While helping Grogu find a Jedi, an accident on Tython turned Din Djarin to a Force sensitive. Caught at a crossroads, he went back to Calodan to become the padawan of Ahsoka Tano but…Din's other life has caught up with him.
~(o.o)~
A/N: I love the story of Din Djarin and Grogu. Also I am writing this because of the force of my inspiration Pedro Pascal and not for monetary gain. I have spoken. This is the way!
1 : Yuno, Din's attendant would look like kid on the side of the road from Season 2 Episode 15-The Believer.
2: On Pinterest see Din Djarin's cute cottage in Calodan under the name Acer Wolfe at Silver Moon Inuyoukai board. You can also see the picture of the Mantis, Din's new vehicle.
Kindly leave a review to bolster my confidence and muse and tell me what you think. Thank you!
PADAWAN
CHAPTER 31
THE FOUNDLINGS
'Vaii Bic Ru'nartimir'
(Where it began)
The Boy
Where are they going?
The metal doors banged shut but left a slit of space that let the light in. In the dim light he could still see the image of the two people who lowered him in the grain bin. He waited for them to follow him. There's a lot of space for the three of us. We all can fit. He moves aside. They will be back. They just forgot something in the house.
A loud explosion startled the boy, his butt squeeze further in the corner but it disturbed the flour bags behind him, the powder floated around him like a fog. The cloud settles on him on and a very thin dust covers his face.
His heart beats fast like a bird and all of a sudden he had a bad feeling. The sound of approaching heavy steps and mechanical whirring made him want to curl into a small ball in his tiny corner. He wished he could disappear until the danger has passed. The heavy treads stopped and he knew…it's there…its coming for him…
He sat there for, like, eternity waiting…barely breathing. Time seemed to stop and stretch at the same time.
Suddenly the metal doors were yanked violently open.
His leg jerked at the big sound and tore open a grain bag with his boot, the tiny pellets emptying on his brown boots. The sun blinds his eyes for a moment before something blocks the glare. A frisson of fear traveled from his head down to his back…he looks up…
A droid peers into his hiding place. The circle of its blaster points at him. He knew…he knew. That bad feeling….he closes his eyes.
The sun blinds him again but the machine is gone! There was another explosion on top of other explosions all around him. The grain bin is open. All he could see is a square patch of blue. A dark pillar of smoke rises up in the sky at the right lower corner of the opening,
He squeezes into the corner again as another thing blocks the light. Another droid?
His jaw dropped, he almost rubbed his eyes in disbelief.
He and the man in helmet look at each other.
The boy took the extended hand, and he was lifted up and out of that hole in the ground. The man held him to let him get his bearings as he gapes at the destruction around the village. He didn't recognize his own home. His friend's house from across the grain bin had almost been demolished. He knew the people who were broken, bleeding and dead on the ground.
The man firmly turned his face to his and he returned the nod. 'Take me out of here, please' was his silent plea.
The armor covered man carried him up into the air. When he looked down, the battle still goes on in his village. As he had never seen his village from this view it made him forget for just a few minutes the tragedy that happened to him, to his parents and to everyone he knew.
He was put in one of the seats and strapped in carefully, but before the warrior jumped into the void he gave him a nod and a pat on the shoulder.
The band of warriors would fly back up to bring some wounded soldiers or replenish munitions. The boy strains against the harness hoping to see if the next soldier would bring someone from his village.
He glanced out the porthole; the sun has moved much higher. He waited.
But the longer he waited the short feeling of relief was replaced with apprehension. He remained all alone in that huge hold.
The sun has now cast shadows. Still, he waited.
Tired and overwhelmed, the boy didn't know how long he waited for the battle to be over.
He leaned back and fell asleep.
