Heading back to the inn he caught sight of the proprietor who motioned toward a set of stairs beside the canteen that was almost hidden from sight if you didn't go past the reception desk.

"I'll send a meal up in about ten minutes." She said with a smile. He nodded in thanks and turned to go up the stairs to the second floor.

It wasn't lost on him that the entire building seemed designed to repel an attack from the outside. Sturdy doorways, alcoves one could duck into and use as cover, and even the spacing of the windows seemed to solidify the idea. For one there were only windows on one side of the halls. For another they were all narrow and looked out into the street at angles that made it difficult for anyone to shoot up into.

Finding his room at the very end of the hall he entered and glanced around for anything that might immediately seem out of place.

The room was a single, like he'd asked for, and was quite cozy looking. There was a sturdy bed with what appeared to be a knit blanket draped over the end and a pair of solid looking nightstands to the right and left. At the end of the bed was a metal trunk and when he cautiously opened it he found it was designed to hold both weapons and other gear. Opening the closet across from the bed his eyes widened when he saw the stand clearly meant to house armor. Shutting the door he turned to his left, toward the wide window with thick shutters. It was large enough that he could use it as a quick escape route if he needed to but the shutters looked like they could take a lot of blaster fire before they broke. In the corner next to the window was a heavy looking table in the corner with two artfully carved chairs. Next to that was a door to a fresher with a sonic shower.

Once his curiosity and feelings of precaution had been appeased he closed, and locked, the door to his suite. Leaning back against the door he let out a relieved sigh. So many things had been thrown at him in a very short amount of time and even with all his years as one of the covert's top beroya he was mentally exhausted.

The door behind him shook slightly with the force of someone knocking and he stiffened before cautiously unlocking and opening the door a crack. A young human male stood there with a covered tray and smiled at him. "Su'cuy jatne vod, I'm from the kitchens. The boss said to bring this up to you." Din relaxed a touch and nodded as he took the tray from their hands.

It was warm.

"Vor'e." The young man smiled again and gave him a polite nod before leaving.

Closing the door he made sure to lock it once again. He went to the table and set the tray down. There was a waft of spices from under the cover and Din felt his heart squeeze in his chest. Lifting the cover off the tray he sagged at the sight of orange tinged tiingilar. In his first days with the mandalorians, before he even knew what being a mando'ad meant, he'd been given some yellow tiingilar. Coming from a planet where heavy spices were commonly used in cooking he had taken one bite and started to cry. It had shocked his poor buir into panicking, asking whether it was too hot and if he was in pain.

The memory made him chuckle as he cautiously discarded his gloves, looking at the window and the door with some trepidation. He told himself he was as safe as he was going to be for the time being and reached up to unseal his helmet.

"Hold a moment, please." His fingers twitched and entire body went rigid with alarm.

How could he have forgotten that someone, technically, was with him in the room? There was a small sigh as Tarre reappeared sitting on the bed, arms crossed loosely and cloak pooling around her. The bed didn't even dip, as if she were entirely weightless armor or no.

"I knew this would happen." She muttered to herself. "You needn't worry about breaking the Creed with me." Din turned to give her an incredulous look. How would he not be breaking the Creed? "First of all, I am not alive in the most commonly understood definition of the word." Din blinked and frowned to himself. She wasn't exactly wrong, she was a ghost after all. "There is also the fact that you and I are going to be family." He spluttered slightly.

"What? How?" That seemed pretty presumptuous of her.

She let out a chuckle and reached up to her own helmet. Din's breath caught in his throat as the hiss of a broken seal filled the room. He wanted to avert his eyes but found he couldn't move as long black hair with a faint reddish tinge spilled down the woman's shoulders.

Golden eyes that seemed far more alive than anything he had ever seen before looked directly at him, as if they could see through his armor and directly into his soul. Her skin was a warm olive with golden undertones that seemed to make her glow faintly in the sparse sunlight coming through the window. Her features were sharply defined and almost masculine, with almond shaped eyes and well defined lips. There was a scar across the bridge of her handsome nose tapering to a stop below her right eye that looked to have come from a wickedly sharp straight edged blade.

It only made her look all the more beautiful and deadly.

"Both the jetiise and our own people believe that one who mentors is like a parent to the one being mentored. In both cases that bond solidifies and the two become like family. With the force such a bond will be a tangible thing, something that you will be hard pressed to ignore. As your teacher in the force I will become your master and you will be my apprentice." She watched him quietly for a moment. "I will always remain with you, unable to leave until my purpose has been fulfilled. Unless you can accept the fact that we will be as close as family you will find no peace within yourself." Uncrossing her arms she stood, looming slightly over him though she was only a couple of inches taller.

She reached out and gently placed a hand on his shoulder. "We are in this together, Din."

