Warning: Tooth rotting fluff? Pregnancy talk? I donno. Nothing too heinous.
A/N: Christ life has taken some...turns lately. I do have much of the rest chapter planned out...just sort of requires me having time to write it. lol And that next chapter should conclude this first part or what I what I predict will be the third third of this story, but we'll see...
...
"You're what?" Cara asked on widened eyes, as Karga beside her spat up some of his cocktail.
"I'm retiring," Mando repeated simply.
"The best bounty hunter in the galaxy!" Karga cried. "Retiring! What for?"
The helmet moved slightly toward Karga. "I think that's my business."
"Wouldn't have anything to do with that pretty blonde you've been seen with, hmm?"
Mando remained quiet, but beneath the helmet, he couldn't stop his mouth dropping open.
"Come now, the second best business for me besides bounties is gossip. And it's a popular commodity across the galaxy, so business is usually good. I've heard things about you being seen with a woman in a few places over these last few months."
"Settling down?" Cara smiled.
The helmet turned to the former shock trooper. "Maybe."
Karga rolled his eyes. "Always cagey, this one. See that trait won't be going into retirement. I, for one, am happy for you, Mando. Where do you plan on settling down?"
Din took a deep breath, but otherwise didn't respond. His companions shared a chuckle at his continued secrecy. Karga sighed, as he started to drum his fingers on the table between them. He was about to make a crack about knowing where to send a congratulations gift, but Cara broke in.
"What about the little one?"
The helmet dropped just a fraction. "I haven't been able to find any more of my people, much less his. I figured...it's time to plan on keeping him as a foundling."
Mando was met with big smiles. "That is definitely great news. Our friend has accepted his role as a father. Think that calls for more drinks."
How little did Karga know the truth of his words. But his own flesh and blood offspring would be kept even more of a secret. They would be so much more helpless than the green babe, and he thus felt even more fiercely protective over them.
...
Lissa sat on the swinging bench on their front porch, reading from another mechanical maintenance book. Din had asked why she would want to keep reading them, but she found the topic too interesting after all this time, and her options as far activities at this point too few.
She ran a hand over her swollen stomach, over the child who was now about seven months along. She felt them stirring for the umpteenth time that day. While it would bring her joy to feel them alive and literally kicking inside her, it also made her nervous, especially the closer to her due date she was and the further away Din may have been at the time.
The happy squeals and coos of their son caught her attention. She watched as he played in the dirt and mud, treating it as beach sand as he worked to build up a little hut or other structure out of the mess with his cup and other tools.
It brought both of them much happiness, to see the little one able to truly be a child. To enjoy a childhood mostly denied them and likely, up to this point, denied their son as well.
The comm on Lissa' wrist came to life. "Cyar'ika, I will be home shortly."
She pressed a button. "Can't wait. Make it home safe."
"For you, always."
They had found this place not long after saying their vows.
"We can't just keep hopping from planet to planet with two little ones in toe," she had said with tears in her eyes, brought on largely by a rush of hormones coursing through her bloodstream, but also by a bone tiredness present in her before even their child had been.
"You're right," he'd agreed, with no protest or comment. "You're right."
A few days later, after much research between bounties, they had gone off course a considerable distance, until they were at the greatest edges of the Outer Rim and nowhere near a trade route. A forest planet, smaller, only "recently" (within the last 200 years or so) occupied, and sparsely even then. Populated by little village colonies of simple people who farmed and hunted and foraged for a local berry fruit that was a popular treat on some other planets.
"This is beautiful," Lissa breathed out, after the side door of the Crest was lowered and all three of their aliit walked out onto crinkling pine needles and crunching leaves. A chill autumnal wind moved easily through the air. She had already gotten into the habit of absent-mindedly running her hand over her stomach at that point, even though she wasn't really showing at all at that point. If Din would notice and he was nearby, as he was then, he would wrap a beskar-clad arm around her torso.
"It is," he whispered, but loud enough she could hear him through the modulator. All he was really staring at was her.
A shy smile as Lissa looked down, then up. "Let's keep looking around."
They came upon a village. The people were friendly but wary, although both Din and Lissa suspected that had more to do with their generally being strangers than being a fully armored man accompanying an armed woman, herself cradling a young, unknown species of alien. Particularly since several species seemed to call the place home.
They inquired of a particularly friendly shop keeper whether he knew of any property or land for sale nearby. Next thing they knew they were following a worn path into the woods north of the village, and within about two and a half kilometers they had happened upon an abandoned cottage that was maybe one more neglected winter away from really falling apart.
Grogu whined when, after opening the front door and stepping inside, some dust rained down from the ceiling. "Booo-mah," he mumbled into Lissa's shirt after smooshing his face into his mother's chest.
Din was looking around the place, feeling like it was a bit too far gone for him to do much with it before their next child was due to arrive.
"It's alright baby. It just needs some...love."
Din turned to Lissa and Grogu, his eyes staying on them for a moment. "Yeah. Yeah, maybe so."
They almost couldn't believe the price. There was more than enough to completely redo the ramshackle shack into home, including new furnishings. The larger problem was one of manpower: for Din, there was no way his pregnant wife or toddler son were going to help with anything, despite their protests and Force-enabled displays that they could. But...it was slowing going, at first.