He woke with a start, the ship was moving. The empty seats along the hull were now occupied by the armored people. The warriors were cleaning their weapons, talking quietly to each other. A few were applying first aid to minor wounds. The warriors on the ship were mostly men. Oh, he was wrong. Three of the guards were women! It took him a moment to figure why a few of them were different. Their voices ebb and flow, the sound strangely soothing but absolutely foreign to his ears. The boy Din realized that the people who saved him talk in a language that he hasn't heard of before this day. He knows some standard but he doesn't know this one.
What is unnerving for the boy was that he couldn't see any of their faces. Eyes as big as the twin suns of Tattoine he observes that very one of them have dark slits on their metal helmets. Earlier he had mistaken the man as a droid. What he also noticed was that none of them removed their helmet even after they got on the ship. He wonders how they can breathe under that metal. There's another detail: every one of them is covered from head to foot.
Din jumped out of his skin at a pat on his knee; it was one of the men. The man pointed to himself and to him with a motion of going up and flying. It was the man who rescued and carried him up! He nods. He remembers there were two deep scratches on the man's helmet and he has a blue triangle on his left glove.
The man held up a thumb then made a motion of eating. He must have blurted something because the man chuckled then somebody handed him a pack of dried fruit and a canteen of water. Casually, the man nodded at the food and gestured to 'go ahead and eat.'
The droids were destroyed but…he feels the grip of anxiety as he looks around the ship; he wanted to ask them so many questions. How? The boy looks up, startled.
The dark visor is turned at him. It's as if the man is waiting for him to ask the question. He takes a deep breath. He slowly points at the closed ramp and up at the man again and to his chest.
The man looks down. The boy clenches his fist as the tears fell. Although the man knew the boy couldn't understand him he seemed to pick his words in a tone of voice that is deep but surprisingly gentle.
Din Djarin felt the meaning of the strange words. He knew.
He is now alone.
-o-0-o-
The Child
It hurts.
Whenever he wakes up after they put him on that table, everything hurts. A pounding headache is what he would wake up with in the same beat as his heart. He stretches his hands out in front of him, the tips of his fingers feel cold as they touch his palms and they feel frail when he makes a fist.
Suppose he should get up and have some water…if his arms would stay steady to get him up from his cot. He must not get to get up fast or it would hurt worse if he falls off the bed.
The door hisses open. One of 'them' enters with a tray. When the attendant lowered the small metal tray beside him he was relieved to see that the dispenser was medication for the headache. He recognizes the color and the smell by now. It was a relief when the pounding in his head went away after a few seconds. It's the weakness that would linger.
The man would usually come in quietly; he would hang around, stand by the wall a little longer after the attendant leaves. They would look at each other from across the room. Sometimes the man would come over and wave a device over him but his eyes would always be on him. Every time the man lingers it looks like he wants to say something but he would awkwardly adjust his spectacles, sigh, smooth down his lab coat then step out.
People would mostly leave him alone after these 'sessions' maybe for a few weeks sometimes longer to recover. But he knows they are observing him from somewhere. He doesn't care. In between that all he would do is sleep and eat.
On the days when he was left all alone to recuperate he would remember a place. A city? Yes, a city with high elegant buildings. Most has tall spires topped with gleaming metal. Up in the sky there's an endless parade of flying machines. On the ground the roads were lined with flowering trees.
Sometimes he thinks his memory plays tricks on him whenever he remembers this special place. It has high ceilings where birds love to fly in the open windows. He could hear their chirp echoing in the naves. He loves that. The wide halls were constantly busy with people from all kinds of places. Sometimes he would hang around so he could count the new additions.
Then he would go to his second favorite place: it's a large room on the second floor right at the back with wall to ceiling windows. He loves the trees that change color every season, the area near the pond where students would practice and study on the grass. He makes it a point to wake up early so he could enter the room before the rest of the noisy students come in. After a few minutes his teacher would follow and they would share an enjoyable quiet time looking out the garden.
That all happened a long time ago.
That day was the last day he would see that garden…and his teacher. His teacher found him that night in his room. He got sent there early as a punishment for not concentrating on the lesson, as always.
