#nevarro

Glancing up from the disassembled fan spread out across the dining room table, Din was overwhelmed by guilt at the sight of the captain lounging on the couch, her forearm thrown over her head and her eyes squeezed shut in discomfort as her free hand caressed her protruding belly; now over nine months pregnant, (Y/N) was only a week away from her estimated due date and growing increasingly uncomfortable in her own skin, plagued by sporadic contractions, bouts of nausea and insomnia. Buying a top-of-the-line fan had been Din’s attempt at making the storm season more tolerable for her but in their moment of need, the fan sputtered out and sent him into a simmering fit of rage, his desperation to help his suffering wife driving him to attempt fixing a piece of machinery he couldn’t make heads or tails of.

Din stood, swallowing his frustration at his own failure as he dampened a washcloth in the kitchen sink and moved to kneel beside the couch, wiping the sweat from her brow with the softest of touches. “Alor’ad, please forgive me.”

“Whatever for?” (Y/N) asked, opening her eyes and giving him an inquisitive look. “I’m the one who couldn’t bear to leave my little nest here for a couple of days, not you. I guess this is what I get for thinking my Naboo blood stands a chance against Nevarro’s delightful weather patterns.” Her half-hearted joke was met with silence and her lips turned downwards as she reached up and caressed his jaw with her fingertips. “Sweetheart? C’mon, you can talk to me…”

“I should be doing more to help you.” Din, avoiding his wife’s sympathetic gaze, folded the washcloth to drape across her forehead and rested a palm against the swell of her stomach; their baby was restless beneath his touch, shifting around and kicking out with a strength that always took him by surprise. “Every minute of every day for the past nine months, you’ve been giving life to our child. The stronger they grow, the more strain you’ve been put under and the more helpless I’ve felt. The very least I could do was provide you with a kriffing fan to help you endure the storm season, but I couldn’t even do that.”

The captain smiled patiently while he offloaded his burden of guilt onto her, waiting until he was finished to slide her hand down to press against the center of his chest. “Din, you’ve spent every minute of every day for the past nine months helping me; whether it’s been getting up in the middle of the night because of another one of my strange food cravings, taking charge of Grogu’s lessons to give me a little time to rest or just holding my hand through every doctor’s appointment, you’ve been right here by my side every step of the way.”

“But the fan-”

“You tried to fix it and the moment you realized you couldn’t, you immediately brought me a cool washcloth instead. Thanks to you, I don’t feel like my skin’s melting off anymore,” (Y/N) pointed out with a good-natured laugh. “You’re doing everything right, sweetheart, I promise. Try to be easier on yourself, okay? For me?”

Din’s shoulders sagged as he allowed himself to relax into his wife’s comforting touch. “I will. Thank you for reminding me again, alor’ad.” His thumb rubbed gentle circles across her bump and his lips twitched upwards when he felt their baby’s movements beneath his palm. “Our ad’ika must be excited to meet their beautiful mother.”

“You’re sweet, ner cyar’ika riduur, but I don’t feel particularly beautiful right now.” (Y/N) grimaced when the baby landed a particularly hard kick against her stomach. “Your child keeps treating my spine like one of those null-grav trampolines.”

“My child, huh? How come they’re only my child whenever they’re kicking you?”

“Because I’m the pregnant one and I said so.”

Din chuckled. “I suppose that’s only fair.” His smile vanished and his brows pinched together in concern when a pained gasp escaped the captain’s lips. “Ad’ika, be gentle with your mother,” He lightly scolded, slipping a hand beneath his wife’s back and pressing his fingers along her spine until she released a sigh of relief. “Does that feel better?”

Nodding, (Y/N) propped herself up on her elbows and worked on regaining her breath. “I think that prodromal labor might be worse than a blaster shot to the bone.”

“The med droids said that completing a meditation session can help to ease their discomfort…” Din suggested, schooling his expression to mask his trepidation regarding the droids’ involvement in (Y/N)’s birth plan. “Did you wanna give it a try while I fix you some lunch?”

With another nod, the captain allowed him to help her maneuver into a sitting position, her smile of gratitude morphing into a frustrated frown as she started pushing herself off the couch. “Put a pin in that, sweetheart, it’s time to visit the ‘fresher…again.”

