Din knows the old woman who runs the fruit stand. Somewhat at least. Anakin knows her well though, and he likes her. A couple days ago, right before Din left on his longer job, he helped Anakin fix a cooling unit for her. She had been extremely grateful to him. Honestly, he thinks that, if he were so inclined, he could mimic Boba's success in taking over the planet as the daimyo. He doesn't want to do that though. He doesn't want to be a leader over so many people. He's quite content with the life he has already, thanks.
"Jira," Anakin greets her with a grin.
"Ani!" she replies, smiling, "And Mando! It's nice to see you again. You're making quite a name for yourself 'round these parts."
Din huffs out a half-laugh. "That's why I'm not planning to stay here much longer." Hopefully. He wants to be able to move on before he gets too much attention – and enemies. The hazard of being a bounty hunter is that one can never settle down in the same place for too long.
She nods, obviously understanding. "Six pallies, please," Anakin tells her, fishing the coins out of his pocket. They exchange the fruit for the coins, and a strong wind whips through the streets. Din turns towards the horizon, checking for an incoming sandstorm. Sure enough. He's been here long enough to know how to be aware of them.
"You'll like these." Anakin gives one fruit to each of the three off-worlders, before placing one in Grogu's hand. One, Din knows, is for him, but he can't take off his buy'ce in front of strangers. He can eat it once they're back home. It's interesting, Din notes, how well Anakin is hiding whatever anger or negative feelings he might have against the Jetii for what he did – or rather, for what he tried to do.
Jira follows Din's gaze to the horizon, before looking back at Anakin. "Oh, my bones are aching. Storm's coming up, Ani. You better get home quick. You too, Mando. Keep the baby safe."
Din is fully prepared to walk away with his children, leaving the off-worlders behind, but Anakin stops to look at them. "Do you have shelter?" Well, maybe Din's wariness of the Jetii is overcoming common sense and decency, because he didn't even think about that. It makes him feel momentarily guilty.
"We'll head back to our ship," the Jetii assures him, stealing a sideways glance at Din.
"Is it far?" Din questions. He might not like the man, but he won't intentionally let him or his companions come to harm.
"On the outskirts," the teen replies, a strong gust of wind whipping sand and debris through the streets. All around the town, people are closing their shops and hurrying towards their homes, knowing what's coming. They don't have much time. Grogu finishes stuffing the fruit into his mouth, and Din tucks him back into the satchel, pulling his cape around the kid to keep him sheltered. He's lucky to have beskar'gam; it protects him from the worst of it.
"You'll never reach the outskirts in time. Sandstorms are very, very dangerous," Anakin warns, glancing at Din quickly. "Come on. We'll take you to our place."
The Jetii looks as if he wants to protect, but doesn't, obviously deciding to trust the word of the locals. Good. Maybe he isn't totally arrogant. And while Din doesn't really like this arrangement, he isn't cruel enough to leave them in the storm to die. Maybe this will allow him to figure out who these people are and what they're doing here on Tatooine. Jetii don't come this far to the Outer Rim, normally, so he has questions.
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All of them hurry through the streets and alleys as fast as they can, the Mandalorian in the lead. Anakin walks next to him, using the man's body to shield himself from much of the storm. Qui-Gon finds himself wondering, again, what their relationship is like. He spent a year on Mandalore with Obi-Wan, during the height of the system's civil war, while protecting Duchess Satine Kryze, so he is not altogether unfamiliar with the Mandalorian way of life.
He had thought, however, that the warriors were all gone, banished, exiled. That is what he heard, so he was more than a little surprised to see someone who follows the old way here on Tatooine. And Anakin… well, he is more than a little intrigued by the boy. He is bright in the Force. Powerful and untrained. Qui-Gon has never felt anything like it before. The Force flows differently around him, and he wonders, now, if Anakin is the one he has been seeking.
For years, he has searched for the prophesized Chosen One, determined to find him and bring him to be trained as a Jedi. The most powerful Force user should be a Jedi. And Anakin is stronger than anyone Qui-Gon has felt. He'll have to test him, to be sure, but he suspects that is has finally found the Chosen One. And in the care of a Mandalorian, no less.
"He's my foundling."
There had been a fierce anger in the Mandalorian's words after he shot the Dug, and Qui-Gon knows enough about them to know that they are very protective of their children. For whatever reason, this Mandalorian has claimed a… former slave?
