A Touch of Humanity - Din Djarin x gn!reader
re-edited (Feb. 2023)
Read on AO3 - Masterlist
Part III: Naboo
Part I | Part II
summary: A sobering abruption, a few weighty decisions, and a wandering scamp who thinks with his stomach. What lengths will Din have to go to in order to secure a future for his family?
word count: 8.8k
tags/warnings: fluff, angst, canon typical violence, Din is the Father the holy trinity is talking about, co-parenting, Grogu is so good at playing a damsel in distress, gift giving is Din's love language, the helmet comes OFF (actually), I used canonical places and history until there was no more to go off of and then made up my own to flesh it out
“Sola,” you breathe.
The grip you have on Din’s wrist would leave a bruise if it weren’t for the protective layers. Din tenses up. He steps forward, half in front of you. It’s a moment where the beskar stops being just Din’s and becomes yours as well. A wall of beskar between you and the sign screaming DANGER. Grogu sinks lower into the pouch when he sees Din’s stance. The movement places him out of view.
“Y’know, I really never thought I’d see you off Naboo,” she teases and starts clapping, “Good on you.”
Your nostrils flare as humiliation tears through you. If you weren’t frozen, you’d run. Frankly, you aren’t sure if Din will take the opportunity to collect another bounty. You aren’t sure if you’d want to stop him.
“I see you’ve been busy too,” her eyes travel up the length of Din in a way that makes your blood feel like acid.
“What do you want, Sola?” you question, your voice finding footing so it comes out firm.
“Geez, not even a hello, how are you? I guess I should lead by example as the older sibling,” she sighs dramatically, “How are you, Polliwog?”
The old nickname sears your skin. Your grip on Din’s wrist tightens further.
“I’m fine,” you answer through grit teeth.
“Good, that’s good to hear,” she says pleasantly.
Sola waits expectantly, still swinging her legs casually. When you don’t return the question she rolls her eyes.
“How are you, Sola?” She does a bad impression of you, “I’m doing great, Polliwog. Thank you for asking.”
“What do you want?” You repeat more forcefully.
“Word around the galaxy is I have a nephew. I wanted to meet the little bugger.”
“Who told you that?” you ask.
Sola waves a dismissive hand at you.
“It’s a small galaxy. Not a lot of Mandalorians are walking around with a Grizmallti and a baby. So, where is the little womprat?”
“You’re not getting near him,” you snap before Din has the chance to.
“C’mon, Polliwog. I know some people who are very keen to meet him and they’d make us rich for the honor,” she says it like she’s dangling a carrot in front of you.
“You should go,” Din states firmly.
“Oh, nice, the shiny one does talk. Here’s the thing, Shiny, this doesn’t involve you. This is a family matter,” Sola tells him condescendingly like she’s speaking to a youngling.
“This is my family.”
Sola’s eyes widen and she sits up straighter. She takes a second to look between the two of you, a smirk crawling onto her face.
“Well, now, isn’t that interesting? Of all the things to crack beskar, I never thought it would be you, Polliwog. Not with how soft you’ve always been,” she muses.
“Stop calling me that,” you tell her, anger seeping into your voice.
The name makes you feel so small, so helpless. It makes you feel like a polliwog caught in the current of the Dee’ja Peak river, not strong enough to resist being swept away. You suppose that’s why she uses it. Sola has always been big on making you feel small. She frowns, pushing out her bottom lip.
“You’re not even a little happy to see me?”
You exhale sharply through your nose.
“It’s nice to see you aren’t dead, but no, I’m not happy to see you.”
Sola sucks her teeth, clearly growing bored of the conversation. She pushes herself off the crates and lands easily on her feet. Din towers over her, but she isn’t phased in the slightest. Sola knows better than anyone that size doesn’t matter in a fight, just how hard you hit.
Her hair is pulled back into two braided buns on the back of her head, her clothes are tactical, and there’s a scar you didn’t notice when she was up on the crates. The scar is a few shades darker than the rest of her face but was clearly once a deep wound. It travels along the right side of her jaw, curving up around the corner of her mouth, and across her nose before tapering off under her left eye.
“Mind movin’ for me, Shiny?” she asks with a sweet smile, but her cold eyes stay on you.
“Yes, I do,” Din answers, voice ice under the twin Tatooine suns.
Sola’s eyes shift to Din, but only her eyes move. She arches an eyebrow and gives him another look up and down. Din knows she’s sizing him up, trying to decide if a fight with him is worth it. He flexes his hand on his blaster in a warning. The corner of Sola’s mouth quirks up. Din moves his head sideways to look over his shoulder.
“Go back to the Crest,” he tells you.
“What? I’m not let-”
“There are more important things to worry about than pride right now. Please, just go back to the Crest.”
You feel Grogu shift on your back and your stomach drops. You know what Din is asking of you. Go to the Crest, close the door, and protect the kid. As much as you didn’t want to leave him, he’s right. You need to worry about keeping Grogu safe. You need to trust Din to handle it like he always does. It’s Sola you don’t trust.
“Okay,” you agree quietly.
Sola sighs loudly.
“You know I can’t let you do that, Polliwog. We’ve been through this before, haven’t we? Just like when we were kids, give me what I want. You know I’ll take it anyway,” she looks at her nails bored as she speaks.
You start seeing red. Rage trembles through your bones. Not only is she calling Grogu it, but she’s also comparing taking him to sell to taking your toys as children.