Din pressed a sympathetic kiss onto her brow and watched her waddle away down the hallway to the refresher, waiting to hear the sliding door close before turning and heading to the kitchen. “Grogu?” The child, who was perched on the counter and meticulously polishing his beskar rondel, looked up with an inquiring coo that made Din smile. “Why don’t you take a break from cleaning your armor to meditate with your mother? I’ll fix you two some soup for afterwards, okay?”

“Patu,” Grogu readily agreed, hopping off the counter and hurrying to take his usual seat on the couch, leaving a chuckling Din to fold his cleaning rag and carefully set his rondel aside; while Din handled the more physical aspects of the child’s training, his little apprentice preferred to meditate with his mother, enjoying the moments of calm they shared and focusing in such a way that Din could hardly believe he was the same rambunctious child they had to scold for chasing Kowakian monkey-lizards and spoiling his dinner with stolen cookies. If only he focused that intently on his weapons training as well, he thought to himself with a smile as he began filling their stock pot with water.

Thunder rumbled and shook the very foundation of their cabin and a downpour of rain pelted the roof overhead, loud enough to put Din on edge and begin resurfacing the all too familiar memory of losing his parents on Aq Vetina. Squeezing his eyes shut, Din took a deep breath and forced the memory out of his mind, concentrating instead on the fragrant oppim incense wafting in from the living room, the softness of the cotton shirt (Y/N) had sewn for him and the sounds of Grogu’s absentminded babbling; the comforts of his home and his family engulfed his senses, helping him drive away the darkness and successfully grounding him in the present. Instead of the darkened cellar his parents had hidden him inside, he blinked his eyes open to see the stock pot beginning to overflow with water, and he released a short sigh of relief as he switched the faucet off and continued preparing the batch of soup.

Since the reclamation of Mandalore and the semi-peaceful life they’d managed to carve out for themselves on Nevarro, Din had discovered that the memory of his parents’ deaths during the Clone Wars didn’t affect him as badly as it once had. He reasoned that because he’d opened himself up to (Y/N) and Grogu and allowed himself to be vulnerable in a way he’d never been with anyone else, he’d finally discovered how to live with the grief of losing them instead of bottling up his emotions and barricading himself behind his beskar as he once had. Their baby’s impending arrival had also helped, in a way; instead of ruminating on the losses of his past, Din was hyper-fixated on ensuring the continued safety the newest addition to Clan Mudhorn, desperate to keep his nightmare of losing his family from coming true in the future.

“As long as we’re together, everything will be okay,” Din quietly recited the mantra he’d held onto for over a month, allowing the familiar words to wash over him and pacify his anxiety; no matter what the galaxy had in store for them, he and (Y/N) had shown their enemies time and time again that together, they were an unstoppable force that would rain fire upon anyone who dared threaten their family.

A sharp gasp tore through the sound of the storm raging outside, and Din glanced up from the cutting board to see (Y/N), a look of shock written across her features as she braced herself against the hallway’s doorway. “Oh no…”

The knife he’d been using to chop vegetables clattered onto the cutting board and he vaulted over the counter, crossing the room in three long strides; his hands hovered uselessly over her as his eyes frantically sought hers. “What is it, alor’ad, what’s wrong?”

“My water just broke…” Din followed the captain’s stunned gaze and sure enough, there was a small puddle of liquid pooling directly beneath her skirt. “The baby…Din, the baby’s on their way.”

Din’s mouth went dry as he was overwhelmed by an onslaught of emotion; he was concerned for the well-being of his wife and child and fearful of the impending labor she would suffer through, of course, but despite his swirling apprehension, he was also overcome with excitement to finally meet their baby boy or girl. Staring into (Y/N)’s widened eyes, Din could see that she was growing more distressed by the second and in an instant, he steeled his nerves and put on a brave face for her. “All right, we have a plan and we’re going to see it through together-”

“B-But what about the storm?”

“I’ve driven through worse storms than this, alor’ad. I’ll get us to the clinic in one piece.” Din’s hands cradled her face, his thumbs caressing her cheekbones while he flashed her a fleeting grin. “Hey, you don’t have something against the driving abilities of bounty hunters, do you?”

(Y/N) gave him the barest hint of a smile as their familiar banter, and Din was pleased to see the worry slowly fade from her eyes. “I do, actually, but I guess I’ll make an exception for you.”

