He remained locked in place as the ethereal woman before him looked down at Grogu again, communicating through some kinship of mind. She laughed softly and kissed Grogu's forehead with an affection that made Din's heart ache. "So I see, my little friend," she said. "Very few words." She looked back at Din with the faint pull of a smile at the corners of her mouth. He fought a flicker in his lip, willing it not to smile back behind his helmet, grateful she couldn't see the struggle. Grateful he could appear stoic and intimidating while his insides jumped about uncomfortably under such a graceful expression. He wanted so badly to trust her. The thought was just there for some reason. He wanted the sincerity in her eyes to be more than a trick. The blue was so clear, he was nearly convinced it couldn't hide anything, but so many beautiful things turn out to be deadly because of just such an appearance of goodness.
He snapped to attention with this thought, sense coming back to him as he saw a stranger holding his son. A stranger who knew both their names. It was this thought that finally put words in his mouth. "How do you know my name?" he asked in an ominous Mandalorian tone. "How do you know his name?"
"I know a lot of things that will surprise you, Din Djarin." Another smile pulled her lips together as she watched him, and gently bounced Grogu in her arms, utterly unphased by Din's brusque questions. Grogu turned his attention from her for a moment to look back at Din. The big brown eyes promised all was well. There was a pleading undertone to these assertions that begged him to trust this woman. The boy cared for her and wanted to see her. Din sighed, kicking at the ground in a subtle burst of frustration. He looked back up at Grogu, and saw not the victory Din had expected to see in his expression, but relief. Although part of him wanted to grab Grogu out of her arms and fly as far away as he could, he gave in for the Kid's sake, and nodded in acceptance when she gestured for him to follow her into the repurposed hull. Glancing over her shoulder as she ascended the ramp just ahead of him, she spoke again. "I'll tell you what and how inside. Then perhaps, we can work out the whys." When Din hesitated to step up into the hull, she gently insisted, "The suns are close to setting, and it gets cold at night, even in the summer. Please, my friend. I'd be honored if you would come inside."
He couldn't imagine how anyone could feign the depth of her voice. Not only in tone, but in its purpose. An alto chime that promised a gentler breeze. It was enough, so he tentatively stepped into the hull.
Like any YT-2400, the ramp ended in a hallway wrapped to the left around the small turret smack in the middle of the ship. To the right, in the direction she led him, the hull opened up into what had been the cargo bay. All the interior walls had been removed here, and what would have been quarters and a lounge had become an open kitchen. The remainder created a living space that included one large bunk, some storage cubes, and a couple of chairs flanking a low table. Expansive rugs made from thick white pelts were spread under the bed and the sitting area. Two more looked to be woven from threshed blades of the same grass he'd seen in the garden plot outside. The furniture was what any freighter might be equipped with, but sumptuous fabrics and soft lighting brought a gentle ambiance to what would have otherwise been a barren capsule. Everything seemed to hold some warmth. Some beauty.
"Please have a seat." She indicated a small round table with three chairs that created a boundary between the kitchen and living area. A Dejarik table, with the tell-tale game board and holoprojector in the center. She set Grogu gently down in a cushioned chair at the table and turned to a pot of stew that sat simmering in a bed of infrared coals. "I know you prefer not to remove your helmet in company," she said as she stirred the contents of the pot. "When Grogu has been fed, I'll set a bowl of stew in the cockpit for you. I like to eat there myself sometimes, and enjoy the wilderness through the transparisteel."
Touched by the unsolicited courtesy, and enchanted by her emotive phrasing, Din humbly thanked her. "Maybe later."
Her lips twitched again into a hint of a smile. "I know you're anxious to ask your questions. Once your boy is settled, we'll talk."
"Thank you," he said again, more softly than he intended, and finally seated himself at the table to watch her serve Grogu a large bowl of stew. The two of them exchanged acknowledgements that reminded Din of how the Kid communicated with Ahsoka and Skywalker. As he always did, Din felt slightly left out, though he knew it wasn't intentional. It was just their way, and he didn't blame them. He imagined what a relief it must be to have the option to speak without words.
With this in mind, Din's voice escaped his lips before he realized he was comfortable enough to speak at all. "I wish I could communicate with him like that." He didn't know why he was so open with this strange woman who presumed to know his son as well as he did. Perhaps simply because she made the boy happy. It'd probably been years since Din had seen him in such high spirits. It was clear this woman knew and cared for Grogu, and was doing everything in her power to make him happy and comfortable. Din wanted to ask her a thousand questions, but his heart was ruling this moment. It swelled in his chest to see his boy cared for in a way that Din's was sadly lacking.
