A Trek Across The Stars

Din feels the droid holding him in place lift the beskar from his head, and his eyes instantly lock with yours from across the room. 

After years of being careful, years of life together without his creed ever having been broken, you’re finally seeing his face for the first time. Unfortunately, it is against his will. Held captive by an enemy. 

While the two Hutt twins taunt him in their language, all Din can focus on is the anguish and confusion in your face as tears stream down your plump, flushed cheeks. You mouth the phrase, “I’m so sorry,” and Din’s heart breaks at the sight of it. If only you knew that this was his deepest darkest desire. Even now in this dangerous situation he feels relieved to have you finally see him, no matter how wrong it may be.

His enemy seems to notice that he hasn't been paying attention to them, and the male Hutt laughs evilly.

"You wear your weaknesses on your face, Mandalorian," the male slug chides, "How shameful this must be for you."

The female Hutt laughs wickedly, "How does it feel for your beloved wife to finally see your face, only moments before you die."

The thick chain attached to the metal cuff around your neck suddenly pulls taught, and Din glares viciously at the Hutts as the sister-slug yanks you up onto her gigantic body. She begins fondling you all over, much to Din's dismay. You look as if you’re going to gag. 

He’s heard about the slaves of various species that the Hutts like to keep around for pleasure, but he never once would have imagined you in such a position. They have you dressed scantily with your arms and ankles shackled, and a thick metal collar around your neck.

Under entirely different circumstances, Din would be ready to tear what little fabric there is from your body and take you right then and there. Under these circumstances, however, he's ready to kill these creatures and bathe in their blood for doing this to you. To his family.

The Hutts finally get Din's attention when the male adds, "Yes, how does it feel to know you failed her, just like you failed our nephew?" He gestures off to the side of the chamber, where another Hutt is bound and unconscious.

Din angrily seethes the word, "Monsters." 

The male Hutt, the uncle, then proceeds to threaten Grogu's well being. Grogu, who as far as Din knows, is still back home on Nevarro and probably scared out of his mind without his two parents. 

A blind rage pushes Din to rise, the warrior in him ready for another round of combat even after the horridly long day he's had. But then the ground beneath his feet gives way, and he’s falling to some unknown fate in the murky waters below as the Hutts laugh and you scream.

Yet, instead of hitting water, his body hits… the cot?

*****

You’ve been awake for the last few minutes, but you haven’t moved to get up yet. Instead, you’ve been feeling Din twitch and writhe against you, listening with mild concern as he whimpers and moans inside his helmet behind your head. His energy is swirling around yours fearfully within The Force, and you're certain that's what woke you in the first place.

You jump with surprise as his entire body suddenly jerks violently and he shrieks himself awake. He starts grabbing for you so hard you’re worried he’ll leave finger-shaped bruises behind.

“Jesus, Din. Are you alright?” You ask, turning your body as much as you can to face him in the cramped sleeping cabin. You flick the overhead control and the lights come on, but only very dimly. With a hand to the side of his trembling beskar, you proclaim, "you must have been having a nightmare, darling. It's alright. You're here with me in our bed. You're safe on the Crest."

Din nods, deep breaths heaving in his chest. "Shit, that felt so real." He pants your name, and the broken sound nearly breaks you.

You shush him, and soothingly run your hands over his shoulders, down his arms and back, trying to show him through your touch that this is reality.

"You're here. We're here. We're safe," you tell him, assertively.

"Where's Grogu?" he croaks, looking around and above himself.

The child in question peeks his little head over the side of his hammock at the sound of his name. He looks so cute dangling a few feet above your laid out bodies in the cot, making his signature little “patu” noise. The kid then proceeds to hop down and land on his bottom, right smack dab on the chest of his father. Luckily, Din’s been in the habit of sleeping without his armor on for months now, so the child lands safely on Din’s actual chest with a thud. Jupiter follows suit and lands gracefully on your thighs.

“Umph,” Din grunts, chuckling happily as an arm encircles the kid. “Love you so much, kiddo. I’m glad you’re safe, too.”

"That must have been a really awful dream," you say, hand grazing Grogu's head as you look at Din with worry in your heart. "I could feel your dread."

