Crawl Home to Her | Mandalorian x OC

chapter five

The rest of the market trip was spent in trivial conversation, Kit talking about booths and traders she's met with. The local Mos Eisley town gossip, none of which she believed of course, finding it all ridiculous. She gave him a bag to carry, to which he would've offered to take another, but Kit was insistent on carrying the two other bags herself.

"Set the bag down on the table, I'll put it away," she instructed as they returned to her apartment, pulling off the scarf, freeing her curls.

"I can help-"

"And I appreciate the offer, but I know where everything goes," she cut him off, leaning her cane up against the wall.

Din backed off, allowing her to do what she wanted. He watched behind his visor as Kit put all her groceries away. He didn't understand at first, why she was so particular about everything until he realized that that was how she interacted with the world. If something was misplaced or moved, it would mess with her system. So he resigned himself to watching.

"Now, where is my sweet bug?" Kit clapped her hands together when she finished in the kitchen. After a while, she outright started to refuse to call him 'the child' or 'kid' ("He needs a name. So until you either name it or find out what his is, that's what I'm calling him").

She walked to where Din was, holding out her arms for the child. Hearing her voice, the child let out a few coos, raising his hands up, reaching out for her. Sometimes Din thought the child liked her more than him. Pulling the big eared baby from his pack, he handed it into Kit's outstretched arms. "Why hello there, sweet one! How are you? Hungry?"

The child cried out with glee at the mention of food.

"I have some fried frog legs I think, somewhere here," she muttered as she took the child towards the kitchen, using one hand to try and find the snacks. "Have to hide these from myself so I can save some for you- ah ha!" She cheered as she pulled out a small sack and handed it to the child.

Din liked these small domestic moments with Kit and the child, for a quick moment it allowed him to delude himself into thinking this was his clan. His aliit. But quick as the thoughts came, he threw them out. He needed to return the foundling to his people, the Jedi. And Kit. . . she deserved more than a life with a bounty hunter. She had a life here, and a good one, he couldn't uproot it because of his own feelings. Besides, how was he to know she even returned his sentiments?

Kit's voice pulled him out from his spiraling thoughts. "Did you find more Mandalorians?"

"Yes, but they were. . . different," he said with a huff, remembering how casually Bo-Katan and her fellows so easily showed their faces.

"Different how?" Kit questioned, cocking her head to the side.

"They. . . removed their helmets."

Kit's eyebrows nearly shot up into her hairline. "But I thought-"

"As did I, but apparently my covert wanted to return to the Old Way. Keeping the helmet on always." It was still jarring for him to learn that all he ever knew as a Mandalorian was seen as different. A cult, seen by others.

Kit pursed her lips, but remained silent. After spending so much time around her, Din was slowly able to pick up on her small tells. She would tap her ears or nose when discussing a certain sense, the way she would scrunch her nose at anything that was unpleasant to taste or smell, (she had a terrible poker face, allowing the whole world to see how she felt). When she pursed her lips, he knew she had a question, but would never ask it. Not unless he prompted her to.

"I know you have a question. You can ask it."

Her jaw dropped, caught off guard by his words, but complied. "What exactly are the rules of your creed?"

Throughout their entire friendship (?) so far, there were two topics that both of them silently agreed to never discuss: Kit's blindness and his culture. They'd danced around it, never asking for specific details. Merely asking things that could affect their day to day life. It was more Din's choice though, being selective with his questions. Kit never asked and never bothered. This was the first time she asked.

"I am not to remove my helmet unless in the presence of my aliit. I cannot reveal my face to another living being." The loophole from the droid ringing in his head. It wasn't alive so he could, but it made him curious though. What other loopholes could there be?

"Aleet?" She said the word with such a Basic accent, that it was almost unrecognizable as Mando'a. But to hear Kit attempt to even say the word made his heart soar.

"Aliit," Din repeated, smiling as he attempted to correct her pronunciation. "My clan. Family."

"And the child? He is your aliit?" Kit asked, pronouncing it a bit better than before.

"My adiik, at least until I find the Jedi. Return him to them."

A strange expression fell over Kit's face, one Din wasn't familiar with seeing on her. "My father had a brother, years ago. He was younger than my father, but he had these strange and remarkable gifts. Moving things or telling how everyone was feeling."

Din frowned under the helmet, confused as to where she was going with this but remained silent, allowing her to continue her story.

"One day, these strange people in robes came. He said they were nice, very calm. They told my grandfather that he was special and they could train him. They took him, not forcefully. My uncle went willingly. He promised to write but he never did."

"These people who took your uncle. . . they were Jedi?"

She nodded, sorrowfully. "He only returned once, apparently to see me, but I was just a kid. I don't remember much. But after that. . . he was never seen again."

Din's eyes fell to the child in her arms, still nibbling away at the frog legs she'd given him. Would he have to say goodbye to the child forever? He was already 50 years old, how long would it take to train him? Would he ever be able to see him again?

"I can only assume he's gone due to the fall of the Jedi Order. But according to Mama, my father was never the same," Kit concluded.

Silence fell over them, the only noise being the child's munching and the sounds of the town heard from beyond the windows. Din looked back up to Kit, her unfocused brown eyes looking far off into nothingness. Some curls had fallen in front of her face, going completely unnoticed by her. Din found himself reaching out, his gloved fingers barely grazing her honey colored skin as he tucked the wild strands behind her ear. Kit let out a gasp, startled by the sudden contact. Realizing what he'd done, his hand retreated.

"Sorry, I- I didn't think-"

"Mando, it's okay. You just caught me off guard," she chuckled nervously as the child followed in Din's actions, reaching up to her coiled tresses.

"Din," he blurted out. Upon Kit's puzzled expression, he continued. "That's my name. Din Djarin."

A slow grin grew upon her face. "Din." The sound of his name falling off her tongue had his eyes fluttering shut. The way she said it was so caring, so full of love. . . Oh what he'd do to hear her say his name like that over and over again. . . But those were thoughts for another time.