Chapter Text
Bexar County, Texas – September 1870, five years since the end of the American Civil War
The fire spat and crackled as Din Djarin threw yet another small log into the crumbling pile, the smell of burning cedarwood filling his nostrils. Perhaps he could’ve taken a small bit of his savings and spent the night at an inn, but then he wouldn’t be resting underneath a blanket of stars that seemed to go on for eternity and relishing the gentle Texas breeze that rustled his dark curls. No bed, no roof ever compared to the nights when he would fall asleep to the gentle lights of faraway worlds and the sounds of crickets singing in the grass.
Razor knickered softly, stirring Din out of his silent reverie. “Hey, girl. ‘m sorry for forgetting. Will you forgive me?” he asked as he reached into his small knapsack and pulled out a perfectly round, bright red apple. Before he could reach up and offer the fruit to the horse, Razor took the entire apple out of his hand; it was gone in seconds. “I’ll take that as a yes.”
He sighed deeply as Razor moved back to her original place at the stake where he’d tied her up just a little bit before starting the fire and setting up camp. Din couldn’t help but admit a small bit of affection for the mare. He wondered just how many miles they stomped across the prairies together. He wondered just how many more miles she had left in her before he had to say goodbye – he hoped that he would know when she got tired enough so he could take her to a nice pasture and let her live out her days.
Nights like this – with the waxing moon casting an eerie light over the hills and waving grass – put him on edge. He could see out for miles, but so could anyone or anything else. It was a nightly ritual, checking and cleaning every single weapon in his arsenal, but the feeling of unease made him double and triple check every function until he felt satisfied. Din prayed the small hillside he chose for the campsite provided the cover he needed. Dawn was only a few hours away.
Din stretched out on his camp roll and tilted his Stetson over his face before tightening the poncho around his broad frame. He thought about all the things he had to do tomorrow once he made it into San Antonio proper, but fatigue pulled him out of his own mind and pushed him into sleep.
“Hey, vaquero! Rise and shine!”
Din woke to a not-so-gentle poke to the ribs on his left side and the smell of an extinguished fire. Slowly reaching up with his left hand, he pulled his hat down past his eyes and over his face.
Well, at least someone waited until dawn to wake me up, Din thought as his eyes narrowed at the man that stood over him. He briefly wondered where the hell this person came from, but he knew his mind wasn’t at the capacity to worry about such things at that very moment.
“I certainly hate to interrupt your dreams, but I was riding by and saw that beautiful horse you’ve got there,” the young man said as he stood over Din. He looked young, maybe just shy of nineteen. “She’s pretty big for a quarter horse, but I’m sure she’ll ride just fine. How much you want for her?”
“Not for sale,” Din grumbled as he pulled his hat back over his face. “And I’m not a cowboy, gringo. Take your business elsewhere.”
He heard the young man scoff and make some sort of shuffling noise. He felt the hairs on the back of his neck raise; in response, he moved his other hand to the Colt Army pistol on his right holster. Slowly pulling it free from its leather hold, Din sat the pistol’s grip on his thigh with the barrel pointed up at where he guessed the young man stood. He didn’t know what the kid planned, and he didn’t want to find out.
“What’s to say I don’t just take the horse, then?”
A slow, mechanical click rang through the morning air.
“If you value your legs, you’ll leave now,” Din replied. “Horse theft’s a felony in Texas, kid. You think anyone’s gonna cry if I bring you in with a .44 caliber hole in the knee?”
“Fuck you, man,” the young man whimpered. “I was just joking. It wasn’t that serious.”
“Don’t care, didn’t ask,” Din spat. “You got five seconds before the sun hits something it shouldn’t hit.”
A stifled cry and a shuffle of feet told Din that the threat worked. He heard a different set of hooves – far too light to belong to Razor – take off at a significant gait, and once they receded in the distance, Din finally sat up off his roll.
