Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Luke sleeps for six days straight.

The first day is really more of a blur than a conscious memory, muddled by Din’s exhaustion and worry. Leia, Solo, and Chewbacca escort them from the big open meadow they landed on to a grand estate at the edges of a lake, where they are greeted by Shara, Kes, and a ridiculous number of medical personnel.

They take Luke from his arms with practiced efficiency but quickly give up on trying to address Din’s injuries, clued into his current mental state by how he nearly rips the arm off a medical droid that tries to touch his helmet. 

In lieu of being attended to, Din busies himself with having Luke checked over by doctors every half hour or so, his own worry only rivaled by the frantic beeping of Luke’s astromech which equally refuses to leave its master's side. For the better part of the day Din alternates between sitting at Luke’s bedside holding his hand and pacing up and down the makeshift medical bay, until one brave and tired nurse finally tells him in no unclear manner that Luke will be fine, that it's nothing more than exhaustion, and that he needs to rest now too, or she'll personally sedate him.

They are moved to a separate wing of the building after that, where they are promised to have privacy, so Din too can find some quiet, without having to worry about taking off his helmet for anyone but clan. He has no doubt Leia is to thank for the change of location, and it’s a gesture he very much appreciates, the same quiet respect Luke shows for his creed. 

Leia and Solo check in periodically the first night, but Grogu and Ben are glued to them more or less permanently, Grogu nestled in Din's arms as he keeps watch at Luke’s bedside, while Ben wraps himself around Luke like a blanket. Din wonders if they feel it, Luke's exhaustion, if this is their way of providing comfort, or if maybe they are just as exhausted themselves, if maybe, just maybe, Din's blankness provides some welcome relief. 

Either way, he leaves the armor on that night, blank nothingness against the brightest lights in the Force.

Leia gently pries him away from Luke’s side on the second day, coaxing him into letting her address his wounds with quiet persistence. 

In a brilliant attempt to distract him from the foreign sensation of having someone wash dried blood off his face, she catches him up on some of the things that happened in their absence: 

First, Din learns that they are not on Concordia or Yavin, but on Naboo. 

In fact, the bathroom, in which Din is currently shrugging his bruised limbs out of the padding of his armor, is part of Luke's aunt's estate. It’s a remnant of a time when their mother used to be queen, a fact Din decides to not dwell on for too long.

At Din’s obvious confusion about their choice of location, Leia lets out an exasperated huff and proceeds to tell him that apparently, Luke had pre-programmed their hyperspace route into the Mudhorn, fully aware he would not be there to make the impossible calculations out of the Outer Rim himself. Despite his own exasperation at the fact Din has to admit that it was quite a clever move, considering Luke could not have anticipated how much medical attention they would require. Doctors would have certainly been harder to come by on Concordia or Yavin.

The second thing she tells him, as they both try very hard not to acknowledge or mention the angry red lightning burns across his torso, is that they’ve been gone for a full week.

Which, honestly, Din thinks would probably have freaked him out if he didn’t just feel his mind meld with another being a mere twenty-four hours ago. As far as strange magic phenomena go he deems this one acceptable, as well as the fact that apparently, Grogu sensed their imminent arrival, which led to their timely pick-up.

And finally, Din learns that, after they failed to show up on Concordia for a full week, Boba came to look for them, guns blazing, and was only stopped from murdering Solo on sight by Grogu levitating both of them up into the air.

Leia paints that last story so vividly that, when he settles back at Luke’s side later, Din mostly forgets that he just sat more or less butt naked in front of his sister-in-law.

On the third day, after she seems confident enough that none of them is about to experience imminent death, Leia has to leave for the core worlds, unable to put it off any longer, her own battle waiting for her. 

Her efficient determination makes Din consider his own reluctance to leave the people he loves for something like the greater good, and he quietly decides that, Force or not, Leia might be the strongest being in this galaxy regardless.

That day Din also meets a man named Lando, who comes to pick Leia up as what he calls a ‘personal favor’. Din very quickly realizes that that is merely an excuse however and that the man’s true intention is to gloat at Solo’s encounter with Boba, a fact that immediately endears him to Din.

It’s on the fourth day, when Din has gotten comfortable enough to strip out of his armor in favor of sleeping besides Luke, that Solo is in front of their door, in the middle of the night, bleary-eyed, with a sniffling Ben clutched to his side. "He keeps asking for Luke," he says, exhaustion thick in his voice. "I can't get him to sleep."

Din just nods them in wordlessly and lets Ben settle beside his uncle, tiny hands wrapping around his torso like he did the first night they arrived. Solo just stands there for a moment, lost and unsure of what to do, until Din sighs and gently pushes him towards the bed too, so he can wrap himself around his son until they are both hanging on to Luke and finally drift off into an exhausted sleep.

Din sleeps in a chair on Luke's opposite side the first night, which, given his aching and bruised body, turns out to be quite a bad idea. It leaves him so uncomfortable and stiff in fact that, when Solo shows up at their door again on day five, they end up quietly arguing until Din finally relents and plops down on Luke's right.

Chewbacca shuffles in behind Solo on day six and Din has a short moment of panic where he realizes he is not wearing his helmet, but then he watches the Wookiee dutifully take up watch at their door, and Din quietly expands the definition of his clan by one. 

And so when Luke finally wakes up, held between his family, it's to Din kicking at Solo’s shins beneath the blankets in an attempt to finally get him to stop snoring, as Solo snores on, oblivious, one hand flapping over to hit Din square in the face.

It's domestic in a way that nothing in their lives ever was, and despite what they will admit later, none of them think they mind at all.

Din wakes to an empty bed.

It takes him a second, but he sluggishly remembers that he kicked out Solo in the morning after Luke woke up, Ben much more willing to leave his uncle's side now that he was more or less awake and coherent. In a sudden bout of camaraderie Solo had taken Grogu with them too, and both Luke and Din spent most of the day wrapped up into each other, drifting in and out of sleep, Luke only gradually coming awake, and Din finally relaxed enough to catch up on some much-needed sleep.

As he blinks awake now there is a short moment where panic threatens to rise in his chest, where he is reminded of all the times he woke to an empty bed before, all the times that Luke left, but before it can fester he feels a calm wash over him, soothing like warm sand under his feet. 

He knows the feeling instantly, as he feels Luke warm and steady at the back of his mind. When he rolls over to the other side of the bed he can see him standing out on the balcony, elbows resting on the balustrade, face raised towards the lake and the setting sun.

Din untangles himself from the sheets and walks up beside him slowly, bare feet on the cold stone floor, hovering for just a second to give Luke time to protest his presence. When he doesn’t Din takes the last few steps forward until he can rest his arms just beside Luke's, their shoulders gently brushing. 

“You ok?” he asks quietly and stretches his hand out between them, palm up.

“Yea,” Luke says and laces their fingers together on a long exhale. “Just thinking.”

Din feels like there are a thousand things he should be asking, a thousand things he should want to ask, now that they have some semblance of peace and quiet, but there isn’t really anything that comes to mind, all his thoughts zeroed in on how Luke’s palm feels against his. How he is right here beside him, close enough to touch.

And so there is only one thing that worms its way into his mind after a while, as the sun dips past the horizon, a thought that has been resting at the back of his mind since their rescue.

“When you said goodbye,” Din starts and hears Luke sigh beside him as if he knows what comes next. “Why did you stop me from taking off my helmet?”

Luke takes a long time to answer, and Din squeezes his hand while he waits, hoping to squash the feeling of guilt he can feel pass between them. It's a strange sensation still, feeling him like this, though not unwelcome.

“I’m sorry,” Luke says finally. “I should not have done that to you. I shouldn’t have taken that choice from you but--” he shakes his head slightly as if what he’s about to say next is still hard to admit, even now. “If I had seen your face I don’t think I would have been able to leave.”

Din lets that sit between them for a minute. He turns it over in his head, tries to see if there is any part of him that feels angry or hurt about it, but in the end, all he feels is quiet relief at having Luke here beside him now.

“Okay,” he says in the end and turns to the side so he can place a kiss on Luke’s hair before he leans their foreheads together with a smile. “Let’s make sure you’ll keep seeing my face then.”

Luke huffs out a small laugh, shaking his head against Din’s forehead lightly, and Din can practically feel him roll his eyes. There is something incredibly soft in the gesture, something so intimate in how he is allowed to tease Luke like that. 

And there it is again, this feeling in Din’s chest telling him to protect this.

Din leans back slightly, moves his hands up to frame Luke’s face and he suddenly feels his heart beating heavy in his chest, racing in a way it doesn’t even in a fight.

He knows he shouldn’t be nervous about this, they’ve done this before, but something feels different about it now. It’s as if this is somehow the first time he gets to hold Luke like this, and it feels significant in how casual it is, and Din wonders if that’s because this is not the heat of the moment, if it’s because neither of them is scared the other is about to leave.

