Family

The meal is almost ready when Anakin enters the kitchen area. Shmi can tell that something is on his mind from the slow way he's moving, and the thoughtful expression on his face. "Mom," he begins, "Do you think I could be a Mandalorian?"

She wants to smile, because she had already seen this coming, had already expected it from the moment she saw how Mando treated his child. She had known that something would change as soon as Ani brought him home. Her feelings of that nature have never led her astray in the past, and she knows that he's a good man. He wouldn't leave them – the people who helped him when he needed help – as slaves if he could do something to help them. He's going to help them. He'll do everything he can to help them short of endangering Grogu. Shmi knows this as clearly as she knows that the two suns will rise in the morning.

"Do you want to be?" she asks him.

"Maybe," Anakin answers slowly. "I want to help people. I could help people if I became a Mandalorian."

Shmi reaches out to ruffle his hair affectionately. Helping people has always been the foremost thing on Anakin's mind. "If that is what your heart tells you to do, then you must follow it."

"I talked to Mando about it," he admits, "And... he said it would be dangerous. He doesn't want me – or you – to go with him, because of what he does."

She laughs slightly at that. "Oh, I knew from the beginning, from the moment that he said he was a bounty hunter, that his life is a dangerous one. It's an inherent part of their profession. I heard stories about Mandalorians when I was younger, and I know that they're honorable people. Mando seems to be no exception."

"So, can I?" he asks hopefully.

"I'll tell him you have my blessing," Shmi promises. "I know how much it means to you to be able to help people and free the slaves. You have such high ambitions, Ani, and that's not a bad thing. It's good that you want to help people, and I'm sure Mando has no objections to such an end goal. If you can't become a Jedi, then you can at least become a Mandalorian. I know you want to travel and see other worlds. This might be the only way you can."

Anakin looks contemplative. "You'll come too, Mom, won't you?"

"Of course," she answers. "I have no reason to stay here if you aren't." She checks on the pot again, before turning back to her son. "You can tell our guests to come for the meal. I'll talk to Mando afterwards."

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The evening meal is... okay, it was a bit awkward if Din is being honest, because he doesn't, of course, remove his buy'ce. Shmi hadn't seemed fazed in the least by the fact that Din cannot take off his buy'ce in front of others. She offered to let him eat in a separate room, which he did. While he eats, he thinks about the situation he's found himself in. He's no longer as opposed to the prospect of adopting Anakin as his foundling, but he's still a bit... apprehensive. Foundlings need care and love, neither of which will be a problem for him, of course; he cares for Grogu as best he can, and the kid is thriving now.

Anakin isn't Grogu though, and Din will have to get to know him, learn how to deal with him in the best way possible. It'll be especially difficult because Anakin has been a slave. Din knows that Anakin's childhood will have had a great impact on how he thinks and feels, and he doesn't know if he's qualified to care for someone like that. He's afraid that he'll make mistakes, major ones, especially since he's doing this on his own. Normally, foundlings are raised by the covert as a whole, not just their parents – adoptive or otherwise. He doesn't have a covert anymore.

He'll have to trust in himself, and it's not like he'll be completely alone. Shmi will be there too, and she definitely knows how to handle her son. Din's primary role will be as a (father) teacher, because he, and he alone, will be responsible for ensuring that Anakin becomes a proper Mandalorian. It isn't easy, but then again, it will probably never become easier.

He spends a little longer in the room than he strictly needs to before pulling his buy'ce back on and rejoining the others. There's an anticipatory mood in the atmosphere when he returns which instantly puts him on edge. Grogu is still slurping down his food. Anakin is bright-eyed and eager, though he remains quiet. It's Shmi who looks up at him, and Din immediately knows what this will have to do with.

"Ani told me he wants to become a Mandalorian," she tells him. "I have no problem with that. I know you'll protect him, protect us, and I can help you watch over Grogu if you're busy."

