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He gave Grogu the choice that he had never truly had.
It was frankly a surprise when Grogu made for the lightsaber and Luke smiled, feeling Grogu’s determination in the force, even though he could feel the innate sadness that the little one held within him. Luke had truly thought that he would choose the chainmail, which had been expertly crafted and Luke was honestly impressed with the workmanship – though, after seeing the Mandalorian’s armor, he wasn’t sure why he was surprised – and yet Grogu had chosen the way of the Jedi. It was a sacrifice, letting go of a bond in order to become a Jedi and use the force the way that Luke, Ahsoka, and many before him had learned. It was a relief, but it was also a heartbreak, and the Jedi Master reached forward, picking up Yoda’s lightsaber and returning it to the box, sensing Grogu’s confusion but deciding that this was something that should be taught much later after Grogu had a handle on the force again. The memory he had watched passively had been a nightmare, so much so that Luke had forgone bringing up more of the memories that Grogu held locked away, and he couldn’t help but appreciate that Grogu had chosen the way of the Jedi after seeing the massacre of them. It was brutal and it hurt the blond’s heart, seeing the clone army that had been so trusted by the Jedi turn against them because of the emperor filling him with an anger that tried to seep into his bones, but he let it go into the force as quickly as it had come and he looked to Grogu, who watched him with the large eyes that he felt were wiser than the young one appeared. He was fifty years old, but he was a child in the eyes of his species and Luke remembered that he was just a youngling, his padawan that had come to him after being found and protected by the Mandalorian and was nowhere near the wise and odd years of Yoda – no matter the strong resemblance to him. In a moment of memory, Luke smiled and remembered his Master, appearing out of nowhere and stealing Luke’s food, scrounging for anything to eat and tormenting both him and Artoo. It had been a lesson, a test for Luke to see if he was ready to train, and he had wholeheartedly failed before trying to prove himself and ultimately failing his Master a second time, finding that his love for his friends and his sister were too much to overcome.
Yet Grogu had done just that.
“You have done well, little one, and let your strong attachment to your friend go. However, I don’t believe that you really need to be one or the other – Jedi or Mandalorian – that is not the way of the new Jedi Order and it is not how I will teach you,” Luke spoke softly and Grogu looked up at him with wide eyes, his confusion palpable in the force. He waited a moment, forming what he wished to say in his mind and let the force guide him through his determination, ignoring the sounds of the gentle breeze lightly rocking the bamboo that surrounded them, using it instead to center him as the wind rustled the grass that grew around their newly formed hut. The weight of what he was doing nestled in his heart and he closed his eyes momentarily, breathing in and feeling a strong presence nearby, encouraging him to do what he thought was best – encouraging him to do what was right by Grogu. Opening his eyes, he smiled down at Grogu and the little one gave him a small noise of wonder, which he used often as he worked with Luke, and Luke couldn’t help the warmth that he let seep into their tentative training bond.
“I’ve been searching for a long time for Jedi artifacts, to learn the ways to teach students like you, to make sure that I wasn’t making a big mistake bringing back the Order,” he let out a small chuckle, “and to make sure that I myself hadn’t let my own attachments cloud my mind,” he reached out with his gloved hand, lightly brushing the top of Grogu’s head in comfort as his padawan listened with great effort, even though there were many frogs croaking around the hut, “I learned many things in my five years of study. In the sacred texts of the Jedi and the Holocrons filled with their wisdom and learnings, I came across a being called Tarre Vizsla. He was the first – as far as I’ve read - Mandalorian Jedi who wielded a lightsaber he made himself and ruled Mandalore with it.” He explained and Grogu’s ears perked up, seemingly waiting with baited anticipation. Luke’s smile widened and he tried not to grin, finding it hard not to be happy in the presence of such unprecedented excitement.
“I believe you could be the second Mandalorian Jedi, if you so choose, but we’d have to make sure that it’s okay with your friend,” he says with an addendum, even though he was quite sure the Mandalorian would be thrilled to teach Grogu the ways of the Mandalorians, “though I highly doubt that he’ll be against it. We would need to train first, unless he wants to stay with us for a little while, so that you can understand and remember the ways to use the force and control your reliance on it, but I do believe we can make you into such a Mandalorian Jedi that you can rule Mandalore one day in peace.” Luke playfully added on the last bit, though he wasn’t against whatever path his student would make for himself, he only hoped that he would not fall to the dark with ambition like his father had. Like Luke, in his anger at his father and fear for his loved ones, almost had.
“Come, little one, I do believe that we can find him very easily – he has a very strong force signature and he won’t really be hard to find, especially in that ship,” Luke chuckles as Grogu’s eyes light up and he turns at his hips, moving so that he can take up the chainmail and, with a small struggle, he helps Grogu situate it under his robes.
“There we are – the second Mandalorian Jedi is off to a good start on earning his armor and his lightsaber,” he states kindly, smiling fully now.
The happy noise he received in return was almost too much for his poor Jedi heart to bear.
His X-Wing was not inconspicuous, not even in the slightest, but it was all he had and although Artoo was not happy about returning to Tatooine of all places, they had followed the Mandalorian’s force signature here with ease as it was so familiar to Grogu. Their training bond had improved significantly once he’d told his Padawan that they would go find his friend – no, his father, as Grogu called him buir in his mind. Luke knew what that meant, he had read about Tarre Vizsla after all, and it brought about a small sadness in the Jedi as his father’s presence circled him in the force, but never showed his face since he saw him by his funeral pyre. He had been smiling then, proud of his son, and it had felt like he’d accomplished something – that he’d brought Anakin Skywalker back into the light – but now his father didn’t show his face, refusing any call that he sent out into the force and even Obi-Wan wouldn’t appear. Blowing a little air through his nose, he kept his hope out of his chest and instead focused on trying to land as inconspicuously as he possibly could in the desert that was once his home. Thinking of it after receiving an image from Grogu, he landed in a port that was based in Mos Eisley, finding a familiar figure walking out to, possibly, give him shit for the upkeep of his ship and, also possibly, because he was alive and well and had Grogu with him.
With the usual ease of getting out of a ship, Luke pushed himself up and out of the cockpit and turned, taking up his pack and then helping Grogu into it before carefully adjusting it over his shoulder, looping his arm into the other strap to stabilize his Padawan inside and then adjusting what he needed to on it. Artoo whistled and lowered himself from the back, rolling over the sand to join him as he hopped off the wing and landed gingerly, using the force to not jostle the child.
“Listen, you can’t just park your rebellion era—kriff, Wormie Skywalker?!” Peli Motto was just as loud, happy and fun as she was when he was a young moisture farmer working at her shop for a few extra credits and the chance to use his hands. He had been happy, tinkering away and repairing ships and learning different systems in different crafts, wanting one day to fly away. He had no idea that when he had flown away with Obi-Wan he would end up almost not wanting to leave, his grief over his aunt and uncle so palpable he’d tasted it like the smoke that billowed from their destroyed home. It had been in his lungs, choking him, but he had been drawn to Leia, his twin’s familiarity not registering with him as he sought her out, not knowing who she was but unknowingly feeling the force pull him to her. He would have never thought, never in a million years, thought that he would face what he did as he came into the mystical world of the Jedi.