"May I?" Din asks, and he can feel Luke’s pulse race beneath his palm, their hearts beating in steady unison.

"Always," Luke smiles, eyes bright and terribly blue.

And Din doesn’t know who leans in first, just that they are doing it together, until their lips meet, and they melt into each other, barriers broken down, just two bright lights against the emptiness of the universe.

It’s quiet and soft, with no hurriedness or urgency, and they take their time, just holding onto each other until Luke has to break away trying to stifle a yawn.

“Sorry,” he says and ducks his head sheepishly, but he doesn’t pull away, just leans further into Din instead, face burying into his shoulder with another yawn.

Din huffs out a low rumbling laugh, quiet and content, and pulls him closer to press a kiss on the top of his head.

“Let’s get you back to bed.”

Luke doesn’t protest.

“Oh,” Luke says, that same night, when Din sits down at the edge of the bed to take off his shirt and the moonlight catches the faint white pattern of scars that stretches over his whole torso like the vines of a tree.

Luke sits up in an instant, hand raised as if he wants to touch him, but he freezes instead, trapped by his own emotions.

“Din, I’m so sor--”

“I’m not,” Din cuts him off gently and takes Luke’s hand where it hovers mid-air to place it over his heart, right above the most prominent pattern of the scars. He smiles as Luke blinks up at him, stubbornly trying to keep the tears out of his eyes.

“We’re clan,” he says as he pulls Luke in for a kiss. “And we’ll carry them together.”

Luke’s recovery is slow at first, exhaustion clinging to him persistently and he spends most of his time resting and meditating up in their shared room, away from everyone else and their worry. Din stays glued to his side, quiet hours spent entertaining Grogu and making sure Luke doesn’t forget to eat.

It's only after they’ve been in the house for about a week and a half, when Luke feels strong enough to join the shared breakfast down in the main part of the estate, that they finally meet Luke’s aunt. 

From what Din can tell she is in her early sixties, but there is a mischievous glint in her eyes that makes her appear at least ten years younger. Din absentmindedly wonders how much she resembles Luke’s mother.

She introduces herself as Sola Naberrie and by the way both her and Luke awkwardly hover in front of each other for a moment before she finally pulls him into a hug, Din very quickly realizes that the two of them have never actually met.

“You look so much like your father,” she says with a soft smile, hands framing Luke’s face with unexpected familiarity. “Gosh, they’d be so proud of you.”

“Thank you,” Luke says quietly, and Din knows that he is hiding behind one of his many angles, that this is too much for him to take head-on, but there is sincerity in his voice all the same.

Din steps up and places a hand on the small of Luke’s back.

“Thank you for your hospitality,” he says with the hope of pulling her attention away from Luke, and he thinks it probably worked just fine, when she pulls him into a hug too.

Din finds Luke at his mother’s grave that same afternoon.

Her last resting place is a small shrine tucked securely into the cliffs below the estate, where it’s safe from the elements threatening to wither it away with the passing of time. The narrow path of stairs leading down to it is nearly hidden by the lush greenery of the island.

Luke stands at her casket, his left hand gently placed above his mother’s stone one where her sleeping form is etched into the lid. There are fresh flowers framing her face, petals cascading soft against the cold stone. Din quietly pulls off the helmet as he walks up, something about this place making him feel like it’s the only adequate way for him to pay his respects.

"I can feel him here," Luke says quietly as Din comes to stand beside him. "His pain. And his love for her."

Luke doesn’t clarify who he is, but Din knows all the same. The one person Luke seems to keep looking for, wherever they go. Din stays quiet, just lets him work through his thoughts in silent companionship.

"I wonder sometimes,” Luke says, fingers gently tracing patterns into the stone, “would it have been easier if I had known her? Could I have seen myself in her?" he pauses, eyes looking anywhere but his mother’s face. "Or was it all him?"

"Why did you not seek her out sooner?" Din asks carefully.

Luke smiles, rueful and small. "Because what if I couldn't see myself in her?" he says. "What if I was nothing like her? What if it was all him?"

Din steps closer and puts his hand on Luke's back, and he waits patiently until Luke leans into him with a deep sigh. And he doesn’t have the answers to any of those questions but--

"It wasn’t," a voice says suddenly, vibrating off the walls as if it's coming from all around them yet somehow from nowhere all the same. "You're not just like me Luke, not at all."

Din looks up, hands already moving towards the darksaber, but all he finds is a man standing at the far end of the casket, eyes downcast, his whole body nothing but blue hues. Din can see right through him like he would if he was a hologram, but he's not, he's-- what the kriff?

"Anakin?" Luke says, and then quieter as if he isn’t used to saying it at all, “Dad?”

Oh.

Din slowly takes a step back, instantly feeling like he is overstepping his boundaries here, like this is a moment that is definitely not meant for him to share, but Luke reaches out as if on instinct and wraps his hand around Din’s keeping him in place.

Anakin looks up then, his eyes darting around the room for a second before they settle on Luke, as if it's hard for him to face this head-on, like it was hard for Luke to face his aunt's kindness the day before.

"Your mother was kind,” he says finally, his smile small but heartbreakingly sincere. “And she was resilient. She always had compassion for everyone, even when it was hard. Even when I had none.” His eyes go distant for a second, as if his mind is somewhere far away. It’s a look Din knows well. He’s seen it on Luke’s face many many times before. 

When Anakin speaks again it’s even quieter, a strange mixture of gratitude and sorrow. “And just like you,” he says, “she thought that she could save me, that there was good in me, until the very end."

Luke swallows hard, and Din can see the tears shining in his eyes, can feel them as if they were his own. 

“But I couldn’t save you,” Luke says, voice breaking, but he doesn’t cry, wills himself to keep his head held high as if this is something he can’t yet let go off. He pulls his lightsaber from his belt, hovering it right above his gloved palm.

“And I couldn't save myself either,” he continues through clenched teeth, as the lightsaber slowly dismantles itself until all that’s left floating above the center of Luke’s palm is its green kyber crystal, the stone cracked and pervaded by angry streaks of red. “I wasn’t strong enough. I gave in I--  If Din hadn’t been there I--” he shuts his mouth with an audible click, his fingers twitching as the hovering parts of his lightsaber wobble precariously for a second.

He takes a deep breath, his exhale shaky, and Din quietly places a hand on the small of his back until his breath comes even enough for him to continue. “And it’s still there,” Luke says, voice strained. “That darkness. I can still feel it as if-- as if it's a part of me now.”

Anakin stays quiet for a long time, but there is something in the way he tilts his head, in the way he purses his lips, that makes Din think it’s not because of a lack of words, but because there are too many things he wants to say all at once.

“Luke,” he says in the end, after a long sigh. "You thought that even I could be redeemed, why do you think you can't be?"

Luke doesn’t answer, and Din isn’t sure he even could, not when his exhale is still shaky and his fingers still tremble where they hover in the air. But Anakin doesn’t seem to need him to answer, and instead of pushing he stretches out his hand to wrap it around the crystal, an eerie blue glow against the red and green.

He doesn't say anything, just beckons Luke to do the same. There is something unspoken that passes between them then, something Din thinks he wouldn’t understand even if they tried to explain it to him. They both close their eyes and draw a long breath and Din feels a stillness settle around them, as if the air stopped moving, dust particles suspended mid-motion. 

There is a warmth that comes with it somehow, and he isn’t sure if it is his own or if he is merely witnessing it, but he feels it, all the same, a bright pure feeling of love spreading sure and steady in his chest, as he watches the glow of the crystal shift slowly until all that emerges from their hands is pure light.

When Luke gently uncurls his fingers again the only color that remains is a startling bright white.

The lightsaber carefully stitches itself back together again and drops into Luke’s palm and when Luke looks back up at Anakin the look on his father’s face is so gentle, so unfiltered and proud, that something clenches in Din’s chest despite all the terrible things he knows about the man.

“I wish you were still here,” Luke says and his tears fall then, uninhibited like a child’s, dancing around his cheeks weightlessly, gravity suspended with the weight of the emotions around them.

“Oh Luke,” Anakin says and steps forward as if he wants to embrace his son, his bodiless form fizzling at the edges as it glides through his wife's grave, unable to reach out. 

And it’s then that his eyes meet Din’s for the first time, and even though Din knows he is nothing more than an onlooker, he thinks that something unspoken passes between them too, a quiet understanding, a truce.

Din gently reaches out and turns Luke towards him so he can place a kiss on his forehead, and he holds him instead, as Anakin's bodiless form slowly fizzles back out into the universe around them.

No one is ever really gone, says a voice at the back of their minds.

“I’m right here,” says Din, steady and calm and he holds Luke as he cries, his face tucked into the crook of Din’s neck, just below his chin.

"I think he's right you know,” Din says after a while when he can feel Luke’s breathing come in even intervals again. “You are a lot like your mother.”