Your cosmic companion nods, sitting up a little. Grogu shifts, sliding down onto his father's belly, and you can't help but smile fondly at the domestic sight of it as Din responds. “It was so vivid, like I was really there living it.”

“Would you like to tell me about it?” You ask tentatively, knowing full-well that the subject could be entirely too sensitive to share. For a moment, you brace yourself for him to tell you it was a dream about his ex-mentor, a subject which you're still kicking yourself for bringing up after his intense reaction to it the other day.

Din nods once, and then begins, “It started with you and I being captured and taken to Nal Hutta by a bounty hunter hired by the Hutts. Grogu was fine, I think, but they…" Din pauses and you see him swallow before continuing, "they took us away from him. They were angry at me for saving their nephew instead of turning him in for the bounty they hired me for. I'm not sure why I was working for them, though. That part was unclear. All I know is I made the call to set the kid free and they punished us for it. They removed my helmet in front of you to shame me. They had you chained up and dressed as a pleasure slave. I believe they were going to force you to watch me die before they had their way with you."

Your eyes go wide and your hands struggle to cover Grogu's ears. "Oh, my god! Din!"

Grogu whines and shakes his head, batting at your hands with his tiny claws.

"Okay, okay, sorry! Here," you shift and set Jupiter in front of the child. "Play with Jupiter and maybe don't listen to this part."

Din chuckles, and you are slightly relieved that he can make light of the horror his mind had shown him now. You shoot him a narrow look and mouth the words, "Pleasure slave?!"

Din nods, shrugging. "Unfortunately, not uncommon on the outer rim."

You shudder. "That certainly sounds like a nightmare."

Din agrees, sighing as he leans his helmeted head against the wall. It makes the tiniest of clunking noises, and you don't fight the little tug at the corner of your mouth.

"I mean," you say, playfully, "I'm all for the kinky stuff, but only in the right scenario."

The black T you know so well tilts to look right at you then, and the air around him shifts. He huffs a little laugh through the speaker and he says, in a low tone, "The outfit they had you in was pretty good, I have to admit. With the chains and the collar, too." He grunts and your face flushes.

Laughing, you shove at him and try to ignore the little flare of heat he's caused to stir within your core. "That's it, I'm putting a pin in this conversation for when we are not surrounded by our pointy eared children!"

"Fair," Din agrees wit a hearty laugh.

With a shake of the head and a grin you move to pay more attention to your son and your cat, stroking Jupiter's fur coat as you ask your child, "Never mind dad's silly nightmare. What did you dream about, Green Bean?"

Grogu coos up at you, and in a moment you could have never in a million years thought was about to happen, he points right at Din and says, "Da," with a huge smile on his tiny face.

Din's head whips down to look at Grogu with a sharp intake of breath. All at once your heart swells so hard in your chest that it nearly knocks you backwards.

Slack jawed and voice full of wonder, you look at the boy with such affection flowing through your feelings into his in The Force. "Grogu did you just speak?"

Grogu nods, confirming this, as he looks at Din with open and closing grabby hands. "Da!"

Din scoops the boy up immediately, holding Grogu to his chest. "I… are you really saying 'dad,' buddy?"

"Think he is, Din. It feels that way to me," you confirm, noting the hard swell of emotions suddenly pouring from your partner.

"Why not my name, though?" He wonders out loud, visor looking to you.

Smiling, you reach over to rub Grogu's upper back. "Because he knows you as 'dad' now, Din. That is your name to him."

Again Grogu blatantly nods, and you feel his pride ripple through the Force with more strength than anything you've felt from him before. "Da!"

Din's heart swells, the feeling of it nearly palpable to you as he asks the boy, "Were you dreaming about me, buddy? Is that really the answer to your mom's question?"

Grogu nods enthusiastically, shouting, "Da!"

"Who's that holding you, sweetheart? Your Daddy?"

"Da! Da!" Grogu yells happily, snuggling hard into Din.

"Great job, Grogu. I'm so proud of you," Din chokes, audibly emotional under his helmet. "I can't believe it, cyar'ika."

