the jabberwock cometh

"But I'd say your best bet will be homeschooling," Qui-Gon Jin is saying. "I had to switch myself, back when the kids were school age. It is a commitment, but a worthy one."

His long biker style ponytail is offset by the very lumpy and quite frankly ugly knit sweater he wears, and the thick plastic rims of his glasses. His kitchen door, which he had to duck a little to step through, stands open to let in the pale fall air and also to enhance the acoustics of the relative chaos running through the rest of his house. It seems to be full of people -- not too hard to guess who, given the line up of lopsided family photos lining the wall next to the ancient rain poncho and the three mismatched cars in the driveway -- which is … unexpected. When Din met Bo Katan's old college friend at the most recent political rally she’d dragged (read: blackmailed) him into attending, he had opened up out of desperation; even Bo Katan’s referrals were worth following up on when he had no other options. Except all Ahsoka Tano said, sipping the juice box she’d pilfered from the drinks table while Paz droned on about clan solidarity at the podium, was, You know, I think you’d do really well to talk to my dad. 

And now here he is. Drinking apple tea out of definitely-homemade clay mugs and discussing educational philosophy with a total stranger, who looks like someone spliced Sons of Anarchy with like, an English teacher (Cara has been making him catch up on modern media). At least Greef and Cara were okay to babysit Grogu for the hour; otherwise Din wouldn’t know what to do at all.

Ahsoka’s foster father is still talking, it seems.

“Now, granted, it can be overwhelming. You could always try an alternative Montessori type institution – my eldest Obi-Wan’s working in that these days, though I can’t say I completely hold with their methods. But a boy with his ability and constitution, he might do fine in that sort of environment.”

“He’s just,” Din tries to come up with the words, “I don’t want him to feel like -- out of place.” Omera said nonverbal at six wasn’t unheard of, especially given none of them knew, really, what had happened before Din found him, but –

“Always tricky at that age,” Qui-Gon agrees wisely. He takes a long sip from his cooling cup while a loud thundering of footsteps sounds on the staircase just outside the kitchen door and one of the voices that had been going on in the background becomes more clearly audible, saying,

“Well, I wouldn’t have lost it if you didn’t leave all your old things in my room!”

“You own a literal apartment with your literal wife and children, Anakin!” calls back a second voice, in cheerful, overloud tones. This voice, at least, Din recognizes, “And I can use your old room for storage if I want to, Qui-Gon said so –”

“Please tell Snips to use Obi-Wan’s room for storage next time!” calls the first voice, matching that same easy cheerfulness and somewhat more directly aimed at the kitchen. 

Amidst all this a teenaged girl with too much hair wanders in, picks up and bites into one of the leftover apples on the counter beside the stove, then says, proclaimative,

“Dad lost his screwdriver again.”

Qui-Gon gives Din a complicatedly fond look, like, Kids.