#kappa writes

The thought is almost too much and he grips the controls tight enough he can hear the leather in his gloves creak.

Cobb is dead, and Din has to move on with his life.

He can’t replay their last conversation, what he would’ve said if he knew that was their last conversation. He has to think about Grogu and the darksaber still heavy on his belt. He can’t linger on thoughts he barely got to form about Cobb’s smile, his laugh, how his words made him feel.

Those thoughts would leave him. He has experience with this. Din is no stranger to loss, he knows there will be a day he doesn’t think about Cobb when he sees a stranger with a red scarf or smells the dry air or a desert.

There’s a tapping on the glass behind him. He looks up to see Grogu’s big eyes staring down at him.

Right, Ahsoka had mentioned something with the... Force and feelings. It all went over Din’s head

“Don’t worry, Grogu,” he says, glancing up enough in an attempt to make eye contact, “I’ll be okay.”

Someone shoves his right shoulder, lighting up his whole body with pain. It’s easy to pretend to be limp.

There are footsteps away from him, voices drifting as they talk about prices and buyers already lined up. He waits for the hiss of the door shutting before letting a groan eek from his lips.

He squints open his eyes, opening them fully when the lights don’t give him a headache immediately. Hopefully, that means no concussion.

He looks around. He’s tied to a chair, arms behind the back, his feet tied to the legs. It looks like any room on Tatooine, dust and sand cling to the corners, the walls are hewn from the rock, furniture that’s third-hand at the best. Nothing in here to indicate who has him.

He’s lost track of the people he’s pissed off anyway, so he lets go of the “who” question and focuses on how he’s going to get out of here.

Memories come in fits and starts as he starts pulling at his bindings. Din had left for Sorgan yesterday, promising to tell Omera hello from Cobb. Issa had returned from Mos Eisley that evening, leaving his pining to a minimum. They shared a bottle of spotchka on the porch and then blaster fire exploded out of nowhere before everything got hazy.

He hopes Issa got out safely.

Cobb grunts in pain as he tries pulling at his bindings again, only aggravating the old injury to his shoulder. Something wet trickles down his fingers and he can only hope he isn’t bleeding elsewhere.

He’s about to try and see if he can loosen the bonds on his feet when the door opens. Before he can pretend to be unconscious again, a person comes flying through the partially open door. He flinches at the sudden loud noises, shouts and blaster fire fill the room, even if he can’t see past the door.

A silhouette fills the doorway, all gleaming armor and familiar lines. He stares as Din, silhouetted, pulls out the dark saber, its otherworldly hum flooding Cobb’s senses.

He must black out for a second because suddenly, the sounds of fighting are gone and there’s a woman in front of him. He blinks, and it takes him a while to place her face, not used to seeing her in armor.

“Omera? Wha-” he croaks, immediately coughing as his dry throat seizes up.

A flask appears in front of him and he grabs it – his hands having been cut free at some point – and he drinks greedily, some of it spilling out of his mouth and down his throat.

Everything feels a little more grounded with the water in him. Omera’s features turn clearer, the slope of her cheeks, her braid in disarray, the armor she’s wearing, blaster at her hip.

“What are you doing here?” he manages to ask.

“Freetown called Din as soon as you were taken. You- you were going to be ransomed off. I wanted to come with.”

He feels a tugging at his leg and looks down, realizing Din is knelt at his feet, a bottle of bacta spray beside him as he cuts away Cobb’s pant leg. He hadn’t even realized his leg needed medical attention. Din glances up at him, but quickly returns his attention back down.

He looks back to Omera. “Are they okay? Is Freetown okay?”

She nods. “Yes, you were the only target.”

He’s still taking everything in when Omera lets out a shaky breath and he realizes she’s crying, her body shuddering beside him.

“Thank the gods you’re okay,” she whispers.

Before he can comment, Omera takes the back of his head in one hand and pulls him in close. He stills as her lips brush his hairline. His eyes flutter shut, one part out of exhaustion, one part how it feels like her lips have a direct connection to his heart. He feels warmer, more himself.

The feeling goes away as he feels her freeze against him.

“Cobb, I’m sorry, I-”

He holds up a hand, throat now thick with something else.