In the bizarre plane of existence known as The Force, the feeling of pride surrounding your family is unmistakable. Grogu is so proud of himself, and Din's so full of pride for his foundling you're not sure how his beskar can contain it all. The pride of a father hearing his son truly speak for the first time envelopes your own similarly maternal pride, and in this instant you know that the strange thing binding your family's fate together has you right where you need to be.

"I can't believe it either, Din," you breathe, tears of joy threatening to fall.

*****

Din's heart swells with delight every single time he hears Grogu say "Da", which ends up being a lot once the kid really gets going. Well into the morning he's still saying it happily, and Din cannot get enough. You, on the other hand, are trying very poorly to hide the fact that it's getting on your nerves.

"What about 'Ma,' dude? Come on, say my name too," you're pleading, bouncing Grogu as Din makes the three of you breakfast.

All the while Grogu repeats the fatherly title over and over again, and Din's grin beneath his helmet only grows fonder.

"Say 'Mama'," you request, tone riding the edge of desperation.

"Don't get too jealous, cyare," Din teases. He looks over his shoulder at you with a hidden smirk.

Throwing him a sheepish smile, you laugh and shrug. "Hey, I'm just trying to expand his vocabulary, that's all."

Din's own laugh feels like a pleasant rumble of soft, distant thunder in his chest. All at once he thinks of the thunderstorms during the rainy season on Nevarro, and his heart aches with longing for the lava planet. Had that not been the initial setting of his dream?

A house just outside the city limits. A pen of blurrgs and a lush garden with a small pond. The Razor Crest parked just outside the home on a stormy night.

Just as he's about to suggest that his family make their way back to Nevarro soon, there comes the sound of someone banging a fist into the outer hull of the Razor Crest from outside.

"Who could that be?" You ask, eyebrows raising in Din's direction.

The knocks come again and a very muffled voice faintly makes its way through the barrier of metal, yelling, "It is Paz Vizsla!"

Din groans in the most Earthly way he ever has, knowing full well that he sounds just like you while practically slamming the spatula down in the pan. "Ugh, what could he possibly want?"

You seem taken aback by Din's tonal shift. "What's got you in a bad mood suddenly?"

"Nothing," Din hears himself snip. "I was just enjoying our morning, that's all. I'd rather him not see me without the rest of my armor on. Do you mind seeing what he wants while I finish up in here and get dressed?"

"Sure, darling," you say supportively. With a hand to his chest you lift up on your tip toes to kiss his beskar cheek and make your way over to open the ramp with Grogu in your arms.

*****

"What can I do for you, Paz?" You ask as the ramp begins to lower and you descend along with it. When your boots hit the sand, you squint at the Mandalorian man expectantly.

"Ragnar has something to say to Grogu," Paz nods down at you respectfully. Then he nods to Grogu in your arms.

The child in question comes out from behind his dad, having been hiding there the whole time. Paz is stockier than most of the other Mandos in the tribe, and a small smile of fondness graces your features at the realization that Ragnar must use this to his advantage a lot. He did it the other day, you're sure of it.

Nodding to the boy, you say, "I'm glad you're here, Ragnar. Grogu would like to say something to you as well. With my help, of course."

Grogu frowns when Ragnar approaches, the facial gesture not going unnoticed by you. "It's okay, sweetie," you tell your boy gently. "He feels sorry about yesterday. I sense it."

"I do," Ragnar says sincerely, human face hidden behind his new beskar one. As he approaches the two of you, the child turns back to look at Paz for a moment.

"Go on, son. Remember what we talked about," Paz says with a genuine tone of encouragement you're a little surprised by.

Ragnar nods, taking a deep breath to steel himself as the visor looks right at Grogu. The determination you feel from him is tangible, causing your heart to go out to the kid.

"Grogu, I'm very sorry for excluding you yesterday. And for insulting you. As Mandalorian foundlings, we must look out for one another. I vow to treat you with respect from now on. This is The Way," Ragnar finishes with a fist over his heart and a bow of his head.

Nodding, you lift Grogu up slightly and look into his big eyes as you explain your son's feelings to the younger child. "Thank you, Ragnar. We forgive you. Grogu cannot say this himself, but I have a special way of communicating with him. I know he is sorry for what happened yesterday too, and he is sorry for any physical harm he may have caused."

