Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

There was a noise.

Din moved before he even really woke, his blaster in hand as he blinked into the darkness of the room. Scanning for the threat with squinted eyes, his first instinct was to get his helmet. The second was realizing that he was not alone in his bed, and that it had been by choice.

Luke laid beside him, thrashing and whimpering beneath the soft moonlight that crept through the slits in the blinds. Din sat up fully, searching for whatever hurt him, but found themselves alone in their bedroom.

He looked down at Luke, who was writhing in the sheets and sweating across his brow as he grit his teeth and convulsed for seconds at a time.

A nightmare then.

It was further confirmed when, a second later, his blaster was ripped from his hand and shattered against the wall. Damn, that was one of his favorites.

A whooshing sound came, and Din slammed his back against the bed just as something else fragile flew where his head had just been, breaking against the wall into glass pieces.

Hope that wasn't important.

Din knew better than to wake him. He learned that early on in the Fighting Corps. Warriors were prone to violent outbursts in their sleep, but unless it was absolutely necessary, you should never try to coax them awake. It was dangerous for both of everyone involved.

A cry echoed down the hall, and Din was out of his spot a second later, his mind aligning things logically as he reached for his son. He wouldn't be able to help Luke, not like this. He wasn't present and he was dangerous - mostly to unsuspecting vases and weapons, but Din wouldn't take any chances until he was awake.

Grogu though, he could help. Ducking into the room and scooping the baby from his bed, Din pressed his small head against his bare shoulder, the soft fabric of his sleep shirt a hopeful comfort for the child. As he whimpered and cried, Din paced the room and shushed him, wincing as more things broke in the other room.

He should get the med-kit, just in case.

Tucking the child into the crook of his arm, Din dug in the cabinets in their refresher until he found the heavy-duty medical pack they kept stock.

He stopped outside of the bedroom door and leaned against the wall, murmuring softly to Grogu while he listened to the cries of his favorite people overlap. It felt like torture.

Eventually though, the crashes lessen, as do Grogu's cries, and Din knew it was an indicator on Luke's mood as well. If he wasn't fine, he was at least either sleeping dreamlessly or awake enough to control himself.

Din opened the door.

Luke was in the center of the bed, hunched over himself and shaking. Din's heart constricted painfully when Luke shied away the closer he got, but he avoided the carnage at his feet, set the med-kit on the side table, and crawled into bed anyways, settling beside Luke with plenty of room in-between them.

The man pleaded.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry-"

Din couldn't stand it.

His actions had always spoken louder than his words. He struggled with speech no matter the language and often felt his voice lacking, but Luke was hurting right now. It was nothing superficial, nothing Din could fix, and he hated that. This was an old, old wound that he didn't even know the origin of and would never really heal but Din knew that if he touched him right now it would only make it worse.

So Din sang.

He never saw the appeal. His voice was croaky and rusty, especially so late at night. He could barely carry a tune, and the stilted Mando'a lullaby he always chose left a lot to be desired. But it always calmed the child in their early days together, and Luke said that he liked his voice often enough.

Din didn't know why, but he did what he could, singing low and as smooth as he could manage, taking in the small mercies like Grogu's calmed snuffling against his neck and the fact that Luke was clutching the bedsheets and not his own hair in that tight, shaky grip.

He didn't know how long he sang, but his throat was dry and burning slightly by the time Luke sat up against the headboard across the bed, staring as his hands shook in his lap. Din's song tapered off into silence and Grogu immediately stirred. Clearing his throat, Din pulled one knee up to help support Grogu while he turned slightly to face Luke tiredly.

"Can I get you anything?" He asked softly, leaning his temple against the headboard as his adrenaline slowly wore away.

Luke silently shook his head.

"Should I keep singing?"

Luke shook his head again, then pressed his lips together and shrugged weakly.

Din started singing again.

More time passed, and his throat got dryer, so he paused to clear his throat and catch his breath, his eyes drooping but his mind every bit aware of the silent man beside him and the baby in his arms.

"I'm sorry." Luke murmured beside him. He hadn't moved.

"It's not your fault." Din said just as quietly. "It was a nightmare, you couldn't control that."

"I hurt him." Luke argued, voice tight even as it trembled. Din stroked a knuckle over the child's pointy ear, humming as he searched for the thing to say that might comfort him.

"Not intentionally, and nothing long-lasting. You said he doesn't usually remember his nightmares in the morning, right? It's blocked?"

"This might be different. It wasn't his. It was my fault- a memory. I- I-"

"It might not." Din sighed, wishing silently that Luke would look at him, that he would let him touch him and stop building the invisible walls he could see rising.

"But I hurt Grogu tonight, I lost control, how can you be so-" Making a high-pitched noise of frustration, Luke shoved his face into his hands.

Din waited.

"Why aren't you mad? You're barely even scared, why aren't you-"

"Who would that help?" Din tilted his head, eyebrows furrowing in confusion. "You didn't do this on purpose, Luke. You're hurting. I understand."

"You don't!" Luke raised his voice, muffled by his palms. Grogu shifted, Luke flinched, and Din watched him curiously. "You don't understand. You don't know..."

"What don't I know?" Din prompted softly after a tense moment of silence. Luke's expression crumpled, then smoothed with Jedi serenity. It always made Din anxious.

Still, Din waited.

"Darth Vader was my father."

Din wracked his memories for the name. It didn't sound pleasant, but who was Din to make assumptions? He didn't want to imply Luke's father had been an Imp if that wasn't where this was going.

"Who?" He asked instead.

That got his face to change, incredulity clinging to every line of his body.

And then he was laughing.

It wasn't a particularly nice sound. It was too high, too crazed, but Din watched him as he often watched Cara when he further proved he had lived under a rock. Well, the sewers really, but he'd been told that didn't help his case.

"Sorry. S-sorry, um. Wow." Wiping his flesh hand over his eyes, Luke had a small, incredulous smile on his lips. He didn't seem lighter, but at least the unfeeling mask was gone. "Never gotten that one before. Okay.

"He was a terrorist. The Emperor's right hand man. He used to be known as Anakin Skywalker. I'm not...I don't feel like getting into that right now, but..."

Din felt his shoulders relax. So he had been right to assume. He nodded for Luke to continue.

"Um. Well, on the second Death Star, everyone thinks I killed them both."

"Did you?" Din knew he didn't, if this was how he was speaking, but none of it was familiar past the destruction of the Death Star. He'd forgotten there were two of them.

"No. The Emperor- Palpatine, he tried to kill me. He used Force lightning to torture me." Luke gestured to the pale fern-like scars that peeked out of his sleep shirt and crept up his neck to curl across his cheek. Of course Din had noticed it. He's had his fair share of electrocution in his years of bounty hunting, but nothing like that. Nothing that scarred and became a leeching, chronic thing.

