Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Escape me?
Never—
Beloved!
While I am I and you are you
So long as the world contains us both
Me the loving and you the loth
While the one eludes must the other pursue.

—Robert Browning from Life in a Love

It began after Jedi Master Luke Skywalker swept through the Imperial cruiser like a dark, avenging angel from the Unknown Regions, something out of a long-forgotten story or a nightmare you're just on the cusp of waking up from in a cold sweat. He happily accepted Grogu into his care and tutelage, and he reached out to Din months later. A recorded holo, with a dark hood obscuring the serene face Din feels like he can barely recall.

In soft, dulcet tones, Luke described Grogu's immense progress, as well as his emotional blocks and struggles. The Jedi politely requested the Mandalorian join them on Ossus if he was available and amenable.

All this time, Din is hunting for his covert, with Bo-Katan Kryze nipping at his heels along the way, from planet to planet. Needling him, pressuring him, imploring him to raise the Darksaber in the fight to retake Mandalore. Relying on commercial transports during his search for news, Bo-Katan easily tracks him. In a fit of frustration, he seeks her out despite their last heated confrontation.

"Ready to face your responsibilities?" Bo-Katan says snidely, striding forward before her Nite Owls and gathered forces.

"Ready to challenge me? Because we both know who will win," Din snarks back without smugness. He wishes she would.

Met with silence, he continues. "No? Then listen to me. I need time. I need space to think. It's been so abrupt, and this," he pulls out the hilt of the Darksaber and thrusts it out in a clenched fist, "is not my only responsibility. I must find my covert. And there is somewhere else I must go first."

An elegant eyebrow raises. Bo-Katan asks, "And where might that be?"

Releasing a deep sigh, Din walks closer to her so they will not be overheard. "The… the Jedi contacted me. About Grogu. I can't tell you where, but I must ask for a favor."

"What?"

"A ship. I need transport—reliable transport."

Bo-Katan bites her lip and crosses her arms, looking directly into Din's dark T-visor. "OK. You can borrow my ship—the Gauntlet. She's a Kom'rk-class fighter. You take her for your errand and search, but I expect you to return here in six months. No more. And you'll finally take up the mantle of Mand'alor, covert or no covert, kid or no kid."

Din grimaces beneath his helmet at her terms.

"Do we have an agreement?" Bo-Katan says with her head raised high and arm extended.

The bounty hunter resolutely nods, and they clasp vambraces in accordance.

With a satisfied smirk, Bo-Katan submits her ship's codes to Din's comm, and he nods in thanks before striding to the Gauntlet parked at the edge of the small fleet.

"She better not get a scratch on her, Djarin!" She calls after him.

He doesn't turn or wave to acknowledge what he hears. Just presses forward with a path laid out before him for the first time in months. Din settles in the captain's chair and releases a long breath, exhaling from his vocoder loudly in the empty cockpit. "For the kid."

With that, he powers up the ship and smoothly takes off to enter the planet's atmosphere. He quickly consults the Jedi's sent coordinates with the ship's star charts to calculate his jumps. Din punches in the coordinates and vaults into hyperspace. He's on his way. He's on his way to Grogu.

After three long days in hyperspace, only broken up by the monotony of field-stripping his weapons, polishing his armor top to bottom, and nibbling on unfulfilling ration bars, Din is more than ready to see the green surface of Ossus. He nimbly guides the Gauntlet into an open field, ready to start the next chapter of his journey.

And what happens over the next year, which passes more slowly and quickly than Din can imagine, transforms his life, outlook, Creed, and purpose. On Ossus, the Mandalorian finds a young man—this competent warrior dedicated to resurrecting the legacy of the Jedi that came before him—just as unsure as Din about his place in the galaxy.

A fragile alliance begins between the Mandalorian bounty hunter and the last Jedi—for their shared charge, both foundling and youngling, both apprentice and Padawan, Grogu. This alliance turns into a tentative partnership of mutual, quiet admiration, which grows into stronger camaraderie and flourishes as a close, trusting friendship.

Luke graciously offers to train Grogu and Din, the former in the Force and the latter with the Darksaber. Naturally, Din also learns about the Force (even if most of it seems like karking nonsense—"luminous beings," please). Still, even he begins to accept something else at play when channeling and working with the mysterious power of the Darksaber.

As the weeks turn into months, Luke and Din become more than friends but something yet unnamed. A natural and deep affection takes hold as they spend time together, learning about each other's cultures. Bo-Katan's six-month deadline looms, as does Din's impending departure.

He feels more ready than before to face his apparent "destiny" as Mand'alor, but Din knows he can't do it alone. This… bond between them has deepened into a profound friendship and, perhaps, something more that neither has fully acknowledged. Din's not ready to let it go—even as he listens to Luke lecture Grogu on the importance of letting go of attachments when the time comes.

"Will you help us? Help me?" Din asks imploringly, one night late beside the fire. He cannot lift his helmet to meet Luke's steady, probing gaze. "Please, Luke. I can't do this alone."

Din is startled as Luke's hand squeezes his shoulder. "You're never alone, Din. Of course, I'll help."

And he does. Luke is a steady, comforting presence at Din's shoulder, never far behind during battle, benevolent, offering advice when asked and providing silent support as Din rallies his people. Even Bo-Katan can't voice her displeasure—for who would turn down the aid of the galaxy's last Jedi?

They win. They retake Mandalore. As the dust settles, Din pulls Luke in against his chest for a firm, enduring hug. They’re both alive. Grogu is safe. His people are free. He couldn’t have done it without Luke by his side. Luke returns his embrace with a tight squeeze, fighting back tears stinging his eyes. They slowly separate as the clamor and cheers of victory continue to erupt around them. They are once again the Mand’alor and the last Jedi, not just Din and Luke.

As reclamation begins, Luke departs with a fond farewell and best wishes to Grogu and Din.

"What about Grogu’s training? What about mine?" Din asks, desperate for a reason for Luke to stay on Mandalore. To stay with them. With him.

Luke gives a melancholy smile. "I'll be here when he needs me. But right now, you need each other. As for your training, I think the Darksaber is in capable hands,” he says with a wink. “May the Force be with you, Mand'alor."

With a short bow and a flourish of his dark cape, Jedi Master Luke Skywalker departs amicably from Mandalore and Din's life. As promised, he sporadically visits to continue Grogu's training, and with each moment spent together (and apart), Din feels his yearning grow.

Chapter Text

One year later…

Din Djarin stands in his quiet, private study in the Mandalorian palace in Sundari, the weight of his reclaimed title, Mand'alor, resting heavily on his shoulders. From his window, he overlooks the sprawling capital of his people's home and marvels at how far they've come. Mandalore had been through a tumultuous period, and now, with the planet slowly rebuilding, his responsibilities seem endless.

Yet, despite the constant demands, there's a sense of…pride and purpose in his work. He called the scattered clans out from amongst the stars to return home like meteors showering down to the glassed surface of Mandalore. To answer the call of the Mand'alor and honor the Six Actions of the Resol'nare in full. A united front under the banner of the Mythosaur to rid their planet of the Imperial scum that continued to strive for the complete eradication of their Creed.

Under the leadership of a man who wasn't sure of his place in the galaxy until he found a green, cheeky child. A small, unique, extraordinary child who may have been just as lost as Din until they found their way together. And a little—well, a lot—of help from a Jedi friend.

'The will of the Force,' Din thinks bemusedly. 'That's what Luke would say.'

He feels his heart clench at the thought of the other man—his friend, confidante, teacher… his… Well, there was nothing else, was there? Mandalore—and Din, specifically—owed Luke Skywalker, Jedi Master, more than could be measured in camtonos of beskar. An ancient enemy from a dead Order dedicated himself to their cause with vigor and selflessness to finally see their planet and people free from Imperial influence.

Din misses Luke's beatific smile, loud, bright laughter, joyful eyes, and soothing presence. Lost in his thoughts while staring out across the city, Din is interrupted by an incoming holocall beckoning from the comm on his desk. After a day filled with endless meetings and planning sessions, the former bounty hunter feels cross at being interrupted during his daydreams. Is there no respite?

"What?" Din barked without glancing up.

"Is this a bad time?" An amused voice asks.

Din's helmet abruptly glances at the blue-tinged holo flickering above his comm. Jedi Master Luke Skywalker, looking as serene and composed as ever, stands before him, a smile gracing his face, eyes crinkling. It had been some time since they had last spoken, and Din's heart leaps at the sight of him.

"Luke! I—uh, I—hi. I didn't realize it was you." Din curses himself, tripping over his words.

"Din," Luke greets warmly. "It's been a while."

Din nods, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth beneath his helmet. "It has, Luke. How are you?"

