Chapter Text
Bo-Katan stood by the - admittedly very dark - remains of the Living Waters. Din wanted to listen to her, and her words rang true and old and learned like her bloodline.
It wasn’t her voice he was hearing, though, but the Armorer’s, as she spoke.
“Here you go: the Living Waters. Hold on, I want you to get the full tour.”
He stared at the reflecting surface, wondering how many before him had performed this pilgrimage. How long it had been since any of their kind had touched the surface of the waters. It called to him, a song from deep beneath the ripples.
“These mines date back to the age of the first Mandalore. According to ancient folklore, the mines were once a Mythosaur lair. Mandalore the Great is said to have tamed the mythical beast. It is from these legends that the skull signet was adopted and became the symbol of our planet.”
He knew this. He knew all the old stories. He may not have been born into their bloodlines, but he was Mandalorian in all the ways that counted.
“This is it. Din? Are you all right?”
Grogu cooed something, and it sounded right to hear his voice. Din lifted his helm and repeated the words of the Creed.
“I swear on my name, and the names of the Ancestors, that I shall walk the way of the Mand’alor… and the words of the Creed shall be forever forged in my heart.”
He took a step into the welcoming, cool embrace. Another. He could feel his failures cleansing, feel the planet opening up to him.
Rushing up to him. Pulling him deeper, into the Creed, into the Way.
He didn’t hear the shouts, or the splashes as Bo-Katan jumped in after him. He couldn’t hear much of anything but Grogu, who he shouldn’t be able to hear, but the kid had a way of getting into his head. It sounded less calm, now, and he tried to turn towards the ‘voice’, aware that the water was starting to glow a vibrant blue.
***
“WHY IS THERE A ROBOT IN THE BATHTUB?!”
Steven blinked. “Uh…what?”
Things hadn’t been what anyone would call perfect since his life has been upended. But a definite improvement from his lonely existence just a few short months ago. Meeting Marc and Layla and defeating a cult and stopping Harrow and Ammit and getting Khonshu out of their lives had been a whirlwind; after the dust had settled the three of them had been left to try and pick up the pieces.
That had meant Marc and Layla trying to repair the damage to their marriage, the Alters getting to know one another, and he and Layla working out their feelings. It was messy and complicated and Steven wouldn’t have traded the two of them for anything.
Layla had started hanging around London more, and they were even talking about moving in together. She’d been staying over more often, and he and Marc had been trying to keep the place neater. Well, Marc had. It was already clean (no more need for sand around the bed), just…disorganised. But as disorganised as it was, Steven was damn sure they didn’t have a robot anywhere.
He went to the washroom door, leaping out of the way as Layla flung it open. “What--”
“What the hell is that?!” She gestured to the tub.
Steven peered around her, and his jaw dropped. “No way.”
Inside the tub was one averagely-tall probably-human, covered head to toe in metal and (also probably) leather armour. Literally head to toe, because not even his face was visible, obscured by a face-plate that cut through the slightly worse-for-wear helmet.
The bath wasn’t full, but water dripped from the legs sprawled over the edges. The man was out cold, but what was atop him wasn’t.
What was atop him was a small figure, no bigger than a young human baby. A green one. With ears that went on for miles, and eyes that sucked your soul in, but only because they were ridiculously cute. The baby gurgled in a proto-speech, stubby fingers reaching up from damp, brown sleeves.
Marc shoved Steven abruptly to one side, forgetting decorum. “Why is there a Boba Fett and a baby Yoda in my FLAT?”
‘You’ve got us! Layla was going to wash up and I heard her scream, and--’
“Boba Fett? Like from Star Wars?” Layla looked to her husband and back to the pair in the tub. “Look, I don’t know why they’re here. One second I was about to get into the tub, then both of them were in there. Is…is that little thing a puppet? Er…Muppet?”
‘Looks like a Muppet.’ Steven agreed.
Grogu neither agreed nor disagreed, but called again for their attention. His dad was unconscious and he wanted help. These tall ones felt safe, if loud, and if he needed to, he'd throw some softer things at their heads.