Din wanted to hold his shaking shoulders. He wished Luke would let him, but his distance between them was clear. Din stayed put.

"It was...worse than anything I can describe. But at the last second, Vader- my father, he saved me. He turned to the Light, and he died for it."

He died for me, went unsaid, but Din felt it hang in the air like a tangible thing.

He didn't know what the Light was in this situation - his grasp on Force magic was amateur at best - and he didn't know if he could say he liked Luke's father with knowing he had a part in the genocide of billions, but he knew it lingered in Luke. He looked conflicted just thinking about it, his fingers twisting anxiously together and his eyes crinkled in the way they did in distress.

"I-I understand if it's too much. It's a lot. I have a lot of baggage. If you can't- if you don't want to stay I understand. I know I'm a handful, and I'm dangerous to Grogu, and it- it's confusing to me so I don't even know what you're thinking-"

Din didn't realize so much time had passed in his silence, but he knew he needed to say something now. Contrary to popular belief, Jedi could not read minds.

He doesn't bother acknowledging his self-deprecating rambling. That was a conversation over spotchka and a fire.

"Would it hurt if I held you?" He asked. Luke looked at him with tears already bright in his eyes.

"Maybe a little." He admitted, but he was scooting closer anyways. Din held out his free arm and let Luke fall into him readily. His sweat-damp hair tickled his jaw from where his head rested on his chest, but he didn't dare move away. Instead he rested a careful hand around his waist and kept the pressure of it as light as possible.

"It does not matter who your father was; only the father you will be." Din recited, the exact Mando'a escaping him, as it often did. The reminder hurt.

"It matters to me, though." It almost sounded like a sob. Din pressed his lips softly to Luke's hair, searching for words that would not betray his conflict or make his love feel worse.

"You do not have to take his mistakes on as your own. You are your own person, Luke Skywalker." Din spoke lowly, the words coming strangely easily to him in the dark, Luke's shuddering breath hot across his collar. "Do not let the wills of others dictate your every decision. Your father's memory matters, but it is not all that you are."

Luke didn't speak for a while after that, but Din still held him.

And every night after.

⋆.˚

Din was just as exhausted as he was when he had woken up the last few days, but he had a much better head on his shoulders after getting a full on breakdown good cry.

Maybe Grogu was onto something.

Either way, despite being misplaced in both body and time, Din felt like he could get a better grasp on the situation. He didn't know much about the politics or methods of the war effort from this time, seeing as he had been taken in and put underground after the Purge, not to mention grieving his parents and village.

But Din wasn't that little boy anymore, no matter what his physical age seemed to think. He was a trained and infamous bounty hunter of his time. He was a Mandalorian.

Din needed to make a plan.

General Kenobi had said that any questions were welcome. The Jedi hadn't been around much in the days of Din's recovery, mostly checking in and staying in the background, but something about today made him believe it would be different. He called it trusting his gut. (Luke would have called it a disturbance in the Force.)

Regardless, Din was good at weeding out what questions needed to be asked, and he needed more information on this timeline to see if anything else had changed. The 212th battalion wasn't supposed to be in his village that day, so that was one inconsistency. Din didn't know much about everything else, but he'd have to figure it out.

From there, he would need to sift through that information for what seemed most important and figure out how and why it would be important to the Force or whatever deity sent him here.

(Surely, he thought desperately, the Manda would not be so cruel?)

The Jedi, he assumed, would be important. The war as well. He lumped the clones in with both of those, seeing as the Jedi were General's and the clones were mostly fighting the war for the Republic.

Din just didn't understand what his role was in all of this.

He decided to start with the obvious.

"Where are we going now?" He asked Helix after eating a ration bar for firstmeal.

"Coruscant."

Din's face pinched. He'd never been to the core worlds, and he would have liked to keep it that way.

"Why?"

"You'll have to speak to navigations for that, kid." Din sighed, an old habit, but it was becoming a worse one now that everyone could hear it.

"Can I?"

After promising Helix that he wouldn't be just running off to have a panic attack again, Din was given permission to visit the cockpit since that was where he would assume Obi-Wan or his Commander would be.

They weren't, but there were men piloting and checking their coordinates. Din stepped up to the nearest chair, observing the charts on their screen before making himself known.

"Where are we going now?"

The clone he spoke to jumped in their seat, cursing in Mando'a as they looked at him with wide eyes. They looked slightly younger than most of the others. Their armor was unpainted, and they didn't have as dark of eye bags as most people Din had seen on the Negotiator. Honestly, they still looked a bit wet behind the ears.

Din continued to stare. The clone said something, but Din barely caught it, tilting his head with narrowed eyes.

"Stop mumbling." He said, bluntly but not unkindly. The man blinked and cleared his throat.

"Coruscant, sir."

Din huffed to himself. He had been hoping for something more specific. He also didn't like being called sir. Helix never did. He glanced back at the charts and navigations.

"Why?"

"Aq Vetina was the end of our campaign, sir. We're going to Coruscant for a shore leave before the next. The General will be taking you with him."

"Where?"

"The Jedi Temple. Something about the Force osik- um, stuff they're all so obsessed with. I think the General said something about the council, sir."

"Hm." More Jedi. The council, apparently. This may be what Din needs. He focused back on the clone trying to look professional but was obviously nervous. Din didn't know why he was so intimidated by a child. "What's your name?"

"Er- Soil, sir."

"Thank you, Soil." Din nodded, turning around to head back to the medbay and stew in this information.

"The Force provides." Luke liked to say. Din wondered if that was true for him without his jetii by his side.

Manda did he miss his jetii.

As if summoned by his thoughts, the Force-wielding man of the ship crossed his path just then in the corridor.

"Ah! There you are, Din. I was just looking for you."

Concerned and a little curious, Din's trepidation must have been made clear on his face because Obi-Wan chuckled and removed his hand from his sleeves to wave it slightly.

"No need to be nervous. I just realized that I haven't had much time to talk to you properly since your arrival. How are you doing today? Cody mentioned finding you in one of the training rooms yesterday. Is everything alright?"

"Fine." Better than he had been, that's for sure. Obi-Wan seemed to sense the truth in that one word, because his close-lipped smile gained a few teeth, his blue eyes crinkling in the corners.

(Din knew blue eyes like those. Eyes that glowed in the sunlight and turned almost black in the night. Eyes that drifted when speaking telepathically with Grogu, eyes that became distant when trapped in the bad memories, eyes that softened and brightened every time Din removed his helmet.

Beautiful, beautiful eyes that Din missed so, so much.

Din needed to get home.)