Luke's expression turns serious. "I wish I were calling under better circumstances. I need your help on a New Republic mission. We've received intel about Imperial remnants in the Outer Rim, not far from Mandalore."

Din's interest piques. Any threat to the sector's stability was a concern, and if it meant spending time with Luke, he was more than willing. "Of course. What do you need?"

"We believe there's a base where they're conducting more cloning experiments. It's critical we investigate and shut it down. I could use your tracking expertise."

Din feels a rush of eagerness at the prospect of seeing Luke again, but he knows he has conflicting responsibilities. Still, Luke never asks anything of him, and he owes the Jedi Master more than he can put into words. "I'll be there," Din promised. "I'll have to make a few arrangements, but I'll be there. Just tell me where to meet you."

Luke's expression softens. "Thank you, Din. I'll send the coordinates. I look forward to seeing you. And as much as I miss the little gremlin, it's probably best if Grogu stays on Mandalore for this trip."

With that, the call ends, and Din immediately leaves his study to make preparations for the mission. Much to Bo-Katan's chagrin, he leaves Mandalore under her watch while away. She is more than capable and strong-willed, and she has never hesitated to voice her disapproval when she feels Din is being reckless. This time is no different.

"Are you sure this is wise?" Bo-Katan asks, arms crossed, her gaze sharp.

"It's necessary," Din replies, holstering his blaster before jamming more ammo cartridges into his satchel. "And it's Luke."

Bo-Katan sighs, shaking her head. "Just come back in one piece. Mandalore needs its Mand’alor.”

Din nods, appreciating her concern. "You may also call upon the Armorer if you need additional help." He turns and feels tiny claws tapping at his boots. He scoops up his child and waits for Bo-Katan to leave the room. He carefully sets Grogu on the table and pulls off his helmet.

"OK, buddy, I'm leaving for a quick mission. Luke needs my help," Din explains.

Grogu burbles with excitement at the mention of his teacher. "Patoo!"

"Not this time, Grogu. It will be dangerous, so I need you to stay here. Paz is going to watch you," Din says.

The child is very unhappy to hear this. He growls and stomps his foot, clearly expressing his displeasure. "Lu."

Din sighs in frustration. "I know, kid. I know."

Grogu babbles animatedly as if telling Din he cannot be left behind. He's undoubtedly been in unsafe situations before. His pointed ears droop dramatically, and his eyes widen imploringly like a porg staring into the void.

"OK, OK. But if Luke gets mad, it's on you, womp rat," Din agrees gruffly, caving all too easily.

With Grogu securely seated in his floating pram, Din departs with only his satchel and boards his ship, the Razor Crest II (he's sentimental, and no, he won't apologize for using his powers as Mand'alor to get him an identical ship to his old one), and sets course for the coordinates Luke provided.

The journey is filled with high anticipation, but Grogu eventually falls asleep snugly against Din's chest, lulled by the bright, shining hyperspace vortex. Din finds himself unable to rest, thinking once more about a certain blue-eyed Jedi, their unspoken feelings, and the hope that this mission might bring them closer together.

Upon arrival at the designated planet, Din carefully lowers their ship into a clearing beside a battered, well-maintained X-Wing. He gathers his desired weaponry and satchel, then disembarks with a now wide-awake Grogu in his pram. The familiar presence of Luke Skywalker immediately greets them. Grogu's delighted coos fill the air as he spots the Jedi, and Din can't help but feel a wave of affection at their reunion.

"Din," Luke says, a genuine smile lighting up his face. "It's good to see you." His eyes dart to the side at Grogu. "And my young Padawan…what do you think you're doing here?"

Grogu continues to burble and coo.

"I see," Luke says with a laugh. "As persuasive as ever!"

"Hi, Luke," Din finally replies, his voice softer than usual.

Luke smiles again. "I'm sorry to have suddenly pulled you away from Mandalore and your people. I've felt a disturbance in the Force building but couldn't pinpoint its origin. When Leia contacted me, everything fell into place."

Din nods in understanding. "I'm here to help with whatever you need."

"Thank you," Luke says. He clasps his hands together and stares at the ground, biting his lip.

The pause of hesitation is uncharacteristic, and Din reaches a hand toward him.

"What is it? What's wrong?" Din asks.

Tugging self-consciously on his cloak with his left hand, Luke rubs the back of his neck with his gloved right hand. "I— I don't know where to start."

The Mandalorian gives him a moment to gather his thoughts while Grogu looks on quietly in interest between them.

"Din," Luke begins again, his tone earnest. "There's something I need to tell you."

Din nods again, curiosity and concern mingling in his gaze. "What is it, Luke?"

Luke takes a deep breath. "I care about you, Din—more than I've ever cared for anyone. I've wanted to tell you for a long time. I know this isn't the best time to discuss this, but something inside me just won't let another moment pass without telling you."

Din's heart skips a beat as if it would burst right past his beskar chest plate. He feels his hands begin to tremble.

"I feel the same, Luke," he admits quietly, his voice barely above a whisper.

Luke glances up at him from beneath lowered lashes. "Really? You do?"

"Really." Din nods emphatically. "But you're right. We'll talk more about this after the mission. We need to stay focused."

Din holds a hand out to Luke, which is grasped tightly. The Mandalorian pulls the Jedi close to his chest, reaching a gloved hand up to push away feathery blond bangs. Slowly, as if to give Luke a chance to pull away, he leans his helmet down and forward to tap Luke's forehead gently. Familiar with Mandalorian traditions, Luke lets out a soft gasp at its significance. A Keldabe kiss would have to tide them over until the mission ended.

Luke closes his eyes, breathing in Din's scent of armor, metallic and petrichor, listening to the soft susurration of his breaths through the helmet vocoder. He presses harder into the touch, then pulls back with a grin—a mix of relief and anxiety flooding him. "Agreed. Let's finish this, then we'll have all the time we need to talk."

Grogu lets out a small cheer, and they separate for the moment. Din eagerly awaits when they can come together once more.
With their feelings laid bare, they begin tracking their Imperial quarry. According to the New Republic intel provided to Luke, activity was recorded from the atmosphere a few weeks prior by a patrol passing through the sector. Walking through the planet's dense forest isn't too tricky, but it takes a few hours of silent trekking, avoiding fallen logs, squelching mud, and unidentified creatures. They rely on Din's HUD and honed bounty hunter instincts for direction and stealth.

As the tall trees begin to thin out, Luke shields their presence with the Force, and they approach slowly from the treeline, using the forest as cover. Down a steep ravine, the Imperial base comes into view, with a few signs of activity. They retreat back about 200 meters to avoid detection and form a plan of action.

"Doesn't seem too heavily staffed," Din mused. "Should we wait until nightfall to infiltrate? Less personnel will be on duty."

"I don't know, Din." Luke frowns. He shudders a little as he gazes into the distance. "Something feels off. I don't know if we should wait."

"Luke, we're both tired. We need to be at our best. It's nearly dark. We can wait a few hours, maybe sleep a little ourselves so we're well-rested," Din urges. Beside him, Grogu's ears droop in fatigue.

The Jedi sighs and concedes. "OK, let's rest and refuel. I'll take the first watch."

The trio nibbles on some tasteless ration bars, and after Din sits against the wide trunk of a tree, Grogu nestled in the crook of his arm. His eyes fall shut as he stares at Luke's handsome profile in the waning light.

An unknown amount of time later, Din startles awake as Luke urgently shakes him. "Din, wake up!" Luke hisses. "We have to go—now!"

On his feet in seconds, Din blearily tries to get his bearings. He places a fussing Grogu into his floating pram. "What happened?"

"My bad feeling became a really bad feeling. We need to get into that base—I can't wait any longer." Luke starts jogging toward the ravine, leaving Din to catch up with quick steps.

"What's the plan?" Din voices as pulls he even with Luke, moving his boots nimbly across the bumpy terrain, looking for roots and loose rocks.

"Don't die," Luke quips as his feet hit the ground and continues his rapid approach on the base.

Din huffs and pushes forward, hitting the command on his vambrace to shut Grogu's pram and keeps it safely trailing behind him. His HUD picks up movement as alarms start sounding at their approach. They must have tripped a perimeter sensor.

Luke's gloved hand moves to his belt, and he draws his lightsaber. The ground beneath him glows gossamer green as he ignites his weapon, cloak billowing menacingly behind him. Din mirrors him, pulling up the Darksaber from his side and a blaster in his other hand. Dark Troopers emerge and begin a full assault on the duo.

They tackle each in their path as they enter the base, struggling a bit to melt through beskar-alloy—tougher than their durasteel predecessors. But they move seamlessly in a deadly dance, complementing one another as if they'd never been apart. Luke effortlessly disarms and knocks out the human Stormtroopers littered among the armored droids.