Luke looks up at him, tears still clinging onto his lashes and Din reaches up to wipe them from his cheeks. Luke leans into his touch, lets Din hold him up when he is too tired to do so himself.

“Your sister on the other hand," Din adds then, with a small smirk. "She's a menace. Very much your father's child."

Luke rolls his eyes but he huffs a laugh, "Don't tell her that."

"Wouldn't dare."

Luke frowns as if that made him remember something. "Where is Grogu?"

"I left him with Han,” Din says and shrugs when Luke raises an eyebrow. “He offered."

"Ah."

"What?"

"Nothing."

"Luke."

"Han might have mentioned that he thinks it would look really funny if Grogu held a blaster."

"Dank Farrik," Din curses, takes Luke’s hand, and sprints.

Din remembers the question one morning after breakfast when they are taking their food back to eat in the privacy of their room, something he had been meaning to ask since their rescue on the star Destroyer.

"Solo,” he starts, then begrudgingly stops when Luke raises a judging eyebrow. “Han, is he--" Din tries to remember the correct word, "--Force-sensitive?"

Luke can't hide his grin. "Yea, quite strongly actually,” he says with a small look at Grogu who coos happily in his arms. “But don't tell him, not unless you really want to rile him up."

"Oh in that case I won't shut up about it then."

Luke laughs.

Luke suggests they try sparring about two weeks into their stay, clearly getting restless with nothing but sleeping, eating, and meditating to occupy his mind. They settle on the big lush courtyard as their training grounds, gathering a small crowd of Shara, Solo, and the kids.

“Get him, Commander!” Shara shouts as they take their fighting stances.

They ignite their respective sabers, Luke’s now a bright white against the black of the Darksaber, and they take their first step towards each other and--oh

They both freeze.

"I can feel you," Din says, intelligently and Luke laughs.

"Yea," he says tipping his head back to the sky. "That might be an issue."

"Hey what’s the holdup," Solo shouts from the sidelines. "I was promised a show!"

Luke exchanges another knowing glance with Din, then he shuts off his lightsaber and shrugs at Solo.

"When we fought Palpatine, there was a lot of excess energy all around us. Once it all--ended, that energy had to go somewhere, and uhm--" he shrugs again, "It appears that it decided to meld our minds together instead."

"Wait so like-- you can read each other's minds?" Shara asks, looking mildly horrified.

"Not really, not unless we concentrate on communicating or unless one of us feels a very strong emotion," Luke explains. "It's not as straightforward as that. But we can vaguely feel where we are at all times, and both our sabers amplify our connection, so if we spar it's kind of like--" Luke fishes for the right words and Din jumps in.

"It's like fighting yourself," he says and Luke gives another short laugh.

"Yea, like fighting yourself."

"Ok,” Solo drawls, “So we’re not getting a show?"

"I'm afraid not," Din shrugs. "Not much point in fighting if you know your opponents every move."

"Well," Luke says, his voice deceptively casual like he is truly contemplating their predicament. "I know one form of bodily contact where it could be beneficial."

"Really?" Din tilts his head at him. "What could that--"

Luke raises his eyebrows and Din shuts up immediately because oh, that. Yea, ok.

"Oh kriff," Solo shouts and puts his hands over Ben's ears, while Shara snorts out a laugh. "There are kids present!"

Din can feel his ears heat up, and, kriff, he is a grown man. This is not the thing to get flustered about, but while they have been close to each other the past two weeks, they haven’t been close, not like that, not since that one frantic night on the ship and when he looks at Luke now, Luke who has to hide his face behind his gloved hand to not burst out laughing, Luke whose hair is sticking up in playful disarray, Luke who looks happy, like he's having fun, Luke who feels warm and steady at the back of his mind, he--

Din swallows, throat suddenly dry.

"The Mudhorn?" he says, voice definitely a bit too rough, definitely a bit too suggestive, and Luke's smile instantly drops into something much more heated.

"The Mudhorn," Luke confirms with a nod that comes much too quick to be appropriate and Din is suddenly incredibly glad their bond does not stretch past their own minds.

"Yeah sure, we'll just watch the kids then!" Solo shouts after them, but Din barely hears it, too focused on getting back to their ship so Luke can bend him over something.

Leia arrives back at the estate the next day while Din is helping Sola carry supplies into the basement. He doesn’t even notice her cruiser arrive at first, too busy making sure he isn’t tripped up by any of the children that decided this would be the perfect time to play fetch around his legs. 

It’s only after he sets down the last crate, both Poe and Grogu now balanced on his shoulders where they are safe from any falling vegetables, that he notices a faint feeling of deep concentration ebb over his bond with Luke, the type he’s only ever felt in a fight.

“Where is Luke?” he calls out to Sola, a slight feeling of panic rising in his chest, even though he can’t seem to sense any imminent danger, the estate calm around them. 

“He's sparring out in the courtyard, dear,” she says with a small laugh at how fast he’s scrambling out from the basement.

"Against whom?" Din asks, frowning behind the helmet, but he’s already around the corner before Sola can answer.

He arrives just in time to see Luke parry an overhead strike, the bright white of his blade stark against the blue of the one Leia wields against him. It takes him a second, but as he gets closer Din recognizes it as Obi-Wan Kenobi’s old lightsaber.

They’ve gathered a small crowd, the same people that didn’t get to see a show when Din and Luke tried to spar the last time. Shara and Solo scoot apart where they are sitting on one of the benches and Din sinks down between them, Poe sliding off his shoulders to sit at his mother’s feet, closer to the action. 

Once Din is settled, Solo wordlessly loosens his grip on Ben so he can climb into Din’s lap instead and put his cheek against his breastplate with a small sigh, the Force null of the beskar once again calming against the business around them. Din pulls his arms around him quietly, one hand resting loosely on his head so his vambrace creates an additional barrier.

“Who do you think is gonna win this one?” Solo whispers conspiratory, leaning into Din’s personal space as if he’s not aware everyone can absolutely still hear him.

“Is it a competition?”

“It could be.”

Din tilts his helmet.

Luke’s form is very clearly the more refined one, strikes as precise as usual, albeit slowed by his lingering exhaustion, but Din realizes quickly that Leia must have had at least some form of training because she isn’t far behind him in the ferocity of her swings. And the refinement she lacks in her movements she more than makes up with the absolute relentlessness with which she charges at her brother.

And Din thinks that he probably shouldn’t even consider betting against Luke but-- 

Luke’s eyes snap to Din as if he heard him, a mildly offended frown on his face, and before Din can even finish his thought, Leia uses Luke’s break in concentration to kick him in the chest with such momentum it knocks him square on his back. She levels her lightsaber at his throat with a triumphant grin on her lips.

"Gotcha old man."

"We are twins,” Luke protests, and he sounds offended in a way only siblings ever are with each other. “We are literally the same age!"

"Well one of us must have been born first," Leia counters, shutting off her lightsaber to put her hands on her hips.

"Who says it's me?" 

For a second Din thinks they are about to solve the argument with a staring contest, but then Artoo lets out a series of cheerful beeps. For a second they both look at him in surprise, then Leia barks out a laugh.

"I was right!” she exclaims in triumph. “You are the older one!"

Luke bristles for a second, as if this information truly offends him, but then a grin spreads on his lips. "Well actually,” he starts, waging a finger at her from where he’s still sitting on the floor. “If you account for time dilation then you are probably older based on the fact that I was stuck on Tatooine for nineteen years while you jetted all around the galaxy.”

"What? Banthashit."

"Actually," Din shrugs from the side. "He's right, depending on where you traveled at what speeds. If you move fast enough through space, the observations that you make about space and time differ somewhat from the observations of other people, who are moving at different speeds and--"

“Wait, hold on--” Leia cuts him off with a frown on her face, somehow utterly bewildered by Din’s explanation. “I’ve seen you try to kill a fly by throwing your vibro knife at it, how do you know this much about the laws of physics?”

“Leia,” Luke laughs, something strangely proud in his voice. “He speaks like eight different languages.”

“You speak eight languages?” Solo asks, sounding truly offended for no apparent reason.

“Fourteen if you count the dialects,” Din shrugs again. “It’s useful.”

“Useful?” Solo gapes at him, sarcasm thick in his voice. “And let me guess, hotshot, you’re a prolific mechanic too? And a weapons expert, yea? Plus I’m sure you can slice through doors without a droid, right?”

Din tilts his helmet in honest confusion. “Yes?” 

“Oh Force,” Leia groans before Solo can say anything truly offensive, her head tipped towards the sky. "Of course you are both nerds."

Luke sticks his tongue out at her.

It happens gradually after that.

It starts with Luke casually explaining the concept of their bond to a small gaggle of wide-eyed children over dinner and continues with Din walking in on Luke's morning meditation to find Grogu nestled on his lap and Ben cross-legged opposite them, stealing small glances through partially closed eyes. 