Obi-Wan's smile twitched and sobered, his hand running over his beard as he tended to do when thinking.

"I'm glad to hear it." He said, moving his hand just enough to be heard. He seemed to have an idea, but didn't know how to propose it.

Din had learned well how to read the cracks in a Jedi's mask.

He offered a prompt of his own.

"We're going to Coruscant." He stated, not bothering for a confirmation. "Soil said you're going to see the Jedi Council. Why?"

Once again, Obi-Wan looked faintly surprised, in that jetii way of his. Din was getting frustrated at how it interfered with him getting answers. Children were always so underestimated. He hated it as much now as he had an actual thirty years ago.

"Din, would you like to join me in my meditations? There's a viewport I often use for it, it's vacant by this time of day." Din narrowed his eyes, lips twisting in a scowl as he opened his mouth, but Obi-Wan spoke again. "I'll answer your questions, young one, don't you worry. Though, I may have some of my own, if you're willing."

Hm. Questions. The General had questions, and Din didn't know how many he would be able to answer honestly.

It would be more suspicious to deny him though. And this was the perfect opportunity to get his answers as well.

"Yes." He nodded, waiting for Obi-Wan to lead the way. For a moment, his smile returned, pleased and kind, before he turned in the direction he had come and guided Din through several unfamiliar halls.

The expanse of space greeted them like it always had; with winking stars and the black abyss of space. It reminded Din of his years on the Razor Crest, alone but for the quarry in his hull and the blaster at his hip. He remembered how those days changed when he took in Grogu. His life had been full of the unknown variables that came with taking care of a child. Except he got one that could make things float and heal wounds with invisible hands.

Din wouldn't trade him for the world.

The stars made something old and nasty ache in Din's chest then. When Obi-Wan made an almost wounded sound beside him, he knew he wouldn't have the patience for whatever Jedi-speak he'd be saying next. They tended to beat around the bantha, and this particular Jedi had the advantage of a flowery core-world language Din didn't even want to try and decipher.

"You never answered me." Din said, staring at his reflection in the glass instead of dwelling anymore on the stars. He'd need his wits about him for this.

Obi-Wan hummed. It was either surprised or considering- maybe both. Either way, Din would wait him out.

"Din, have you noticed-"

"Get to the point." Din sighed, tilting his head slightly to meet Kenobi's eyes in the glass. The Jedi huffed, wiping a hand over his jaw to hide his smile. Din knew he thought he was cute, a child attempting to demand answers. (He always thought the same when Grogu thought he could out-stubborn him into getting cookies for latemeal.)

"Have you met a Jedi before, young one?"

Din sighed mentally. He wasn't surprised that the General was taking the long way, but he was a bit astounded that it had taken him this long to breach the topic.

(Luke had mentioned before how unusual his 'presence' was in the Force. He said he was loud and abrasive without his beskar, even when he wasn't directing his thoughts at anyone in particular. Once they were both comfortable enough, Luke admitted that he enjoyed basking in how warm he was, whatever that meant.

Sometimes it was too much, however, on the days that everything became too much in the Force for Luke. So Din had asked him to teach him to shield his mind, to make it easier for him. His beskar had dampened his Force presence, but he didn't want to hide himself all of the time, not now that he trusted Luke, not now that he could see him with his own eyes. And Luke hadn't wanted it either.

He wasn't a very good student, he'll admit it, but he learned enough to quell his emotions and intentions when it was required. It became second nature after a time, just like everything else that came with Luke.)

Din hadn't been very aware of his mental shields while staying on the Negotiator, more focused on the time-travel/alternate reality aspect of everything. Obi-Wan probably noticed something strange. (How had Luke simplified it that one time....the vibes were off?)

"...yes." He said, biting his lips as he contemplated what he should share. Obi-Wan's eyes on him were like a physical weight. "His name is...was, Luke."

Din watched the Jedi's gaze soften. He averted his eyes to the floor just as quickly.

"I see. How long did you know him?"

Din felt traitorous tears creep up behind his eyes. He squeezed them shut and breathed deeply through his nose.

Luke is not dead. He is alive and safe, somewhere in the future. Let the Jedi believe what he wants.

"Not long enough." He responds anyways, tapping his trigger finger against his thigh. He didn't bother trying to look away from the floor to decipher what expression that would warrant. "Why do you ask?"

"Well, despite not having any form of Force-sensitivity, you're quite...hm, I suppose I'd say adept in your mental shielding."

"You were looking through my head?" Din knew he hadn't. He would have known. He was stuck in there too often not to notice another's presence. (Luke could attest.)

"Of course not." Kenobi sounded genuinely hurt and worried. Din felt a bit bad. "I'm particularly empathetic when it comes to the Force and everything that flows through it when I'm not actively blocking it out. Emotions and intentions included. I simply ask because your emotions are extremely well-regulated for someone your age. It piqued my curiosity. I apologize if that causes you any distress."

Din grunted, holding his left wrist in front of him and shifting his weight to his right leg. A comfortable, confident position even as uncertainty filled him. How much could he share?

"Luke said I was loud in the Force. It hurt him, sometimes." Din admitted, pressing his lips together while he carefully chose his words. "So I learned. I forget about it, sometimes." Briefly, he spared Obi-Wan a glance out of the corner of his eye. He was watching him with keen attention, contemplating. "Is that why you're taking me to the council? My Force is... weird?"

That garnered a startled laugh from the Jedi, who quickly shook his head and held up a placating hand.

"No, darling, you're Force-presence isn't weird. It is simply...unusual." Din didn't bother hiding how he rolled his eyes.

"Weird. It's kriffing weird, and you don't know why, so you're asking your elders."

Suddenly, Din was reminded of the Armorer and her guidance. He wondered where the covert was now. He wondered how his people faired, before the Empire, before the Purge. Manda, he knew so little outside of his Creed and he hated it at times like these.

"Language, youngling. And yes, I suppose you've got the gist of it." Despite his reprimand, Obi-Wan looked nothing but amused. "I'm going to see the council and seek their opinions on the matter. The will of the Force can be a tricky thing at times, it is best to observe it from different points of view."

The will of the Force my ass, Din groused silently. He knew that was just what Jedi liked to say when they didn't want to explain their banthashit.

Whatever else Obi-Wan may have wanted to say was lost when a clone Din didn't recognize knocked on the wall behind them and gave a sharp salute.

"General Skywalker is on the line for you, sir."

And suddenly it felt like the air had been ripped from Din's lungs by the vacuum of space.

Skywalker. General Skywalker. Jedi-General Skywalker. Skywalker.

Din was staring at the trooper, eyes wide but uncomprehending. For a second, for an impossible, desperate second, Din pictured Luke on that holocall, doused in blue static but as beautiful as ever in his jetii blacks and shaggy hair that still needed a haircut.