Chuckling, Din pressed an adoring kiss to his wife’s brow before resting his forehead against hers. “You and I have prepared for this day for nine months, ner kotir alor’ad, and I swear to you now, I’ll do whatever it takes to ensure your safety and comfort. Do you trust me?”

“With every fiber of my being, Din Djarin,” (Y/N) emphatically replied, her eyes welling with tears as a soft smile illuminated her features. “A part of me can’t believe we’re finally going to meet her.”

Din’s smile matched hers. “Her?”

The captain shrugged. “Call it a mother’s intuition.”

“Well, why don’t we head down to the clinic and see if that mother’s intuition is right?” Din’s gentle coaxing drew a nod from (Y/N) but just as he leaned in to give her a kiss, a distressed whimper made them both quickly look down. Grogu was standing at their feet and looking between the puddle of amniotic fluid and his mother’s protruding stomach, his mouth turned downwards into a concerned frown. “It’s okay, Grogu, your mother’s not hurt; it’s just her body’s way of signaling to us that the baby is on their way.”

The child’s eyes widened and he cooed in delight before leaping into (Y/N)’s waiting arms. “You’re excited to meet your brother or sister, aren’t you, little guy?” She laughed, giving his wrinkled forehead a soft kiss and affectionately rubbing one of his ears. “C’mon, let’s get changed and pack your overnight bag while your dad puts on his armor.”

Pressing a kiss to Din’s lips, (Y/N) turned and disappeared down the hallway with Grogu bouncing excitedly in her arms, leaving Din standing alone in the living room. “Everything will be okay…” He mumbled to himself as he strode across the room to their armory, pressing a button and watching the door slide open to reveal his beskar armor. He stared at his reflection in the polished metal, noting his widened eyes and flushed cheeks, and for a moment, his mind flashed back to his days as a young Mandalorian apprentice; the same widened eyes and flushed cheeks would greet him in his pocket mirror’s cracked reflection while he prepared for battle, until he steadied his nerves by imagining the success he’d be fighting for. While he looked on at his own reflection, he pictured a tired but beautiful (Y/N) tearfully smiling down at their baby nestled safely in her arms, the physical manifestation of their unconditional love and devotion; after months of eager and nerve-wracking anticipation, they were finally going to meet the child they’d created together. A serene sense of calm settled over him and washed away his fears, and as he continued focusing on the image of their near future he’d conjured, he fixed his reflection with steadfast eyes and nodded to himself. “Everything will be okay.”

And with that, Din set about the methodical task of putting on his beskar armor piece by piece, his hands steady and his mind blessedly calm all the while.

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“Din?”

(Y/N)’s voice was hoarse, the eight hours of labor she’d endured taking its toll on not just her body but her vocal cords as well. Din, who’d been methodically dabbing away at her sweat-coated brow, met her exhausted eyes and offered her an encouraging smile. “What is it, alor’ad?”

“Are you angry with me for choosing the med droids over the midwives?”

He didn’t hesitate to shake his head. “No, of course not.” His brief connection with IG-11 and his growing fondness of R5-D4 hadn’t diminished his distrust of droids, but when (Y/N) had insisted early on in her pregnancy that the med droids assist in the birth instead of the clinic’s midwives he’d kept his mouth shut; it was (Y/N) who would labor for hours to bring their baby into the world, not him, so he supported any decision she made regarding her own comfort during childbirth. “I could never be angry with you, ner cyar’ika alor’ad.” He spared the med droid currently measuring her dilation a fleeting glance before turning his attention back to the captain. “They’ve taken good care of you and our child for the past nine months, and I trust that they’ll continue taking care of you both. That’s why you chose them over the midwives, after all.”

(Y/N)’s eyes roamed across his features as she shook her head. “That’s not the only reason I chose the med droids, sweetheart. I couldn’t do this without seeing your eyes; I-I thought I could, I spent nine months bracing myself for it, but I…” Her words trailed off and her breath sharply caught in her throat, signaling that another contraction was upon her; Din murmured reassurances and encouragements to her as she latched onto his free hand and writhed in pain, her agonized cry piercing his heart. He allowed her to squeeze his hand tightly and he calmly talked her through the labor pains until they subsided, and he released the breath he’d been holding while the captain sagged against the pillows once again. “I…I needed…”

“Haalur,” Din soothingly crooned, smoothing her hair back and wiping the sweat from her brow with his cool cloth. “You’re doing so well, ner kotir alor’ad, just keep breathing for me.”

