Chapter 3:
7930.6.6
Their little Obi-Wan was a kriffing menace. He was loved in spite of that… and sometimes because of that, but it didn't make it any less true. Apparently a lot of his actions and reactions that made him seem like a feral tooka was all the norm for Mandalorians. In fact, it was all too clear that Jaster was encouraging most of the behaviors, and Jango took part in teaching Obi-Wan many of those feral behaviors. The older he got the more apparent it became. Because even if the little shit could act all cute and polite, it didn't mean he was innocent. The kid had everyone fooled, at least almost everyone, everyone except the guard, who saw him for exactly who he was.
He was gentle and sweet in the creche. He was polite and attentive in lessons. He was bitey and aggressive in the guard quarters. The little menace seemed to come out of the shadows, sometimes even dropping down on a guard. Half of the guard were on edge waiting for the little one to make them his new chew toy, the other half were making bets of the kriffing game the shit was playing. Cin felt terrible he had to try to put a stop to it, after all he was earning so many credits from the betting pool that the others were starting to think he was setting the little biter on them, but he had to do something.
Jaster had come and had to sit down with his child and explain that, no, he couldn't just bite people. Biting was mean and he had to be careful who he bit because it hurt. He should only bite someone if he was in real life threatening danger. Jango, his feral older brother was the little shit who not so helpfully added that it was fine to bite someone if they were being creepy or were demagolka.
Which then led the youngling to parroting that wonderful phrase with innocence written on his face and glee in his eyes.
The… pouncing, was addressed next. Jaster had sat his child down on a plush sofa, and wrestled his eldest in the spot next to the youngling. He then sat down in front of the two of them, face solom, air heavy with the weight of what he was about to tell them.
"What are the tennents?" He asked them.
"Ba'jur bal beskar'gam. Ara'nov, aliit, Mando'a bal Mand'alor- An vencuyan mhi." Obi-Wan sang softly, Jango nodding approvingly next to him.
"Elek. Ori'jate. Are you practicing self defense, Ben'ika?" He asked. Obi-Wan's cheeks puffed out and eyes dropped to his lap.
"Jan'ika, ara'nov?
"All mando'ade have a right to practice, teach, and act in self-defense. This does not condone mindless violence. Mando'ade must be focused on those who would attack them, not those who could have been allies." Jango said softly, as if he had read it from a text and been forced to commit it to memory.
"We do not attack allies mindlessly, Ben'ika. We do not seek active harm to the community we are a part of."
"Elek Buir."
"If someone kept popping up and hitting you how would you feel?"
"Angry… scared."
"Are you not doing that to the aran'e? Hmm? You are much smaller than they are, and they are working hard to honor their people here. They work to better their clan, and protect them, but you keep appearing, hurting them, and distracting them from their bora." Jaster said gently. He tilted his head, eyes searching for his child's. Eventually his gray eyes welled with tears and he nodded.
"What are we without honor, ad'ika?"
"Naasaade."
"Honor is life, Ben'ika. Without it we would be nothing. I know you want to play, but you must still act with honor."
"Elek, Buir."
"Jan'ika?"
"'Lek Buir."
"Jate."
Jaster leaned forward and pressed his forehead first to Jango, who sighed and murmered something softly to his father. Then when he shifted to press his forehead to Obi-Wan, the youngling eagerly rushed forward, his head cracking against his father who winced.
"Pel, Ben'ika. Mirshmure'cya, not kov'nynir."
"Sowwy, Buir." Obi-Wan said and gently pressed his forehead to his father.
"Now, go apologize to the aran'e and aran'alor." He ordered and Ben stood up. The little tooka went up to each nearby guard, head bowed and gave a very sincere,
"Sowwy I bited you and… and pounced you."
Some of the guards knelt down and accepted his apology with a hug or a ruffle of his soft fluffy hair, others simply bowed back in returned and thanked him for his apology. Then he went up to Cin, and tugged softly on his tabard while staring at his boots. Cin sighed and knelt down to be level with the child.
"Yes, Obi-Wan?"
"I'm sowwy I make trouble."
"Thank you." he paused and looked at him assessing. "How about we find a more productive way for you to play with the aran'e?"
Obi-Wan's head snapped up and his red-rimmed eyes brightened. His presence in the force went all bubbly with excitement and eagerness.
Then it all shifted.