The image vanished just as quickly as it had appeared.

"Tell Anakin I'll be there in a moment." Obi-Wan said, his eyes never leaving Din. The hairs on his neck prickled, his own sixth-sense flaring at the feeling of being watched.

Anakin Skywalker. The man that became Darth Vader and came back again. The man that hurt Luke.

(Also, eventually, the man that saved him. The man Luke had forgiven.)

Din felt Obi-Wan move before he saw him past the limited peripheral of his hood, and turned to face him just as his hand skimmed over the shoulder of his robes. Obi-Wan redirected the move into a hand over his beard, but Din knew better. The Jedi's brow creased heavily above his eyes, and Din just knew it had something to do with his vibe (or presence, whatever) in the Force.

"You should answer." Din nodded towards the waiting clone, not willing to give him the chance to dig deeper. When Obi-Wan opened his mouth again, Din turned and left, forcing the Jedi to be the one to follow.

At some point he maneuvered himself to fall behind Obi-Wan and let him enter first while Din hung back with the clone, consciously aware now of how strongly he held his mental shields.

They reached the meeting room quickly enough. As soon as Obi-Wan entered he approached the large table in the center of the room and waved his hand, activating the call and ending the blinking of a small light at the end of the table.

Din stayed just out of sight at the edge of the room, relying on the shadows for intimidation as he was used to doing. It was a bit less convincing with his bright red robes sticking out against the dreary ship walls, but he managed to hide under the radar all the same.

As soon as the ghostly blue figure appeared over the table in a beam of light, Din felt his breath slip away at the man he saw.

Din didn't pay much attention to the conversation forming between the two Jedi - he was too struck with the sight of him to care. 

He could see the similarities immediately between what would be father and son. Anakin Skywalker's hair was dark, but Din could tell it would become blonde beneath the power of a strong sun. His chin held a similar cleft as Luke, and his nose sloped almost exactly the same. His clothes, as well, were almost identical to the robes Luke donned for leaving the house; black, clean, and dramatically tailored to their broad shoulders and slim waists.

Anakin's eyes were different, however. Narrowed and serious as he spoke to Obi-Wan, not at all like the bright, curious blue that Din had come to know and love with half of his heart. (The rest, of course, belonged to his son.)

Din stared at the man that would be Luke's father, conflicting feelings of awe for the aspects he saw in his partner, and resentment for what Anakin did to him.

He didn't care if Luke forgave him. He didn't care if he was redeemed in the end, and he didn't care if he loved his son. He hurt him, tortured him, and created a galaxy that hunted him for sport more often than they praised him for his heroics.

Din did have to acknowledge one thing though. This man was not the same Anakin Skywalker that became Darth Vader. This was not the Anakin Skywalker that was a father to two steadfast and resilient twins. This was not the Anakin Skywalker that mutilated and destroyed billions of peoples' lives.

This Anakin Skywalker had not yet earned Din's fury.

But that day would come.

And one thing became abundantly, painfully clear.

Whatever reason the Force had for sending him here, whatever kriffed up, selfish agenda the universe had in store for him, Din knew one thing here and now, faced with one of the men that had ruined the life of everyone he knew; and many, many more that he didn't.

Din would find out what turned Anakin to the Dark Side. He would take that anger and fear and distrust, and Din would destroy it if it was the last thing he did.

By the Manda and his honor, Din Djarin would save his clan.

⋆.˚

Something specific and, admittedly much less pressing, nagged at Din throughout Anakin Skywalker's call.

Once Din had deigned to tune back into the jetii's increasingly heated argument with one another, he first noticed how either exasperated or uncomfortable the clones in the room were. (The younger troops that were referred to as 'Shinies' were almost always the latter)

The second was the actual context of their words.

"Anakin, you cannot keep responding so exceedingly recklessly when in the heat of battle. Your-"

"-lightsaber is your life. I know Obi-Wan." Anakin and Obi-Wan briefly spoke together, a clearly repetitive mantra among them.

The rest of their bickering was lost on Din.

Din instead thought distantly, yet longingly, of his beskar. His Creed and his soul. His honor. As much his protection as it was a target for all who had an eye for shiny dangerous things.

(Manda did he miss his beskar. He always felt a stab of envy when he passed a clone in uniform. They may be stuck with flimsy plastoid armor, but their helmets were as expressionless and useful as any Mando's. Din's hood now was a blessing, but never nearly enough.)

As the jetii continued to speak of rivaled methods and philosophies, Din's gaze wandered to the downright distressed look on the older General's face. He wasn't sure he had ever seen him so expressive, his frown tight along with the slant of his eyes, his eyebrows furrowing deeply between them. He wasn't even stroking his beard in an attempt to hide it.

Instead, his hands were rotating from clenching into fists by his sides, pinching the bridge of his nose, and rubbing his temple where a vein looked ready to pop.

And then he saw his lightsaber.

"Your lightsaber is your life."

Din suddenly remembered all of the jokes and stories of Obi-Wan losing his robes and lightsaber in battle time and time again. He was a master of the weapon and terrifyingly cunning on the field, but the point always came back to the fact that Commander Cody was always the one to find his 'saber and return it. He was known to even chuck it back at him across the battlefield on more than one occasion.

Din vaguely recalls Luke's teaching of his lightsaber. How it was connected to the Force and so therefore with its wielder. It wasn't sentient, but it was also a near thing. Din thinks he said something about it feeling Luke's emotions and showing preference to people he liked.

(He remembers once, early on in their relationship, before he had even taken off the helmet, when he had found the sword handle lying on a table next to his blaster. He had just been about to clean his own weaponry, and wondered if Luke would have allowed him to do the same one day. It looked clean, but scuffed and beaten in others. Old wounds for such a magical sword, but weapons had always fascinated him, and this was one he didn't entirely understand.

Luke had rushed into the room barely a minute after he'd taken the thing into his gloved palm, looking flushed and mouth agape as he stopped in the doorway and stared at him. Embarrassed at being caught, Din had mumbled an apology and reached out a hand to give it back to him. He'd confused the blush on the blonde's face for anger, and had been extremely startled when he grabbed the front of his breastplate and all but slammed their foreheads together.

"It likes you." Was all he had said when Din asked. Din didn't know how a kriffing sword could like anybody, but like many things with Luke, he didn't question it.)

It made sense, with what little he knew. Din had seen the way the Jedi and Commander looked at one another. Cody is subtle, yes. He was a professional, a soldier from the moment he was born. The way he masked his expressions and body language was genuinely impressive, but Din was well adept at what love looked like through such barriers.