“Peli, it’s good to see you again,” he can’t help but smile, his heart beating happily in his chest as his boots sink in familiar sand and the twin suns warmed his body, his black garb not truly suited for the environment he now found himself in. The sounds of Mos Eisley bustled around him, much louder than their little slice of peace that he’d made for them, and he found himself ready to race along the sand dunes like he did when he was younger, away from the overwhelming feeling of life around him – the force swirling and ringing to a point where it was almost nauseating. Maybe he’d been in solitude for a little too long, but he would get used to it again – he would have to, Leia would want to see him soon and she most likely would not want to travel around on the Falcon, pregnant as she was and with Han flying like an absolute maniac.
“I thought—we’d all thought that the empire had got you – where did you go, kid?” She asks and she brings him back into focus, “and why do you have the little guy? Did Mando drop him off with you for the time being? He’d said he took him back to his people – but you aren’t green, Wormie.” He laughs, the sound reverberating through his chest and he can feel Grogu’s joy at his own, finding it sweet that the little one seemed concerned that Luke was a little too serious at times.
“No, I am definitely not green – however, I am a Jedi and this little one will be trained as one too,” he says kindly, his gaze finding her own and a feeling of nostalgia hit him. Oh, how he would love to sit with her and tinker on his ship, fixing it up to be on par with the updated X-Wings, with original parts of course, but he needed to find the Mandalorian and ease the ache to see his friend in Grogu’s heart.
“By chance, have you seen the Mandalorian recently?” He asks and she grins and he can feel the pride radiating off of her.
“I have – fixed him up a Naboo Starfighter – you know, it was made to protect the Queen – and he went over to the old Hutt place to see Boba Fett.” The shock he felt was minimal, he should have known the bounty hunter would have escaped a Sarlaac pit, it wasn’t his style to die easily and he was a Mandalorian so his armor probably protected him fairly well, however, realizing that the ship he’d seen was made to protect his mother was an even bigger deal. It felt like a piece of a home he would never have and he wondered if the Mandalorian would let him see it up close, let alone fly it. Stars, he wanted to fly it.
“Thank you Peli – I need to take Grogu to see him, but I’d love to talk when I get back. Do you mind taking a look at my X-Wing while I’m here? I’m sure it could use your expertise on a tune up,” he can’t help but soften from the tense Jedi to the young man he was, Peli’s mere presence able to transform him.
“Sure thing, Wormie – I’ll hold you to filling me in later, so don’t you wander off too far! I want you back in one piece so I can properly give you hell for worrying me, Skywalker!” She calls to him as he laughs and walks through the front, glancing around before pulling his hood up over his head and making his way through the streets, frowning as his mere presence seems to attract a lot of attention. Breathing in through his nose he lifts two fingers of his gloved hand, reaching out to the force and guiding it to shield them, manipulating their existence into the mundane so as to take focus off of them. It took a few minutes, but he found a place to rent a speeder and he gave them a fair number of credits to let him keep it for a few days and the one he was given seemed to be the nicer of the bunch, though it still looked a little too worn in to work as well as the one he’d fixed up a long time ago for him and Owen to run around on.
“Keep your head down, we’ll have a lot of sand kick up around us,” Luke advised Grogu who he could feel ducking in the pack over his shoulder and Luke chuckled before pulling on a pair of goggles and dropping his chin, ready to take off across the dunes of Tatooine.
It was so familiar and his heart leapt, free of inhibition just for a little while as he navigated to an all too familiar palace and stopped short, knowing full well he may not be welcome here at first, if ever. Granted, it wasn’t directly him who had Boba falling into a Sarlaac pit and to be fair, he’d worked with Darth Vader to Carbonite Bath his friend and sold him to Jabba for a bounty, so it was really more so like they were pretty much even.
Parking the speeder, he hefted Grogu up a bit, situating him on his back a little more comfortably before looking up and raising a hand, stopping the blaster bolt from hitting him and sending it far away to kick up sand and singe it. He blinked, finding it odd the blaster fire had immediately ceased and then he smiled as a woman in black made her way out, her footsteps sure but her posture wary. As she neared, she seemed to relax and he could tell from her shoulder’s tension falling and her rifle being slung over her shoulder that she was no longer looking to kill or maim him. Hopefully it had been to maim, but it did nearly take the blond hairs from the top of his head – which would have been a very different look than he usually sported – so he assumed it was to kill.
“You’re the Jedi, Skywalker. Din said he’d gone to see Grogu and been warned off – now you show up with him?” She’s terse and her facial expressions belay none of the annoyance she’s radiating in the force, but he doesn’t mind, it is a very odd thing, after all.
“He made the choice, in the end, whether or not to see Grogu – and Grogu made it clear that it would be okay for him to see him,” Luke explains, not really wanting to go through the test with the woman as it seemed like she really wasn’t all too interested, “he’s very anxious to see him, if you can help us. I heard that he was here..”
“You came at a really bad time, Jedi. We’re dealing with a lot of shit right now – but I guess if Djarin sees him then maybe he’ll be a little more focused, when he came back he was pretty quiet – more so than usual,” she says and a little smirk appears on her face, as if it she were telling an inside joke, and Luke can’t help but give her a small smile, “come on. He’ll be happy to see the kid.” She nods her head towards the entrance of the palace, acting as a guide to a man who knew very well how to enter this palace. When they did, he was met with a harsh “Jedi!” and a blaster drawn, with Boba Fett’s momentary anger radiating through the room. The whole group followed suit, excepting Fennec and the Mandalorian, and Luke stood calmly, perfectly ready to fight but not wanting to have to involve Grogu in the matter.
“Wait!” The Mandalorian, or Djarin as he was referred to as, cried and moved forward quickly, clearly ready to defend Luke if the protectiveness towards him in the force was anything to go by. It was kind and he knew it was because he was his son’s teacher, that he could discern because Luke was sure there would be an insurmountable level and possibly shots fired if he spotted Grogu before coming over to him, but he also assumed it was to protect the others.
“Boba Fett, I’m glad to see you well – well, partially glad. You’re not in the business of Bounties anymore, are you?” Luke asks politely and he’s only mildly surprised when the bounty hunter pulls off his helmet and laughs loudly, holding the helmet under his arm with a practiced ease that made Luke blink at him. He’d heard there were different Mandalorians and read about them of course, just like there were different Jedi’s, but he had assumed that Djarin was the shining example of what a Mandalorian was. Perhaps he was just one example of one of many ways of being a Mandalorian. Thinking on that, he remembered what he’d read about those that worked under Maul and the fall of Mandalore – there were many different Mandalorians, just like Jedi and Sith were different.