“Leia asked me to train her again,” Luke says, one afternoon as they are watching Grogu and Poe run circles around the pond in the courtyard. “Not all of it, just a little. Just enough so she can help Ben when he needs it.”

There is something about the way Luke says it, as if he’s asking for permission, that makes Din stretch out his hand between them, palm up. Luke takes it with a long sigh.

“I’m nervous,” he confesses and then, quieter, “and scared. What if I’m not ready?”

“Then we’ll figure it out,” Din says, and he knows it probably won’t be that easy, but he believes it anyway, that they can do anything, as long as it’s the two of them. “You don’t have to do it all at once. And you don’t have to do it alone.”

“Together?” Luke asks.

“Together,” Din confirms.

Din wakes up some nights with sudden panic stuck in his chest, afraid that if he opens his eyes the bed will be empty beside him, that Luke has gone again and left him behind.

But every single time, without fail, he is caught by the comforting warmth of twin rising suns at the back of his mind and gentle hands reach out to pull him closer, until he can hear Luke’s heartbeat where he tucks Din’s head against his chest.

“I’m right here,” Luke will tell him, steady and calm, and he’ll hum the lullaby until they both drift back to sleep, wrapped up in blankets and brisk night air.

"You're still calling me Solo in your head, aren't you?"

"Kriff off, " Din says with a jerk of his head.

"Kriff off!" Ben repeats from where he is sitting on Din's lap. 

There is a tense beat of silence where both men pretend to be shocked.

Then all three of them burst out laughing.

It's just Han whenever Din thinks of him after that. 

He finds them by complete accident, about two and a half weeks into their stay.

He’s not even sure why he has the urge to see the ship that day, but there is something that makes him feel more at home there than at the estate, and even though it’s an inanimate object Din can’t help but think that somehow it is part of their clan too.

But it’s a coincidence really, that he decides to look at that one specific crate in the captain's quarters, that he decides to dig down and sort through all the gear he keeps around for maintaining his armor. He nearly dismisses it too, just a small bundle of cloth, but there is something about how neatly it’s wrapped that makes him curious. When he finally gets it unwrapped, he feels his breath catch in his throat as familiar warmth spreads in his chest.

There in the palm of his hand sit two small Mudhorn signets.

He recognizes the Armorer's handiwork instantly, but it takes him a second to grasp that she must have slipped the small bundle between his belongings on their trip to Concordia, many weeks ago. As he turns them over in his palm, he finds a short message scratched neatly into the leather.

Come see me when the contract is finished.

When he makes his way back to the estate in the late afternoon, he finds Luke waiting for him at the balcony in front of their room. Luke is leaning with his back against the balustrade, hair tousled from the wind. Din feels an urgency pull at his chest at the sight and he picks up his pace subconsciously until finally the tips of their boots touch and he can lean their foreheads together.

"Grogu?" he asks after a bit, the thought of his son still ever-present at the forefront of his mind, even when he trusts that Luke made sure he’s perfectly safe.

"Playing with Poe and Ben," Luke says with a soft smile as he leans back to look up at Din. "Don't worry, Kes is the one supervising this time."

Din slips off his helmet and places it on the balustrade, stepping up beside Luke to lean forward over the balcony, vambraces propped up against the cold stone. He doesn't speak for a long while, just contemplates what he needs to say next, while Luke stays quiet beside him, giving him space to think. 

"It's time," he says finally, and Luke nods.

"I know." 

"None will be free until the old ways are gone forever," Din says, staring out at the lake. "A friend told me that once.”

“Your friend was very wise,” Luke confirms softly.

Din takes a deep breath, because he doesn’t like what he’s about to say next, but he knows he has to say it regardless, that he won’t take that choice from Luke, that he will never push past what Luke is willing to give himself.

“I appreciate all your help, everything you’ve done for me, for Grogu, I really do,” Din says, as steady as he can, the words tumbling out just a bit too quick in his reluctance to say them. “But I won't ask you to fight another war for me. This is not your fight.”

He feels Luke hesitate beside him for a moment and when Din turns to look at him something in his gaze has shifted, his eyes suddenly guarded.

“I know the contract is finished,” Luke starts slowly, uncharacteristically pensive. “But I-- If you’d let me--” he drifts off suddenly, his hand coming up to circle the wrist of his gloved hand and oh--

“Luke, I’m not--” Din starts but then stops himself in favor of stepping closer so he can wrap his arms around Luke and pull him into a long kiss instead. He feels relief washing over them immediately, shared between their bond.

"Of course I want you by my side,” he says when they break apart, as sure of his words as he’s ever been of anything in his life. “Contract or not, as long as you want to be, you are in my care."

Luke falters for a second, becomes very still in Din’s arms, but then he nods and his jaw sets, a look of determination crossing his face.

“Okay,” Luke says with another nod, and he deliberates for a second before he speaks again. “What if we don’t set out to fight a war then,” he proposes, “but try to rebuild instead? What if we focus on building a home?”

Din doesn’t even have to think about his answer.

“I’d like that,” he smiles and leans down to brush his nose against Luke’s in agreement. “I’d like that very much.”

Din travels to Concordia alone at first, much to Luke's dismay, but they reach an agreement in the end, that after what happened last time it's better if Din makes amends on his own.

He expects there to be hostility, he really does, and he’s prepared to face it head-on, to reaffirm his dedication to the creed, to his people. But when he carefully walks down the ramp of the Mudhorn, all he's met with is Paz and an unnecessarily hard clap on the back.

As it turns out it helps your reputation quite a lot if you kill the leader of the empire that massacred and enslaved your people for decades.

Bo-Katan is off-world, which probably works in his favor too, and over the course of the first hour of his stay, as Paz leads him through their makeshift camp, the most vexing thing he experiences is the fact that he meets more people than he’ll be able to remember names of. It’s an absolutely unspectacular welcome, some interactions friendly, some weary, some completely oblivious to what he represents, and while Din knows that that most likely promises trouble further ahead, he is grateful for it now.

It’s only later, when they are inspecting some of the weapons Din still has stored on the ship, that Paz and Axe cheerily clue him in on some of the things that changed in his absence.

While his last interaction with Bo-Katan, who is still more or less their de facto leader, did leave quite an impression, he learns that a big part of his peaceful reception is thanks to the swiftness in which the Armorer established herself as a vital element of their efforts to regain Mandalore, her work and her knowledge indispensable even to someone as seasoned as Bo-Katan.

What is more surprising though, is the way Boba has more or less willingly thrown himself into the mix, not in his function as a vital player of Hutt Space and the criminal underworld, but as somewhat of a diplomat, bridging the gap between their newly forming nation and the New Republic. That, Din learns, is mostly thanks to the unlikely truce he struck up with no other than Senator Organa, after she made it very clear that killing her husband would not act in the favor of anyone involved.

"No idea how you got all those powerful people on your side," Paz laughs while Axe raises an amused eyebrow. “But we ain’t mad, vod.”

And Din doesn’t fully understand either, still fights with feeling like he hasn’t earned any of these things, but for now, for his people and his ability to build a home for them, he decides he’ll take it.

The Armorer waits for him in her newly set up forge deep in the old mines of the moon.

Their interaction is familiar, a ritual practiced over many years, and Din quietly takes a seat at the little low table beside the smelter while she keeps on working away on her latest project.

“Here,” she says after a while, as she walks up to him and passes him a piece of dark grey cloth. “What do you think of this?”

He turns it over in his hands, contemplating, while she walks back to her workbench to continue adjustments on what Din thinks might be vambraces. As he inspects it he notices that it’s not just a piece of cloth at all, but a fully stitched poncho, complete with a hood and clasps that he suspects let the wearer adjust its form. Right on the front, there are intricate stitched details, the seams coming together to form a pattern reminiscent of his own breastplate.

It’s much much lighter than any of the sets he’s ever seen her make, not to mention the fact that it has a completely different form, but it’s undoubtedly a piece of armor, and there is something familiar about the way the fabric moves beneath his fingers.

“This is beskar,” he realizes with some surprise. “How?”

“An old method, ancient,” she elaborates as she comes to sit in front of him. “Beskar alloys composed specifically to allow for them to be threaded through fabric. Not as sturdy or impenetrable as your own armor, but they offer a fine defense all the same. And it’s much lighter. Much more maneuverable.” 

She leans forwards and places two more pieces between them, the vambraces Din saw her work on, thin and sleek, no additional function, just two simple bands of pure beskar.

“Did you bring it?” she asks, stretching out her hand to him and Din pulls out one of the small Mudhorn signets she left with him.

"Whose armor is this?" Din can’t help but ask then, throat suddenly tight.

"Your riduur’s, of course," she says without missing a beat.

"You-- you made armor for Luke? For a Jetti?” Din says, something heavy settling in his chest. He doesn’t even ask how she knows what they mean to each other, tries not to dwell on the fact that she must have known weeks ago, even when Din was oblivious to it himself. 