“He’s not an object, Sola,” you seeth, “he’s a kid.”
“He’s worth a shit ton of money.”
Din has had enough. He whips his blaster out of its holster and aims at Sola’s chest.
“So are you. Looks like we’re at an impasse,” he says cooly.
Sola makes a round pop with her tongue on the roof of her mouth and takes a step back. There’s still a smirk on her face. It’s infuriating how when she doesn’t look bored she looks amused.
“Alright, this just got interesting. What are they offering you for me?” She jerks her chin up at Din as she asks.
“More than you’re worth.”
“Awe, he thinks he can hurt me. Cute. I’ll double it to forget you saw me.”
“You could triple it and I would bring you in for free,” Din angles his head down menacingly.
“Gotta say, I like this one, Polliwog. I figured you’d end up with someone more… cutesy, more your speed. A little hypocritical when you think of the talks you’ve given me, but I’m willing to let that go,” Sola smiles mischievously.
She’s trying to get in your head. You know that, but it’s still working. The rage cools into embarrassment. Heat floods your cheeks.
“You’re talking to me now,” Din asserts.
“Please, you’re not going to do anything to me for two reasons. One, I came unarmed. Sure, you’re a bounty hunter, but are you really a murderer? Two, Polliwog wouldn’t be able to look at you after watching that. Something tells me that would bother you,” Sola is patronizing but absolutely correct.
“How do you know I won’t kill you and collect the bounty now that I know you’re unarmed?” Din challenges.
“You Mandalorians tend to be pretty rigid on honor codes,” she shrugs with a smirk, “and I like to gamble.”
“So, what? You just came by to see if you could talk me into giving you a child to sell?” you demand incredulously.
Sola shrugs again carelessly.
“More or less. Believe it or not, I don’t actually want to hurt you. I figured I’d give you a fair warning.”
“A fair warning?” you furrow your brows.
“Yeah, if you don’t want to cooperate now when I’m asking nicely… Well, when I come to collect later I won’t be as nice,” Sola sounds like she’s deriving some sick pleasure from this.
“If you come back later, neither will I,” Din warns.
“Cute. You two are cute,” she seems to decide out loud.
With a smile, she stalks off into Mos Eisley. It takes Din’s firm grasp on your upper arms to make you realize you’re shaking. His gloved thumbs rub against your arms soothingly.
“I won’t let her touch you,” he promises.
You manage a weak smile. Din hates seeing the light of your face so dim. Like the flame responsible is close to flickering out.
“We should check on Peli,” you whisper.
Din nods, but he refuses to stop touching you. He takes hold of your hand and the two of you go find Peli snoring on a tattered couch.
***
“Din,” your voice is soft in the silence of the cockpit.
“Yes?”
“I… I think I want to go home.”
Din swears the floor of the Crest gives out beneath him. He swears he’s hurdling aimlessly through space with no hope of being found.
“Can I ask why?” He’s quiet. The words are only audible due to the sheer will to be heard.
“Sola found us because of me,” you say a half-truth.
You don’t want to tell him that you fear she’s right. That you’re too soft for Din. That you’re better off with someone more your speed. What if he realizes that you aren’t enough, that he needs someone more like Sola to keep up with him? Maybe not exactly like Sola, but similar enough.
“She would have found us either way,” he tells you.
“Din… let’s be honest with ourselves. I’m not made for all this. The one thing Sola was right about is that I don’t fit this. I don’t…,” you trail off.
I don’t fit you sits on the tip of your tongue. Din clicks on the autopilot. He crouches in front of you in the already cramped space. Grogu is asleep in his hammock, safe for another day.
“Nothing Sola said was right,” he insists.
You stare into the not-so-empty black of his visor and wish you were seeing brown. You wish you knew what kind of brown.
“I can’t keep up with you, with this lifestyle. I’ll only slow you down,” you poke another hole in his attempt to comfort you.
Seeing Sola always makes you spiral. Seeing her with Din and having her comment on your relationship with him is a special kind of spiral. The kind that feels too true. Din’s gloved hands cradle your face. It’s not quite the same as his bare hands, but it’s still undoubtedly him.
“Then I’ll slow down. I’ll come to a complete stop if I have to. Whatever you need from me I’m prepared to give you,” the words come out half pleading and soft.
You blink away tears. It takes extreme effort not to fall apart in his hands. When has anyone ever offered you so much? How could you accept so much? How could you not?
“Would you stay in Dee’ja Peak with me?”
“I would stay anywhere as long as it’s with you.”
With a quivering lip, you throw your arms around Din. The beskar is a strangely comforting feeling. The cold nip grounds you, and anchors you to him. His arms are sure this time. They wrap around your back and hold you against him firmly. You pull back to be able to look at his face. The face of his helmet which you know by sight, but also the face you know by touch that resides underneath.
“What will we do about Sola?” you ask.
“I’m not interested in the bounty on her head anymore. I understand the complexities of the situation, but if it comes down to her or Grogu-”
“Pick Grogu,” you say without missing a beat.
Din pauses in surprise. He expected you to be on the same page, but that he would still have to coax it out of you a bit. He nods in agreement.
“You’ll still be able to look at me if it comes to that?”
You place a hand on his beskar cheek. The smile that crawls onto your lips is proof the flame is gaining new life. It warms him inside out.
