Jango realizes right around the time he finishes the landing procedures that he’s going to have to explain this.
Kark.
He has a kriffing child now.
A child that probably won’t react very well to any welcoming committee that might be outside.
Jango hasn’t been home in months.
If any of his stupid friends caught wind of this…
He briefly considers running off to the outer rim and never coming back, but… unfortunately, he does like it here, and he does like his stupid friends.
Well, nothing to be done about it now.
He glances at one of his external cameras, hoping to get an idea of exactly how many people he should prepare them for.
There’s only one.
Jaster, tapping absently at the helmet clipped to his belt and waiting patiently for the ramp to come down.
Ah, he must have taken Jango’s implications and decided to keep it quiet. He really is so sensible, there’s a reason he’s made such a good leader.
Jango turns to Obi-Wan, who’s looking significantly more nervous now that they’re actually on planet and smiles a little, more than a little relieved to be facing only one person.
“There’s someone out there who’d like to meet you, but only one, and if you’re not ready you can certainly say so.”
They turn to him and glance at the screen he tilts his head to.
They still look nervous but breathe in and out a few times and straighten up with a confidence that’s only half false.
“I’ll be alright.”
Jango nods and breathes out a sigh.
He gets up and shuts everything down.
Obi-Wan follows him out the door, a little behind and to the side.
Jaster straightens up slightly as they come out and smiles slightly, first to Jango before perking up at the sight of Obi-Wan.
His eyes catalog them both.
Jango gets a nod once he’s been found appropriately uninjured.
He almost sighs and rolls his eyes in exasperation.
He’s fine, he said he was fine.
His expression tightens at Obi-Wan’s state, not that Jango expected anything else.
The poor kid seems more and more nervous by the moment for all that Jango can’t see them.
He does sigh at that.
“Buir.” Jango glares lightly.
“Ad’ika.” Jaster just gives him an innocent look.
“Obi-Wan, this is Jaster Mereel. Jaster, this is Obi-Wan.”
“Su cuy’gar Obi-Wan.”
“Um, su cuy’gar.” They sound the greeting out carefully.
Jango can feel them shrinking even further behind him.
“It’s nice to meet you little one.”
“Nice to meet you too.”
Jaster glances at Jango and gestures for them to follow.
“Come, I have the day off. We should get you settled in and then we can visit.”
“How did you manage to get the whole day off?” Jango knows how busy he is.
“I asked Silas to cover for me.”
“Really…”
“Of course.” Jaster just smiles at his skeptical look.
They walk slowly down the halls, neither of them willing to rush Obi-Wan. They’re easily distracted by staring at all the tapestries with obvious fascination and interest.
The halls are suspiciously empty, Jango raises an eyebrow at Jaster.
He gives him a very smug look in response.
“Where is everyone?” He narrows his eyes.
“Ah, well, you see. There was a very urgent dispute on the edges of the city yesterday that Myles just had to take a squad to handle, they shouldn’t be back today. Silas, of course, needed some assistance covering for me and,” his eyes lose a bit of their mischief, “it is that time.”
Jango searches his memories and, yes, he supposes it is.
“I hadn’t realized it was so late in the year.”
Jaster hums, unsurprised. “She should be back within the tenday.”
Jango’s shoulders slump. “Thank you.”
“Of course,” Jaster gives him a knowing look. “I do have some idea of how it feels.”
Jango actually stops short at that.
“What?”
Jaster looks him over again, as if to say Jango should know.
“You look happy, Jango.”
Oh.
He should have known he wouldn’t be able to hide that from him. Jango’s been a twisted mix of nerves and joy ever since they landed.
He glances away for a moment, trying to think of a reply.
Obi-Wan seems to realize they’ve been left behind and hurries to catch up.
Jango clears his throat and moves on.
Obi-Wan tilts their head a little, watching him like they might figure him out if they only look long enough.
Jaster chuckles lightly and Obi-Wan starts following again.
-
By the time they make it to the rooms Jaster’s been guiding them to, Jango can tell they’re getting tired.
There isn’t one thing that tells him so, he just knows.
He narrows his eyes at their nervous smile.
“You should sleep.” He blurts, ignoring Jaster’s startled chuckle from his side.
They look put out at that, mumbling something about the Force betraying them and not being a little initiate anymore.
Jaster finally gets his laughter under control enough to say something. “There’s a room set up for you, if you’d like to rest. Midmeal won’t be for a couple hours, there’s plenty of time.”
Obi-Wan actually considers that, forehead furrowing slightly before nodding, clearly a tad relieved at the offer despite themself.
Jaster shows them the room before coming back and smiling at Jango.
“What?”
Jaster doesn’t say anything, moving around the kitchen and making some shig for both of them.
Jango sighs and takes a seat, resigned to wait.
He glances up as a mug slides over.
“I’m proud of you Jango.”
Oh, this is going to be one of those conversations.
Jango feels his face heating up, grateful for his complexion hiding it for the most part.
“I am.” Jaster makes determined eye contact.
“Thanks,” Jango manages to choke out.
Jaster smiles behind his shig before having mercy and moving on.
“Now, am I correct in assuming you’re here to stay?”
“Yes, I-, they’re not well and I can’t exactly bring them with me on hunts. They should know other Mandalorians, we are not meant to be alone.”
Jaster nods, satisfied.
“A wise choice.”
“You just want me home more.” He accuses.
Jaster chuckles again, “hmm, I am strong enough to admit to having ulterior motives.”
“I don’t know what I’m doing Buir.” He admits suddenly.
“You’re doing your best.”
He takes a sip of his shig, still warm and steaming. “...Yeah.”
“You’re not alone Jan’ika. I’m not going anywhere, your friends will be back soon enough, even Arla won’t be gone for more than a tenday.”
That helps, it helps a lot actually.
Jango isn’t alone here, he has people to help him, even if Myles is definitely going to make fun of him first.
“Vor’e.”
Jaster nods in acknowledgement and lets the atmosphere hang for a moment. “Now, tell me more about them?”
Jango sighs, more exasperated than anything now.
“Lek, Buir.”
“Jate.”
“Obi-Wan?”
Jango knocks lightly on the door and waits for them to stir.
They sit up with a soft groan, rubbing at their eyes and glaring at the world. Their hair is wild and disheveled, clothes creased and wrinkled.
Jango suppresses a snort, Obi-Wan turns and narrows their eyes at him.
“Midmeal should be ready soon.”
They yawn and nod their head in absent acknowledgement, not fully awake yet.
“Jango?”
“Hmm?”
“Who’s Jaster?”
“Did I not tell you?”
“No,” they grumble, “I have no idea who that is and you haven’t told me what Buir means so I can’t guess.”
“Ah, Buir means, uh, it means parent.” He stubbornly doesn’t acknowledge their blush or his own uncomfortable expression.
“Oh, um, am I supposed to call you that?”
Jango had not thought that far ahead. “You don’t have to if you don’t feel comfortable, I adopted you but that doesn’t mean you have to call me your parent. We’re very close in age…”
No one ever said anything about parenting being this karking awkward.