"You like to think of him as your boy, don't you?" she asked, as if she'd known his thoughts. She sat down in the last remaining chair and looked from Grogu to Din. "You like to hear people say it."
"I do." There was no use in maintaining a Mandalorian silence, since this woman already seemed to know so much. He finally gave in for the time being and relaxed into the chair, only just realizing how tired he was. Too tired to fight the warmth that embraced him. It poured liberally from the woman who sat across from him and radiated from everything in the colorful room. She watched him relax, seeming to study him even though he couldn't imagine there would be much to study in a man covered in beskar. But still, she watched him carefully for several moments before she spoke again.
"He is your son," she said softly. "You both understand that now, I think. At this point, I don't think the dear One could consider anyone but you his father, even if his own flesh and blood were to suddenly appear."
Din watched Grogu happily slurp away at his dinner, cooing between bites as he looked between Din and this beautiful woman he seemed so fond of. Din smiled under his helmet, honored by her comment and ruminating over the truth of it. The liquid glow crept into his chest for the fourth time since he'd seen this planet. It met with the warmth he'd stopped fighting and wrapped tight around him. Suddenly the only things that mattered in the universe were his son's contentment and this molten glow that wasn't going away this time. At last, he quietly answered, "As far as I'm concerned, I am his own flesh and blood."
There was a long silence while the woman watched Grogu with an affection that pulled Din's heart closer to both of them. To Grogu because he was Din's boy; and to her because she understood it. But how? How was it so easy to trust her? How did she know his thoughts? Why hadn't she used it against him? Would she? Though everything in his long experience told him she most certainly would turn all this power against him, everything in his body and heart told him she wouldn't dream of it. The only thing resulting from this contradiction of impressions was that he remained wary. But cordial. Maybe he wouldn't need to tune his blaster just yet.
"Who are you?" Despite his best efforts to remain steely and cold, he'd lost his hard bounty hunter tone to a gentler one. "Are you Jedi?"
"I was," she answered. "I had just advanced to the rank of Padawan when the Emperor executed Order 66. I managed to escape with a few others. Because I sensed the storm coming, the Archivist helped me gather everything I could from the Temple in the days leading up to it. I used the knowledge I smuggled to continue my training, but… I wouldn't call myself a Jedi."
"You were at the Jedi Temple at the same time Grogu was? Is that why he was looking for you?" Din wasn't sure why he phrased it this way, but it was certainly the truth. He had suspected for a long time that Grogu might be leading them to something particular. It seemed now that this woman was exactly that something.
"We had been very good friends when I was a child," she answered. "I thought he'd been killed after Order 66. You can't imagine how happy I was to sense him reaching out…"
"He… reached out to you?"
"He found me," she corrected. "And I sensed him through the Force. Several years ago when you took him to Tython."
"Why did Skywalker come instead of you?"
"Luke wanted to teach him and I had no way to get to him. No way to travel off world. So I told Grogu how to find me if he wanted to and simply… wished him luck with his new Master. But… great as Luke is in his way, he doesn't really understand Grogu. And Grogu could never quite understand Luke. And he missed you, Din Djarin. More than you know."
Din's heart bottomed out at the mention of those few months he barely remembered while his son was away. He'd never felt so alone before. Empty. Constantly thinking of his boy. "I… missed him too," Din said quietly, smiling sadly at the kid while he gulped down the last of his dinner. He was close to nodding off almost as soon as he'd taken a final slurp. "More than he knows."
"He knows, Din," she said, almost intimately.
Din cleared his throat, realizing he'd spoken again without first considering it. Why does this keep happening? He shook the thought from his head and suddenly realized what she implied when she spoke of Grogu's time with Skywalker. "So… you're saying… you've been… communicating with him since Tython?" Din asked.
"Yes," she answered. "That's how I know your name."
"Why…"
"He wants me to assist in his training," she answered before Din could ask. "I have my own unique skills he could learn from. A less… orthodox style than Skywalker, that might suit Grogu better." She sighed with something like relief while she watched Grogu dozing in his chair. As if she'd been expecting and looking forward to this for a long time and was happy to have arrived at it at last. "I'll do everything I can for him. If it weren't for him… I'm not sure I… not sure I would be the person I am. Not sure I could have survived the darkness. He helped me to understand more things at ten years old than most do at eighty."