“I’ll always be able to look at you. You’re not the only one who understands the complexities of the situation. I just want Grogu safe. I don’t care what the cost is,” you tell him with all the tenderness you can muster.
The emotion that floods Din’s entire being is new and intense, but familiar and good. It feels like taking his helmet off after a long day and enjoying the air on his face. A rush of adrenaline mingled in with the high of joy. Something so similar to what he feels for Grogu, but yet worlds apart. That thought slides it all into place and Din knows. He knows he’s fallen completely in love with you. It overwhelms him until he can’t take it anymore, until he has only a single shred of self-restraint left that threatens to snap.
“Close your eyes, keep them shut until I say,” he gives the orders gently.
You do as he says. The hiss of his helmet being released is sharp in the quiet of the cockpit. You don’t feel his hands, so you assume the helmet is still in them. Din presses a deep, affectionate kiss to your lips. A thrill shoots down your spine and explodes into a million butterflies in your stomach. Too soon, he’s gone and you hear the click of his helmet fastening.
“You can open your eyes.”
Your eyes flutter open. The beskar is there like it was never gone. The ache for him still on your lips tells you otherwise.
“I really like doing that,” you chuckle lightly.
“Me too.”
***
Returning home after traversing the galaxy with Din makes everything look different. Dee’ja Peak feels like a completely different place. It occurs to you as you walk through the town to get to your house that, perhaps, it’s you that’s changed. You left here a lone traveler hitching a ride with the fearsome Mandalorian. You’re returning as someone who is loved, as a parent, and as a family.
Once someone spots you and calls out your name, you get swarmed by fellow Grizmallti. Hugs, kisses on the cheeks, and happy cheers get passed around. Din watches fondly with Grogu in the pouch on his front. Gus sees Din off to the side and approaches him. He sticks his hand out gruffly. Din stares for a moment before taking it in a firm handshake.
“I wasn’t sure of you when you started showing up and leaving the kid. I heard you were after Sola… wasn’t sure what you were getting at. You kept’em safe, though. Brought’em home. You have the respect of Dee’ja Peak for that,” Gus nods curtly.
“This was never about Sola,” Din tells him evenly.
Gus seems to size him up before deciding to believe him. Another curt nod to confirm it to himself.
“Good. That’s good. Thank you. I’ve been looking after’em since those two were younglings. Sola… I don’t know what happened. It was like something just went bad in her. It only got worse after their parents passed,” Gus sighs, “What I’m trying to get at is- I’m happy to know there’s someone else looking after’em too.”
Din nods, pride swelling his chest. He likes that it’s known that he protects you. That he watches out and keeps you safe. He likes that someone could look at the two of you and know you’re with him.
“I’m happy to.”
A hint of a smile appears on Gus’s face. He slaps a hand down on Din’s pauldron in a gesture of camaraderie, of acceptance into something larger than himself that won’t take so much from him. Then Gus is stepping away to rejoin the crowd welcoming you home.
You eventually make your way through everyone. Your house looms over you and anxiety strikes your heart. Din may think he’s okay staying, but what if that changes once he does? What if your house never feels like home again? What if Dee’ja Peak or Nabu never feels like home again?
“You’re worrying again,” Din comments from behind you after a beat of standing in silence.
You breathe out a laugh and turn around.
“I haven’t even said anything,” you point out.
“You don’t have to.”
It’s a humbling sentence. You don’t always have to speak. Sometimes your body does that for you. When your words fail, Din can still read you enough to know something is up. Feeling so deeply known is a luxury you have never had the privilege of experiencing before. Now that you have, you never want to go back.
“Are you sure this will be enough for you?”
Din can hear the unspoken question. Are you sure I will be enough for you?
“I know it will be because it already is.”
A trembling smile makes its way across your face. His words give you the strength you need to unlock the door and enter. Everything is exactly as you left it. Just a little dustier, but otherwise the same. Grogu coos happily as Din puts him down and takes off to cause a ruckus. It feels right coming home with them. It feels like it’s how it always should have been.
“I’m gonna throw my stuff in my room, maybe get changed,” you tell Din.
He nods and watches you disappear beyond your door. It’s a split-second decision that took weeks upon weeks of agonizing over. His heart is pounding so hard he’s surprised there isn’t a metallic sound from it hitting the beskar of his chest plate. He sits on one of the comfy cushy seats he’s secretly missed. Grogu comes around the seat with a cookie. Din chuckles and shakes his head.
“I don’t want to know where you got that from.”
He takes a steadying breath. Then the hiss of his helmet release and Grogu’s excited gurgling fill the room. Din places his helmet carefully on the ground beside him. Grogu reaches up for him and Din takes him into his lap. A little three-fingered hand meets his cheek gently, ears perking up. Din smiles softly at him.
“Oh, do you-” your voice stops abruptly.
Din freezes for a moment, a hot spike of self-doubt driving through his gut. He hears your shaky breath and can’t take it anymore. Din turns to you, eyes wide and nervous. You stand just outside your bedroom door in a new set of clothes. Your fingers barely cover your mouth as you process the shock of what you’re seeing.
It’s an agonizing five seconds of nothing. Of you taking each other in. Then you move forward slowly. You’re completely captivated by every feature. His eyes are the kind of brown that makes you think of soil and the life that springs from it. They send you feelings of hope for the future. As you thought, his facial hair is short, more of a stubble. His nose slopes downward in the most endearing way. Then there are his lips. His lips that you’ve felt on yours, but have never seen. Now you can appreciate the gentle bow of them, the way they part slightly as he watches you.