Grim satisfaction fills Din as only smoking carcasses and unconscious bodies litter the hallways of the base around them, heavy pants escaping from his vocoder. Luke barely looks ruffled, if a bit tired, glancing around for his next foe. A figure appears unidentifiable through the smoke at the end of a long, dark corridor. "Well, well. What an honor this is," a voice calls out.

"No. It can't be…" Din whispers in disbelief.

Moff Gideon, armored and standing tall, strides forward through the debris. "The Mand'alor and the last Jedi—what distinguished guests!"

"I don't know how you escaped New Republic custody, but whatever cloning experiments you're getting up to here, Gideon, won't work," Luke says, holding his saber close, ready to strike.

"Child's play," Gideon sneers. "The New Republic is weak, and the Empire is everywhere. And while I still think cloning Force users has merit, I'm currently invested in a new venture: Unlocking secrets of the Sith."

Luke flinches.

"Oh, yes. You know much about the Sith, don't you, Skywalker? Being the son of Darth Vader—one of the greatest Sith of all time?"

Gideon pulls a strange Sith artifact from his belt, turning it over in his hands. "And this—this will be the key to your undoing. I will have my revenge on the Jedi and on Mandalore."

"You don't know what you're toying with, Gideon. Hand it over," Luke commands. “You’re not Force sensitive—you won’t be able to use that without the Force.”

“We’ll see about that," the Moff says matter-of-factly. He presses a button on his wrist, activating several shield arrays, and he turns on his heel to leave the base behind, with a unit of Stormtroopers at his back.

Din and Luke rush to disable the shields, following Gideon outside as his ship begins its take-off sequences. "Hurry! We can't let them take off," Luke shouts. He pushes Grogu's closed pram off into the woods with a strong Force push away from the ship's blaster fire.

The Jedi throws out his hands, brow furrowed in concentration, and makes fists, pulling his arms toward his chest with the Force. The ship falters as it stops its ascent into the air, slowly returning toward them. Din lays down cover fire with his blasters as the ramp lowers mid-air. Gideon appears and shouts something incomprehensible, holding the Sith artifact aloft in his hands.

Just as the planet's sun rises across the horizon, a blinding light envelops them at daybreak. Din cries out as he feels a burning sensation across every inch of his skin, penetrating past every piece of his armor. Vaguely, he can hear Luke experiencing something similar. Sparks shoot across his eyes from the ferocity of the light, and Din's back arches as the flames explode into a bonfire. The scalding heat feels like his mind is burning and melting, being remade simultaneously. He hears screaming, and only as the sound continues for long, terrible moments does he realize it's coming from himself.

Finally, finally, the agony ends as the fire in his veins sputters away, leaving black spots around his vision. Din comes to coherency flat on his back, a concerned Grogu cooing and tapping his visor. "Bu?" Grogu gurgles.

He gently moves Grogu off his chest and sluggishly rolls over onto his hands and knees, breathing heavily. He vaguely notes his blasters and Darksaber idle by his sides. Din’s bones ache, as if he’s been electrocuted. Thinking of Luke and his pain from that exact trauma, Din staggers to his feet, dazed, and looks around.

The Imps are gone—fled during their disorientation, no doubt. The pram floats empty beside him. Din scoops Grogu into his arms tightly, unwilling to let him go just yet.

Shaking his head, Din spins around to search for Luke. He squints behind his visor against the sunlight filtering through the trees, desperately looking for the Jedi. "Luke? Luke! Where are you?"

He glances around, growing increasingly uneasy. "Luke! Please, answer me!" Panic begins to set in. "Luke!"

Din feels Grogu tapping insistently on his armor. "Not now, Grogu. We need to find Luke. He could be hurt."

Grogu growls and taps again. "Lu! Lu!" The child points frantically to the right.

The Mandalorian follows his son's gesture to the closest tree, his attention drawn to a bird of prey on its lowest branch. He's never seen a bird of its like before. Din stares in astonishment before pulling his helmet off, unable to believe his eyes.

The resplendent feathers of the golden hawk gleam in the soft early light—a radiant blend of burnished gold and tawny hues that shimmer with every twitch as if agitated. The tips of its wings are darker, flecked with shadows of bronze and deep ochre, giving an impression of age-old wisdom and power.

A regal crown of feathers frames its head, accentuating the proud curve of its sharp beak—designed for swift, decisive action. The hawk's body is sleek and aerodynamic, built for speed and precision, with talons like polished obsidian, ready to strike with deadly accuracy. Finally, Din meets the hawk’s gaze. Sharp, piercing eyes—an otherworldly, unnatural blue that is unmistakable, glinting with fierce intelligence. Din falls to his knees, bereft, as the bird releases a forlorn, piercing call. It's Luke.

Chapter Text

A change felt but not understood throughout the system is apparent after the events of that fateful day. What happened at the Imperial base on an Outer Rim planet? Little details are known, but information leaks persist from the Senate. The galaxy’s only Jedi—and known friend of Mandalore—and the ruler of Mandalore undertook a covert mission in purportedly Imperial-occupied space. Rumors, whispers, and speculation abound among the galaxy’s citizens.

Mand’alor Din Djarin remains mum on the matter, putting out a statement from his close advisor, Bo-Katan Kryze:

Mandalore's affairs are solely the Mandalorian people's concern. As such, we will not be answering unsolicited inquiries or engaging in idle speculation regarding the internal matters of our planet, culture, or people.

Should any representative of the New Republic or other formal planetary entity wish to collaborate or address matters of mutual interest, we invite them to submit a formal request through the appropriate diplomatic channels. These will be reviewed with due consideration.

Beyond this, all matters pertaining to Mandalore remain private, and we ask that this privacy be respected.

—Mand’alor Din Djarin

The message is clear. Mandalore’s business is Mandalore’s alone. But questions and upset reign in Chandrila, at the heart of the New Republic’s leadership: Where was Jedi Master Luke Skywalker? Mandalore offers no answers, nor does the New Republic, or more specifically, no clear statement would be offered by one Leia Organa-Solo, his sister. After a month of hounding, persistent questioning, the Senator from Alderaan only provides this statement:

To the citizens of the New Republic and all concerned parties,

At this time, I cannot comment on the New Republic's ongoing activities or provide any information regarding the whereabouts or actions of my brother, Jedi Master Luke Skywalker. These matters are private and remain beyond the scope of public discourse.

I respectfully ask that the public and media refrain from further questions on this topic and allow my family and myself the privacy we are entitled to.

Any formal inquiries related to these subjects should be directed to the Office of the Chancellor, which will handle them through established diplomatic and procedural channels.

I appreciate your understanding and cooperation in this matter.

—Leia Organa-Solo, Senator of Alderaan

The conjectures and theories do not end, but slowly, the galaxy moves on when other scandals of the Inner Core transpire.

Time passes slowly; months and months crawl until more than a year elapses. Mandalore continues to prosper under the Mand’alor’s leadership. Trade agreements are established, refugees resettle, and connections with the New Republic are strengthened despite tense negotiations. Other changes make themselves known to the Mandalorian people.

It has yet to be discovered when it happened. No one is certain why or how. Rumors spread rampantly throughout Sundari, murmuring tales of the Mand’alor and his haunting golden hawk. The people speak of the special pauldron affixed to his beskar armor, designed for the hawk’s sharp talons to rest upon. Whenever the Mand’alor makes appearances, the hawk soars high above him, wings flashing in the sunlight, always returning to the Mand’alor’s outstretched, beckoning hand.

No one can handle the hawk—save for the Mand’alor. He treats the bird with careful respect, with obvious affection once thought only reserved for his son. The Mand’alor stands, a figure of undeniable strength and command, yet always accompanied by a creature more enigmatic than his imposing presence—the haloed hawk, with its eyes sharp and watchful, always perched upon his shoulder like a sentinel. This bird is no mere companion.

The Mand'alor is protective over his prized hawk, his gloved hand often resting near it with the subtle care of one tending to something precious and irreplaceable. Should any show disrespect, a slow, unsettling rumble of disapproval usually follows from the Mand’alor, his posture shifting with a silent, predatory grace that hints at immediate retribution.

He nurtures the creature with a quiet reverence. Yet, evident to anyone in their presence, this bond is not one of mere fondness—but love. Together, they form an inseparable pair, each guarding the other in a way few can comprehend—one the embodiment of strength, the other of swift, unrelenting precision.

There is an unspoken warning for those who dare to meet the bird’s eyes too long. The hawk’s unnatural blue stare is piercing, a predator’s gaze that sees into the soul of those who falter under its scrutiny. While their leader never removes his helmet, anyone in his presence always feels watched by the luminous, intelligent eyes of the fierce-feathered hunter by his side. It’s how their leader finally earns his title: Mand’alor the Vigilant.