“If you wanted you could go with something like ori'vod, that's older brother, or just Jango?”
No one said anything about what to do about kids who shudder at the term older brother either.
His eyes widen at the reaction but they just close their eyes and take a few very deep breaths.
“Um, I’m fine with parent, maybe, but, um, I’m not sure…”
They look at him with eyes that plead for understanding and he nods. They aren’t ready and quite frankly neither is he.
“You can call me Jango for as long as you want.” He offers softly and they nod with relieved gratitude.
They’ll figure it out.
They just need time.
“So,” Obi-Wan carefully changes the subject, “Jaster Mereel’s my grandfather now? Technically?”
Jango nods and guesses the next question without a thought. “That word’s ba’buir, though he won’t mind Jaster at all.”
“Alright,” they sound the word out a couple times carefully, “anything else I should know?”
Jango tilts his head against the door frame and thinks for a moment before a thought has him suppressing another smile.
“Oh yeah, he’s also the Mand’alor.”
He watches that process for a second and snickers at the betrayed expression on the kid’s face.
“I’m related to the Mand’alor!? That’s the leader of Mandalore right?” They clarify and he nods, hiding a small smile behind his hand. “Jango…” they whine, “that’s important information…”
He can tell they’re mostly being dramatic, which makes his heart sing in a way he hadn’t realized possible but he can see there are some real nerves there as well.
“I didn’t mean to leave it out, I may have… forgotten that I hadn’t told you yet.”
They fall back dramatically onto the bed and stare up at the ceiling.
“Is he still here?”
“He’s in the kitchen.”
They groan again.
“You’ll be fine, he’s an embarrassing father and amateur historian at heart. The worst you have to fear is endless questions about the Jedi Archives. If he ever finds out where you’re from that is.”
That gets their attention. “You didn’t tell him?”
Jango shakes his head. “No, he would not treat you differently for it, except to interrogate you about his favorite subjects, but I know it was… hard for you to tell me and I will not lie and say there are not some here who would likely treat you poorly for it. I won’t take that away from you.”
“Oh,” they look at him with so much emotion it almost hurts. “Thank you.”
“Of course,” he swallows and peers around the corner to see Jaster humming and setting the table. “Ready?”
They blow out a long breath and nod.
“I’m ready.”
-
Jaster smiles when they make their way to the table.
Jango leans over to see what he’s made and nods with approval, it’s a hearty soup but not so rich as to risk turning still healing stomachs.
He sits down facing Jaster and makes sure to leave plenty of room for Obi-Wan at his side.
The kid joins him with a very polite flourish.
They eat in silence for the most part, Obi-Wan doesn’t seem too terribly nervous anymore and Jaster’s enough of an adult he can figure out how to talk to his new grandchild without Jango’s help.
“Um, Jango said, that you, uh, like history?” Oh, Obi-Wan.
They fiddle idly with their spoon, visibly uncomfortable even as they try so hard.
Jaster lights up just like he does every time someone even vaguely references one of his interests.
“Elek, if only I had the time to truly give it justice!” Jango rolls his eyes, it’s a known fact that if he could Jaster would spend nearly all his time in some archive studying. “Do you like history, Obi-Wan?”
A hesitant nod.
Jaster straightens up with clear delight dancing in his eyes.
“Ori’jate, I knew I wouldn’t be alone forever!” He smiles and Obi-Wan tentatively smiles back, just a small twitch of their lips.
“This one just doesn’t understand.” He gestures to Jango who huffs in amusement. Jaster had tried, he really had but Jango is a farmer’s son and bounty hunter at heart.
“I can show you the library later, if you would like?” Jaster asks and Obi-Wan manages a nod, subdued excitement in their expression.
“Jate!” Jaster’s grin is interrupted by the screeching of his comm, he scowls down at it. A sigh and he shovels the rest of his soup down.
He retrieves his helmet from the counter and points a finger at Jango.
“Baar’ur maan, goran projor.” He waits for Jango’s agreeing nod before waving to both of them and heading out. “Ret'urcye mhi.”
“Ret'urcye mhi.” Jango and Obi-Wan echo, the latter much quieter.
The Medbay is blessedly quiet when they arrive. Small mercies have them avoiding anyone Jango knows well.
Obi-Wan shrinks closer to his side by the moment and he can practically feel their nerves as they glance around.
He bothers the assistant at the front desk into letting them use a private room to fill out the medical history forms and questionnaires.
The gradual loss of tension in their shoulders tells Jango he’s made the right choice.
“Alright,” he tries his best to make sense of the forms and fill them out accurately. Getting to the Clan and House affiliation questions somehow makes everything feel all the more real. It almost makes him laugh, something so simple and mundane. He takes a deep breath after finishing the last letters. “Allergies?”
“Hoi-broth.”
“Really?” Jango asks incredulously.
“Yes. Really.” They puff up slightly in offense. It’s cute and Jango has to work to keep himself from smiling.
“Sorry.” They blow out a frustrated sigh.
Jango makes a dismissive gesture, it’s fine. “Anything else?”
They shake their head. “Not that I know of.”
“Species?”
“Human.” Jango glares at the form, trying to make sense of which question comes next, they really should redesign these things.
Obi-Wan has started tracing mindless patterns on the floor with their foot.
“Planet of origin?”
“Stewjon.”
“Biological parents’ planet(s) of origin?”
They go on from there, Obi-Wan’s own lack of knowledge making the process relatively quick if nothing else. Jango sighs when they’ve finished and leaves to turn the forms in. He wonders if they could bother the Jedi later for more complete records.
The wait isn’t long from there. A middle-aged Rutian Twi’lek joins them quickly and Jango is relieved to find Obi-Wan doesn’t tense up at her appearance, maybe they felt her coming.
“Hello, I am Dr. Tann of Clan Awaud and House Mereel.”
The kid nods very politely and Jango thinks they’re hiding their nerves very well all things considered.
“Obi-Wan Kenobi.”
She nods decisively and turns to Jango.
“Jango Fett, Fett and Mereel.”
She nods knowingly and he huffs. She glances in his direction again a little curiously but says nothing and turns back to Obi-Wan.
“Would you like Jango to leave or stay?”
“Stay please.”
She smiles kindly and asks a few clarifying questions about their answers, seemingly trying to figure out where to start.
Finally, she starts her examination. Jango is shooed out briefly so Obi-Wan can change and for the first scan. His return finds Obi-Wan looking very small.
He has thought them small before, malnutrition likely interrupting at least one expected growth spurt. He won’t be surprised if Tann tells them their growth is stunted. Meeting their gaze across the room and seeing that horrible relief in their eyes, like he can somehow keep them safe from their fears and anxieties, has him thinking it all over again.
His kid, his child by oath and agreement, swamped in thin medical robes that make them look so vulnerable and automatically relaxing in his presence. It fills him with more affection than he'd ever thought possible.
He can only hope he never fails that little smile, that he never betrays those eyes that have seen and suffered so much.