“It’s good to see you too, Jedi. I heard you slayed Vader and the Emperor and another death star, since the first one just wasn’t enough for you – seems you’ve been busy since last we met,” he paused, eyeing Djarin then Luke for a second, “I’ve decided to become Daimyo and take over Hutt’s territory, so no bounty hunting for me anymore,” he replied and Luke felt the room’s tension begin to ebb away, “it also appears as if you’ve become a teacher – I didn’t realize Jedi did field trips.” Luke smiled at the perceptive nature of the man and he saw Djarin startle before Grogu popped up over his shoulder, a small claw reaching towards him as Grogu made a happy coo at him.
“I’m sorry to have turned you away earlier, Grogu had to pass the test I was made to about handling attachments – though, initially, I failed that one,” he says with a kind smile, “I do believe you had some involvement in that part.” Luke looks to Boba Fett who laughs again.
“Well, when Darth Vader offers you that many credits, you tend to take the bounty,” the man shrugs and Luke chuckles, shaking his head before he pulled the pack around, slipping an arm out to manage it, then taking Grogu up out of it and carrying him to Djarin, who met him halfway.
“Hey buddy,” the Mandalorian’s voice was soft as he took Grogu into his arms, his touch gentle, even when touching Luke, and the Jedi swallowed at the contact. It was one thing when Grogu snuck over to him in the night and curled up next to him, seemingly wanting the kinship of his teacher and used to the nearness of his father, but when someone took such care with touching him it felt odd. It didn’t help that the man had such a soft tone that he used with Grogu.
“Grogu and I have done a little bit of haggling,” Luke states and Djarin looks up to him, surprised by him it seemed, “we’ve decided that he will train both as a Jedi and a Mandalorian foundling. I believe there was once a Mandalorian Jedi by the name of Tarre Vizsla and so I don’t see why there cannot be another.” The absolute joy that burst into the force, exploding from the Mandalorian, was almost overwhelming and he was shocked when the man nearly leapt forward and pulled him into a one-armed hug. Luke smiled brightly, after having to process being overstimulated in both the force and physically, and gave him a pat on the back, his gloved hand nearly bunching in the man’s cape before he let go. There was a loss of warmth after that and the Jedi was almost surprised by the fact that a man in beskar armor had been radiating such heat. Perhaps it was because he’d been out in the twin suns for so long, his black clothes had kept him nice and warm, too warm, as well.
“Thank you,” the man sounded embarrassed by his own reaction and Luke couldn’t help but smile at him fondly.
“Of course, far be it from me to tell someone they can’t have family that they love,” Luke says with a laugh, dipping his chin to shake his head at himself, “I abandoned my Jedi training to lose to Darth Vader, lose a hand, and lose a friend to Carbonite,” Luke shrugs, “I’d say I wouldn’t have done it now that I’ve trained for longer to become a Jedi Master, but I’d probably do it again in a heartbeat. Maybe this time, though, I’d be able to keep the hand.” He holds up the gloved hand and he hears Boba chuckle as he nears.
“You’ve grown up, Jedi – but not without hardship,” Boba Fett’s dark gaze finds the spidery scars from the emperor’s lightning running down his wrist, just barely visible, and Luke drops his hand to his side, giving Boba a slight head bow.
“Indeed, both of us have endured forms of hardship – we all have,” Luke states and his blue gaze finds everyone inside the room, taking note of all that are there, “I should go find a place to stay while you all continue as you were. I believe you would like to spend a little time with Grogu, Mr. Djarin, so I will leave you to it—”
“No, please – stay, we… well, we could use your help,” Djarin asks of him and he finds it hard to say no when Grogu looks to him with that hope of a child that has been reunited with someone so precious to him, “You are the strongest fighter I have ever met. We’re fighting against slavers, spice runners, and mercenaries and we’re gravely outnumbered.” Djarin informs him and he glances to Boba Fett who gives him a nod, which he returns in kind – perhaps then they will be truly even.
“Well, the Jedi were negotiators and peacekeepers, supposedly, but it sounds like those two things are not going to work – so I’ll just have to fight on your behalf,” Luke bows his head towards Fett, ignoring the gaze boring into him through a shining beskar helmet, “as long as you promise to not become a slaver like Jabba was. My family were slaves here on Tatooine, the only reason I’m not is because of a kind pair of Jedi and the Queen of Naboo.” Luke’s words seem to affect the room in many different ways, surprise mostly, and then curiosity.
“The Queen of Naboo? My ship was designed to protect her,” Djarin states and Luke almost feels bad, as if he’d set him into a trap that Luke unwittingly formed, even though it would definitely set up maybe getting to fly the man’s ship at some point.
“Yes, Queen Padme Amidala, my mother,” Luke states with a smile, his mind pulling up the holocron images of his mother, her elegance and dark eyes and kind countenance – it was something he could see in Leia and sometimes himself. Leia told him that he was more like her than his father but after speaking with Ahsoka, he was convinced perhaps that there had been a side to Anakin Skywalker that few really saw.
“You’re a prince?” Djarin asked and Luke laughed, not derisively but good naturedly.
“Not even in the slightest – at least, I think. I never really thought to check,” that was something interesting and he shrugged his shoulders as one of the people towards the back seemed to snort and Luke took that as disbelief. He didn’t mind, he didn’t really look imposing, excepting his black garb, and Leia told him once that even when he frowned, he still looked too kind.
“Well, General Skywalker, Fennec will show you where you’ll stay and we’ll figure out where to put the savior of the Galaxy in our war plans,” Fett was both making fun of him and asserting to the others that there was something to fear about him, which Luke wasn’t sure about, but he let the man assert his dominance in his domain. Fennec, the woman with the rifle and keen eye, made her way over and gestured for him to follow her, which he was all too happy to do as he wasn’t really sure of the people in the room.
“Come on, General,” she says with a wry smile and Luke returns it, his calm façade securely in place as he maintains his straight posture and light way of moving, keeping up with the sniper as she led him down a few halls to a small room that he thanked her for showing him before stepping in and closing the door behind him. There was a modest fresher, a small cot with a thin blanket, and a rug with holes in it.
“Cozy,” he blinks at it before stepping further inside and setting his pack on his bed, pulling out a ration bar and setting it out, then unclipping his lightsaber from his belt and setting it beside that. Inhaling through his nose he centered himself before sighing and reaching up to undo his cloak, pulling it off and folding it up neatly. Next, he unzipped his boots and pulled them off, setting them at the end of the cot before he turned and used the fresher. It was surprisingly well built, though it was Jabba who had it built so his expectations had been the lowest they could go, and when he finished, he settled on the rug on the ground and centered himself. He focused on the training bond as the air in the stifling palace began to cool and the world became darker as the twin suns began to set, the hot desert becoming frigid eventually.