"I forgive you," Ragnar says to your son with a nod.

Grogu babbles happily in your arms, and when you hear the unmistakable sounds of Din's boots clanking down the ramp behind you, the boy's big brown eyes light up brighter than Tatooine's twin suns.

"Da!" Grogu shouts.

"Hey kiddo," Din says down to the boy as he comes up beside you, a gloved hand stroking one of the child's great ears. He's back in full armor.

God, he looks fucking good.

"Paz. Ragnar," Din greets with a nod which both Mandalorians return in suit. Then he looks down at you, and you know that the look hidden behind that T is one full of affection. "Breakfast is ready. I already took care of myself, so what's left is for you and Grogu."

"Thanks, baby," you grin, throwing him a wink for good measure. It sounds so fucking weird to call him that, but ever since he brought it up you've been making a point to tease him.

At first you think he's ignoring you, but then he comes to stand beside you and you feel a hard pinch to your ass. It takes all of your willpower not to react.

"When Grogu's finished eating can he come play with us?" Ragnar asks, and when Paz shoots him a look through his own T shaped visor, the child's back straightens as he quickly changes his phrasing to, "Train. Can Grogu come train with us? Teckla is going to show us how to fight in the water."

"Water? After what happened to me the other day? I don't think so." Your eyes flick wearily to the crashing waves way down on the beach.

"Not in the ocean," Paz interjects. "There is a path in the caves which leads to a small underground lake. Runoff from the cliffs have created a natural waterfall within the confines of our temporary home. We've been using the water there for bathing and training for several weeks. It should be safe, so long as your little one can swim."

Grogu nods in the affirmative, and you feel his wanting. He reaches out towards Ragnar, and you look up at Din with a shrug. "What do you think, Daddio?"

"If it's safe, I'm fine with it," Din says with a shrug of his own.

"Should I come along just in case Teckla needs the help?" You ask, anxious at the idea of trusting these strangers with your child again after the incident the day prior.

Paz gives a shake of the head. "If you like, but I think she can handle it. It's mostly a swimming lesson for Naeya. Some of the older kids will be learning how to move around in water while welding weapons."

"I always enjoyed those lessons," Din muses fondly from beside you. "Learning to swim with full beskar armor and a rifle strapped to your back is certainly not the same as swimming for leisure. I think this will be good for him, cyar'ika."

"If you think so," you agree, looking down at Grogu. "What do you think, buddy? Would you like to tag along with the others?"

Grogu nods, giving a little thumbs up for 'yes' just like you've taught him.

*****

"So… what was this about a pleasure slave outfit?" You ask, voice full of amusement as you look Din over with lusty eyes. Paz and Ragnar only just left with Grogu a few minutes ago. It's just the two of you and Jupiter on the ship for the time being, each of you taking on a chore to clean up from breakfast.

Din sees a flash in his mind of your barely clothed body being led on all fours by a chain, and the blood rush to his cock is nearly instantaneous.

"Cyar'ika," Din warns, his voice a low growl. His hands cease the act of drying the plate he's holding.

"What?" You ask not-so innocently, pretending to wipe down the small galley counter top with a knowing smirk. "The kid is gone for a few hours. I figured it was as good a time as any to hear about the rest of that dream. Did you get a chance to kill those big bad slugs and save me? Was it really hot? Like we banged right then and there with me all chained up? Or did you fail and those Hutt things did something to me? Did they make you watch? Were you helpless to stop it?"

"You're fucking asking for it. You know that, right?" Din asks evenly, licking his lips as the pressure in his pants begins to feel uncomfortable. He loves where this is going.

Smirking, you bat your eyes at him. "I don't know what you're talking about."

Din growls again, voice growing huskier with each word. "Would you like to know exactly what I would do to you if I had you in chains for me? If you were my pleasure slave, you'd be treated like the queen of Mandalore. Right up until the moment I decide you're going to be treated like a whore."

"Honestly I feel like that's our dynamic already," you say with a cheeky tone, poking your tongue out at him.

Din's gloved hand comes to, very gently, grip your face. His beskar nearly touches your nose as he pulls you towards him and declares, "Cyar'ika, I can assure you that you have no fucking idea of what that dynamic would look like."