(Y/N) shakily breathed in and out as she brought her hand up to cradle the side of his face. “When I look into your eyes, I feel braver than I’ve ever felt before, and I knew the minute we stepped into the clinic that I couldn’t do this without seeing all of you. I-I know that you’re distrustful of droids and I’m sorry that I-”

“I am, but this isn’t about me, alor’ad, and you have nothing to apologize for,” Din reassured her and turned his head to give her palm a kiss. “I told you, I’ll do whatever it takes to ensure your safety and comfort, and if that means allowing the med droids to attend to you so that I can remove my helmet, then so be it.”

As her eyes welled with tears, (Y/N) brought their joined hands to her lips and reverently kissed his knuckles, and then again for good measure. “I love you, Din Djarin.”

Din smiled tenderly. “I love you too.”

“Captain (Y/L/N),” One of the med droids interrupted, hovering by her bedside while Din resisted the urge to rest a hand atop his holstered blaster. “It is time to begin pushing.”

(Y/N)’s tearful eyes widened and Din, noting the twinge of fear in her expression, set aside the cool cloth to caress her cheek. “Our child is almost here, ner cyar’ika alor’ad. Are you ready to meet them?” She nodded and he chastely kissed her cheek. “I’ll be with you the entire time, I promise. I swear on all the stars I’ll never leave your side.”

Releasing a shuddering breath, (Y/N) nodded again and allowed him to help maneuver her into the proper position. Once she was sitting up and her feet were braced on the stirrups, he slipped an arm around her back and held her hand securely in his while two med droids assumed their positions at the foot of her bed. “When your next contraction begins, you must push as hard as you can.”

The captain gritted her teeth and nodded to herself, a flash of her usual fiery determination filling her eyes as she gripped Din’s hand. “I can do this…”

“That’s right, alor’ad,” Din readily agreed. “You never give up and you never give in. Ner atin riduur, you can do this, and I’ll be right here with you the entire time.” As another contraction started, (Y/N) took a deep breath and pushed with all her might, her grip on his hand ironclad and her back braced against his arm. While she continued pushing, a steady stream of encouragements and praises passed from his lips, joining her pained cries and the sound of thunder rumbling outside; the memory of his mother and father’s deaths once again encroached on Din’s thoughts, but he forced himself to remain in the moment and continue supporting his wife through her contraction. “That’s it, that’s it, you’re doing so well! You’re so strong, ner cyar’ika alor’ad, so strong and so brave, just keep pushing!” The contraction ebbed away, and Din ducked his head to catch his wife’s hazy gaze. “Good job, alor’ad, you’re doing great, just keep breathing for me. Lean against me, c’mon, take a quick break before the next one.”

(Y/N)’s head collapsed against Din’s shoulder and she moaned when the cool beskar pauldron touched her heated skin. “I think…I think the baby’s almost here, sweetheart.” She glanced over at the med droids. “That’s normal, right?”

“Quite normal, Captain (Y/L/N),” The med droid replied, and (Y/N) breathed a sigh of relief. “With proper prenatal care, many babies are born after only one to two pushes. Yours is expected be born with the next push.”

Din beamed. “Did you hear that? Our baby will be here soon, you just need to push one last time.”

“Mir’sheb.” (Y/N) flashed him a teasing smile and shook her head. “You make it sound so easy…”

Leaning down, Din pressed an apologetic kiss to her sweat-covered brow and tucked some stray hair behind her ear. “Then let me help you. Keep leaning against me, squeeze my hand as hard as you can – hell, break my fingers for all I care, it doesn’t matter – and all I want you to do is take my strength and use it. Use it, all right?” His wife nodded and he gave her another kiss. “They’re right here, we’re so close to finally meeting them. You can do this, ner kotir alor’ad, I promise you can do this.”

“I can do this,” (Y/N) repeated with a self-assured nod before glancing up at the room’s skylight and smiling. “You know, my mother always said that babies born during a rainstorm are blessed with resilience and strength.”

“With all due respect to your mother’s beliefs, this baby’s resilience and strength won’t come from Nevarro’s meteorological patterns. They’ll come directly from their mother…” Her eyes met his and softened as he brought their joined hands to his lips and kissed her knuckles. “The bravest warrior I know.”