“You’ve made a wise choice, Luke,” he was mildly surprised by who had come to visit him, but it was very much welcome as he opened his eyes to see what he guessed was the younger Obi-Wan Kenobi, “the Mandalorians are just as rigorous in their ideologies as the Jedi and with Grogu putting aside his attachment and bond it is wise to train him in both. He will know the ways of each culture and I do believe he can become just as strong as Tarre Vizsla was.” Luke smiles as he looks upon his former friend and teacher, seeing the kindness in him even though he was but a ghost of the force.
“I would have thought you wouldn’t have approved,” Luke raised an eyebrow and Obi-Wan chuckled.
“At one point I wouldn’t have, but after the fall of Anakin I see where I made mistakes and where the Order failed us all. I also have met many, many Mandalorians in my time and I know that this Mandalorian will honor an agreement with you – I can sense it in the force. Your test of Grogu as well was sufficient, in my eyes. I regret not doing the same for your father and protecting him more than I did,” the Jedi admits and Luke’s gaze softens as he watches the man almost fidget in regret, “one day I will let this regret flow through the force, but it will be difficult. I hope that you will never have to do the same.”
“I hope so too, Obi-Wan,” Luke responded and with that the ghost of a former friend disappeared.
He did not sleep, which was a wise choice, as one of the men in the outfit that Boba had hired had decided to pick the lock of his room and he assumed, even though it was a very silly notion, tried to rob him in the pitch black. The scream he’d emitted when Luke had lit his lightsaber had actually been rather comical and it had alerted Djarin, who apparently was just a few doors down with Grogu, and when Luke walked out into the hallway the man was in a ripcord and the Mandalorian was standing over him.
“I was curious, I swear, I wasn’t going to steal anything—”
“Of course, he wasn’t,” Luke spoke up as a group formed, Fennec moving to stand above the man with her rifle in her hands instead of hanging on its sling over her shoulder, “as a Jedi I do not have much to provide for a thief. The only thing that is precious to me in this room is my lightsaber, which I would have to remove from your person should you have stolen it.” His let his last words take a darker tone as they fell from his lips and he narrowed his eyes at the man on the ground before turning off his lightsaber with a flick of his thumb. Giving a nod to the Mandalorian and a smile to the little form of Grogu peeking out from the doorway behind the man, he let himself ease from the tense form he’d taken – years of battle still etched into his muscle memory.
“There’s no harm done here,” Luke assures everyone and nods to the Mandalorian, who uses a vibroblade to cut through the rip cord and free the man afterwards, before the Jedi looks to his small padawan.
“Get some rest, little one,” Luke says and he turns and makes his way back into his room, locking the door once more before sighing and settling back down to meditate. It wasn’t a very good way to rest, sleeping was much better, but it was clear that he would have to keep up his guard while he was here. He would help Boba Fett and hold him to his promise, then he would speak with the Mandalorian as to how they would split up their training. Perhaps they could also spar with each other and Luke could have someone to work with – it would be nice to have someone his height to deal with as well. Frog leaping Grogu had become natural to him, which he had a feeling the Mandalorian would either find hilarious or at least approve of, but it would be nice to just walk next to someone. He wondered if the Mandalorian talked more or he was just as quiet when he was comfortable with people, if he would ever be comfortable with Luke. It was an odd thing to wonder and he was just going to meditate on his newfound fascination with the man when there was a knock on his door and he raised his gloved hand, two fingers waving casually and unlocking the door. The man must have heard it as he opened the door, bringing Grogu inside with him and then turning and locking the door behind him.
“Grogu was concerned about you,” Djarin states plainly and Luke raises his brow, but smiles at him all the same as Grogu is set in front of him and the little one waddles to him, climbing into his lap and settling there as the Mandalorian has to carefully lower himself down to the ground and looks beyond uncomfortable in the same position.
“I appreciate the concern,” looking down at Grogu he finds that his Padawan’s small, clawed hands were now raised up, lightly grasping the black cloth of his front, “I’m quite alright little one, I was meditating so he didn’t surprise me. I more so surprised him – lightsabers can be very intimidating – your buir would know, he has one himself.” Luke’s soft tone seems to ease his youngling’s mind, calm and warmth emanating from him, and the Jedi can’t help but use his non-gloved hand to pet the soft fuzz at the top of Grogu’s head. The young one cooed at him and Luke chuckles before looking up to see the Mandalorian looking at him with a tilt of his helmet, his force signature radiating affection and something else.
“What do you know of the Darksaber?” Djarin asks and Luke pauses, looking to the man’s belt before the Mandalorian unclips it and offers it to him freely, making the Jedi blink. Holding it up and away from Grogu, Luke flips the power cell on and the black blade rises from the hilt, the white glow of the outer edge eerie and the shape of the blade much different compared to his own lightsaber.
“It’s beautiful,” Luke states, “and formidable. I can see why it is the sword of kings. Which, I assume you are now?”
“Kriff, no,” Djarin responds quickly and Luke laughs, loud and bright and he can feel it in his chest and it feels so nice.
“So, you don’t wish to rule Mandalore? How did you come to possess it?” He inquired and the Mandalorian hung his head, which was adorable considering the helmet, but Luke attempted to hold back his laughter, having to bite his lip to keep from possibly embarrassing him again. Outside there was the sounds of people speaking and oddly it sounded like a sleeping Rancor was nearby, but it was the cooing of Grogu and the silence of the Mandalorian that was the loudest noise – or lack thereof on the Mandalorian’s part.
“I fought Moff Gideon for Grogu, he threatened him with it and then attacked me. When I won it became mine, I-I didn’t know what it meant,” the man sounds almost broken, “the redheaded Mandalorian I was with, her name is Bo-Katan, she wanted to fight him for it and then take back Mandalore. I tried to give it to her—”
“But the Darksaber can only be won, not given. The last time it was, Mandalore fell and it was Bo-Katan who had wielded it last,” Luke explained fully and the man perked up, “I know of how it’s passed down, along with the history of Mandalore – or at least, some of it. The texts are hard to find, the empire purged most all of our shared history, but if you’d like to read the books I have, I’d be more than happy to share with you.”
“You mean, I could visit?” He sounded so hopeful and Luke felt his lips quirk, but he didn’t want his newfound friend to feel like he was laughing at him.
“Of course, I know it seemed like it was unwise and Ahsoka believed so, but Grogu passed the test of attachment that I gave to him and I believe he can keep himself balanced in the force, as I have,” Luke explained, “which is why I came here, to make sure you knew you were always welcome.” Luke explains and the Mandalorian nods and Luke extends his hand that holds the Darksaber, Djarin reaching forward and taking it, but pausing for a moment as he does, fingers touching the palm of Luke’s gloved hand. Luke staid himself, his whole arm tensed, and the force swirled between them chaotically before it turned into a soothing warmth, something comfortable and good. It took a second, but Din took the saber and they both stayed silent before Luke looks down and sees Grogu, asleep in his lap and completely content.
