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Din wakes slowly the day after they return from the other Jedi temple. Not late, particularly, but gently. He's not disturbed by an emergency or a hungry child or his own normal routine; instead he wakes to soft sunlight and the distant sound of birdsong.
His bed, his room, in his home; he never thought these things would be his, or that finding them would mean so much, but he lies there for a moment and simply enjoys feeling comfortable.
Grogu's low-strung hammock is empty, and the door is just ajar. It doesn't alarm him. He can hear voices, too distant to make out words, and the clink of plates or cutlery. It is all familiar, safe. Grogu must have climbed - or floated - down, Force-opened the door and gone to demand breakfast from Luke. Luke wouldn't have come in to get him, because he never enters without knocking or while Din is asleep. It's one of the things they never need to talk about, that they simply trust in.
It's just another morning, except for the ways that it isn't. Din thinks about the feel of Luke's hand in his, the intimacy of his forehead pressed to Luke's, and...
And it's not a question, any more. He knows, at last, what he wants to do.
He rolls out of bed and dresses before heading for the fresher for his morning ablutions. The face that looks back at him from the mirror is both familiar and strange. Din has never spent much time considering his own appearance, because his helmet has always felt as true a reflection of who he is as the face under it. Perhaps more so, for the helmet is a manifestation of his choice, his way of life, revealing as much as it hides to those who understand what they are looking at.
It's never really occurred to him to have an opinion on his face, to wonder what someone might see if they looked at it, but he tries to see it now. He sees the sleep-messed hair and the tiredness of his eyes; the unshaven scruff across his jaw and the lines beginning to creep in with age.
He wonders what Luke saw in it, that day on the cruiser; what he would see, if he saw it again.
It's easy to feel uncertainty when he looks at himself, but he doesn't think Luke would look at him and see such things as flaws. Not when Din himself sees Luke looking sleepy and unshaven and feels only fond, or sees the faint lines around Luke's eyes and mouth simply as evidence of challenges overcome and laughter so freely given. Luke's face is handsome, but it is dear to Din for so much more than that.
At any rate, this is the only face Din has, and there's not much to be done about it. He fills his cupped hands with cool water several times to drench his face in an effort to wake up properly, and rubs his whole head over with the towel. He hesitates a moment longer, studying himself, before slipping the helmet back on, the face the rest of the galaxy sees.
It is his Creed. That is what he has come to, in all these months of thought. It might not be the Way of the Mandalore, of the Children of the Watch; nor yet is it the way of Bo-Katan and the Mandalorians with her. Din is Mandalorian by right and by choice, and his armour is his own, earned and honoured. It is not a betrayal nor a weakness to change. He lived as he needed to for the covert, and that was his choice. Now he has a new responsibility, something he never planned or expected but that he has also chosen, every step of the way, and he wants to live differently now.
Being known, truly and completely known, would have been a dangerous thought once. It still would be, anywhere else in the galaxy. But here he has already set aside every other defence, and he does not regret any of them. Luke and Grogu have never once shied away. Already Luke knows him better than he has ever been known before, and he wants to hand him the rest.
The thought is both thrilling and nerve-wracking. But as he leaves the room, dressed in soft clothes and one of the pairs of impractically thick socks Luke has given him, he hears Luke make an exaggerated gasp and Grogu begins to giggle, and Din finds himself smiling.
Is this what it is, he wonders, to wake up every day and have a family?
"Good morning," he says softly as he enters their little living room.
Luke must have known he was coming, of course, but he still looks up and smiles at Din as if his mere arrival is something wonderful. It is a look Din has seen many mornings, and would never tire of.
"Good morning," Luke answers cheerfully, lowering the toy bantha that has apparently been battling in midair with Grogu's stuffed frog, for reasons known only to the pair of them. Grogu grabs and waves his frog at Din in greeting, and he crouches down to run his fingers over Grogu's head in reply.