Qui-Gon regrets his hasty decision to attempt a mind trick on the man. He should have known better. It was a mistake, a costly one. If Mando – he doesn't know what the man's name is, but the old woman was calling him that, so a nickname of sorts? – wasn't against him before, he certainly is now, and that could be a dangerous thing. Mandalorians have historically been enemies of the Jedi, and Qui-Gon will not delude himself to think that Mando wouldn't be a major threat to him if they fought.
They arrive outside a small hovel, and Mando opens the door, ushering them inside. "We're back, Shmi," he calls, "And we brought company."
"Ahh, dissen cozy," Jar Jar mumbles, looking around. It is, Qui-Gon has to admit. The home might be small, but it's clear that all of them are a family. It's not what he was expecting, but it's… nice.
An older woman, probably around forty, walks into the room. Her clothes, like Anakin's, are worn and show evidence of many years of use. Qui-Gon suspects that both of them may have been slaves. He doesn't know what to say about Mando. Or about the tiny, green baby, the same species as Yoda and Yaddle, who is with him.
"I'm Qui-Gon Jinn," he introduces himself, "And these are Jar Jar, Padme, and our droid, Artoo-Detoo." Mando glances at the droid, a lingering glance, and a quick probe of his emotions reveals a conflict within him. So, he doesn't like droids for whatever reason.
"I am Shmi," she says, "And you've already met Anakin, Mando, and Grogu."
"There was a sandstorm coming up, so we offered them shelter," Mando relates. Qui-Gon can't help but wonder if he doesn't have a name, or if it's some Mandalorian thing he never heard about regarding the sharing of names. Or maybe it's just personal preference. He finally lifts Grogu from the satchel – even if Qui-Gon didn't say anything, he's not any more impressed by Mando's choice than Padme is – and hands him to Anakin after taking a moment to simply hold him. It's all Qui-Gon needs to see to know that the two have a strong bond.
"Keep him occupied," Mando instructs. "Maybe take Padme, Jar Jar, and the droids with you. Grogu –" he pauses, tilting his helmet down to the baby, who babbles excitedly, and lets him grab one of his fingers. It's interesting to see how the child reacts when Mando says his name. "– behave. You hear? Don't pull any stunts on your vod. And now is not the time for… you know what." Something passes between them, and the child coos a solemn agreement, obviously understanding. Somehow, Qui-Gon suspects that there's a secret being kept, but he chooses not to pry. If it's important, he'll find out eventually.
He reaches out to the Force again, and notices the same anomaly he did earlier, when he first saw Mando in the junkshop. The Force is flowing strangely around him – and Grogu, too, now that he thinks about it – almost as if it was disturbed by something. Could it be related to the great disturbance in the Force everyone felt a little over a week ago? Possibly. Qui-Gon doesn't know for sure, so he might try meditating on it.
Anakin takes Grogu from the room, gesturing for Padme and Jar Jar to follow; they do, and Qui-Gon keeps himself attuned to them. He doubts anyone would attack, but they can't be too careful, especially not when the Queen herself is in so much danger. Padme might have fooled everyone else, but she didn't fool him.
He moves off to a corner and seats himself on the floor, out of everyone's way, and immerses himself in the Force. He can hear Mando and Shmi moving around in the kitchen-area together, speaking in low voices, but he doesn't try to eavesdrop on them, deciding to let them have their privacy instead. Now, he needs to meditate, because for all that he doesn't trust the Mandalorian, he gets the strong feeling that Force is drawing them all together for some reason. Why, he does not know, but he intends to search for answers.
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Unlike usual, Din opts to sit at the table during the evening meal, Grogu in his arms, even if it means that he'll have to eat at a different point later. He lets the kid eat on his own, though he occasionally feeds him, because he likes to. He doesn't care if everyone else – except Shmi and Anakin, of course – look at him weirdly. A Mandalorian warrior he might be, but he is still Grogu's buir. Nothing will change that.
There is initially a strained silence, before Anakin breaks it. "I know you're a Jedi," he declares, looking at Qui-Gon. "Why are you here on Tatooine? It's all the way in the Outer Rim. Are you here to… free slaves?" He sounds doubtful, and Din can't blame him.
The Jetii sighs, flashing Din a slightly regretful look again. "No, I'm afraid not," Qui-Gon answers, shaking his head. "We're on our way to Coruscant, the central system in the Republic, on a very important mission."