He offers them a small smile back and leans against a wall, out of the way but watching, trying his best to express without words that they are safe.
Tann frowns at several points, Jango tries very hard not to let it bother him.
He tries very hard not to think of how maybe he should have pushed harder in the beginning, how Aayla was the one to get bacta on some of their wounds, how much impact a few days can have, how dangerous infection can be.
Apparently he isn’t trying hard enough because Obi-Wan rubs at their forehead irritably.
“Please stop self-flagellating, it’s giving me a headache.” They grumble.
“How do you know I’m self-flagellating?” Jango huffs.
“Your face.” They glare with challenge.
Jango doesn’t think his face was anything but neutral. He focuses on keeping it calm and guilt-free.
“I’m fine.” They start only to wince at Tann’s sharp disagreeing look. “I’m mostly fine?”
She narrows her eyes at them.
“I’m not dying?” They try.
She huffs out a slightly exasperated breath.
“No, you are not dying verd’ika.”
“Good,” they breathe out a small sigh. “See, not dying.”
They try for a small cheeky grin, it doesn’t really work with the genuine discomfort they’re radiating but Jango finds himself smiling a little anyway.
“‘Lek, not dying.”
“What’s verd’ika mean?”
Jango thumps his head back against the wall and focuses on breathing, the soft sounds of explanation of the new word fading into the background.
-
Obi-Wan gets his attention by tentatively poking him.
Jango cracks an eye open and pushes off the wall to sit down next to them.
They hesitate, the muscles in their hand jumping, before reaching over and taking his hand.
It is a small thing, it makes his heart leap.
He rubs small circles over the back of their knuckles in comfort.
Tann gives him a knowing look that he very dutifully ignores.
It’s none of her business.
“Well, I’ll keep this simple for you.” Obi-Wan nods from his side. “The good news is you seem to be healing fairly well all things considered. None of your injuries are life-threatening. Your journey will be long, I will not lie to you, it will be frustrating and hard, you will not like all of it.”
They nod again.
“You are malnourished, I am going to give Jango a meal plan for you to follow.”
“Alright.”
“I am no expert, you will need to visit someone else for the nerve damage and long term healing, that includes a mind healer.”
She actually crouches to catch his eyes.
“You are strong, little warrior. K'oyacyi.”
“Um, vor’e, Dr. Tann.”
“Ba'gedet'ye.”
She stands and gives Jango a look that would have even the most stubborn warrior freezing in place.
“This is your responsibility, Jango Fett. No exceptions, no excuses.” Something tells him she isn’t only talking about the preloaded datapad she’s pushing into his hands.
On another day, in another life he may have scoffed and rolled his eyes. This day, glancing back down into little blue eyes, he does nothing but take a deep breath and nod.
“Of course.”
Jango is admittedly slightly nervous about their next stop and not only because it technically should have been their first.
She’ll forgive him for the delay, Obi-Wan’s wellbeing is more important than the traditional order of things.
It doesn’t stop him from being nervous.
Obi-Wan is quiet on the walk over, glancing up at him frequently, which means they’ve definitely noticed his nerves.
Jango sighs heavily and pauses, trying to collect his thoughts.
He needs to explain.
“Obi-Wan?”
“Yes?”
“I, uh, I told you about gorane, armorers, right?”
They nod slowly.
“We’re going to see House Mereel’s armorer. It’s nothing to worry about, not really but-, it is tradition, to present new members of a clan to the most appropriate goran. In our case, since Clan Fett has none, that would be House Mereel’s armorer.”
“Oh.” They’re starting to look nervous which is not what Jango was going for.
“Yeah.” Jango tries to think of a way to reassure them but can’t come up with anything that isn’t ‘I am not sure what I’m doing and honestly she’s definitely going to know that better than nearly anyone.’
“Come on.” He offers them his hand, hoping they’ll find the action reassuring if nothing else.
Obi-Wan looks at him, in that terribly knowing way they do that has Jango fighting a shiver, and takes it.
The forge is in the very heart of Keldabe, the entire city is said to be built around it.
The Mand’alor’s palace was built over top of it but the Mand’alor is not the heart of the city and they are not the heart of their people.
It is a large forge, with many visitors and workers coming in and out.
It holds many of the clan armorers for House Mereel as well as the head armorer, it is both busy and quiet.
Busy because of the bustling in and out.
Quiet because of the sacred nature of the work and the fact House Mereel’s armorer maintains her own space much of the time.
Jango guides Obi-Wan through the large outer room, a few glances all the attention they receive.
This is a clan affair and not to be interrupted.
House Mereel’s armorer is often a surprise, though she really shouldn’t be.
Clan Mereel is small, made even smaller by the Civil Wars. If it wasn’t for a long tradition of stubborn dedication to rejecting the idea of using an armorer from outside their clan, they likely wouldn’t have had one at all.
Clan Mereel’s armorer is a rather short and stocky Pantoran, a foundling adopted and apprenticed older than most, knowledgeable and determined. She took to the transition from small clan armorer to the head armorer of the House of the Mand’alor with a dedication rarely found even among the best armorers.
There had been conflict, in the beginning, about whether she was worthy of the position. Jaster had backed her wholeheartedly and his faith has proved to be well-placed more than once.
She is competent and more than slightly terrifying.
Jango swallows when he comes to the threshold.
“Goran Mereel?”
She does not look up from her work but tilts her head to the side in acknowledgement.
Jango leads Obi-Wan over to stand where directed and waits.
Obi-Wan takes everything in with awe.
He supposes a little awe is warranted, he can remember the first time he was allowed to stay. Jango remembers being so very small and so very excited, standing next to Arla as her first piece was forged. He remembers the bright sparks and clanging sounds that seemed almost otherworldly. His pride that his sister was ready, that she was strong. He can understand how impressive the forge can be.
“Jango Fett.” Obi-Wan startles out of their quiet revelry at her voice. “You’ve come for a purpose?”
She sticks to Mando’a for the most part except in things like this, where understanding is more important than tradition.
“Yes,” he starts and pauses, he blows out a huffed sigh. There is no reason for apprehension. “This is Obi-Wan Kenobi, of Clan Fett and House Mereel.”
He gestures for them to step forward, which they do, a little nervously. They twitch a little like they want to bow but don’t think it would be appropriate, they’re right, before settling for a polite but tight smile.
“Su cuy’gar.”
She nods approvingly at their careful pronunciation.
“Su cuy’gar, Obi-Wan Kenobi, of Clan Fett and House Mereel. Olarum.”
She finishes her piercing studying of his kid and turns back to Jango.
“Aliit ori'shya tal'din.” She nods, satisfied.
“Vor entye.”
She waves him off and gestures back to Obi-Wan. “Let me know when they are coming, I will have no excuses Jango Fett.”
He smiles slightly, remembering his foolish attempts to dodge her in his youth.
“Elek.”
“Jate.”
She nods and turns back to her work without another word.
-
Obi-Wan waits until they’re back in their rooms to ask what she meant.