"We could help you," Loren, their closest neighbor, suggested, as he stood next to his wife, who had brought over some sort of baked treat for them as a housewarming gift. "A few of us could come over and move your furniture there. Help with some of the repairs?"
Din was hesitant. When it was just him, he had the benefit of usually being able to remove his helmet, rather than sweat in the thing as he lifted, hefted, and shoved, hammered, sanded, and painted. He had enjoyed the change of pace, but it had its drawbacks.
"Sure," he'd sighed, "why not."
To his relief and surprise, none of the men asked about the helmet, his appearance, his creed and what it was like or meant to be a Mandalorian. Nor did any of the womenfolk who helped Lissa set up the home's kitchen, organize linens, and start their garden ask anything about her past or why she was with Din. Why their son didn't seem to take after either of them or didn't seem to have a specific name... They simply offered their help and friendship as neighbors, for which both former bounty hunters were immensely grateful.
The familiar roar of the Razor Crest's engines brought Lissa out of her reveries. A clearing some 30 meters from their house provided a parking spot of sorts, where the Crest was most of the time.
Neither of them had the inclination to do any real farming, and they had too little land to yield much beyond their own needs, anyway. Fortunately, Din had been able to parlay his skills into hunting the local fauna and selling the meat and fur to local merchants.
Lissa watched the forest before her. Within several minutes, she saw the familiar silver glint and smiled.
Din could feel something in him brighten the minute he caught even the slightest glance of the cabin. The permanence and comfort it represented and gave were things he never honestly thought he'd have. The swell he could feel inside his chest when he saw Lissa wave him over to where she was sat on their front porch was still somewhat unfamiliar, but not at all unwelcome.
"Hello mesh'la," he greeted her, right before slipping off the helmet. They were far enough away from the village or any other homstead that he felt comfortable enough to take it off outside for brief periods.
"Hi you." She held out a hand, bidding him to come sit down by her, but he took it into his own and brought it up to his full lips. He kissed the back of her hand. "More radiant than when I last saw you."
That earned an eye roll. "Probably also 50 pounds heavier, with bags under my eyes courtesy of your demon spawn I'm carrying who won't let me rest for five minutes before they have to knock around one of my vital organs..."
Din smiled. He moved to kneel next to his wife. "Hey," he spoke gently to their child, as he rubbed a gloved hand over Lissa's swollen stomach. "Why don't you give your mother a break, huh?"
Another kick, right to where Din's palm rested.
"I feel you, ad'ika," Din whispered, as his thumb moved back and forth. "Your buir feels you."
"They don't have to be so violent for me to feel them..." Lissa sighed, as she rubbed her stomach.
After a pause: "He or she's already a warrior." Din looked up into her eyes. "Just like their mother."
A gentle smile broke out over Lissa's face. She tried not to cry. As much as she wanted to blame that on her hormones, she understood the complement and respect behind those words, coming from her Mandalorian, and that inevitably brought so much tenderness inside of her.
"Eh! Eh!"
They looked down to see their green son looking up at them, his arms outstretched for "uppies."
Din reached down and snatched him up. He already felt guilty at times, when he felt like he may be inadvertently ignoring the boy in favor of their unborn child. He held the green babe close to him and kissed him on the forehead. "And how are you, ad'ika?"
Grogu smiled, but he was quick to point down at Lissa, and to move in Din's arms so he was facing her, with his arms outstretched again.
"You want your mother?" Din inquired on an uncertain note.
Lissa held out her arms. "Give 'em to me. He needs his mama's love too."
Lissa sat up straighter, as Din moved to sit aside her. He let go of Grogu, who clamored over to his mother's lap. He leaned his small body forward, nestling into his mother's stomach, with a large, floppy ear settled against it. He closed his eyes.
"So strange..." Lissa muttered after a few moments.
Din moved forward. "What is?" he asked, the concern obvious in his voice and his eyes.
Lissa shook her head. "No, no. Nothing bad. It's just...for the first time in days the baby isn't moving around in there, and I feel so calm... It may be in my head, but I wonder if he's doing it..." she moved her chin, indicating Grogu in her arms. The green babe was still cuddled up as close as possible to his mother, to the new life inside her.
Din reached out a hand, but withdrew it. He wanted to express his love, as well as his gratitude, if it was indeed Grogu doing some sort of...Jedi thing...to make Lissa and the baby more comfortable and calm. But he didn't want to disturb the boy, particularly if it would stop what he was doing.
So he simply sat and stared in awe and appreciation at the sight before him: the entire universe in the form of three people.
...
"We have great hopes for you."
The half-weequay, half-human bounty hunter raised his chin. "High hopes. High demands."
The Imp officer with his steely, cold eyes, and his hands clasped behind his rigid back, didn't waiver. "It has taken some time for our intelligence to pinpoint even a likely area where they may be hiding. Remember, you are hunting two of your own with this assignment. Some...of the best. It will take some time and effort."
A scoff. "They're no better than me."
"That remains to be seen." A shift of black fabric drew the hunter's attention to just behind the officer, to Moff Gideon. "But if and when you do find them, make sure the human man and woman don't survive. The child must be returned safe, and sound."
"But if you are able," a corner of the officer's mouth curled upward, fracturing the cool facade, "make sure the woman suffers."