Surprisingly however, Obi-Wan always looked like a besotted, lovesick massiff pup when Cody so much as entered the same room. Even Luke didn't look that bad when they were pining after each other. At least, Din hadn't noticed if he was. (Cara and Leia may have different opinions on the matter, but that wasn't anything new.)

Din needed to be alone. He needed to think about this all properly without the jetii there to risk sensing his emotions, and he wasn't gaining anything from listening to them any longer.

Without much trouble, Din left the room and wandered the halls once more. His first plan of direction was to go to the training room. He had it now on good authority that they did have blasters, and he really needed to give it a try. He always worked best with a firearm in his hand.

That train of thought was quickly forgotten when he heard footsteps further down the way. Din did not feel like talking to anyone else. Glancing around, he caught sight of a vent above him. If he were an adult, he'd have been able to pull himself up without much problem.

He had just decided that he was going to try anyway when Commander Cody rounded the corner in front of him. The man noticed him immediately as well, stopping once they'd reached each other in the middle.

Well, not the worst person he could have been stuck with.

"Escaping the warzone I see." Cody drawled, dry amusement pouring off of him with a tilt of his head. Din smirked despite himself.

"It got loud." Also not a lie. Din had forgotten how sharp all of his senses were without his helmet (and decades of constant concussions and explosions).

"Hm, fair enough. I was just on my way to wrap it up." From the casual way he said it, Din figured he could safely assume this was a reoccurring thing that happened with the Jedi."K'olar, ad'ika." Cody nudged the back of his head with his knuckles and regained his pace in the direction Din had just come from. Din sighed, but followed him anyways. He was too curious for his own good these days. He blamed his future jetii.

He managed to keep pace next to the Commander despite his shorter legs. He was used to trailing behind the likes of Paz when he was a foundling, who was always bigger and taller than him no matter how much Din hoped to gain that extra inch on the man.

It's during his attempts at staying beside Cody that he notices something about his uniform that was unlike any of the other clones. There was a clip on his belt. It wouldn't hold a blaster or any other weapons the Commander used, Din was sure of that.

It matched the clip on the General's belt. A lightsaber holder.

"Your lightsaber is your life."

"Commander." Din said into the silence, wondering suddenly if the two were just as oblivious as he and Luke had been.

"Din'ika."

"Are you and Obi-Wan..."

Cody looked down at his side, an eyebrow raised, looking entirely unimpressed. To be fair, Din hated it when people floundered as well.

"Are we what?"

"Lovers?" He decides to say bluntly, like everything else. The clone now looks faintly amused and a bit sad, but turned his eyes back to the path in front of them.

"The General and I are good friends. At least, as much as we can be within the GAR's standards."

Suddenly, Din understood.

"As long as you are under his command, the balance is unequal."

"Mm. Not to mention clones are not considered sentient within the Republic."

Din's face twisted in distaste. Over exaggerated, as he still wasn't used to hiding his expressions. Cody glanced at him and snorted, but not entirely out of humor.

"That's stupid." Din grumbled, giving into his childish vocabulary, fury rising with the wrongness of it. Sure, cloning was not moral and could be considered inhumane, but it was hardly the clones' fault. They deserved an equal chance. Rights and privileges, and a life outside of their creation.

"Hm. It is. But, that's an issue for after the war."

The war. The Droid War. The one they are fighting from every front.

Din has a bad feeling about it all. A very, very bad feeling.

They returned to the meeting room quicker than he would have liked. Anakin was already gone and Obi-Wan was where Din had left him, pinching his nose and shaking his head to himself. Before anyone could get a word out, a clone spoke from the other side of the table.

"The Chancellor is calling." They announced. Cody stepped just behind Obi-Wan's shoulder, and Din watched the auburn haired man lean into his presence ever so slightly as he ran a hand over his beard. Din watched them from his place out of frame, waiting for the General to answer the call.

A hologram appears, showing an extravagantly dressed old man. Din studied him as much as he can over the call, the way he smiled before he spoke, the way he gestures with his hands, and the way his tone changed the longer he went on.

"I look forward to your arrival." The Chancellor was saying pleasantly. "General Skywalker tells me you'll be bringing a guest."

Before Obi-Wan could even think of bringing Din into this, he glared at him from his place by the doorway and thought as loudly as he could.

'No.'

The General winced, nodding to himself just as Cody glanced at Din, as if he knew.

Din wouldn't be surprised if he did. The Commander seemed to know his jetii's mannerisms well.

"Indeed." Obi-Wan cleared his throat. "My ward is resting at the moment. I was actually meaning to ask you about my reports from before Aq Vetina..."

Din watched the blue ghost hovering over the table as Obi-Wan changed the subject. The corners of his eyes pinched, and his lips pressed together for barely a second before he smiled calmly once more.

Din was suddenly and completely sure of what his bad feeling was leading him to.

This Chancellor was a threat. Din didn't know how or why, but he knew he was important to the building narrative of this war.

Din didn't trust him as far as a jetii could throw him, he just needed to figure out why.

⋆.˚

Obi-Wan sat with his third cup of tea in hand, smiling softly as Cody did the same across from him, though his mug steamed of kaf instead. Their near-nightly routine of finishing their GAR reports and signing off on datapads was winding down to the most enjoyable part of Obi-Wan's day; gossip.

Though really, Obi-Wan preferred to call it 'catching up with the troops'. Who had been up to what on their breaks, what shenanigans the Shinies got up to and why it pissed off the medics so much. But most important was their well-being. Was Obi-Wan providing them the most he could in his position with all of the limitations set against them? He made sure that his men knew they were valued and cared for by someone outside of the vode, that they had an advocate for those ignorant and selfish enough to consider the clones anything but unique, incredible, sentient people.

"And how are you, my dear?" Obi-Wan inquired, his datapad long forgotten in his lap as he listened to his Commander recount the events of the day in the deep, soothing cadence his voice always took when they were alone. Not particularly special or different, but it came with the ease of sass and jokes tacked on with performative 'sirs' and 'Generals'. Embarrassingly, it had put Obi-Wan to sleep on more than one occasion.

"Fine, sir." Cody nodded, one leg crossed over the other as he slipped his kaf. "I was able to teach Din'ika some more over latemeal. The Daily Remembrance."

Ah. Ni su'cuyi, gar kyr'adyc, ni partayli, gar darasuum. I'm still alive, but you are dead. I remember you, so you are eternal. Obi-Wan was too familiar.

"I see." The Jedi smiled sadly. "Has he found comfort in it?"

"I think so. He seemed a bit upset at first, but he was also more relaxed afterwards. As always, he was thankful for me teaching him." Cody paused for a moment, his mouth closing as he mulled his words over, and Obi-Wan waited patiently with his tea. "He recounted eleven names, sir."