"Hey, kid," he says, and - as it always does - the moment of connection and contact with Grogu fills him with the sense that everything is as it should be.
Whatever happens, however Luke reacts, he doesn't really need to be afraid. He may not get all he hopes for, but he knows he won't lose what he already has, which would be enough to make him happy all his life. When he first came here, he was convinced any misstep would have him forbidden to ever see his kid again, but he knows better now. He knows Luke now.
"Luke, can I talk to you?"
He puts a slight weight on the words, tilting his head slightly towards the next room, trying to convey that he means alone without making Grogu realise he's being left out of something. Luke looks curious, but he nods, and hands the bantha over to Grogu.
"Look after this for me, okay?" he says solemnly, and Grogu - because he can never have too many toys, as they have amply learned - hugs it close along with his frog.
Din rubs his little hand gently. "We'll be back soon," he assures Grogu, then leads the way into the next room. It's one of the smaller training spaces, with wide windows overlooking Luke's vegetable garden and low benches lining the walls.
Maybe it's the effect of so long raising the kid, but it feels natural to settle onto the floor in a patch of sun. For all that this is one of the most significant things he's ever decided to do, there's no need to stand on ceremony in his own home.
Luke sits down opposite him without question, barely half a foot away. It has become so natural to be this close to one another, despite how large the temple is.
"Is everything alright?" Luke asks, gaze steady on the visor like he can already see Din's face through it.
"Yes," he says, and means it. "I want to show you my face."
It's hardly the most pressing thought at hand, but Din can't help being a little delighted to catch Luke off guard. Luke doesn't know the future, for all that he has the occasional premonition, but he does have a remarkable ability to roll with whatever life throws at him. Right now, though, Din has literally rendered him wide-eyed and speechless.
"I've been considering my Creed," Din says, taking pity on him. He hasn't, after all, shared his full journey on this with Luke; parts of it felt too private until he was sure how he felt himself. "I plan to make my own Way, just as you are adapting your own Code for the Jedi. I don't intend to show my face in public, but I want to choose those who I can remove the helmet around. Grogu - and you."
"Din," Luke breathes, and he sounds awed. "I - I would be honoured, but you don't have to. I wouldn't ask it of you."
"I know. But I want you to know me."
There is something in Luke's face that is tender, too complex for words, like some kind of fierce, wild joy. "I already do."
And the strange thing is that Din thinks that might be true, but he wants more anyway.
He reaches up, bare hands steady against the cool beskar, the last piece of armour he has kept on here, and pulls it off his head.
Making the decision to do this has been hard, and it's something he's thought about for a long time. Actually doing it, as it turns out, is the easiest thing in the world.
It doesn't feel momentous. It feels as natural as removing the helmet in private, like this is something Luke has always been meant to see.
Din sets the helmet down on the bench, fingers lingering a moment on the shining beskar before he brings himself to meet Luke's eyes.
Din has found before that although the helmet gives him far more information than most have to perceive their surroundings, there is also something that it takes away. This hasn't bothered him since the earliest months of wearing it when he was young; he is far more used to the world seen through the helmet than without it, now.
But in this moment he thinks maybe he has been missing something after all. Luke looks the same, of course he does, and yet... He is more vibrant. His eyes seem a truer blue, his skin warmer, his hair a richer gold in the sunlight. He is as he has always been, yet he is also more.
And he is looking at Din with something he can only describe as wonder.
Luke's eyes trace across his face, taking in his features with such gentle care. His fingers twitch like they long to learn Din's face too, but he doesn't reach out, never takes more than Din openly offers.
He doesn't know what to expect, all the same, and Luke surprises him as he always does.
"Thank you."
Din tilts his head. He's so used to expressing himself through movement that it only occurs to him afterwards that his confusion must already be clear on his face. "For what?"
"For trusting me with yourself."