"I modified one," she says, pointedly ignoring the emotion in his voice. "The beskar used to craft this armor belonged to a Jedi knight once, an Obi-Wan Kenobi. He wore it during the siege of Mandalore, protecting our people. Boba Fett brought it to me, a while ago. I thought about melting it in, but from what I understand your riduur was this Obi-Wan's founding, was he not?"

And yes, in some way, Din supposes that's true. Still, he can't help the doubt bubbling up in his chest. Because it's not just this, but it's her willingness to let him get away with taking off his helmet too, even before he knew what Luke meant to him.

"You bend the creed. For me."

"I wouldn't say bend," she says, not looking up from welding the signet to the left vambrace.  "And certainly not just for you."

Din tilts his head, lost, but he has learned to wait.

"Traditions are important,” she continues when she is done and inspecting her own handiwork. “For a sense of belonging, a strong foundation. But to thrive, cultures need to evolve. To adapt. Our secrecy might have meant our survival for a long time, but in the end, it's our survival that is our strength."

"You tested me. When we came to rescue you."

"And you passed, with flying colors," there is a smile in her voice now. "As I knew you would."

"It wasn't just me."

"And you think your ability to lead, to inspire, was not part of that test?"

Din doesn’t know what to say to that and so he stays quiet instead, contemplating her words. He has the strange urge to reach for the darksaber.

Satisfied with her own work she puts the vambrace down and gets up to retrieve another bundle of cloth. “This is for you,” she says as she hands it to him, lowering herself back down. 

He turns it over in his hands, the material much like Luke’s, but the cut different, a cape instead of a poncho. It’s a dark grey, nearly black, the edges sealed off by a beautiful dark red border. The familiar skull of the mythosaur is woven through in the same red, right where the fabric would rest over his left shoulder.

“Much more sturdy than your current cape,” the Armorer elaborates when Din fights to find his voice again. “More appropriate for your current standing.”

"Why me?" Din asks finally and it feels childish, but he has to know, as emotions rise in his chest, too fast for him to fully process. "I wasn't ready. Not when we rescued you, and I don’t think I am now."

"You can never be ready for a task like this. Not if you intend to do it right," she says, her voice suddenly gentle in a way he hasn't heard for a long time. "But you can be humble, and kind, and a fierce warrior. And you've been all of that since the day we took you in."

Din has to swallow hard against the tears rising in his eyes. He tries to blink them away, but in the end, all he can do is duck his head. He startles when the Armorer reaches out and places her hands on each side of his helmet.

"May I see you, Din Djarin?" she asks and all he can do is nod once, twice, before she gently lifts the helmet off his head.

His tears fall then, when he looks at her with his own eyes, unfiltered by the visor, like he did the last time as a child. Her gloves are warm against his cheeks as she wipes away his tears, and he doesn't stop himself from leaning into her touch.

"Oh, look at the man you’ve become," she says soft and proud, but there is conviction in her voice too, finality. "Will you lead your people, Mand'alor the Protector?"

"It would be a great honor."

Actually standing in front of Bo-Katan is harder.

He is still angry at her, at what she said, who she is, and what she stands for. But she is a resource, a part of Mandalore that he can never be and no matter what he thinks of her deep down, she is still part of the people he has sworn to lead, to protect. 

He catches her eyes lingering on the red mythosaur skull on his cape, even as she sneers at him, and he thinks that maybe, just maybe, beyond their spite and hostility, and even beyond their shared goal, the thing they might find common ground on someday is their shared struggle with letting go of the way things used to be.

And so, as a show of good faith and in a move that seems to surprise both of them in equal measures, she becomes the first person he doesn’t consider clan, that he willingly takes his helmet off for.

Din paints his armor on the way back to Naboo, when the quietness of the ship gets too much to bear, the space cold and distant without the feeling of Luke warm beside him.

He leaves most of it in its natural silver still, the pure beskar a visual reminder of his dedication to his creed, his people, and in some way a sign of how he is a reflection of them. In the light of the ship, it gleams nearly white, a fitting color for the journey ahead.

But there are some alterations that feel right, that reflect his journey, and that represent both him as one distinct entity and the things he has sworn to keep close to him, to protect. He chooses red as his accent color, matching with the one that adorns the edges of his cape.

Some of the brushstrokes he paints on a whim, like the red he puts over the blue triangles on his glove-guards, but some are set deliberately, like the three stripes he paints down the left side of his helmet, all the way down to his breastplate, where they’ll sit right over his heart.

It’s when he paints two round circles on the top right of his helmet, reminiscent of twin rising suns, that the words cross his mind for the first time: Mhi solus tome, mhi solus dar'tome, mhi me'dinui an, mhi ba'juri verde.

We are one when together, we are one when parted, we will share all, we will raise warriors.

They are words he’s known intimately all his adult life, but never really thought he’d ever have any use for. And yet he is absolutely sure about their significance now, even though at first they don’t cross his mind as the Mandalorian marriage vows, but purely as their literal meaning, as the way, he feels about Luke now, something that spans backward and forwards in time, just one singular state of being, beyond any logic or reason.

He can feel Luke at the back of his mind when he breaks through Naboo’s atmo, guiding him home, his presence instantly soothing, warm, and steady, and something loosens and sets in his chest at the same time, a decision made. He is reminded then, of that moment he stood in front of Obi-Wan Kenobi’s hut on Tatooine, when he first decided to stay, to make sure Luke would never have to be alone again.

When he sets the Mudhorn down at the small hangar beside the estate Luke is already waiting for him, hands folded in front of him, a deceptively calm smile on his face.

"I didn't know how you'd feel,” he says a little bit sheepishly when Din walks down the ramp to meet him. “I wanted to give you some time to adjust before you see Grogu, just in case you--"

And he doesn't get farther than that because Din is already right in front of him, pulling him closer to lean their foreheads together. All the air seems to leave Luke’s lungs all at once, and his calm snaps, a physical sensation at the back of their minds, as Luke's hands shoot up and grab onto Din’s neck, fingers sliding under the edges of his helmet, to dig into his skin.

Din pulls him closer, wraps his arms around his back, fingers gliding into Luke’s hair as he pulls his head into the crook of his neck and they both release a long breath, a wave of relief passing between them at being able to feel each other again.

“I missed you,” Din says, because he can and because it’s true.

Luke chuckles and Din can feel it vibrating all the way through his chest. “I missed you too,” he says, voice slightly muffled by how his nose is still buried into the edges of Din’s cape.

That proximity is what makes Luke pull back in the end, even though Din can feel that he’s reluctant to do so, his gloved hand smoothing out the fabric of Din’s cape. 

“That’s new,” he remarks with a curious frown. “And you painted your armor," he tilts his head, his eyes darting back and forth between them and the Mudhorn. "And the ship."

Din simply nods. "Do you know what they mean? The colors?"

Luke hums, thinking for a second. "Black for justice," he starts. "For Mandalore?"

Din nods again and Luke continues. "White for a new start. I assume also for Mandalore?"

"And us," Din adds, and Luke ducks his head for a second, a soft smile on his lips.

"And red," he says at last, "to honor your parents."

"And yours."

Luke blinks up at him, startled, and he seems frozen for just a moment before his eyes go impossibly soft. It’s the same look he gave him on Tatooine, when Din first spoke to the Tusken in front of the farm.

"Din," he says, and his voice seems to fail him after that, but he doesn’t really have to say anything else, not when Din can feel him warm and steady in his arms.

"There is something else," Din starts carefully, a sudden nervousness setting into his stomach as he pulls Luke’s armor out from where he carried it wrapped up on his back. "This is yours. If you want it."

Luke takes a deep breath, visibly pulling himself together before he gently takes it from Din's hands to open it up in his arms. He sees the poncho first, now adorned with the same dark red border that lines Din’s cape. His fingers trace the soft fabric with the same reverence Din’s did the first time he held it.

"That's beskar," Luke says with a hint of confusion in his voice, and then Din sees it click into place, his eyes going wide. "Din that's-- that's armor."

"The beskar'gam this was crafted with belonged to your old master, Obi-Wan Kenobi," Din elaborates, while he steps a bit closer again, placing his hands under Luke's elbows to help him hold up the weight. "He aided my people during the Clone Wars. It’s tradition to pass it down."

"You made-- no, you altered armor. For me?"

"The Armorer did," Din clarifies but nods all the same. “And I know you don’t usually wear armor, but this is lighter, easier for you to move in.”

Luke swallows against the obvious lump in his throat, but he keeps it together, looks up at Din with determination in his eyes, "Thank you," he says, "It would be a great honor to wear it."

"There is, uhm--" Din starts and the nervousness creeps up further now, his mouth suddenly dry, heart beating heavy in his chest. He is weirdly glad that his helmet is still on. “There is more."

Luke raises an eyebrow at him but carefully starts unwrapping the rest of the bundle until he gets to the two beskar vambraces. He takes a sharp breath the second he sees the Mudhorn signet clearly visible on the left one. 

