The Child's Keeper: A Mandalorian FanFiction

Between Seasons, Episode 5: The Past

When Lys returned to the house, she found Din sitting on the ground, the child now playing between his outstretched legs as he relaxed against the wall.

Lawrence had moved to a few of the cushions, sitting and speaking with Din as the three children eyed the child curiously with wide eyes.

Din looked up when Lys walked in, his helmet tilting slightly as he noticed she was alone.

"Corinthia is taking a walk," Lys said as she approached the little group.

She could feel her father's gaze on her face as she slid down the wall, shoulder to shoulder with Din. She could feel her father's questions, and she knew he could feel the turbulence within her.

As she sat, she felt Din's arm sneak around behind her, tracing her back, wanting to comfort her before he removed it. 

She took great relief in the gesture, taking a deep breath and closing her eyes from a moment, allowing her anger and blinding rage to dissipate before she opened them again. She looked over at Din and gave him a half-hearted smile before turning to watch the child. The child seemed to feel her stress and waddled over to her, his hands outstretched as he allowed her to pick him up.

Lys cooed at him, wiggling his finger in his face for a moment before her father spoke.

"Is he- your child?"

"In a way," Lys said. "We care for him together," she looked up at Din, a soft expression appearing on her face. It was clear that Din and the child had become her safe place.

"He was captured by mercenaries, and I was bought in order to care from him. Then we were rescued by the Mandalorian and have been together ever since."

"Din," the Mandalorian spoke up from beside her, his modulated voice bringing her surprised expression to look up at his face. "It's alright if your family knows my name," he nodded.

"Din," Lawrence hummed, the soft glances and fleeting touches not going unnoticed by her father. He could tell that Lys cared for the man beside her, and he sighed. "You've grown up, my little Lysa," he said. "I am so sorry I could not be there with you when you needed me. I failed you as a father."

Lys bit her cheek to keep tears from filling her eyes. He was right, he hadn't come for her. She would have thought any father would have come after even a rebellious daughter. But if he had come and found her, she would have never met the people she loved now. She looked around at the comfort of the small home. Her pain was worth the love she had rightfully received after all these years. She felt warm and comforted, and so she looked up at her father.

"Don't worry, Baba, I will always love you," she said. "You're my father, and you're here now. That is more than enough."

Lys' mind drifted over to the letter. "Do you still have the letter I left?" She asked. "I would like to read it again for myself."

Lawrence nodded and stood, walking slowly out of the room, away from the group.

"Are you the one Father has always told us about?" A voice asked.

Lys looked over to see the older girl was sitting in front of her brothers, clearly the leader of the group. She was mature for her age, holding the weight of responsibility on her shoulders well. She was the spitting image of Lys, her eyes and hair reflecting the same bravery that Lys had at that age.

"I don't know what he has told you," Lys said. "But, yes. I was born many years before you were. My mother passed away some time later, and I left."

"But why did you leave?" The girl asked.