A bittersweet expression overtook her fair face. So much love in it. So much pain and loss. The rash parts of him wanted to reach out. The parts that knew the expression all too well. They wanted him to take her hand or… touch her. Just… touch her…
"Grogu believes there are larger reasons at work," she continued. "I don't think he entirely understands them, but he knows it's important." She looked knowingly at Din, flashing her eyes over his visor and seeing him.
"What's important?" he asked.
"Important that he learns the things I know. Important that you're here with him while he learns them."
"That I'm here?"
She looked for a moment like she would lean over and take his hands or touch him. Reflexes made him back away, and he regretted it for reasons he didn't want to consider. But she didn't appear hurt or insulted. Just… aware. "He thinks you're the reason for all of it," she concluded quietly, looking down at her hands as if she wasn't sure what to do with them.
"All of what?"
"Everything that's happened since Tython. Why the two of you met in the first place," she answered. "He believes your purpose is greater than his." She moved again as if she would take his hands, but stopped herself this time, before Din could recoil. He frankly wasn't sure he could have. She finally clasped her hands together and continued in the same warm, quiet tone. "And he's concerned that you are… vulnerable… because of him."
Din stiffened at this statement. A wave of guilt washed over him. He'd never considered how he might contribute to his son's worry. As if the Kid didn't already have enough to concern him.
"Why should you feel guilty, Din Djarin?" she asked. "If not for you, this precious being would be dead or worse. In the hands of Imperial warlords, surrounded by evil. Instead, he's here. With you. With his father, where he belongs."
"But if I'm vulnerable, he's vulnerable. It… frightens me. That I might… I could… fail him." The words continued to tumble out of his mouth and filter through the modulator before he could filter them through his mind. It was her eyes. How he could feel and almost see them, not even looking at her. They forced these words out of him. Reached in and pulled them out to show him. Terrifying. But why did it feel… cleansing? As if he'd bathed again in the Living Waters and awakened something fathoms deep. As if this could actually be a good thing. But how could it possibly be? The last time he awakened a sleeping beast, it nearly cost him everything.
"Some beasts are… gentle…" she said quietly. Din wasn't sure she realized she'd spoken the words aloud. "He loves you very much, Din," she said more evenly. On his name, she looked up at him, ice blue gemstones peering through and beyond his viewplate, into the very flesh of his eyes. "He wants to protect you."
Greef Karga's words repeated through his mind. Maybe he'll protect you. It rang in his skull every time Grogu used his powers to keep Din out of harm's way. The same words echoed through this woman's eyes like she already knew how true they were. "He does protect me," Din admitted.
"In more ways than one."
"Many ways." Din gazed affectionately at his son, curled up in the seat of the chair, dozing comfortably. He felt her eyes on him still, and he looked across the table at her. "What's your name?"
"Aldor," she answered.
"Aldor…" The sound came out of his mouth in a whisper that tasted sweet on his tongue, and he had to pause to regather his thoughts. When he spoke again, his voice had gone unintentionally quiet. "I didn't expect to land here and find a… Jedi… who knows my son…"
"Din," she said in a half-consoling, half-halting tone. "I understand."
"But I…"
"Please, Din. You don't have to explain yourself. Grogu has told me what you've been through. Of course you want to think all of this over. It's a lot…" She trailed off. A pained expression creased her brow, and she looked down at her hands as if she were scolding herself. Din began to see a haze of images that didn't come from his own mind. These images were things as Grogu would have seen them. Their worst moments. Their best. The last five years in a jumble of static through another mind. Hers, from what Grogu had shown her. As Din struggled to process the fact that he had actually seen this, her expression fell deeper as she stared at her small hands, folded on the table. "F… Forgive me…" she said, barely above a whisper. "Maybe I shouldn't have told you… so much… right away…I… as much as you've been through…"
Din wanted to kiss her to stop her stuttering apologies. A thought out of nowhere that slammed through his brain as he considered its truth. He inhaled a ragged breath, steadying himself, willing her to rally by extension just so he wouldn't have the thought again. She seemed to sense it, and her composure gradually returned. "No. Don't… apologize," he said at last. "It is… more than I expected. When I set down here, I was only thinking about tuning my ship and breathing fresh air for a couple days. But… there's more to consider now."