It was the gentleness of her words and the feelings of comfort, safety, and understanding that finally allowed him to breathe. Fingers shaking he gripped the edges of his helmet and, like ripping off a bacta patch, he yanked his helmet off and set it down with a heavy thud of finality.

It took him longer than he'd like to admit to finally meet her eyes but when he did he could feel the approval and affection that swept through him as she smiled. Fingers gently brushed against his cheek and he closed his eyes at the ghostly touch, surprised at its warmth. "There you are, ner ad." He blinked open his eyes at the declaration and she chuckled. "Yes, I would claim you as my child." He frowned in concern.

Din had been gifted with three wonderful parents in his life and he didn't know if he could handle having another one. After all this time he barely remembered the first two, his birth mother and father, only flashes of kind eyes and long silky hair. His buir was a more recent memory but had marched far away over ten years ago. The man with hazel eyes and a kind smile, despite his heavily scarred face and hands, always invoked a feeling of being safe in Din.

"Oh, Din'ika," he startled slightly at the endearment, "I am not here to replace any of your loved ones. I am only a guide, a shelter, a place for you to put yourself back together and grow stronger for what is to come." He swallowed and looked away from her face, so unused to simple kindness after being outside in the galaxy for so long. "Ni kar'tayl gai sa'ad, Din Djarin. If you will have me."

He was quiet for a moment as his thoughts ran wild through his head. Taking a deep breath he let it out with a faint shudder, quieting the chaos that was his mind. After thinking about it carefully he finally made his decision.

"Lek. I… I would like that." Tarre smiled at him brightly.

"Then we are family and you have nothing to fear. From this day forward I will guard you as I have all my children." Din chewed on his bottom lip, wanting to ask but unsure whether or not he should.

"Will you… tell me about them?" There was a bright flash of joy and Tarre's smile broadened into something more playful.

"Of course I will tell you about your siblings. Though they have long since marched away I have never forgotten them." The woman motioned with her hand and the second chair at the table shifted backward. Din jumped slightly, eyes wide, and Tarre laughed as she sat down. "Eat, ner ad, and I will regale you with stories of the far past." Taking his own seat he pulled the tiingilar closer and dug into the meal.

It was nice to eat so openly without fear, Tarre's rich alto voice washing over him as she spun tales of siblings Din would never meet.

When he was finished his meal he put his helmet back on and left the tray outside his door, against the wall and out of the way. He eyed the fresher door then glanced over at Tarre, a faint flush of embarrassment on his face. She laughed at his expression.

"I will remain out here and guard the room, have no fear." Feeling a little more settled he entered the fresher and closed the door.

Although the shower was a sonic the sink had actual water. Cupping his hands under the water he splashed some on his face and rubbed at his tired eyes. Looking at his face in the mirror his eyes went wide before he remembered what Tarre had said about his body. The young man that was looking back at him was like an echo of a memory. There were bags under his eyes from lack of proper sleep and his face was a little gaunt. The first couple of years outside the covert had been lean and he hadn't taken the best care of himself then, more worried about the foundlings than himself.

It was Paz who'd taken him aside and reminded him that half starving himself would only end in him slipping up, making a mistake, and ending up dead. Then what use would he be to the covert then? What would his late buir think? And how would his death aid the foundlings? It had been the wake-up call he'd needed after his buir's death and even if he and Paz still fought occasionally he was grateful to the big man for his guidance.

Taking a quick sonic he used the water from the sink to wash out the worst stains from his under layers and used the sonic to dry them. Once he was clean he entered the main room to find Tarre sitting on the floor next to the door to the suite, eyes closed and a peaceful look on her face. He hesitated for a moment, looking at the armor pieces in his arms, before coming out into the main room and setting them down on the table as quietly as he could.

Creeping silently over to the closet he opened the door and grabbed the armor cleaning supplies he'd spotted in there earlier. There was a set of tools in the metal box at the foot of the bed and he gratefully took those as well. A few of his systems needed calibration and some tweaks o make up for the slight changes in his body.

"You will have to visit an armorer soon." He fumbled the tool in his hand and sent a heated look over at Tarre for startling him. The woman smiled at him and he could feel her amusement all the way from the other side of the room.

He briefly wondered how far away she could actually go from him before he could no longer feel her.

"I'll go once I have steady enough work to pay them." He groused. Tarre let out a low hum and just watched him as he fiddled with his armor.

"You're very good at that." He glanced at her then back down to his work.

"Have to be. There's no one else when you're on a planet in the middle of nowhere and something goes wrong." Like his fight against the mudhorn that had earned him his signet.

"It is pure beskar?" He nodded as he fused two wires together and cursed when it sparked against his fingers. Flicking his hand to dispel the pain he let out a huff of annoyance before returning to his task. "That may cause a problem." Din stopped and looked over at her in confusion.