And here it is again, that emotion that has been growing in him longer than he's had a name for it, everything that came to a head days ago when he realised he might lose Luke. It is sweet and hopeful and wistful and the greatest thing he's ever known; it makes him feel weaker and stronger, it doesn't make sense but - like so many things Din has discovered recently - it doesn't need to make sense to be true.
"I love you, Luke."
This, more than anything else Din has ever said, brings Luke to silence. There is still wonder in his face but a vulnerability too, like a tree uncurling fragile new leaves to meet the coming spring.
"I never thought I'd feel like this," Din says, and the words come in an unexpected rush now that he's begun, held back for so long. "I never planned for any of it. Never imagined I'd end up here. But I want to stay. Here. With you. For as long as it's my choice to make, this is what I choose."
Luke looks like he's about to burst - like he's a heartbeat away from glowing, which for all Din knows might be something else Jedi can actually do. And Din might have expected that saying so much would feel like ripping his own bloody heart from his chest - but it doesn't. He's entrusted something to Luke that he knows, no matter whether Luke returns the feeling, will be safe with him.
"Din," Luke begins, and for once he sounds breathless, this man who never seems the least bit winded by hours of fighting.
Din wants to let him talk, is desperate to know what he might say, but there is something else he has to put out there first. He wants Luke to know all of him before he makes his reply.
"Luke, before you - before we... There's something you need to know." Din feels lost, for a moment, about how to say it all. There is a part of him that would rather shoot off his own arm than say this, but they cannot go forward without it, and he knows he wants to go forward with Luke. "This is - hard," he says, falteringly. "I've not talked about this before, to anyone."
Luke shuffles closer until their legs are pressed together, linking their hands in the space between them. He doesn't speak, and there's no hint of impatience on his face; he looks prepared to wait as long as it takes.
"The Creed, the armour," Din says, feeling a rush of warmth that becomes strength. "It kept me from certain experiences, from... the kinds of physical connection that are second nature to many people. But I never missed it. I've never wanted most of that. I still don't. That doesn't change how I feel about you. But I know that might not be what you want in a... partnership."
It's always been in him, this feeling, though it was a long time before he understood it. A sense of otherness, of being different, that blended into dedication to his Creed so well that it was years before he understood the distinction. It is another way in which he has always felt a step out of sync with most of those he meets, but at the same time it does not exactly bother him - it is simply a facet of who he is, and he'd never expected it to become relevant to anyone else anyway. Now there is Luke, and for the first time in his life he wants to do no less than give the full truth of himself over to someone else.
He can't read Luke's reaction on his face. Or perhaps he can, though he's not quite sure he can believe it, because Luke simply looks peaceful, joyful, fond.
"What do you want?" Luke asks softly.
Less than most people, Din supposes, but it feels like infinitely more than he can conceive, more than he ever thought the universe could offer.
Din shifts forward, up onto his knees. Luke moves with him without hesitation and it brings them close, so close that Din can see the flecks of colour in Luke's eyes. He frees one hand and brings it up slowly. He brushes soft hair back from Luke's forehead, touches his fingers so delicately against his cheek. Luke presses his eyes shut for a moment, and the blue shines when he opens them again, as overwhelmed as Din feels.
Din presses his forehead to Luke's. The sensation is so different without the helmet. The contact on his skin is indescribable, a connection he only now realises he has craved. He pulls back to place a kiss on Luke's forehead, feather-light, and Luke's skin is soft against his lips. Luke cups a hand around Din's jaw, thumb brushing against his cheek, and the touch is like electricity, flight, free-fall. He feels raw and healed at once, an impossible and beautiful juxtaposition. Din presses a kiss to the corner of Luke's mouth and it becomes a moment suspended in time, already fixed in his memory, precious and everlasting.
"This," he murmurs, open as he has never been before. He has brought out all the courage he possesses today and he lays all he is before Luke. "You. Always."
"I'm yours." Luke says it like a promise, like a vow, like it echoes with forever.
