot to wherever it was that he was taking Luke for late lunch.

Promising good food, Din led Luke to a food street on the ground level of Sundari’s glittering silver and blue glass-adorned city centre.

Fitting Sundari’s color-scheme,which towered before them in various shades of grey, white, silver, and blue, the food street was beige with bronze and blue accents and was so unlike the rest of Mandalore with its earthy tones of red clay and white sand. Luke had never had the opportunity to explore this side to Mandalore, and so although he had seen the inside of the city before, couldn’t help but be drawn in by the starkness of the city. 

In contrast to the Mandalorian desert, Sundari possessed both a coldness and an innovation-driven feel that always seemed fresh and sparkling.

Din and Luke wandered around for a while, walking past shophouse after shophouse of various cuisines. Some of the storefronts spilled out into the street, and some stayed snugly within their shophouses. The smells from each restaraunt and cafe wafted out into the street as they passed, each smell as good as the last.

The pair had walked past at least twenty perfectly good restaurant cafes, but Din hadn't seemed particularly interested in any of them. Luke had glanced forlornly at the shops they had left behind them as they passed, but remembered that Din had said that he had a particular store in mind. Din had good taste in food, so Luke was happy to wait. The walk was pleasant, anyway.

It wasn't too crowded at this hour of midday; most people seemed to be working instead of going out to eat, so it was a surprise when Din suddenly jerked, grabbing Luke at the sight of an official-looking person in blue-grey garb walking towards them.

"Who was that?" Luke whispered urgently, whipping his head back and forth between Din and the street they had just veered off of. Luke could sense the situation’s emergency from the way Din tugged him down the narrow alley, sticking close to the right wall.

"Government official." Din whispered back, scanning the entrance to the alley.

"Din…,” Luke drew out his name, “Why are we hiding from a government official?"

Luke slowed a little, seeing no reason to go all the way down the length of the alleyway if they were simply hiding from someone.

Din stopped, breathing hard. "The last time I came to Sundari to run some errands, it caused a bit of a political issue. One of the officials Bo-Katan bribed decided to tell her I was out and about Sundari."

"Oh." Luke could see how the government official they were hiding from might be a problem. If word got back to Bo-Katan that Luke and Din were in Sundari together, Sundari officials may connect it to their second reason for visiting Sundari today.

"Are all Sundari officials on Bo-Katan's payroll?"

Din shrugged.  "I'm not sure who is and who isn't; It's always hard to tell. It's best to just be careful regardless."

Luke nodded minutely, sighing at the frustration of the situation. He would have readily challenged Bo-Katan ages ago, if not for his Jedi training.

"Fuckin’ Bo-Katan." Luke mumbled under his breath, watching his breath condense on Din’s helmet, misting up as he cursed. "Where does she even get the money to pay all of these people anyway?" 

"She's a part of the 'royal family' here on Mandalore. She's loaded." Din grumbled, a pained tone to his voice.

Despite the fact they were already in each other's personal space, there was something about the way that blood red seeped into Din's orange aura that drew Luke closer to him. Bo-Katan's influence and affluence clearly bothered Din.

"Her being a part of the ‘royal family’ doesn't mean that you can't still beat her, Din. It's not about how much money you have." Luke assured Din. "She can pay someone all the money in the world, but if they believe in something of their own free will... there's nothing she can do to stop them from following you."

"But why would they want to-"

"Follow you? Din, I've known you for a few months and I already would follow you to the farthest reaches of the galaxy. Why wouldn't they want to follow you?"

"That's different."

"Different how? Politics are ultimately about feelings, in the end." Luke wished he knew how to use the Force to project emotions- perhaps if Din could see how Luke could see how Din inspired such fervent loyalty in others by just being respectful and understanding... A pillar of goodwill.

Luke could see how Din's followers trusted him, could see the way their eyes brightened with hope as he passed. He was a silver star amongst the reds of sunset to them.

"Bo-Katan could never inspire the same loyalty in anyone the way that you do," Luke swore to Din, "She's barely trustworthy; even you can see that."

"But can they see that? Can her followers see that she will lead us to our downfall?" Din worried, and Luke could feel his uncertainty.

In politics, it was always a game of who had more followers. It was hard to seperate a sense of self-worth from that- having a following meant knowing how many people saw value in you.

"They will, with time." Luke searched Din’s eyes. "We'll prove it to them."

"We?" Din asked, a surprised joy   to his tone. His once-blood red aura was now ringed in gold as he looked up at Luke, and Luke physically couldn't help but take a step towards him in the already tight space.

"You already know that I'm with you on this, my prince." A mischievous smile played on Luke's lips as he looked down at Din, the space between them small and intimate; they were chest to chest and Luke was certain that Din could feel his heart begging to jump out of his chest at how much this moment meant to him.

Luke wanted to kiss Din badly. Too badly. Luke's eyes flicked down to the edge of Din's helmet, eyeing the place at Din's chin where his armour receded and his neck began.

It would be so easy to just...

But they were in a public place- hidden alley not-withstanding, Luke would rather Din initiate something- that way he would know that he had Din's consent for sure... Would Din be okay with a kiss in a semi-public place? Or were such things reserved just for private places? Luke could still remember every chiaroscuro gleam on the bronze planes of Din's face, and... fuck-

Luke couldn't help biting his lip, remembering the last time he'd kissed Din; the mere memory reddening his cheeks.

Din looked up at Luke, thoughtfully searching his face for something, his aura a deep pink.

Luke's thoughts continued tumbling.

What technically constituted 'helmet removal in front of others'? Did that mean directly in front of others, or did that mean-- Mmfph!!

Luke blinked, shocked back into the real world to find Din had already pulled him into a kiss without much thought to it.

Din had hiked his helmet up enough that his mouth was exposed, but hadn't taken it off enough for anyone else to see.

There was a sparkling moment where Din could feel everything in his stomach melt with a liquid heat as he pulled Luke close. He wasn't good at this; he’d never gone this far with anyone he’d felt romantically about, but he’d try. Seeing Luke look down at him with such open earnestness and love had been too much for him to bear.

Din had felt the bone crushing pull of their combined gravity and... he'd be a lesser man if he could resist such a magnetism. He’d already spent a month on tenterhooks hoping Luke would kiss him again- waiting for a moment like this.

Arms snaking up and around Din's neck, Luke fell into the kiss, gasping into it with bliss- pulling and pulling with his lips...

And pushing. Luke gave into the desire to push Din against the grey alley wall and hold him there. Luke tried his best to manoeuvre it so that Din's helmet was propped up by the wall- trying to make it easier on Din as he gentled Din's lips with his own. It was wet, and with sparkling slip and slide of lips against lips, Luke could feel raw rays of sunlight weaving into his muscles where Din's body met his.

The muscles of his hips where Din's hands had found a home were knitted with enough solar flare that his chest felt like a crucible... In this crucible, Luke felt the warmth of his heart as it just dripped, and dripped and dripped.

Din's bloodstream reduced to bubbling magma with each kiss, and he was sure his knees had almost buckled when Luke's tongue had made a pass. It has just been a teasing brush against Din's bottom lip, but he was suddenly very glad for the wall's support. He could feel his spare atoms vaporising in their combined charged atmosphere.     

Din felt his helmet clang against the wall behind him as Luke pulled away panting. Their faces still barely inches from each other, Luke let his forehead dip into Din's shoulder.

Din had trouble catching his breath; it had always been hard to breathe around the young Skywalker, and this occasion proved no exception.

Too much time had passed since the last time they had been together like this, and Luke felt it in the way his skin skipped and whistled with elation. He felt it in the way his chest tightened and the electricity that passed through him like a circuit had been completed. It was like electromagnetism, and Luke couldn't pull away.

Din tugged off a glove with his teeth, sliding his now-ungloved hand into Luke's hair. Luke instinctively reached out to trace Din's jaw- was it somehow sharper in the daylight?

With a smile, Din kissed the fleshy part of Luke's palm, and Luke just wanted to lean back in again- to lose himself in another kiss with Din. To burst into atoms and traverse the Force with Din along for the ride.      

He settled for resting his forehead against Din's.

Catching his breath, Luke swallowed down the need that itched in his fingertips. This wasn't the time or place for losing themselves in each other, no matter how badly Luke wanted it to be.

"Is… the government official gone?" Luke whispered, his eyes lingering on the exposed skin of Din's neck, his helmet still hiked up and propped against the wall.

Luke had a very enticing view of Din’s kiss swollen mouth.

Din gulped, and Luke felt like he was simply torturing himself by watching Din so intently. "Probably." Din huffed out with a breathy laugh, a lopsided smile on his flushed face.

Luke smiled, pressing a chaste finishing kiss to Din's smiling lips and pulling away before it could go anywhere else.

Luke really had to stop looking at Din’s lips, or he feared his Jedi self-restraint might actually crumble.

“So”, Luke cleared his throat and asked warmly, "What cafe did you have in mind?"

Din grinned up at him, shifting on his feet to stand upright. "You'll just have to wait and see. Somewhere special."

"Special?" Luke goaded, watching disappointedly as Din retrieved his helmet from where it was propped up on the wall to fully cover his face once more.

"Magical." Din confirmed, and Luke knew, underneath his kiss-blocking helmet, that Din was still grinning at him.

Chapter Text

Din hadn’t had any trouble getting them a table when they arrived at a secluded café.

The storefront was welcoming, enveloping, and blessedly empty. Its garden atmosphere felt vaguely like a stroll through the highlands of Naboo, and Luke couldn’t help but wonder if that likeness was intentional on Din’s part.

Regardless, a gentle breeze ruffled Luke’s hair as the pair were ushered to a table on the edge of the storefront- not quite on the patio but not quite outside the café. A perfect spot for avoiding prying eyes without sacrificing the café’s atmosphere.

“Have you been to this place before?” Luke asked, looking around appreciatively. The cafe was delightfully devoid of people or crowds, The cafe’s secluded privacy seemed almost intentional- even the staff weren’t prone to wandering over, staying mostly behind service counters on their holocomms instead of politely harassing patrons and customers for their orders.

