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The Mandalorian gave a strange, mistrustful look when he heard the Jedi`s suggestion. Luke wasn’t able to see his expression, but he had the confidence that Din Djarin was already raising an eyebrow while he was grimacing only at the idea of staying longer than necessary with him. And, trust be told, if the young Skywalker was to make a bet, he would have definitely won. Unfortunately for his finances, he had too little time to bet even with his sister. That might have been a reason why he accepted Djarin’s proposition and why Luke felt relieved when he thought about getting a break from Grogu. He wasn’t necessarily a bad padawan, but he was easy to distract, and he was as stubborn as Leia could be when she argued with her brother just to prove that she was right. And the worst part? Grogu only listened to Djarin. Force curse that damned man who was constantly picking things to do in the farthest corners of the galaxy. Sometimes the lad asked himself why he was still enduring the Mandalorian’s whims. Only if he wasn’t so well aware of the answer…
“Where’s Grogu, Skywalker? I don’t-”
“The kid is fine, Din. He’s probably playing with the others. He will eventually come here; he’ll sense your presence. You have nothing to worry about,” the blond tried not to puff ironically, a bit envious of the little kid who got the entire attention and worry of the Mandalorian.
What does he need to do in order to make that stupid, brick-headed, brainless man understand? Was he truly that clueless?
In other circumstances, Luke would have said that a scenario like that was improbable or stupid, but when it came to Din, every single stupid thing seemed more than possible. ‘He was raised in a cult,’ the man needed to remind himself while he was practicing breath exercise in order to not smash out all that foulness out of the Mandalorian’s head. But for the sake of his plan, he should stay composed and calm, keeping an imperturbable and lofty attitude.
“Probably?” the word sounded like Djarin was trying to crucify Luke for his lack of implication when it comes to his son's supervision. “What do you mean by ‘probably’?” he asked again, this time in a more temperate tone.
At first, the blond man ignored his inquiry, advancing in the little forest like he had not heard the Mandalorian. Luke didn't stop until he realized that the man wasn’t behind him.. Only then, with his hands clapped behind his back, he turned his head a little towards Din’s direction, speaking with an unshakable confidence and serenity, acting more interested in admiring the river that was making its way near his left side.
“He is saying goodbye to his new friends before he’s packing his stuff,” Luke spoke unbothered, as he hadn't already heard the accelerated pace of Djarin’s heart, and he wasn’t aware of the lingering anxiety from that man’s mind. “He’s quite easy-going when it comes to obtaining one’s friendship,” he added, chuckling rather amused while he remembered a moment from two days ago when Grogu was cornered by the curious younglings who started making him flower crowns and tiny bouquets.
“He made friends?” the man barely whispered, unsureness drowning his voice, his voice trembling a bit, almost as if the matter was simultaneously easing his soul yet troubling his mind both at the same time.
Luke was only able to smile in satisfaction while he piqued Djarin’s interest, knowing that from now on it would be easier to obtain the man’s attention. In addition, the Jedi only nodded in approval, starting to walk again through the short cutted grass and the young trees. With the river at his side and the Mandalorian trying to make up with his fast pace, the lad only advanced to one of the older willow trees that grew near the crystal clear water.
“He’s a kid after all, Din. Of course he made friends. Who wouldn’t taking the circumstances?”, the younger man smiled teasefully as he took a seat on a round rock, picking a white star-shaped flower. “Why so surprised? You know, the kids aren’t always following their parents paths and way of action” Luke chuckled a bit, his gaze unfocused, as if he was ready to offer an example that pained his soul. “Grogu has free will and a strong personality after all. Even if I tried my best to prevent him from being friendly towards everything and everyone, I would still fail miserably” he added while he sighed exhausted, playing with a flower. “He reminds me of someone”, he muttered under his breath, irritated, still not looking at the man that sat at his left, the only rays of sunshine mirroring in his helmet, almost blinding Luke.
On the other hand, the Mandalorian was looking at him, almost examining his desperate and aggravated expression as Luke was picking another flower, a pink one with sharper petals. With that helmet on, the young Skywalker was still unable to predict his reactions or to read his emotion, especially that Din Djarin was a little master when it comes to controlling his body reactions. Luke was many times almost convinced that he was made out of stone - no, not stone, metal.
Din Djarin was a walking sulky statue made of beskar, one that didn’t know what love or tenderness was.
And the most infuriating part was, the man wasn’t uttering a single word to him, as if he was waiting for Luke’s approval to speak. If the Jedi didn’t know better or wasn’t that fascinated with him, he would have acted more wisely and stopped bothering with this man's soul. Unfortunately for Luke, he was too tenderhearted to just let it slide. Sometimes, Djarin reminded him of other poor souls that he had met through his journey in destroying the Empire. So he felt pity for the man that was raised as being free and happy was an unspeakable sin.