“Din?” you ask breathlessly, stopping halfway between him and your bedroom.
It’s a stupid question. Of course, it’s Din. Yet, you couldn’t get anything else out of your mouth. He nods at you, eyes still holding all his anxiousness. His face shows you everything he’s feeling. The hope, the nerves, the adoration, and the determination. You stand in limbo, wanting so badly to touch him, but not wanting to move too fast. Din watches, starving for your touch.
“Your helmet is off,” you state slowly.
“Yes, it is,” he answers with a little quirk of his lips.
Seeing his mouth move and hearing his voice come out of it doesn’t feel real. It feels like peering through the looking glass into your dreams.
“Why? You didn’t have to- Maker, did you feel like you had to becau-”
“I didn’t feel like I had to do anything. I did what I wanted to. What I’ve been wanting to do,” he assures you.
That voice washes over you, easing every tense muscle. You finally finish closing the space between you. He angles his head to look up at you and it hits you. This man, this face, this beautiful example of a human has been the one caring for you, buying you gifts, and kissing you like you’re his last chance for air before suffocating.
You reach out an uncertain hand toward his face. When your fingers brush across his stubble, his eyes fall shut. Din just sits there and allows himself to revel not only in your touch but the fact that it’s accompanied by your eyes on his face.
You’re exploding on a molecular level. Every square inch of you is becoming something entirely new. It almost hurts how happy you are. Not because you’re looking at Din’s face precisely, but because he’s offering you every ounce of trust he has. He’s telling you through the simple act of looking you in the eye that he is wholly and completely comfortable with you. You’re his family. You’ve never doubted it since he said it, but it feels so much more official now.
“You’re beautiful,” you whisper.
Din’s face flushes, bringing a reddened tone to his tan stubbled cheeks. You smile at the sight.
“So are you,” he whispers back, matching your smile.
Grogu coos happily on Din’s lap. Both of you turn your smiles to him. He gazes up at you two with wide joyful eyes and ears perked up. You place a small kiss on the top of his head, causing him to close his eyes briefly when your lips meet his skin.
Before you get too far, Grogu places his hand on your cheek lightly. Then he looks to Din expectantly. Din lowers his face closer so Grogu can place his other hand on Din’s cheek. It’s a tender little moment of being connected to each other, of accepting each other. It’s Grogu’s way of telling you that he loves you both.
Once he’s satisfied that he got his message across, Grogu crawls down. That’s when you see the half a cookie in his hand that he has previously put down.
“Wait, where did he get that?” you ask.
“I don’t know.”
“Din, you let him eat a cookie that’s probably been sitting here for weeks?” you try to be stern, but you end up laughing.
“I’ve seen him eat much worse,” he shrugs.
This is the first time you see the expression he makes when he shrugs. His eyebrows go up a little and he gets a hint of a pout. Every expression he offers is a gift, but this one is especially endearing.
You ponder his words.
“Y’know, I have too,” you sigh.
You and Din watch Grogu. You watch him climb up the empty seat with the cookie in his mouth. Once he’s up there he settles in and continues munching. Crumbs are getting everywhere, but that’s something you can deal with later. You turn your head to talk to Din only to find his eyes already intently on you.
Din’s mouth captures yours in a soft kiss. He tugs on your arm to get you to come around the seat. Then he pulls you into his lap. The beskar is cold even through your clothes, but his mouth is so warm. You cradle his face as his arms circle around you. Breathing becomes a priority faster than you care to admit, causing you to pull back. Just like every other second you since stepping out of your room, you look into his eyes. Those unreal eyes are ready to nurture you, to care for you, and to remind you of that every day.
“I don’t know why I was ever worried that I’m too soft for you when you treat me so gently,” you mumble.
Din’s eyebrows furrow. It amazes you how expressive the face beneath that helmet has been this entire time. How many smiles has he returned? How many has he initiated?
“It’s why I love you,” he says it like it’s the one known fact of life.
Your breathing stops. Everything feels so hot. Sure, it’s not like you couldn’t guess, but it’s different hearing it. It’s different hearing it like it’s not even a question worth entertaining. The answer is etched in the bedrock of the oldest river on the oldest planet and has been since the beginning of time.
“You love me because I’m soft?” you keep your voice hushed as if being too loud will wake you up from this dream.
“I love you because you’re brave enough to be kind and caring in a galaxy that often isn’t. That often punishes those who are.”
Your eyes search his and find only honesty. A smile crawls upon your face. Again, he matches your smile with his own.
“I love you too, Din. Except I love you because you’re brave enough to be kind and caring after being raised in a culture that teaches you not to be.”
“You love me because I’m soft?” his smile grows amused.
“Yes, I do. You’re my soft,” you place a kiss on his forehead, “kind,” another on his nose, “caring,” and finally one on his lips, “beautiful man.”
Din looks at you like you handcrafted the universe. He’s never been described as any of those things. To hear them all coming from you is more than he ever let himself wish for.
“What were you asking when you came out here?” he asks, suddenly recalling how this started.
“Well, I was going to ask if you wanted to rotate beds until we figured something out, but… sleeping next to you sounds a lot nicer,” you say, a smirk curling on your lips.