“Once or twice.” Din replied warmly, scrolling through the menu for a minute. “I found it ages ago, and it’s great partly because the staff don’t bother you.”

The café was of the kind that spilled out of a building and onto the food street in a homey way that resembled a garden patio. The breeze kept picking up gently, and the afternoon sunlight was nice, but Luke could bet that their lunch would be near-perfect if he could just appreciate the way the golden afternoon sun would have turned Din’s hair into a halo of glittery bronze.  Perhaps he’d get the chance to see Din in that light later.

Luke beamed. Privacy was an important factor in choosing a restaurant for Din, of course .

Leaning almost conspirationaly towards Din, he whispered in jest, “The food’s good though, right?”

Din sat back a little with faux indignation. “Of course.”

Luke rolled his eyes, endeared. “I forgot who I was talking to.” In the time that Luke had known him, he’d found out that Din had a definite weakness for good food.

In that spirit, Din had developed a penchant for spamming Luke with pictures of the things that he’d cooked and sending them to Luke, just to be annoying. The Jedi mess hall food paled in stark comparison to the photos Luke received on a daily basis of delightfully vibrant and tastefully crafted dishes at the oddest hours of the night. Some of the deep reds in most of the dishes made Luke worried for Din’s stomach lining, though.

The cafe’s menu wasn’t expansive by any means, but it was diverse, and definitely matched Din’s tastes. Although the eatery was a café, and their options weren’t endless, they had a decent variety for a late lunch.

It was pretty easy to order with Din excitedly explaining everything on the menu. And so, with minimal deliberation, they placed their lunch orders quite painlessly.

“Did you choose this place purely because of their curry noodles?” Luke asked, a teasing smile playing on his lips. He’d ordered some for lunch, but he had to wonder whether it was part of the reason they had come here. Din knew that curry noodles were Luke’s favourite of the Mandalorian food he’d tried thus far.

Din looked away, and Luke could tell from his aura that he was smirking under his helmet. “Whatever gave you that impression?”

Luke couldn’t help the eyebrow he raised at his boyfriend.

Nor the smile that lingered at their domesticity.

“I can’t believe you asked the waitress to tone the curry down.” Luke complained, crossing his arms petulantly.

“It had to be done.” Din argued dryly, taking a brief sip of water, aura glowing.

“How do you know that I can’t take it?” Luke asked wryly. “What if I can?”

Din choked on his water, and he held the lip of his helmet up over his lips until the coughing fit subsided.

“Well,” Din rasped, having finally regained some of his composure, “You could always ask for some on the side.”

Luke looked away, exasperated. “It’s probably too late now.”

In an attempt to will away the young Skywalker’s exasperation, Din put his helmet back over his chin and beckoned one of the servers that had been ignoring them over from behind one of the service counters. He asked for a small dish of hot sauce to be served alongside what Luke had ordered.

When their food finally came, it was no surprise to Luke that Din had ordered the Braised Shaak Roast, although this recipe came with a side of rice rather than thick noodles. He’d seen it on the menu and had a feeling Din would take to it. 

“I knew you’d pick that.” Luke smiled, pointing at the roasted meat, and Din huffed dramatically at the jibe.

“Because it’s the same dish your mother made?” Din asked, thinking back to when Luke brought him some of Padmé’s cooking.

“Yeah.” Luke smiled, grinning as he said, “I know you liked it.”

That’s not the only reason I liked it, Din thought to himself as he gazed up at Luke, completely missing any sort of innuendo.

Luke was ethereal with the simple afternoon sun highlighting the smile that arrested the majority of his face. Dirty blond hair swaying in the breeze amidst the green of the café’s décor, Luke gave Din the impression of what a Mandalorian nature god might look like if they had one.

“I did.” Din finally smiled, even if Luke couldn’t see it. Din didn’t know how to tell Luke that the flavours of the Nabooian dish his mother had prepared garnered a deep emotional connection in him. Din didn’t know how to tell Luke he’d cooked the dish a lot in the past month in his midnight snack cooking. The sticky savoury-sweet roast tasted like his mother’s love and Luke’s kindness.

“It’s probably a little different. My mother has a very particular style of cooking that’s been passed down in my family for generations.” Luke warned, simultaneously digging into his bowl of soupy curry noodles with zeal.

It had been a couple months since he had last had the opportunity to devour a bowl of the Mandalorian dish. It was hard to find curry noodles outside of Mandalorian eateries, and it wasn’t suited to the… humble Jedi palate.

Hiking his helmet up, Din took a bite of the dish, his spoonful equal parts Shaak meat and rice. He nodded.

“Yeah. Definitely different.” Din sighed. He’d been trying to figure out what had created that secret Skywalker salty-sweet zing for ages, but this shaak roast’s flavour profile, if anything, was farther from any of Din’s fruitless renditions.

“Luke”, Din groaned, “What does your mother do differently?”

Luke grinned slyly. “Well, I could tell you…”

“But?” Din prompted, knowing there was something. He took another bite, and the motion stalled Luke for a moment.

“...But then I’d have to kill you.” Luke chuckled, bending over his bowl of Mandalorian excellence with his spoon to take a long slurp of his curry noodle broth, chasing it down with water.

“That’s not fair.” Din whined- just to wind Luke up. Though he dearly did want to learn how to cook a properBraised Shaak Roast.

“Sorry, my prince. Naberrié rules,” Luke raised an amused eyebrow at him. “But… I’m sure you could just… happen to learn the intricacies of the Skywalker method if I made shaak roast for you sometime. You could, you know, probably pick it up.”

Din huffed a laugh into his rice. “Alright then, Mesh’la.”

Luke crossed his arms. “Hey!”

Din shrugged dramatically, as if it hadn’t been his choice to call Luke that.

Luke rolled his eyes, digging back into his curry noodles. His nose was starting to run, and Din couldn’t stop the laughter that bubbled up at it. Nor could he help the way the laughter burst up with a vengeance at Luke’s affronted expression after he noticed Din’s shoulders shaking with repressed laughter.

“What?”, he glared.

“Nothing, just-” Din snickered as quietly as he could, “What happened to ‘I can take it Din, you patronising Mandalorian’?”

Luke gasped, shocked at the implication. “You-” He cut himself off, indignant.

“What?” Din asked, a devilish innocence to his tone. “You said it yourself.”

Luke grit his teeth, his lips turned up at the corners as he did so. “Alright. Fine.”

Without warning, Luke chucked the water in his glass at Din, completely deadpan as he did so.

“What the fu-” Din swore, but then his eyes turned to his own half full glass of water.

Luke knew where this was going so he jumped out of his chair, but Din was fast, and Luke wasn’t using the Force to speed away and so had managed to chuck the water in his glass back at Luke just as he was getting up from the table. Din couldn’t help laughing as he did so- partly because Luke was already drenched and howling with laughter. The staff seemed a little curious by the sudden noise, but refrained from interfering, aligning their service ideals with the cafe’s politely detached atmosphere.

“Well now we have no water.”, Din pointed out, “And you’ve still got a bowl of curry noodles to eat. I could ask for more?”

“No need.” Luke smirked, sitting back down at their table. Din titled his head at Luke doubtfully. 

And then Luke proceeded to eat the rest of the bowl of hot noodles without any water whatsoever.

“Where do you think the archive is?” Luke asked, looking over at Din, pursing his lips worriedly. “Have you been there before?”

“Once. I… it wasn’t pretty.” Din admitted, taking a sip of his spiced caf. 

Luke nursed his cup of local tea. The Sundari blend of cassius tea had all the hints of elegance that weren’t as present in the cassius tea back at the Mandalorian compound, which was rougher around the edges. There were cassius flowers floating in the tall glass of the pale yellow liquid, and Luke couldn’t help but commend the café on their dedication to their nature aesthetic. The café had plants crawling from wall to wall in a pleasant way, and the atmosphere melded well with the smooth and open floor plan.

“Do you think they moved the archive?” Luke asked, looking up at Din earnestly.

“No. It’s a huge building- moving it would be too much work. It’s part of the palace.” Din sighed.

“The palace?” Luke startled, eyes widening. “We’re going to the Mandalorian palace?”

“Keep your voice down.” Din shushed, rapidly scanning their surroundings with paranoia, despite the street and café being all but deserted.

But then he seemed to soften; “Yes, we are.”

“Fuck. I am not dressed for that, Din.”, Luke groaned, burying his head into his hands,“You should’ve told me.”

Din rolled his eyes at Luke, but Luke could tell the gesture was fond despite the exasperation behind it. “We’re going to be sneaking in; your outfit is fine.”

Luke smiled, a slyness creeping into it. “Is it, now?”

The run in with the Force dampening handcuffs had somewhat muddled his ability to read Din’s Force aura for the time being, but this particular colour lit up Din’s silver beskar with vivid shades of pink.

Luke had come to understand the meaning of this particular colour (romantic love) and couldn’t help but blush at Din’s helmet-hidden fluster.

“Well. Yeah. Yes.” Din coughed, clearing his throat as if to buy himself more time to answer while trying to get his voice to not come out raspy.

He looked Luke up and down carefully, taking in the black undershirt (which he was now wearing as a tank top) and dark brown pants. “You look good in… what you’re wearing.”

Luke turned away to hide his pleased smile, but could see Din leaning around slightly to catch it out of the corner of his eye.

Everything felt warm and pleasant and right, and Luke didn’t want to return to their original topic of conversation; which was incredibly melancholy in comparison to this elation.

“Anyway.” Din sighed, sitting up again, “It’s going to be a little difficult. The problem with Bo-Katan is that she’s technically in charge until I get my shot at Manda’lor, so she has eyes and ears everywhere.”

“Well…” Luke started with an idea, trailing off before seeming to decide against something.

“What?” Din prodded gently.

Luke blushed. “We could always pretend that this isn’t a political thing at all?”