“He likes you.” Djarin states and Luke smiles down at the little one, feeling the comfort of the force between their bond.
“He loves you,” Luke reminds the Mandalorian – the man remains quiet and leaves not too soon after, taking Grogu with him.
Their opposition has an impressive team of people to work with them, there’s something to say for that, but they don’t have the might of the empire and Luke still knew what war felt like and how to fight. It wasn’t what the rebellion had felt like, this time he was stronger, and he didn’t have the weight of the Galaxy’s survival on his shoulders. Grogu was kept safe in the Palace as he and Djarin stood next to Boba Fett, the Pykes and their syndicate standing opposite, and all hell broke loose once one of the Pyke’s men shot Djarin in the shoulder – thankfully hitting his armor. Still, Luke waited for Boba Fett’s signal, that it was too much for the group to handle, and then he looked to Luke and nodded – and that was all he needed. When he ignited his lightsaber there was a moment of fear that shot through the group and Luke moved, a calm settling in him that came with experience in being outnumbered in a battle, and the force flowed through him like a gentle river that would shift in a heartbeat if someone got too close, if someone nearly hurt one of the others, and he tried to do his best to preserve life – though with most it was practically impossible. The darkness that spread through them all, the dark side of the force, felt oily and it made him sick, but he held fast, pulling one to him and slashing before twirling and kicking the next one – adding the force with his thrust to send him flying. He blocked a blaster bolt from the left, a Duros, possibly a bounty hunter by the looks of him, took aim at him but he reached out with the force and pulled, the blaster flying out of the Duros’s hands. They shared a look and then the Duros sneered and seemingly disappeared in the haze of sand that was kicked up from their battle. Luke moved on from him, finding that a large group had amassed and Boba Fett and Djarin were fending them off as the mods were trying to watch their backs. Fennec was holding her own easily while Black Krrsantan was tossing around and pulling apart several of them near her while the two guards – who looked awfully familiar – stuck close to Fennec and drove some off.
“Right,” Luke murmured before taking off running and leaping high into the air, gathering the force and then slamming himself down, palm facing the ground below him and sending a shockwave through the enemies he’d just thrown himself into.
That had apparently been enough and the Pykes left, quickly.
Looking around Luke assessed those around him, doing his best to ignore the smell of coppery blood and burnt flesh as it filled the air around them, and he counted heads, finding that everyone pretty much was accounted for. His gaze found the shining metal of the Mandalorian Djarin and he smiled, getting a nod from the man in turn, the two of them meeting up as their people regrouped and Luke retracted his saber, clipping it on his belt and looking over Djarin to make sure he wasn’t injured. He still favored his left leg, but he’d been doing so for a while, and he could tell that he was winded – which Luke had an idea was from using the Darksaber, as he’d spotted him swinging it earlier – but otherwise he seemed alright. Djarin appeared to be doing the same to him and he felt gloved hands grasp his shoulders as the man tilted his head, his gaze easy to feel even though he couldn’t see it. He was apparently fine as the man let his hands fall and Luke grinned as the man patted him on the bicep awkwardly, lifting his gloved hand and knocking lightly on the top front of the Mandalorian’s helmet in return – because he was only twenty-eight and sometimes, he didn’t want to be serious. His tormenting the Mandalorian was over in a second as Boba Fett made his way over and slapped a hand on Luke’s shoulder, his helmet off and under his other arm, his mouth pulled into a grin and his eyes crinkling at the edges.
“Next time, Jedi, lead with that one,” Boba Fett said with a laugh and Luke laughed as well before turning to see Djarin walking away, back towards the palace.
“Don’t mind him, I think he’s got his armor twisted,” Boba states and Luke raises a brow at him, the odd comradery they now held between the two of them filling the force around them with a simple breezy, peaceful feeling, “Mandalorians generally find those who are skilled in the art of combat exceedingly attractive. It must be amplified for him since you’re naturally attractive.” Boba is making fun of him again, but Luke doesn’t mind it, though he does give him a raised eyebrow, just managing to keep himself from blushing and hoping that if it did look like he was blushing he could blame it on the twin suns that were trying to burn him to a crisp.
“Well, with you around Fett I don’t know how he keeps his armor on,” Luke teases and there’s a wild, boisterous laughter that fills the air as Boba Fett exudes joy in the force for just that moment and then they’re all heading back, the group preparing to defend the palace if need be while Luke goes to gather his things – perhaps he would invite Djarin to stay with them for a bit, so he can get a sense of what he would need to train Grogu with and perhaps he can help him with the Darksaber. It looked like it weighed more than a bantha. He made his way into his little room and opened the door, finding the Mandalorian there and Luke felt a smile stretch across his face as he walked in, closing the door behind him to give them a moment of privacy.
“You fight… who taught you to fight like that? Was it one of your masters?” Djarin wasn’t looking at him and Luke cocked his head to the side, concern over the man’s state of being taking over him as the force swirled around him, reaching out to Luke and pulling him into his orbit. For a second, he almost followed it, but he had to hold back, because this could end up being something more than just a parent and teacher conference here.
“Master Yoda taught me, mostly – Obi-Wan taught me a little in the beginning, but I wasn’t able to work with him for long. In the end I’ve generally just taught myself, though I did get a small chance to work with Ahsoka for a short while,” Djarin still won’t look at him and Luke worries that perhaps he’d done something wrong – could it have been the knocking on his helmet? He really needed to read more about Mandalorians, he needed to stop skipping to the good parts on the Holocrons. He wasn’t a padawan anymore – though, he wasn’t really ever one long enough to really earn the title– he had been so much older than he should have been when he worked with Master Yoda.
“Luke,” this was the first time he’d called him by his name and a shock of electricity ran down Luke’s spine, making him focus as the soft, modulated voice that made his ears tingle and he swallowed, confused as to how just this man saying his name affected him, “will you train me to use the Darksaber? You’re the most skilled fighter I’ve ever met and the leader of my – of the Covert I was raised in was insurmountably skilled.” Luke has to temper himself from immediately saying yes and he pretends to contemplate it, realizing that this could be a dangerous thing, inviting this Mandalorian in, and deciding that he would need to mediate on it all later.
“Of course – perhaps we will have two Mandalorian Jedi,” he smiled then winked, unable to not tease the man, only to be grabbed by the biceps and pushed into the wall.
“Kriff, Skywalker,” Djarin was so close that if he wasn’t wearing his helmet his hot breath would be mixing with Luke’s own, “you can’t just… tease me like that.” The man admirably ground out as his force signature grew hot and heavy and Luke felt a blush rising up his neck.
“Why not? I enjoy it,” Luke smirked and the Mandalorian’s sigh was so defeated that Luke couldn’t help but chuckle.