“Yes, it does.”
***
Waking up in Din’s arms is something you’re sure will get you giddy every time. Especially when his eyes are already studying when you wake up. Your eyes flutter open and a loving smile grows on Din’s lips. How did you go this long without that smile?
The two of you spend the day cleaning to get rid of the dust and any old food. Din does so in only his flight suit, armor safe and sound in your now shared bedroom. It’s a slice of domesticity that provides you with a peak at what’s to come.
What’s to come is you and Din working in effortless tandem as if reading each other’s minds, stealing stares and little kisses in the process. Grogu wakes up somewhere during mid-morning. Din had secured his little hammock across your still-empty closet. It’s perfect for his current size, but you’re sure it’ll have to be upgraded as he grows.
After feeding him a breakfast of warm oats, you set Grogu up at the coffee table with paper and crayons. He’s able to make shapes now thanks to your expert training. The crayons fill his tiny fists so much that finer detail is impossible, but you can see your little budding artist coming out. It’s the most pleasant morning you can recall having.
There’s a rare moment when neither of you has eyes on Grogu. You’re on your knees cleaning out the last kitchen cabinet. When you take one of your regular glances at Din he’s doing the dishes from Grogu’s breakfast. Which means both of your backs have been to Grogu. The silence you register outside of the running water becomes head-pounding. No little noises, no paper crinkling, and no sound of crayons against a hard surface.
“Din, where’s Grogu?” you ask as you stand up and look into the empty living room.
Din looks over his shoulder at where you’re staring. The spot Grogu is supposed to be in is empty. You do your best to tamp down the panic that’s threatening to rip you apart. It’s no use, Din can see it on you right away.
“Has he gone back to sleep?” he asks calmly.
His anxiety shows in how he turns off the water, immediately turning around to scan the room. You go to the bedroom expecting to find him curled up on your unmade bed. Except, the bedroom is empty too. The look on your face when you come back out makes Din’s stomach drop to his feet.
“Din?” you whisper anxiously, looking at him with wide eyes for guidance.
Din kicks into full Mandalorian mode in a blink. His face is stern, shoulders squared, and posture stiff. Nothing like the loose relaxed man that was just doing dishes quietly beside you. This is a man on a mission.
“Check the bathroom,” he doesn’t really order you, but you do it as such.
“Din,” you call out, panic fully breaking through the thin barrier you built.
He’s there, over your shoulder before you can even finish his name. The mirror that extends from the wall is flush against it. The window above the sink is open and there are crumbs trailing over the windowsill. The toilet seat is down, which gives Grogu the perfect landing to climb onto. All of that is bad on its own, but the worst of it is on the glass pane of the window. Neat black letters are written across from the outside in marker. Nothing personal, Polliwog. You might be sick.
“Stay here,” Din does order you this time.
You follow him to the bedroom where he starts fastening all his armor to his body. Tears are quickly welling up in the corners of your eyes.
“I’m coming with you,” you tell him firmly.
He gives you desperately pleading eyes. He’s begging you not to make this harder, never once stopping armoring up.
“I need you to stay here,” he says, softer this time.
“And do what? Just wait, not knowing if you’re going to come back?” you demand, voice growing louder the more you grow anxious.
Once everything, but his helmet is on he walks up to you. Both heavy gloved hands find your upper arms.
“Mesh’la, I can’t be worried about you out there. Please, stay where I know you’re safe. We will be back.”
“Where are you even going? We don’t know where they went.”
“I’m going to follow the crumbs.”
You stare stubbornly into his eyes. The mixed emotions of fear, anger, desperation, and love you find there cause you to sigh.
“Okay, fine, but if you aren’t back in a few hours I’m coming after you,” you cross your arms as you compromise.
Din gives your arms a little squeeze. He leans in and presses a brief kiss to your lips before securing his helmet. You stare into his visor, now knowing the expressions that lie behind it.
“Please, come back, Din,” you plead softly, “I need you both to come back.”
“We will, I swear.”
You walk him to the front door. It feels eerily like all the times you said goodbye. A moment where nothing has changed. Nothing except for everything.
“I love you,” he says to you.
“I love you too.”
After a beat of taking each other in, he’s gone. You drop into the seat where Din sat last night and bury your face in your hands. An ugly sob breaks through. Although you know this is no one’s fault but Sola’s, guilt begins to creep in. Guilt, shame, and knee-buckling fear. The guilt of not watching Grogu better. The shame of Sola being your sister and therefore bringing them closer to her. Knee-buckling fear that you’ll never see one or both of them again.
You drag your hands down your face, wiping away fat tears. That’s when you catch sight of the colors on the last page Grogu had been coloring on. Gray, blue, and green. It would be an incomprehensible image to anyone else, but to you, it’s clear as day. A gray rounded smudge of color represents Din. A blue rounded smudge of color represents you and the Corellian silk he must intrinsically associate with you at this point. A smaller green smudge of color represents Grogu himself.
Although fear is still very much present, an overwhelming wave of emotion forces you up. There’s just no way you can sit here for hours. There’s no way you can sit here for another second without doing something. What can you do, though? You’re just a soft little Grizmallti from Dee’ja Peak armed with nothing but the need to protect your family. That self-deprecating thought gives you a light bulb above the head moment.