There was a moment where Din didn’t quite get it, and Luke was worried he was going to have to spell it out for him, but then Din seemed to get what Luke was trying to say.

“Oh.” Din’s aura of pink deepened more intensely. Luke could feel his own cheeks heat up, and felt a little silly for blushing about going on a date with someone he was already technically dating.

Din seemed to feel similarly, and sat up, powering through the rush of embarrassment. “I’d like that.”

A beaming smile broke open on Luke’s face, and Luke couldn’t help but feel exhilarated at the chance to explore Sundari with Din.

“So what do you want to do? We could walk around the area until finally making our way to the archives, maybe?” Luke suggested, taking the last sips of his tea.

“Yeah. Sounds good.”

As with most drinks with fruit and the like in them, the cassius blossoms in Luke’s tea had settled to the bottom of his now-dry cup. The flowers were small and white, and smelled really good. Luke couldn’t help but dig them out from the depths of his cup with his fingers.

Din watched him do it with intrigue, and soon Luke secured three small, white, cassius blossoms cupped in his hand.

There was a moment where Luke looked up at Din, unsure what to say, but suddenly gripped with the urge to tuck a flower into his armour. Luke blinked down at the cassius flowers in his hand, and then back at Din consideringly, tilting his head ever-so-slightly as Din often did.

Silently and without any warning, Luke gave in to his undeniable urge and stretched across the table to tuck one of the small flowers into Din’s breastplate.

As Luke sat back in his seat, within a matter of seconds Din’s aura shifted from grey confusion to a deep rose gold.

Shaking his head with silent laughter, Din reached for the flowers in Luke’s hand as well.

“Hey!” Luke protested, pulling his precious flowers a safe distance away from Din’s prying, grabby hands.

“If you get to put flowers on me why can’t I do the same?” Din asked, and Luke felt his chest melt. An unwilling smile turned the corners of his lips upwards as he slowly moved closer and silently offered Din the two flowers between his palms.

Din pinched the short stem of a flower, twirling it between his gloved fingers as he seemed to consider Luke and where to put the flower.

Then, Din stood up to stretch across the table between them, and gently grasped Luke’s Padawan braid and securely tucked the stem of his flower into the braid.

Luke grinned helplessly at Din as his hand brushed Luke’s neck on his way to sitting back down.

Luke suppressed a shiver as he rubbed the stem of the last small white flower between his thumb and forefinger, watching it spin.

“I don’t know if I should put this in my pocket or try to stick it in your helmet somehow.”, Luke admitted.

Din’s pink aura deepened, and Luke felt light and warm and enchanted; like he was whizzing on a speeder at dusk on Tatooine.

“You could keep it for Grogu?”, Din suggested.

“It would get squashed in my pocket.”, Luke sighed.

Din held out his open palm, indicating that he’d keep it. Luke dropped the blossom into Din’s palm without hesitation.

“I’ll put it in my belt.”

Din wasn’t entirely sure how his and Luke’s hand found each other as the pair were holding hands and strolling down the streets of Sundari, but he was grateful for it all the same. Din was having the time of his life, and he longed to bottle these feelings and shelve them for years to come.

The flower that Din had tucked in Luke’s Padawan braid was still there, swinging to the steady rhythm of their walking pace. Din didn’t understand the full significance of the Padawan braid, but what he did know was that the braid marked Luke as an apprentice.

Din hadn’t been able to resist adorning Luke’s braid; his delicate, petalled contribution felt like an attempt to brighten up the frustrations one tends to have when being a learner.

And it didn’t hurt that the flower in Luke’s braid seemed to make his eyes glitter in the Sundari afternoon sun.

After they had left the coffee shop, Luke had taken Din’s hand and had since not let go. They’d circled around the various shops on the street level, as they had planned, trying their very best to upkeep their natural air of couple-y innocence and charm as they circled closer and closer to the Sundari palace where the archives were kept.

Luke had been enamoured (and distracted) by various things of various shapes and sizes as the pair passed different stalls. Luke’s distraction-prone nature was the perfect cover in terms of cloaking their intention to raid the palace’s archive later, and Din couldn’t help but be enthralled by how captivated Luke was at the city. He fawned over the crystalline and technological architecture, and hummed in wonder over just how different the city design was compared to Coruscant.

Something about Sundari seemed to draw Luke in, and Din couldn’t help how proud he felt of his city, despite not having grown up on Mandalore.

Luke had drifted into the shophouse veranda of a ceramic potter by the time they had strolled close enough to the palace that they could slip into the alleyway next to the shophouse unnoticed.

There was an alley nearby with a backdoor into the archives which Din had used to escape the last time he had snuck into the Sundari palace’s archive.. (It had gone very sour, and he still couldn’t shake the feeling that they were being watched.)

Just as the ageing potter who owned the shophouse had begun convincing an entranced Luke that he neededa vast assortment of hand-crafted pots and plates in his life, a blonde man with blue eyes and an intelligent expression passed them by, staring at Din as he went. Din could swear that had been General Karking Kenobi, and turned to watch him go…

But then, the man pivoted on his heels and started to approach them, and Din’s panic kicked up, ice filling his veins as he rushed over to Luke to warn him.

“I think that-“

The brownish blond-haired man stopped Din short, walking up to the potter with a marginally approachable but closed off expression.

The man hadn’t seen Luke yet.

“Sigmund!” the stoic blond greeted, a lilt to his accent that Din could swear was General Kenobi’s, though it seemed muddled with the airiness of the local Sundari nobility.

Silently, Din tried to tug Luke in the opposite direction before the General Kenobi candidate in question recognized him, but Luke hadn’t noticed the man and was intensely focused on a small bird shaped pot that had been thrust into his hands by the shophouse’s insistent potter.

The brownish blond-haired man in question exchanged pleasantries with the potter for an oddly extended period of time, and only after ten minutes into their oddly prolonged exchange of pleasantries was Din able to tear Luke away from the creaky wooden shophouse.

“Din-”, Luke briefly protested, allowing Din to lead him away all the same, “What? That bird-shaped pot would have been perfect for a second cactus.”

“I think I saw your grandfather”, Din whispered urgently, glancing back at the stall with trepidation.

“Obi Wan?!” Luke muttered, alarmed and intrigued at once, “What’s he doing here?”

“Maybe he missed the city? I don’t know.” Din groused, annoyed as they crossed the street to get away from the stall. They were almost at the archives, and this had just happened to occur? 

“But why would my grandfather visit a pottery shop?, Luke asked with an eyebrow raised, “He’s got plenty of that stuff.” Now a reasonable distance away from the two apparent pottery enthusiasts, looking back at the pottery stall as he squinted, Luke could clearly see the two men talking amicably.

Luke tilted his head in thought, “Well… he certainly looks like Obi Wan.”

“But?” Din prompted, drawing the word out as he stared at the supposed Obi Wan lookalike.

“The man at the stall is clearly younger than Obi Wan.” He stood a little straighter and squinted harder, “And his hair is blonder than Obi Wan’s.”

Luke glanced over at Din, starting back into a walk up the side of the street they were now on, “Whoever he is, he shouldn’t be Obi Wan.”

“Oh.” Din hadn’t noticed the differences that Luke had. General Kenobi was definitely older- last Din had seen on the battlefield, General Kenobi had some grey hair starting to show.

Not that he’d had time to notice a slew of other things while the old man had been swinging his blue lightsaber at him, set on turning Din into a karking sha’tual stick.

That old man seriously had some moves. Din was impressed by Luke’s grandfather, though he didn’t voice his sentiment as he sped to catch up to him.

“It’s alright, Din”, Luke snorted, “Obi Wan looks younger than he is.”

“How old is he?” Din asked in wonder.

Luke smirked. “You don’t want to know.”

“Why wouldn’t I?”, Din retorted, perplexed and ever-so-slightly hurt.

“Because you wouldn’t want to know that someone his age beat you.”, Luke teased gently, a glint in his eyes.

Din gasped incredulously, now offended. “Hold on, he didn’t beat m-”

“It certainly looked like he was beating you back there.”, Luke prodded with a mischievous smile, bumping shoulders with Din.

“He did not.” Din replied sourly.

“Then?” Luke prompted, raising an eyebrow at Din with an aura of playful slyness. Din sighed with exasperation.

“I was taking my time. I knew you’d help.” Din said finally.

Luke’s face broke open into a grin.

“Sure.” Luke crooned, delighted at having found a teasing foothold.

“I would’ve beat him if you had given me tim-”

“Excuse me?”, A prim and proper voice from behind them interrupted Din’s defence, shattering their moment of tease and jest.

The pair whirled around, their default warrior instincts kicking in briefly.

“Yes?”, Din replied, on guard but polite.

It was the Kenobi look alike from the pottery shop. How he had managed to catch up with them, Din didn’t know.

“You’re Djarin, right?”, The well-dressed dirty blond haired man asked, “The cabur?”

The questioning man was dressed in varying shades of navy and grey, and Din was struck with the impression that he should’ve known that this man wasn’t Kenobi from the way he was dressed.

Unlike Kenobi, the man was dressed like Mandalorian nobility. A style he didn’t have access to as a Jedi.

“I am Djarin, yes.”, Din confirmed warily, sharing a worried glance with Luke. “Who’s asking?”

“Oh, I’m sorry, I should’ve introduced myself.”, The man took in a long, unsteady breath, looking around as if scanning for people who could overhear. “I’m Korkie Kryze.”

The word ‘Kryze’ almost could’ve been a red hot iron, given the way Din and Luke jerked away from the man like they had been burned upon hearing the word.

“And what could a Kryze want with me?” Din asked, a jarring and sudden coldness to his tone.

“You’d be surprised.” Korkie replied, a friendly and charming smile playing on his lips. It was clear that he had expected this reaction, but had decided to continue regardless.

Luke glanced at Din, an urgent expression on his face, and the unspoken exchange they shared was one of warning and heavy caution.

Korkie noticed their exchange, and doubled back verbally. “I’m not here on my aunt’s business, I swear. I’m nothing like her.”