"It looks real to me," Marc answered, shakily. "I'm not even sure how we'd talk to them, I mean, if it really was them. They speak Galactic Basic…"
It looked real. And Layla could see it. Them. Whatever. "We should… see if the Mandalorian is okay. Whatever brought them here did a number on them."
He didn't want to touch the small, green… thing. Alien. Puppet. Whatever. It looked too real and potentially both fragile and bitey.
“Galactic…Basic?” Layla peered at the possible Muppet, which was making distressed noises. “Wait, what’s a Mandalorian? Marc, are we sure this isn’t some wizard cosplaying Boba Fett or something, and he accidentally teleported in here? With a…Baby Yoda familiar?”
Even as she said it, it sounded hollow.
‘Baby Yoda…isn’t Disney doing something with a Baby Yoda?’ Steven piped up. ‘I know a lot of movies got pushed back with the bloody Blip and all, but there was something, right?’
Grogu decided to take matters into his own hands. All these bigs! Not one helping! He leapt from the tub, landing on the flat, white lid of something he didn't understand, and made another noise of protest.
"Let's get the guy to the… couch? At least? And dry him off. We don't even know he's alive, and Yoda-Gizmo looks ready to bite our ankles if we don't." Marc was trying his best not to let his voice shake, but the little thing did just… impersonate Kermit in a sword fight. And puppets didn't really do that in reality. Not that he'd seen.
“Okay, yeah.” Layla nodded. “That…looks kinda heavy. And he’s soaked. I’m gonna…You guys keep an eye on the little guy, alright?”
She summoned her armour, hoping it wouldn’t send the tiny green creature into a fit. But if that armour was half as heavy as it looked they’d have hell of a time dragging the hopefully-just-unconsious being into the living room.
A little Avatar strength would be nice if the Boba Fett looking guy tried to fight back.
‘Should we try and pick up the little Yoda thing?’ Steven asked as Layla went to the tub.
Marc tried to ignore the tiny pang of discomfort that Layla being the muscle stirred in him. She had Taweret to help her, and Taweret seemed much more amenable as a deity to 'serve' than Khonshu had been. It wasn't that he was sexist, it was that he felt he should be the one doing the hard work. He'd probably feel the same if it was Frenchie, not Layla, and… oh, shit. Steven asked him a question, didn't he?
Before he could answer, the small green being had somersaulted out of the bathroom and was toddling after Layla.
"...guess we keep up, buddy. Uh, you were saying something about this before?"
‘I swear, Disney is doing some sort of show or movie with a baby Yoda. I’ve seen kids with plush dolls that look just like that thing in the museum,’ Steven said as they followed Layla to the couch. She’d hefted the armoured being in a bridal carry, which did not detract from the overall absurdity.
“He weighs a ton.” She panted a little, easing him onto the couch, which groaned alarmingly. “I don’t know what this stuff is, but it’s battle ready. We better get it off him and see if he’s alright.”
She reached under the lip of the helmet, trying to find a catch or a release. “Maybe there’s a locking mechanism--”
Layla’s hand went flying back, pushed by an invisible wave of power. Grogu made a disgruntled babbling noise, jumping up onto the end of the couch near the man’s head.
“Guess that’s a no. Steven thinks - uh - he’s seen the… alien before. So we looking at some weird magic that brings fiction to life?” Marc asked.
“What the--”
The armoured man suddenly sat bolt upright, and lifted an arm to aim something wrist-based at the woman in front of him.
“Grogu? Bo?” he looked rapidly from side to side, and then grabbing the small green being who cooed happily when he did.
‘Well, half of that sounded like English.’ Steven pushed for control. They needed calm and to not get Layla shot, Avatar or no. “Hey, it’s alright. You and the little guy are safe, okay?”
Layla kept still, one hand hovering in mid-air. “I wasn’t trying to steal your mask. We weren’t sure if you were breathing. Clearly, you are.”
“Where am I?” the man asked, sliding as gracefully as he could to his feet. He had Grogu under one arm, who seemed quite content to be held like that. “I was on Mandalor…”
‘That’s the homeworld of the Mandalorians,’ Marc explained, even though it was self-explanatory. ‘Ask him his name!’