He groaned as he stretched his limbs out from underneath his poncho and felt several joints pop from the strain. As he sat up, he took in his surroundings – Razor still on her lead, the fire nothing but glowing embers, and the sun coming up ever so slightly over the eastern horizon. Over a small hillcrest to the north, he spotted an isolated band of rain far off in the distance. He felt a slight chill in the late summer air; the brief weeks of autumn were soon upon them and he knew he didn’t have much in the way of warm clothing.
Yet another thing to spend money on, Din thought as he gathered himself and his things off the ground.
The morning’s excitement all but forgotten, Din fell into a steady routine of packing Razor up and destroying any significant evidence of his small campsite – a cautious measure he never regretted taking the time to perform. With the last of his things loaded, Din mounted Razor’s saddle and steered her west at an easy pace.
The sun at Din’s back warmed him through and hurried him on to his destination. He took a deep breath of the sharp, clean air and braced himself for the onslaught of noise and people that awaited him.
San Antonio hadn’t changed much, Din thought as he walked through the town with Razor’s leads in his hand. It had been a few months since he’d been back in the city, and it was about as packed and busy as ever. Dust hovered in a steady cloud above the unpaved roads as people and horses milled about the streets, leaving everything in sight with an odd tan veneer. He pulled the bandana he wore around his neck up over his face to keep him from breathing in too much dust; he also appreciated the anonymity it gave him in the already too crowded city.
Turning down a side street, Din made his way through the thick crowds towards a small, nondescript saloon – he knew it would be the one place he could find the marshal during the day. He finally arrived at the red swinging doors and pushed his way inside, eyes squinting to adjust to the sudden change in lighting.
“Where’s the bodies, Mando?”
Din looked out above the heads of the crowded saloon to see Marshal Greef Karga sitting at his usual table alone. A hand went up to wave him over.
“Good to see you, too, Marshal,” Din shot back. He pulled the bandana off his face as he walked through the crowd.
Marshal Karga laughed as he gestured towards an empty chair across from his position. “Take a load off, Mando – I think you’ve earned a cold one.” The older man looked over at the bar and made some sort of hand sign to the bartender. “How’d the hunt go? And don’t skimp out on the details.”
Din shot him a withering look. “Have I ever been a storyteller, Marshal?”
“Fair enough,” Marshal Karga laughed. The barmaid arrived with a pint of whatever it was the bartender had on tap.
“Already turned in the bodies over to the marshal in Bell County,” Din said as he accepted the beer. “I hate putting too much weight on Razor; she’s strong, but carrying all those carcasses means we have to stop more. Money’s the same whether I collected it in Belton or here.”
Marshal Karga only laughed as he pulled an already rolled cigarette out of his front shirt pocket. “Well, if you’re looking for cash, I have a job that’s a little outside your normal parameters. Pays well, but it’s not what you’re used to doing.”
“Money’s money,” Din shrugged. “What’s the deal?”
“You have to keep someone alive,” Marshal Karga said. “It’s a part-bodyguard, part-trail guide mission. You get half the payment up front, get the other half when you deliver the person to their destination. It’s gotta be easier than what you’ve been doing.”
Din leaned back in his chair and folded his arms against his chest. “I suppose that’s not so bad. What’s the payout?”
“I’ll let him tell you himself,” Marshal Karga replied. “Hey, Mr. Skywalker! Over here!”
Din’s eyes shot over to the bar where a young man nearly dropped his beer in surprise. The wiry man didn’t look like much, but Din looked at his hands and knew this was a man used to hard work. To look at his face, however, showed nothing of the sort – the man’s large blue eyes belied a sort of innocence and youth that struck Din as almost too open and honest.
The young man hopped off his stool and carried his beer to the table, pulling out the empty seat in between Karga and Din. Din took in his overall appearance – a simple button-down cotton shirt and corduroy pants, nothing that spoke of any wealth – and wondered what kind of person could dress like that and be able to pay for his services.