Further, frightened anecdotes spread of a lurking beast in the shadows of Mandalore. In the deepest reaches of the planet’s glassed surface, where the light dares not venture, the tales tell of a beast—a silver wraith, a Loth wolf-like creature—vast and fearsome, stirs dread in the hearts of those who thrive in darkness. Would-be criminals and smugglers hoping to prey upon Mandalore’s growing and diverse population declare the creature to be a force of vengeance and terror.

Its thick, weathered coat gleams like molten silver under a ghostly moon, a living cascade of shimmering unpainted beskar. An ethereal grace flows through it as it stalks through the darkened streets. Upon first glance, its eyes are black voids—in reality, they are twin orbs of umber ash smoldering with intensity. Defined muscles ripple beneath its sleek fur, each movement silent but filled with the coiled power of a predator that knows no equal.

Several eyewitnesses claim to have seen the wolf attack during the night, hearing its snarls and deep, resonating barks. The growls reverberated through their bones, feeling colder and sharper than any blade. Its maw, lined with gleaming, dagger-like fangs, could tear through durasteel as easily as it shreds the wicked who fall under its gaze. Its breath, cold as Hoth, freezes the air, and its massive paws strike with the weight of an armorer’s hammer, leaving no trace but a memory of terror in the wake of its silent hunt.

Parents whisper stories to their children not only of this monstrous guardian but also of its master, who walks beside it in the shadows. With a dark cloak, this unknown warrior and his canine companion are said to prey upon those who feed on corruption and cruelty, dragging them into the abyss where light cannot follow. Larger than life, more spirit than flesh, they thrive in the darkness, eternal hunters walking the fine line between myth and nightmare, ensuring that even in the underworld, the villainous find no peace.

But these are just stories, of course.

______________________________

Din sits at the head of the Council table, nodding intermittently as he listens to a clan leader discuss recent building developments on the west side of Sundari. Beneath his helmet, he absently keeps an eye on the sun’s position outside the tall transparisteel windows of the chamber. The number of new Mandalorians and refugees arriving every week hasn’t slowed, so they need more stable infrastructure and housing immediately. He’s proud—so proud—of his people, of his planet.

Yet, despite the outward signs of success and pride, the Mand’alor’s close companions know the truth. Din has a shadow that looms over him figuratively and literally, and he feels more weary than ever. He continues to find joy in time with Grogu and, of course, his other constant companion. As if feeling his melancholy, the hawk on his shoulder subtly flaps its wings, sharp beak gently tapping against his helmet.

Din sighs, raising a finger to gently push back the raised, feathered plume upon the hawk’s head. Its eyes flutter shut in pleasure, a soft purr of sorts emanating from its breast and light clicks from its beak. Luke, his beloved Luke, cursed into this form that fateful day when they faced Gideon. And Din, as he later found when he returned to Mandalore with Grogu and Luke as a hawk, was also cursed. Until they can find a way to break the curse, Din and Luke must wander the galaxy, always together yet always apart—Din a wolf by night, transformed into human form at the break of each day’s dawn; Luke a hawk by day and restored to himself only with the setting of each day’s sun.

The building report ended, and as Din motions to end the meeting, Clan Leader Shulo interjects loudly. “We still have much to discuss, Mand’alor. This needless time restriction on council meetings is unproductive.”

Din clenches his hand into a tight fist. “We limit these meetings to three hours to respect the personal lives of our council members. We will pick this back up tomorrow.”

Shulo, with his helmet resting on the table, slams his hands down and abruptly stands. “No! We will finish this now. I need approval for my arms deal today.”

Bo-Katan intercedes. “Your deal was only presented to the Council yesterday. It needs to undergo committee review before it can be approved.”

Arguing breaks out across the table, some voices calling for peace, others agreeing with the dissenter.

“Why should I have to wait around, twiddling my thumbs, when the Mand’alor just wants to play house with his ‘son’—” Shulo spits with disdain, “—and his precious pet?”

A piercing kree-ee-ar breaks through the dissonance, and everyone present falls silent. Pushing back slowly from his seat, chair scraping gratingly against the floor, Din stands to his full height and moves around the table to stand before Clan Leader Shulo. The man swallows nervously, eyeing both the Darksaber swinging at the Mand’alor’s side and the penetrating gaze of the hawk.

Din leans in closely, so only Shulo can hear him. “If you speak out of turn again, if you dare go behind our backs on this deal, if you so much as breathe a word about my family, you’ll first lose your tongue, then your head.”

He takes a step back. “Am I clear, Clan Leader Shulo?”

The cowed man scowls, but nods. “I understand, Mand’alor.”

Bo-Katan slightly inclines her head toward the window. Din follows her movement. The sun is reaching its final descent.

“This meeting is dismissed. Everyone out,” he commands.

The gathered advisors and clan leaders bow to their Mand’alor before beating a hasty retreat. Bo-Katan closes the heavy doors behind her, as the last to exit, leaving Din alone in the chamber. She nods to Vizsla as he sidles up to stand in front of the doors beside her, arms crossed.

As the sun sinks beneath the horizon, casting a golden haze across the sky, the air around Din and the hawk shimmers with an otherworldly energy. The hawk, its radiant plumage aglow in the dying light, shifts on Din’s pauldron, talons loosening their grip as the change begins. Its wings unfurl one final time, gleaming like molten gold before dissolving into tendrils of light that spiral downward, reshaping themselves into something new.

In the span of a breath, where the fierce bird once existed, a man emerges—lithe, yet strong, with hair the color of sunlight, cascading in soft curls over his ears. His eyes, a piercing blue, seem to hold the depth of the sky just before twilight descends. He is clad in robes as dark as the encroaching night. For a fleeting moment, he stands before Din, no longer a bird of prey but something just as wild, just as fierce.

Without a word, Din reaches out, his gloved hand trembling as it finds Luke’s. Their fingers intertwine, the strength in Din’s grip belying the softness in his hidden eyes. With desperate urgency, Luke presses his forehead to the cool metal of Din’s helmet, a silent communion passing between them—no words, only the raw, aching need for connection in a moment far too brief.

The world around them seems to fade, their breaths coming in unison, shared in the precious seconds they have. There is no time for speech, no space for anything but the pressure of their Keldabe kiss, the warmth of their hands locked together, and the unspoken bond that fills the silence between them.

As the last sliver of the sun dips and twilight swallows the sky, the transformation begins anew. The Mand'alor’s form shudders, muscles shifting beneath his armor as beskar melts and ripples across his skin, replacing flesh with fur. His armor fades into the mist of dusk, replaced by a coat of shimmering silver. His shape broadens, limbs elongating into powerful legs and paws. In moments, where once stood the former bounty hunter, there now towers a great silver wolf—larger than life, eyes burning intensely, proud and untamed.

Yet even as the transformation takes hold, the connection between them remains unbroken. Luke, still clutching the wolf’s massive form, presses his forehead to the creature’s, refusing to release him, his arms wrapping tightly around the wolf’s thick neck. The embrace is firm, as though he could hold time still with the strength of his grip. Din, now fully transformed, lowers his massive head, pressing his muzzle softly against Luke’s in return, a quiet acceptance, a promise not to pull away.

For this moment, they hold fast to each other. The world around them has disappeared, leaving only the two of them suspended in that tender, desperate embrace, unwilling to let the night, or fate, tear them apart.

_______________________________

A knock on the chamber door causes Luke to reluctantly pull away. He rubs one of Din’s pointed ears and calls out, “You can come in.”

The door opens and closes as Bo-Katan re-enters the room. “Skywalker,” she greets.

Luke smiles at her. “I thought you were going to start calling me Luke, Lady Kryze.”

She purses her lips. “Would you prefer Alo’ridduur instead?”

“Stars, no,” Luke says with a snort. “We’re not married.”

“Not yet, anyway,” Bo-Katan mutters under her breath.

“Any news on Gideon’s whereabouts?” Luke asks, temporarily stopping movement of his hand on Din’s head.

“No. No news. I’m sorry,” Bo-Katan offers, genuinely disappointed she doesn’t have something better to tell Luke night after night.

“I figured as much,” Luke says, eyes downcast. Din chuffs and butts his head against Luke’s arm. “Hey! Stop that.” Din ignores him and presses a cold nose into his hand. The Jedi laughs and gently pushes him away.

“Do you need anything from us tonight?” Luke asks.

Bo-Katan shakes her head. “No. Take the night off. Go spend time with the kid.”

She opens the door for Luke, with Din trailing close behind him—an ever-present protector and shadow.

“Hey, Paz,” Luke greets kindly.