And that's all he could want, all he hoped for, and yet... "Luke, it's alright if it's not enough, if you don't-"
"Din, I love you too."
The words both steal his breath and light him up at once, and he doesn't doubt them because he can feel that it's true, sense the wave of emotion Luke has released to him, the declaration singing out into the Force. Din feels full of it, sustained by it, like this emotion itself is air and water and food; this alone could see him through the length of his life. Luke loves him.
"I love you as you are, for all that you are. I want to be with you, in whatever way that means. I've had physical relationships before, but that's not what's most important to me. I wouldn't trade a thousand lifetimes of them for one with you." Luke's hand moves down to Din's chest, presses firmly above his heart. "This, you, the family we've got here? This is all I need. All I want. Love is always enough for me, Din. And I love you."
There must be tears in his eyes, or else the world is blurring on its own; Din doesn't care. He pulls Luke into an embrace and they hold so tight to each other, and it is safety and belonging and coming home.
Din has never been loved like this before. He didn't know it would feel like this. He didn't know acceptance could be so freely given, that he alone could be all someone wanted. But then he would do anything for Luke, kill or save or live; would give up everything to be wherever he and Grogu are. Perhaps this is all Luke has ever wanted too - to love and be loved, to have a family and a home all his own, to be loved exactly as he is.
Din has not hugged anyone except his son since he was a child himself. There hasn't been anyone he's trusted like this, cared for so dearly. Being so close to Luke feels right; he may not want a more intimate connection but he wants this; now that he knows what it's like he feels suddenly greedy, desperate, like he might never let go. He wants to be this close to Luke always, to share the same space, breathe the same air. His face is pressed into Luke's neck, skin to warm skin, and he can smell traces of shampoo in Luke's hair. It's mundane and it's everything.
"What now?" Din finds himself saying, breathing the words into Luke's skin. "What are we now, what do we do?" This is so far beyond his own experience of life, like nothing he's done before, that he has no frame of reference. Families forge lives on planets across the galaxy, he's passed them every day, but he knows nothing of the minutia of that way of life, only the danger. He doesn't know how his parents managed together, not as more than vague memories. And he and Luke are in a situation less conventional than most, anyway, given who and where they are.
Luke shifts and they pull apart a little, though only a few inches. Luke seems to have no more desire to be apart than Din. He's smiling, that little smile that Din thinks of as his, and he only now realises that what it holds is love.
"Whatever we choose," he says. "There's no plan here. We do what we always do, I guess, but we know that we can do it all together. And we check Grogu's not destroyed anything while we've been in here."
We are one when together...
We will raise warriors.
The memory comes from somewhere deep, ancient words Luke doesn't know nonetheless echoing in what he says. And Din thinks, not today, but one day, perhaps. They might find vows they wish to make to each other. They might want them in the future, but they don't need them. Not when Din can feel that promise in his heart anyway, and see it written on Luke's face, in the unfaltering press of his hands.
Love is enough.
Perhaps Grogu was waiting by the door to hear his name, because the patter of tiny feet is all the warning they have before little hands press into their legs, insistent and demanding. Luke laughs and Din is smiling as they look down to where Grogu is reaching to be lifted up. The kid looks impatient but Din can sense his understanding and delight, and even a touch of... smugness? That can't be right. He'll have to ask Luke later.
Din picks Grogu up carefully, and Luke brushes a kiss against his soft little head. Grogu burbles happily then tugs on Din's sleeve until he repeats the gesture.
It is a family. Small, and unique, but theirs.
When Luke takes Grogu for his lessons, Din goes with them. Later, when they go for a walk, he puts his helmet back on but holds Luke's hand. Later still they eat together, for the first time, around their table, and Din relearns what it is to share a meal with those he loves. That evening they both put Grogu to bed, settling him into his hammock with stories and half-remembered songs.
And they sit together in the night, lit by a gently flickering fire and starlight that flows bright through the windows, and they share quiet words and soft touches and know what it is to be loved.