Din glances at the kid for a moment before looking at mother and son. By Creed, he can't deny them this. He has no reason to, aside from his own fears, and that's not a valid reason. "Okay," he agrees, sitting down at the table, "If this is what you both want."

"It is," Shmi replies as Anakin offers an enthusiastic, "yes!"

"Then in the morning, I'll take care of Watto," he decides. "Is there anything I need to know?"

"We have slave chips," Shmi informs him. "You'll have to find the transmitters and deactivate them. We can remove them at a later point."

Din already knew that many slaves have chips implanted in their bodies to prevent them from running, but it's no less horrifying to hear the confirmation that Shmi and Anakin do. "I'll take care of it," he promises. It can't be that hard to find the transmitters after Watto is dead. He'll kill the slaver first to keep him from detonating the bombs in retaliation or out of spite. And then, the Skywalker family will truly be free.

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The morning is cool, the suns just barely risen above the horizon, as Din makes his way to Watto's junkyard in search of the Toydarian slaver. He won't be hard to find, and Din knows that no one – or only very foolish individuals – will try to pick a fight with him for killing Watto. In fact, he doubts anyone will even care. Tatooine is a violent world, and death is a frequent, normal part of life.

Shmi and Anakin are still in their hovel with Grogu. Even though Din didn't want to part from the kid, he knew that he could trust the Skywalkers to keep him safe. They won't let him wander off; they know the dangers of Tatooine even better than he does since they live here. Last night was a little uncomfortable because Din refused to take either of the two cots in the home, despite Shmi's insistence. He refused to budge, even after a lengthy discussion about it, and ended up sleeping on the floor with Grogu, because the kid refused to leave him.

The shop isn't technically open this early in the morning, but Din doesn't let that stop him. He enters anyways, and is immediately confronted by a Toydarian, hovering in the air, wings beating furiously. "Whaddya want?" he demands, sounding more than a little irritated. "Shop's not open yet. It's still early."

Din's hand falls to his blaster. "Are you Watto?"

"Who's asking?" Toydarian demands suspiciously. "Youra Mandalorian, aren't you?"

"Your name," Din orders, voice hard. So, this is the being who has kept Anakin and Shmi as slaves, beaten and starved. He asked about Anakin's age last night. The boy is nine, nearly ten or so, but Shmi doesn't know exactly. Nine. Din thought he was seven, maybe eight, given his size. It makes him furious in ways he can't quite even explain himself.

"Watto." He's suspicious, but even if he tried to fight back, it wouldn't matter.

Din draws his blaster and shoots the Toydarian in the head before he can react. The body hits the floor, and he leaves it there to deal with later while he goes to the back of the shop to search for the transmitters. They're relatively easy to find once he's broken through the locks on the safes Watto had. Transmitters in hand, he begins the trek back to the Skywalker home. He isn't exactly certain how to deactivate these, but they might know. He's never dealt with one before, and he doesn't really want to make a mistake; it would kill them.

Thankfully, Shmi does know what to do, and she safely deactivates them both before Din offers to let them destroy them. He suspects that it might be therapeutic, especially for Anakin. "What will we do now?" Anakin asks, after eagerly accepting the device and tucking it under his arm for later destruction.

"I need to find a job," Din answers. "I'll need credits to find the means to get us off world. Preferably, I could purchase another starship."

"What happened to your previous one?"

There's curiosity – and happiness – shining in Anakin's eyes, and Din suspects that he may never truly understand exactly how the boy feels now. He was never a slave. When he was young, on Aq Vetina, he had loving parents. They were killed by the CIS battle droids, and from there, he was raised by the Mandalorian covert. His buir – and Goran; she's much older than him, though he has no idea how old she is exactly – helped him move past the traumas he endured there. But that's nothing remotely close to slavery, and Din knows he'll never be able to fully relate to Anakin's experiences. The best he can do is try to understand.