“Are you laughing at my pain?”
“Only a little.”
“Are all Jedi ridiculous?”
“Well, considering I am the last Jedi, then yes, we are all ridiculous.” Djarin laughed at that, the modulation of it muffling most of the volume, but he clearly hadn’t expected Luke to snark back so quickly and the amusement and fondness Luke felt in the force mixed with his own. He laughed along with him, the two of them sharing in some secret joke that neither of them knew, but eventually they did quiet down and Djarin let go of Luke’s biceps to gently take his face in his hands. Luke blinked before he closed his eyes, dropping his chin just enough so that Din’s helmet could meet his forehead, the two of them standing there, forehead to forehead and breathing before Luke felt Grogu tugging at their training bond.
“Grogu is ready to leave – are you ready?” Luke asked and the Mandalorian stilled before pulling away for a second, seemingly determining what Luke was saying as his general posture seemed to dictate. It didn’t help that Luke could cheat and just check on what he was feeling in the force, even though they were only really impressions, and Djarin went through a myriad of emotions before he lightly brought their foreheads together again and they stayed like that for too long once more.
“I’ll be following right behind you…. Prince Amidala,” he was teasing him.
“Good to know, Mand’alor,” two could play at that game and Luke grinned victoriously as Djarin pulled back and then shook his head, chuckling before leaving Luke to pack his meager belongings to leave. He let Grogu travel with Djarin this time and, when he arrived home, the two of them landed together and walked to the finished hut where they would all live – for now at least.
“Djarin,” Luke offered the man some caf after brewing it up, having finally found where he’d set up the few items he’d brought along with him, and the man took it, pausing for a moment before setting the cup down, resting it on the ground and raising his hands, his thumbs hooking under his helmet and the hiss of the pressure release following. Luke startled, not expecting the man to take it off and he feels a rush of blood to his head as Djarin raises his helmet up over his head, settling it beside him and staring down at the ground.
“Grogu told me you weren’t supposed to take that off in front of—”
“I’m no longer a part of my covert…. I am no longer Mandalorian in their eyes,” he explains and Luke frowns, feeling the sorrow seeping out of Djarin like a sieve, his own part of the force swirling with anger for a second before he let it go, “I removed my helmet to save Grogu and then to say goodbye to him. I fought my vod, Paz Vizsla, for the Darksaber and kept it even though I do not think I will ever be able to rule Mandalore – and I’m not sure I’d ever want to. I am… I don’t know what I am.”
“Djarin—”
“My name is Din. Din Djarin.” Luke paused, the name of the Mandalorian in front of him a gift, as he didn’t seem to offer it to much of anyone, and he felt nothing but empathy for the man who seemed to think he was losing everything that he was made up of. The only balm he had right now was the fact that Luke would allow him to see his child.
“Din,” he starts and the man looks up at him, his dark eyes shining with what could perhaps just be a trick of the light instead of unshed tears, “You are still a Mandalorian.”
“I—”
“You are still a Mandalorian. They do not get to tell you that you aren’t – not those who fought under or are derived from the Deathwatch that was run by a Sith,” Luke stated resolutely and Din blinked, seemingly shocked, “you are not the type of man to stay with those that zealously choose who a Mandalorian is or isn’t – you are your own man. You chose to save Grogu, you chose to take care of him, and you chose to release him into my care so he could train. You know what you want, Din Djarin, and you know who you are. You are a Mandalorian and you are the Mand’alor – you get to decide, now, who is part of your tribe and who you believe embodies a Mandalorian.” He could hear the frogs as his words hung in the air and the bamboo rattled again, just like it had when the pivotal moment for Grogu came about. This time, though, the air didn’t weigh with a heavy choice, instead it was light with the bright feeling of hope and Luke drank it in, his chest rising and falling in a focused way of breathing as he sent as much comfort and calm through the force to Din that he could.
“Luke Skywalker?” Din asked and Luke smiled, nodding for him to continue.
“I believe you embody the spirt of a Jedi…. and a Mandalorian,” Din says plainly and Luke’s eyes widen a fraction before he dips his chin to look at the cup of caf between them cooling, his lips quirking up at the edges as he holds back a full-on grin, then he raises his gaze to see Din watching him, his eyes and facial expressions betraying him. He wondered how long it had been since someone saw the man’s face and if he realized that his emotions bore themselves openly when it was revealed.
“Din Djarin, are you offering to train me as a Mandalorian?” Luke finally does smile, his dimples showing, and the look on the man’s face is worth the teasing.
“I would train you with Grogu – though I do believe you are going to be a little more advanced than he will be, for now,” Din states plainly and Luke grins wider.
“Well then, I will train as a Mandalorian and then I will train you to be the wielder of the Darksaber,” Luke purposed and his heart skipped a beat when the man smiled.
It was entirely unfair that Grogu was still a child in his species and that he was not subject to Mandalorian training and trials as intensely as Luke was, but Luke wasn’t mad about it, and he enjoyed the rigorous routine that he and Din shared as they taught each other, every day sparring and meditating and going through routines. They always took one day off to rest, though it wasn’t always a set day as there were times that they were beyond exhausted or Din would need to take off and do some work, which he didn’t really tell Luke about and Luke didn’t ask. During those times it was just Luke and Grogu and he trained him all day long, but when Din was back they all took a day off and Luke would meditate while Grogu and Din spent time together, the Mandalorian much more comfortable with his helmet off now and even sometimes leaving a weapon or two at the hut Luke had built for him while the father and son duo were out and about. Today, though, Luke felt the force shudder and he looked out into the distance to see Din, Ahsoka, and the Mandalorian Bo-Katan. He felt Ahsoka send a wave of ease to him and he calmed himself as Grogu happily cooed, already taking off as he jumped and flipped his way down the hill excitedly, Luke laughing delightedly while getting up and following him down the hill at a more leisurely pace. When they met in front of the huts Luke noted that the Mandalorian woman didn’t look as angry as she had on the ship, in fact, she looked relatively pleased and he glanced to Din’s hip to see that the Darksaber still hung there before looking back to her and meeting her gaze.
“Jedi Master Luke Skywalker, I wanted to meet you officially – I am Bo-Katan, I knew of your father Anakin Skywalker through his Master Obi-Wan Kenobi and through Ahsoka,” she was official, formal, and oddly seemed to be glad to see him.
“I’m very glad to meet you, I hope you have been successful in your endeavors to reunite Mandalorians and retake Mandalore. If you ever need assistance I would be happy to—”
“Pardon for the interruption, Master Jedi, but you have provided more than enough assistance, I could not ask for more. Training our Mand’alor in the ways of combat with the Darksaber and teaching him about Mandalorian history has been more than enough,” Bo-Katan says and she bows her head to him just a little, which he returns with a serene smile.