Something fascinating appeared in the garden; they appear to be glowing, their indigo wings were flitting on the flowers and he was mesmerized. He left his classmates and went to the glass. He was almost at the balcony when his teacher called his name.
He looks up with a jolt, slowly closing his eyes with a whimper. He hasn't heard his name spoken in a long time. People were ordered not to talk to the subjects. They would come into his room without asking permission and lay him on a carrier. His heart would be beating very fast as the carrier floats him toward the source of pain.
Previously, putting him on that table would be messy and troublesome. He had tried to escape many times. He forgot how many.
There was a certain kind of excitement in escaping, a different kind of pleasure while everyone is in a panic to look for him. He should be punished for escaping but he never had. They just grab him, put him in the pram, and close the lid. When it opens he's back in his room. No one is allowed to hurt him because he would hurt anyway after they subject him on that table again.
During one of his jaunts, he was able to go very far from the other areas he had been to. He never goes back to his previous escape route. But each time he escapes and gets caught he would try to remember and map the area.
He was wandering around, wide-eyed. He has escaped, of course, and to his delight he found a small niche to hide deep in the vents. He looks around, peeking up and down and to the left and to the right. It's much too narrow. Yes! No one's arm is long enough to reach and grab him here. His breath comes in fast puffs in excitement. He wants to further discover this new place.
Yes! It's a good place!
He gasped. He swayed, suddenly feeling lightheaded. A moan came when the floor and the walls started undulating like waves. Blinking to clear his eyes he hurriedly leaned on the nearest wall.
With a terrified yelp he fell forward. The wall was gone! He was rolling and sliding down a smooth surface. The tiny light from where he came from above quickly disappeared. He tried, clawing and reaching for something to grab, to latch on to but there's nothing there. The column seemed flawless, smooth, one long continuous duct it seems. It's wider than him, there's no sides within arm's reach. There's nothing to see but the feeling of cold air on his face.
He slides. It goes on…and on….
There was a bump, it lifted him up and down but it stopped his spin. It did the trick; he is not rolling either anymore just hurtling down. He was losing the element of fear when he went off rolling again! His stomach lurched when he went airborne.
Patuuu!
His breath ended in a gasp as he slammed into something, fell on his face and he turned on his side. Vertigo hit him hard. Mouth closed tightly because he might throw up. Closing his eyes didn't stop the dizziness from flowing in his skull. Between the wooziness in his head he was dimly aware of a movement to his right.
Growling.
Breathing.
Alive.
He's not sure if the animal has noticed him yet. The creature or whatever it is has his back against him. In the pitch dark he knew it is big; he could see 'it.' It must be ten times his size, the outline of its aura in sharp contrast in the dark. He lifts his foot off of the filthy floor and…his feet made a sticky sound…!
The creature stopped, turned its head around and sniffed the air. He almost gulped but stopped it just in time and played the 'part of the wall' game. The creature stopped when he went still. He closed his eyes and took in slow calming breaths. It will be okay…it will be okay…the force and I are one…we are one…we….
Someone's heart skipped a beat and the breathing exercise stopped or forgotten as he felt a presence.
Very, very near.
Must I open my eyes? Should I?
Unfortunately, what happened next took the choice out of his hands. ..
-o-0-o-
The Boy
The training circle is small for close quarter combat. All the trainees must go through the course. So far, he passed the third trial for the juvenile division. He was number four… among the twenty boys. But the trial is not yet over. There is one more circle.
They started as soon as the sun was up, right after the morning meal. It is now half past the afternoon. The food they were given for lunch has been burned out of his system. They have not paused for water either-it's part of the trial, they were told.
Din Djarin, aged 14, swipes whatever that trickled down, must be sweat. No. "Dank Farrik!" he hissed. A rag was pushed into is hand.
"Go on, before you bleed all over us, di'kut!"
"Huh. Scared of a little blood, di'kut vod?"
"I know you are.'
"You gave me the gash."
"Just wipe it off. You're as slow as a bantha!"