“You’re on Earth. Or, er, Terra? Don’t suppose that sounds familiar…” Why the hell would it, all of this man’s life had happened a long time ago in a galaxy far, far away. “I’m Steven Grant, this is Layla El-Faouly. And you two are?”
“Din. Grogu.” The slightest of gestures indicated who each name applied to. It still felt weird to use his actual name, people had called him by his place in the galaxy for so many years. “I haven’t heard of this place before - are we in the Outer Rim?”
‘That’s what they call the planets furthest out from the galactic central point,’ Marc mostly mused to himself. But he couldn’t help himself from pushing past Steven. “Are you speaking Basic right now?”
Din’s head snapped around. “Why did you change your voice?”
“...no reason.”
Layla slowly put her hands down. “M-My husband is a little confused how you suddenly teleported into our bathroom. I’m guessing you are too. But we’re…not exactly strangers to weird stuff. So let’s all just take a breath and try and figure out what happened. Okay?”
‘Better not try and explain the finer points of modern psychology to a fictional character,’ Steven murmured. ‘Guess I’ll hang back. And since when do you know all about Star Wars?’
‘Since we had a VHS player, Steven. I didn’t just watch… you know…’ Marc trailed off mentally, not wanting to compound any issues. The last thing he needed was his own… self? Other-self? Getting self-conscious or jealous of his other media outlets as a kid.
“Where’s the nearest spaceport?” Din asked. “We need to get back to Mandalore. I take it you didn’t see a woman like me?”
“Just you, and… we don’t have spaceports,” Marc replied, regretfully. Also, how did you ask this nicely? There was a small, Yoda-like being who could bounce about, and then on the man’s hip was a hilt that looked like - “Holy shit, are you Jedi?”
“You know any Jedi?” Din put Grogu onto the (slightly damp) couch. “We’ll take transport to the nearest port, if you can point us to it.”
“Uh, we don’t…we’re kinda behind the times, in terms of space travel.” Layla looked to Marc, desperate. How the hell could they even begin to explain how they knew what they knew (or what Marc knew, which was a lot more than her and Steven)? Telling Din he was a fictional character that had somehow sprung to life was not an option. “We don’t know any Jedi, but I do know some mystical beings. We might need something closer to The Force than Hyperspace to get you out of here.”
‘You don’t think this is some sort of delayed vengeance from the bird for leaving, do you? I mean…The moon, space travel…pretty tenuous link, but still.’
“You got anything about… moon… stuff?” Marc asked. Straight up asking if they knew about Khonshu seemed a bit too risky. He was likely Bloody Mary in that respect: say his name three times and get cursed with squawking tantrums in your head for the rest of your life.
“There’s a lot of moons, Steven Grant,” Din answered him, using the only name he knew. “You mean Concordia?”
“Where they banished people?”
“You seem to know a lot about Mandalore. Have you strayed from the Creed?”
“...uh, no. Books…” Now he looked like an actual nerd. This was normally Steven’s thing, and Marc’s face flushed.
Grogu made a slightly grumpy noise, long ears pulling down to his head. He waved a three-fingered hand towards the fish tank nearby.
“The kid’s hungry. Anywhere I can buy him some broth?”
‘Oh God, if he goes out like that he’s going to draw a crowd. It’s not even Comic-Con!’
“We’ve got broth,” Layla assured the man. “And if you’re hungry we’ve got things. Bread, fruit, meat…I don’t know what your people eat, but we’ve got a wide variety. Fate or The Force or whatever dumped you here for a reason. Let us try and help.”
‘If he won’t take his helmet off, there are some straws in the cupboard.’ Steven thought back to the movies; he’d never seen Boba Fett without his helmet, and Din didn’t seem inclined to remove his anytime soon. ‘Wonder how he manages with that getup all the time.’
“Uh, St-- straws are… we have some, if you’re… stuck in the… thing.” Marc was beginning to feel a bit weird. They were talking to a Mandalorian who had a lightsaber on his hip, and who had an alien with him, and all he wanted to do was ask to try his blaster and then maybe pass out.
It was actually disorientating. Giant, undead bird-god things and people-eating crocodiles were one thing. This guy might have flown an X-Wing. He could feel his head going all sorts of spacey, and that really wasn’t what they needed right now. The others didn’t know the canon - was it still canon if it was ‘real’ in a way?