“Hello, little jetti,” Paz returns teasingly, lightly punching him in the arm.

Din’s dark eyes glint at the action and he growls deep within his chest.

“Oh, please, vod. He’s fine,” Paz said dismissively, well aware of his brother’s overprotectiveness. Not to mention the many times Luke beat his own ass in sparring. He knows the Jedi can hold his own.

“C’mon, Din,” Luke says, placatingly stroking his back. “Let’s go find, Grogu.”

They quietly walk down the empty halls, devoid of guards and household activity. This wing of the palace belonged to the Mand’alor and his clan. All others were expressly forbidden after sunset—to protect both their secret and their privacy. Luke’s mind wanders as he listens to the soft clicks of Din’s claws on the stone floors.

Would they ever find the answer to this curse? After their encounter with Gideon, Din arrived back onto Mandalore in a panic, Grogu clutched under one arm and Luke, as a hawk, stashed in his satchel. He beat a hasty retreat to his quarters, placed Grogu on the couch as he cooed and looked on worriedly, then freed Luke from his bag.

They stared at one another, bounty hunter and hawk, before erupting into chaos. Luke flapped uselessly about the room, molting feathers, as Din paced the floor. Without either of them noticing, the sun was setting on Mandalore. That’s when Din’s own transformation took place and Luke reverted to his human form. Once they realized the parameters of the curse, they still panicked, but Luke came up with a course of action. Really, the only one he could think of: Call Leia.

After reaching Leia and bringing in an annoyed, then bewildered Bo-Katan, the story unfolded. They talked through the night until first light, when the transformation took hold again—Luke back to a hawk, Din back to a man. Fleeting, and oh so quick, the change happened swiftly and without mercy. Despite Leia’s early optimism that surely they would find a solution, nothing immediately presented itself.

Han and Chewbacca scoured temples across the galaxy for clues, with little luck. Leia sent all and any ancient Jedi texts Luke had collected over the years to Mandalore. During his nightly research and slow translations, Luke only recently found vague references to their curse. Apparently, it originated from a Sith artifact, likely the very same one Gideon had obtained.

One holocron containing a recording of a mysteriously shrouded Jedi from millennia ago spoke of the curse in riddles:

By moon's soft glow and sun's bright ray,
Two souls are torn, kept far away.
One soars with wings in golden light,
The other prowls in silver night.
A curse it is that holds them fast,
Together never, as long as it lasts.
Yet when the day becomes night, and the night becomes day,
Their forms in flesh must find their way.
Before the artifact, they both must stand,
True hearts revealed by fate's own hand.
Only then, with the moment right,
Can they break the curse and reunite.

That was nearly three months ago, and they are no closer to solving the riddle. Even if they could unravel it, they needed the Sith artifact. So, they continue to hunt for Gideon. Leia, Han, and Luke’s inner circle continued to search for leads, but it was as if Gideon had disappeared entirely. To protect their secret, they let the galaxy believe that Jedi Master Luke Skywalker vanished after the ill-fated mission.

On Mandalore, Luke and Din spend their nights and days together, finding solace in each other’s presence. They can’t speak or read each other’s thoughts, but their bond needs no words. They communicate through touch, through soft, tender looks, and through their unwavering commitment to breaking the curse.

The soft glow of evening fills the palace as Luke and Din arrive at the Mand’alor’s private quarters. Luke opens the door and steps inside, nodding at Koska who dips her head in return. A warm smile spreads across Luke’s face as he sees Gorgu waddling towards him in excitement.

“Lu! Lu!” the child squeals, launching into the man’s arms. He catches the child effortlessly, laughing as he spins them around.

Din watches Luke scoop his son up into his arms, his eyes filled with a deep affection. He nods his wolf head at Koska who slips from the room. His ears twitch as Grogu babbles happily about his day.

Luke carries him over to the couch and sits with him in his lap, nodding seriously. “I see. That must have been very exciting!”

The wolf rests his head on the cushion beside Luke and releases an exaggerated woof.

“Grogu lifted five frogs out of the pond at once, but he accidentally dropped one on Koska’s head. She was not amused,” Luke explains with a laugh.

Grogu, giggling, immediately turns to the wolf, wrapping small arms around the beast’s strong neck. Din gives a low, contented huff before nudging his son’s cheek with his wet nose, a subtle invitation to play.

“What shall it be tonight?” Luke asks with a grin. “Hide-and-seek again?”

Grogu’s eyes sparkle with delight as he Force hops off of Luke’s lap and runs off, trying to outwit the wolf. The great silver beast tilts his head, waiting a moment as if to give the child a head start, before slinking quietly after him, his movements graceful despite his size. The game fills the room with laughter, the child’s quick footsteps skittering over the floors, always followed by the wolf’s soft, barely-there padding and the occasional bark of discovery.

After the game, the three of them gather around the low table, sitting on cushions. The meal is simple and filled with warmth—hearty tiingilar and fresh bread. After dinner and clearing their plates, Luke pours steaming mugs of cocoa, the rich scent filling the room as Grogu sips happily, eyes wide with satisfaction. Din lays beside them, watchful and calm, occasionally nudging the child’s clawed hand with his nose to remind them he was there.

When done, they move to a low bed placed near the open windows. It’s cozy, filled with soft blankets and plush pillows. The fire in the nearby hearth crackles softly as Luke picks up a book, settling onto the bed with Grogu tucked close. The wolf lays on the other side of the child, his massive head resting protectively next to Grogu’s lap. As Luke reads aloud, his voice steady and soothing, the child absentmindedly strokes the wolf’s fur, lulled by the rhythmic cadence of the story.

When the tale comes to an end, Grogu, now sleepy-eyed, clings to the wolf as if seeking comfort for the night ahead. Din responds with a soft whine, leaning in and gently licking his son’s cheek, the touch so tender it seemed almost human. Grogu giggles, hugging the wolf’s neck before nestling into the space between the two of them.

Luke removes his boots and curls up against the wolf, the child snug against his chest, cocooned in the warmth of their embrace. The room falls into a peaceful quiet, save for the crackling fire and the deep, steady breathing of those now on the verge of sleep. Luke and Din, though silent, exchange a glance, their eyes filled with a quiet, unspoken understanding, their connection something deep and unbreakable.

Together, they stare out at the stars beyond the window, the night sky vast and sparkling above them. They bask in each other’s presence, content in the warmth of their home, their family. Grogu nestles closer, the wolf’s thick fur a soft cushion, and Luke smiles as he lays his head against Din’s side, his hand resting gently on the child’s back.

In that moment, nothing else exists but the peace of their shared space, the love between them, and the quiet harmony of night settling around them.

________________________________

The next morning, after the sun's rays shined once more, Bo-Katan hurriedly bursts into their room, startling a human Din holding Grogu close while a ruffled hawk chirps in surprise.

“Bo? What’s going on?” Din gruffly asks.

“It’s urgent. Boba has found a lead on Gideon.”

Chapter Text

After speaking with the grizzled Daimyo of Tatooine, Din and Luke learn Boba’s network of eyes spotted suspicious Imperial activity on Mullan—a world known for its fine foodstuffs and wine export. It's not exactly full of criminal activity, but Imps could use more mundane trade products as a cover. Boba assures Din his information was verified by Fennec herself, leaving the Mand’alor satisfied they finally have a trustworthy lead on Gideon’s movements. After a heavily encrypted call with Leia and Bo-Katan to strategize, Din sits beside his desk with a tired sigh. Luke gracefully flits from his tall, freestanding perch to his favored spot on Din’s pauldron. A soft trill escapes the golden hawk’s beak as if inquiring about Din’s thoughts.

Din pulls his glove off to slowly stroke Luke’s plumed head, frowning. “We finally have a lead. We have a plan. We must trust our friends and ourselves to see this through.”

He meets Luke’s gaze and whispers, “I’m ready to be free of this curse, galaar’ika. I miss you. I—” Din pauses, struggling to put his thoughts into words. “I miss feeling your touch as myself. Miss hearing your voice.”

The hawk bobs its head in understanding. He knows all too well how Din feels. Always together, yet never together as they desire.

“There’s no use dwelling on it. Solo and Chewbacca will arrive as soon as possible, and then we’ll hunt Gideon down for good. This is the Way,” Din says with finality in his voice.

___________________

The Millennium Falcon arrives quietly a few days later in Sundari during the morning without fanfare or drawing undue attention. They need their activities to remain secretive. Mandalorian guards escort Han and Chewbacca from the hangar to the palace and the Mand’alor’s private wing. Upon admission to Din’s study, Han and Chewie find Din, Bo-Katan, and Paz formulating their final plans.

“Hope you didn’t start the party without us,” Han drawls, hands tucked into his pockets as he strolls in with Chewie close behind.