“He only listens to you!” the man sighed deeply, trying to repress his urge to point fingers and to raise his voice full of resentfulness toward the Mandalorian. “He’s only observant when you are around. Otherwise it’s quite difficult to work with him” he mumbled with his brows frowned and his lips united in a straight thin line.
Djarin turned his head in his direction when he heard what he said, kneading his hands while he tried to catch every reaction and expression from Luke’s face. He bit his lips until he tasted his own blood, only then realizing that he was basically staring at Skywalker. A bit ashamed, he turned his head around, looking at the river that was flowing slowly and quietly, only then hearing the chirps of the birds. A sense of peace, in the middle of that nowhere, surrounded by all that nature, was capturing and conquering his heart, his mind started to feel clearer and calmer. It was as though every thought that was related to his own fears and anxiety was gone, long dead.
Where had Luke brought him? Why were they there while Grogu was in that temple alone, unattended?
“So Ahsoka Tano might have been right after all. He is truly too attached to me in order to be properly trained.” whispered the man while he cupped his hands together, steading himself as he was preparing himself to endure the awaited blow. Once again, the taste of blood was on his lips, but now the bleeding parts weren’t his lips but the inner parts of his cheeks.
“Ahsoka? What had she told you, Din?” inquired as he got closer to the Mandalorian, looking at him both intrigued and confused, a blond eyebrow raised in a perfect arc, mirroring a rising sun over the horizon of his face.
“Didn’t she tell you?” Din tilted his head slightly as he met Luke’s eyes, the shade of a perfect unperturbed summer sky, the shade that finally brought peace to the galaxy, but not for him. Luke was deeply disturbing his inner peace and stability. That man was slowly destroying everything he’d ever known, brick by brick, and the only thing he could do in order to protect himself was run.
Skywalker did not answer, instead gazed at him with those deep blue eyes that seemed to have been crafted so majestically only to drown every thought, fear and hope of the Mandalorian in their ocean pits. Din started to feel like his voice had been stolen, like his own words were choking him, a sensation he hated to admit that he was experiencing more frequently in the Jedi’s presence. Only now, staring at him without blinking and breathing, Djarin observed the little scrunch at the top of the blonde’s nose and the slight furrow between his brows. Also, the little sunkisses that left him with a deep honey skin tone and some faint freckles that, for an unknown reason to him, were driving him crazy. Only if he had the courage to kiss every single one of them… Only if…
“Ahsoka is scared about something she wasn’t and will never be able to control or stop, Din. But those are her fears, not mine.” Luke reassured him as he was closing his eyes, taking another few steps closer to the other man. “I have no plausible reason to be terrified by you or Grogu. He’s only difficult to teach, but that doesn’t mean I shouldn’t give it my all when it comes to his training. He deserves a chance as much as the others. And he’s also too powerful in the force to be left untrained. My auntie may fear what he could do with his abilities, but I’m more concerned about what could happen if he’s just left without proper guidance.” Luke ended his explanation with a deep sight as he was looking at the Mandalorian, smiling gently at him to calm him down. “You have nothing to worry about it” the blondman reassured him as he patted Din's right shoulder, the warmth of his hand lingering towards the Mandalorian’s arm as Luke let his palm slide carelessly from his shoulder to his forearm.
With a painful knot in his throat and a lot of warnings from his helmet’s system about his abnormal heartbeat rate and breath, Djarin began adjusting the neck of his clothes, asking himself when they have become so tight and thick. Or when it did it to get so hot outside while his hands were already sweating under his gloves. Unsuccessfully, he tried to swallow multiple times only to end with a strange taste of blood and salt while failing to utter a sole word. The only problem was that Luke Skywalker, the legend itself, the living hero of the galaxy, was slightly smiling at him as he was trying to calm down Djarin.
“But I haven’t brought you here to talk about Grogu”, the younger man broke the silence while initiating eye contact with the Mandalorian. “We need to talk about you.” He paused for a bit before he added the words, gazing into the helmet’s dark visor, looking at him with a soft embrace and a sweet innocence.
“Me? Why would you want to talk about me?” Din inquired confused, his emotions breaking through his well-made mask of stoicism. That was his first mistake, getting implicated in Luke’s wicked game of words.
“Why wouldn’t I? I know almost nothing about you.” the youth shrugged, blinking slowly as he was pulling a little show only for the man that was too mesmerized to look to the side. “Don’t you think I should start knowing more about you since you are technically the father of my padawan?” the young man added cunningly as he started arranging the cuffs of his shirt, vaguely smiling almost like he remembered something funny, perhaps a memory that made him a bit nostalgic.
Din only turned his upper body to face the Jedi when he heard his question, cupping his hands as a way to control his nervousness. A bit intrigued by his reasoning, the Mandalorian sighed with extreme self-indulgence, a faint hint of amusement being present in his voice when he started speaking.
“You are really capable of finding out anything that’s happening in this universe, Skywalker?” the man asked in a more relaxed manner even if his body was still tensed a bit. “How?” he added, unable to control his curiosity because Luke was indeed right. They really did know to little about each other.
