#din is still creed-pilled 😅

[the-kittylorian-writes]

“A Future Yet Unknown”

Rating: General Audiences

Type: One-shot

Word Count: 1k+

Summary:

As Din Djarin leaves after consulting with the Armorer in the Covert’s new hideout, someone else stops him on the way out.

Spoilers for s03ep01

Read on AO3 or here:

“A Future Yet Unknown”

“Then I will see you again,” were Din’s parting words with the Armorer.

That was all Din could believe for himself in that moment. Those were words he reassured himself with, more so than with anyone—that all roads would lead him back to his Covert, one which had sheltered him, cared for him, and taught him how to fight. The Tribe whose lessons helped him measure the odds that both plague and adorn his existence.

This was the home he had ever known, before Grogu, and after.

Din’s shoulders felt heavier from a huge unknown burden. He was walking away once again from this only identity, to go forth and prove himself for a place among his brothers and sisters when he returned. It was fortunate that many have recouped to this planet and were rebuilding in small ways.

He thought he heard another pair of footsteps other than Grogu’s, and Din stilled.

The footsteps were light, yet full of promise. They were also the footsteps of a child.

“H-hello…” said a young voice.

Din turned to face its source.

Grogu had already made his way to the tips of Din’s boots and looked up to follow his father’s helmeted gaze.

A Mandalorian child stood before them, and from the looks of the boy’s helmet, it was newly forged and painted.

Din recognized the child. It was the newly converted young warrior of the Tribe.

Din said nothing. He shouldn’t linger, but he felt compelled to stay a minute longer for this child.

Having sought Din’s attention, it seemed the child grew bolder. His little voice filled the air.

“I—th-thank you. Thank you, mister, for saving us back there with your missiles… sir.”

The child stooped a little, as if unsure. While the boy’s movements were subdued, he appeared very much willing to converse with Din, perhaps not knowing who this silver-clad Mandalorian really was. Din was no longer of the Tribe… at least, for now.

Din couldn’t think of any other reply but to give the boy a wordless nod. He was about to turn heel and exit the cave, but Grogu stood so still. Din stopped to patiently wait for his son to follow suit, as always.

Grogu cooed, encouraged by another child’s friendliness. The boy’s helmet turned to Grogu.

Something like a tiny, delighted laugh escaped the boy’s vocoder.

“I-is he your son, mister?” asked the boy.

Din stood still, said nothing. That was all he was to the Tribe now: a shadow, a ghost.

The child, as Mandalorian children were, was stubborn, but not impudently so.

Grogu cooed again; the boy giggled again.

They seem to be having a conversation which Din didn’t dare come in between. As it was, they truly needed to leave. He was about to call his son’s name when the boy spoke once more.

“What’s your name?” The child was addressing Grogu. The boy tapped his own little chest in a lighthearted gesture. His young voice was filled with awe and a pinched sort of joy. “I know we’re not supposed to tell our names to strangers, but you don’t look like strangers. My name’s Rag—“

“Ad’ika!!!”

A deep voice boomed robustly throughout the cave.

The boy gasped, came to senses as if recovering from a slap and abruptly turned to the one who called him “little one.”

It was Paz Vizsla. The towering blue-clad warrior stood a few paces behind the little boy.

Din noticed the moment where the child tensed. The boy took one last look at him and Grogu before offering Paz a feeble nod. The child dashed off into the farther recesses of the cave.

There was only silence as the two armored men gave each other a stare-down.

Finally, it was Paz who spoke.

“You loiter too long,” the hulking Mandalorian told Din matter-of-factly. Din was both surprised and suspicious that he detected no spite or vitriol in the other man’s tone. “Do what you need to do, but don’t speak to any of our brethren in this Covert while you remain apostate.”

Paz couldn’t even say Din’s name, or address him in any way but that of an estranged brother.

“Paz…” Din began.

“Leave.”

Din felt his heart pound. He needed to know somehow, even if it further risked Paz’s ire.

“That child—is he your foundling?”

Paz’s broad shoulders further bucked. The large Mandalorian bristled and stilled, but said nothing.

Din knew that Paz would not entertain his presence any longer. Din had decided to pick Grogu up instead, cradle his son back to the ship. Grogu fidgeted and his large eyes were filled with an odd, sad light.

He was nearing the lip of the cave when out of nowhere, Paz spoke.

“Ragnar.”

Din held his breath as he turned to face his old friend again.

“My foundling’s name is Ragnar. He has just sworn the Creed.”

Din found a window to let his once-dear friend and comrade know.

“He’s already shown great courage.”

It took a while before Paz nodded. “Yes.”

Grogu’s babbles were a soothing balm to add to this precious moment of one brother communing with the other. Small words that held solemn meaning.

“I saw you, Paz, before I pulled the ship’s trigger on the creature. You went in between Ragnar and harm’s way when that monster loomed too close to him…”

There was a glint in Paz’s visor as its gaze pinned Din with it.

“You had done the same.”

Din felt Grogu’s small claws and soft hands grip his gloved fingers, as if the child understood this terse conversation.

Against his will, Din’s voice broke as he reminded Paz of an adage treasured by all of the Covert: “The foundlings are the future.”

Another beat passed. Paz had punctuated their brief exchange with a long-winded huff. The hulking warrior’s visor landed on Grogu for a while; Paz’s broad frame seemed to relax. Then with bounding footsteps, he walked off into the inner cave, perhaps to rejoin his young clan member.

While Din started powering the starfighter up with Grogu tucked in his pod behind him, Din felt a blanket of comfort.

Paz knew. He knew that once a child was in your care, that no hells could ever come for the little one you love, because you would willingly stand in the way. You would take armor and blaster and every breath in your mortal body to stave all danger away, not while the child you love was still learning their path.

The foundlings were the future, even if the future remained a huge, winding unknown.

******

A/N: Theory’s around that Ragnar is either Paz’s foundling or son, and the kid would be a recurring character. Since this ep was Ragnar’s debut, I still have no idea what his personality is, but he could either be nice, or just as a meanie as his “dad” Pazzy. 🙈

Hope you enjoyed and thanks for reading! 💙

(You can read second part which can also be stand-alone on AO3 or Tumblr. Yes I'm now invested in this possible father-son conncection. TuT)

#the mandalorian fanfiction #the mandalorian season 3 #mando season 3 spoilers #star wars fanfiction #din djarin #grogu #paz vizsla #foundlings are the future #father and son things #new kid on the block #my fics #my writing #din is still creed-pilled 😅 #possibly ragnar vizsla