Luke crosses the room from Din’s shoulder to Chewie’s outstretched arm, feathers puffing in delight at seeing his friends. “Hey, kid,” Han greets with soft eyes. A separate nod to Din. “Hey, Buckethead.”

“Solo,” Din says with an unamused deadpan. Bo-Katan rolls her eyes while Paz lets out a huff of laughter.

They all turn their attention back to the matter at hand. The air in the chamber is thick with anticipation as Din paces before a holographic map of the sector, and Luke returns silently to his shoulder for support.

“We know Gideon’s somewhere out there, still scheming,” Bo-Katan says, her voice hard. “But you don’t have time to chase shadows across the Outer Rim.”

Paz crosses his arms, his deep voice a steady rumble through the vocoder of his helmet. “We need information. If we’re going after Gideon, we must know exactly where he is.”

Din pauses, gazing at the star map before he turns to Bo-Katan. “Fennec told Boba there’s a known Imperial lackey on Mullan, so that’s where we’ll go. Find him and question him.”

“And if he doesn’t want to talk?” Han asks.

“Then we make him,” Paz replies, forcefully punching a fist into his other hand.

___________________

After a short but sweet farewell to Grogu, they leave Mandalore in Bo-Katan’s capable hands, leaving the planet in the late afternoon. The Falcon hums beneath Din’s feet as it lifts off and enters hyperspace for Mullan. Din, still in his human form, stands in the cockpit behind Han and Chewbacca. Luke observes keenly from Din’s pauldron.

“Hey, Buckethead. Is it easier piloting without Luke yapping in your ear all the time? Or does he squawk instead?” Han smirks, glancing over at Luke. “No offense, kid.”

Din shifts in annoyance, ready to defend his partner, and Luke releases a protesting cry. Chewie growls something back, a combination of irritation and amusement. Han chuckles.

“Alright, alright. Just don’t go molting all over the ship,” Han quips, winking at the hawk.

Luke fluffs his feathers in mock anger, and Din rolls his eyes beneath his helmet before ducking out of the cockpit. He had already had enough of Solo’s company, and the trip had just started.

The ship hurdles through hyperspace, the stars stretching into brilliant streaks of light as they travel toward their destination. Din nods to Paz, eagerly awaiting Chewie for a Dejarik rematch. Then, Din sits on a crate in the holding area. His thoughts drift as the familiar sensation of Luke’s presence lingers at the edge of his mind—a constant connection that deepened when their bond became more than just loyalty, more than friendship—love.

_______________

Hours later, they arrive on Mullan—named for the mullanite plant, creeping vines that create intricate lattices across the planet’s surfaces. The native population was friendly and peaceful enough, focusing on its local trade and off-planet exports. The Falcon descends into the atmosphere, and as they approach the surface, the small crew realizes evening has already fallen on the planet. Something strange stirred within Din.

Din feels the strange, swirling magic of the curse ripple through his body, heralding his transformation. He grips his helmet with a grunt of pain, Luke flapping off his shoulder in distress. Din’s limbs shift, bones cracking and reshaping. Paz looks away in discomfort as Han and Chewie exit the cockpit after landing. In the Mand’alor’s place, a hulking silver wolf stands. Behind him, a black glove gently rests on his head between twitching ears—Luke offers his brother-in-law a grim smile.

Han stares, slack-jawed, for a moment too long.

Chewbacca barks sharply, nudging him.

“Right, right!” Han shakes his head, checking his holster absently to ensure his blaster is in place. “Sorry. Just not used to… that.”

Paz mutters, “Darjetti osik.”

Din growls low in his throat; though dark brown, his large eyes seem to glow in the faint light of the ship. Han, feeling the tension, shrugs. “You know, when this is all over, you’ve gotta explain how that works. Where do your clothes go? Or your weapons? Magic pockets or something?”

Luke shakes his head fondly. “The Force works in mysterious ways.”

___________________

After quick surveillance and posing a few questions to locals, the small group learns their supposed informant may be found at the local cantina. Luke convinces Paz, Han, Chewie, and an incredibly sulky Din to watch the exits and allow him to find their quarry alone. (“Din, be reasonable. They’re not going to allow a giant wolf into the cantina.” Pathetic whine. “No.”)

The dimly lit cantina buzzes with the usual hoopla of sentients getting off work, sharing drinks, and having loud conversations. In an unassuming corner, a lone Rodian sits at a stained table, nursing a drink and muttering. His reptilian skin glistens in the flickering light.

Luke approaches quietly, his hood pulled low over his face, masking his features. The Rodian uneasily glances up, eyes darting side to side as if looking for a quick escape route. The Jedi stops just before the Rodian’s table, his presence causing the smuggler to squirm uncomfortably.

The smuggler dares to make eye contact with Luke, his gaze flicking nervously. “What d’you want?” His voice comes out rough, trying to mask the fear settling in his chest. “I don’t know you.”

“You don’t need to know me,” Luke says, his voice calm but carrying an edge that sends shivers down the Rodian’s spine. “But you do know something about Moff Gideon. I need to find him.”

The smuggler’s eyes widen, and his scales flush a deeper green. “Gideon? No, no. I don’t deal with Imperials anymore. ‘Specially not him.”

Luke remains still, his calm, steady voice cutting through the tension. “I know you have information. Tell me what you know, and you won’t be harmed.”

The smuggler’s eyes dart from Luke to a large shadow behind Luke. “I thought I told you to wait outside,” Luke murmurs without looking back. Din lets out a low growl, pacing forward a step, his fangs glinting in the low light. The smuggler recoils slightly. He’s cornered by a crazy guy in a black cloak with a kriffin’ wolf—and he’s not smart, but he’s not dumb either. Anyone would sense the rising sense of danger gnawing at him.

“I told you, I don’t know anything!” he snaps, trying to regain control of the situation. His hand drifts subtly toward the blaster holstered at his side. “And if you think you can intimidate me, you’re wrong. I don’t care who you are.”

Din’s rumbling snarl grows louder, and the cantina's commotion becomes completely silent. Luke’s expression remains unreadable beneath his hood, but the tension in the room thickens. “Don’t do it,” he warns softly, his eyes flickering toward the blaster.

The Rodian hesitates, and then his fear turns to anger. He pulls the blaster in one swift motion, aiming it squarely at Luke’s chest. “I said—”

Before he can finish, a blur of silver fur lunges at him. Moving with lightning speed, Din moves with carnal grace, a feral growl erupting from his throat as he leaps across the table, knocking it aside with a crash. His powerful jaws snap near the smuggler’s arm, and the man barely has time to recoil before the wolf is on top of him, pinning him to the sticky floor.

The smuggler lets out a strangled yell, dropping his blaster as Din’s weight crushes him. His breath comes in panicked gasps as the wolf’s teeth hover dangerously close to his throat.

“OK, OK! Kriff!” the Rodian sputters, but his panic turns to desperation. He reaches for a hidden vibro-blade at his side, intending to stab the wolf, but before he can draw it—

In one fluid motion, Luke steps forward and stretches out a hand with the Force, flicking the weapon from the smuggler’s hand with precision. The vibro-blade clatters to the floor, far out of reach.

The smuggler’s eyes widened in horror. “Jedi…?” he whispers, the word carrying a mixture of awe and terror.

Luke raises his hand, and with a subtle gesture, the blaster that fell to the ground flies into his outstretched palm. He stands over the terrified Rodian, his calm expression betraying nothing of the fierce resolve within.

“You don’t want to fight us,” Luke says smoothly. “Tell us what you know, or the wolf won’t be so forgiving next time.”

Din snarls, pressing harder on the smuggler’s chest, and the Rodian whimpers under the weight of his colossal paws. His scales are slick with sweat now, and his breaths come in ragged gasps. “Gideon… I know where he’s headed,” he chokes out. “But, please— get this thing off me!”

Luke crouches down, his face inches from the smuggler’s, the calm yet dangerous light in his eyes never wavering. “Where?”

“Pa-Pakuuni. He was hidin’ here for a while. Laying low, wining and dining the local officials, ya know? He’s been waiting for something. He and his cronies left a couple days ago finally. Heard they were goin’ to Pakuuni. He’s been moving from place to place, but the last I heard, he’s set up there. I don’t know for how long, but that’s all I know!” The smuggler’s voice is high and desperate, his fear palpable.

Luke studies him for a moment. “Why Pakuuni?”

The Rodian swallows hard. “I dunno. All I heard was somethin’ about a temple. I swear.”

Luke stands, then glances at Din, giving him a subtle nod.

With a final low growl, Din steps back, releasing the smuggler from his iron grip. The Rodian gasps for air, clutching his chest as he scrambles to his feet, eyes wide with panic.