“I’m Grogu’s favorite adult from the Jedi Temple” Luke answered with a wide smile, a scoundrel kind of smile, looking truly satisfied with himself when the Mandalorian crossed his arms and huffed in offence. “Your son also has plausible reasons for favoring me over the others. After all, I’m not the most powerful living human in this universe for nothing.” the Jedi added with a bit of arrogance as he was arranging his shirt’s collar, unaffected by the other man’s reaction.
“Whatever, whether you hold the most power in this universe or not isn’t in my expertise, but I’m pretty sure that was supposed to be your father. And if I’m not wrong, he continues to be still more powerful than you even in death.” Djarin started to count his arguments on his fingers, smiling both amused and malicious when he saw the intense reaction of the blondman. “But for what I know, your sister holds more power in her pinky than you do in your whole so force-sensitive body,” the man taunted him in a neutral manner, speaking as those were just facts and not biased opinions made up to upset Luke just a bit. “After all, she led a rebellion,” he shrugged innocently, tilting his head in a childish way.
Confronted with the merciless personal attacks initiated by the Mandalorian, Luke’s face turned from that sly expression to a deeply displeased one. His mouth twisted in a fine, straight, stiff line, his blue eyes sharpening with anger as his eyebrows furrowed in anger. With his ego insulted, he gave the other man an enraged look, his gaze capable of killing someone. Still irritated, despite trying to compose himself, the young man puffed irritated, making an uncomfortable eye contact with Din.
“How dare you?! I lead that rebellion along her side, you-” he was ready to curse the Mandalorian until his mouth would have gotten sore from all the screaming. But Luke stopped, giving that man a more analytical gaze as he realised something.
Din Djarin was just teasing him, picking at Luke’s behavior and twisting it around to offend the Jedi just for his fun. And probably as a revenge for Luke’s comments on his old ship, the Razor Crest. When did he become that sly and vengeful was still a mystery, but Luke had a feeling that his sister was involved in all of this. He was only able to force a fake smile as he was cursing the Mandalorian in Hutesse.
“Dank farrick, Din! Was that really necessary?” he asked in a sour tone, tossing and activating his lightsaber in a kinda aggressive way.
“Mhh… Let me think for a bit,” the man responded ambiguously, looking at what the blondwas doing. After half a minute had passed, he smirked under his helmet, adopting a nonchalant manner. “Well, you insulted my last ship, my lifestyle, my beliefs, my armour, my shooting abilities,” Din started to point out, once again numbering the arguments on his finger as a visual representation of his reasons' validity.
Chuckling nervously and sensing that Din took all of those as direct personal attacks on his identity, Luke raised his hands as a peace sign. With stiffness in his body, he forced an awkward smile, remembering every word that he addressed the Mandalorian when they first met. He was indeed a jerk back then, a stressed jerk if he was fair, but a jerk is still a jerk no matter the circumstances. Din had every reason to despise him for that nasty discourse of his.
“You are right. I was a piece of shit back then. I shouldn’t have said all of those. I’m pleading for your forgiveness,” he recomposed his patient nature while his gaze lowered, his conscience starting to bite and torment his soul. With an expression full of regret, he was ready to speak more before the Mandalorian interfered.
“So, what you are basically saying is that you shouldn’t have said all of those comments aloud?” Djarin spoke, unimpressed by his words, looking more unapproachable than before.
“Yes, this is correct,” the past wrongdoer answered in a small voice, still avoiding the man’s glaze that was almost burning him alive.
“But you would still think all of those, wouldn’t you?” the Mandalorian inquired in a calm tone, looking at the blondwith curiosity.
“Yes. No, no! No! I meant-... I wouldn’t! I would not, I swear!” Luke tried to correct his instinctive answer, his cheeks burning red with shame, especially when he heard Djarin’s amused laugh, the realisation hitting him again. The Mandalorian was truly making a fool of him for the sake of his own pleasure. “You are such a cruel man, Din!” he cried, exhausted from his taunting and teasing, looking affected at the man who wasn’t allowing him to catch a break.
“Am I?” Djarin put the question in a soft tone as he was getting a bit closer, tilting his head a little to the right as he raised his hand. In a matter of seconds, he was just ruffling Luke’s blond hair, chuckling at the younger man's confused, terrified expression. “Why so scarred, Luke? I haven’t pulled a gun or dagger,” he continued to torment the blond lad, the devilish smile that appeared on his lips being oblivious even to the Jedi despite the helmet.
The young Skywalker furrowed his brows as a response, fighting with the Mandalorian’s right arm in order to free his hair from his ruffling. Aggravated by the man’s little laugh, Luke sent him a deadly stare as he slapped Din’s armour with frustration. Despite everything, Djarin didn’t seem affected by the young man's attacks, like Luke wasn’t even trying. He only looked intrigued at the blond, his head still tilted, puffing amused at his attempts.