Grief speared Obi-Wan's heart so suddenly that he almost flinched, his chest aching for the boy that had lost so much and held so strongly.

This was, however, a familiar feeling. Cody spoke of Din more often than Obi-Wan was able to see him himself, so most of his observations on the youngling were through the strategic eyes of his Commander and his men.

After his first disappearance into the training room a few days ago, the Negotiator had been tasked with keeping a closer eye on the boy as a whole and to report back to Cody. 

This came with the fortunate consequence of more men getting to know him.

Din Djarin never raised his voice. His spoke bluntly and had a dry sense of humor that was familiar among the clones, but Din never shouted or screamed or threw childish tantrums. 

(Obi-Wan wouldn't consider the Training Room Incident a childish tantrum. Din had been completely justified from what little Cody had told him of the scene and what he had felt in the Force himself. The boy had gone so far isolate himself beforehand, clearly not looking for attention or comfort from anybody onboard. It broke his heart.) 

Almost conversely, his expressions were always bare and more telling of his emotions than his presence in the Force often was, as if he had never had to mask them. His face would scrunch and twist with each thought that seemed to pass his mind, and Obi-Wan could tell that he wasn't the only one hopelessly endeared by the fierce scowl he managed to pull when he disagreed with something.

Din also moved strangely. He stalked rather than walked through the Negotiator, and it was only slightly intimidating because most of his face was often hidden in the shadows of his hood, and despite his short legs he walked almost completely silently. 

He always moved his head on a swivel, reminding Obi-Wan of how the men acted in their helmets and on the field. Wide, sweeping turns of his neck that gave him a clear view of the room past the edges of the hood he always wore, limiting his peripheral vision even as he routinely watched whatever room he was in like a predator. Hs self-awareness sat oddly in Obi-Wan's mind, affirming his comparison to some of the bounty hunters he'd met in the way Din had little patience for conversational blunders and the feeling of confidence he could discern in the Force that he had control of every situation he was in.

There was a saying spreading amongst the clones; that Din was an old warrior's soul trapped in the body of a tubie. It was considered an honor whenever Din chose them to speak to or ask questions.

Obi-Wan and Cody had watched Din interact with the clones from afar in his time on the Negotiator. Those who were more familiar would guide the boy with light hands on his head, speaking their cobbled version of Mando'a whenever given the chance. They teased him for disliking the moniker 'sir' and let him tag along to observe their training routes and traded him by table in the mess hall during meals so that everyone got a turn talking with their favorite natborn (other than Obi-Wan, they had rushed to assure).

The boy took to their camaraderie like a Tooka cat to sunlight.

(Din also had a special interest in weapons, and his pre-existing knowledge of them may have been normal to the clones, but his intimate questions about how and when to acquire a slug thrower or an Amban sniper rifle were beyond concerning to Obi-Wan. He'd decided he'd need to keep an eye on that early on.)

All in all, while his bonds with the troops were strong, they knew little of anything that actually mattered to the boy. Even in their weeks together, Din disclosed little information about himself or his late family. Other than Obi-Wan's failed attempt at bonding (and a bit of interrogation, though he wasn't fond of it) they hadn't seen him mention anything from his life before they found him.

And now Din was avoiding him.

"I'm glad you're able to be there for him." Obi-Wan murmured, meeting Cody's dark eyes once he noticed how long he'd been stuck in his head. His Commander hummed, raising an eyebrow in that bemused way he always seemed to manage.

"You could be too, sir."

"He doesn't trust me. He fears the Force."

"Does he?" Cody tilted his head. "Above everything, I don't think he understands it, but I have yet to see anything that Din'ika actually fears."

But Obi-Wan had seen the way Din shut down. Since their conversation at the viewport, Obi-Wan rarely felt the boys shields slip these days, and the Jedi was not oblivious to the way Din was always where Obi-Wan was not.

"He still does not trust me."

"He doesn't trust anyone here, sir. At least, not completely. He is still cautious around the men and I at times."

"I just wish he would let me help him." Ever since the Training Room, ever since Obi-Wan had suddenly felt his shields fall, Din's guilt and grief and anger had suffocated him in the Force, he had been determined to try and comfort the youngling trapped in his loss. At the time, he'd barely been able to comprehend the waves and waves of feelings by the time an emergency alert had come through his comm from Cody, issuing a ship-wide search for the boy.

'Tubie acquired.' The Commander had sent not five minutes after, much to the relief of everyone on the ship. Obi-Wan had sat in his office, paralyzed, as Din's emotions were slowly reeled back into his core, soothed by homesickness, nostalgia, and the warm, sunny presence of the Commander that Obi-Wan almost knew better than himself.

"You're taking him to the Council." Cody reminded him now, leaning forward to catch his eye. "Whatever Force osik is going on, you'll figure it out. You're not alone, sir, and neither is he. He needs patience, and that is something you have more than enough of."

"You flatter me, dear." Obi-Wan chuckled half-heartedly, shaking his head. Cody glared at him seriously.

"I'm serious, Kenobi." Obi-Wan felt himself flush at his name. It was as close as Cody got to dropping their formalities. "I'm positive it's nothing against you. He's an ad who not only lost his parents, but his world as well. He is mature for his age considering he's a natborn, but that doesn't mean he shouldn't be cared for. You're trying, and that is more than anyone could be asking right now. It's not your fault he's being distant."

'Do or do not, there is no try.' Master Yoda's words appeared to him. Cody grabbed his hand on the table like he could tell what he was thinking. Even with the glove between them, the touch still burned into Obi-Wan's skin like fire. He didn't mind.

"It's not your fault, Kenobi." Cody repeated. Squeezing his hand, the Commander released him and sat back, leaving a faint pang of longing in Obi-Wan's heart. "The Force works in mysterious ways." He smirked wryly. Obi-Wan didn't bother to hide the roll of his eyes.

"Force will it." He snipped back wainly, smiling fondly at his Commander, who grazed softly back. "Thank you, my dear Cody."

"Nothing to thank, sir."

Obi-Wan glared at him sternly now, his own eyebrow raised in a challenge. Pink dusted Cody's cheeks and his Force presence beamed with affection, ruining Obi-Wan's expression in favor of his surprised smile.

"Of course, Kenobi." His Commander corrected quietly. Obi-Wan hummed, finishing his tea, and Cody rose to pluck it from his fingers and bring him a new one.

They left it at that.

⋆.˚

They arrived to Coruscant the next day.

While the rest of the 212th went off to relax in the barracks and get drunk at 79's, Cody joined Obi-Wan and Din's first trip to the Jedi Temple per the boys request (and Obi-Wan's silent relief).