He doesn’t remember much of how he got here, but he does remember how Din chose Sorgan for Cobb’s first trip off planet; Omera’s kindness as she showed him the krill farms for the first time, her laughter at his jokes, how Din stared at the two of them with open want even thought the helmet. He remembers promises to show her and Winta around Tatooine, how Winta couldn’t fathom the idea of endless deserts and their laughter over her indignation. He remembers how the two of them ogled at Din, laughing at the similarities of how they both fell for him.

“No apologies,” he says. His hand gropes at her side, until he finds her hand. The kiss he presses to her knuckles isn’t perfect, but he’s amazed he’s still conscious, so he’ll take it.

Din stands up and Cobb suddenly realizes those first kisses had an audience. But Din doesn’t look uncomfortable, the lines of his armor reading more of contentment than stress.

“We should head out. We all need to rest.”

He holds out a hand, which Cobb takes. Din helps him up slowly, not risking lightheadedness or wobbly knees. He leans heavily against Din’s armor, which is still warm from the heat of battle. Cobb’s heart suddenly feels like it’s going to overflow, so he leans the side of his head against Din’s. Din stills for a moment before tightening his grip on Cobb’s shoulders, pressing back against his forehead in a gesture Cobb is definitely familiar with.

“Let’s get you out of here,” Din says quietly.

He was allowed to be excited on his wedding day, after all.

He didn’t know it was to be his wedding when he woke up, however. His day had started as normal, waking up to a keldabe kiss against the cold metal of Din’s helmet. That was the last moment of peace either of them got until they managed to corral the younglings out of bed and into the kitchen for breakfast. He and Din didn’t get the chance to have their own breakfast until the kids ran out to enjoy early morning playtime “supervised” by Artoo.

It was then, with Luke blindfolded so Din could enjoy the cup of caf that was brewing, that Din had taken his hand and asked him, as simple as he could be.

“Luke? Will you marry me?”

And after a year of conversation, prying back their layers, meditation on the meaning of attachments, well, how else could Luke react?

“Yes!”

They had a few minutes to plan by themselves. They agreed to wait until that evening, when the kids would be too tired to get in the way and the Yavin sun bathed the Temple in gorgeous red-orange light.

It was only after spending the day half-paying attention to his surroundings had he realized the error of that plan. He hadn’t been able to focus on meditating and had focused on his student’s forms instead. Whenever he heard the telltale clink of beskar, his ears flicked erratically until he gave into the urge to look and see Din walking by. He felt like he was a farm boy on Tatooine again as he smiled, face flushing as Din nodded, sharp and jerky. The interaction was no different than every other day of running the school by Din’s side, but it felt different.

The kids had to say his name three times to get his attention back on the lesson.

But now, it was time. The kids were all sleepy after dinner, most reading or piling up on the count to watch a holo-documentary. Luke was just pacing back and forth in front of the Temple, waiting for Din to come back with Grogu. He wanted his son there for the ceremony and Luke was only happy to acquiesce.

Luke brushed off his robes, only then realizing he hadn’t changed. His pants were covered in dirt, the hem of his cloak gathering the worst of it.

He barely had time to comb his fingers through his hair to tame it before his ears flicked back. He turned to the sound of approaching footsteps to see Din returning with a squirming Grogu. He could see Din’s own sleek dark gray tail bumping under his cape. Grogu cooed loudly, and Luke looked up and smiled at the two of them.

Din stopped a step away from him. As impressive as he looked in his armor, Luke took a little solace in the holes at the bottom of his cape and the sticky handprint on the piece of armor strapped to his leg.

Neither of them needed to look their best for their wedding. All they needed was each other.

“So… do you want to do this in Mando’a?”

Din tilted his head. “Do you know Mando’a?”

Luke felt the tips of his ears warm up. “I… might’ve looked it up during lunch.”

Din gave a short laugh that made Luke’s heart pound a little harder.

“It’s okay. I only know the Resol’nare. We can say it in Basic.”

“Okay… how do we do this?”

Din shifted his hold on Grogu so he could take one of Luke’s hands.

“Just repeat after me. We are one when together.”

Luke nodded. “We are one when together.”

“We are one when parted.”

Luke could feel his breaths grow deep as emotion clogged his throat. “We are one when parted.”