Din bites back a sarcastic comment and keeps his focus on Grogu. Is he doting on him? Absolutely. Does he care? Certainly not. He might have two kids now, but he still loves Grogu just as much as he did before.
"Well, how did you end up out here in the Outer Rim?" Anakin is understandably confused, and Din is wondering the same thing. He's never been to Coruscant – or even the Core really – before, but he knows that it's in the opposite direction as Tatooine, and Padme is clearly not from the Outer Rim.
"Our ship was damaged, and we're stranded here until we can repair it," Padme explains. Din has been watching her, and she might be in her early teens, but she has the bearing of a leader. She's clever, and he'll do his best not to underestimate her. Wait. They need parts for a J-type 327 Nubian. Is she from Naboo? What is someone from Naboo doing here?
"I can help. I can fix anything!" Anakin replies eagerly, and Din smiles. He loves the way that Anakin is so generous, so caring, so good, even to complete strangers. Shmi has taught him well.
Qui-Gon chuckles. "Well, I believe you can. But first we must acquire the parts we need." He gives Din a pointed look, and he instantly bristles.
"Wit no-nutten mula to trade," Jar Jar adds sadly.
"You tried to use your Jetii magic on me," Din accuses.
Qui-Gon is unfazed. "Yes, I did, and I apologize for that. There is more at stake here than you know." An apology wrapped together with an excuse. Wonderful. But Din can let go of grudges. Mandalorians believe in revenge, true, but Qui-Gon didn't actually do anything to him. Din won't trust him, but he doesn't have a reason to make his life as hard as possible.
There's another pause as Din thinks over their options. He can't simply give them the part without something worthwhile in exchange. And then, an idea hits him. "I have a proposal," he says, looking at the Jetii. "I will give you the hyperdrive and parts you need in exchange for transport off the planet. We are planning to leave, but we don't have the means. What do you say to that, Jetii?"
"We can't transport random passengers," he objects, glancing at Padme.
She straightens. "It's fine," she says, ignoring Qui-Gon. "I'm sure the Queen will understand the situation. It's mutually beneficial for both of us. I don't see any reason why it won't work. Where would you like to go? Coruscant?"
Din glances at Shmi for a moment and then at Anakin. None of them have been to Coruscant before, but he doesn't really want to stay on the Republic's capital. "You are from Naboo, are you not? You can take us there – assuming you are going back, of course."
Padme hesitates, looking at Qui-Gon for a moment. "Of course," she echoes, and finally nods. "Yes, we can arrange something, I'm sure." Clever girl. It's not a confirmation that they're Nubians, but it's not a denial either. Din likes her. She's fast and quick on her feet, and she kind of reminds him of Drash – a member of a street gang Boba employed – except she is more… naïve and idealistic.
"Very well. We'll leave in the morning," he decides, mind already racing through the things that he'll have to take care of first. "If you need help installing the parts, Anakin and I can aid you." He needs to talk to Shmi. Likely, they'll simply abandon the junkshop, taking only the most useful things with them. Whatever meagre possessions are in this home will be brought as well.
"It won't be necessary," Qui-Gon answers.
Jar Jar sticks out his long tongue and grabs something from the bowl in the center of the table. Grogu shrieks with delight, and Din wants to facepalm. "Please don't do that," he says to the Gungan – Padme mentioned his species earlier when Din asked. It's bad enough that Grogu loves fooling around. You don't need to encourage him, he doesn't add. Grogu squirms around in his arms, twisting and resting his head against Din's beskar'gam with a sleepy, adoring sound that Din is quite certain wasn't even meant to be a word.
He looks down at the child, feeling his heart melt before he stands up. "It's bedtime for this little one," he says. "The storm should be over by morning, so we can get started then."
No one responds as he carries his kid from the main room to Anakin's bedroom. They finally obtained a cot on which Din and Grogu sleep in there. It's better than the floor, and it makes Shmi feel less guilty about having a bed when they don't. Din settles Grogu on the bed, making sure he's actually asleep, before going to get a plate of food to eat while listening to the howling wind outside and watching his foundling sleep. Tomorrow, they'll be gone, and there's no way of knowing what the future will bring.
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Darkness crackles around him like static, like the crawling critters that like to run around the slave homes at night. And it hurts. It stings. It's bitter and cold and wrong, and Anakin is terrified. He can't see anything, and even though he thinks he's alone, he tries calling out anyways. "Mom?"