Pulling on your shoes as you go, you run outside. You sprint over to Gus’s and barrel in. He looks startled by the rough entrance but relaxes when he registers it’s you.
“What’s wrong?” he asks as he gets a good look at your face.
“She took my kid. Sola took my kid.”
***
The crumbs lead to the woods, which doesn’t really come as a surprise. Sola must have been seen going into these woods at some point for the rumor of her running off in there to have spread. The woods means Sola has the upper hand. She knows the terrain, the territory, and what lurks in the shadows. Din is at a substantial disadvantage, but it doesn’t really matter. He doesn’t hesitate following the crumbs into the sea of trees.
The crumbs die off pretty quickly once under the canopy of foliage. Luckily, Din can still make out Sola-sized footprints in the soft mossy ground. He finds some broken branches from where she’s stepped or passed through. Clearly, she’s confident enough to not bother even attempting to cover her tracks. Din keeps his blaster at the ready. This time, he won’t think twice about shooting whether she’s armed or not. A line has been crossed that can’t be uncrossed.
“Oh, I was hoping it would be you to follow me,” Sola’s perky voice echoes through the trees around him.
He stops walking to glance around. Visibility is low thanks to the sky being blotted out by leaves.
“Why is that?” he calls back, constantly looking in every direction, listening for any sign of where she is.
“Well, I should have the talk with you, right? About your intentions and all that good stuff,” her voice carries a teasing edge.
“My only intention right now is finally collecting that bounty,” he answers sharply.
“You’re a lively one, aren't’cha, Shiny?” she chuckles, voice sounding just a little further away.
She’s baiting him, trying to draw him deeper into the forest. It wouldn’t work normally, but Grogu is with her. Din can’t not follow. What he can do is try to piss her off enough to show herself.
“I will be compared to you when this is over,” he bites in response.
Sola’s laughter echoes around him.
“Oh, you’re funny. I like that in a man. Polliwog better be careful, I just might take you too,” she teases, “I know for a fact I’m more exciting.”
“Over my dead body.”
“That can be arranged,” she’s a little deeper in the woods now.
Din is getting an uneasy feeling in his gut. The sensation of eyes on the back of his neck sends a chill down his spine.
“So, do it then. Unless you’re scared,” Din challenges.
Sola lets out a dramatic sigh.
“Mm, that was a decent try, but I think I’ll wait for my friend to do the job for me,” she sneers.
“Your frien-” Din can’t finish the two-word question.
Something hard and heavy slams into his side, sending him flying into a tree. The tree lets out a CRACK as the bark splits where he impacts it. Din grunts and lifts his head to find a large set of teeth in front of him, sharp and dripping with saliva. The teeth belong to a creature Din has never seen before. It has two large hind legs, two shorter arms with razor-sharp claws, a nose like a bat, black eyes like a deep sea creature, and thin wiry fur sparsely covering splotchy skin.
Din uses the tree to help himself up as the creature breathes heavily at him, blinking vertical eyelids. He has one arm holding his torso, pretty sure there are at least a couple of broken ribs to take care of later. Hopefully. No, you promised. There will be a later, Din silently scolds himself. His other hand points his blaster at the creature.
“Sola, you’re taller than I remember,” Din grunts sarcastically at the thing.
“You haven’t even scratched the surface of what this forest has to offer,” Sola chuckles, sounding closer this time.
“I’d like to keep it that way,” he mutters to himself.
The creature lunges for Din again, but this time he’s able to throw himself out of the way. It slams its head into the tree, earning another CRACK. There’s a moment of silence, the creature stunned by the head blow. Then the tree lets out a groan.
Din takes the second he has to pull the trigger. The blaster hits the creature square in the back, but its hide is thicker than it looks. It just makes the thing roar angrily. The tree continues to groan. Din can hear Sola curse and pinpoints her in the tree that’s about to fall. He sees her moving fluidly through the branches like she’s done it a million times before. Right when she’s about to leap from the falling tree to the next, Din shoots her. The shot hits home on her thigh, causing her to fumble her landing.
She slips as her leg buckles from the pain, hissing. Then she’s hanging by her armpits fifteen feet off the ground. There’s a cloth bag hanging off her back that’s squirming. Din aims his blaster up at her head.
“Let him go,” he orders cooly.
“How much you offering for him?” she asks tauntingly, struggling to get herself up since she can’t swing her bad leg without crying out in pain.
Din must have hit bone. Good.
“Your life,” he spits.
“Not enough, gonna need more,” she grunts, attempting to use her full upper body strength on the branch that’s beginning to look precarious.
She must have only meant to hop onto and right off that branch because no way will it hold her weight long-term. Din opens his mouth to respond, but a low guttural growl stops him. He sighs and turns his attention back to the creature that’s recovered from its pained stupor. It readies itself to charge at him, but the tree is so close to falling. If Din can stall it, maybe he can trap it beneath the tree.
As it starts charging, Din begins firing his blaster at it. Each hit causes the creature’s footsteps to falter backward from the force. He’s too busy biding his time to hear the thud of Sola landing mostly on her uninjured leg. He doesn’t until the tree’s groaning finally becomes splintering as the tree falls forward, horizontal from Din’s current perspective. He’s waiting to let off one more blast, trying to time it to get most of the creature beneath the trunk. Right when he’s about to pull the trigger, white-hot pain shoots through his thigh.