“I am more than happy to help Din with his training, as he has worked with me on my own fighting skills. It’s much better to have a sparring partner than to fight against air and bamboo – Ahsoka refuses to fight me anymore and it’s a great source of pain for me,” Luke teases and he sees Ahsoka’s bright smile stretch across her face.
“Just like him, I swear,” she teases and he grins at her fondly before looking to Bo-Katan again.
“Bo-Katan would like to assist in your training as a Mandalorian,” Din speaks up and Luke blinks, having purposefully edged around mentioning that training to her, and he looks to Din who takes his helmet off and gives Luke a small smile, “she believes you are a great fighter as well.”
“Great isn’t really the word for it – you killed at least thirty Dark Troopers in a matter of minutes,” Bo-Katan says plainly and Ahsoka snorts, but pretends it’s a cough, covering her mouth as she faked it a little too much.
“I would be honored,” Luke says, smiling and bowing his head again before looking to little Grogu whose gaze found his, “as would Grogu. He would like to be a Mandalorian as well and believes his buir is spending all his time training his teacher.” Looking up he expected to meet Din’s gaze but the man was looking down at Grogu as though the child was a traitor and his cheeks were red with a blush that made him just as handsome as always. He turned his gaze to Bo-Katan who was smirking and had raised an eyebrow at Grogu before giving him a firm nod that he cooed about.
“Of course,” Bo-Katan states, “I do have one request, though… and I hope you will consider this.”
“Please, ask away – I can sense that you are in dire need of help.” She seemed to pause at his words, a look of wonder about her for a second before she swallowed.
“We have a small group of Mandalorian foundlings who need shelter – I know it’s a lot to ask, but this planet is the most peaceful one the Mand’alor has come across and they need time to grow up and learn to live and fight as a Mandalorian—”
“They can live here as long as they need to, as can you and anyone else that wouldn’t mind living side by side with a Jedi – and a Padawan,” Luke says, looking down to Grogu and giving him a wink, “Din informed me that you were using an Imperial Cruiser as your ship, though, and I’d appreciate it not being anywhere near this planet. The only person in the New Republic that knows where this school is, that knows where I am, is my twin sister – and she will drag me halfway across the Galaxy to explain why I happen to have one parked nearby.” He states and he swore, for a moment, Bo-Katan almost laughed.
“I have a way to transport those you need to without using it, if you would like to bring a fair share of people,” Luke offered, “and he’ll do it as long as everyone involved promises to not bathe him in carbonite and sell him to a Hutt.” At that Artoo beeped, laughing at both what he said and insulting Han at the same time.
“Of course, he can avoid detection, he made the Kessel Run in less than twelve parsecs,” Luke smirked at the droid and Artoo beeped at him, rocking back and forth and complaining, “language, Artoo, there is a child present.” Luke chides him mildly and there were a few more sassy beeps before the droid simmered down and let them talk.
“That sounds like an interesting story,” Bo-Katan states and Luke grins.
“Oh, you have no idea.”
“So, you’re going to become the Mand’alor?” Luke was already sitting on his bedroll, stripped down to an undershirt and pants after taking his boots off, the pair sitting at the end of what he had for a bed. Honestly, he would need to make better accommodations as more Mandalorians arrived, but he had given everything to the others and left none for himself.
“Bo-Katan believes I can be and I’ve asked her to be my chief advisor, which she has accepted. Boba will be part of my council, but not officially – I don’t believe the New Republic would appreciate a Daimyo on Tatooine having sway on a Mandalorian council. That wouldn’t look that great for our neutrality,” he states and Luke grins, dropping his chin and shaking his head as he closed his eyes and released the dread in his heart into the force. Din would leave soon enough, once his people were ready, and he would retake Mandalore with the force of quite a few Mandalorians. It would be very quiet when they were all gone and he would miss many of them, the foundlings being high up on that list as they were the first to trust Luke and accept him. The adult Mandalorians seemed to overnight change their tune about him, one day mistrustful and standoffish and the next seeming to appreciate and welcome him. He hoped Din hadn’t threatened them too much.
“Then you’ll be leaving soon,” Luke states, knowing it to be true as it rang that way in the force.
“I will, but I’ll be back – often,” Din states and Luke raises a brow, “you know how intense Bo-Katan can be. I’ll need breaks.” Luke laughs at that, the feeling bubbling in his chest even though part of him tore itself asunder. He had, indeed, grown attached to this Mandalorian, but when he spoke with Ahsoka she agreed that it was not so unspeakable – Din had passed her test of being able to let go of his attachment to Grogu and she believed he could do the same for Luke if need be. Luke had let go of attachment before and could handle himself – at least, he was much better at if after Darth Vader took his hand. He really had to get over that – he did get even with his father, after all – which was very un-Jedi like of him.
“Of course, Grogu will be happy to see you as always – and so will I,” Luke admits softly, their eyes meeting as he let the potential loss of someone he was growing to love seep from him like blood from a wound, the force mollifying him by oddly sending him warmth back.
“You know, Grogu showed me that you feel things in the force – emotions,” Din states and Luke arches an eyebrow, “and I’ve been trying to find a way to ‘tell’ him or ‘give’ him an emotional response or information, I guess you could say. So, we’ve been practicing.” Din states and Luke perks up a little more, excitement moving through him like lightning – which was a bad metaphor for himself, but only he would know – and he leans forward, hoping that Din had been able to figure it out. Just as he was about to ask for him to try with him an overabundance of fondness, warmth, respect, admiration, and love poured out of Din Djarin like a river and Luke’s vision swam for a second, realizing instantly that he’d lost his breath and made himself breathe quickly enough that Din didn’t worry.
“Oh….Din,” Luke couldn’t really process at first but when he finally calmed his breathing he watched as the Mandalorian opened his eyes, as he had closed them to focus, and seemed to wait – a spike of worry shivering through the air, “Oh… Din,” Luke can’t summon up words, but he can move – and he does so, pushing himself off the wall at his back and nearly stumbling forward, Din meeting him halfway and the man pulling him into his embrace.
“I could never figure out the right time to show you – but I… I had to, Luke,” Din speaks low and it makes Luke shiver.
“I’m glad you did,” Luke’s voice is softer than usual and he can’t summon the strength to even try and sound his usual self, “let me show you how it feels on my end.” Luke straightened up and closed his eyes, Din doing the same, as if getting ready to receive the same treatment through the force, but Luke only smirked and used both his hands to cup Din’s cheeks and pull him to him, kissing him as he sent love, respect, hope, warmth, kindness, need, fondness, admiration – everything through the force to him. When Din responded back in full, Luke could feel the force around them swirl and then suddenly calm, as if a puzzle piece had clicked into place, and Luke smiled into their kiss.
Luke’s heart beat for Din. The force balanced. Leia was going to kill him and Han would never let him live it down.