Din walked between them, his eyes bright beneath his hood as he observed the busy streets of yelling people and roaring speeders flying overhead. His shields were as strong as ever, but this close Obi-Wan could feel his apprehension slipping through. The boy was extremely overwhelmed. Obi-Wan worried that meeting the Council might be too much so soon after just landing, but the Force led with agreement with his decisions. It seemed it would be better to get it over with now rather than later.

(The Force was strangely insistent, in fact, providing a stronger opinion than Obi-Wan had felt since answering Cody's call about an ad on Aq Vetina. Obi-Wan tried true and well not to question it.)

As the trio climbed the steps of the Temple, Obi-Wan felt the familiar signature of his former Padawan waiting for them. 

Obi-Wan wasn't sure what to expect. When Din had heard Anakin's name on the viewport - before he shut down, before he deliberately hid from Obi-Wan both physically and in the Force - his reaction had been a curious one. Startled and desperate, Din acted as though he already knew of Anakin. (Consulting with the Force afterwards hadn't provided anything helpful, much to Obi-Wan's growing frustration, but it pushed him forward now nonetheless.)

Once they reached the main platform, Anakin and his Commander, Rex, were already waiting for them by the pillars of the building. Obi-Wan flinched at the sudden spark from Din in the Force, an echo of what he had felt when he'd heard Anakin's name on the Negotiator. Anakin's gaze snapped to the boy instantly, his expression furrowing in confusion when Din tried to stand taller and clamped down on his mental shields under the scrutiny.

"Hello there, Anakin. Rex." Obi-Wan bowed to them each in turn once they were a proper distance away, earning a bow and salute respectively in return.

"Master. Cody." Anakin responded, his eyes straying briefly before they returned to Din's robed figure. Obi-Wan mentally sighed, wishing for once that his friends would act normal. He too turned his attention to the boy beside him.

"Din, this is General Anakin Skywalker, my former Padawan and the general of the 501st battalion. Anakin, this is my ward, Din Djarin of Aq Vetina."

From what Obi-Wan could see, Din's face had fallen into a wince at the introductions, his presence in the Force flickering along with his control before he peered out from beneath his hood.

"It's nice to meet you, Din." Anakin prompted kindly, no doubt picking up on the younglings 'kriff off' vibes even without the Force there to provide.

"Hm." Din squinted up at the younger Jedi, clearly unimpressed as he tilted his head, exuding the confidence of a man that should be at least three times his size, and yet he pulled it off ridiculously well for someone so small. 

Anakin exchanged a look with his former Master, the Force bouncing between them with curiosity, incredulity, and indignancy. Obi-Wan saw recognition pass Din's features before a scowl quickly took its place as he rolled his eyes. 

"Force osik." He grumbled, clearly for himself, but Cody chuckled beside him and ruffled his hair through the fabric covering it. Rex cleared his throat as he rotated the helmet held against his side, his own face wavering as his lips twitched.

Glancing between the four of them, Anakin scoffed quietly and waved them on to the open doors of the Temple. Obi-Wan felt yet another familiar presence lurking within its walls.

"We should go. The Council is expecting you."

Obi-Wan smirked, passing a hand over his beard to hide it as he so often did.

"Of course." The Jedi agreed. "We wouldn't want to keep them waiting would we?"

⋆.˚

It was even more surreal seeing Anakin Skywalker in person.

He was taller than Luke and Leia, built with broad shoulders and a lean waist. His dark hair is reminiscent of Luke's in the cold months, the style of it reminding Din of when Luke had decided to grow out his hair to his shoulders.

He also wore dark clothes - black leather with brown or red tunics. He could definitely see where Luke got his fashion sense and flair for the dramatics from.

As the group walked through the grand halls of the Jedi Temple, Obi-Wan had taken the lead. Din watched carefully as Anakin walked beside him for a while before integrating towards the back of the group. Then, when he thought no one was looking he veered off the path, slipping away from them to sneak behind a pillar in the darkness.

Din narrowed his eyes and slowed his pace to get a better look. Before long he saw Anakin's silhouette joined by another, shorter person. A glance of sunlight graced the halls, and Din could just make out the beautiful woman held tight in the Jedi's fierce embrace, her toes barely touching the ground in their hug, her arms thrown over Anakin's shoulders.

(Din remembered how easily Luke would fall into his arms, their touches becoming natural after spending so long living together. His first instinct became to bonk his forehead against Din's helmet and then, eventually, his skin. They had moved so seamlessly in each other's lives and became so attune with each other's bodies and presences that it was like two halves of a whole Din never knew he had been missing.

He felt it now. An aching void where his hearts should have been, his other halves not even reachable through body, mind, or call. He missed them dearly; worse than his beskar, worse than the Crest, and worse than his weapons.

He needed to get home.)

That must be Luke's mother, Din deduced. She was where the twins got their short stature and softer features. She must be already pregnant.

Din stared at them a moment longer, unaware that he had stopped and been left behind. He thought of Luke, of Grogu, his friends, and of how if his purpose here goes to plan none of them will be the same as he once knew them.

"Din'ika!" Cody called, making him jump and whip around to see that the rest had paused for him. Flushing in embarrassment, Din jogged to catch up, avoiding their prying eyes as he spared one final glance over his shoulder at the reunited couple.

They won't be the same, but they might be happier once Din's job here is done. He might not know them, and they probably won't know him, but if they're happy and safe and with the loved ones they lost, Din wouldn't dare to jeopardize that for his own selfish wanting.

("You are our protector, Din Djarin. You shall hunt and provide. You shall bear the burden of the galaxy as a face of the many in order to let our people grow. You will put your covert above yourself. You will face hardships, but you are strong. You will be tested, but you are clever. This is for the children, the foundlings, and the young. This is the Way.")

If the people he loves get to be happy, if they get to live in a universe without genocide and war, Din will let no one stand in his way.

Not even himself.

⋆.˚

Anakin does not rejoin them immediately, but Obi-Wan is not surprised. His old Padawan may think he's being sneaky, but it's an open secret among the Temple what General Skywalker and Senator Amidala are to each other.

Din's reaction was curious however, like it almost always was. The starstruck look on his face would have been amusing if not for the melancholy that stuck to him every second after. Obi-Wan met Cody's eyes above the boy's head, which were already looking at him questioningly. Obi-Wan pursed his lips and shrugged subtly. Cody glanced down at Obi-Wan's ward before garnering his vod's attention beside him with a raise of his eyebrows. 

Rex wasn't any help either.

They arrived to the Council's room quickly enough, and Cody and Rex opted to wait outside instead of joining them. Din seemed hesitant but accepted the hood ruffle and slight shove from Cody before he took his place a step behind Obi-Wan.

They went inside.