Even as he spoke the words, Din questioned their wisdom. If he was in his right mind, he would already have Grogu in hand, headed back to the N1. He tried to tell himself there was nothing to consider, but when he looked at Grogu again, he had to acknowledge there was everything to consider. The boy was happy and comfortable with this woman. He had led them to her purposefully with a goal in mind. Maybe Din had become too indulgent, but that didn't matter while his son was content and safe. It had been a long time, and he didn't have the heart to deny Grogu this opportunity. At least for a day or two.
"You should eat something," she said after a long silence. "Please. Let me set you a bowl of stew in the next room. Considerations come more clearly on a full belly and restful sleep."
"Thank you, but I don't think…"
"Din, you can't sleep in your ship. I won't allow it. Find a place that looks comfortable to you and I'll bring you some pelts and… anything you need. You are my guest – a rare thing. Please… do me this honor."
She was earnest and almost pleading. He couldn't help but feel her sincerity. Din looked away from her to steady his heart. Her words and tone in the context of her beautiful face were almost too much. When he was confident he could look at her evenly, he lifted his eyes again. A spark of a feeling he couldn't place shot out at him from the depths of the profoundly blue eyes. Something familiar and exciting that practically called to him. Something he wanted to see more closely. He shut his eyes against it again, forcing himself to reset. A trick. He should assume everything is a trick. But as many times as he told himself this, something about her made him want to trust her. And for now, in light of Grogu's affection for her, he gave in to it. A nod was all he could manage in agreement. Quick and stiff.
"Then please, look around…" She pointed out the fresher and the spare tube of a room that used to be the cockpit and primary escape pod. The workshop down the hall that she could straighten up for him. Or even the engine room. She said several times she could get a spare bunk out of storage if he wanted. "It would be no trouble, my Friend." She wanted him to be comfortable. Wanted to make him feel like the most important sentient in the universe. And it worked. Try as he might to resist, it worked.
Once she'd shown him all the rooms and corners that could make a comfortable bed, none of them was more appealing than the acute corner tucked between the tunnel to the docking bay and the wall of the main living space. He felt like he needed the open space. Though the rooms would have offered more privacy, they felt claustrophobic. He'd spent the last year sleeping through hyperspace in a cramped starfighter cockpit, so when presented with so much floor space, he couldn't deny himself. He certainly couldn't deny his aching back and knotted shoulders. Sleeping spread eagle over the floor fully armored sounded like the pinnacle of comfort right now.
"I'll get some pelts for you while you eat…"
Before he could protest, Aldor was already spooning stew into a large bowl and urging him to take it into the cockpit, beyond being refused. So Din acquiesced, and sat at the small, benched table in the narrow room, staring at the closed door and wondering how he got here.
He was tired. Too weary to think anymore. He looked down into the bowl in front of him. Hunks of meat and cubed tubers in a rich, dark broth that looked delicious. It had been at least a day or two since he'd eaten anything substantial. Probably more than a year since he'd had anything resembling a proper meal. So he gave in to comfort and care, and took his helmet off, inhaling deep as the air touched his bare cheeks. The fragrance of the stew flooded his nostrils, and he was suddenly ravenous. The first bite was so good, he could have cried. Tender meat with a rich, deep flavor. Savory and substantial. He had to pause to let it sink in. It was almost too much after decades of rations and broth. For a few moments, he fancied himself in his parents' kitchen, listening to his mother's voice as she sang and talked to herself, pausing when she passed by to smile or ask how he liked his meal…
Din heaved a deep breath, slowly taking another bite, loving it just as much as the first, and shaking his head while the awakened memory faded. He wasn't sure why he was frustrated with himself anymore. Either because he allowed himself to be comfortable, or because he wouldn't allow himself to trust anything that felt this good. A little of both, maybe. It was an exhausting battle. Instinct and experience, heart and mind. Always at odds. He knew Grogu trusted her, and Din absolutely trusted his son. He just couldn't put them together. Not yet. He needed to stop thinking. To finish eating. To sleep.
When Din emerged from the cockpit fully armored again, she was at work at the table, patching an article of clothing. Grogu was back in his pod, sleeping soundly between Aldor's bunk and Din's chosen corner. A pile of white, iridescent pelts and sundry textiles sat there now, ready at his disposal. She wordlessly indicated the sink behind her just before Din asked what he should do with the bowl in his hand. Not even surprised anymore that she had read his mind, he stood over the sink for a moment, and made the quick decision to take off his gloves and clean the dish. It was the least he could do. He was doubly grateful that she didn't watch him, as others typically did when he moved to take off any piece of armor. As if they had to know what his skin looked like. He placed the bowl beside those she'd already set to dry on a thick cloth on the counter. "Thank you," he said, returning his gloves and gauntlets to his hands before he moved to stand across the table from her. "For… putting him to bed… and your kindness."