The fingers of his left hand ghost over the cold metal for a moment and he opens his mouth to say something but closes it again immediately when the things he wants to say seem impossible to put into words.

So Luke crowds a little closer instead, leans his forehead against Din's helmet again, and lets the feelings pass between them unspoken, overwhelming and precious and steady and warm.

There's a grin on his lips when he steps back after a while, his tone playful now, teasing.  "Me openly wearing the signet, doesn't that mean we'd have to be married?"

"Yes."

"Oh."

"It doesn't have to be now,” Din amends quickly. “Maybe not for a long time if you don't feel ready, but--"

"No, I--" Luke stumbles over his words, suddenly a bit breathless. "Now,” he says, eyes wide and sincere. “I'd marry you right now."

And that’s really all it takes for Din to lose his last shred of composure, to grab Luke by the arm and drag him back to the ship, and they are both breathless by the time they reach the upper deck and Luke barely has time to put his armor down on the common room table before Din rips off his helmet to crowd him against the door of the captains quarters and pull him into a hurried kiss.

"Are you sure?" Din asks when they break apart for air, his voice low and urgent, and somehow he feels foolish for not having asked Luke to marry him sooner, something in him baffled that he hadn’t thought of it the first night they met.

"Yes," Luke reaches up to frame Din’s face with his hands and steals one more kiss. "More than anything yes."

Din leans their foreheads together then, unable to wait a second longer and speaks the vows between them, words tumbling out fast and low in how desperate he is for Luke to hear them. 

When Luke repeats them, it’s without a shred of stutter or hesitation. 

And the pronunciation is still a bit wonky but--

Din pulls back slightly to look at him in obvious confusion. "You practiced them," he realizes, a slight hint of accusation in his voice, even when his heart feels nothing but warm.

Luke laughs, eyes bright and happy and terribly blue. "Is this really the first thing you want to say to your husband?"

And no, it isn’t.

“Ni kar'tayl gar darasuum,” Din says instead, fast and low, the way he imagined he’d say it one day, back when he was still just a kid full of dreams he never fathomed would come true.

“Want me to pretend I don’t know what that means?” Luke teases with a grin, and Din shuts him up with a kiss.

"Maybe I should take your name," Luke wonders later, when they are tangled into each other in the captain's quarters, naked and warm and content.

He rolls onto his back to stare up at the ceiling and Din props himself up on one elbow so he can look at his face. There is playfulness in Luke’s voice but something serious too and Din knows this is not the first time he thought about the concept of becoming someone else.

"I'd be a Mandalorian," he continues with some thought, while Din places lazy kisses onto his jaw. "Maybe it's time for the Jedi to end."

Din hums, non-committal, nuzzling against his neck, letting him play around with that thought for just a little while.

"Luke Djarin," Luke tests it out in his tongue and Din can't deny it sounds nice, can't deny he'd like to see him with his name just like he liked seeing him in his clothes. And he know that he won’t ever understand what it's like to be the last one of Luke’s kind, to feel what he feels, but still-- 

"I'd be for the best, I suppose," Luke sighs long and heavy, chest expanding against Din’s palm. "There have been quite enough Skywalkers in this galaxy, wouldn’t you say?"

"You know I strongly disagree," Din says then and leans a bit further over him so he can place a kiss on Luke’s forehead. "I fell in love with a Skywalker, after all. And I did just marry a Jedi." 

Luke rolls his eyes at the obvious sappiness of the statement, but Din pulls him into a slow kiss before he can try to counter his argument. “But whatever you decide,” he adds when they break apart, quieter now and a bit more serious. “No matter who you chose to be, I'll be right beside you along the way.”

“We are one when together, we are one when parted,” Luke says softly, and he blinks up at Din with something akin to recognition crossing his face, as if it’s only now that he truly understands the meaning of those words. He stretches out his hand between them until Din mirrors him and laces their fingers together mid-air. 

“We will share all,” Din finishes, quiet but with intent, and he still doesn’t fully understand how their bond works, but he hopes Luke feels his sincerity all the same.

“Together,” Luke says, and Din thinks he probably does.

“Together,” Din confirms and Luke pulls him in for another kiss.

The only thing that rivals the relief of seeing Luke again is the feeling of being able to scoop Grogu up into his arms, to hear his happy coos as he holds him close. Right after that, Din thinks, might be the warm feeling of protectiveness that rises in his chest at how both Poe and Ben launch themselves at him with such momentum he nearly loses his balance.

It takes a while until everyone settles down after that, but just as the sun sets on the horizon Din gets a second of quiet with Luke and Grogu, the three of them nestled up under a tree in the courtyard. Luke isn't wearing his armor yet, and they don't tell anyone, content with keeping it just for themselves, at least for now, although by the way Leia looks at them he suspects she at least knows.

But Grogu is a different story, and while he is too small to fully understand the concept of marriage, or to wear proper armor still, Din wants him to carry the signet all the same, wants him to know that he belongs with them, that he’s loved, wherever he might go.

The Armorer must have shared his thoughts about Grogu’s ability to wear full armor, because instead of welding it onto a pauldron or vambrace she fashioned his signet into a compact pin instead.

“You know what this means?” Din asks as he pins the signet to Grogu’s coat, right beneath his collar. His big ears shoot up at the question, sitting quietly for once to let Din do his work, as if he understands the significance of the gesture.

“It means we’re clan,” Din continues when the signet is securely in place. “You and me and Luke. It means none of us will ever be alone again, even when we’re not beside each other.”

“Patoo!” Grogu says and Luke lets out a small laugh beside him. 

Din has the urge to reach for the Darksaber because he's still not quite sure how to properly communicate with Grogu without its help, but it feels somewhat inappropriate to ignite it right now, here in this moment of peace. Before he can voice any of his concerns Luke leans closer, his forehead nearly bumping into Din’s, and bridges the gap for him.

“He’s thinking of family,” Luke elaborates while Grogu keeps babbling on, “and he-- oh,” Luke’s eyes go soft and a gentle smile spreads on his lips. “I think that’s a great idea, little one,” he says, addressing Grogu directly, but then he nods his head at Din, “but I think you need to ask your father first.”

“About what?” Din frowns, aware that there is very little he would deny his son. Grogu wordlessly pulls out the mythosaur pendant from beneath his collar, holding it up towards Din.

“He wants to give it to Ben,” Luke translates, voice impossibly soft. “Something to help him ground himself.”

“Oh.” 

“It’s beskar. A blank space in the Force to focus on when he gets overwhelmed.”

"An Anchor," Din realizes, and thinks about the small round orb from the Razor Crest that’s still a reassuring weight in his pocket.

“Yes,” Luke nods with another smile. “Grogu has the signet now, so he thinks he’ll be ok without it.”

Din has to swallow against all the emotions rising in his chest, but then he nods, pulling Grogu closer to his chest. “Of course,” he says. “That's very clever of you.”

And there are many other things he still wants to add to that - how Grogu doesn’t even have to ask because Din gave the pendant to him and that means that it’s his to give away, how he has agency now, how he is allowed to decide his own actions and fate, and how he is so so proud of him, how incredibly much he loves him now and always will. 

But in the end, he doesn’t say any of that and settles on leaning their foreheads together instead, because he knows he will have tomorrow to teach him those things, and then the day after that, and the next one too.

They all eat together that night, one big mismatched family, bound by love and blood and circumstance, domestic in a way that nothing in their lives ever was, and when Din takes off his helmet to take a bite of the bread Grogu shoves in his face, no one seems to mind at all.

They stay on Naboo for three more days after that, the calm before their next storm. 

Leia leaves first, the day after Din comes back, a quiet goodbye before the sun has gone up past the horizon. Kes and Shara go second, making their way back to Yavin, ready to rebuild the place they made their home, even as Sola extends their house to them indefinitely. 

When it’s finally their turn to leave too, when they can’t put it off any longer, Din is surprised to find that it’s Han who decides to stay on Naboo, hidden away in the quietness of the estate with the hope it might bring Ben some peace, even if it’s just for a little while.

Leaving Grogu behind with him is as hard as it was the first time, and the time after that, but both of them agree that they won’t risk letting him anywhere near the devastation of a potential war, that keeping their son safe goes above anything else.

As they arrange themselves new part of Din keeps waiting for the other shoe to drop, like it did on Yavin, for Luke to leave or for catastrophe to strike, but it doesn't and in the end, it’s them who chose to find chaos, not the other way around.

Luke's presence proves difficult at first, as they join the efforts to reclaim Mandalore.

Part is their cultures' frayed history, the lingering distrust passed down through generations, but that is soothed quite quickly by the open trust Din displays in him, as well as the continued respect Luke keeps showing for their creed, culture, and people. 

The more difficult aspect to deal with proves to be the reputation Luke built for himself over the years, all its half-truths hard to shake. 