‘Steven. You… think you can try talk like me for a bit?’ Marc floundered. ‘Don’t really want that conversation.’
“I will find my own food later, and your hospitality is appreciated,” Din answered, solemnly. “If you do not take credits, I will… find some other way to repay you. It would also help if you could provide me with star charts, so I can work out where the nearest system is.”
‘Uh…yeah. I can probably fake your accent well enough to fool him.’ Steven felt the distress coming from the Alter. He took over, doing his best American Voice. He’d tried practising this, to mixed results. It certainly wouldn’t fool Layla, but that wasn’t their aim. “Okay. Um…Grogu, right? Let’s get him fed, then we can try and find a star chart. Maybe online. Layla, if you want to talk to Taweret while I’m getting him fed?”
She tried not to double-take at the shift. Steven’s Marc voice was awful, but hopefully Din would just think he was stressed. “Yeah, good idea. I’ll call her from the bedroom. You alright?”
“I’ve got this,” he gave her a half-hearted smile. “Just a lot, is all.”
On that, they all agreed. “Okay. Be right back.”
Steven led the small party to the kitchen, trying to concentrate on the task at hand. They did have some vegan Bovril on hand, so no worries there. And though Din had said he wasn’t hungry, it was rude to not offer the man something.
“I’m making a smoothie if you’re interested. Don’t need to take your helmet off for it, even,” Steven held a baggie of frozen fruit medley aloft. “It’s loud to make, though, so don’t, um, shoot me with whatever’s on your wrist, please. Or anything else. The broth will be done in two ticks.”
Din could tell the other man was uneasy, but so was he. He’d just appeared in his home, in his ‘fresher, of course he’d be alarmed. They were just lucky that they happened to be (superficially at least) nice people.
“Grogu, leave the fish alone, and cover your ears for the noise,” he told his small charge.
Grogu did no such thing, instead leaping up to where the weird man was working. He held out a hand, hoping for a piece of whatever it was.
“It looks like fruit, not meat,” Din told the child.
Grogu dropped onto his butt in protest, and then cocked his head to watch some more.
‘...it really is a baby, isn’t it?’ Marc asked, a bit shaken, but less so now he didn’t have to hold it together in front of them. He hated that he wasn’t as mentally robust as ‘normal’ people, hated that at any point he risked crashing out of his own head.
Admittedly for years it had been mostly okay, and only the… shiva had caused any issues. Having Steven actively around to help out was amazing, but also a bit humiliating. Marc supposed he was just lucky it wasn’t Luke Skywalker who turned up in the tub, or - worse - Leia. Leia and that bikini and… nope. He thought about Jabba and that helped a bit.
‘I think so. It--he acts like a baby at any rate.’ Steven picked a strawberry out of the medley and offered it to the child. “It is fruit, but the broth is meaty. Will that be alright?”
He shook the remaining fruit and some non-dairy milk into their small blender.
Grogu took the offered berry, head tilting this way and that, and then devoured it whole. He made a curious, but not unhappy noise.
“So you’ll eat healthy for him, but not me?” Din sighed, ever the exasperated parent. “Figures. If it gets you eating healthy…”
Grogu looked the picture of innocence.
‘...it is cute, right?’ Marc asked. ‘Could probably kill us fifteen ways without moving, but it’s cute.’
“He’s my Foundling,” Din volunteered. “Tried to take him back to the Jedi, but he wanted to stay with me. Now he’s Mandalorian, too.”
‘...they can do that?!’ Marc flustered. ‘And does he look like Boba and Jango? Is he a clone? Where in the timeline is he even from?’
‘One thing at a time!’ Steven hit the blender button, trying desperately to remember who the hell Jango was. ‘If we start quoting his life story at him chapter and verse we’re going to freak him out.’
“Well, I’m glad whatever brought you here didn’t split you two up then,” Steven said above the noise. “You said you were on Mandalor right before you turned up here, right? Do you remember anything weird? Or--well, what do you remember?”
Hopefully some details that would help Marc pin down when and where the hell Din was from.