"You're most welcome," she said, that little smile back in place across her plump lips. "I've… put some linens there in the corner for you. "I know you must be tired. I'll only have the light on a few minutes longer."
"Thank you," he said again and excused himself to the fresher. He resisted the shower stall for the time being. He was afraid a real shower in this state of mind would convince him too quickly to stay, so he settled on a quick UV cleanse and a splash of water over his face before he suited up again. He went directly to the acute corner from the fresher, forcing himself not to glance at her as he spread one of the luxurious pelts over the floor, pleased to find it was more than big enough to accommodate him and thick enough to soften the floor adequately for a man sleeping in full armor. Almost as soon as he'd settled into it, the light over the table went off, and soft shuffles indicated quick movements to the fresher, and back into the room. Then a small commotion around the bed, then silence. Perfect. Blissful. Still.
Din turned to his side, and chancing to open his eyes, saw her settling in her bunk, facing into the room. Her head was bowed against the pillow in a position that offered him a perfect view of the pale face in repose, and he couldn't stop himself from taking a long, slow look. As he ran his eyes thoughtfully over the fine features of her face and the delicious slopes and rises of her small body, he tried to find that familiar something he'd sensed before when they were at the table. It continued to call even while she fell into a shallow slumber. It was deep and intimate and had no words. Whatever it was, it existed only as energy… some force of the universe. Something hauntingly familiar. It felt like a memory of some important or meaningful thing he'd lost so long ago, he barely remembered it. He wanted to find it. Remember what it was. He wondered if he could find it on her lips. Maybe in how she tasted. Or how the delicate flesh would feel pressed against his. How the flow of her hair would feel around his fingers. Perhaps it was in the sound of her breath as it sighed through her lips. Maybe he could find it with his fingertips if he just brushed them along the sweet slopes and rises.
No!
Sharp barbs bit into his brain, bringing him out of the fantasy as he squeezed his eyes shut. This is not something he should want. Din reminded himself they were here for a layover. The only decision he had to make was how long it would be. The more he thought about it the more he decided it should be a short one. It could all still be a trap. Wouldn't be the first he'd fallen into. Even if she was as sincere as he wanted her to be, he didn't know if this woman was advanced enough to teach Grogu. He'd question her tomorrow. Maybe get a demonstration. If he wasn't convinced they'd be on their way…
In the middle of this thought, Din's eyes slid to Grogu's pod. But his son did like her. No… his son adored her. There was no doubt of their kinship. And when he further considered what he'd seen of her ability, he couldn't deny that either. He sensed it in the way she communicated with Grogu. In her ability to loosen Din's tongue enough to coax words from it. In her ability to just survive on an isolated world by herself for so many years. Not only survive, but to thrive here from what he could tell. If nothing else it showed a resourcefulness Grogu could learn from.
In light of all this, perhaps he could forgive her for being beautiful.
All through the night, Aldor sensed the Mandalorian's eyes on her. Fragments of thoughts whipped out of him from his corner in the darkness like his dreams and visions were reaching for her. She could make no sense of them yet, but there were reasons for them. It was brewing and building inside the beskar, and tried desperately to get out the moment it sensed it was near its own kind. He couldn't help himself. At the table, when she worried she'd revealed too much too fast, the reassuring wave of warmth that calmed her concerns was surprisingly well controlled and infinitely effective. She could still feel it in sparks over her skin. Like his gaze across the room had excited some whisper of himself that he'd left behind. She sensed he consciously willed it, but the fact that it worked unnerved him. At the very least, he was aware.
There was no doubt he was powerful in the Force, but he was far from ready to acknowledge it. He was a Mandalorian after all, and would not have been raised with a high opinion of Jedi. Still, he'd taken one in and learned from it. He had begun to understand Grogu's power, and Aldor was sure he could almost recognize his own. But something blocked him. Something buried so deep, he forgot it was there until Grogu reminded him. It had remained a pebble in his mind since. Not enough to cause particular pain, but enough to become a nuisance. Aldor sensed the pebble had grown sharper, and lately graduated into an irritation.