With a whimper that causes Din's already throbbing dick to swell even more, you're slipping into that needy little voice you use only for him. "Din, I'm going to need you to go get that blindfold right now because that was the hottest you've ever sounded. I need your mouth on me, ner verd. Please," you breathe, writhing against his grip.

All at once Din's anxiety finds his heart and grabs hold, causing a panicked noise to rise within his throat. In that instant he's able to understand that the dream from last night was clearly a manifestation of his desire to show you his face, and the immense amount of pressure and guilt centered around the subject. He's suddenly pushing you back and away from him, and you look utterly hurt by it.

"Fuck," he blurts, wishing he could rake a hand through his hair in exasperation. "Fuck!"

"Whoa, hey," Hearing his change in tone, you clearly understand that the mood has shifted. Brows knitted and lips parted, you reach out to place a hand on his right pauldron. "Din? What's going on?"

"Nothing," he says, turning his head to avoid the scrutiny of your gaze as he shoulders your hand off of him.

"Not nothing, Chrome Dome," you argue defensively, frowning.

The use of his favorite nickname certainly grabs his attention, but he doesn't falter. "Yes, nothing."

Your tone is teetering on angry, clearly frustrated with him. "You've been acting weird for days. I've been trying to use my ability to make sense of you but you're so all over the place I haven't been able to get a read on you."

Din sighs, looking away from you.

With a deep breath and look of determination, you place a hand to the base of his helmet and force him to look at you again. In a much gentler voice, you tell him, "We don't shut each other out. Remember? Out with it."

"I can't," he gasps, shaking his head. Not right now. This can't be the moment he admits this to you. He's not ready.

Frowning, you continue to press. "What can't you do? Is it the blindfold thing? We don't have to do it today, Din. But I thought you said it was fine."

"It was. It is. I-I just. Fuck. I can't," He says the word 'can't' again as if he's being burned from the inside out, hearing the desperation in his own voice.

"Please tell me why you're freaking out about this all of the sudden," you plead, face anguished. "I'm scared that I've done something wrong, Din."

"I lied! Dank farrik! The Armorer asked me if I've taken my helmet off for you and I lied," Din hisses, not willing to raise his voice any further as he admits this great blasphemy to you.

Dumbfounded, your mouth hangs open as you say, "What?!"

He looks away. "You heard me. Don't pretend you didn't."

You move so that he still has to look at you, head moving right in front of the visor. "Yes, I heard you. But I don't understand. I didn't think we were breaking the rules? Have you been lying to me this whole time too?"

Din is scandalized by the notion. "What?! No! Absolutely not. To me, we've never broken the creed. But we came close the other day, and I fear I should have never let things get this far in the first place."

After a moment of contemplation, you look at him dead on. "So let me get this straight. To you, as long as I truly never see your face and you uphold your Mandalorian morals, the blindfold thing doesn't count. But were the Armorer to find out, you fear she could never understand it from your perspective. Am I following?"

"Yes," Din breathes, nodding. Suddenly his armor feels utterly constricting.

With closed eyes you take another deep breath, and as you exhale you fix Din with a very serious expression. "I'm going to ask you something and I assume that it's not going to be received well. But I have to ask it. Does any of what you're going through have to do with Castyl Vanda?"

Din's head snaps to you so hard he's sure his neck cracked. "How do you know that name?"

"The Armorer told me about him. Not much, but enough. She told me he left you and the tribe to become an apostate when you were still in training."

Din's own eyes slip closed beneath the beskar. "That is what happened, yes."

"Is any of what you're feeling fear that you're going to become just like him? Fear that I've forced you to stray from the creed? You know I would never do that."

His dark eyes snap back open at that, looking at you seriously in the hopes that you're able to sense how serious he is in The Force. "You haven't forced me to do anything. I've acted entirely of my own free will this entire time."

You frown deeply, "Do you feel as if what we do privately is bending the rules of the creed?"

Din falters, "I… I never thought that it was. Not truly. Not until the Armorer asked me that question. Now I am not sure what I believe."

"Please be honest with me, Din," you ask, voice small and full of insecurity. "If what we do is bending the rules, do you regret bending the rules to be with me?"