"How?" Tarre waved him closer. After a moment of quietly considering her request he got up from the table and came to stand in front of her.

"Sit." She instructed.

Din knelt and sat back on his heels, hands on his thighs. Her eyes crinkled at the edges and she shook her head as if amused.

That was okay, she always seemed to be amused with him for some reason.

"Beskar is one of the few substances in the galaxy that can deter the force. It is no wonder no one realized you were force sensitive if you've been wearing your buy'ce and never taking it off around others. It should have felt stifling, almost suffocating, but I believe the block someone put in your mind was enough to shield you from the worst of it. You would have felt cut off from everything to begin with." Din swallowed hard.

When he'd first worn a helmet it had been made of durasteel. But after his buir's death the armor had been stripped of color and melted down to distribute amongst the foundlings. Din was the only one who was not a child who had received a helmet made of pure beskar from his buir's armor.

"He wanted you to have something of him if he ever marched onward." The armorer had said, radiating grief and duty in equal measure.

The helmet had felt different from the durasteel he was used to. It was as if the world around him had gone quiet, the kind of quiet that sent a shiver of fear down your spine. But he had been filled with grief at the passing of his buir and thought it was only his grief that made everything feel off for the first few months.

Over time he had grown numb to the feeling and moved on with his life.

"Now that the block has been removed it will be more taxing on you to remain hidden behind your buy'ce." Din felt panic rise in his chest. "Calm yourself, ner ad, there is an easy solution. You need to take your helmet to a proper bes'goran and tell them you need an allow known as Bes'ka'runi. They will understand and do the work discreetly." He frowned.

"Star soul iron?" Tarre nodded.

"Star touched are mando'ade who wield the force, like myself, and star soul iron is an alloy that allows us to remain in touch with the force while also wearing beskar. It is not well known outside of the older clans and the bes'goran'e. At one time there were quite a few force sensitive mando'ade, but I fear that tensions between Mandalore and the Republic made our kind more inclined to hide themselves, rather than wield their power proudly as they once did." Din tried to follow along but he knew that his lack of knowledge was hindering his thought process.

"Hmm, we will have to add history to your lessons it seems. I can sense your confusion." Din's face flushed slightly. "There is no shame in not knowing something, only in not wanting to learn." Another old saying he knew well from his days as a child in he covert. "For starters I am going to teach you a simple meditation. From now on I want you to do this every night before you sleep. It will help keep you stable while you are learning to call on the force and over time your ability to find calm in any situation will be a boon." She looked down at him for a moment. "But first you'll need to change your position. Your legs will go to sleep if you stay like that for a full session of meditation."

Din looked at how Tarre was sitting, legs crossed in front of her, and shifted until he was sitting the same way.

"Good. Now this first time I am going to lead you through what it should feel like. First we start with breathing."

The next hour passed in the blink of an eye.

"You've done well, Din. Your natural affinity with shielding and hiding your presence will be very useful in the future. For now you should get some proper sleep." Sagging forward slightly he blinked slowly up at the woman.

It felt as if he'd spent six straight hours doing drills. How was he so exhausted?

"You were channeling the force as you meditated. Such a thing takes a toll on the body. Like any other training you will feel weak and sluggish at first but over time you will grow stronger. Now go to bed, Din. You have much to do tomorrow." With a small groan he got to his feet and made his way to the bed.

In his under layers he slid under the covers of the bed and fell back with a tired sigh. Reaching over to the switch on the wall he hesitated to turn out the light.

"Rest, ner ad. I'll keep watch. A ghost has no need of sleep. You will be safe, I swear it." Her words held more comfort in them than she probably intended but it was enough for Din to turn out the light and pull the blanket up over his chest, under his arms. As a precaution he slipped the knife he kept hidden in his sleeve under the pillow, one hand close enough to touch the hilt.

In the darkness of the room he felt himself drifting off, unable to stop his exhausted body and mind from falling asleep. Something moved in the darkness and a reassuring weight settled over his body.

"Good night, Din'ika."

Mando'a

Beroya- Bounty Hunter
Su'cuy- Hello, informal greetings.
Jatne vod- Sir, formal term used to address customers.
Vor'e- Informal thanks.
Tiingilar- A spicy Mandalorian dish.
Buir- Gender neutral word for parent.
Jetiise- Jedi, plural.
Ner ad- My child.
Din'ika- Meaning Little Din. Ika is a diminutive, similar to the Japanese use of the word Chan.
Ni kar'tayl gai sa'ad- I know your name as my child. The words used in the Mandalorian adoption rite.
Lek- Informal word for yes.
Buy'ce- Helmet.
Bes'goran'e- Beskar smith, plural.

Idioms

Marching far away/marching onward- Someone who has died is said to have 'marched far away' and is believed to never be gone as long as someone remembers them.