The general mistrust in the New Republic is addressed swiftly too, Luke more than willing and happy to renounce any lingering affiliations to the senate, but other whispers linger - of death and glowing red blades and bad fortune.

To Din’s surprise, it's Paz who becomes Luke's biggest advocate, in all the times Din can't be, and he watches a strange friendship bloom between them, one that he thinks they don’t fully understand either but seem to appreciate all the same.

Still, they decide to keep their relationship a secret at first, neither of them keen on being made into a political bargaining chip or on running the risk of acting as bait for some desperate Imp.

It works mostly due to the fact that Luke easily slips into the role of a quiet observer, choosing to stay in his standard Jedi robes rather than wearing his armor, and while some know and some suspect, no one mentions it, the majority of people either too distracted by the efforts of war or happy enough to look away.

Din learns quickly how hard it is at times to keep himself from reaching out, from stopping Luke between supply tents so he can lean their foreheads together in passing, or from lacing their fingers together under the table when they discuss their ever-changing plans of attack. And it’s hard not to drag him back to the ship too, where it’s just the two of them, whenever their eyes meet across the room and Luke smiles at him, warm and real, and just at the right angle.

But through it all, he can still feel Luke at the back of his mind whenever he falters, and he feels him in his arms at night too, when they fall into bed together and so Din thinks that if this is all he needs to endure to keep them safe, then that’s just fine.

The first outsider he takes his helmet off for is a woman named Qi’ra.

They are running low on supplies, weapons, and rations harder to come by without any established trade routes or official support from the New Republic and after many nights of failed attempts at re-assessing their options, it’s Lando who opens the possibility of a partnership with the remnants of Crimson Dawn.

He remains very tight-lipped on how he acquired that particular contact, a smart move, Din judges, given how Bo-Katan nearly takes his head off at the mere suggestion. Din himself is no stranger to their crimes, and his opinion of them only drops further when he is clued into their former leader’s affiliation to Mandalore.

Still, with their other options practically non-existent and Lando’s assurance that Qi’ra had been working on transitioning the organization to something more at the edges of legitimate rather than criminal, Din decides to at least hear her out.

He meets her alone, unwilling to let any personal grievances sour potential negotiations, although he doesn’t try very hard to hide his own skepticism about her intentions. If she senses his hostility she doesn't show it, her pose purposefully relaxed, a woman who has very clearly learned to hide her true emotions and intentions from anyone else in the room. 

Absentmindedly Din wonders if Luke could read her, or if she would elude even him. There is something about her that makes Din think she has experience with people rummaging around in her head.  

Din pulls off the helmet the second they are alone before he even utters a single word. He doesn’t plan on it really, a decision made on a whim, something in his gut telling him that the one way to get her to drop her mask is to shed his own. By the way her eyes go wide for a second, he supposes it works.

"Well, isn’t that interesting,” Qi'ra smirks, after taking a moment to regain her composure. "I heard you only ever take it off for family or clan,” she adds, deceptively casual. “Last time I checked we weren't related."

Din lets her wait for a second longer before he speaks, his voice level and cool. "I'm taking it off," he says, with a slow step forward, "because I need you to understand that I will stop at nothing to protect my people."

He moves towards her, deliberate and slow until the only thing separating them is a single supply crate. "And so,” he says then, eyes dark, “should you think of double-crossing us, you know exactly who is coming to kill you."

She tilts her head at him, clearly re-assessing the level of danger she is in, and something like recognition crosses her face as her gaze drops and catches on the Darksaber at his hip. Din gets the sudden and strange feeling that he must be reminding her of someone. 

"Are we clear?" Din presses, instead of dwelling on it, and after another second of deliberation the smirk returns to her lips and she nods.

"Yes, sir,” she confirms with a mock salute that he decides to let slide. “Crystal clear."

“Good,” Din says and takes a step back again, giving her room, his stance shifting into something casual and much less threatening. “Our main priorities are weapons and rations. I already have a smuggler that can get a hold of a couple more ships."

"Oh?” she perks up, already shrugging off any discomfort she might have felt. “Someone not in my employ? I'm intrigued."

"He is a--" Din pauses, for a second actually unsure of how to describe his relationship to Han. "--friend."

Qi’ra raises an eyebrow, "What's your friend's name then?"

"Han Solo."

She freezes for a second and then Din witnesses a lot of emotions pass over her face all at once, before the most prevalent one she seems to settle on is laughter.

"You know him?" Din asks with a frown, slightly thrown by how genuine her reaction seems to be.

"Depends,” she says, raining herself in again. “How much do you like him?"

Oh, he’s not sure he likes where this is going. Din sighs long and in a way that he supposes tells her all she needs to know. "He's my brother-in-law."

"Oh well then," Qi'ra grins, delighted. "I'm his ex-girlfriend."

She quickly becomes one of his most trusted advisors after that.

Their efforts to keep their relationship a secret fall apart eventually, about three months in. 

It happens just before their first actual battle, one they can’t avoid through stealth or trickery, and Din supposes he shouldn’t be surprised, neither by the inevitability of it nor by the fact that it’s he himself who breaks their charade in the end.

After all, all grand things shoved beneath a tight lid are bound to burst in time.

And he isn’t quite sure why it happens now, instead of on any of the stealth missions they’ve run so far, or any of the times it was nearly unbearable to stop himself from reaching out to Luke across the table, but there is something insistent that pulls at him now, that makes him feel like he can’t go a second longer without letting the universe know that they are one, that they could do anything, take out whole armies and bring worlds to their knees, as long as it’s the two of them, side by side.

So it’s then, right at that moment, just before they are about to drop, that Din stops Luke in the hold of the Mudhorn to press their foreheads together in front of everyone who holds even an ounce of power in their ranks.

“Wear it,” he says, fast and low, like the day he asked Luke to marry him. “Be mine.”

His heart is beating fast and violent in his chest, and for a second he feels as if he is about to drown in the urgency of his own emotions, but then he is caught by how Luke laughs in his arms, seemingly unfazed by the sudden open display of affection.

“I already am,” Luke says, his eyes soft, a fond smile on his lips, but his voice dips into something more serious as he adds, “I’ll always be.”

There is a short tense moment where Din realizes what he’s just done, what they’ve just done, that they might as well have spoken their vows again in that very moment, but then Paz lets out a long whooping cheer and he thinks he can hear Bo-Katan begrudgingly mutter finally, and that’s really all the time he gets to consider his impulsiveness before the ramp of the Mudhorn lowers and Luke has to scramble out of his arms to grab his armor.

When they step out on the battlefield together it's not just their movements that match now, but the colors of their armor too, red and white and black, imposing yet holding the promise of hope.

There are hushed whispers and stolen glances, but no one really disputes their union, something about it indisputable, undeniable, and it wouldn't have really mattered either way, in the end, because at that same battle, when Din goes down with a blaster burn to his side, Luke freezes the entire battlefield just to get to him. 

And latest at that point, Din thinks, as Luke leans over him, as he stops time just to heal the wound in his side, everyone in the galaxy and beyond would have known they are one.

They challenge him for it still, sometimes.

Some are disgruntled by the way Din chooses to spare life, to show mercy, whenever he can. Others are set off by how, of all the people in the galaxy, he chose to marry their one last remaining mortal enemy. Few just can’t be alone with their own thoughts, in the quiet lulls between battles.

"This is the way," the latest one screams at him as he charges.

"Banthashit," Din replies and punches him square in the face. 

In the end, Din becomes a king quickly, aided by the Darksaber and his willingness to fight, but it's only after nearly a year at war that he becomes a leader too.

Ironically, it's not his wins that cement his place with his people - not the numbers they gain by his insistence to spare life rather than take it, by his willingness to take in deserters and give second chances, and it's not the relationships he builds and the allies he makes with calm and quiet persistence, and not even his conviction to keep any fighting to a minimum, to prioritize their survival over everything else. 

Instead, it happens when they are confronted with their greatest loss. 

They are so close to victory, the last remnant Imperial finally driven off, their home within reach, feet already firmly on familiar ground, when they have to realize that Boba was right, that the Empire turned their planet into glass, that there is nothing to come home to, at least for a while.

It's then that he truly comes into his own, when he has to lead his people through the grief of realizing that there is nothing to return to, when he has to stand tall and show them that the creed is not bound to a place, that they can make a home, that they can thrive no matter where they are in the galaxy.

The Armorer’s training helps, and Luke’s quiet resolve does too, and in the end, he is not surprised that it's Boba who steps up and takes some of the more disgruntled of their people down to Tatooine, while the majority follows Din and Luke to settle in Yavin's ruins.

Bo-Katan’s expertise proves vital too and is given much less reluctantly than presumed, and Din realizes that it's a relief for her too, to be free of the burden of being the last of her line, to get a fresh start and build something of her own.

As Din stands at the back of the ruins hangar now, at the same spot he once told Luke ‘Not yet’, he can’t help but think about the Armorer’s words offered to him so long ago.