If he was asked, he wouldn't be able to tell how he knew it, if it was a twitch on Obi-Wan's face or if the force blared a warning, but he caught the child just before he dropped. The force went tight and heavy as every voice in the common space went silent and worry permeated the air. He shifted to sit on the ground, Obi-Wan cradled in his arms. He opened his mouth, about to call for Feemor when he came sliding up to them. Before he could say anything he felt Feemor's shields stretch out and encompass the child, helping him sure up his own natural shielding. Cin, in turn held firm on their bond in the force, keeping his nephew in the 'here and now'.
It could have taken minutes, or hours, but eventually Obi-Wan's eyes cracked open and he started crying hard. He rolled in Cin's arms crying out for his father. Cin and Feemor shifted, as Jaster swooped in, scooping his now sobbing son into his arms. He sobbed in their native language, words too jumbled for him to try to understand. Jaster's brows knitted in concern as he held his son closely to him, whispering words of comfort and assurance. They shared a look over the youngling's head and Cin mouthed "vision" which made the man frown deepened but he pressed his face to the soft fluff of Obi-Wan red hair.
Cin flashed a hand sign to the lingering guards, telling them to go back to their business.
Hours later Cin got a private message from Feemor with a holo attached.
The Mand'alor was sprawled out on one of the plush couches fast asleep. One arm was wrapped around Jango, holding him close. Jango was squished between his father and the back of the couch on his side, face buried in his father's shoulder, and one hand holding his little brother's. Said little brother was sprawled on his father's chest, his little face pressed into the space between his chin and collarbone. All three were dead to the world and entirely peaceful, though by the dark stains on Jaster's tunic spoke of many, many tears.
Cin saved the holo and sent it to a shared file, a small smile on his face.
7930.18.10
Ben was very good at sneaking. He loved sneaking. He had to sneak a lot to play with the aran'e. When the aran'e were wearing their masks they didn't play or speak, but that was okay. Master Drallig said he wasn't supposed to be able to tell them apart, but that was stupid. They were themselves, not droids, no matter what Bruck said. But he was good, and never called the aran'e by name when they wore the masks.
Aran kakovidir was his favorite to play with when he was on duty. Mostly because he knew he wanted to kakovidir. Any aran nearby would feel like they were trying not to laugh, which made it more fun.
Master Drallig would always come and ruin the fun though. Which was mean because he wasn't even allowed to bite anymore. So instead of biting, Master Drallig gave him another option. And it was so much more fun.
So Ben was sneaking, his pocket filled with little red magnets that would stick to the aran'e's armor. If he could stick one on one of the Aran without them noticing, he'd get a point. AND, whoever came back with a magnate stuck would have to give Ben a jedi jelly.
That was why Ben was sneaking now. Aran Trikar'la was posted in the little hallway by the gardens. Aran Kakovidir was his favorite to play with but Aran Trikar'la was his favorite to be with. He was calm and quiet. It was safe with Aran Trikar'la, even if he was trikar'la. BUT, at the moment it he wasn't his favorite he was his lenedat.
Ben sneaked into the hall, staying close to the wall and the shadows. He was getting closer and closer. He felt butterflies in his belly as he neared. His hand grasped the magnet he was going to stick on trikar'la.
Then the force moved and his feet left the ground. Ben gave a small shout of surprise as he was lifted and deposited right in front of the aran, whose mask tipped down to stare at him. His fingers twitched in a familiar way and Ben pouted.
Caught.
The mask tileted and Ben sighed and plopped down on the Aran's feet arms crossed. He heard Aran Trikar'la tap his kom'rk and pouted more.
Busted.
Then he remembered. He stood up and dug into the folds of his uniform and pulled out a flimsy.
"Aran, aran, lookie!" He held it up to show it.
He was very proud. This was the real reason he was hunting aran trikar'la. They were having an art day in the creche and he made a picture of him sitting on aran trikar'la's feet at a door. Aran trikar'la always let him sit on his feet.
A long time ago he fell asleep on aran trikar'la's feet in the archive and then bit a master when aran trikar'la got all stiff and nervous. The aran took it and nodded, placing a hand on his head. The flimsy was tucked into his belt and Ben happily sat back down on his feet. He pulled out his data pad and tried to work on his letters.
After several long minutes Ben froze. He felt buir and ori'vod. When they left last time ori'vod was going to start his verd'goten. He hopped up and tugged on aran trikar'la's hand.
"Aran! Aran! Buir olar!"