“Armorers are spiritual leaders as much as they are forgers, they carry our stories and traditions in their hearts. If there is an armorer available, foundlings are sent to learn some of them. She’ll probably include some of Clan Mereel’s stories for you, she did for me. Not all of them, those remain with Jaster and whoever she trains as her apprentice.”
“Oh, so like myths?”
“Myths, legends, morality tales, traditions, language, anything you want to know about being Mando’ad. An armorer will know, or at least who to ask.” He shrugs. “She’s intimidating and tough but… there are few as passionate.”
They nod and settle into that contemplative quiet that Jango has quickly started to find comforting.
Jango feels, more or less, that things have been going well.
Obi-Wan has met Jaster and doesn’t seem to mind him.
They’ve seen to their health and well-being.
He’s presented them to the armorer.
Overall, Jango goes to bed that night feeling more confident than he was standing in the landing bay.
He drifts off with the knowledge that he’s not alone and the contented feeling of home.
Jango has felt fear before.
He has felt terrible, helpless fear.
This is worse than that.
His heart is beating harder than it ever has over any close call or near miss.
His breathing is coming in faster than any memory or nightmare of his parents falling and his sister stolen.
Even the desperate choking gasps bring no relief.
He can’t breathe.
He’s never felt anything like this.
He is helpless and alone and afraid and he’s going to die, he’s going to die and he doesn’t want to and-.
Jango bolts up, clutching at his neck and breathing panicked.
This isn’t him.
The thought is enough to startle him into sucking in a deep breath.
This isn’t his fear.
There’s terror ringing in his head and it isn’t his.
He focuses on taking deep breaths.
Calm down.
Assess the situation.
He hasn’t eaten anything strange, hasn’t been exposed to any strange fauna or been bitten by any unfamiliar animals.
Hasn’t been anywhere odd, just the medbay and armory with…
Obi-Wan.
He stumbles over to the other room, the cold floor on his feet is grounding, just a little.
Anything to distract from the terrible fear.
“Obi-Wan!” He bursts into the room.
Obi-Wan is curled up, arms hugging tightly around themself. Jango moves closer but they don’t seem aware of anything, lost in whatever nightmare has them trapped.
He hesitates, fear still coursing through his veins.
They whimper quietly and he takes a breath, reaching out a hand to run through still, disheveled hair.
Obi-Wan’s breath hitches and the fear in Jango’s head feels like a scream.
“Obi-Wan, it’s just me, it’s just Jango, you’re alright, I promise, you need to wake up.” He feels foolish, rambling comforts and trying to calm his own heart.
It feels like a very long time, though Jango knows it’s only been moments before their eyes blink open and stare uncomprehendingly at him.
They blink slowly and finally shudder as their eyes start to clear.
Jango moves to take his hand away and they grab it and drag it back to their head, too shaken to worry about it.
The screaming terror is gone and his mind is his own.
It's almost more disorienting to feel it blink out in an instant, as if he'd never felt it in the first place, than if it had stayed.
Jango swallows his apprehension and sits on the edge of the bed, slowly carding through their hair.
“I’m sorry.” They whisper.
Jango swallows carefully. “I take it that wasn’t supposed to happen?”
“No, I’m-, my shields shouldn’t-, they’re-, he took them apart.”
Jango waits, humming to let them know he’s listening.
“He ripped them apart and I-, I have to fix them but-, it’s hard and I-, we have a bond, Jango.”
He hums again, he hopes that isn’t dangerous.
“I didn’t-, I really didn’t mean to but-, I’ve been so lonely and-, I trust you.”
There’s so much fragile confidence in the end. It makes his heart warm and shatter in turns. They trust him, for all that has happened to them, they trust him.
“Do you want quiet? Or a distraction? Or I could ask questions?” He can wait, whatever this is can surely wait if that's what Obi-Wan needs.
“Um, you can ask. I think-,” they sniffle, still shaking slightly. “I think questions might be good.”
“Alright.” He leans his head back for a moment, gathering his thoughts. “What do you mean bond?”
“I-, um, I suppose I should start with the Force. Have you ever felt like something bad was going to happen and then it did? Or just knew something without anyone telling you?”
Jango snorts a little. “Yeah, kid, that’s just instincts.”
He can see their nose scrunching up a little in the dim light coming from the hallway.
“Sometimes, yeah, maybe even for a lot of people. I really don’t-.” They huff, frustrated and Jango smooths over their hair again. “We have a bond, in the Force, it ties us together, ever since you adopted me.”
“Alright…” He supposes that makes sense, admittedly really weird though.
“Jango. Force nulls can’t form Force bonds.”
“So…?” He starts slowly. “Didn’t you make it?”
“That’s the thing, it wouldn’t have worked or at least if it did it would’ve been one-sided. I would have felt things from you but you wouldn’t have felt how tired I was when we got here or how scared I was just now.”
Jango… does not know how he’s supposed to react to that. “I have magic?”
“It’s not magic…” They groan halfheartedly.
Jango kind of stares off into space.
The chrono is telling him it is far too early for any kind of life changing revelation.
If Jango is being completely honest, he could have gone the rest of his life not knowing this. He’s a bounty hunter! Practical! Professional! He does not listen to magic voices!
Except… What was it that told him there was someone on his ship that wasn’t supposed to be? Why is his child’s fear in his head?
“Jango?” Comes a small voice, kark, he’s been quiet too long.
“Does it… hurt you?”
“No! It doesn’t, I’m-, I’m not great with the Force right now. I’m healing, what he did to me… It was…” They shiver. “It will take a long time.”
“Alright.”
“I can… I can try to dissolve it… if you want.” Jango can hear the hesitancy in their voice and takes another breath.
“Why don’t-, why don’t you tell me about this bond? What do they mean? To the Jedi?”
They fidget and shift a little before settling down.
If he tries Jango thinks he can feel the roiling emotions, muffled, like light behind a curtain and isn’t that a kriffing strange development.
“Bonds… They’re important. I have bonds with most of my crechemates, my crechemaster. We might choose to dissolve them when we get older. If I had been chosen as a padawan I would have one with my master. We have-, Jedi form bonds with the people closest to us.”
They shudder. “They are intimate, usually not as much as this one but I can’t really shield much. A bond is a risk, it is a connection to someone’s soul. I don’t-, can I… maybe show you?”
There is a bond in his head and Jango has no idea how to react to that, has no idea what any of this Force stuff is. Obi-Wan is trying their best but… this is clearly something difficult to explain with words. He nods, cautiously.
In the dark of Obi-Wan’s room, hand still buried in their hair he feels something. Not the horrible fear of a nightmare, not the vague exhaustion of a hurt teen. It’s warm and precious and if Jango had to put a name to it he would call it comfort.
The best he can describe it is the feeling of napping as a teenager with Jaster across from him doing flimsiwork, the occasional shuffling of flimsi and datapads the only noise between them, content and warm and trusting that nothing could touch him there.
“Oh.”
He feels them nod under his hand.
“That’s-,” he starts, “you don’t have to. I think-, I understand.”