“You are far wiser than I was at your age,” Luke’s breath caught in his throat as his father’s voice, Anakin’s voice, rang clear – as if he were alive and sitting right next to him—
Luke’s heart stalled, the world stilled, and a pair of black boots sunk beneath the surface of the river, a long dark cloak’s hem landing behind them and Luke dared not to look up for fear that it wouldn’t be who he hoped it was. The figure ignored his fears and settled down right next to him, their shoulders touching, and Luke could feel the warmth of him brushing against him. Anakin Skywalker was a sight taller than Luke and it was actually a wonder how both Luke and Leia had not managed to be gargantuan, excepting that Padme Amidala was extremely small in comparison. So, really, he and Leia just evened it all out.
“How is that?” Luke questioned, still nervous to look to his right as he sat upon the log that crossed the river just low enough you could dip your feet into the waters below.
“You love the Mandalorian, but you let him go and have confidence in him – you worry about him, but you don’t let that blind you to the world around you. I let my fear for your mother and you and your sister blind me and I took the hand of Darth Sidious when I should have taken your mother’s and Obi-Wan’s,” he states and Luke can hear the heartbreak in his voice, the force pulling it out of his father and feeding it into Luke before returning it back in a loop.
“It was a confusing time and you were manipulated – though you still did things that can never truly be forgiven, I do not believe you were in your right mind during that time either. I wouldn’t call it foolishness, but I would call it arrogance,” Luke states plainly.
“You’re right about that. My arrogance blinded me to the Emperor’s dark intention and powers, believing that I could fix the future and control what happened. I fell to the dark because of my inability to stop and examine what was happening around me, what I was doing and why I was doing it. I fell and your mother died giving birth to the two of you, with only Obi-Wan to comfort her. I will have to release that pain and guilt into the force for as long as I continue to exist in this form,” he states and Luke finally turns his head, seeing the golden curls of his father and the unscarred side of his face, the youth of him astounding to see while remembering the scarred, broken man beneath Darth Vader’s mask.
“You can’t control the past, nor the future, and I know you’ve stayed away because you worry about Grogu seeing you after what you have done, but he knows that you’re here – he does not judge you, even though he remembers you. He has the forgiveness of a child still, though he has been afraid and will still be for a long time,” Luke states and he raises a hesitant hand, lifting it to put it on his father’s shoulder, which was shockingly solid underneath the leather.
“I can only hold this form for so long, but I’m here, Luke – and I will always be with you in the force,” his father turned his head, his face so familiar and yet not, though it was much like the one he saw in the reflection of the pond when he looked upon himself. Smiling as tears welled in his eyes, Luke twisted and pulled his father into a hug, one that could only last for mere seconds, but his father held him and the warmth that he was provided for that short time was all he needed, “I will always be here.”
He was alone again, but he knew he was not.
“We are one when together, we are one when parted. We share all. We will raise warriors,” Luke spoke to himself quietly, swallowing before taking a deep breath in and letting himself calm as he waited for Din by the tree atop the hill, the one he usually trained Grogu at, and then he let go his nervous energy, “Mhi solus tome, mhi solus dar'tome, mhi me'dinui an, mhi ba'juri verde.” He practices in Mandoa, knowing his pronunciation wasn’t the best, but that he had been practicing and wasn’t sure he could do the Mandoa correctly, so he was memorizing it in basic as well. Well, up until he suddenly felt that beautiful feeling in the force – but it was right behind him.
“Have you been practicing Mandoa?” Din had snuck up on him, that wasn’t very Jedi Master of him.
“Perhaps,” Luke turned around, serene and calm, trying not to be embarrassed.
“Were you practicing… marriage vows?” He was hesitant, that could be either good or bad with Din, it was hard to say.
“I was,” his voice is strong, but he isn’t actually strong. Not right now.
“And who might this lucky Mandalorian be?” He was teasing now and Luke couldn’t help but smile, watching him as the Mandalorian lifted his helmet off his head, the hiss of it familiar now that he and Din had agreed that he was officially part of Din’s clan, though they weren’t married. That was usually the next step, but Din hadn’t asked and Luke wasn’t sure if he would ever.
“He’s the shiniest Mandalorian I’ve ever seen – but the saber he wields is as black as night,” Luke states, smiling as Din smiled, his chocolate eyes meeting Luke’s blue and he stepped closer to the Jedi, setting down the bag he had been carrying and he entered Luke’s personal space now. Luke could feel a brightness from him and Din was illuminated by light, glowing from the sunlight and the aura he seemed to be surrounded by. He was happy, no longer brooding like the first time he’d met him those many months ago, and it was good to see that bit of shine in his eyes and a slight smile to his lips. Luke also was happy he still had the mustache, it hadn’t been what one would expect of a Mandalorian, but he also had no idea what to expect from a Mandalorian in the first place.
“Hmm, well, that’s interesting… that sounds a lot like the Mand’alor,” Din states and he bends, setting his helmet down before standing upright and stepping just a little closer.
“It is, indeed, he’s the one I’ve got my eye on,” Luke teases, “you haven’t happened to have seen him? He’s taking forever to purpose to me, so I’m afraid I’m going to have to do it myself.”
“You’ve read my mind, my Jedi,” Din grins and then steps forward again, closing the space between them and kissing him gently, his gloved finger curling under Luke’s chin to guide him to him before he pulled back and then turned, leaning down and digging through the bag before he pulled out a shining bright pauldron with the Mudhorn Clan crest on the shoulder, “I’ve had a few things made for you, my Luke.” His voice always made Luke shudder, especially when he lowered it even more, almost a whisper, and Luke took the offered piece of armor and turned it over in his hands carefully. It was beskar, which they’d uncovered in the mines that the Mandalorian’s had recovered he supposed, and it was expertly crafted.
“You are my Clan, Luke Skywalker, but there will be others who will try to make you theirs – your battle prowess, your way with children, and your beauty – they are all very attractive traits to Mandalorians. If I don’t lay claim to your heart now, I will have to fight every Mandalorian that tries,” Din speaks softly but determinedly, just the way Luke likes, and Luke leans forward, kissing Din and feeling light.
“Mhi solus tome,” Din whispered.
“Mhi solus tome,” Luke repeated, smiling.
“Mhi solus dar'tome,” Din’s smile, his eyes wet, his breath ghosting against Luke’s lips.
“Mhi solus dar'tome.”
“Mhi me'dinui an, mhi ba'juri verde,” he heard the hitch in Din’s breath and Luke repeated after him, barely able to get the last word out before Din kissed him, pulling him close so quickly they nearly stumbled back into the water puddles where Grogu’s frogs lived. Luke wasn’t surprised when Din picked him up, Din was stronger than most people, but he was surprised when he pivoted and pushed him up against the tree nearest them.
“My riduur,” Din smiled at him, voice reverent.
“My riduur,” Luke breathed and the force shuddered before going still.
Completely balanced.