"It was destroyed," he answers, thinking back to the Razor Crest. Grogu makes a sad sound at that, so Din soothes him. "Remember that fighter, buddy? We never got to test it out though." He does regret that. He and Grogu ended up here in the past before Din would have taken Grogu on a ride in the modified N-1 fighter. Unfortunate. The kid would have loved it, he knows.

"Anakin and I can run the junkshop," Shmi suggests. "We can make sales there and get some credits that way."

Din nods in agreement. "You'll have to get the body out of there. I'll start looking around." He needs jobs and a starship. Neither should be a problem on Tatooine. Maybe he can even get another Razor Crest. ... Or not. He doesn't actually know when that model was first produced, but it was sometime before the Empire. It's still before the Empire by a little more than ten years; he isn't clear on the specific dates and years when everything transpired. It never mattered to him before because it had no bearing on Mandalore or his job.

He looks down at Grogu, who is now clutching the shiny ball in his hands, gnawing on it. "Keep him with you," he states at last, handing him to Shmi. He doesn't like the idea of leaving his kid behind anywhere, especially not after having been separated from him for so long, but it's for the best. Grogu will be safer with Shmi than he will be with him. Besides, he's trying to find a job. It would be easier if he doesn't have to worry about his kid.

Then, he looks at Anakin. This is – he's never done anything like this before. Well, the first night after getting Grogu back, Din whispered the words to him. He couldn't help it. He had to, because he couldn't – couldn't bear the thought of being separated from the kid again. Grogu was already his foundling, and officially adopting him didn't change anything. That moment has been one of the happiest ones in his life.

"Ni kyr'tayli gai sa'ad," he says to Anakin, feeling, and trying to ignore, the rising wave of emotions.

"What does that mean?" Anakin asks quietly.

"The – the literal translation in Basic is 'I know your name as my child.' It's the Mandalorian vow of adoption for a foundling," Din tells him. He doesn't add that there's an immense responsibility that comes with saying that. It means that he's honor-bound to protect and raise Anakin – and Grogu too, of course – as his own child. He has to teach and train them as Mando'ade. They need to know the Resol'nare; they are sworn to follow the Creed for the rest of their lives, and if they choose not to... well, that will be their choice, but they will be dar'manda.

Anakin doesn't understand the burden that Din now carries, but Shmi does. He can see the respect and approval in her eyes, though she remains silent. Grogu coos, delighted, and Anakin steps forwards, flinging his arms around Din in a sudden, unexpected embrace. Din rests a hand on his back, and when Anakin pulls away, Din can see the myriad of emotions on the boy's face.

"Thank you." His voice is quiet, and maybe a little shy.

Din nods to him. "I'm going out now," he informs them. "Ad'ika –" this is addressed to Grogu, "– try to stay out of trouble, okay? Behave."

Grogu babbles something incomprehensive with a smile, and Din could swear that he's saying something sassy like "who me?" or "never." He chuckles quietly before leaving the hovel, feeling a sense of contentment wash over him. His aliit is growing. Anakin is now a part of it, and Shmi, too, by extension, though its different with her. It's time for him to do what he does best: bounty hunting.

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The first day isn't nearly as successful as Din would have liked, but he did get one low-paying job which he carried out. Part of his problem is that no one knows him or his reputation anymore so he's starting from scratch. He can't charge as much as he would have in the past (future?), and people aren't as likely to pay him extra for being fast and efficient. It's annoying, but he'll take what he can get. At least he's getting some credits. He has his new family to take care of now.

Upon Din's return, Anakin eagerly takes him to where he's building the pod racer. Grogu comes along, because Din had missed him, honestly, even if it was only half a day. "See?" Anakin says eagerly, uncovering it. "It's still missing a few parts, and I'll need to finish the engine, but it's mostly done."

To be honest, it doesn't look like much, but after putting Grogu in the satchel where he'll safely stay away from anything dangerous, Din studies it closer. It's entirely handmade, salvaged and rebuilt from a crash, and again, he finds himself more than a little impressed at Anakin's skills. It hurts to know that the boy learned them because of his childhood, but those are useful skills. Din himself isn't that much of a mechanic, at least not when compared to Anakin. He knows ships, of course, he knows how to fix them, but he doesn't know if he could have rebuilt an entire podracer like this from scratch. Or a droid, for that matter.