He feels traces of terrible relief before they fade, Obi-Wan pulling back.
“There’s-, um, there’s some more formal shields I could teach you. It isn’t healthy to be so connected, and I-, um, really don’t want to wake you up.”
“I don’t mind.” He blurts before he can think his words through. “I mean-, I understand. I get it, I want my privacy as much as you. I want to support you, if that’s alright. I don’t mind helping with this, even if it wakes me up.”
They breathe out, long and tired. “Alright.”
Jango wakes up with a horrible crick in his neck and a back that really shouldn’t be that stiff. Jango is nowhere near old enough to be experiencing back pain.
He groans and shifts to stretch, cursing himself for falling asleep sitting up instead of lying down like humans are generally supposed to, only to find his hand trapped under another body. Great, now he has to extract his arm without waking Obi-Wan up.
It takes a second to remember why he’s here, why Obi-Wan is holding his hand hostage. It all comes back quickly and he almost wishes it hadn’t.
Jango’s got… magic? The Force? Whatever. Whatever it is, it’s probably laughing at him.
This all feels like some very cosmic practical joke.
Not that he thinks Obi-Wan is lying. No, Jango believes them it’s just… it feels pointed.
He can hear the Armorer’s voice in the back of his mind helpfully telling him that “not everything is out to get you Jan’ika.”
Well, he seriously doubts that she’s ever had to deal with the kind of nonsense he’s found himself in.
He takes his hand back carefully and glances over at the chrono. It’s a somewhat normal hour now, thank the stars.
An investigation finds a well stocked kitchen and, of course, the datapad.
He glares at it.
It sits there, taunting him.
Jango sighs and goes over to power it on. He is an adult, a responsible adult with a child. He can handle medical restrictions, he can handle meal plans.
He’s most of the way through a simple dish when Obi-Wan stumbles out of their room.
“Vaar'tur.” He greets.
They groan and mumble something back. He doesn’t think he feels anything from them this morning. He decides to take that as a good sign.
Food gets them to perk up, always interested in trying something new. They both eat quietly for a bit, neither quite sure how to begin.
“‘M sorry about waking you up.”
Jango sighs.
“I would rather be woken up than leave you to deal with it alone.”
They go back to silence before Jango works out how to continue.
“You said-” he pauses to remember the word “something about shields?”
They perk up again.
“Yes, I could teach you. If you want?”
“The shields will help… with the…” he waves a hand vaguely, “emotions thing?”
They hum affirmatively and nod, “they should. I can’t teach you much, you’re not a Jedi and it’s really dangerous but… I can help with that.”
“Alright.” He sighs. “Is there anything we need… for that?”
Why is this happening? Jango was perfectly happy to leave them to their meditating and katas in peace.
They shrug. “Not really? Some people like being with nature but…”
Yeah, Jango was blessed with an array of allergies and an unfortunate hatred of certain grass textures. He does not need nature.
“Right, um, we could, um, try after food?”
“Sure.”
-
Jango is a bounty hunter, he’s used to waiting and staying still. Not every target shows up the first hour of a stake out, not every target shows up the first day.
That doesn’t mean he likes it very much, there’s something very uncomfortable about sitting across from someone else and being told to breathe and focus on the Force.
How is Jango supposed to know what that is?
He huffs and tries his best, keeping his eyes closed even though he hates being vulnerable. He isn’t being vulnerable, Obi-Wan is his child, not a bounty or a threat. He doesn’t really feel threatened or anything, it’s just… uncomfortable.
“Um, the Force, it um, it feels different for most people. One of my friends always said it felt like a warm ocean, I’ve heard mist too.”
Jango hums. “What about you?”
They’re quiet for a bit before whispering, “light, it feels like light.”
Obi-Wan clears their throat after a moment and moves on, “Anyway, shielding! I’m not really sure… They start teaching shielding really young. I suppose, there’s a lot of ways to do it.”
Jango hums through their explanations, some make significantly more sense to him than others. He partially zones out as Obi-Wan gets lost in some enthusiastic explanation of philosophy or something that Jango would bet good credits Jaster would love to interrogate them about.
He’s half listening but… shielding is basically armor, just for your mind… probably.
He takes a deep breath, he’s not wearing any of his armor right now and focuses on the feeling of beskar, the way the curves of the helmet feel around his head and imagines it protecting him against more than just blaster bolts and punches.
It feels… right somehow and wow Jango has no idea what he’s doing.
It seems to work though, it feels secure, even without being real.
It’s a really odd experience, strange and honestly Jango’s life feels a little upended right now.
He takes another deep breath, Obi-Wan has stopped talking and considers. There’s something niggling in the back of his mind… He imagines his internal comms and finds himself with a connection.
Jango’s curiosity gets the better of him and he opens it without a thought.
It feels like static for a moment before it flares with pure panic and cuts off completely and Jango opens his eyes in bewilderment.
Obi-Wan looks very pale and frightened before him, breaths coming in a little too fast.
“Obi-Wan?” He starts softly. “Are you alright?”
“Don’t-” They gasp out, eyes wide and unfocused. “Don’t do that again, please.”
“Alright, I won’t, I promise just-,” Jango pauses, he has no idea what exactly he just promised not to do. “What?”
“You reached out, you reached out and-” Jango nods, he hadn’t realized the imaginary comms would actually do anything. “I’m-, I-.”
“I understand, I won’t do it again.” He soothes and hesitates before offering a hand.
Obi-Wan takes it and doesn’t let go, eventually squeezing intermittently in what must be some kind of breathing pattern.
Jango sighs, a soft thing as they finally finish calming down. They’re still shaky, he can see that at a glance and their eyes are still a little unfocused.
“I think that’s enough for today.” He says quietly and Obi-Wan nods blankly.
Jango stands, careful not to pull his hand away and tugs them up.
Hmmm, probably a good time to introduce the kid to the glories of Mandalorian desserts.
Jango’s about ready to call the day a bust by midmeal.
Obi-Wan is still a little empty. Jango may not be able to feel it anymore but he can tell. They aren’t doing well, their eyes distant and unfocused.
He called off Jaster’s bonding plans not long after it became clear Obi-Wan wasn’t getting much better even with Jango's best attempts.
He’s debating how to subtly track down some sort of guide to traumatized teenagers while cleaning his armor when there’s a knock on the door.
Obi-Wan startles out of their daze for a moment at the sound.
Jango glares at the door and debates the pros and cons of ignoring it.
“Jango!”
Ah, definitely ignoring it then.
“Jango! I know you’re in there!”
Obi-Wan flinches lightly at the noise and Jango glowers.
“Who’s that?” They’re so quiet, they’re always quiet but this is a quiet Jango hates more than anything.
“An idiot.”
“Ah-ha! I hear you Jango!”
He sighs and sets the piece he’s been working on down.
Obi-Wan looks up at him, a little more aware than before and still so lost.
“I can tell him to leave?”
They just shrug, glancing in the direction of their room.
“That’s fine too.” He’s not sure how this will go, he’ll just have to trust their judgment.