“And why should we believe you?” Luke piped up, stepping in front of Din minutely, making it crystal clear that neither of them trusted Korkie.

“Not all the Kryze clan are the same.” Korkie promised, scanning the empty street. “Aunty Bo… has been estranged from the clan for a long time now.”

“Estranged?” Din repeated, visibly surprised despite himself. “I thought she had use of the clan’s ancestral funds?”

“She does, but…”, Korkie sighed, “It’s better if I explain in private. It’s complicated, and…”

“Kryze has spies everywhere.” Din finished. “So, you know about them?”

“Anyone who opposes her does, I’m afraid.” Korkie muttered.

Luke and Din shared a look, weighing the potential outcomes of following this stranger and turning him away.

On one hand, Din was far too curious about this new development. Someone from the Kryze clan being happy to dish out the family gossip and drama on their own clan? It sounded too good to be true, and yet…

Din glanced at Korkie, who definitely seemed to be who he said he was; every inch of him screamed ‘noble Mandalorian warrior born into a well off family,’ which definitely was the Kryze style, but Din hadn’t heard of him before now.

Korkie Kryze? There had to be something the man wasn’t telling them.

But…, Din’s gaze was drawn back to Luke’s, Did Luke think this lead was worth anything?

Luke’s brow creased in deep thought, his eyes flicked between Korkie’s face and Din for a moment, his eyes narrowed with a mix of suspicion and something else… recognition?

Then, he nodded, fully facing Korkie once more.

“Alright.”, Luke agreed. “Where to?”

Korkie’s apartment was, unsurprisingly, quite luxurious. This Kryze lived in the penthouse of a building close to the palace. His “humble abode” was clean and modern with the type of minimalism afforded only by someone with more than enough money to survive.

The crystalline themes of the city spilled into Korkie’s choice of décor, but what really surprised Luke was the Kryze’s bookshelf full of datapads and antique books. Actual paper-bound books.

It was an interesting look, between the turquoise and violet glow of the datapads and the brown of the decomposing paper books in a variety of different colours. Luke felt easily drawn to the bookshelf.

“Sorry about the mess.”, Korkie apologised as he cleaned some stray mugs off his kitchen island that had been left there.

Besides the stray mugs, Luke failed to see any mess in sight. But he wasn’t about to assuage this peculiar stranger’s fears about his and Din’s judgements on his home if it could offer them some sort of an advantage.

“Are these actual books?” Luke asked, curiosity winning out as he carefully traced the spine of a dog-eared novel.

Korkie laughed from the sink. “Yeah, they are.”, Korkie smiled. “I can see that you’re quite the reader, then?”

Din looked over at Korkie’s bookshelf, and Luke knew he was raising an eyebrow at the Kryze’s collection.

Diehard Mandalorian warriors didn’t tend to collect sentimental objects as a hobby, given most of their possessions could be destroyed in battle. They were on the move constantly and tended to live frugally.

Luke was thinking the same thing- this young man was clearly more nobility than warrior.

“I am quite the reader, yes.”, Luke replied, scanning the various titles on the shelf. This Korkie Kryze had good taste. Luke had to hand it to him.

“This collection must be worth a fortune on the antiquities market.”, Luke commented, a practised fake casualness dripping from the sentence.

“It was my Aunt’s.”, Korkie placated as he finished up at the sink in the open kitchen and joined Luke at the bookshelf in the living room.

Luke smiled politely. “She has good taste.”

“That she does.”, Korkie agreed. “Would you like some tea? Or something to drink?”

“We’re alright, thanks.” Din answered for the both of them, and Luke knew that he probably would’ve accepted out of knee jerk politeness had Din not answered. They couldn’t afford to engage in pleasantries with the young Kryze all day.

“Suit yourself.” Korkie smiled, pouring himself some water, and seating himself in an arm chair across from a tea table and an accompanying sofa, leaving the sofa for Din and Luke.

Luke had to admit that going through the politeness rituals of the upper class after years of not having to felt a little frustrating and strained, but if it got Korkie to spill the gossip on his family, Luke would’ve endured another thirty minutes of it. It was especially weird coming from someone who’d flash with blue at the edges- Luke felt weirdly on edge about it.

“Right.” Korkie started, taking a sip of water and putting the glass on the tea table in front of him while Din and Luke got comfortable on the sofa.

“So you said Bo-Katan was estranged?” Luke asked, picking up the conversation where they left off.

Korkie sighed. “Yes, she was. It’s a very long story that starts with my Aunt Satine.”

“We have nothing but time.” Din commented, and Luke knew that politeness was keeping him from rushing Korkie into telling his story.

“My Aunts Satine and Bo have been at odds for a very long time. Always have, actually.” Korkie said thoughtfully. “Partly because they both took very different positions on Mandalorian politics; a dichotomy that has existed on Mandalore since the very start of our civilisation. Pacifism and peace versus war and triumph. Our people have always been the war type, and our culture has always said that peace is found in the conquering of others, however true that may be.”

“My Aunt, Satine Kryze, has always been on the side of pacifism and peace. She envisioned a peaceful Mandalore focused on innovation and prosperity, and because of this her path to the throne had always been destined to be tumultuous.”

“With the help of Obi Wan Kenobi, right?” Luke interjected with the little titbit of information he knew about Satine’s past. His grandfather had been assigned to protect her as a Padawan along with his master, Qui-Gon Jin, during the Mandalorian civil war, and they had been through a lot together, according to his father.

Korkie blinked, surprised. “Well… yes.”

Din turned to Luke, his aura pastel blue, also surprised.

“How did you know that?” Korkie asked, now suspicious.

“I just heard about it, it’s not that much of a secret, right?” Luke shrugged faux casually.

“Right.” Korkie agreed, but it was clear that it didn’t sit well with him for some reason. He was too polite to argue the matter, however, and continued on. “My aunt Bo was the complete opposite, and campaigned for a more traditional Mandalore that honoured the old ways of warcraft and armour; one that followed the Resol’nare.”

It was a little like Korkie was giving a history lecture in the things that everyone knew had happened, but were unspoken but understood. Luke paid rapt attention, understanding the privilege it was to be in the know about that kind of stuff.

“At the time, Satine was the ‘radical one.’ As you know, cabur, traditional Mandalorian culture is based in clans and houses the honour that one can bring to one’s clan or house. This is the Mandalore that Bo-Katan has brought back upon us, so I don’t really need to explain that.” Korkie explained, addressing Din. Luke felt like he had a similar lecturing cadence in his tone to his master in the middle of a politics lesson, and he wondered if that was just because Din had pointed out his physical similarities to Obi Wan. “Mandalore used to be dominated by the wars of clan rivalries, which completely decimated the natural environment. Formal leadership was hard to come by; it was mostly just whichever clan was winning that was in power. No one knew where the Darksaber was at the time, you see.”

“How could that be? I heard that it was with clan Vizla?” Din asked, thinking back to the information Luke had dug up on the Darksaber.

“It might have been, but if it had been they would’ve laid claim to the leadership that it would’ve provided them.” Korkie reasoned, shifting in his armchair and taking a sip of water.

Din’s aura went grey, and Luke could tell he was as puzzled as Luke was about that problem. Where was the Darksaber back then if not with the Vizlas? On the black market? Sitting in some rich person’s museum?

But it shouldn’t have mattered, anyway- the lack of Darksaber during this time was of no concern to Din politically, though it did make him wonder what Pre-Vizla had done to procure it during his years on Concordia with the Death Watch.

“My aunt Satine had been a part of a group that had called themselves the ‘New Mandalorians,’ a counter group of Mandalorians looking to demilitarise Mandalore. As the group grew bigger, the traditionalists tried to keep their power with violence, and Bo-Katan and their father were on their side when that happened. My grandfather, Adonai Kryze, had been a Duke and Chieftan of our clan, and naturally had been in favour of tradition.”

“I don’t see where Bo-Katan got estranged, then.” Din interjected. “If Satine Kryze was the radical, then Bo-Katan would’ve never had a fall from grace?”

Korkie chuckled, seeming unable to help himself. “That’s the thing, you wouldn’t expect that to change, but my Aunt Satine eventually became a leader and figurehead to the New Mandalorians, particularly after Adonai died. Because she was such a prominent leader to the pacifist group, she eventually had to flee Mandalore due to the many attempts on her life.”

“This still doesn’t tell us about Bo-Katan,” Luke commented.

“No, but understanding her sister tells you a lot about her relationship to power.” Korkie pointed out. “When the New Mandalorians emerged from the civil war victorious, my Aunt Bo-Katan was robbed of her opportunity to rule Mandalore in the traditional way.”

“So… they instated Satine as their leader?” Din asked, surprised. This was not the traditional Mandalorian way- Satine hadn’t even fought in the war.

“Yes.” Korkie confirmed, smiling.

“So Bo-Katan was estranged because…?” Luke asked, trying to glean the reasoning to which Korkie would claim that Bo-Katan had been practically cast out from the clan.

“The clan eventually came around to Satine’s point of view, but it took a while. Aunt Bo was left clinging to the old ways, and given her short temper, she eventually fell out with the family. She only has the money she does because her father left her most of the family money after he died.” Korkie clarified. “But because my Aunt Satine got to rule Mandalore, Bo has always been dead set on ruling Mandalore in what her opinion is the ‘right’ way.”

“Hm.” Din shifted on the sofa, and Luke felt his thigh against his own- they were sitting side by side, and Luke was glad they were. It felt like they were together in this; united against the long history of selfish Mandalorian power struggles. Luke hoped that it was as comforting to Din as it was to him.

“And how can we be sure you’re telling us the whole truth?” Din asked, sitting forward to look Korkie in the eye. Korkie took a sip of water, unbothered by the pressure.

“You just need to check a history textbook from before the purge.” Korkie shrugged, placing a datapad on the tea table between them. “I’ve filled in some bits with unrecorded parts, but that’s what happened.”

Din picked the datapad up, scanning the page on it without comment.