“We will share all.”

“We will share all.”

Din squeezed his hand as he said the last vow. “We will raise warriors."

He had to whisper the last line. “We will raise warriors."

Everything seemed to settle as the silence fell between them, like the universe made right. Luke was going to linger on the feeling, savor it so he could meditate on it and never forget it, when Din let go of his hand to hold onto Grogu.

“Here, hold him for a moment.”

Luke took Grogu automatically, not realizing what Din was doing until he had both hands on his helmet.

“Wait!” Luke exclaimed, pausing Din in his movements. “You don’t have to if you don’t want to. I mean, I want to see your face, but only if you want to.”

Din lowered his arms just to gently hold the back of Luke’s head. “Can’t you read my mind with the Force?”

Luke huffed out a laugh. “You know I can’t do that.”

“But you can tell though, that I want to show you, right?”

He was right. The Force radiated reassurance off of him. He wasn’t doing this for Luke, he wanted to do it.

Luke nodded, hitching Grogu up higher in his arms.

Din lifted his helmet and the breath caught in his throat.

Dark brown eyes, curly brown hair, and a mustache that made Luke smile.

“Maker, Din, I-”

He cut himself off as he caught slight movement in Din’s curls.

“You can touch,” Din said. “Just… they’re sensitive.”

Luke nodded before bringing a hand up to Din’s head. He found the extra soft fur surrounding the ears. They were dark gray like his tail, but folded over so the tips touched his skull. He gently stroked the base of one and saw Din’s shoulder’s twitch in a shiver.

“Oh, you poor thing. Are they uncomfortable in the helmet?”

“No, they grew in like that. It’s cramped but doesn’t hurt.”

Luke nodded absentmindedly, still feeling around the top of his head. Din leaned into his touch, eyes closed.

“Is this okay?” he asked softly.

“Yeah, just… sensitive.”

“If you want to touch mine, you can.”

“But I already have.”

“Well, then you can again.”

Din rolled his eyes – and Luke could see that now – but his gloved hand still found its way to Luke’s ears. He let out a slight purr as Din touched them. He was gentler than most, but he didn’t treat them like he was made of glass. Luke was just used to the ruffling and scratching of Han and Chewie and Leia tugging on them to get his attention. Din gently folded his ears in his hand when giving Luke’s ears attention.

He felt Grogu shift in his arms as he climbed up on his shoulder, pulling at his cloak to reach Luke’s other ear. He winced a little at the tiny claws, but the children were all getting better at handling his ears.

Din cracked open his eyes, shining with quiet joy, and was about to say something when they both heard Artoo’s screeching from the Temple. They both turned and saw Artoo covered in younglings who wanted a ride.

Grogu saw as well and started wiggling to escape and join them. Luke put him down and watched as he toddled away.

They turned to each other, a small smile on both of their faces.

“Pick this up tonight?” Din asked.

“Whatever you say, husband.”

Artoo screeched again and Luke shook his head fondly. He walked back to the Temple before stopping in his tracks.

“Oh, I nearly forgot!” He said, jogging back.

Din was halfway to putting his helmet back on, but his wide brown eyes met Luke’s in an instant - and oh, he was utterly charmed by them.

“What?”

Luke pressed a gentle kiss to Din’s cheek. He turned to move but was held in place by Din’s arm.

“I think we can do better on our wedding.”

Luke grinned before they both moved in close for a kiss. He cupped his hands over Din’s cheeks, letting his thumbs stroke over Din’s beard. Din’s arms wrapped around his waist, landing just above Luke’s tail, which stood straight up.

Din’s sharp teeth as he bit into Luke’s lip. It lit a fire in his gut and he pulled Din closer, cupping the back of his head. The purred in tandem, deep vibrations coming from their chests that just made them clutch at each other tighter.

Artoo let out another screech, more persistent this time. They pulled back as Luke started laughing. Din kept his mirth to himself, but Luke could see in those expressive eyes that he found the droid amusing.

“Tonight?” Luke asked, a touch out of breath.

“Tonight,” Din said, voice deeper than normal.

Luke pressed one more kiss to Din’s lips before taking his hand and walking back to the Temple with him. Din slipped his helmet back on.