(Y/N) surged forward and captured his lips in a passionate kiss, the force of her embrace taking him by surprise and nearly knocking him to the ground; at her urging, he slid out of the chair he’d posted himself in for over eight hours and sat on the edge of the hospital bed, silently reveling in his closeness to her as he returned her ardent kisses. Just as she pulled away to take a breath, the captain went rigid in his embrace and her widened eyes quickly met his. “I think this is it. Maker, I can feel them coming!”

Din’s heart pounded with excitement beneath his beskar armor, and he was quick to guide his wife’s back against his chest while she began to push through her contraction. He was only vaguely aware of his own voice among the med droid’s robotic encouragements and (Y/N)’s pained cries, his endless praises echoing off the walls of their suite as he watched her bear down with all her might; in that moment – drenched in sweat and roaring louder than a krayt dragon as she clutched his hand with an almost otherworldly strength – she’d never looked more beautiful to him. A piercing wail cut through the cacophony of voices and Din’s words caught in his throat as one of the med droids gently guided the squirming baby into their grasp, his eyes already stinging as the captain burst into exhausted tears of joy and fell back against his chest.

“We did it,” (Y/N) panted tiredly. “We did it, sweetheart…”

Tearing his eyes away from the med droids attending to the newborn, Din peppered kisses across (Y/N)’s forehead and cheeks and gently brushed her tears away with the pads of his thumbs. “No, you did it, ner cyar’ika alor’ad. I’m so proud of you, you were so strong and brave…”

The captain stroked his cheek with her fingertips, smiling adoringly at him as her eyes sparkled with happiness. “I couldn’t have done it without you, sweetheart.”

“Congratulations, Captain (Y/L/N) and Mr. Djarin.” The two of them looked up to see one of the med droids hovering beside the bed and holding their baby, who’d been cleaned off and loosely wrapped in the blanket that (Y/N) had sewn for them. “You have a healthy baby girl.”

Din grinned broadly and watched as the med droid placed the newborn in (Y/N)’s waiting arms, the baby’s fussing ceasing the moment her mother’s skin touched hers; he hadn’t said anything for fear of being wrong or inadvertently upsetting his wife, but for as long as they’d known about the pregnancy, his gut had told him that they were having a baby girl. But seeing (Y/N) with their daughter, her features illuminated by her breathtaking smile and her eyes shining with tears of joy as she looked down at the life they’d created together, was better than anything he’d ever imagined. “Hi Milla…” (Y/N) cooed at the baby girl nestled in her arms, who was staring up at her with wide, inquisitive brown eyes. “Hello, my little flower. Oh, isn’t she beautiful, sweetheart?”

“She’s perfect,” Din breathed in awe, unable to tear his eyes away from their daughter. “She’s absolutely perfect. She looks just like you, alor’ad.”

“But she inherited those pretty brown eyes of yours.” The captain’s shoulder playfully nudged his. “I was really hoping she would. Would you like to hold her?”

Din froze. “I-I’ve never-”

“Neither have I but it’s just like holding Grogu, I promise.” Encouraged by (Y/N)’s kind smile and his own parental instincts, Din set aside his apprehension and allowed his wife to carefully place their daughter into his waiting arms. “You see? You’re a natural, sweetheart.”

With Milla settled in his arms, Din’s shoulders finally relaxed and he shakily released the breath he’d been holding, smiling once again when his daughter’s inquisitive brown eyes met his for the very first time. Any lingering resentment he held for the med droids vanished in an instant and a crushing, overwhelming love for their baby girl settled in his chest; he couldn’t comprehend how he, a battle-worn Mandalorian warrior who’d long ago entrenched himself in the scum and villainy of the galaxy, managed to help create something so pure and perfect as their little Milla. “We’ve waited so long to finally meet you, ner sarad’ika.” He gently shifted her to rest in the crook of her arm and brought his free hand up, caressing her plump cheek with the tip of his index finger and marveling at the softness of her skin. “You only just arrived and you’re already so loved, you know that?” His breath caught in his throat when the newborn’s tiny hand wrapped around his finger, reminding him in an instant of the first time he’d ever seen Grogu; the memory caused his eyes to sting with unshed tears, but he smiled through his emotions as he continued. “I promise, ner sarad’ika, I’m going to protect you until my dying breath, and I swear on all the stars I’ll never leave your side.”