Luke, on the other hand, had noticed something.

Narrowing his eyes at the young Kryze, Luke focused on the edges of his form, waiting patiently- there had been moments he could swear he’d seen a flash of navy in the young Kryze’s aura.

“And how would you say is your relationship to your Aunt Satine?” Luke asked, trying to poke Korkie’s emotions a bit to see if the colour would appear again.

Korkie blinked, surprised at the question and caught off-guard. One minute they had been talking about Bo-Katan, the next Satine. “Well…”

The colour appeared again, and stayed for longer. Luke was barrelled over with a feeling of wisdom and leadership in the Force- something felt off. This wasn’t normal.

“My Aunt has always been kind. She can be a bit stubborn, but she’s incredibly intelligent and a very good leader.” Korkie smiled fondly, and Luke got a fishy feeling about Korkie’s relationship to his family. Din was still scanning the history textbook, trying to fact check the family drama Korkie had supplied them with.

“I’m sure she is.” Luke commented. If the Kryze family had had three children, Luke wouldn’t’ve thought it was strange that Korkie had two aunts- Korkie would’ve been the child of the third Kryze child. But Luke knew for a fact that the family had only had two children, he’d taken the liberty to check while looking into the events of the Mandalorian purge that had put Din in the path of the throne.

If Korkie wasn’t the child of Bo-Katan or Satine, then who was he the child of?

“And what role did your parents play in the whole thing?” Luke asked, trying to bait Korkie- he wanted to see if Korkie could lie well.

“My mother was an illegitimate child of a long lost brother of theirs.” Korkie said smoothly, and Luke knew that he’d caught Korkie in a lie. Din tilted towards Luke, side eyeing him with interest, noticing the verbal espionage that Luke was undertaking. Luke had clearly picked up Padmé’s diplomatic talent for talking around a topic until someone accidentally revealed themselves.

“No, no, I’m not talking about that.” Luke smiled, and it was sly, biting smile that made coldness climb up Korkie’s spine. “I’m talking about your real mother. Satine.”

It had been an easy deduction for Luke after having distinguished Korkie’s character. Had Korkie’s mother been Bo-Katan, he wouldn’t have been telling on her- even if he had had a bad relationship with her, Mandalorian custom dictates that betraying immediate family was the lowest crime of the low in Mandalorian society. Had Korkie been Bo-Katan’s son, he would’ve been more of a warrior, but instead Korkie had filled his apartment with books and scholarly knickknacks- all of the signs of his personality pointed to a noble and distinguished upbringing. Between the two Kryze siblings, Satine was more of the learned noble.

Combine that with the fact that Luke had known for a fact that Obi Wan and Satine had most likely had a fling back in the day, say about… Korkie’s age  years ago…

All signs pointed to Korkie being her son.

Korkie paled, surprised. “How?!-”

“We’re not blind.” Din commented, putting the datapad down, folding his arms. Luke spared him a pleased smirk as they turned their combined attention back to Korkie.

“Were you going to tell us the truth, or?” Din asked, not pleased about being lied to.

Korkie sighed, aura flashing the same shade of navy as before. Now that Luke was aware of Korkie’s parentage- it was clear that the flashes of navy and random whiffs of his personality were in fact a Force Signature. Now that Luke was paying attention to it, the feeling of wisdom in the Force was very similar to the familiar one of his grandfather’s…

“I was, but…” Korkie wrung his hands, taking a sip of water. “I’m not really supposed to tell people. It makes people ask unwelcome questions.”

His Force signature disappeared once again, and Luke surmised he must be making an unsuccessful effort to suppress it. Which should also mean that he was aware that Luke could use the Force, or he wouldn’t be making such an effort.

“Like?” Din prompted, but Korkie ignored the question in favour of his water. Luke glanced over, the only warning he gave Din for what he said next.

"I'm a Skywalker, so I know your mother through my Master, Obi Wan Kenobi. Perhaps you've heard of him?"

Korkie blinked, sitting back in his seat with the surprise.  It was a risk to say such a thing, but Luke was confident in his knowledge of the situation.

“You…” Korkie started, but was unable to finish his sentence from the shock. Din shifted on the sofa next to Luke, uncomfortable with the turn of events. If Korkie turned Luke in, they’d be in trouble.

“Luke, what-” Din started to try and warn, but Luke shook his head.

“It’s alright.” Luke smiled, slipping a hand into Din’s to comfort him for the moment. “Obi Wan is your father, am I correct?”

Wide eyed, Korkie slowly nodded. “Yeah. I…”

Korkie took a deep breath to steady himself. “Dad had always mentioned a ‘Luke and Leia’, but…”

Luke laughed, partly from relief that he hadn’t been wrong. “Yeah. I wasn’t actually aware that you existed this whole time.”

“Really?” Korkie asked, surprised, and his Force Signature returned in full force. He’d clearly decided to stop repressing it now that Luke knew who he was. “He always would tell us that he’d send you guys our regards when he’d go back to the Jedi. I guess…”

Luke smiled dryly. “I suppose he wanted to have his secret.”

“So your dad is Anakin Skywalker?” Korkie asked, eyes wide with a small amount of awe and amusement. “I can’t… the chosen one’s son is sitting in my living room.”

Luke laughed along with Korkie, and Din didn’t seem to understand what was going on, his aura shifting from colour to colour very quickly.

“First off, I know that Obi Wan thinks that Anakin’s the chosen one, but… he’s just good with the Force.” Luke explained, beaming. It wasn’t every day you find out you’ve got a secret uncle no one knew about. “Only time will tell if he’s the chosen one.”

“Oh I don’t believe Anakin’s the chosen one, but that’s partly because Dad told me all these stories where he almost kills himself with his recklessness.” Korkie joked, and Luke snorted in reply.

“So, wait a minute…” Din jumped in, trying to clarify the situation. “Korkie Kryze is your uncle? And you didn’t know about it?”

Korkie raised an eyebrow. “Uncle?”

“Oh.” Luke cringed. “Obi Wan is kind of like a grandfather to me, that’s all.”

“And… that makes me semi-related to Anakin?” Korkie asked, a little confused at the Jedi family dynamic the Skywalkers had going on.

“Obi Wan practically raised Anakin, so… yeah kind of.” Luke explained, and Korkie clearly didn’t know how to react to finding out that he had a spot in the Skywalker family madness.

“Right.” Din said, and he clearly didn’t quite get it either. Did Korkie count as an Uncle even if he hadn’t been around when Luke was growing up?

“Why didn’t dad tell you?” Korkie asked, a little confused.

“I don’t know.” Luke shrugged. “Maybe he thought that two secret marriages would be too much for the family to carry? Or maybe he just didn’t want Anakin to call him a hypocrite?”

“Maybe.” Korkie agreed, stroking his chin in thought. “Either way, it’s good to see you. Dad clearly had two families to worry about.”

“I can’t even imagine how hard it would be to manage that.”

“General Kenobi seems the type to be able to.” Din added, getting up from the sofa. It was clear that the two Jedi needed to sort their family stuff out, and Din wanted to continue reading up on Kryze family drama. Their family was clearly a mess that everyone had to deal with because they were noble.

“You’re only saying that because you think he’s a capable warrior.” Luke teased from the sofa.

“And I’m not wrong.” Din countered, scanning the bookshelf. A lot of the books on the shelf that Korkie had would get him kicked out of government office if his name hadn’t been Kryze.

“How’s Ahsoka these days?” Korkie asked, clearly curious.

“Aunt Ahsoka? You know her?” Luke blinked, surprised. How could Korkie not know Anakin well but know Ahsoka?

“She came to teach at the Academy while I studied there. We exposed a Prime Minister of ours that had gone corrupt together.” Korkie shrugged, and it was Luke’s turn to gape.

“You what.” Luke blinked. “I’m sorry, when was she going to tell me that?”

“Well, she doesn’t know I’m Obi Wan’s son, so she probably didn’t think it was that important.”

“What else did she do that she’s not telling me?” Luke pouted, annoyed. “What the fuck? She gets to have done all this cool shit back in the day and doesn’t tell us any of it?”

Korkie chuckled. “Anakin and her used to do all sorts of crazy shit.”

“I know, and I’m endlessly jealous.” Luke groaned, and could already feel Din glaring at him.

“You don’t need to put your life in danger for no reason, Luke.” Din chastised, sitting down on an armchair with a datapad in hand.

“Yeah. I don’t think doing that is a good idea.” Korkie smiled wryly. “My dad used to get heart attacks all the time because of Anakin, I don’t think he needs any more of them.”

“Not in his old age.” Luke smirked, and Korkie glared at him from the armchair across from him.

“I see that you inherited a lot of Anakin’s ability to get on your nerves, then.” Korkie commented, and Din glanced at him with an annoyed aura.

Luke smiled, oozing a fond friendliness towards his newfound uncle. “You definitely inherited Obi Wan’s tendency to lecture.”

Korkie raised an eyebrow at him, unimpressed.

After a beat without reply, Korkie coughed, shifting in his seat to change the subject. 

“So why are you here in Sundari?”

Chapter Text

Din glanced over at Luke warily, but Luke didn’t notice. “Information gathering, apparently.”

“That’s certainly an effort.” Korkie commented, raising a blond eyebrow at the pair once more. “In this day and age, my Aunt isn’t going to let you in on much if she doesn’t have to.”

“Yeah, well, your Aunt  bribed the archivist at the barracks.” Din sighed, saying the word ‘Aunt’ with disdain. “I didn’t have much of a choice.”

Korkie chuckled at him, a sly smile blooming on his face. “Surely a man of your talents could just persuade them to talk, no?”

“Oh I did, for what good it did me.” Din complained. Luke turned to him, a little surprised, and Din felt a little repentant. “I didn’t hurt him, I just scared him. He was only a librarian after all.”

“So what did you find?” Korkie asked, now invested in Din’s information problem.