The pounding gets louder.
“C’mon, I promise I won’t drink all your tihaar this time…”
Jango storms over, grumbling curses and throws open the door.
Myles stumbles slightly and perks up like some kind of baby striil at the sight of their favorite treat.
“Jango! You’re back!”
Jango nods because he is, in fact, back.
Myles smiles at him, genuinely pleased and moves for a hug that Jango easily dodges.
“How long? I can’t believe Jaster didn’t tell me you were coming!” He wanders over to the counter and settles on one of the stools.
“I’m sure he just thought you were busy.”
“I’m never too busy to see you Jango.”
Alright, Jango is about at his limit for emotional discussions right now. He cannot deal with this on top of everything else. Fortunately, he knows Myles well enough to know how to distract him.
He dumps a bowl of small fruits in front of his friend and within moments Myles is effectively distracted.
“So,” Myles starts between bites. “What’s with the rooms? They’re kinda big for you, aren’t they?”
Curse his stupid friend’s stupid observational skills. He should have known.
“Perhaps…”
“I thought Jaster kept all your stuff where you left it in your old rooms?” Myles crunches on another piece of fruit and cranes his neck around to find Jango’s pile of armor. “Jango, did you find a spouse?”
Jango wants to kick him out. Obi-Wan is not doing well and Myles is loud and enthusiastic and kind and well on his way to figuring them out.
“I did not.” He grits out but Myles isn’t looking at him, instead he’s staring at Obi-Wan’s room with a look of shock on his face.
Jango hears the door shut and closes his eyes.
Breathing is important, especially when dealing with people figuring out you have a child.
“Jango…”
“Yes, Myles?” He sighs, there’s no delaying it now.
“Was that a kid?”
Jango shrugs, yeah he’s being difficult but he can’t really bring himself to care right now.
“Jango, Jango, where did you get a child from!?” He leans over the counter and hisses.
“Didn’t get them from anywhere they stowed away.”
“That sounds adorable Jango, you’ll have to tell me all about it. What are they doing here then?”
Myles is just concerned, Jango knows that, he also knows that he doesn’t want to deal with this right now.
“They live here.”
“They live-,” Myles’s eyes widen with sudden realization. “You, Jango Fett, you adopted them!?”
“Yes.”
“You.”
“Yes.”
He stares.
Jango stares back.
“I can’t believe I lost the bet.” He says blankly.
What.
Jango’s eyes narrow.
“What bet?” He demands.
Myles makes a dismissive gesture.
“At your “going out into the galaxy and becoming a scary bounty hunter farewell party,” we got really drunk.”
“I remember.” It may have been his party but that didn’t stop him from having to drag several heavily intoxicated and nauseous friends home after.
“We bet on who was going to have kids first and how long it’d take.”
“Alright?”
“I bet on Timm, Jango, Timm! I thought he was a shoo in since he’s the oldest right?”
“Right…”
“Timm’s farming now! In the middle of nowhere! Sorry, basically in the middle of nowhere! I asked last month about his plans and he’s thinking of waiting another five-six years.”
“Alright…”
“I had good credits riding on him, Jango…” He whines.
Jango hums a little, he doubts anyone bet on him, being the youngest, even if only barely and not vocal about wanting kids.
“What happens if no one wins?”
“Huh? I don’t think we decided… it got kinda fuzzy at a certain point. I think Jaster might have started crying…”
Jango will have to investigate, it would be nice if the pot goes to him but it’s far more likely they just get their credits back.
“Anyways,” Myles shakes himself. “Can I meet them? I promise not to overwhelm them.”
Jango considers it, actually does, before shaking his head.
“Later.” He doesn’t elaborate and Myles, wisely, does not ask.
“Alright, I’ll wait.” He slumps a little in disappointment before straightening up with determination. “I’m going to be the best ba’vodu you’ve ever seen Jango.”
“Don’t let Arla hear you say that.” Jango smiles, he doesn’t doubt that Myles will love them. Obi-Wan would probably do well with someone as dedicated and genuinely positive as he is.
“Ah, I suppose I can settle for second.” Myles glances uncertainly around Jango’s shoulder and he sighs.
“We’ll talk more soon, it’s just…”
“I get it, welcome home Jango.”
Jango walks him out, warm and content.
He really should have come home more often.
-
Jango makes shig once Myles is gone since he still doesn’t have any decent tea.
This is… a setback.
He knows that it was… foolish to hope that they would be able to bounce back so quickly but…
It hurts, to watch his scrappy, determined and brave child shrink and go silent. It hurts even more knowing that even though he didn’t mean for it, it’s still on him.
He reminded them of something, he doesn’t completely understand what, although he certainly has some thoughts. Jango doesn’t understand the Force, for all that the potential apparently sits.
He can piece things together, he’s very careful to remember the shielding as he considers it. He’s even more careful not to touch the connection that apparently ties them together.
He takes deep breaths and tries to keep his feelings from boiling over.
Jango gives them a tight smile once they pad over to join him and breathes, sipping at the shig and staring off into space.
Obi-Wan’s little comments, about emotions and shielding, about the feeling of the Force, about bonds.
Obi-Wan said that Xanatos ripped their shields apart, said that they need to rebuild them, that it’s hard.
Jango does not understand, he lacks the background to truly understand but he can make some educated guesses about what it means.
Obi-Wan is vulnerable, horrifyingly so, but they are not alone.
Jango cannot fix this, he cannot fix their shields or go back and prevent what has happened to them.
He can’t even run off and kill the man responsible.
He would like to, he’d really like to but he didn’t swear to give Obi-Wan revenge. He swore to take care of them.
So, he keeps his amateur shields up as best he can until he’s finished cursing Xanatos out in his mind and starts on his own shig, letting the warmth seep into his hands and distract him from all the hurt.
Obi-Wan stays at least somewhat distant the rest of the day and Jango is worried it might last even longer.
He spends the evening making headway in the mind healing department but the sigh of relief when Obi-Wan turns up at first meal in the morning alert and visibly better is a great one.
He gives them a warm smile and brightens further when they return it.
“Would you feel up for the library this morning?” He carefully inquires. Jaster is itching to spend time with them despite his best efforts not to overwhelm.
“Alright.” There’s a little shining excitement in their eyes at the prospect so Jango sends a quick message.
Jaster shows up almost as soon as the meal is finished with a grin.
“Su cuy’gar! Are you ready?”
They nod, a slight bounce in their step the only visible sign of excitement. Jaster starts rambling as soon as they’re out the door, Obi-Wan paying close attention.
Jango sighs once they’re out of sight.
Time to seek out that support he’s been avoiding.
The armory is first on the list, the Armorer has always given him good advice and he trusts her more than most.
She tilts her head and stops to observe him once he comes in for a moment, a clear sign she is taking him seriously.
He waits for her to acknowledge him as is polite and leans against a wall to gather his thoughts. He needs help, for all that he doesn’t truly regret, it would be unfair to Obi-Wan to tread water by himself.