“Get your hand out of my hair, you, tin can!” Luke protested annoyed, while he was still fighting Din, his jaw clenched. “You aren’t funny at all!” he added as he was trying to back down, his eyes bloodshot with irritation as he started to pinch the Mandalorian.
“How did you call me?” the man inquired with a deeper voice than usual, his words sounding a bit harsh as if they were knives used to scribble on a wall’s surface. “How did you just call me, Skywalker?” he repeated in a grave, sober tone with a hint of annoyance as he clenched his hands around the blond’s wrists, pulling him closer.
Luke, with his heart racing because of the lack of space between him and the Mandalorian, swallowed dryly while his mind was trying to find a way to correct his phrasing. Seeing himself in such unfortunate conditions, the Jedi smiled awkwardly as he pulled the most innocent of smiles he could fame with his big blue eyes, soft features, and his quite round face. Blinking slowly, he looked right into Djarin’s black visor while he was sensing the man’s force and will, keeping his mouth shut as a way to prevent himself from aggravating the situation.
“A tin cane, you said?” the Mandalorian asked in quite a mocking way as he was tightening the grip as a response to Luke’s silence, not realising that the blond was already playing with his ability to breathe. “You are a bit too arrogant for your own good, Jedi. You keep forgetting that I’m a mercenary, after all. Just because I’m not showing you my cruel face, that doesn’t mean I don’t have one.” the man added in a lower, raspy voice, his words spoken with a strong accent from the Outer Rims.
“You are ruthless, Din. But so I am too. You aren’t that hard to tame as you think.”the Jedi thought to himself as he raised his chin a bit higher to be able to make proper eye contact with the Mandalorian. Unmoved by the man’s fierce and unyielding attitude, the blond smiled slightly as an idea was forming in his mind. If he wasn’t able to make the situation better, then he should make everything much worse. As Han once told him, “If you cannot beat them, kid, you play ten times more ruthlessly. If you aren’t good at being better than them, then be much worse.”
“Strip yourself,” Luke spoke those words in such a nonchalant way that Din instantly loosened his grip, staring at the Jedi both incredulous and shocked by what the man had just told him. “You heard me,” he added with amusement as he was smiling innocently while he made himself seem smaller and less threatening, a bit helpless as his wrists were still gripped together by the Mandalorian’s hand. “I said-”
“I heard what you said.” The brow-haired man stopped Luke, still in disbelief, his cheeks burning red under the beskar helmet. While he was trying to calm his heavy breathing, maybe an intervention from Luke’s force manipulation abilities, the Jedi was able to hear a warning from inside the man’s armour, which, in a robotic tone, informed him about the unexpected high blood pressure and the risks of it.
With a devilish smile carved on his face and his head lowered from Din’s eyes, Luke chuckled a bit amused at the advice that the systems inside the Mandalorian’s armor gave him. If he knew that all it took to intimidate and to flush that tough, cold-blooded, unapproachable man was to act like a thick-skinned womanizer who said off-hand comments and flirted without any filter or awareness of the unhingeness of his phrases, Luke would have adopted that approach earlier.
“I said,” the younger man repeated himself, “that you should start stripping for me, Din Djarin.” he added joyfully, laughing and chuckling when he heard the hard and dry way the Mandalorian swallowed. Unaffected by the man’s reaction or the shame he was supposed to feel, Luke smiled as he did nothing wrong, flashing his long eyelashes as he was starting to take off Din’s gloves, millimeter by millimeter, using his adorable blue eyes to exculpate himself from all the shameless acts he had done.
“Excuse me?” the poor, ashamed man asked with scepticism, still unaware of Luke’s intentions and actions, as he was insensitive to the Jedi’s force trick. And truth be told, the Mandalorian was truly too naive to think that the blond would try such a snickering thing as using his powers just to get his gloves off.
“What? I said that you should strip off your gauntlets.” the man clarified his statement with a guiltless expression on his face, his voice full of the purity of a child’s affirmation. “Don’t give me that look, Mandalorian! What were you thinking I was referring to?” Luke raises his eyebrows, intrigued, analyzing Din’s body and reactions. The blond puffed, quite amused when he saw Djarin turning his head from the facing position, looking at the colorful flowers that grew near his left boot. “Oh, you really…” The Jedi stopped, entertained by the man’s flushed gestures and acting.
“You are quite a mischievous guy, Skywalker. I cannot deny it. But I’m surprised nobody mentioned anything about this little detail,” the man pointed out as he was ready to pick up flowers, only now observing that his hands were stripped of their usual attire, his skin finally able to breathe and chill down a bit. Confused, he furrowed his brows, turning his head to face the Jedi with a look that asked him if this was his doing.
“What can I say? I told you we need to discuss you and your behaviors.” the blond justified himself when he shrugged his shoulders. “And before you ask, yes, it was necessary.” he cut Din off without hesitation, while he offered the man his left hand. “So you admit that you were actually gathering information about me!” Luke wasn’t able to control himself from teasing the other man, feeling once again like he was a teen teasing Solo about his lack of luck when it comes to getting in a relationship with Leia. He smiled slightly, with his hand still extended.