“I was looking into the Sith, partly because Luke had told me about them, but I’d never come across them in our archives. It turns out that someone has either removed them from our archives entirely or hidden them for only higher ups to access.” Din explained, getting up and pacing. He’d left the datapad on the tea table, and was starting to feel less uneasy about Korkie now that he was understanding the man’s motives. He didn’t act like Bo-Katan, for one thing. The lack of resemblance was a comfort.

“I don’t see why that particular file was hidden? It’s either to avoid people demanding that we team up with the sith, or that it’s politically motivated…” Korkie added, coming to the same conclusion Din had. “But you just need a simple explanation of the Sith to understand them, and even I could tell you that…”

“I don’t know, Kryze, it smells bad to me.” Din conceded, giving Korkie an appraising look. “I wanted to check it out, but the file is behind an access firewall in the main archives.”

Korkie blinked, thinking it through. “So you wanted to sneak into the main archives?”

Din couldn’t help pulling a face, a little annoyed that their plan had been discerned so easily given just a little context. “We were doing well on it, too, until youshowed up.”

“Not that that was a bad thing.” Luke added, and Din glanced over at him doubtfully. The man had all of Obi Wan’s charm and snark and not enough of his more comforting traits, in Din’s opinion. Din only trusted him because Luke did, and his gut told him that he wasn’t working with Bo-Katan.

Korkie smiled at Luke pleasantly. “Well, actually…You might be luckier than you say you are, Cabur.”

“Will you stop calling me that?” Din lashed out, irritation bubbling up at the honorific. When Korkie said it like that, it sounded more like a mockery than a complement, somehow.  

“Oh.” Korkie hadn’t realized Din didn’t like that. “Sorry. Can I call you Djarin, then?”

Din pulled a face under his helmet, cringing for a minute. His name never fit as nicely as it did in Luke’s mouth than it did anyone else’s, and it sounded weird with Korkie’s lilting accent.

“Alright.” He sighed, giving in despite that fact.

“Why are we lucky?” Luke asked, gently bringing them back to the topic at hand. It wouldn’t do to have his newfound Uncle and his boyfriend try to kill each other.

“Because, my dear nephew, I happen to be a government official.” Korkie explained, his mouth quirked up in a teasing smile. “I work as a lawyer for the most part, but I have access to the Archives as a principle.”

“Really? That’s a big coincidence.” Luke remarked, narrowing his eyes at the blond.

“Perhaps it’s the will of the Force.” Korkie shrugged the comment off, rocking in his chair for a moment and looking as if he was going to get up. “Tea, anyone?”

“Sure.” Luke smiled, and Din rolled his eyes fondly at him from across the room.

“As if you could ever reject tea, cyare.” Din teased, pausing his pacing to let Korkie slip past and into the kitchen.

“I-” Luke protested in his defence, blushing at the term of endearment, before realizing that he couldn’t find a suitable foothold for said defence.

He huffed.  “At least it’s not firewater.”

“Uhuh.” Din replied disbelievingly, a grin playing on his lips as he stared down at a ruffled Luke on the couch.

“Or spice!” Luke preached, trying to make his tea indulgence look minimal compared to other addictive substances.

“Right.” Din tilted his head at him, raising his eyebrows at him disbelievingly. Somehow, Luke had always unnervingly been able to tell that Din was raising his eyebrows at Luke, but Din supposed that that may have been a Force thing.

“If I might add, tea is good for you.” Korkie interjected from the kitchen, and Din had turned to the young Uncle Korkie Kryze about to preach to him about the benefits of caf, when he was stopped short by the floating tea ware.

Surrounding Korkie on the kitchen island was various different pieces of an constantly shifting jigsaw puzzle of tea ware, hot water and loose leaf tea. It was chaotic in an organized way, like invisible hands were all around him passing him various different things at undisclosed intervals. Din was unsure what Luke could make of this, being a force user himself, but Din had never seen the Force been used for anything like this. None of the Jedi seemed to put their gifts to trivial use like this.

It was still a show of practiced focus that had Din starting to believe that, maybe, just maybe, the gods had led Korkie to them for a reason.

Luke had been surprised when Korkie had started casually using the Force to make them some tea, particularly because it showed a clear lack of formal training in Force discipline that the Jedi younglings in the crèche had been taught when they were young. It was not the Jedi way to call upon the Force for household chores, partly because of the sacredness of the Force.

If Korkie had currently been a part of the order, he could’ve been playing with fire doing something like that. Luke would’ve readily believed that Korkie was Anakin’s child rather than himself.

Of course, the Jedi used the Force for small chores every now and again, but… it was a matter of discipline and principle to not trivialize the Force… But yet there Korkie was, the strands of the Force visible to Luke as Korkie weaved them into helping set their tea tray.

Korkie hadn’t grown up with the crèche, but then it was clear he’d been well trained…

He was something different. Not quite Jedi warrior, there was something else there. How had Obi Wan brought him up? This wasn’t quite his traditionalist style.

Luke stood to re-join the conversation circle when the conversation had died, trying to draw their attention back to the matter at hand. “So you were saying that you’d be able to help us?”

“Well.” Korkie scrunched his face up thoughtfully, waiting for the kettle to boil. “I’m no good at sneaking into places, but I do have the higher access codes.”

“So if we get you in, you can help us?” Din clarified, stepping towards Korkie.

“Yeah.” Korkie confirmed. There was a silent moment where all could be heard was the boiling of the water in the kettle and the click that followed. Korkie patiently poured the water into the teapot, watching the steam with consideration.

“I can definitely say that you’re on the right track here, with whatever it you’re looking for.” Korkie started, and Din and Luke shared a confused glance at that.

“What do you mean?” Luke asked. The sentence was a little cryptic.

“If you’re looking for the dirt on my Aunt, you can definitely start with the Sith.” Korkie sighed and hefted the tea tray from the kitchen island with little effort, walking over to the tea table with Din and Luke in tow. “While I don’t remember much from the civil war that dethroned my mother, I do remember something to do with a Darth… someone.”

Luke blinked. A Darth someone? Darth was a sith rank, so while that told them that the Sith had been involved in some sort of Mandalorian scandal, it didn’t tell them much else. The Jedi had their ears to the ground about all sorts of Sith- semi Sith and Dark Force Users, possible Sith members…

“And that’s all you remember?” Din pressed, having glimpsed Luke’s puzzled expression. If Korkie could remember the name, perhaps they could be saved the trip into the Archives.

Korkie furrowed his brows, thinking hard. For a moment, it was silent as they all focused on Korkie trying to remember the name of this Sith involved in the scandal.

With a frown, Korkie shook his head. “Sorry. I can’t. It’s all a bit fuzzy given how much death occurred around then.”

Luke sighed, frustrated. “It’s alright, at least you tried.”

“So then,” Din opened with forced enthusiasm. “What’s the plan?”

Korkie raised a jaunty eyebrow at him, looking very much like Obi Wan for the briefest second.

“We’ll start, as they always do, with the guards.”

Luke poured himself a hefty cup of tea. He was going to need it.

“You’re telling me you can’t-”

“I’m not saying I can’t, Skywalker,-”

“Watch it, Kryze. Did you forget there's cameras?”

“We looped ‘em anyway, Din.”

“I don’t see a problem with being careful, Luke.”

“Of course.” Luke Skywalker smiled, a small sigh on his lips. “But when are we not being watched?”

Djarin huffed, but couldn’t bring himself to poke a hole in Luke Skywalker’s point.

Korkie was well aware that there was something between the two, as well as the implications of engaging in such a romance. It wasn’t like they were trying to keep it quiet, or even hide it- hell, Djarin had even called Luke beloved  in front of him for Forces sake…

But…Anakin Skywalker’s son dating the heir to the Mandalorian throne? That spelled a disastrous love story of incredible proportions. They could very well kill each other on accident.

And yet, despite the tragic possibilities in their cards… They worked so force-damn well  together. There was something about them that made them complement so easily that Korkie wondered if this had been the intention of the Force. Korkie could very much see the pair breaking new ground for both the Mandalorians and the Jedi- if their love didn't end in flames. 

Still, the idea of the Skywalker playing with fire like that... didn't quite comfort him. He could tell by the way they held each other's gaze that their type of love was the type that they would fight to their last breath to keep; for better or for worse.

Why did it have to be a Skywalker talent to end up in romantic debacles?  

"So you're telling me you forgot how to Force-Jump?" Luke asked, unimpressed, with a judging hand on his hip. 

And why did Skywalkers also have to be so fucking annoyingly good at poking fun at sensitive spots? Korkie complained to himself with a sigh, trying to resist the urge to raise an eyebrow at the young Skywalker. 

"It's not that I forgot-" Korkie tried again, but Luke was clearly not hearing it. 

"Sure." Luke smirked unbelievingly, and Djarin glanced at him with amusement from where he was scanning around the library in the archive room, planning a route they could take through it. They had looped the cameras they could in the library, but the cameras pointed at the data terminals had been closed loop. Luke hadn't been able to tamper with them, so they decided to just try to shift the camera with the Force so they could use the farthest most terminal for their reconnaissance mission. "I can't believe you expect me to believe that, Kenobi."

"Don't try it." Korkie warned, feeling a twinge of irritation flare up. He smoothed it over with the Force, but he wondered how his father had managed to raise Anakin if he had been this mouthy. "I've been practicing the Force longer than you have, kid." 

"Oh so it's kid now is it?" Luke raised an eyebrow at him, unperturbed. "Out of the two Force-Users here, only one of us remembers how to Force-Jump, so I wouldn't get too cocky." 

"You grew up in the creché, it's practically mandatory to remember." Korkie argued, his point deteriorating by the minute. 

"That's rich considering that we were both taught by the same person." Luke crossed his arms. "Obi Wan had been so anal with me about making sure I could do it so well I didn't have to think about it that I doubt he would've let you off." 

Korkie's ears burned with embarrassment. Luke Skywalker had a point- Obi Wan hadn't skimped on that lesson with him either. 