Nothing. He called her first, of course. She's been with him the longest. Buir, he thinks but doesn't say it. "Mando? Grogu?"
Still nothing. There's a snap-hiss sound, and a red laser sword hisses to life. Anakin jolts back instinctively, wishing that he could see something so he would know where to hide. Something is wrong. Something is horribly wrong. He can feel it reverberating through every fiber of his being. Then, he hears a maniacal cackling which sends shivers down his spine.
The darkness parts like – like fog, which he's heard about but never seen, and a blurry image takes its place. A dark-hooded figure is standing there, a red laser sword in either hand, blades crossed next to Mando's neck. He's on his knees, breathing ragged, and somehow, Anakin knows that he's injured. Badly.
Horror crawls into his gut and stays there, slowly expanding and consuming him. "Tell me, Din Djarin, did you think you could fool me?" the man, the monster hisses mockingly. "Did you think you could defeat me? You? A lone Mandalorian warrior, when the Jedi have blinded themselves to me for so long?"
Mando – Buir – raises his head defiantly. "Demagolka," he spits. "Dar'jetii. You tried to hurt ner ade, ner aliit. They will destroy you."
The monster cackles again. "They will try," he agrees, and there's a flash of red, and –
And Anakin screams.
He jolts awake, panting and trembling, and sits up. He hasn't had a dream like that in so long. Normally, they're smaller things, things that are relatively harmless in the whole scheme of things. Like Watto being angry and beating him. That – that's nothing. But this? He doesn't cry because crying wastes water, but he wants to so, so badly right now.
That – that thing with red laser swords k-
Anakin can't even bring himself to finish the thought. He hears movement, but he doesn't look up until a warm, familiar hand lands on his shoulder. "Hey, An'ika, what's wrong?" Mando's voice is quiet, gentle, and Anakin throws himself into his arms, shaking.
"Nightmare," he manages to say, voice strangled. "I don't – I don't know what it meant."
"It was just a dream," his buir replies softly. "Do you want to talk about it?"
Anakin shakes his head mutely, squeezing his eyes closed and clinging to him. The elder man doesn't hesitate to return the embrace, rubbing his back soothingly. "I – I have dreams sometimes which happen," Anakin admits. "I don't – I can't –" I can't watch you die.
Mando is quiet for a moment. "I don't know how that Jetii magic works," he replies. "Are you sure you don't want to tell me about it?"
That second prompting is all he needs, and words start tumbling out incoherently. "There was this person who had red laser swords, and – and he – he…" Anakin lets out a shuddering breath, trying to calm his pounding heart. Saying it makes it seem more real, and he can't let it happen. "He killed you," he finally whispers.
Buir stills. "Oh… No Jetii – or dar'jetii – will kill me, ad'ika. We'll be okay." Anakin senses that Buir is more apprehensive than he's letting on, and even if Anakin doesn't really believe him, the soothing words are still calming. Buir is alright – for now – and that's what matters most. He's still alive, still unharmed, and that means they can do something about it. "I think maybe you should talk to the Jetii in the morning," he continues.
That's how Anakin knows that he's genuinely worried, because Buir doesn't like the Jedi. His mistrusts him very much, which makes sense given what he did. Anakin isn't sure that he really wants to talk to him either, but if Buir thinks he should, then he will. If this has to do with Jedi magic, then Qui-Gon could probably answer any questions. Hopefully.
Grogu makes a noise behind Buir, and he sighs, letting go of Anakin long enough to retrieve the baby and hold him close, shushing him back to sleep. Then, he wraps his other arm around Anakin's shoulders and sits next to him without speaking, obviously realizing that Anakin doesn't really want to go back to sleep, at least not without him right there. Anakin leans against his shoulder, and he has no idea how much time has passed when sleep claims him again.
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Mando'a Translations:
buy'ce - helmet
Jetii - Jedi
beskar'gam - armor
vod - brother, sister
buir - father, mother
demagolka - someone who commits atrocities, a real-life monster, a war criminal (from the notorious Mandalorian scientist of the Old Republic, Demagol, known for his experiments on children, and a figure of hate and dread in the Mando psyche)
dar'jetii - Sith (literally: not Jedi)
ner - my, mine
ade - children, sons, daughters
aliit - family, clan
ad'ika - little one