“I’m a mercenary,” he emphasized the words in a grave tone. “This is what I’m doing, and you aren’t any different from my other targets. After all, I need to know who is training my kid.” Din responded earnestly, with his body stiff and his chin raised, which could have been interpreted as arrogant and self-absorbed if you didn’t know him in the slightest. For Din, as Luke had learned it by himself, this was simply a gesture to show the attention and respect he was giving you. And if Luke was quite honest with himself, this was a Mandalorian’s way to demonstrate that he trusted you by showing his most vulnerable spot to strike, his neck. Despite himself and his self-control, the young Jedi was unable to restrain himself from smiling, a bit touched by that minuscule gesture.
“Wow! So dangerous! I’m so afraid! Protective dad protocol has been activated! Artoo, come save me!” the Jedi responded in a dramatic, ironic way as he was waving his hands, puffing amused when he saw the confused head tilt of the Mandalorian. “Don’t tell me you don’t know what sarcasm is,” Luke sighed deeply with a hint of exasperation in his voice, looking slightly surprised at Din.
“It’s not that, even if I’m not quite used to your kind of irony,” the man confessed without hesitation, his tone a bit too neutral for the blond’s preferences. But he observed that Djarin wasn’t making eye contact with him, his gaze staring at the Jedi’s gloved hand. “Aren’t you right-handed? I don’t remember you using your left hand as your dominant hand,” Din pointed up, confused as he lifted his head, looking into Luke’s eyes. “I’m sure you don’t wield your lightsaber – is this how you call your laser sword? – with your left hand,” he added as an explanation when he met Luke’s puzzled expression. Little did he know that the young Skywalker was surprised by his attention to detail and not by his statement.
Especially because the Mandalorian was right. Luke had a strong preference when it came to handling his lightsaber. If he could, he usually used his dominant hand, which happened to be his right.
“You… You are right,” the blond shuttered, still a bit surprised, with his eyes a bit bigger than normal. If he hadn’t been that confused, he would have made for an adorable view. Anyways, he was quite cute if Djarin was honest with himself. But he would have preferred a Luke that would give him a more tender kind of look, if that were possible.
“Then why did you offer me your left?” he started to put questions, refusing to break eye contact as he was following Luke’s gaze. “Also, why do you still wear your glove on the other one? Don’t you think this isn’t quite fair?” the Mandalorian added with faint curiosity in his voice as he made a little bouquet of the tiny flowers that he picked.
But the blond had not offered him any explanation as he kept his head lowered and tried to avoid Din’s insistent, almost burning-like gaze that made his skin hurt as if it suffered from fire injuries. With an intense lump in his throat, Luke was trying to resist the urge to use a physical method to calm his anxiety. Unfortunately for him, he wasn’t the kind who was skilled at hiding his emotions. As Leia once pointed out and Han kept repeating, his large, round-shaped eyes were a true disadvantage. He was far too expressive for his own good; his emotions always showing on his face or through his body language. Luke wouldn’t have made it as a spy or agent; his sister always used to tell him. And she was quite right because the blond was already chewing and biting his own lips even after he tasted his own blood on the tip of his tongue. The young Jedi’s fingers were itching like he had been bitten by millions of mosquitoes, and the blond already had a strong tendency to play with them every time he was agitated. That was why he refused to give the Mandalorian an answer, knowing too well he’ll eventually reveal to the man everything that he was hiding from him. Then what? Would he look at him with a shocked or disguised gaze? Would he stare or would he look away, avoiding the reality that was still haunting the young Skywalker? Would he or wouldn’t he? And what exactly would he or not? Luke’s head was spinning like a damaged X-Wing as he was rubbing his black glove, feeling the mechanical hand through the cloth, a severe sour taste filling his mouth. While looking with shame at his right hand, Luke realised that his forehead was already drenched in sweat, his body burning with embarrassment as his breath was suffering from a shortage. Aware of what was causing his body to have such a severe reaction, the Jedi let out a sigh escape through his lips, slowly closing his eyes as he was trying to enter a meditative state. Only when he was trying to put both his hands on his knees did he feel a tickling sensation in his left palm.
“I’m still waiting for my answer, Skywalker.”Din only remembered him in a soft voice as he was playing with the flowers, letting their petals touch the other man’s skin in a quite childish way. “Or I can take my guesses, and you’ll have to suffer from listening to my stupid theories. You choose, Luke. Or could I start calling you sunflower?” he inquired in a joyful, teasing way, chuckling with amusement as he saw Luke blushing on an instant when he heard the nickname Djarin chose for him.