“Marshal Karga, thank you so much for the introduction,” the young man said. He turned to Din and stuck out his hand. “Name’s Luke Skywalker, friend. I’m guessing you’re the man that Marshal Karga told me about – Din D-Jarin?”
Din took the man’s hand in his own. “The ‘D’ in Djarin is silent,” he replied.
“Oh, I’m sorry. That’s a real interesting name, sir. Where did it come from?” Luke asked.
Din fell silent for a beat. “Never asked, I suppose. What kind of name is ‘Skywalker’?”
“Never asked,” Luke shot back with a smirk.
Marshal Karga shot a look between the two men. “Well, I guess you two are already on a good foot. I’ll go ahead and let y’all be, but you should stop by the station and let me know you’re heading out.” He gave them both a polite nod as he rose from the table and headed towards the door.
Luke shot him a small salute and turned his attention back to Din. “The marshal tells me you’re the best of the best out here, and I’m excited to get going on this ride. I’m trying to head out to a small town out in west Texas for a new position, and there’s no way I wanted to try and make the journey on my own. This is my first time in Texas and I’m sure I’d get lost once I stepped foot out of San Antonio. I’m offering $1000 now and $1000 when we get there – does that sound fair to you?”
Din just blinked at the man in surprise. Two thousand dollars didn’t seem like much compared to the bounties he pulled in before coming back to town, but for something as low effort as heading to the other side of the state, it would be about the easiest payday he’d had in a long time.
“What kind of job do you have waiting for you that lets a man drop that kind of cash out of the blue?”
“I’m an engineer,” Luke explained. “I’m heading out to a town that’s looking at a major oil boom and they want to expand their infrastructure – bridges, roads, you name it. Did you ask because you’re curious, or if I’m good for the money?”
“Maybe a little of both, I guess,” Din shrugged. “Can’t blame me for being a little curious.”
“No, I suppose not.” Luke paused to take another draft of his beer. “I guess I’d be curious were I in your position, too. I promise it’s a real job. In fact, I’d be willing to let you hold onto this during the journey – consider it insurance, of a kind.” He reached into his shirt and pulled out a small chain that a heavy ring dangled from like a pendulum. “This is my West Point class ring – it’s one of the only valuable things I have, so I guess this would be the best thing to use.”
Din quickly reached out and shoved the necklace back into the younger man’s shirt, ignoring the brush of his fingers against the hard planes of his chest. “Will you put that away? Flashing shit like that will definitely get you robbed.”
If Din had looked close enough, he would’ve noticed the slightest hint of a flush across the apples of Luke’s cheeks. “Jeez, I’m sorry. See, I really do need a guide – I’m a little too trusting.”
“And how do you know you can trust me?”
“You just seem like a good man,” Luke said. “Most people would’ve just let me become a target, but you didn’t. I think that’s as good a judge of character as any.”
“So, were you trying to offer up your ring as insurance, or were you just trying to test my character?” Din narrowed his eyes, ever so slightly annoyed. It wasn’t unusual to have marks test him, but he never got such tests from clients.
“Maybe a little bit of both.” Luke’s smile somehow stretched even wider and the room brightened up just a bit.
Din could only huff out a small bit of a laugh at that.
So, are you in, Mr. Djarin?”
“Hard to say no to easy money,” Din said, “but for that kind of cash, you should be able to take a stagecoach out that way. Why bother having me tag along?”
“I thought about that,” Luke replied, “but that was before I took a stagecoach here from St. Louis. I would much rather be on a horse for a year than to be in another box. My back hurts just thinking about it.”
Din hummed in response. “You ride much? It won’t be easy.”
“Sir, I was practically born on a horse,” Luke said with a grin. “I was trained by the best in all forms of horsemanship, and I served with the finest cavalrymen in the United States Army.”
Din raised an eyebrow at that. “A soldier, huh? Well, I guess saddle soreness won’t be a problem for you.”
Luke spat out a quick laugh at that. “You’re hilarious, mister.”