Only a handful of the Council was there in-person. Besides Anakin, the rest were present through holograms in their seats.

Meeting with the Jedi Council is usually a civilized, if stressful, affair. They were all powerful people navigating a war none of them were prepared for together, but they were a community first. They had grown up alongside each other, be it as Padawans, Masters, or Grandmasters.

The moment Obi-Wan and Din stepped foot inside the meeting room, confusion and astonishment washed into the Force. Obi-Wan smirked slightly to himself, noticing the way everyone stared at the boy beside him with various stages of perplexity. Din's shields were as strong and steadfast as ever, but the second he laid eyes on Grandmaster Yoda those shields cracked.

Din's signature flared of familiarity as he looked up at the green Jedi, shock and uncertainty leaking through his barriers for the entire Council to feel. The old Jedi tilted his head curiously, only to see the boy do the same in unison, their eyes locked on one another as a sense of knowing radiated off of the boy. It was an intimate, familial. Strange.

Obi-Wan observed the series of emotions that passed over Din's face before he moved on to the rest of the Council, his gaze sharp as he analyzed each member.

Master Mace was met with caution, followed by a hint of careful respect. An interesting reaction for sure, considering any of them had yet to speak.

Interest took place with Master Koon. The feeling was completely professional as he observed the masked man and the way he offered a slight raise of his hand in acknowledgement. Din nodded in return.

Master's Ki-Adi-Mundi and Shaak Ti led to similar, more subdued reactions, along with the rest of the Council. No one dared to speak as they all interpreted what the boy felt towards each person and, if it was possible, why. 

When Din seemed satisfied enough, he put his attention upon Obi-Wan with raised eyebrows, as if asking 'what are you waiting for?'.

Pushing the mix of confusion and amusement into the Force, Obi-Wan mimicked his expression before turning to face the Council properly.

"Who have you bright to us, Kenobi? Peculiar, they are." Yoda spoke first, tapping his claws along his staff.

"Masters. This is my ward, Din Djarin of Aq Vetina. He has been travelling with myself and the rest of the 212th division since the end of our campaign. His parents were killed by the CIS, and he was found by my Commander. He has since been taken in by the rest of the vod, in a sense." Placing a light hand against the boy's shoulder, he felt him tense before leaning into the weight. Din stayed silent. "We come here now seeking guidance."

"Hm. Strange he is in the Force, yes."

"Yet he isn't Force-sensitive." Mace tacked on. Din shifted under all of their attention, discomfort meeting them in the Force. Everyone turned their eyes to Obi-Wan instead, easing the feeling almost immediately.

"He is strong-willed." Anakin suddenly said, appearing from the shadows. Obi-Wan had felt him coming before he'd seen him, all of the Jedi had, but Din hadn't even flinched. He was watching them all coolly, as though he was used to being talked about rather than talked to. "Master, you mentioned that he's had previous training."

"Not so much training." Obi-Wan countered, sparing a glance to the boy at his side. He was looking solely at Anakin now. "But he was taught his shielding early. A Jedi named Luke."

"Know Luke, we do not. Darkness hidden, we do not feel. Not Sith. Last name, did this Jedi have?"

For the first time since they'd arrived, Din ducked his head, attempting to hide at the price of being unable to see them in turn, something Obi-Wan knew he hated. Din always wanted to know what others were doing around him. It made him nervous.

He was nervous now.

"Yes." He murmured.

"Know it, do you?"

"Yes." He said, even quieter than before.

"You won't tell us." Master Koon spoke softly, gently. He was always one of the best with the younglings in the creche (and like a father to his clones, but everyone knew that).

"I...can't."

'Not yet.' Echoed faintly in the Force, leaving all who heard even more confused and desperate for resolution.

"Why?" Anakin asked, his eyes narrowed in suspicion. Din bristled at his tone, and Obi-Wan squeezed his shoulders reassuringly (he hoped).

"Who Luke is doesn't matter." He grunted, crossing his arms. The Force rang with the lie. "My Force is weird. You all know it, and we all want to know why. So, why?" 

"It's a bit more complicated than that." Obi-Wan chuckled, sending a warning look to Anakin as he did. "I came here to bring it to your attention first and foremost." He said, now speaking to the Council as a whole. "I thought it best to gain some perspective. I believe it's something we can all meditate on separately."

"Hmm, wise, this is." Yoda nodded. "Around the youngling, the Force moves strangely. Not Dark, but not Light. Complicated. Warped. Confusing, his Force presence is."

"Yes, we've established that." Din commented dryly. Master Koon made a sound like a snort and Master Mace pursed is lips in a rare range of expression. Obi-Wan his his own smile behind his hand. Din's impatience was strangely endearing.

Suddenly, a Jedi Knight poked their head in the room, clearing their throat as they bowed and averted their eyes to the tense atmosphere.

"Chancellor Palpatine is on the line for you, Masters."

Multiple Jedi sighed. Anakin perked up at the name of his mentor.

"Well then, I'm afraid we'll have to resume this another time, Kenobi."

But Mace's words were hardly heard. The Force snapped with Din's rageful disdain, and it's so much stronger than everything else in the Force that it takes everyone by surprise. When the Jedi turned to look at the boy, his brows were pinched and his eyes were fiery as he stared at the Knight that had entered the room.

Obi-Wan wasn't sure he had ever felt such strong, overwhelming hate fall through the Force in his life.

"Din?" He asked softly. The boy's expression was furious and determined when he turned to face the Jedi, away from the rest of the Council. "What's wrong?"

His eye twitched and his jaw rolled as he searched Obi-Wan's face, his eyes darting quickly from one feature to another.

"We should go." He said instead of answering, just as quietly but entirely too firm for a boy who hadn't even hit puberty yet.

"Din-"

'Now.' He pushed into the Force deliberately. Obi-Wan paused, perplexed.

This was the second time the Chancellor had been mentioned in Din's present, and the second time he had purposefully spoken to Obi-Wan through the Force. The first hadn't been as severe, but from what little Obi-Wan had been able to read in the Force at the time, it definitely hadn't been positive.

This was downright hostile.

"Alright, young one." Obi-Wan agreed cautiously, offering his hand to guide Din out. The boy took it in his own instead, all but dragging them out of the room with stubborn strength.

What in the Force was going on?

⋆.˚

Palpatine was dangerous.

He doesn't think anyone would believe him if he tried to warn them. Not yet. They thought the old man harmless and insignificant beyond their politics.

Din needs more information. Proof.

(Manda, he missed when his beskar could do the interrogating for him.)

He knew one thing for certain though, his gut instinct and the memory of his jetii's pain sure and clear in his mind.

Palpatine was dangerous, and Din was a man of his word. 

Palpatine would not hurt his family again.