He shakes his head adamantly. "Never, cyar'ika. Never. I only fear that I cannot have both. My only regret is that I cannot show you all of me."

Your mouth falls open, the shock evident on your face. "Holy shit, Din," you breathe.

"Yeah. Holy shit," Din agrees, a humorless chuckle lodged in his throat. He cannot truly fathom that he's said it out loud to you. After months of feeling this way, it's finally out in the open.

"What does this mean for you, Din?"

The question comes with so much fear and uncertainty attached to it, and Din feels the urge to laugh humorlessly again. If only you knew how much he's been asking himself the very same thing for weeks. What could any of this possibly mean for a Mandalorian such as he?

"I do not know, but I do fear I have become more like Castyl Vanda than I realized." He says honestly.

"Are you willing to tell me about him? I'd like to understand what happened between you."

Din sighs, and resigns himself to relive one of his least favorite memories.

*****

"Cas! Cas, look at this!" Din's young, youthful voice shouts through the dense jungle-forest surrounding him. The somewhat newly established Mandalorian apprentice uses his helmet's technology to analyze the footprint of a great beast he's been tracking for two days. He's now able to pinpoint how recently this print was made using heat signatures in his visor and the physical skills he's been learning from his teacher. Din feels so proud of himself, but the moment is soured. He desperately wants to share this moment with his mentor, but Castyl is nowhere to be found.

Din knows his mentor should be hovering more, even though a year ago Cas' hovering drove the boy insane. Din used to hate feeling as if his every move were being scrutinized. But that was when he was more insecure in his new life as a Mandalorian. Now, he's had his helmet upon his head and his creed in his heart for two whole cycles. He wants to succeed as a Mandalorian warrior. He wants to know he's doing right by his teacher. Din wants Cas to be watching his tracking skills very carefully, looking to see if Din is following his instructions correctly, or if the young apprentice needs any help with a detail he may have missed. Din wants Castyl to hover, because Din wants to feel the same pride from the man that he felt the day he took the Creed and officially became a member of the tribe.

But, he's not hovering. In fact, he's been completely distant for most of the day. Just like he has been for the last several weeks. Din may as well be training himself at this point.

Ever since they started traveling with Cas' new rebel friend, Daro Tane, a few months back, the Mandalorian man has paid less and less attention to Din and his lessons. Cas' friend has also seemingly cared less and less about this great "rebellion" he used to go on and on about to a tiresome degree. Din can't remember the last time the man even mentioned The Empire. Lately they just seem to be completely consumed with one another. It makes little sense to a young boy like Din, who was quite happy when he had Cas' attentions all to himself.

A boy who lost everything in a single afternoon, literally half of his young life ago. A boy whose young life was saved that day by a great warrior. A warrior who that boy would go on to idolize, and eventually love as a father. A warrior who, Din once thought, loved him as a son.

That hasn't felt true in a while.

He waits for about as long as any impatient sixteen year old can wait, and then frustration and a little bit of hurt find their way into his heart. The boy grits his teeth, stomping angrily over to where he last saw Cas and Daro. He's ready to give the man a piece of his mind. He's ready to stand up for himself.

But then that bravado dies in his throat as he rounds the corner and sees the face of a man he does not recognize. A man wearing Cas' teal armor, but not his helmet, which is laid forgotten in the soil. A man with his tongue buried deep in the mouth of his companion.

"Cas? Is that you?" Din asks, voice suddenly small.

Both men freeze, and an eerie silence befalls the jungle-like surroundings despite the abundance of wildlife all around.

The man Din does not recognize unfreezes after a moment, his at-first closed eyes snapping open as wide as humanly possible. The "stranger" springs backwards from his companion as if being burned.

"Din! This is not what it looks like," the man begins to explain, approaching the teen. That's Cas' voice alright, but it looks wrong coming out of this person's mouth rather than a modulated speaker.

The man Din does recognize snorts out an unceremonious laugh, shaking his head of long dark braids. His skin is darker than Cas' by several shades, and his eyes hold a deep golden hue which always makes Din feel as if the man can see more than just what's in front of him. Daro Tane is a man that wears his emotions on his sleeves, yet Din can never quite get an accurate read on him or his intentions. That fact alone has bothered the boy from the moment he met the odd man.