"You've got more practice, okay?" Korkie protested, and Luke made a noise of incredulity. "Well-"

"Boys, boys, you're both pretty, okay?" Djarin butt in, an amused but slightly annoyed edge to his voice. Korkie and Luke turned to him, blinking at him in surprise. 

"Wait a minute, why are you calling my uncle pretty?" Luke cried as Korkie let the matter go. Djarin was right; this wasn't the time and place for petty arguments, no matter how joking they were. 

"I was being sarcastic." Djarin backtracked.

"So you don't think I'm pretty?" Luke frowned, the corners of his lips still turned up. 

"What do you think, mesh'la?" Djarin threw back at him, and Korkie couldn't help but start wheezing when Luke protested the term of endearment. 

"Really?" Luke raised an unamused eyebrow at Djarin, and it was clear to Korkie that Luke didn't understand that Djarin had called him beautiful. 

Korkie smiled slyly, about to butt in with a teasing explanation of what the word actually meant in Mando'a, when he caught Djarin's death glare that said something along the lines of'Do Not ruin it for me.' 

With an exaggerated and dramatic wink back at Djarin, he changed the subject. "So how do you Force-Jump again?" 

Luke huffed dramatically at him, as if put upon. "I can't believe I have to teach my uncle this, but you gotta pool the Force at your feet first." 

Korkie bent over, his eyes closing halfway as he focused on the Force that hummed like a constant chattering crowd around him at all times of the day. He pulled at the hum with his senses like a summoning; he tried to draw the Force around his feet like a trampoline cushion of air. It had been a while since he'd needed to- he'd been in the office most days.

"Right." Korkie confirmed, straining as he felt the Force comply as it gathered around his ankles. 

"Okay, then stretch it as tight as you can, like a spring." Luke explained, doing it himself. Korkie could see the many invisible hands of the Force in a green blob at Luke's ankles, he could see the way it was pulled taut behind Luke almost like a slingshot.  

He mirrored it as best as he could; sometimes instructions about the Force were hard to translate from Force-User to Force-User, partly because of how widely the experience of being Force-Sensitive differed from person to person. For Korkie, the Force had always seemed to him like thousands upon thousands of hands, coming together to form a coalesced whole. For Luke it was probably different. 

"Okay." Luke smiled kindly, scanning Korkie's form. 

He turned to Djarin. "We're taking the route on top of the shelves, right?" 

Djarin nodded. They had decided to climb the bookshelves and jump from one to the next, because it was the one route they could take that had a ninety percent probability of not running into guards or stray government officials. No one had, thankfully, found them while they had stood in between a couple of bookshelves near the entrance bickering, but it was getting to high time they should kriffing focus. 

But then again, they were all highly capable fighters, so if they were caught it wouldn't be horrific. 

For Korkie, anyway. He had enough political sway to get out of this one. 

"Right." Luke affirmed, doing a cursory check on Korkie (which he resented) to check he was still ready. "On three?" 

A breath. 

Korkie nodded. 

Korkie Kryze was a liability, Din realised as he jet packed from shelf to shelf in the darkened library, following Luke and the Kryze from a couple shelves behind. The silver-grey walls glistened in the low light, the dark blues of the upholstery giving the archive room a cold and clinical atmosphere that triggered a fight or flight instinct somewhere in the pits of his stomach. The noble unfeelingness of the room was so un-Mandalorian he wanted to leave as soon as he could. Everything about the palace chased him out, from the remnant designs from a Mandalore that had had a government too far removed from their people to see the coming revolt to the expensive minimalism that didn't tell a story of a Mandalore unified in the strength of their sense of community. It was too far from the Mandalore Din knew and the one he was actively trying to bring about. 

Although incredibly useful in terms of logistical information, Din didn't quite trust Korkie yet. Any trust he had for the man was on the basis that Luke trusted him, and even then Din was suspicious of the Kryze because of how blasé he seemed about what they were attempting here. Additionally, it was jarring to see someone so very clearly Mandalorian use the Force- Din internally recoiled every time it happened. Korkie just got on his nerves in many ways; some he couldn't even name. 

But then, the endless jokes could be a Skywalker and Kenobi thing; sarcastic to the end. Luke was the same, but in a good way that told Din he was being serious about the task while still joking around. It was usually pleasant without being too distracting.

Did they not realise that Bo-Katan could have them executed for treason if they got caught? Or was Korkie not worried because he was related to her? Would she show mercy to her own kin?

Din watched forlornly, standing on a shelf behind them in the large and expansive library with numerous shelves as Luke and Korkie Kryze bickered quietly, Luke correcting his uncle's form. Din was hesitant to tell Luke to stop, particularly if he was getting to spend time with his newfound uncle, but... there was something wrong. They needed to be careful here; something felt off in the air and he wasn't sure what. The Force-sensitive pair hadn't sensed anything, and maybe Din was just paranoid, but then...

He worried too much. 

With a steadying breath, he activated his jet pack on low burn, trying to be as quiet as he could as he landed on the next parallel bookshelf. His jetpack was clunky in comparison to the grace that Luke and Korkie Kenobi-Kryze had, jumping as easily as tookas from the top of one bookshelf to another with only the sound of footsteps in their wake. He would never be able to match that. 

Uncharacteristically, Din's mind wasn't on the task at hand despite wanting desperately to return to it. Everything had been better when the trio had been focused on the mission plan, but now that the plan had been locked in, Luke and Korkie had talked themselves off into tangent after tangent on the Force and it's elements. 

It left a roiling ache somewhere in his chest; a want to be a part of their conversation but...

So close yet so far. Luke seemed like a different person when he was instructing Korkie on the Force. Did Luke even remember that Din was here? 

Would Din ever be a part of Luke's world the way that Luke was a part of Din's?

He had thought that Luke had accepted him into his world of Jedi and the Force just as Din had accepted Luke into his world of violent politics and honour and creed.

And yet...

Din watched as Korkie shoved Luke across the bookshelf two shelves ahead from him with the Force, a raised eyebrow on his face. Luke snorted and rolled his eyes with challenge. 

Was Din even relevant now that Luke had found someone who was the best of both worlds? What if Luke wasn't actually into him but had just been using him for connections? 

Din cringed, trying to shake the idea off. It was absurd, he knew. Din knew by the way they reached for each other that there was something there and he felt full up every time he remembered that he actually got to be with Luke, but...

He couldn't help but feel left out. Was it the Mandalorians who were the problem? The gods only knew what the Jedi really thought of them... did they curse the Mandalorians in the same breath as they praised Anakin Skywalker? 

All of a sudden, Din felt the most alone he'd felt in months. He hadn't felt this way for a long time. Not since he'd met Luke, not since he and Luke had started working together to get Din in a position to end the war.

But no one understood what it felt like to try and bridge the gap between two cultures, straining with the effort. No one knew what it felt like to have their teenage years robbed by unfathomable burdens of responsibility, being spoon-fed guilt that was not even his by the mouthful until he choked. Everyone said they understood, but, Din knew by now that they were just nodding their heads for the sake of nodding their heads. No one would ever understand how his role set him apart from everyone. He walked with the weight of an entire planet on his shoulders; and had been since he was just fifteen. Sometimes he desperately wished the Armourer had saved the news of his inheritance for when he was a bit older, but no one was ever truly ready for the news that he'd have to fight hundreds of people on his eighteenth birthday to earn a role that he didn't even want in the first place. 

No one on this planet understood how desperately Din hadn't wanted to become the Manda'lor. No one understood just how much of a sacrifice he was making by accepting the throne; he was readily giving up at least thirty years of his life in the name of justice, hope and a better future for everyone like him. He'd already sacrificed so much to get to where he was with Luke, and trying to imagine leading the Mandalorian populace through the same journey made him feel so isolated and alone that there were moments where he questioned whether it would all be worth his effort if no one listened to him. He'd be cast out just like Korkie's mother, Satine, doomed to watch helplessly as Mandalore ruined itself with it's bigotry and a long line of power hungry leaders. 

But he knew he had to try. He had to at least try. 

With every ounce of his strength and all his soul, he'd have to try. The way that lead to the throne was hard and frustrating; tough and marred with scars, but the path without Din's political efforts spelled disaster and agony beyond belief. 

Because his heart was telling him that if he didn't scrape his hands raw to do this, then no one would. No one would think the Jedi were worth saving. Even if they realised how much bigotry had actually inspired this war, they would still sanction it on the basis that no one cared whether the Jedi lived or died. To the Mandalorian populace, the Jedi were worse than nothing now. 

He couldn't bear the thought that Grogu would eventually have to find himself in between two opposing sides, constantly at war with each other. Din couldn't bear the thought that there'd always be this wall between Luke and him, and they could always get so close but never close enough- the wall between them stopping them just short of being together. Grasping at the space between their atoms, eternally starving for the next touch...

The thought that it would always be this way pulled Din to pieces, muscles tearing from bone and splintering him- he had been in two places at once at all times for a while now. He hadn't quite admitted it to himself, but Luke had brought the world of the Jedi to his doorstep; his mere existence keeping the Jedi alive for him. Din's heart sealed and tied to the fate of both Mandalore and the Jedi. If they ended up destroying each other, he would implode with them. He'd be a fission reactor of nuclear proportions.  

But realising that even Din would never quite be a part of Luke's life with the Jedi stung. Stung because Din had so readily accepted Luke into his life with the Mandalorians, stung because he had been counting on the Jedis acceptance of his leadership of Mandalore to secure a peace treaty with them. If Din couldn't understand what they were talking about half the time, would he still be respected? 

Stomach twisting and heart squeezing, Din looked back to Luke, feeling as if someone was trying to tear his insides out. 

He loved Luke, he knew that. 

But Din could feel the weight of his responsibility resettling onto his shoulders- the same solitary feeling that he'd been wrestling with for years hissing in his stomach. 

Did Luke truly understand what would be required of Din in order to get through this? Did Luke truly understand the responsibility that laid ahead of Din? 

Luke turned from where he was standing on top of a bookshelf a few shelves away, noticing with a gentle look that Din was brooding. He tilted his head, a concerned eyebrow raised at Din. Din's heart stuttered in his chest.