She only hoped they would stay long enough for her to help him through his awakening. Without guidance, it would drive the Mandalorian mad. Through all Grogu had shown her of their journey here, she felt a constant barrage of opposing forces at war inside the beskar that would make it that much more difficult to work the irritating pebble loose. He practically vibrated with it. Like the tremors that travelled hundreds of klicks from the center of the continent, the elements at work within him fought each other brutally. Like those at the pupil of the Eye, however, Aldor sensed they were capable of understanding each other. Given a little time to work out their differences, maybe the warring elements would learn to work together. A new environment might be all he needed.
Whether they would come to a truce or not, the battle between elements had fashioned rather a singular Mandalorian. An oddity in a galaxy full of similar minds. Most only know what they've been told, but sentients like Din Djarin would never be satisfied until they could understand what they were told. Never convinced until he could prove or disprove it for himself. Coupled with the pain she sensed and a spark of fire that wouldn't die, his drive to find out for himself had produced an understanding from every point of view.
He was a Mandalorian driven by empathy. Aldor had never heard of such a thing. But she conceded that, like Din's Mandalorian masters and their tales of Jedi sorcery, the Jedi spoke of Mandalorians through unpleasant memories of the war between their sects. Aldor was all too aware that everything she knew of his Creed was colored in a defamatory hue. For all she knew, there were more like him. Or maybe he was an anomaly. Whatever the case may be, Aldor was sure this Mandalorian was much more than he seemed. More than a weapon. More than a deprogrammed zealot. Beaten down and exhausted, but determined to remain standing. He only needed time to heal.
She understood very well now why Grogu thought Din was significant. At first Aldor thought her friend was likely biased in his assertions that the Mandalorian was particularly powerful, but now she could see this man he'd adopted was everything the boy felt him to be. That was why she needed to help them through this turbulent moment in a turbulent sea of space. She knew what it was like to be tossed about in it, and Grogu was sure his father could learn from her.
The dear One worried terribly for the battered old bounty hunter and his unfocused power, and Aldor understood why as she stole glances of him, spread out across the pelts in full armor. His jangled energy was doing him no favors. A mess of emotions and memories were tangled up in the unspent power, and festered in a deep wound from the recent past that he hadn't overcome. He was utterly broken and weary from it, and the only thing holding him together now was Grogu. His boy was the one little spark that kept the light on inside him. Or at least reminded him it was there. Aldor didn't think the light had ever truly left him. If it had, he never would have considered taking Grogu back from his Imperial captors, knowing what it would cost him. Yet here they both were, bound by the light they shared.
This and a thousand other things convinced her that Grogu had chosen his guardian wisely. Their bond made both of them stronger. She sensed it from the moment she set eyes on them. It was a tie so sturdy, nothing could break it. Through experience or history or spirit, they were as much a part of each other as any blood relation. Just to be in their presence was to feel its effects.
In the glow of these effects, Aldor sighed deeply and tried to settle in to sleep, but Din was distracting her. He couldn't help it of course and had no idea he was doing it, so rather than lie in an irritation of elusive sleep, Aldor focused on the distraction. She still couldn't make sense of the sparks of dreams that continued to arc out at her from the Mandalorian's restless mind. Whatever they were made of, his body reacted with a rumble that spread through the floor from an epicenter buried deep underneath the beskar cuirass. She wasn't sure if it was anxiety or just… power. Both maybe. When she couldn't make sense of the fragments and tremors, Aldor simply let them wash over her, and after a while, she found it strangely soothing. Just as the tremors dissipated and the barrage of sparks dwindled into nothing, Aldor finally drifted to sleep.
In the morning, she opened her eyes to a limp pile of beskar in the corner, curled around a little green bundle. Grogu snoozed peacefully against the hard metal that covered the Mandalorian's chest. The rumble had settled into a purr that kept the boy perfectly content against his unyielding pillow. He was held warmly against it with a big, gloved hand that gently cradled the back of the child's head, practically encasing it in a protective shield. The image was instantly stamped in Aldor's memory. So perfect an example of the contradictions in play within this austere Mandalorian. So perfect an image of the Spirit she felt when she looked at him. She couldn't tear her eyes away, and feared she'd stared too long when Grogu began to stir.
She was too distracted to close her eyes again, and felt the need for movement. So she got up and quietly put the water on to boil for her morning tea, before tugging on her coat and boots to go outside in search of breakfast, intent on taking care of those under her roof as well as she could. All the while, she begged the Force to let her keep them for at least a week or two.