Even now, Din has no idea what to think as the man rolls his eyes and smacks Cas playfully on the left pauldron. "Castyl Vanda that was the worst possible thing you could have said. Of course this is exactly what it looks like. You've already lied to the poor boy enough. Don't make me sit here and watch you fumble your way though this mess you've gotten yourself into. Din, I'm sorry your dad here is a horrible fool."

"He's not my dad," Din seethes beneath his beskar, the hiss of it radiating from his helmet's speaker. "My dad is dead."

Cas exchanges a pained look with Daro, and the expressiveness of his exposed face only makes Din clench his fists harder.

"Din, you know I love you like my own," Cas patiently says.

"Not enough to actually adopt me, apparently." Din bites back and the look of anguish on Cas' face makes Din feel so uncomfortable that he wants to throw up.

How can this man who has preached this creed for eight years of Din's life, two of which Din has lived with a helmet upon his young head at the encouragement of said man, be standing here with his face fully exposed? How can such a significant part of Din's life be a complete and utter lie?

"Do you even believe in the creed? Do you believe in anything you've taught me?" Din whispers, hands coming to the sides of his head as he shakes it back and forth. "How can you expect me to trust you ever again?"

Its as if he wants to hold his own helmet in place, in fear that Cas will try to convince him to take it off and ruin all of the hard work he's put into the last two years of his life. Two years of life changing adventures across the galaxy. Two years of learning to be the kind of Mandalorian he always aspired to be after Aq Vetina. Two years of learning who he could be on the other side of his pain from that horrific day.

What fresh hell this new pain is.

Cas looks at Din, and though at first Din wants to look away, he finds himself analyzing the face in front of him. Tan skin, dark eyes, dark curly hair. Hell, if Din didn't know any better he'd think they could actually be related by blood. Who knew this entire time that this man really could pass for Din's father?

"Din, please let me explain myself," Cas pleads, accented voice desperate.

Anger bubbles up Din's throat along with his words. "Explain what? That you're an apostate? What could I possibly want to hear from you? You are an outsider! You're not Mandalorian."

Cas steps forward to place a hand on Din's shoulder, but the boy shoves it off. With a sigh, Cas explains, "Din, I am just as much a Mandalorian today as I was the day I saved your life and you became the foundling in my care. The only thing that has changed is that I've found love. Daro is ner cyare, Din. I wanted him to know me, and that included all of me. It was not my intention for you to find out this way."

"So you are willing to give up on everything for him?" Give up on me? The boy thinks, but is too scared to say out loud. Din glares at Daro then, who merely smiles awkwardly and waves in return. Din hates him in that moment. "He's not even a Mandalorian."

"He doesn't have to be. You know that our culture does not require it."

Daro chooses to interject finally, "But your culture does require that he hide that gorgeous face from me, and that I just simply could not abide. He's too pretty to keep himself under all that beskar."

Cas shoots Daro a look, eyes narrowing. "You're not helping right now, my love."

Daro shrugs, "I know. This sort of interpersonal drama makes me wildly uncomfortable, so I just wanted to lighten the mood."

"Again, not helping." Cas pinches the bridge of his nose, a sight that bothers Din more than any other he's seen thus far.

Din glares at both of them, declaring, "Take me back to the tribe. I want nothing to do with you."

Cas tries to plead once more, "Din, please. Give me a chance to explain myself. I would like for you to understand why the creed no longer means to me what it did before. I'm still a Mandalorian in my heart. This is still how I was raised. These are the values I plan to uphold for the rest of my life. I just also want the man I love to know my face. I want you to understand how meaningful my connection with him is to me. Just like my connection to you is meaningful. You are my family, Din. But so is Daro. You both mean more to me than I could ever truly describe."

For a moment Din considers these words, but only for a moment. The betrayal is settling in his heart like a stone, weighing him down with anger and hatred. His first father died against Din's will. His second father is now dead to Din as well, and this time it's entirely his choice.