You can never be ready for a task like this, she had said, not if you intend to do it right.

He catches Luke’s smile from all the way across the room, just a quick reassuring glance before Luke is pulled away again by Koska, undoubtedly to be consulted on the best and most respectful way to settle into the ruins, his expertise now valued and sought out just as casually as Din’s would be.

And so, as he quietly watches over the business of his people settling into their new home, Din doesn’t think he is ready now either, but he knows that he can be humble, and kind, and a fierce warrior, and he’ll do everything in his power to keep protecting his own.

They both will.

Din wakes to an empty bed.

It takes him a second, but he sluggishly remembers that they are back on Naboo, in the house at the lake, exactly a year after the storm returned them home, after they started anew. That it’s the date they both deemed fitting for their anniversary.  

As he blinks awake now there is not a moment of panic, just calm washing over him, the knowledge that Luke won’t be far settled deep inside his chest, soothing like warm sand under his feet.

When he rolls over to his other side of the bed he can see him standing out on the balcony, his hands clasped behind his back and face raised towards the rising sun.

Din untangles himself from the sheets and walks up behind him slowly, gently pushing against the shared space in their mind to ask for permission, before he wraps his arms around Luke’s waist and pulls him close against his chest.

"Din," Luke says with a smile on his face, and Din’s heart stutters in his chest. He always says his name so casually now, as if it belongs to him.

"Another nightmare?" Din asks quietly as Luke lets his head fall back against Din’s shoulder, eyes closed against the sun on his face.

"Yea," Luke sighs but the smile is still on his lips as he leans further into Din. "But it's better now."

Din hums in acknowledgment and there is really nothing else to say, nothing he doesn’t already know by the way Luke feels resting in his arms. He leans down to bury his nose into Luke’s hair, because there is nothing that really stops him from doing that now.

“Something changed, didn’t it?” he asks after a while, because there is something different now, about the way Luke holds himself, about the way his thumb traces absent-minded patterns into the fabric of Din’s pants, about how he doesn’t shy away from Din’s touch.

Luke huffs a small laugh, eyes still closed. “You felt that, didn’t you?”

Din hums again and pulls his arms just a little tighter around Luke’s waist, one hand coming up to rest just below his heart. It beats steady beneath his palm, the fabric of Luke’s shirt warm against his skin. 

Luke seems to gather his thoughts for a while, just resting against Din, the vines that are growing up the balcony’s columns casting dancing shadows across his face. 

"I think I realized that maybe nothing is as easy as I wanted it to be,” he says finally, and it should sound alarming, but it sounds calm instead, content somehow. “And that maybe redemption isn’t something that just happens to you,” he sighs, “No one can just absolve me of the things I did, or of who I’ve become, not even my old masters."

“Did you ever ask them to?”

“In a way.”

"What did they say?"

"That I should follow the light.” 

"Did you find it?"

Luke goes quiet for a second, but then his eyes flutter open to find Din’s and he smiles, soft and quiet as if he was thinking of a private joke. 

"Yes," he says with a small laugh. "Yes, I think I did." 

Din can feel it then, passing between them, that light, can feel them bright against the emptiness of the universe, warm like the heat of twin rising suns and he can’t help but huff out a laugh too. 

Luke turns around in his arms then and steps away just a bit, until he can grab onto Din’s hand and gently lead him up the last remaining steps to the balcony’s balustrade. They stand quietly for a while, overlooking the lake as the sun slowly rises on the horizon, shoulder to shoulder, leaned into each other, as if now that they can it’s impossible for them not to touch.

"I don't really think I can be redeemed, either way," Luke says after a bit, on a long exhale. "There will always be darkness inside me. I’ll always have to consciously find that balance.”

Din startles for a second, worry rising in his chest but all he can feel over their bond is content and it lulls him back to a quiet peace. So he lets the words quietly sit between them instead, gives Luke room to feel the weight of his them.

Finally Luke turns to him with a small smile. “But you know,” he says, something final in his voice, something hopeful, “maybe that's just fine."

Din stretches out his hand between them, palm up and Luke takes it, laces their fingers together with a satisfied sigh. "I think that’s all we can really do in life anyway,” Din says after a moment of contemplation. ”Move forward."

It’s such a simple thought, but he lets himself consider it then for a moment, and he thinks about how deeply he truly believes it.

Because he knows they can't control what's about to happen but they can choose to move forward together and he knows that they will have to wake up and make that conscious choice every day, but he also knows that the more they do it the easier it will get and the more it will feel natural, the more it will feel right.

It's just one step every day, away from the past and towards something new and it might seem small, but eventually what they left behind will be in the distance, there but less ominous, less pressing, and the things they’ve found are right beside them for whatever is about to come.

"Ah," Luke says and Din can hear a hint of amusement in his voice, as if he somehow heard Din’s inner monologue, and yea, actually he probably did.

"What?"

"Nothing."

"Luke."

Luke lets out a soft laugh. "It's just-- that's a very Jedi thing of you to say."

“Take that back or I’ll make you recite the resol'nare,” Din huffs, but it’s just as playful.

“Oh?” Luke raises a suggestive eyebrow. “And how would you make me do that, Mand’alor?”

Din doesn’t answer, just picks Luke up right where he stands and carries him back to bed instead, both of them laughing all the way until their heads hit the pillow and they shut each other up with a kiss.

When they are done figuring out their place in the universe, they start living their life instead. A conscious effort, something deliberate they build only for themselves.

Luke tries to explain it to him once, in great detail, when they are wrapped into each other in the quiet of the night, Grogu snoring softly against Din’s chest. He tells him how the Force flows through every living thing, how they are all luminous beings, and he admits quite sheepishly how it was really inevitable that they found each other again when they did, how Luke’s constant thought of him must have slowly bent the universe around them to his will.

Din isn't sure he fully understands any of that, but what he understands is that he can feel Luke against him as a warm and comforting pressure, even when they are miles apart, and that he can soothe Luke’s worrying mind with nothing but a smile and a nod of his head.

And so he thinks that all he really needs to understand is that he's never felt as right as when he has Grogu on his lap and Luke sitting across from him, their ankles hooked into each other, that he's never felt as whole as when he turns around at night to Luke's face pressed into his back. 

He definitely knows that they are one now, as he watches Luke walk up to where Din is sitting on the meadow behind Shara’s house, recounting some of their most daring adventures to an excited gaggle of foundlings and padawans alike. 

Luke has three of the older padawans in tow, all of them still vibrating with the energy of working through their morning katas as they plop down into the grass between the other kids. 

Finn and Rey immediately scoot up so close to Poe and Rose that they are all practically in each other's lap, trading playful shoves and leaning closer as if the four of them hadn’t seen each other merely an hour ago. 

Armitage on the other hand pretends to not be interested as usual, even though Din knows for a fact that this is his favorite story. His dismissive attitude promptly earns him a rough shove from Ben, who hisses at him from beneath his helmet, always ready to fight anyone he perceives as disrespectful to the creed.

"Careful, Ben," Armitage sneers back and Luke wisely chooses exactly this moment to plop Grogu down into Ben's lap, instantly pacifying both of them with their shared love for the child.

"That's not how that went," Luke protests Din’s accounts of their trip to Mustafar, as he settles down beside him, easily directing the attention back on them. "I did not need to be rescued.”

"Cyar’ika, love of my life," Din says, with mock exasperation and stretches out his hand between them so Luke can lace their fingers together. "You could barely stand upright. You could not have won a fight against lava ."

"Oh, I could absolutely have taken the lava," Luke says with a mixture of humor and sincerity that never ceases to make a warm fondness spread in Din’s chest. “And you have no ground to stand on, you once fist fought a TIE.”

“And I won,” Din points out, "but this was kriffin’ lava, even if you tried..."

"Do or do not--” Luke starts.

“--there is no try," the children finish in unison.

Din rolls his eyes towards the sky, but he doesn’t try very hard to keep the fondness out of his voice. "I told you if you quote that frog one more time, I’m sending you on a diplomatic mission with Bo."

"That frog is the same species as our son,” Luke scolds with a laugh, just as Ben covers Grogu’s ears with a scandalized tilt of his helmet. “Show some respect." 

Din lets out a resigned huff and the rest of the children burst out into giggles of various degrees of intensity, a small grin tugging even at corners of Armitage’s lips. It’s domestic in a way that a lot of the things in their life are now, a fact Din thinks he doesn’t mind at all.

And so, as Din sits here, on the meadow, in their home, with Luke right beside him, surrounded by their weird mismatched family of hundreds, he thinks that most of all he knows that Luke feels it too, their bond, overwhelming and bright and steady and precious and warm. 

Luke squeezes his hand as if he heard him, and shoots him a quick smile, small and casual, and Din knows that what matters most, in the end, is that it means that neither of them will ever have to feel alone again.