“...I was…” Din hesitated for a moment. He didn’t want to reveal things he shouldn’t about their ways and their Creed, but on reflection, he thought it would be okay. “I had broken a rule of my covert, and removed my helmet. In order to redeem myself, I made a pilgrimage to bathe in the Living Waters. I… don’t remember anything after I entered the water.”
Grogu made an unhappy noise, ears down again.
“Guess the kid jumped in after me.”
‘Okay, the helmet thing is weird.’ Marc nudged Steven gently. ‘Uh, he was taking the kid to the Jedi… maybe ask who’s in charge of them? That might help narrow it down?’
Steven nodded, turning off the blender. “Okay, so…no real answers there. Well then, maybe we can use our mystic connection to reach out to the Jedi for help getting you home. Who was it that Grogu saw? Do you know?”
“...Skywalker, I think. Human. And a Togruta. But he turned his back on them…” Din sounded wary.
‘Oh, so - probably Anakin and Ahsoka, which means it’s… it’s Clone Wars time, and he’s not Darth Vader yet. Not sure we want to hit up Anakin, but Ahsoka or Obi-Wan or even Yoda…’
Steven groaned internally. ‘Look, I’m really happy you’ve figured this out Marc, but if you could stop throwing names at me that’d be great.’
He poured the smoothies into glasses and the broth into a small mug for Grogu, being sure to put straws into the drinks (he set some aside for Layla, just in case she wrapped up her conversation with Taweret). “Okay, we’ll make a note of that. Worst thing they can say if we reach out for help is no. In that case you’re no worse off than you are now, right?”
Well, the worst thing they would say would be nothing because the bloody Jedi weren’t real because none of this was real, but he wasn’t going to say that.
Din nodded. “Agreed. And… if my own skills are of use…” His hand reached for the holstered blaster, making it quite clear he was only tapping it and not drawing it. “I can shoot. I can fly. I can track.”
Grogu cheered, and added whatever it was he could do that wasn’t ‘eat broth and possibly fish’.
“Uh that’s…appreciated. Layla and I are…Well, depending on what brought you here, that might actually be needed. We’ve gone against some things that…” Steven trailed off. “Well, let’s not borrow trouble for the moment. But yeah, we’re not totally hopeless when it comes to fighting and tracking either. And Layla--”
Layla reemerged from the bedroom, glancing over her shoulder. “I tried to keep her from coming in person but when I said there was a baby involved she insisted.”
Grogu squealed in delight at something the others in the room apparently couldn’t see, dancing on his little feet and throwing his arms up for a hug.
“...who are you talking about?” Din asked.
“Awwwuhhhhheeeeeeegugugu!” Grogu replied, still bouncing.
“This is going to sound strange, but it’s already been a strange day, so why stop now?” Layla sighed as Taweret quivered behind her. “The short version is that our planet has several pantheons of gods. I serve one named Taweret, the goddess of children among other things. She’s typically invisible to everyone else, but I guess Grogu can see her since--”
“Oh I can’t stand it, look at his dear little ears!” Taweret squeaked, bustling around her Avatar and scooping the child up into a cuddle. “He’s absolutely adorable! Oh my goodness, wherever in the world did you come from, you cute little thing?!”
Grogu immediately grabbed at the goddess’ necklace, playing and squeaking in delight.
At least that’s what Layla could see. To Din and the two time-sharing boys, the green child was floating in mid-air and flapping about at nothing.
Din’s hand went to his blaster, clearly spooked. Even for Grogu’s standards, this was weird.
“...tell me I can trust whatever has hold of my kid,” Din growled, spooked. “Because I really don’t want to shoot something I can’t see.”
“It’s her job to protect women and children,” Steven tried to keep his voice level. “Grogu’s about the safest kid on the whole planet right now.”
“And I’m her Avatar,” Layla gestured to her armour. “That’s what this is about. Means I can bench press a spaceship or throw a--a Bantha across a room. Especially if it means keeping a kid safe.”
“Oh.” Taweret finally noticed the spooked Mandalorian. “Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to scare your Father. I…I don’t really get a chance to interact with…Well, you must be very special, little one.”
Grogu patted at Taweret’s face, then turned and waved cheerfully at Din.
Din relaxed. A little. “Okay. That’s… alright. So. About those star charts?”