She finishes whatever it is she’s working on and starts fiddling with some scraps, helmet directed squarely in his direction. She’s paying attention.
Jango doesn’t know where to start.
“Welcome back, Jan’ika.”
“Thanks,” he returns.
“I’m glad you’re safe.“
He resists fidgeting himself, she’s always been very direct about these things.
“I need help.” He blurts, not even sure what he needs beyond the fact that he needs it.
She nods, body language pleased by his admittance.
“Yes, you are young Jango and so is your foundling.” He tries his best not to grumble. “It is not a bad thing to be young.” He can hear a smile. “It is a sign of strength to understand these things.”
Jango hums neutrally.
“I will always be here for you Jango, and your foundling.”
He sighs, it is… nice to have what he’s always known confirmed.
“They are… I told them I would not speak of it without their permission but… they are…” He tries his best to find words for it. “...I don’t know how to help them and I’m not sure the mind healers will know either.”
She tilts her head sharply in response and stills her hands.
“Is this a lack of faith in their abilities?” She asks carefully and he shakes his head.
“More of an area I suspect little experience.”
“I will not ask, however, know there are many secrets kept in the armory, perhaps they will be helpful once again.”
Jango nods and allows himself to relax slightly. He trusts that she will help, regardless of whether or not she actually knows what he’s talking about.
“Now, you should tell me of your adventures. I have been starved of interesting tales as of late.”
-
Jaster sends him a message after he’s finished his visit with the Armorer and a short inquiry with the mind healers. Apparently, Obi-Wan is having midmeal with him and Jango is on his own with a not at all subtle suggestion to visit Myles and Silas.
Jango rolls his eyes but does as he’s told, sending a short message and wandering over to where Myles is likely to be.
Myles bounds over the moment he sees him, grinning all the way and dragging a tired looking Silas behind him.
“Jango! C’mon, I got us food!”
He follows as instructed and stuffs a spoonful of what turns out to be Myles’s Clan tiingilar before they can start questioning him. It’s as amazing as always and it has his mind floating to better days of lazing around and joking with his friends.
“Jango.” He turns slightly to Silas. “Please tell me Jaster is actually researching trade agreements and not trying to bond with a new grandchild no one thought to tell me existed.”
Jango hums, considering, before having mercy for once.
“To be fair, the grandchild is very new. It’s not like anyone was hiding them for long.”
“Jan’ika, we have work to do! I can’t just stall Offworld forever!”
Jango’s expression darkens enough to have both Myles and Silas raising an eyebrow.
“Jango,” Silas tentatively begins. “I really can’t just-.”
He holds up a hand. “It is not my place to discuss but know that they deserve every pain and inconvenience that is coming to them.”
Silas sighs and shakes his head. “You’ll have to talk to the Mand’alor about it.”
Myles looks between them carefully and shoves a few small pastries at both of them.
“So… on a lighter note… Jan’ika! Holos! I only got a little glimpse of them yesterday and I want to see the little one!”
“Holos?”
“Yes? Of your child? Please tell me you took holos.”
“I was… busy?”
“Silas… he didn’t think of it. What are you even good for Jango? If not cute holos?”
“Jango…” Silas shoves a pastry in his mouth and adopts a dramatically put upon expression. “I’m suffering politics and you’re telling me I don’t even get cute holos out of it? I’m being tormented.”
Myles points at Jango accusingly. “You have to hang out with us to make up for this criminal lack of holos.”
“I’m already hanging out with you though?”
“Whatever, tell us about the kid, what’s their name? When can we meet them? Did they bite you? Jaster says that Chassa Mereel bit her parent when they first met.”
“Hey, that’s House Mereel’s Armorer you’re slandering, have some respect.”
“I am! Biting is a clear sign of greatness.”
Jango leans back and smiles, watching Myles and Silas devolving into a playful argument about definitions and Jaster’s trustworthiness when it comes to childhood stories.
It’s really good to be home.
Jango wakes up in the morning with no fear in his heart or miserable children barely present.
He makes first meal and considers the day, they have no plans and Arla isn’t expected for another day or so.
He smiles at Obi-Wan over meal plan approved soup and gets a suspicious look back.
“Obi-Wan?”
They hum, mouth full at the moment.
“Would you feel up to going out into the city today?”
They tilt their head and close their eyes and breathe. Jango waits, they need time to decide and he won’t rush them.
“I think so, I’d like to try.”
Jango smiles and works on finishing his soup.
“Anything we should avoid?”
“Places with misery and suffering, I’m also not… great with lots of people yet.”
“Alright, have you seen the gardens?”
They shake their head and Jango holds out a hand to take their empty bowl.
-
The gardens are beautiful, desert plants mostly and carefully maintained. A New Mandalorian project that’s met with great support from the people of Keldabe.
They’re also, blessedly, usually at least somewhat quiet.
Jango can’t imagine there’s much suffering to feel here and a glance at Obi-Wan’s face tells him he’s right.
They look about ready to find a little corner to start meditating in.
“It’s so quiet here. There’s, um, in the Temple, there’s a place called the Room of a Thousand Fountains. Calling it a room is an understatement really, there’s gardens and fountains and plants from across the galaxy.” They close their eyes with a wistful smile. “We used to hide all over the gardens and dare our crechemaster to try and find us, she always did of course. With all the giggling I don’t even think she needed the Force.”
“You miss them.” He observes.
“I do.”
Jango doesn’t say anything, not wanting to break the peaceful expression on their face.
“Would you like to come back here sometime?”
They nod. “Yes, the Force is… content here.”
“Alright.” Jango doesn’t completely understand but thinking about it, he finds the gardens have always felt safe.
-
“We can leave if you aren’t comfortable.” Jango scrutinizes their expression. “We really don’t have to stay if you don’t want too.”
He’s startled by a little giggle. “Jango! I’ll tell you, I promise! I’m fine!”
“If you’re sure…”
They bite their lip and try to smother a smile.
Jango nearly gasps at the impression of determination and trust, it feels almost like a physical thing. They carefully don’t look at him and the feeling fades.
Well, if Obi-Wan isn’t saying anything about it, neither is Jango.
“Alright, have you ever seen a Mandalorian sword dance?”
They look at him with wide excited eyes.
“No! You have those?”
Jango scoffs. “Of course we do, the very best.”
They give him a look that almost reads as a challenge and tilt their chin up.
“We’ll see.”
-
“It was kind of slow…”
“What do you mean slow?” Jango thought it was an appropriate speed, although he never had the patience for learning the art himself.
“I don’t know, I thought it would have more jumping maybe? Go faster? Jedi dances are more flowy too I guess.”
“What?”
“Dancing? We don’t do it with sabers most of the time but they teach all the little ones the basics, cause, you know, katas are all about flowing from one thing to another.” They move their arms in a smooth gesture Jango recognizes as one of the katas they showed Aayla.
“The Jedi have dances?”
“Of course! We’ve been dancing for thousands of years! It’s a great bonding activity for the younglings, it teaches us to work in harmony with ourselves and each other.”
“Huh.” Jango evaluates them a little closer. “You know these dances?”