(Y/N) gently tucked the edges of the blanket around Milla and brushed her fingers across their signet she’d spent hours hand-embroidering onto the fabric. “Welcome to Clan Mudhorn, Milla Djarin,”

The two of them exchanged loving smiles and after Din leaned in to press another kiss to his wife’s forehead, they both went right back to admiring the baby girl they’d fought so hard to bring into the world.

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The next few hours were filled with a flurry of activity; after the med droids delivered the afterbirth and checked both (Y/N) and Milla’s vitals, they were moved to a recovery suite where both mother and daughter could rest and recuperate in peace. While they napped, Din quietly went about filling the suite with some touches of home – oppim incense burning on the windowsill, the captain’s favorite sweater draped over the back of one of the armchairs, a thermos of caf placed on the bedside table and a cozy knit blanket tucked around her legs – and once word got out that the town’s beloved seamstress had given birth, he was tasked with finding places for all the congratulatory vases of flowers they’d been sent. By the time he finished, (Y/N) had woken up to feed a hungry Milla and nearly burst into tears as she took in all the decorating he’d done for them both.

“You didn’t have to do all this, sweetheart,” (Y/N) sniffed as she fastened the top of her medical gown and cradled the sated newborn. “We’re only going to be here one more day.”

Din retrieved her sweater from the chair and crossed the suite, placing it over her shoulders before pressing a reassuring kiss onto her temple. “I wanted to do it, alor’ad. You both deserve to be comfortable, no matter what.” Bending down, he lightly kissed the top of their baby girl’s head and brushed a fingertip across her plump cheek. “Isn’t that right, ner sarad’ika?”

Glancing up, he was pleased to see (Y/N) smiling again. “And to think that only yesterday, you were worried that you weren’t doing enough for us all because the Jawas sold you a defective fan.” She reached out with one hand and gently cupped his cheek. “Milla and I are the luckiest ladies in the galaxy, to have a husband and father who cares so deeply about our comfort.”

“Believe me, it’s me who’s the lucky one,” Din replied, leaning in for a brief kiss and pulling away to meet her gaze. “The med droids came by a while ago and mentioned that Karga and Grogu were in the waiting room. Are you feeling up to a visit, or would you like to rest some more?”

Although still visibly tired, (Y/N)’s eyes brightened at the mention of their son. “You can bring them in; I’m sure the little guy’s anxious to meet his sister.”

After sharing another kiss with the captain and giving their daughter one final lingering look, Din slid his helmet on, donned his gloves and left their suite in search of their visitors. There was an uncharacteristic skip in his step and despite over forty pounds of beskar strapped to his body, he’d never felt lighter in all his life. In hindsight, it was almost laughable how worried he’d been leading up to (Y/N)’s due date, but finally meeting their baby girl had truly brought everything into perspective for him, allowing him to breathe in a way he hadn’t been able to since before he’d learned of the pregnancy. Milla’s every bit the daughter of a bounty hunter and a smuggler, Din thought with a proud grin, she managed to steal every single fear and worry of mine the moment her beautiful brown eyes met mine.

“Mando!” Greef Karga exclaimed as Din burst into the waiting room; the High Magistrate crossed the floor and firmly clasped one of his arms while Grogu leapt into the other. “Congratulations, my friend! The whole town’s already talking about our newest little resident, but we haven’t yet heard if it’s a boy or a girl.”

“It’s a girl.” Greef beamed at the news and Grogu happily clapped his hands together. “We’ve named her Milla, after Naboo’s prized millaflower.”

“And are mother and daughter recovering well?”

Din nodded. “Yes, they’re both healthy and rested, and they’re ready to receive visitors.” The High Magistrate gathered up the pile of wrapped presents he’d brought and followed Din down the hallways to their suite, and Din spared Grogu a glance as the child babbled in excitement from the crook of his arm. “I know you’re eager to meet your little sister, but you have to be gentle with her. No rough-housing or squeezing like you do with the Anzellans, okay?”

Grogu nodded in confirmation. “Patu.”