His mask tilted and a short nod came. His hand tapped his kom'rk. Ben bounced impatiently on his feet. He had to wait, but he was so excited. Buir wasn't close yet. Probably still in the air high up, but they were getting closer.
Finally Aran Russ arrived.
Ben then took to tugging Aran Trikar'la by the hand, to the aran'e'yaim. Aran Trikar'la held his hand to indicate for Ben to wait at the door. So he did, bouncing on his feet. Buir and Ori'vod were closer now, probably at the town. It took ages but Trikar'la, Feemor came out, and scooped him up into his arms.
"Su'cuy, Ob'ika." He greeted, pressing a mirshmurc'cya with a grin.
"Su'cuy, Fee. Now Buir?"
"Yes, yes, lets go see your buir now." Feemor laughed and threw Ben's cloak over his head. "How is the creche? Your friends?" Feemor asked and Ben took the offer and started talking. Feemor nodded and made noises of shock or agreement. All the things he couldn't do while on duty. When they slipped out of the temple Ben waved at Aran piryc, and told Fee who it was on duty there. When Fee asked how he knew he went into all the detail, but Fee still seemed confused and surprised, which was dumb. He wore a mask so he should know too.
They played the name game when the were on the public transport. Fee tried to say that using mando'a was cheating, but that was dumb too. But Fee was still only just learning, so Ben would help him learn words too.
Fee was mean and wouldn't put Ben down when they entered Keldab'ika, leaving Ben to eagerly kick his feet. Buir was super close now. Some of the adults around waved at him but he couldn't pay any attention to them, Buir was almost there.
"Down! Down! Down! Down!" Ben chanted, and Fee finally put him down. Ben took off, his feet pounding on the ground until he threw himself forward.
He crashed against hard beskar'gam with a huge smile.
"Buir!" Strong arms lifted him up and gave a small toss in the air.
"Oh my boy!"
"No buy'ce" Ben pouted, slamming his hands on the bucket over buir's head.
"Ohhh, lek, lek. Give me a moment, Ben'ika" Buir said, using one hand to tug off the bucket. Finally he got it off and Ben smashed his face against his Buir's in a mirshmurc'cya. Buire felt warm in the force, calm and steady. It felt like yaim. Everything was right again. Then Ben perked up.
"Vaii ori'vod?" Ben asked, peering around, searching for his brother. His eyes found a mass of young mando'ad all wearing buy'ce. "Ori'vod! Kandosii!"
"Vod'ika!" his ori'vod shouted, and freed himself from the mass of people congratulating him. Ben wiggled in his buir's arms only to be deposited in Jango's.
"Woah! Mandos!" A new voice called, and Ben whipped around in Jango's arms. It was Quinlan.
"Quin?" Ben asked, blinking at the older boy who was new to the creche.
"Padawan, how did you get out?" Feemor asked, voice still and hard.
"Oh, I followed you and Obes. How do you know so many Mandos?"
"This is my family." Ben said quietly, looking between Buir and Fee.
"Cool! I'm Quin, Obe's best friend."
"Your best friend?" Jango asked, head tilted. Ben smiled, maybe it would be okay if one other person knew.
Mando'a:
Demagolka: someone who commits atrocties, a real-life monster, a war criminal - from the notorious Mandalorian scientist of the Old Republic, Demagol, known for his experiments on children, and a figure of hate and dread in the Mando psyche
Ba'jur bal beskar'gam. Ara'nov, aliit, Mando'a bal Mand'alor- An vencuyan mhi.: Education and armor, Self-defense, our tribe, Our language and our leader—All help us survive.
Elek: yes
Buir: parent/mom/dad
Ori'jate: very good
Ara'nov: Self defense
Bora: job
Ad'ika: little one/ son/ daughter
Aran'e: guards
Naasade: nobody
Pel: soft
Mirshmurc'cya: keldabe kiss
Kov'nynir: headbutt (In this context kov'nynir can cause injury, mirshmucr'cya is affectionate.)
Aran'alor: guard chief (speaking of Cin Drallig's role of head of the temple guards)
Aran: guard
Kakovidir: Cower
Trikar'la: Sad
Lenedat: Target, contact
Kom'rk: gauntlet/vambrace
Ori'vod: big brother
Olar: here
Ruus: rock
Aran'e'yaim: guards home
Yaim: home
Piryc: wet
Buy'ce: helmet
Vaii: where
Kandosii: Nice one! Wicked! Well done!