“So I’ve been told,” Din huffed. “I assume you’re going to have to buy a horse while you’re here.”
“You would be correct. Do you know of a good place to get a horse, by the way?” the younger man asked. “I’m sure I could find a place, but if a local makes the introduction…”
“Yeah, I know someone – you’d better mind yourself when you’re around her. She senses weakness, and she will absolutely try to pull one over on a city mouse like yourself,” Din warned.
“I’m sure if I have my country mouse cousin there, it won’t be so bad,” Luke replied. A wry grin split across his face as he took another swig of a beer that already seemed to lose its fizz.
Din shot him a sideways glance. “You haven’t met Peli Motto.”
Peli Motto’s stables weren’t spectacular, nor did they offer a selection much different than any other in San Antonio, but if Din knew what was good for him, he’d continue to do business there for as long as he stayed in the city. Peli owned a temper bigger than her own small frame could carry at times, and would happily unload it on anyone who wanted to try and shoulder it.
“I’m still trying to buy that quarter horse back from you, Mando,” Peli yelled the moment Din and Luke entered the stables. “How much you want for her?”
“Not for sale,” Din grumbled. “Never has been, never will be.”
“You’re no fun!” Peli shouted back at him. “If you’re not here to sell me that horse, then what the hell do you want?”
“We’re here for this guy,” Din pointed towards Luke, who already had a hand out in greeting. Before Luke could reach Peli, Din put his hand on Luke’s bicep and pulled him aside.
“What are you – “
“Listen up if you want to get something out of this deal,” said Din, cutting him off. “You said you know about horses – this is the time to lay it on. Peli Motto will not sell a horse to just anyone, so be brief, be brilliant, and let’s be gone.”
Luke simply stared back into Din’s dark eyes and dumbly nodded in assent. The older man released his grip on Luke’s arm and nodded his head in Peli’s direction, silently willing him to introduce himself.
“Hello, there! Din tells me you’re the best person in town to ask about buying a horse,” Luke said with an easy smile on his face. “I’m Luke Skywalker, and I – “
“Yeah, whatever,” Peli shrugged. “What are you looking for? And if you say, ‘a nice one,’ I don’t care who you walked in with – you can turn around right now.”
Luke remained unperturbed and pressed on. “Do you have a Morgan, ma’am? They’re my favorite breed and I love their temperament. I haven’t been on one in five years or so, but I miss them dearly. I’m comfortable riding a horse of any height, but if you have one within fourteen hands, that would be perfect.”
The stable mistress’ entire demeanor shifted and she looked at him with a curious expression. “I think I may just have the horse you need,” she replied. “He’s a four-year-old stallion that loves to run and loves attention. If you can keep up with him, I’d be willing to sell him for a decent price.”
His eyes lit up as he reached out his hand. “Ma’am, I would be happy to look at your horse.”
Peli shook his hand – something that surprised Din entirely. He remembered having to demonstrate that he knew how to shoe a horse before she even let him back into the stables. Then again, that may have been a very successful attempt at free labor, he thought as he watched the two of them move out into one of the corrals.
“Look, isn’t he beautiful?” asked Peli as she called out to the horse currently roaming around the pen. The horse, a chestnut Morgan, trotted over to her outreached hand and buried his face in her palm. Peli stroked a hand through the horse’s mane and cooed at him for a moment before turning her attention back to Luke. “What do you think you’ll name him?”
“Red Five,” Luke replied, almost too quickly. “My first horse was Red, and I just named all my other horses after her. Therefore, Red Five.”
She snorted out a soft laugh. “Well, that’s as good a name as any, I suppose.”
Din continued to look on as Luke and Peli animatedly talked about everything horse, which eventually culminated in what looked to be some sort of sale of both a horse and the tack set for the journey ahead. At last, as the sun hovered low in the sky, it was time to leave the stables and wave their goodbyes to the mistress before finally – finally – leaving back towards the main part of town. They’d agreed to meet up outside of Luke’s inn at first light, and using the rest of the evening for their own personal preparations prior to kicking off the first leg of the journey.