"Attention!" The clan leader steps into the circle as the torches were lit now that the sun was about to set
"Quickly!" the other boy hissed.
"All ears! You four have reached the final circle. Two rounds and there will be two boys in the end. Two minutes." The covert leader nodded to the attendants and they step behind the four with blindfolds.
Din steps in the circle led by one of the commanders. He's suddenly feeling uneasy; the mystery of which his opponent was put him on edge as he was positioned in the middle of the circle. They explained to him and the twenty other boys about the trials ahead of time so that nothing would be a surprise for anyone of them-so they could focus more on the combat. He and his opponent would stand back to back. Din sighs, he hates this part of the exercise where they were either shoved in a dark room or blindfolded. It helps to hone their other abilities they were told. Still, he hates it.
There's the crunch of gravel behind him.
"Go on."
Though blindfolded he closed his eyes. He has to grudgingly admit, it helps, he thought. Hold on. Turning sharply, he leaned back as someone tried to grab him. He heard the crunch on the ground and the light gust of breeze in passing. A pained grunt came from the owner of the arm as he twists it behind. But the other one manages to escape and it was his turn to grunt as his back hit the gravel painfully. He was flipped on his stomach and a weight slammed down on his back. He struggled mightily against the heaviness and the hands that were trying to grapple at his hands.
The impasse was broken by a fistful of gravel he threw forcefully behind him. He swiftly swiveled around on his back before his opponent could get up from the ground and he lashed out with a foot. He was gratified when it connected painfully. He repeated the action more than once and frantically scrambled up before the other one could take a breath as he reversed their positions…
"Thirty seconds…!" Announced the alor'ad.
Someone tugged the blinders off. Din gasped, looking at someone behind him. His throat is dry and his face itches from the dirt that got under the blindfold. He looks down at his opponent; the owner of the arm that he's gripping and the shoulder that he's pushing down that shocked him. "But…"
"Do it!"
Din looks down at the pained eyes and pinched face looking back at him.
"This is the way!" The chorus of voices around him feels like a push.
"This is the way." He whispers. His opponent stiffened in knowing. Din twisted.
-o-0-o-
The Child
He opened his eyes just in time to duck. The back draft from that arm sent him reeling as he staggered against the wall as if he's drunk, his feet sliding on the slippery floor. He doesn't want to fall but fall to his knees was exactly what happened. They gave in to either fear or the lingering weakness.
He shouldn't have wandered off too soon. It was just barely five days after the 'session' but he felt antsy and angry.
The child wanted to escape and be free of this wretched place. The more he remembers about his past the more he's determined to liberate himself. He had a life and he wanted to go back to that life. But to be honest he didn't care for that previous life. All he wanted was to see his friends and classmates. That's what interests him more and not the repetitive rote of learning history, meditation, channeling, and force focusing nonsense. He thought all that practice was a bore. Everything was boring.
He would trade all of that to be able to get out of this misery and imminent death. His body is taking longer to improve. The recuperation period is becoming longer. He feels that 'they' might one day decide that he's not useful anymore and chooses to dispose of him. He has seen what they do, he has seen how they discard the others that were broken or beyond repair or had failed to get well. They were taken to that table and they never got up again. That must not…must never happen to him but what he had feared is here now. But it would seem he'll meet death in a different way. He looks up as a massive hand full of sharp nails decimates a part of the wall. It would pulverize him, he'll just be a smear on the dirty floor, maybe not even. By the Force, that claw alone is twice larger than any creature or being he has ever seen!
He raises a hand to shield his face from the debris flying about and 'something' deflected the dangerous projectiles safely away from him. It looked like a barrier, it glowed when the pieces of concrete hit it. What was that? He looks at his hands. Did I do that? He gasped when the 'hand' or 'claw' landed a few meters away from him. The rest of the animal cannot be easily seen behind the shadows.
He felt the attack before the animal even moved a muscle.
He raised a hand.
-o-0-o-
alor'ad – captain
al'verde - commander