His gaze snaps down as he grunts in pain. Sola has a knife buried to its hilt in the side of his thigh. She herself is on her stomach on the ground. Her leg is worse off from allowing herself to drop from the tree.
“Now we match,” she smirks, despite being in pain.
“Dank farrik,” Din hisses, pointing his blaster down at Sola.
The tree comes crashing down, missing the creature without Din’s final blaster shot. Its ferocious roar gains Din’s attention. He’s sure it’s over for all three of them. He’s sure Sola’s total disregard for her own life just doomed Grogu’s and his own. It’s a strange weightless feeling he’s experienced before, the certainty that he’s about to die. For once, it’s a feeling that wrenches his heart. It’s a feeling that leaves him distraught instead of numb acceptance.
The creature pounces, Sola is cackling from the forest floor behind him, and his last thought is the image of his little family together on that cushy seat at home.
Din’s eyes widen as the creature is knocked sideways when it’s only inches away. His gaze follows its limp body slide a few feet. What looks like a small harpoon is through its neck. In complete and utter confusion, he looks in the direction it came from, nearly dropping his blaster at what he finds.
A breath of relief rattles out when your eyes meet Din’s visor. You watch his shoulders drop in relief, his grip on his blaster going loose, and a tilt of his head that makes you think he’s on the verge of tears.
Gus is breathing heavily beside you, his giant crossbow lowered. Melda is at your flank with another harpoon in her hands, Luka at hers with a quiver of them. A family that usually only deals in credits and sharp words has come together to help fight for yours. Sola curses angrily when she sees the group. Din lets out a breath that sounds a lot like your name. Grogu can be heard gurgling as he struggles against the bag on Sola’s back.
Sola heaves herself up onto her heels, her hand flies up, and hits the knife sticking out of Din’s thigh. He drops to his knee with a pained groan, giving her the opportunity to take his blaster. Melda is quickly reloading Gus’s crossbow that he already has aimed at Sola. Sola has Din’s blaster aimed between your eyes but doesn’t pull the trigger. She sees Gus’s weapon pointed at her fully loaded.
“Let’s put an end to this, Sola,” you plead.
Din looks helplessly between the three of you. If Gus lets that harpoon go it’ll impale Grogu with Sola.
“Maker, why do you care so much about this thing?” she groans in irritation.
“That thing is a child- my child,” you snap back.
Din is soothed by your voice and awed by your words.
“Please, it’s just some little beast you picked up off the street,” Sola snaps back.
Your nostrils flare, fists clench, and you’re ready to take over Gus’s crossbow.
“Let. Him. Go,” you demand, voice lethal.
“You’ll have to kill me,” she taunts with a smile.
“Sola, don’t do this. Just let the youngling go and no one has to get any more hurt,” Gus calls to her.
She sends him a nasty glare.
“You got the credits to convince me, shopkeep,” she spits.
“I got the harpoon to,” he gives his weapon a little shake for emphasis.
“Funny, you think I care about a little thing like livin’,” she snickers.
You shake your head in horror. Whoever this is in front of you isn’t your sister. No, she stopped being your sister long ago. You just didn’t know how low she had sunk.
“How did you get like this, Sola?” you ask, heartbroken.
“I’ve always been like this, Polliwog. You were just too soft to see it.”
So much happens at once. There’s the sound of the blaster, a shout, a scuffle, and the blaster again. When you blink you’re looking up at the trees. You scrunch your eyebrows in confusion. As you start to sit up a whole bunch of people rush to your side forcing you back down. Everything feels slow and muted. You try to sit up again, a little annoyed, but gentle hands push you back down.
“What-”
“You need to stay down. Please, you need to stay down,” Din’s modulated voice tells you.
His voice makes everything snap into focus. The pain finally registers. You look down at your torso. Your side is bleeding where it’s searing in pain. It’s not a clean hit. It’s a nasty graze, but it’s bleeding profusely. Din is applying pressure with his gloved hands. You cry out as the pain takes over.
“I know, I know. The pain is temporary, I promise,” he assures you.
“Grogu,” you grunt out, trying to get up again.
“Stay down. He’s okay, he’s fine. We got him,” he tells you.
You stop trying to get up, allowing yourself to fully lay back.
“Sola?” you ask, but you have a feeling you know the answer.
“She’s… she’s gone.”
You just nod, numb to the grief. Luka helps to carry your weight once a tourniquet is tied around your torso. Gus has Din’s arm over his shoulder and Melda is holding Grogu. You reach your hand out to him when you see him. There’s a moment when he’s able to hold your finger and you smile at him.
“We’re gonna have a talk about leaving the house alone when we get home, young man,” you tell him tearfully.
You’re so relieved he’s okay. Din watches you take your hand back. He watches Grogu coo worriedly after you. He’s truly so relieved he could pass out. That could also be the blood loss.
“Don’t worry. Doc’s got bacta that’ll have you both healed up in a matter of hours,” Gus assures him.
Din nods, not having it in him to talk. The way out of the forest feels so much longer than it took to get in. Din understands why these woods are so dangerous, he hadn’t even known he’d gone this far. He’s just glad he’s on his way out with you and Grogu.
***
It’s been a week and it still hurts. You wish it didn’t. You feel guilty that it does. Sola kidnapped Grogu to sell him. She tried to kill Din. She tried to kill you. Yet, knowing she’s gone hurts.