Din had one major stop before the night ended, and he simply couldn’t be late.
As the last rays of sun cut through buildings and windows in tow, Din arrived at a black door nestled in a corner of a corner in an alley that only someone who knew what they were looking for would find. He knocked five times and waited for an answer.
A small, muffled voice spoke from behind the door. “’Whether you turn to the right or to the left, your ears will hear a voice behind you, saying…’”
“’This is the way – walk in it’,” Din replied in rote memorization. Three locks clicked loose and the door swung open. A young girl of no more than ten years of age stood on the other side with a large smile on her face.
“Welcome back, sir. Mother Adelita’s been waiting for you,” the child said as she held the door open.
Din reached out a large hand and ruffled the girl’s hair, shutting the door behind him in the process. “Thank you, Rey. Go on and play; I’ll lock up the door for you.”
Rey reached out and grabbed his hand from her hair. “I promised Mother Adelita I’d take you straight to her office – she says you’ll get distracted by the other children and she won’t see you again until you come back from another job. Now, come on!” She tugged on his hand and pulled him through the foyer to take him down the hall.
“I know where her office is, mija,” Din laughed. “I think I’ll be alright.”
Rey only pulled harder on his arm. “But I promised. We waited this whole time! It felt like forever.”
Din bent down to sweep the young girl up into his arms and settle her small frame on his hip. “How about I take you to Adelita, instead?”
“I’m too big to get carried now, Mister,” Rey pouted as she snuggled into his arms. “I have responsibilities.”
Din held her a little tighter in his arms in response. “Mija, you’ll never be too big for me to pick you up. Now, let’s go see what Adelita wants.”
He walked softly down the hall with his bundle in tow until he reached the end of the path to the door on the left. Din thought about how much this door used to scare him as a child – he never ended up at the nun’s office for doing something right, after all. With some age and a drastic height change, the little world of the cloistered abbey felt incredibly odd and familiar all at once. He raised his hand to knock on the door, but it swung open before he had the chance.
“Mr. Djarin, you may enter,” a calm, authoritative voice said from around the door jamb.
As he pushed his way inside, he spotted the woman that raised him from the time he was about Rey’s age and he couldn’t help but smile. Though he would remain slightly terrified of her for the rest of his life, he always looked to Mother Adelita as his own mother – she was the only sort of parent he’d ever known.
“Hello, Mother,” he said with a soft tone. “It’s been a while.”
“And I see you’ve brought a guest that should’ve brought you,” she replied with a raised eyebrow. “Rey, you’re just as bad as the younger children. Mr. Djarin is not a tree, and you cannot climb him whenever you wish.”
“It’s my fault, Mother,” Din sighed.
“You and orphans, I swear,” Adelita said, both exasperated and just a little wistful. “Rey, you may leave us now. I’d like to talk to Mr. Djarin alone.”
Din let the girl slip from his hold and gently let her down on the ground. She smiled up at him one last time before running back out of the door and off to who knew where.
“Please sit down,” Mother Adelita said as she waved towards a chair that sat in front of our desk. “How was your hunt, dear?”
Din reached into the small messenger bag draped across his chest and over his shoulder. He pulled out a ridiculously large stack of dollar bills bound with twine and placed it on her desk. “Successful. That should be about $5000, minus a few dollars I had to spend on some essentials.”
The abbess said nothing as she pulled the stack towards her and removed some bills off the top of the stack; she shuffled through them and pushed them back towards Din. “And this should be $500, mijo.”
Din shook his head. “Ma’am, that’s too much. Please, save it for the children.”
“You need the money for your travels – I won’t hear of a child of this abbey having to scrounge around for anything,” she sniffed in reply. “You’ve earned this much, at the very least. The money you’ve brought in will last the children for quite a while.”
He glanced at her hands – still rough with calluses from years of working as a blacksmith to support her order – and wondered just how hard she had to work before he took up his current career and started providing for the children. He’d work a lifetime to repay his debt to her.
