It isnāt something he taught Grogu. One day he puts on the Rising Phoenix and Grogu leaps up to his shoulder, finding a stable foothold in the space between his back and the jetpack. One clawed hand grips his left pauldron, the other the folds of his cloak. And Grogu laughs, clearly pleased with his new idea.
āYou good up there?ā Din asks in surprise, eyes sliding to the far edge of his visor to glance at the kid.
Grogu grins, ears tipping down in his extra-pleased-with-himself expression.
āAll right then. But youād better hold on,ā Din chuckles. Grogu nods.
And dank farrik, the kid does.
He holds on through running over fields at top speed and jumping on stolen speeders.
He holds on walking through the worst parts of the worst towns when every stepās liable to result in a shootout.
He holds on through wild animals charging and climbing up mountainsides and hunting in perfect silence.
Sometimes Din misses the kid riding at his side, the way he could reach down and pat him on the back, or brush his ear between his thumb and forefinger. Carrying him in his arms is getting rarer too: he still doesnāt trust the kidās grip when they fly with the Phoenix, but aside from that, he holds his son less and less.
Groguās growing, fast enough that he can see the changes with his own eyes.
Din used to think Grogu would stay the same for the rest of their time together, however long it was. He kept telling himself heād made his peace with the difference in their lifespans. If he thought it often enough, maybe heād believe it.
Yet hereās his kid wearing Mandalorian armor, learning how to fight or lie in wait or strategize, giving waves and salutes and nods to strangers who have no idea how to interpret his little noises, riding on Dinās shoulder into battle.
One night after a long and fruitless hunt he feels Groguās grip slacken, claws loosening from his shoulder. His arm snakes up to grab him before the kid can slip and he brings Grogu up against his chest. The kid yawns and snuggles in against the cloth of his flightsuit, making little sleepy sounds.
āHey,ā Din murmurs. āGet some sleep. Iāve got you.ā
Din canāt help a soft smile under his helmet. Maybe Groguās growing a little bit all the time ā but in this moment heās still a kid, sleeping in the crook of his fatherās arm. Din knows it wonāt last. Kid has too much energy these days, and he likes his independence.
But itās a moment Din will hold onto while he can.
gracieabrams
pixelskylines
areudirty
germansingergirl