“Get out of here,” Luke said, his tone leaving no room for argument. He waves a hand and weaves a Force suggestion. “You’re going to go home, go to bed. Forget you saw us.”

The Rodian’s eyes glaze and he mutters, “I’m going to go home, go to bed. I forgot I saw you.”

The adrenaline from the encounter must still be rattling through his body because the smuggler bolts from the cantina, stumbling over overturned chairs in his haste to leave. The room remains deathly silent, all eyes fixed on Luke and the enormous wolf standing at his side.

“I guess I can’t make all of them forget us,” Luke mutters. He quietly beckons Din to his side, and they leave the cantina without another word, seeking out their companions.

They regroup on the Falcon. “So, where to, kid?” Han asks.

“Pakuuni. Outer Rim Territories,” he answers. Han raises an eyebrow questioningly. “I don’t know why, but apparently there’s a temple there where Gideon may be holed up. I need to meditate. Figure out what this all means.”

Han can’t help but comment. “A temple, huh? I hate those places. Always creepy, always trouble.”

“Comes with the territory,” Luke replies with a smile. He ducks out of the main area to find a quiet place to meditate.

Before Din can move to follow him, Paz waves him over. “Everything OK, vod? Can we trust the information from this smuggler?”

Din nods his head, confident in Luke’s abilities to uncover the truth.

“If you’re sure,” Paz concedes. “I’m going to grab a bunk to catch some sleep. Go, be with your riduur.”

He huffs in response to the teasing tone from his brother, then pads silently to join Luke in the cargo area. Legs folded with his cloak tucked around him, Din watches Luke’s still form for a moment, admiring his distinct features in the low light. The scar above his lip, the feathery blond bangs resting across his forehead, the slow breaths filling his chest.

Without opening his eyes, Luke softly asks, “Join me?”

The wolf chuffs in response, curling up behind his seated body and settles in for some rest, falling asleep listening to Luke’s warm, thumping heartbeat.

___________________

What feels like hours later, Din startles awake, ears twitching at Luke’s triumphant gasp.

“Din! I figured it out!”

The wolf lets out a confused whine. Figured out what?

“C’mon, we need the Falcon’s star charts!”

Din’s claws clatter against the floor as he scrambles to stand and follow Luke toward the cockpit. Paz groggily appears as Han and Chewie join them at the console display.

“Chewie, can you pull up Pakuuni’s star chart?”

The Wookie offers a soft roar of acknowledgement and pulls up the requested map. Luke’s eyes pore over the display and points excitedly. “See?”

Han scratches his head in confusion. “Uh, see what there, Luke?”

“The positions of Pakuuni’s moon and the system’s sun,” Luke says. “There’s going to be an eclipse.”

Eclipse.

The word sends a tremor through Din’s body. An eclipse. Of course. He shares a knowing look with Luke.

“I don’t understand,” Paz admits.

Han begrudgingly agrees. “Yeah, same. Explain it to me, kid.”

“The riddle from the holocron: Yet when the day becomes night, and the night becomes day. A solar eclipse! The sun is out, but it’s blocked by the moon. It’s day and night. That’s how we break the curse.”

Chewbacca growls softly in recognition, and Han’s face tightens in realization. “Pakuuni,” he muttered. “That planet hasn’t seen a solar eclipse in—”

“Seventy-six years,” Luke finishes, staring at the display. “It’s about to happen again. That’s why Gideon is headed there. The eclipse is the key to unlocking the Sith artifact in the temple.”

Paz clenches his fists. “Then we beat him there.”

“Yeah, what he said,” Han says. Chewie growls in accord.

Han sits down in the pilot’s seat, flipping switches and preparing the ship for takeoff. “Punching in the coordinates now. Hold on, folks—this is going to be a fast one.”

The Falcon roars to life, and within moments, the ship shoots into hyperspace, the stars stretching into brilliant lines of light around them.

As the ship speeds toward Pakuuni, Luke stands near the viewport, staring into the endless void of space, his thoughts racing. Din, now sitting at Luke’s feet, looks up at him, sensing the weight of the Jedi’s thoughts.

___________________

Pakuuni is vast, filled with unpredictable terrain and wilderness. The Falcon’s sensors pick up what is a large structure, obscured by fauna and earth. But with the dense canopy, they must land quite a distance from their target destination. It’s nighttime on the planet’s surface before they prepare to depart—for, hopefully, their final confrontation with Moff Gideon. They’d prefer traversing in the daylight, of course, but needs must. The eclipse would not wait. Paz, Han, and Chewie gather their weapons, granting a moment of privacy to the cursed duo.

Luke takes a shuddering breath, staring at his lightsaber gripped tightly in his hand. Din sits beside him, nudging his side with a low whine. “I’m OK, Din. Just need a minute.”

Din tilts his head, giving a soft woof of inquiry.

His companion offers a small smile. “I— I just hope this is the end of the curse. I won’t have to hide anymore, and you’ll be able to travel freely on Mandalore again. We’ll be free.”

Feeling anxious, Din whines again and places a paw on Luke’s thigh. Cursed they may be, he doesn’t want to lose Luke once it’s broken.

“Oh. Oh, Din, no,” Luke placates once he realizes. “I don’t mean I’ll leave you. You—you and Grogu, you’re my family. You’re everything to me. That’s never changed.”

The Jedi throws his arms around the wolf’s thick neck, burying his face in the silver fur. “I love you,” Luke whispers fiercely.

Din wishes he could shout his love for Luke to the stars—wishes he could howl to the Pakuuni moon so everyone would know how deeply he cares for this man. But he can’t. So he presses his head firmly against Luke’s, then licks a warm, wet stripe up his cheek.

“Ugh! Din!” Luke protests. Din pushes forward to continue licking enthusiastically at Luke’s face as the Jedi collapses onto his back, laughing and trying to block Din with his arms. “OK, OK, I get it.”

The Mandalorian eases off, tail wagging in happiness. Luke uses the corner of his cloak to wipe at his face. “Yeah, yeah. You’re pretty pleased with yourself, aren’t you?”

The canine just gives him a wolfy grin, tongue lolling out of his mouth.

“Let’s go break a curse,” Luke says as he stands.

___________________

They depart with Luke leading the way, Din loping easily along beside him with his large paws moving soundlessly over the moss-covered ground. His sensitive ears and nose twitch, keeping a constant watch. The dense wilderness of Pakuuni is a labyrinth of towering trees, twisted vines, and rugged terrain that seemed to stretch endlessly in every direction.

Behind them, Han stumbles over a root with a loud curse, barely catching himself before tumbling headfirst into the brush. Chewie barks a laugh, shaking his head at Han’s clumsiness, while Paz trudges through the undergrowth like a walking tank, his heavy footsteps breaking the forest’s stillness.

“Y’know, we’ve been wandering this jungle for hours, and I still don’t see any temple,” Han grumbles, brushing off dirt from his jacket. “Next time, I’m bringing a map—or better yet, staying on the ship.”

Paz, just ahead of him, snorts in agreement, his deep voice coming out through his helmet. “You’re not wrong, Solo. Feels like we’ve been walking in circles. This better be worth it.”

Luke, focused and unbothered by the banter behind him, reaches out with the Force, searching for a presence that’s been guiding him since they landed. Somewhere in this wilderness lay a hidden Sith temple, long abandoned but still humming with old, dangerous power. They needed to find it—before Gideon did.

“Patience,” Luke calls over his shoulder, his voice steady. “We’re close.”

Chewbacca lets out a low growl of agreement, his sharp eyes fixing on the distant trees. The Force stirs around them, whispering of secrets buried ahead.

After what felt like an eternity of navigating dense foliage and uneven ground, the group finally reaches a small clearing. The trees part to reveal a rocky hillside, half-obscured by overgrown vines. Hidden within the hillside is the entrance to the Sith temple—its dark stone worn by time, blending into the surroundings. Ancient carvings, barely visible under the moss and grime, adorned a stone archway. The atmosphere is thick with an oppressive energy, like the very air holding its breath.

“There,” Luke says softly, his voice barely above a whisper as he steps toward the entrance. The others follow, silent now, sensing the ominous aura.

Han lets out a low whistle as they approach the massive, weathered doors. “Well, I’ll be. You’re as good as a bounty puck tracker with the Force, huh, kid?”

“Good thing, too,” Paz mutters, rolling his shoulders. “I was starting to think this was a wild mynock chase.”

Luke smiles faintly but says nothing. Instead, he walks around a large stone circle set into the ground near the entrance. He can feel the Force calling to him, a powerful nexus concentrated at this spot—not that different from the Seeing Stone on Tython. It hums with knowledge, waiting to be unraveled. Without hesitation, Luke kneels on the stone and closes his eyes, sinking deep into meditation.