Din shook himself out of his reverie, smiling a reluctant and watery smile as he shot Luke a thumbs up. Luke nodded, but his expression of worry didn't leave his face. 

Luke may not understand- he may never truly understand that Din dragged this burden like a rock ticked to his leg at all times, but... 

Din would be tied down and tortured within an inch of his life before he let himself push Luke away. Fuck. No. 

This was the way. 

Getting through the library by hopping from bookshelf to bookshelf had been an inspired idea- they found the data terminals quickly and easily, and they still had an hour to go until the next time the guards would swing by the room, so they had made up the time they had spent bantering and the like. 

Din had just been landing on the top of the bookshelf that Luke and his uncle were on, crouched and focusing on a security camera parallel to them; willing it to shift to the right so they could access the terminal on the far left unheeded by being visible to the camera with the Force. Din, not for the first time, wondered whether Luke could see something he couldn't- being able to use the Force and all.  Silence fell upon them like an unspoken agreement now that any noise they made could get them found out through the camera. But Din wasn't worried- he liked to think he could read Luke quite effortlessly by this point.  

Once the camera had been shifted, Luke nodded at Din, and then at Korkie, and together they climbed down the far side of the bookshelf, keeping to the shaded side of the shelf where the books were sparse and the handholds were easy to grip. 

Din brought the rear up out of courtesy and logic, coming down last in case the pieces of his armour clinked against each other with the movement. When Din had landed on the ground with only a soft thud, Luke gave him an encouraging smile before nodding the group along.

Korkie led the pair towards the darkened corner, scurrying towards the data terminal with eagerness as they approached it. It seemed that Din and Luke weren't the only ones with questions about the Sith and their connection to the current political climate. 

They carefully crowded around the data terminal, and Din couldn't help but think that the group that they made would've looked a little strange if a passing guard happened upon them. A well dressed Mandalorian nobleman of high stature, a young adult dressed in village garb, and a fully suited Mandalorian warrior... 

If they got caught there wouldn't be any talking themselves out of this one. 

The anticipation of having their questions answered thrummed through them as Din took a seat at the undecorated terminal. Korkie leaned over him to access the keyboard, taking them through all the various security passwords and clearances that he could. 

"Well that's the end of that." Luke murmured softly, peering over Din's shoulder as the welcoming 'Access Granted' that had greeted them every time Korkie had put the correct clearance password in turned an aggressive red. Din looked up at Luke in surprise that he spoke, but found in Luke's expression that there wasn't anything to worry about in terms of the camera. Perhaps they were too far for the sound to pick up. 

Access Denied

"That's as far as my clearance goes." Korkie sighed, shoulders sagging with defeat.

"Let me?" Luke asked, pushing Korkie away from the keyboard. Korkie stepped away, relinquishing the keyboard to Luke graciously, their shadows falling on Din as they did so. The only light in the corner they had snuck into was the result of illumination from the data terminal's screen and keyboard. 

"Be my guest, nephew mine." Korkie shrugged.

Luke typed a few things up, and suddenly a wall of text popped up in a seperate window- Luke scrolled through it, seeming to scan for something.

A couple moments later he typed what seemed like basic but wasn't quite basic into the window, holding his breath for a moment. Din thought, inappropriately, that he looked good like that. 

Luke was illuminated in the glow from the screen of the data terminal, his hair framing his face and his braid hanging down his neck. His necklace had come loose from under his shirt, and Korkie was giving the Mythosaur pendant a dubious side eye as they waited to see if Luke could crack the firewall. The planes of Luke's face were soft and mussed up, and Din could almost believe he was just a tech-junkie from Tatooine - if not for the Padawan braid and the mythosaur pendant. 

Would life had been better? If Luke had grown up on Tatooine, and the first time they had met was on Tatooine? With no hints of the war tainting the time they spent together? Din would love to have the opportunity to see this side of Luke more often, in non-life threatening contexts. He liked the idea of retiring with Luke while he got to tinker all he liked most of the day. 

"Alright, this should be it." Luke announced under his breath, exiting the terminal after having pressed 'run,' shaking Din out of his anxiety induced reverie. Luke stepped away to give the computer and Din some space. 

They all held their breath, watching the clearance bar load with baited breath. 

Din felt trepidation and relief as he watched the blood red status bar turn a welcoming green with a cheerful chime. Access Granted. 

But would the cheerfulness of the sound that waved the trio into this particular holodossier be unfounded? 

Heart in his throat, Din's fingers trembled as they hovered over the access button, terrified of what he might find but resolute in the knowledge that he couldn't do without the information. There was something here; he had to trust his instincts that he was on the right path here. He could feel it.

With a deep breath, Din pressed the button, drowning in icy shock and fear when pictures of bloodied civilians came up. His stomach twisted and roiled with the urge to either be sick or run as he paged through the document. 

Usually, Din was immune to the effects of gore- he had to be- but some of the pictures were extraordinarily horrific, even for him. He recoiled in his chair a little.

"The Sith are a group of Anti-Jedi known for their brutality and their penchant for extremity. They believe in chaos, and violence for the sake of violence. While they share an appreciation of the art of war with Mandalore, they operate without morals and without honour. The Sith do not believe in honour and any structure of honour within their culture is coincidental." Din read out to Korkie and Luke in a low voice, trying to keep his voice steady with how his heart was pounding. "While not much is known about the Sith other than how to contain one and their style of life, there have been allyships between the Mandalorians and the Sith in the past." 

Din gulped, trying to settle his stomach. 

"Most notably, the alliance between Pre-Vizla and Darth Maul during the fall of Duchess Satine Kryze." 

Korkie blinked, going pale and turning away. Something told Din that the sentence itself had unlocked a lot of traumatic memories for the man. Ones that should have stayed locked. 

Din was trembling despite himself, whether from fear or anger that there had been information about the circumstances that had led to both Din's future ascension to the throne and the war with the Jedi that had not been public knowledge. That Din had lived his whole life without learning that there had been Sith involvement in this whole debacle. He'd been led to believe for all of his life that the Mandalorians had dug their own hole for themselves, but given this new information, there was clarity in the fact that Mandalore's fate hadn't just been their doing. 

He had been lied to all his life, and something in him clawed to know why. A small part of him that had been suffering with misery at not understanding this war crawled out from the pits of his stomach, screeching a victorious war cry that spurred him on. He read on despite the sticky blackness that consumed his abdomen as he did so, following the information to an attached file describing the events of the unholy alliance the dossier had mentioned. 

"The Mandalorian Civil War is the most recent notable example of the lawlessness of the Sith, with Darth Maul and what sources confirm was his apprentice; Savage Oppress." Din didn't know how to pronounce the names of the Sith members mentioned, but Luke nodded in encouragement as he listened, his mouth a thin pressed line that spoke of carrying a fresh burden. "While sources are mixed on how Darth Maul became involved with Mandalorian affairs, the main story speaks of an old grudge against a particular Jedi and an attempt at revenge." 

At the mention of the Jedi related to this Darth Maul, Luke turned to pat Korkie on the shoulder; unsure how else to help the man who was close to tears and caught up in the tsunami of horrific memories. Korkie seemed quite out of it, unable to really take in what Din was saying or the content of the dossier they were reading. Din guessed the Jedi mentioned must have been Korkie's father, Obi Wan Kenobi. 

"During the Mandalorian Civil War, Darth Maul and Savage Oppress joined forces with Pre-Vizla and the Death Watch- the countermovement of the New Mandalorians. The Death Watch sought to remilitarise Mandalore, and conducted many terror attacks on the capitol of Sundari in an attempt to sway the people to their way of life.

One of Vizla's lieutenants, most notably, was Bo-Katan Kryze, of Clan Kryze, who had been left behind in her sister's successful attempt to demilitarise Mandalore and leave the traditional Clan wars behind as a thing of the past. Bo-Katan Kryze and Pre-Vizla were the most notable figures leading the countermovement, paving the way for the otherwise disorganised band of traditionalist Mandalorian warriors to eventually remilitarise Mandalore." Din caught Luke's eye, and together they glanced at Korkie, seeing him a new light now that what he had told them before had been confirmed. He must have been through hell. 

"The Mandalorian Civil War is what led the pair to their eventual reinstatement of traditional Mandalore, but in partnering up with the Sith to reach their ends the Death Watch got more than what they bargained for. 

According to civilian eyewitnesses, the strategy the combined forces of Darth Maul, his apprentice and the Death Watch came up with had been to seize control of several crime lord dynasties and use the followers of the gangs they controlled to stage several terror attacks from each individual gang. This was so that the populace of Sundari decided that their Duchess Satine Kryze could no longer protect the people in the face of the terrifying ordeals the citizens had endured. 

This strategy had been sound, although full of dubious morality, and it worked to Pre-Vizla and Maul's favour. The pair soon found themselves with the Duchess Satine Kryze in custody  and control of Mandalore at their fingertips." 

On the holodossier, Din saw a photo that had been captured by a citizen at the time. It showed the palace steps full to the brim with people, seemingly cheering on a warrior type figure who stood on the palace balcony, arms up in victory. 

"From here, the accounts of the event get somewhat unintelligible- partly because after the successful attempt to dethrone Duchess Satine Kryze, the Death Watch had been scattered and disorganised. The group had set about rebuilding the government structure quite early into their occupation and lots of work had to be done. 

Primary sources say that while the plan had been to frame Darth Maul and Savage Oppress for being behind the attacks on their people, the situation got out of hand after they had been sentenced to prison. With Pre-Vizla announcing his intent to execute the Sith pair, they were only jailed for a brief time before they broke out, killing guards without mercy as they did so.

While there had been no witnesses for what happened after, save for the Duchess Satine Kryze (who had been imprisoned at the time) and Ex-Prime Minister Almec. However, later accounts confirm that Darth Maul then went on to employ Almec, who had originally been imprisoned by Satine on charges of corruption, as a facade leader of Mandalore.