Satisfied with his son’s answer, Din gave his ear an affectionate rub and continued walking while listening to Greef’s plans for a celebratory festival to be held in (Y/N) and Milla’s honor. He was sure to knock on their suite’s door and waited for his wife’s welcome before opening it and leading the High Magistrate inside. “It’s so kind of you to visit, Greef. I’m sure I look a little worse for wear-”

“Nonsense, my dear, you look as radiant as ever!” Greef grinned good-naturedly and set the pile of wrapped presents down on the nearest table while Din sat on the edge of (Y/N)’s bed. “Gifts for you and the newest little Djarin, courtesy of myself and our friend Bo-Katan Kryze; the Mand’alor extends her congratulations to you both and tasked me with presenting her offerings on her behalf.” The High Magistrate approached her bedside, his eyes twinkling and his smile softening as he observed the newborn resting in her arms. “Beautiful. As the High Magistrate and a treasured old friend of your parents, it’s my great honor to welcome you to Nevarro, Milla Djarin!” Beneath his helmet, Din rolled his eyes in fond exasperation at his old friend’s formality. “Now, I have a city-wide festival to plan in celebration of such a momentous occasion, so I must take my leave.”

After thanking their friend for his gifts and congratulations, Din and (Y/N) watched with thinly-veiled amusement as the High Magistrate departed their suite with a swish of his burgundy cloak. “He never does anything by half, does he?”

“Not a single thing,” Din replied with a chuckle. A soft coo drew his attention down to Grogu in his arms; the child was staring transfixed at Milla, his large ears perked up in interest and his widened eyes filled with curiosity as the newborn’s brown eyes met his. “This is your sister, Grogu. Would you like to meet her?”

The child nodded and Din shifted closer to (Y/N) before setting him down on her lap, watching him crawl onto his mother’s softening stomach while his gloved hand cautiously hovered nearby. “This is Milla, little guy.” (Y/N) readjusted her hold on the newborn and gently smoothed her fingers over their son’s wrinkled forehead with a loving smile. “Milla, darling, this is Grogu, your brother.”

“In our culture, it is the old who protect the young, keeping them safe as they find their place in the world.” Din looked on as Grogu stretched his arm out and allowed Milla’s tiny fingers to wrap around his clawed hand. “It is your responsibility to watch over your sister and once she is old enough, she will learn to do the same for you. This is the Way.”

(Y/N) cupped the side of his helmet with her free hand and guided him to meet her gaze, pressing her forehead against his in a Keldabe Kiss and pulling away to give him a breathtaking smile. “It looks like we achieved our suum ca’nara after all, didn’t we?”

Lips curving upwards into a blissful grin, Din cupped the captain’s cheek and dipped his head forward for another Keldabe Kiss. “Yes, we did. Ni kyr’tayl gar darasuum, ner cyar’ika alor’ad.”

“Ni kyr’tayl gar darassuum, her cyar’ika beroya,” (Y/N) whispered back, her (Y/E/C) eyes brimming with tears of joy as Din swallowed the lump that had formed in his throat. After sharing one last Keldabe Kiss, they watched their children interact with one another for the first time and in that moment, Din was the happiest he’d ever been in his entire life.

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Mando’a Translations:

Goten-Birth Bic ni skana’din-That really ticks me off/vague expression of anger Alor’ad-Captain Ad’ika-Little one Ner cyar’ika riduur-My darling husband/wife Ner kotir alor’ad-My brave captain Ner cyar’ika alor’ad-My darling captain Haalur-Breathe Ner atin alor’ad-My stubborn wife Mir’sheb-Smart-ass Ner sarad’ika-My little flower Suum ca’nara-The state of blissful rest and peace Ni kyr’tayl gar darasuum, ner cyar’ika alor’ad-I love you, my darling captain Ni kyr’tayl gar darasuum, ner cyar’ika beroya-I love you, my darling bounty hunter

A/N: Milla Djarin is finally here! Now comes the difficult part: how to integrate little baby Djarin into the plot of The Mandalorian and Grogu lol thank you all so much for reading and commenting! I’ve created two Spotify playlists, one filled with of all my favorite music from the world of Star Wars and the other compiled with all the songs I listen to for inspiration while writing this series, so if you’re interested in checking them out the links are down below!

Star Wars Spotify Playlist: https://open.spotify.com/playlist/2KuSKJhVOPPvxdJ9YHeo4M?si=2977ff31bf0c4bdd

Din Djarin/TCoB Playlist: https://open.spotify.com/playlist/5HIv4pIIgtzRW3Nyv5x7ry?si=15e457550bd94966 Taking Care of Business Masterlist