“Stop it, Djarin! I’m not a sensitive, defenseless, dependent flower that can only focus on one thing, which is consuming all its resources in a foolish attempt to catch the sun's gaze! So stop messing around, you aren’t comical or interesting if you act like a six-year-old boy!” the blond puffed, offended, as his brows furrowed in anger. His eyes darkened, and his gaze sharpened as he was preparing to cut open that Beskar armour and then eat alive the man who was wearing it.
“Why not? You are quite like a sunflower with your blond hair and sky-blue eyes. You would be able to camouflage yourself in a field of such flowers!” Din continued to answer him in that unaffected tone, smirking, satisfied under his helmet as he was glancing at the flustered Jedi. He was a lovely thing to look at every time his cheeks got red, a flower that bloomed timidly as it was afraid that it might get hurt if it rushed to accomplish each goal of his.
“You aren’t even original”, Luke replied with animosity while he was arranging his cuffs, looking around as he was expecting someone to appear out of nowhere. “You think too highly of yourself if that’s all you can do, second-hand flirting”, the Jedi added carelessly as he was adopting a placid expression.
“Your smile reminds me of a sunrise in the middle of a deep ocean that’s able of such cruelty that only a brave or foolish man would dare to swim in at such an early hour.” Djarin cut his complaining and whining, holding the bouquet in his left hand as his right hand was slowly approaching the place where Luke’s left palm was resting. “At the same time, I see the calmest and the purity of an endless sky that’s willing to sacrifice anything to protect others.” The Mandalorian continues in a hurry, afraid that the young man would try to interrupt him and make a cynical comment, his voice trembling a bit as he tried not to butcher the words. “The brightest star in the galaxy…” he mumbled to himself as he timidly raised his head to look at Luke, putting the flowers in the blond’s lap, unaware of the surprised expression that he would provoke. “You are truly a new hope, Luke Skywalker”, Din declared in a whispering voice as the tips of his fingers brushed over the Jedi’s hand, leaving behind light shivers that felt like the touch of a soft spring wind. Hesitantly, with his heart beating at an accelerated pace and his lips captured in his teeth’s grip, Djarin slowly and reluctantly let his fingers lay on the blond’s skin.
Under the Mandalorian’s tender, gentle touch, Luke’s heart skipped a beat or two before starting to pump all his blood faster than it was normal. Astonished, the young man slowly lifted his gaze to meet the helmet’s dark visor, already daydreaming about making proper eye contact with the man inside it. The same eyes with which he had so many visions about, the same eyes that he imagined should be the most vibrant color, the same eyes that were beautifully, tragically, frustratingly haunting him in all of his dreams, the same pair that cowardly refused to let the Jedi feel their gaze wrapping around his features with a softness only reserved for him. Lips parted and the mind dizzied by many thoughts, the Jedi forced himself to swallow dryly while his chest was burning with something more than some friendly affection. Still looking into the man’s visor, the blond broke the awkward eye contact, smiling shyly as he lowered his head to chuckle abashedly of the tension between him and his padawan’s adoptive father. Luke almost wanted to start crying from frustration as he intertwined his fingers with Djarin, tightening his grip just as a precaution.
“What are you doing?” the Mandalorian asked in a small voice, a hint of amusement in his tone as his fingers started to caress the blond’s knuckles, acting like he wasn’t actively melting Luke’s knees and making his head spin.
“What color are your eyes?” the blond inquired with an innocent, confused gaze before he was able to realise what he had just said, the tips of his ears still burning. “What… what do you mean?” he asked further with his lips parted in confusion, his mind not cooperating when he felt how Din rested his other hand on his thigh, the man’s body heat warming the skin underneath the cloth.
“What have you just asked me?” Djarin puffed lightly while he was trying to hold in his laugh, biting his lips in a poor attempt. “You really asked me about my eye color?” he added while giggling, starting to play with the Jedi’s fingers. “I meant, why are you actively trying to stop my hand’s blood circulation? You know, I still need to pick Grogu if I want to leave, right? And weren’t you the one who said that we need to discuss something important?” the man inquired with curiosity while he lowered his head, staring at Luke’s left hand. “Can I?” he whispered softly, almost inaudible, as he offered the blond his right hand, looking at him with his head slightly tilted to the right. “Brown”, he muttered the word as it was the most well-kept secret from their galaxy, while he grabbed the man’s other hand.
“I’m not trying anything, Din! I was just checking your blood pressure. Wasn’t your helmet giving you warnings about it just now?” The blond raised his right eyebrow provocatively, making it clear that he was waiting for the man to prove him wrong. “Can I stop you?” he continued to answer sarcastically, his voice sounding slightly defensive while he was trying to mask the tremor in it. “Excuse me? What are…” the Jedi inquired confused, with his brows furrowed, as he was gazing at the Mandalorian before realization hit him. “Oh. Your eyes. They are brown…” he whispered, ashamed by his own lack of attention, incapable of defending himself or finding an acceptable and reasonable excuse. And his lack of inspiration was certainly a result of his hands being covered by Djarin’s and the Mandalorian’s fingers rubbing his own.
