The little one cooed happily in your arms, tiny hands reaching up as your face lit up in delight at every movement. Grogu’s wide, curious eyes seemed to brighten even more under your gaze, and for a moment, the galaxy felt impossibly small and warm, contained entirely in the soft bond between the three of you.

Din stood a few paces away, leaning casually against the wall, arms crossed—but his usual stoic mask couldn’t hide the way his chest tightened as he watched you. Every laugh, every tender movement you made toward Grogu sent a jolt through him, a reminder of the depth of his feelings he’d been trying to ignore. He had vowed to stay distant, to follow the way of the Mandalore, but watching you now, he realized how futile that was.

There was a weight in his chest, an ache he couldn’t name, a pull toward you that felt bigger than duty or honor. Slowly, deliberately, he stepped forward, breaking the distance he’d maintained, letting his hand rest lightly on your shoulder. The warmth of his touch against your arm made your head turn slightly, eyes meeting his through the glow of the dim ship lights.

“What if… we had a child? Together?” His voice was low, almost a whisper, carrying both hope and the vulnerability he rarely allowed himself to show. The question hung in the air, fragile but immense, echoing against the walls of the quiet room.

Grogu gurgled, his tiny fingers brushing against your cheek, as if sensing the tension and excitement between you. And in that moment, as you looked down at the little one in your arms and then up at Din’s earnest gaze, the possibility didn’t feel impossible—it felt like a quiet, powerful truth waiting to be embraced.

Din’s helmet reflected the soft light of the room, but even behind it, you could see the way his posture softened, the way his presence shifted, a subtle surrender to the emotions he’d been holding at bay for so long. The galaxy outside could wait—right here, right now, everything else could fade.