Poetically, the dark clouds which had been swirling above all morning finally give way to an uproarious thunderclap. Lightning flashes and the thunder shakes the ground beneath his feet. Little dings and bongs of rain drops hitting Din's helmet create a metallic rhythm which steadies him, reminding him of who he is and who he wants to grow up to be.

"Take me back to the tribe, apostate. I will continue my training with a real Mandalorian," Din demands icily, turning on his heel to start back towards the ship and away from this man who's broken his heart completely in half.

Cas calls after him, and Din lets his tears fall freely under the sanctity of his helmet.

*****

"Din, you're nothing like him," you say confidently after Din's story is finished.

Din scoffs, "How can you say I am nothing like him when I have clearly caught the same affliction? That's the worst part of all of this. After all these years, now that I have you in my life, I finally understand why he did what he did. I even hate him a little less for it. That scares me, cyar'ika. It scares the hell out of me."

With a snort, you reply, "Oh, so now being in love with me is an affliction?"

"You know that is not what I mean," Din says evenly.

"I'm teasing you," you soothe, bare hand reaching for his gloved one. "You're nothing like him because you would have never chosen me over Grogu and we both know that for a fact. Creed or no creed, Cas chose not to be a father to you when you clearly needed one. You've been nothing but a father to Grogu since the day you met him. You didn't start blatantly ignoring Grogu's needs the moment I came into your life, and it sounds like that's exactly what Cas did to you when he met Daro. You fell in love with me without it being at the expense of your relationship with Grogu. I think that speaks volumes about your character."

Din shakes his silver head, shame seeping from the pores of his very being. "But I have not adopted Grogu. In that regard I am no better."

Frowning, you argue, "You said yourself that we are your family regardless of the rituals."

"But what if the rituals really do mean something? What if Grogu needs that gesture of security from us now more than ever?" Din's voice is so full of worry.

You heart breaks a little for him then, realizing just how much Din needed a similar gesture of security when he was young. A gesture he ultimately never received. You know all too well what it feels like to hardly ever receive the sort of love from a parent that you desperately needed growing up.

Tone shifting to a much softer one, you say, "Then we should perform the ritual with Grogu and make things official. I think that would be really great, but make sure you do it for Grogu and nothing else. Please don't do it simply because you're scared you're going to end up like Cas. And I'm sorry about him, by the way. It sounds like that was pretty traumatizing. I'm sure it was hard for you to trust people after that."

"It was incredibly hard," Din agrees. Then he sighs anxiously, looking at you with the tiniest of shivers in his broad shoulders. "What of my helmet? What should I do about the Armorer?"

Thinking on it for a moment, you inhale and ask, "I mean, what was her reaction when you lied?"

He shrugs. "I got the impression she did not believe me."

"And she didn't say anything?"

"No, she simply forged yours and Grogu's armor."

After a moment of thought, you giggle.

Din sounds downright aghast at the sound of it. "What could possibly be funny?"

"Din, babe. I think you're fine."

"You do?"

"Think about it," you say, "Why would she let us stay here and give Grogu and I armor if she was going to kick you out for being an apostate?"

He sakes his head, still confused as ever sounding. "I've been asking myself that for two days."

Smiling, you squeeze his gloved hand. "Well, in my opinion, I think you're safe. I didn't feel anything untoward from her when I was in her forge. If anything I think she's a huge softie for you and that's why Paz hates your guts. I mean, come on. You show up with not one but two outsiders, and shes not only totally cool with it but she goes on to make both outsiders a piece of armor?"

"You make a fair point now that I think about it…" Din trails off, voice already sounding much lighter and more like himself.

Frowning, though, you take on a serious tone as you squeeze his fingers even harder. "I do think it's wise to evaluate your feelings surrounding the creed. If it doesn't mean as much to you as it once did, that's okay. I just want you to be happy. You said your only regret is that you cannot show me all of you, and if that's true I just want you to know that I will never regret what we have or wish for anything to be different on my end. I love you, and I love any parts of you that you are able to share with me just as much as I love the parts you can't show me. We all have parts we choose to share and parts we keep to ourselves. It's up to us what we give to the world. That has nothing to do with being Mandalorian or a creed. That's just being human."

"Human," Din repeats, voice dreamy.

*****

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