“The urgent conversation?” the man asked once more, already intrigued by what the blond could have to talk about with him. “Or have you already forgotten about it?” he added teasingly, smirking proudly under his helmet. In those situations, he was thankful for its existence, especially because it allowed him to peek at Skywalker and act nonchalant while he clearly wasn’t.
“Oh, shut up! Now you are just messing around with me!” Luke retaliated in an aggravated tone while unsuccessfully trying to withdraw his hands from the Mandalorian’s grip. He only sighed deeply when he saw that his attempts were futile, giving the man a look that encapsulated a mix of tenderness, curiosity, and frustration. “Why do you have to make everything so difficult?” he whispered to himself, feeling how Din was massaging his palms, uncertain if Djarin was trying to help him relax, was only teasing him, or was deprived of human touch for so many years that now he started to act stubbornly as a response to that, unwilling to let go of his hands. Maybe it truly was his first physical contact in decades, which, by any means, made the Jedi’s heart ache in pity.
“Mh… And so what if I am?” the Mandalorian asked in a sarcastic tone, the hint of mischief being oblivious in his voice as he spoke languidly. The man grinned under the helmet while he saw the offended Jedi’s facial expression, a little chuckle escaping his lips. “Oh, Luke, don’t give me that look. You really shouldn’t take it personally. I haven’t meant to upset you, I swear.” Din added sheepishly when he realized he may have pushed it too far, his grip on the blond’s hands getting feeble while he lowered his head, guilty. “What did you want to speak about with me? I’m aware you might grow a bond with Grogu – everybody that I met seems to do it too, for some unknown reason to me – but Bo-Katan requested my help on Mandalore,” Djarin spoke in a much more neutral way, his voice devoid of any feelings or attachment. Even his pose was more rigid, more presentable, his back straightened while he tried to withdraw his hands.
Luke’s face shifted into a grim expression when he heard about the request Bo-Katan had made, his brows unconsciously furrowing while his lips united in a straight, severe line. His gaze darkened as he sensed how Din’s had been slowly retracting, the absence of his touch feeling like an icy, merciless winter that was biting and scarring his skin. With a bitter taste in his mouth, the Jedi gripped the Mandalorian’s wrists, pulling him closer to his body. Firmly, he turned Djarin’s hand, starting to trace lines in his palm with a stubborn look on his implacable face, completely unaware of the man’s slight tension in his arms, the trembling present in his fingers, or his body temperature that started to get higher as Luke applied more pressure on Din’s skin.
“Luke.” the Mandalorian murmured in a raspy voice while he started panting, his temples already sweating from the heat inside his helmet. Surprised by the power of the man’s grip, Djarin let out a long sigh while he stared at their hand, baffled by the slightly aggressive approach. “What’s so interesting about my hands?” he inquired as he slowly lifted his eyes, seeing only a concentrated Jedi who was analyzing his palms.
“You know, you need to initiate more touch gestures with Grogu. He’s a kid, after all, and they need physical contact to develop properly. It’s important for how they form relationships with others and how they act in society. And it’s also the fact that Grogu keeps asking me why his dad doesn’t take his helmet off, even when he’s the only being around you”, the blond explained thoughtfully, speaking slowly and clearly as he was teaching a new concept to his younger padawans. “He thinks he upset you, Din” Luke added in a grim tone, raising his head to make eye contact with him, his look clearly affected and his lips upturned, a contribution to his sad expression.
“You know that, by the Creed, I’m forbidden to take my helmet off. That one time… Technically, it shouldn’t have happened.” The Mandalorian sighed with a sense of guilt that was devouring both his heart and his conscience.
“At least, you should explain the situation to him, Djarin. He deserves to know.” Luke replied adamantly as he stared into his soul with that pair of blue eyes that tried to scoop out his soul and hug it tightly until all the affection that he felt was transferred to Din. With a composed face, he continued to look at the Mandalorian while touching the tips of his fingers, holding back a satisfied grin when the man next to him was turning his head away in order to avoid his look.
Now, how do I eradicate some dubious cult out of his head? the blond asked himself when he got up, only to rearrange Djarin’s gray, torn long cape. Looking at it and the poor state it was, the Jedi started to think about what color he should choose for the new one. A bit of color shouldn’t hurt him, Luke was debating the possibility of giving him a red one. An accent color would make for a more refined appearance, even if that meant that the blond should use Grogu if he wanted to achieve his goal without any further troubles. He was sure that Din wouldn’t refuse anything that was given by his little son.
“I don't want to be like the past Order, Din. They viewed emotional attachments as a weakness, a way of exploitation and corruption. But that’s what led to their downfall, in my opinion. You simply cannot forbid a living being from loving and feeling overall. They made lonely warriors, and that’s more of a weakness than having someone you can rely on or love.” The Jedi spoke in a calm tone, smiling a bit shyly as he pulled his right glove off, putting it in his pocket. “I’m not wishing to follow their footsteps and repeat the same mistakes. I prefer to learn from them.” he added with a more relaxed approach as he put his right hand into the Mandalorian’s palm. “Showing affection shouldn’t be forbidden; it should be cherished. Love is a way to redeem oneself.” Luke declared with confidence as his fingers intertwined with Din’s, his smile brighter and happier, a little sun on a cloudless spring sky that was bathing everyone in his benevolence.
