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Yavin was peaceful.
It was peaceful when the thunder roared above like the drums of war, blaster shots against beskar. It was peaceful when the children screamed in delight and not despair. It was peaceful when Din wore his armor despite not needing to fight anywhere but in the sparring ring.
Din had known peace. His childhood, before he had become a foundling, had been flecked with peaceful moments even in the middle of the slaughter that had been the Clone Wars. And later, among his siblings, he had also found moments of joy and rest.
Still, he wasn't quite sure if any of that compared to the calm he found in Yavin's temple. The tranquility was built into the very foundations of this construction. He knew the stories by now, those narrated in old books, datapads, and strange objects called holocrons that he couldn't use himself but had to ask one of the students to open for him. The Jedi and the Mandalorians had been at each other's throat often enough throughout time, Ahsoka's words came to mind, and yet Din found himself wandering their halls, being greeted by the few members of Luke's budding Order as if he were one of them. Maybe it was because the past was so distant, now that both their people knew the pain of having to rebuild from the ground up, from less than nothing.
It was not a pain he wished upon anyone.
The sun had not quite risen yet, tinting the temple's outside in a light golden hue. The building was beautiful, half overgrown as it still was. They had made some efforts to clean it out where the Alliance hadn't done managed to all those years ago. The temple was more of a refugee center, a place to restock, and a New Republic base than it really was a Jedi temple, the number of Force-sensitives low and the number of people Luke was actually teaching even lower.
They would get there someday.
He continued his path, walking further into the jungle, past the greenery, and along a river he had crossed more times than he could count already.
(That was a lie. He knew exactly how often it had been. Twice a day, in the morning and in the evening, stepping into his old footprints.)
The river led him to a wide and open clearing, framed by small flowers in all colors of the rainbow.
They had cleaned it up a little after they had found it, made it more comfortable while ensuring it remained a part of nature.
Luke had insisted that it was important.
The more you changed the environment, the more you disrupted the flow of the Force, that had been his argument. Din didn't quite know whether to believe him. Luke certainly looked as if he was a Master of that unexplainable power regardless of the environment.
The clearing was empty, which was a surprise for one.
Often, Din would find two or three other students practicing with their Master. All of them had their eyes closed, meditating in whichever way was the most comfortable to them. Luke tended to do handstands of all things and Din knew another girl danced an Alderani ballet she was desperate to pass on to another person.
Right now, Luke was sitting in the middle of the clearing, legs crossed and moving a few stones in a slow circle around him. A few more stones gently floated in the wind in a smaller orbit, carried not by Luke, but by the child on his lap. It fascinated Din that Grogu, despite being the mentally youngest trainee, was the one who was actually working with Luke. When he wasn't with Din, he attached himself to his teacher. A couple of the other kids did, at times, fall asleep next to their Master. Passed out with their heads on his lap, or leaning against him in some other way, drooling.
Gently, Luke and Grogu set the stones to the floor, then opened their eyes.
When they had first met, Din had been too preoccupied with everything surrounding him, the darksaber, which was still clipped to his belt, Moff Gideon, saving his son— he hadn't been able to pay too much attention to Luke Skywalker.
He had taken notice of his strength, of his kindness.
Not of his deep blue eyes, or his smile.
"Come to get us for breakfast?" Luke asked and picked up Grogu as he slowly rose to his feet.
He walked over to Din, ease in his steps that would fade as the day continued on, and only returned when he repeated his ritual.
"As always."
Luke smiled at him and, once he was at Din's side, gently put his forehead to Din's. They remained just so for a moment, then they fell into a comfortable silence, returning home.
Home , what a strange expression. Home had been his ship until he lost it. Before that, it had been the dorms he had shared with the other children, and before even that, it had been his parents' arms. Now it was a temple full of people trying to figure out who they were and who they wanted to be.
He wondered, briefly, what he would have done if he hadn't gone with Luke. If he had hesitated to ask, decided he could leave his son with another. Despite his worries, his love for his child, he had never, not even for one second, expected Luke to take Grogu away. Not without Din's permission, not without the child's own, and even after, when Luke had flown them here, he hadn't thought that he might overstay his welcome someday.
Perhaps that was the reason why he didn't want to leave, why he struggled so with the decision he had to make.
Life here wasn't comfortable, soft, but it was happy and bright, and despite their struggles, Din could feel himself relaxing more and more. He didn't miss the tension in his muscles, the constant anticipation that followed his previous lifestyle.
He was a Mandalorian.
Education and armor, self-defense, our tribe, our language, our leader.
His creed was calling him and Din had to obey it to the best of his abilities. He was following its tenets, took care and protected his own and yet—
The blade at his side burned with the heat of a thousand suns and Din knew his responsibility, but he did not want to follow it. Could not follow it without getting permission first, so that he knew in his heart that he need not fear.
"What is troubling you?"
Luke and Grogu were both looking at him, heads tilted ever so slightly in the manner that Din had come to associate with Force-sensitive people. There was just an edge of sharpness to all their movements, all their words. Like they were seeing and feeling more than everyone else and were so connected to the galaxy that they were not stumbling blindly, wondering what everyone else was thinking and doing.
"I still carry the darksaber," Din said, slowly, deliberately.
Luke hummed in reply. "I know. Leia has sent me a few very urgent messages regarding the state of Mandalore."
Din snorted. Of course, she had. Leia Organa was a force onto herself. While most people were quite happy to leave Din alone here and not bother him about outside responsibilities, she was decidedly not. He feared the day she would meet the Armorer.
Leia called him a coward to his face, but what else to expect of the woman who carried the title of princess as if it were a weapon of destruction.
"I am thinking of leaving. Just for a short while to try to settle the manner."
Din already knew there would be nothing short about it. Mandalore had lain in ruins when he had been only a child. There was no quick or easy solution to its state.
"If you do, we will be here, waiting for you to return," Luke replied. Grogu cooed, reached out for Din, and was quickly transferred into his arms where he could place one of his hands on Din's helmet.
"And if I don't?"
Luke shot him a look, bemusement and fondness all in one. "I suppose then we will have to come to follow you. I crossed half the galaxy for you once, I can do it again."
Alright.
Okay.
Din let out a breath he hadn't noticed holding. All would be well then.