When you fall quiet and gaze out the window, thinking a little too hard Din starts to worry. He worries you blame him for being behind the trigger. He worries you won’t be able to take being in the same space as him anymore. You assure him it’s the opposite on both fronts. Especially when he did it for no other reason than to protect you and Grogu. He never even collected the bounty on her.
“I’m sorry,” he whispers when you’re tangled up together at night.
“Don’t ever be sorry for saving us,” you whisper back earnestly.
Your hand caresses his cheek in the way you know he likes. Scratching his facial hair just enough for him to close his eyes in contentment. Once he eases enough you press a gentle kiss to his lips.
“I love you,” you tell him as you pull away.
“I love you too, mesh’la.”
***
Naboo is humid this time of year. It’s muggy, damp, moist, all the worst things to be when it’s so damn hot. It’s the type of boiling humidity that Din can feel creep across his skin under his armor. Yet, he wouldn’t want to be anywhere else.
You’re set up at your usual spot by the river. Except now, over a year later, you know what lies beyond it. Grogu basks happily in the sun on a little blanket beside you. You’re painting an army of frogs that are on the riverbank, some in mud and some in the sun.
Din watches from a distance for a minute. He’s coming back from Theed, the planet’s capital. It isn’t too often, but now and then he’ll take up work there. Nothing too bad. Mostly he finds people subverting the Naboo government, but it pays well. He’s always bringing you things, which you can’t complain about. If he’s gone overnight it’s never for long, never more than a few days. Then when he’s back, he stays attached to you. Some part of his skin is always touching yours.
“Good afternoon, mesh’la,” he says when he’s close enough.
You look over your shoulder with a large smile. Grogu perks up at Din’s voice as well.
“Din, I thought you’d be gone another day,” you get up to hug him.
He’s only been gone a day, but any time apart feels like forever. Without a thought, Din takes off his helmet. His smile is dazzling. He kisses your forehead, then your lips, before putting his helmet back on. It’s been like this for a few months now. He won’t keep it off for long, but he’s more comfortable taking off the helmet briefly in public. Whenever home, the helmet is retired to the bedroom. Din has found a happy middle ground between the Mandalorian he was and the Mandalorian he hopes to be.
“Got lucky with a lead and it led me home early,” he explains as he scoops Grogu up.
“Let me pack up and we can head home.”
“Have you had lunch?” he asks knowingly.
“Grogu has,” you smile innocently.
“I’ll make you those noodles you like.”
Your smile turns warm and gooey. He helps you carry your things with Grogu on his hip. You tell him what the two of you have been up to, how Gus brought dinner the night before just to have a reason to check in. Din goes to the bedroom to remove his armor. You give Grogu his crayons and the little sketchbook you bought him. Once he’s set up at the coffee table, Din reappears in only his flight suit.
“What’s that?” you ask when you notice him holding something in his closed fist.
“I found someone in Theed who knows how to work with beskar,” he tells you.
You study his nervous features and nod for him to continue. He holds out his empty right hand. You place your left one in his open palm curiously. The cold beskar bites your finger for a moment before your skin acclimates. When his hand is gone there’s a shiny beskar band around your fourth finger, a perfect fit. Your wide eyes shoot up to Din’s face.
“This way each of us carries beskar. Even when we’re apart it’s a way for us to always be together,” he says softly.
Tears well up as you stare at him. You cradle his face and smile at him adoringly.
“I love you so much,” you say with a breath.
“I love you so much,” Din echoes your words and your smile.
Your lips meet in a frenzy. Both of you are desperate to be as close to one another as possible. The feel of his skin, of his lips, will never get old. Every time it feels new, sending shocks and butterflies throughout your body. This time is no exception.
Grogu cooing at your feet causes you to pull apart. He peers up at the two of you and brandishes the paper in his little hand. You pick him up, accepting the paper. He still works in scribbles, but they’re more intelligible now. A messy gray circle for Din’s head, and another for his body. Then a smaller green circle for Grogu’s head and a brown one for his body. Finally, there’s you with a blue head and brown body. Beneath the three of you is green grass. Between you are more scribbles to connect the three of you.
“A beautiful family portrait,” you compliment lovingly.
“It’s very accurate. That looks just like us,” Din agrees with a soft smile.
“I think this one should go on the wall,” you decide.
Din nods in agreement. Grogu gurgles joyfully. You use tape to stick the drawing to the wall amongst a collection of others Grogu has made.
“We’re going to need a bigger wall soon,” Din notes.
“It’s not my fault all he makes are masterpieces,” you whine.
Din chuckles.
“No, it’s not, but maybe we should consider finding something with more space,” he suggests.
You give him a surprised smile.
“Like a bigger house?”
“Yes, like a bigger house,” he nods.
It’s a heart-racing idea. You’ve already been living together for more than a year really, when you account for the time on the Crest. This is another level of commitment, though. Din really wants to put down deep roots with you. He wants to secure his life here and it fills you to the brim with joy.
“I think that sounds like an excellent idea,” you agree.
Din takes you and Grogu into his arms. The three of you remain like that for a good while, a nesting doll of love. Din encases you encasing Grogu in a warm embrace. It feels like everything in the galaxy has come together just for this perfect moment to happen. This perfect moment for this perfect little family nestled in the Gallo Mountains of Nabu.
taglist: @a-rose-of-amber, @itzagoodthing
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