“If you insist, ma’am,” he replied as he took the bills and stuffed them back into his bag. He’d hide them into different pockets and places later.
“Of course, I do. Are you heading out on another hunt, soon?” Her world-weary eyes settled on him and it made him feel like he was ten years old again, sitting in the very chair he would receive his penitence for getting into yet another fight.
“Not a hunt, Mother – a trail guide mission. I stand to bring back another couple thousand for the orphans once I return,” he said.
Adelita hummed. “It’s not worth as much as your other missions, but I cannot fault you for taking the task. Guiding the lost is as much a part of the Way as hunting the wicked.”
Din could only nod in response. “I leave tomorrow morning at first light.”
“Then we’ll put on something good for dinner tonight – I think everyone’s earned it,” Adelita said. “You may stay here for the night; ask Brother Vizsla for some bedding. Go take a bath, too – I won’t let you sit at the table unless you’re clean.”
He only gave her another soft smile as he picked himself off the chair and out to the rest of the abbey. Before he knew it, a swarm of children nearly bowled Din’s solid frame right off his feet and on his back. Laughs and excited squeals filled the air as he steadied himself and greeted every child he could.
No place ever quite felt like home for Din Djarin – he never felt like he deserved one – but he took whatever home he could find and made it his own, even for just a short while.
The next morning, Din arrived just a few minutes before the appointed time and place and watched the sun peek out over the tops of the downtown landmarks. He waited for only a few moments before he spotted his charge coming around the corner with his own steed’s reins in his hands. Sunlight caught Luke’s blonde hair just so and cast a nearly divine glow around him, dampened only by his black Stetson.
“You ready, Skywalker?” Din asked as he checked Razor’s saddle straps and looked for any tears in the leather in the leads. “Now’s the time to ask – there aren’t too many stops between here and the next big town.”
Luke strolled up to Din’s side with Red’s saddle already strapped down. “We’re ready to go whenever you are, mister.”
A small glint of light caught Din’s eye. “Did you buy new boots?”
“I did – my old ones were getting too worn out and I figured starting a new journey with a new pair of boots maybe meant good luck,” Luke said, sticking out his feet to show off the dark brown patina. “Got ‘em on sale, too.”
“You’re probably going to regret that,” Din scoffed. “Your feet will kill you for not breaking them in before we left.”
Luke shot a glare at him. “You may be the most critical person I’ve ever met, Mr. Djarin. Are you perhaps in league with my sister? She also hates every decision I make; I think the two of you would get along like a house on fire.”
“Well, if she’s the sort of woman that would avoid wearing new boots on a new journey, I suppose we’d get along famously,” Din shot back.
The younger man gaped at him. “Touché. I will ask that the two of you never meet – for my own sanity.”
Din let the slightest of smiles escape his lips as he lifted himself up on Razor. While astride the saddle, he took one last time to check his ammunition in his pouches, the functions on every weapon, and the integrity of all his holsters. He saved his 1866 Winchester rifle for last, finally placing it in the saddle scabbard that hung to his right. After one last test of the reins, Din felt like he could take on the open road – and whatever else he faced – yet again.
“Ready, cowboy?”
“Not a cowboy, Skywalker.”
“Fine. Can we get on the road, O Great Bounty Hunter, Din Djarin the Magnificent?”
Din said nothing as he reached into a saddlebag and pulled out a small, green apple. He tossed it past Red’s nose and watched it roll away on the ground. He also watched as Red tore away from Luke’s grasp and chased after the fruit.
“That is not fair! Red, come back!”
After a few moments of trying to get Red to move after he finally got the apple from the ground and took his time eating it, Luke made his way back to Din. “I hope you enjoyed that.”
“Immensely. Let’s go, shall we? Daylight’s burning.”
The pair fell into companionable silence as they took off on the northwestern trail leading out of San Antonio towards Austin.