“Some of them, they’re fun. I could show you?”
Jango considers this before remembering Tann’s face when she found out Obi-Wan had been running around cities in their condition.
“Maybe when the baar’ur clears you.”
They scowl and Jango laughs at their annoyed expression.
-
“Jango!”
“Myles.”
Myles smiles and promptly turns to Obi-Wan, completely ignoring Jango, his actual friend. “And you must be Obi-Wan!”
“Su cuy’gar.”
“Su cuy’gar ad’ika! Ah, Jan’ika! Bid copikla!”
Obi-Wan tugs on his arm lightly in question and Jango grunts.
“He’s calling you cute.”
They scrunch their nose up in protest, which does not help Myles’s cooing in the slightest.
“Don’t you have a job you could be doing?”
“Ah, you never let me have any fun.”
“Ret’ Myl’ika.”
-
“How is it?”
They smile and nod absently, sipping at the fancy shig Jango ordered with their meal.
“It’s good.”
They fall into a comfortable silence, Obi-Wan seems happy for the chance to rest and eat.
Jango startles at the small clink of utensils and looks up. Obi-Wan looks determined and he straightens up reflexively.
“I’m going to tell Jaster.” They chew on their lip.
“About…?” He can guess but he doesn’t want to be wrong.
“The Jedi.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes, I am-” they pause, thinking the answer through carefully. “It is a part of me, the Jedi made me who I am. I don’t want to hide it anymore, it feels a little like forgetting and I can’t-, I don’t want to forget. No matter what.”
Jango nods and smiles, a small one.
“Alright.”
-
They don’t last the day, not even close.
Jango tugs a listing Obi-Wan away from the sight that has his attention at the moment. It’s a public demonstration on the art of tapestries. A very passionate youth stumbles through their explanation of the process and history.
Jango smiles, he’s been doing that a lot lately, and pulls at their hand more insistently.
“We can come back another day.”
They blink up at him, clearly torn, before nodding and starting to follow.
“Are you alright?” He asks, around the third time they almost trip over their own feet.
“Hmmm?” They pause for a moment. “Just tired.”
“Good tired?”
They stifle a yawn and smile. “Yeah, thank you Jango.”
Jango squeezes their hand reassuringly and starts walking again.
Arla is… a complicated subject sometimes.
Jango loves her, of course he does, she’s strong and brave and his sister. It should be so simple and yet… there is a lifetime between them.
Eight years and countless nightmares.
Jango barely remembers their parents, a few scattered memories and the worst day of his life. When someone asks about his parents or his youth his mind usually travels to Jaster, the man who truly raised him.
Arla remembers them so clearly, with the nostalgia of a child who mourns them for who they were, not for the vague idea of what they might have been.
They do not share Jaster, for all their Clan and House affiliation might imply otherwise. Jango kept his clan with Jaster’s blessing, intending to carry on their legacy as the last of Clan Fett. Arla remained a Fett with bloody fingers and desperate determination, refusing to allow yet another piece of herself to be taken.
There is a lifetime between the two of them.
She is not the mischievous young teenager who would tease and defend him in turn he can conjure in vague memories.
He is not the annoying little boy who irritated and copied her every movement in turn she remembers.
But… she still dyes her hair the same shade of blonde as before.
He still hasn’t broken out of his habit of fidgeting when he lies to her.
There is a lifetime between them, but there is also six years Jango barely remembers and several years he hates to think about and more years he looks forward to.
She is better now, so much has changed and so much stayed the same.
No matter what, they are siblings. By blood and by choice they are together until the end.
-
He waits for her outside her recently landed ship with Obi-Wan. They fiddle with the high collar of their shirt, unhappy with anything resting on their neck but even more uncomfortable with people’s pity. They’re nervous, for all that he’s told them not to be.
She smiles at him when she makes it down the ramp and gives Obi-Wan a slightly puzzled look.
She looks... unburdened, her back straight and expression relaxed. It must have been a good trip. Jango untenses slightly at the sight, more relieved for her than he will ever say. Arla doesn't always return from her trips to their childhood home with a smile on her face and clear eyes.
“Su’cuy Jan’ika.” Her eyes dart over to Obi-Wan again and she switches to Basic. “I did not know you were coming home.”
Jango smiles, “it was not planned, and Jaster did not want to disturb you.” It is close enough to the truth that his fingers do not twitch.
She nods, suspicious but careful not to let it show.
“Who is this?” She inquires.
Jango grins, for all their storied history, he does enjoy the privilege of being an insufferable little brother sometimes.
“This, Alor Fett,” he grins even wider as she narrows her eyes at the proper title. “Is Obi-Wan Kenobi, be Fett bal be Mereel.”
“Me’ven?” She sounds bewildered. “You… adopted?”
His grin does not waver.
“Um, Su cuy’gar, Arla?” Obi-Wan chooses to speak up nervously. They look at Jango in question, probably wondering if they’re supposed to call her that and he gives them an encouraging nod.
“Su’cuy, ad’ika… It is… a surprise.”
They nod, they are not as happy with Jango’s introduction as Jango himself is. He is a little sorry for their stress, although he doesn’t regret it.
“Where did Jango find you?”
“Bandomeer? Or, space, I suppose, if you’re being technical.”
She moves closer to better examine them and they both freeze suddenly. Jango glances between them to try and figure out what’s wrong and… oh.
Oh, he should have known.
Arla and Obi-Wan stare at each other, not with fear or distaste or even joy. Instead, there is a quiet, solemn understanding.
Jango has never understood it but… Arla has gained a new awareness and perceptiveness since they rescued her. Sometimes, she looks at someone and she knows, knows they are like her. She says it is in the eyes, that there is something shattered there, something broken and kept anyway, something healing, slowly but surely.
He isn’t surprised she sees it in Obi-Wan, a child hurt so completely and so brave to survive. A child who, as far as Jango can tell, is the only reason the rebellion he walked into on Bandomeer was as successful as it was.
He isn’t surprised Obi-Wan sees it either. He swears they look through him sometimes and he is only half convinced it is the Force. They smile, just a little at her and Arla gives them a very sad smile back.
Jango wonders what she sees.
He probably doesn’t want to know.
-
They head in together and it soothes something Jango hadn’t realized needed soothing to have his clan together in one place. Jaster is around somewhere and Chassa is in the armory and his friends are somewhere in Keldabe.
His people are safe and within reach.
It is a good feeling.
Obi-Wan glances up at him, a very tentative nudge presses lightly on his mind. It’s a question and a reassurance all in one.
Jango doesn’t try to nudge them back, he doesn’t want to send them spiraling again but he does smile and reach out to ruffle their hair.
They squawk, the way an indignant teenager should and Arla rolls her eyes at him.
Jango offers them a hand.
Obi-Wan’s hand is small and warm in his own.
“Any thoughts on midmeal?” He leans down and murmurs.
“Tiingilar?” Comes the quiet reply. “To welcome Arla back?”
“I think that’s a wonderful idea, Ob’ika.”