Din pads over to Luke’s side and lays down beside him, his head resting on his paws. The wolf’s presence is a comfort to Luke, their bond offering strength and grounding in the midst of the temple’s dark energy. The others remain at a respectful distance, giving the Jedi space as he focuses on the task at hand.

Luke’s breathing slows, and his mind reaches out to the Force, touching the currents of time and space that surround the temple. The nexus pulses, and Luke sees visions flashing before him—of the temple, of the eclipse, of an artifact waiting to be awakened.

Suddenly, it comes to him. What Gideon’s after.

Luke’s eyes snap open, and he looks down at Din, who lifts his head from his paws. “A powerful Sith Lord once ruled here,” Luke whispers. “He did…unspeakable things. The artifact Gideon possesses will resurrect the Sith Lord’s spirit and unleash a terrible power. But it can only be activated during an eclipse. A day with no night, and a night with no day.”

Han frowns. “The same solar eclipse we’re counting on today to break the curse. Great. Perfect.”

Luke nods, rising to his feet. “We—”

A slow clap rings out in the clearing, carrying to all present. The group whips toward the sound as Gideon and an entire platoon of Stormtroopers appear at his back. They raise their blasters at the group, awaiting orders.

“You figured it out. Aren’t you a clever Jedi?” Gideon drawls. “What I can’t figure out is how you reached the temple before me. The Force has something to do with it, I suppose.”

Din growls warningly as Gideon steps closer to the temple steps.

“Well, no matter. We’re all here together now. How wonderful,” Gideon says. He glances up at the sky, shielding his eyes from the rays of the sun. “And so close to my moment of triumph.”

“You don’t know what you’re dealing with, Gideon,” Luke calls out.

“Oh, I know exactly what awaits me,” the Moff says. “Power, immortality… revenge. When I resurrect the power within this artifact, I will rain destruction upon Mandalore—then the galaxy. I will rule our once great Empire.”

“You’re nothing but a power-crazy nerfherder!” Han shouts. Chewie grumbles in response and Han glares at his copilot. “It was the best I could come up with. I don’t hear you contributing any zingers, buddy.”

As the pair argue, the sun is about to rise.

“Not ideal timing,” Paz says with a grunt, hefting up his M-55 Medium Repeating Blaster. “We could probably use Force osik at a time like this.” He glances at Din. “No offense, vod.”

Just before his transformation takes hold, Luke braces himself and stretches out his arms to Force shove the Stormtroopers back as far as he can. “That’ll buy us some—skree!” Luke is cut off as he turns into a golden hawk at daybreak.

In a separate flash, Din lifts his beskar spear from his back and yells, “Oya!”

Paz echoes him and they drive forward to take on the Imperial forces. Chewie gives a roar and attacks with his bowcaster. Han takes cover behind a rock, raising his blaster to take critical shots.

Han shouts to his friends. “So, this is the plan? Face these Imps while outnumbers right before a once-in-a-lifetime eclipse, stop Gideon from resurrecting a Sith Lord, and somehow get out of here alive?”

Chewie growls back, knocking out a soldier.

“Pretty much,” Din replies, his vocoder flat, twirling his spear with finesse.

“Perfect.” Han scowls. “The princess is gonna kill me if Luke gets hurt.” He glances at the hawk diving at troopers from the air. “No offense, bird-Luke!”

The hawk lets out a sharp cry, continuing his assault from above.

During the flurry of fighting, Gideon walks to the entrance of the temple unhindered, two Dark Troopers following him closely. The Sith artifact safely in his hands, the Moff watches the sun climb higher into the sky and the moon crossing ever closer.

Luke swoops to Din’s shoulder, drawing his attention to Gideon’s progress. Din nods, then shouts, “We need a distraction!”

Han, crouching behind a boulder next to Chewbacca, smirks. “Alright, buddy,” Han says, “let’s go.”

He pops out of cover and fires two quick blaster shots, striking down a pair of troopers. “Hey, bucketheads! Miss me?”

The remaining Stormtroopers turn, only to be met by a charging Paz, his massive frame crashing into them like a battering ram. Blaster bolts ricochet off his beskar armor as he plows through their ranks, his brute strength unmatched.

Din moves past the remaining troopers like a whirlwind, his beskar spear cutting through anyone foolish enough to cross his path. He moves with deadly accuracy, the spear slicing through plastoid armor as he fights toward Gideon. Luke, though vulnerable in his hawk form, darts down from the sky, his sharp talons raking across the faces of enemies, distracting them long enough for Din to strike them down. The enemy numbers are thinning, but they’re far from safe.

Gideon wordlessly nods at a Dark Trooper as the Mand’alor and his hawk get too close for comfort. The droid, gleaming and menacing, advances toward them and launches itself into the air. Its mechanical hand shoots out and grabs Luke mid-flight. The hawk cries out in alarm, struggling in the Dark Trooper’s unyielding grip as it lands next to Gideon. The Moff aims a blaster directly at Luke’s head, his eyes cold and unfeeling.

“Drop your weapons,” Gideon’s voice rings out. “Or the Jedi dies.”

Din freezes, his eyes lock on Luke, who thrashes helplessly in the droid’s grasp. Slowly, reluctantly, he lays down his spear.

“All your weapons,” Gideon orders.

The former bounty hunter snarls, pulling out a blaster, hidden blades, and finally, the Darksaber. The others follow suit, Han and Chewbacca setting their weapons on the ground while Paz growls in frustration but obeys.

The sun above begins to dim, the eclipse already starting. The moon slowly creeps across the face of the sun, casting eerie shadows over the temple grounds.

Gideon smirks, his eyes gleaming with cruel satisfaction. “Just in time for the show,” he sneers, glancing up at the darkening sky. “This ritual will resurrect the Sith Lord who created the artifact, and I will control his power. Mandalore will burn, and you will all witness its end.”

The Moff raises the Sith artifact toward the entrance of the temple, a ruby light glowing from within it.

Din’s heart pounds in his chest as the sun continues to darken. He can’t lose Luke—not now. Not ever.

As the moon fully covers the sun, Din feels the familiar, painful shift within him. Yet his body remains unchanged, as it’s neither night nor day. He senses Luke’s transformation beginning as the darkness takes hold. The droid, focused on holding a struggling bird, fails to notice the change until it’s too late.

Luke, now back in human form, kicks his way out of the Dark Trooper hold, breaking free from its grasp. He rolls to the ground, summoning his lightsaber to his hand in an instant. The green blade ignites with a sharp hiss, and without hesitation, Luke plunges the saber into the Dark Trooper’s head, the droid sparking and collapsing as it hits the ground.

Seeing his opening, Din launches himself forward with his jetpack, propelling himself at Gideon. The Moff barely has time to react as Din’s body slams into him, knocking him to the ground and he drops the artifact.

“No!” Gideon yells.

Luke runs toward them, after swiftly dispatching the second Dark Trooper, lightsaber flashing as he closes the distance.

In a final act of defiance, Gideon draws his blaster and gets off a single shot. Luke recoils but manages to drive his green blade through Gideon’s chest. The former Moff lets out a strangled gasp, his eyes wide with shock, before collapsing into the dirt, lifeless.

Luke stumbles back, clutching his shoulder, chest heaving from the exertion. He deactivates his lightsaber and collapses to his knees.

Din rips off his helmet, rushing to Luke’s side. His face is etched with worry as he kneels next to the Jedi, lifting him into his arms. “Galaar’ika? Please, are you alright? Luke? Please don’t leave me.”

Luke’s trembling fingers reach up to touch Din’s face, threading through his curls. “Shhh, I’m here,” he murmurs softly, his voice hoarse but steady. “I’ll be OK, cyare. Just a little bruised.”

But Din can’t hold back the tears welling in his eyes, relief crashing over him like a tidal wave. He holds Luke close, cradling him as though he would never let him go.

“Marry me,” Din whispers, his voice rough with emotion.

Luke blinks, staring at him in disbelief. “Now?” he asks, incredulous.

“Now,” Din insists, his voice desperate and raw. “I never want to be apart from you again.”

“Alright, cyare. Now.”

“M-mhi solus tome, mhi solus dar'tome, mhi me'dinui an, mhi ba'juri verde,” Din swears reverently.

Luke solemnly repeats the vows back to him, every word a promise. Din presses his forehead to Luke’s and shakily exhales. “Ni kar'tayl gar darasuum,” Din says.

They tenderly kiss as their friends look on, their bond sealed and the curse broken.

Han sighs. “Well, Leia is still gonna kill me because now she’s missed the wedding.”

Din chuckles as he helps Luke to his feet. Hand in hand, they watch the end of the eclipse as they relish their new beginning. Together, at last.