"It's impressive," Din remarks, running his hands over the surface as he checks it out. "I imagine it would fly well in the upcoming pod race that you mentioned."

Anakin brightens instantly with excitement, and Din frowns. "Don't even think about it," he chides, lightly, teasingly. He doesn't know Anakin very well yet, so he's trying to be careful not to upset him while still being firm when necessary. "You are not going to be in that race."

"Why not?" Anakin whines, "I can win, and we'll get a lot of credits."

Din is quiet for a moment as he tries to figure out how to explain this to Anakin. It's not – Ka'ra, the kid thinks he has to do something useful, or Din won't keep him around. That's not how it works, but it's how Anakin's lived his whole life. For a brief second, he thinks that he should have killed Watto differently. He would have deserved it, but... torture is not really the Mandalorian way. Revenge is.

"Ad'ika," he says gently, laying a hand on Anakin's shoulder, "It's not a question of whether or not you'll win. I don't want you to be in danger like that, and it's not your responsibility to get credits. It's mine. It's my job to take care of you. You don't have to do anything to earn it. I'm not going to abandon you. Children are the future. This is the Way."

He doesn't think that Anakin understands, not really, but he'll keep explaining it to him until he does, as many times as is necessary. Anakin chews on his lip, looking uncertain. "Are you sure?"

"Absolutely," Din promises. "What I was going to suggest, however, is that we finish building this and then paint it. I think it could sell for quite a lot, especially right now."

Anakin lights up at that, though there's still some lingering confusion and unease in his eyes. "Yes! I can make a list of parts we need. I think the shop should have everything."

After a short detour to the junkshop, they return and get to work. It's nice to be able to build something like this with someone, with his child. Grogu is left to wander around the yard with strict orders to stay close. If he doesn't... well, they're all keeping an eye on him.

"Will you teach me Mahn-doe-ah?" Anakin carefully sounds out the word, but Din is impressed that he even knows it. Or not. He glances quickly at Grogu who is rolling the metal ball on the ground and running around after it. He'll have to wash that later. Wouldn't want the kid to put in his mouth when it's so dirty.

"Of course," he agrees, giving Anakin his full attention again. "Did Grogu teach you that word?" he questions, amused. He knows that his kids have probably talked to each other today, and it wouldn't surprise him to know that Grogu was sharing Mando'a words he knows with Anakin.

"Yeah," Anakin confirms, with a smile. "He told me a few words actually."

"Really?" He's curious, okay? He's told Grogu a lot of words in the time they've spent together, and he even talks in half-Mando'a sometimes, but he didn't realize that the kid was picking up the words and learning them.

Anakin's smile turns shy. "He told me the word for father," he offers. "It's what he calls you."

That makes him feel all warm inside, and he looks towards Grogu again. He – it's not like he didn't know – or suspect anyways – that Grogu thought that, but having it confirmed... It's more than Din ever dreamed of, and it – this, having a family, makes him happier than he ever thought possible. It won't always be easy, he knows, but they're Mandalorians. They'll stay together to the end because this is the Way.

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Mando'a Translations:

buy'ce - helmet

buir - father, mother

Goran - armorer

Ni kyr'tayli gai sa'ad - "I know your name as my child"; traditional Mandalorian adoption phrase

Mando'ade - Mandalorian (literally, sons/daughters of Mandalore)

Resol'nare - Six Actions, the tenets of Mando life

dar'manda - not Mandalorian (not an outsider, but one who has lost his heritage, and so his identity and his soul - regarded with absolute dread by most traditionally-minded Mando'ade)

ad'ika - little one

aliit - family, clan

Ka'ra - stars (ancient Mandalorian myth - ruling council of fallen kings)