“I will try.” the Mandalorian mumbled timidly while his fingers were touching the artificial skin, finally understanding why the blond man was reluctant at first while he asked for his hand.
“Don’t try, do it.” Luke replied to him, starting to laugh amused as he remembered the person he was quoting, his smile getting a bit nostalgic. “That’s advice that someone wise gave me some time ago. You should listen to it, it will help you.” he explained when he saw how Din tilted his head, confused, impersonating Grogu without even trying to. A small chuckle escaped through the Jedi’s lips.
“Thank you for your guidance, master Skywalker.” Djarin responded with utter respect when he sat up, getting his grip loose on the blond’s hand as Grogu was running towards him, happily babbling when he spotted his dad and his shiny armor. “Hi, child. How you doin’?” the Mandalorian spoke in an amused tone, giggling when he raised his son in his arms, petting his head as he adjusted the way he held his kid. “Thank you for taking care of him. And for teaching him, Luke”, he added warmly as he raised his head, bowing his head as a way to show his respect.
Luke’s breath shortened when he heard Din’s words, his chest starting to ache as he was deeply stabbed and was on the verge of dying, or he was bittering with Leia, who continued to bully him about his disastrous love life and flirting skills. Also desperate, he fought the urge to grip the man’s other hand and to drag him closer in a tight embrace until he would eventually convince him to stay. Swallowing dryly, the blond man looked at the Mandalorian with a masked suffering in his eyes, his voice sounding more raspy and deplorable than he both anticipated and liked.
“I’m sure Miss Kryze is capable enough of handling the Mandalore’s problems without any major inconvenience. If I remember correctly, she was a general in the Clone Wars.” Luke gibbered with his cheeks burning as he took two steps closer to the place where Djarin was, smiling both nervously and foolishly as he would have been able to trick the well-versed bounty hunter.
Din only smiled with pity under his helmet when he saw how the blond started to get agitated about their temporally departure, a hint of amusement making him giggle slightly, in that lower, deeper voice that was only melting the Jedi’s heart. A bit saddened by the fact that he was going to disappoint him, the Mandalorian sighed shortly when he reached his left hand after putting Grogu down for a second, letting the kid look amazed at his reflection in the shiny, polished beskar armor.
“Luke, Bo has been rushing me over for half an hour already. I postponed my leaving more than I should have. It would be a miracle if she wouldn’t start to poke my eyes out in the first second of my arrival.” The man laughed with sadness while he gently covered Luke’s hand. “You need to understand that she isn’t the most patient person. She may have a friendlier approach towards me – even if I don’t understand why – but that doesn’t mean that she wouldn’t hold me accountable. She’s the type that holds grudges.” he tenderly coaxed the young man while he withdrew his right hand to the Jedi’s surprise. “It shouldn’t take longer, and after Grogu and I are done helping Bo, I’m going to take him on some journeys as my teacher had done with me when I was an apprentice. We should be back in a month or so. You wouldn’t even observe how the time had passed” he tried to convince and calm down the Jedi, touching his helmet’s neck seal until it was easier.
“Din.” was the only word Luke was able to utter before he saw how the Mandalorian slowly lifted his helmet just enough to pull the blond’s hands to his mouth and kiss them tenderly, placing his lips in a soft manner on both of his palms.
With his words blocked in his throat and an inability to reach faster, the Jedi only blinked slowly while he was trying to process what just happened. His cheeks were certainly starting to burn in a deep shade of red while his heart was beating like it was trying to rip apart from his chest just to run to the Mandalorian’s hands. The kissed areas were a bit warmer than the red of his skin, but he wasn't allowed the time to understand everything before Djarin had already taken three steps back and sealed his helmet. Only then he saw Grogu giggling amused after he looked at both his dad and his master, excitedly clapping his tiny hands.
“May the force be with you, Skywalker.” The man greeted him while he lifted his son in his arms, the kid happily waving at the blond. “Don't worry, Luke, you won't even have the time to miss us.” Djarin added in a friendly, teasing manner as he turned his back and headed to his ship.
But Luke knew this was a lie.
He had already started to miss them even before he saw the N-1 starfighter getting out of the planet's atmosphere, both of his new family members getting into the dangerous, unknown space. Looking at the sky, the Jedi started to curse himself when he realized he could have asked Din if he would have been willing to take him with them on their way to Mandalore. Remembering that the little starfighter was too tight and uncomfortable for even a single man and a tiny alien kid, Luke wrote down a mental note to also ask Leia for money in order to buy this stupid, oblivious, unwitted man a more spacious ship where he would be able to travel together with them.