Suggested Listening:
Mother and Son - John Williams (from The Fabelmans) | ...morning
Old Souls - Hans Zimmer (from Inception) | ...the princess in question
Small Moves - Alan Silvestri (from Contact) | ...you're quiet
Waking up in Din's arms was an experience that would never get old.
I awoke gently — some noise in the walls of the ship perhaps shifted me out of the peaceful, dreamless sleep I'd been enjoying and into the most perfect, cozy state of in-between. Din was wrapped around me, our knees curled together and his arm folded tightly over my waist. I could feel his chest gently rising and falling against my back. I pried open one eye and gasped.
"Hey," I mumbled through a groggy smile. "How'd you get in here?"
Grogu was directly in front of my face, reaching his little green hands up to grasp the edge of the blanket. He cooed a soft, babbling good morning and made a little sound of effort as he attempted to pull himself up. I was about to reach out and help him, but to my surprise, Din shifted ever so slightly behind me and his muscular arm lifted off of my waist. Without even looking, he reached his large hand out and scooped the baby up off of the ground, lifting him onto the cot.
Grogu let out a quiet squeal of delight. He nestled against my chest, letting his large head fall softly onto the mattress with a mighty exhale. I grinned down at him, lovingly. Din's hand found mine, and he interlaced my fingers with his before wrapping our arms around Grogu's drowsy form and pulling him even closer.
An intense warmth bloomed in my chest as I let my eyes flutter shut once more. My family, I thought with a soft, sleepy smile. Every time I practiced that title in my head, it became more and more precious.
I was almost asleep again when a loud beeping emanated from the cockpit.
We're here.
Din and I rose quickly. Once armored, I carried the kid into the cockpit, leaving Din to dress fully. I made it to the pilot's chair just as we shuddered out of hyperspace, suddenly cresting over a beautiful blue and green marble of a planet.
"So, this is the Mandelorian system," I breathed to Grogu in my lap. "It's pretty, huh?"
Grogu put his little green hands on the dash and hummed in affirmation.
"This is Kalevala," came Din's voice behind me. I looked over my shoulder to see him striding in, cinching the finishing strap on his vambrace. "The homeworld of House Kryze."
"That's Bo-Katan's family?"
"It was." He sat in the copilot's chair and hit a few buttons. "Bring us down, I'll tell you where to go."
I followed his instructions, swooping us down into the planet's atmosphere. Grogu's hands clutched my sleeves, giving him the playful sensation that he was steering the ship. I smiled down at him as I flew us over a beautiful grey-blue ocean. The misty weather and lushness of the stormy colors were instantly striking.
"Bear left," instructed Din, and I did as I was told.
"Wow," I breathed as the view changed. "What's that?"
"That," said Din with a hint of pride, "is a Mandalorian castle."
It was an immense, imposing structure perched on the edge of a moss-covered cliff. It's build was similar to Mandalorian armor — utilitarian, powerful, yet artful.
"It's beautiful," I murmured, feeling a smile curl my lips. "You didn't grow up in one of those, did you?"
"Oh no," said Din, shaking his head with a low chuckle. "That's where princesses live."
The princess in question was far less enthused to see us than I'd hoped she'd be.
"Bo-Katan," called Din as we strode down a long, high-reaching stone hallway, at the end of which was a brooding figure draped moodily over a wide throne. Grogu floated beside us in his bassinet. "It is Din Djarin and Kyrani Moss."
She turned her head and locked her icy green eyes on us. I ran a hand over my hair, damp from the rain, and took a shaky breath. Bo-Katan was fascinating, powerful, impressive — and she intimidated the hell out of me.
She was silent as we came to a stop in front of her throne. My fingers clenched around the helmet balanced against my hip. I swallowed as her eyes ran over me, her expression stony. Finally, after a long, unblinking look, she spoke.
"You took the creed?"
I glanced at Din nervously, then returned my gaze to meet hers.
"No," I replied. "I've taken no creed."
"Then what empowers you to wear Mandalorian armor?"
"It was made for her," interjected Din. "By the Armorer. We came here from their covert."
A flash of anger flickered across her face, but I couldn't tell if it was about me or something more complicated.
"Shame on me," she muttered bitterly. "I should've given up being surprised by the actions of your cult long ago."
The word "cult" was dripping in venom. I felt Din bristle beside me. Grogu looked up at him curiously.
I cleared my throat, determined to make peace.
"Where are the others?" I chuckled feebly. "I'm sure Koska's come around on me by now."
Bo-Katan's twitch of the upper lip told me that I'd failed spectacularly in my attempt at levity.
"They're all gone." She looked over at Din, bitterly. "When I returned without the Darksaber, my forces melted away."
"Where is the stolen fleet?" Din sounded confused.
"Making their way through the galaxy as mercenaries," replied Bo-Katan. Then, with a piercing look of interest... "Do you still have the saber?"
My hand landed involuntarily on my weapon.
If she's still thinking of battling to the death for that thing, she's gonna have to go through me first.
"I do," answered Din.
"Then you lead them," she spat, narrowing her eyes. My grip on my blaster relaxed. "Wave that thing around and they'll do whatever you say."
"So you gave up your designs to retake Mandalore?"
"Your cult gave up on Mandalore long before the Purge," she muttered. "Where were you then?"
I snuck a glance at Din, who didn't move.
"The Children of the Watch and all the factions that came before fractured and shattered our people," she continued. "Go home. There's nothing left."
I held my breath. Finally, Din spoke.
"We are going to Mandalore so that I may bathe in the Living Waters and be forgiven for my transgressions."
Bo-Katan's eyes flicked briefly to my face on the word "transgressions". As before, I felt a twist of imposed shame in my stomach.
"And you?" She leaned forward, fixing her eyes on me. "Are you to bathe in the waters and join the Death Watch yourself?"
My eyes widened. I turned to Din.
"The Death Watch?" I whispered the question. He had never called it that. Only "The Watch" or the "Children of the Watch". Conveniently, he'd left out the more sinister half of the moniker. He half-turned to me, shifting his weight uncomfortably.
"It's complicated," he rumbled.
"Actually, it's simple," said Bo-Katan. "Your friend here is bringing you to a ravaged planet so that he may be welcomed back into a sect of Mandalorians that have brought nothing but death to our culture and shame to our reputation. You are comfortable uniting yourself with that?"
Din moved to speak for me, but I held up a hand, stopping him. I took a breath and met Bo-Katan's gaze, my fear fading a little.
"I am an outsider to the complexities of your planet's history, and as such I would never deem myself worthy of speaking on the rightness or wrongness of the Watch." My brow softened a little. She watched me, intently. "You and I don't know each other well — but we've gone to battle alongside one another. If it weren't for you, there's no way we could've saved him."
I looked down at Grogu, hovering on the other side of Din.
"I respect you," I said honestly, turning my attention back to Bo-Katan. "I do. You impress me, and beyond being an imposing fighter, I suspect you are someone of fierce integrity and deep wisdom. I respect what you have to say on the matter of your own planet. But when it comes to my family..." I glanced over at Din and Grogu again, blushing a little — the term still felt so new. "... I will do what is necessary, no matter how dangerous the planet may be."
Din looked over at me, his shoulders back and his head high. Pride, I thought warmly. He's looking at me with pride.
"Then you are a fool," murmured Bo-Katan.
"Perhaps," I replied, looking back at her. "But Din's faith is important to him, which means it's important to me."
I think it was the use of his real name that caused the penny to drop. Bo-Katan's eyes flicked between Din and I as she pieced our relationship together. I saw one corner of her mouth curl up ever so slightly in a dull smile.
"I'd say I was surprised," she said, "but I'd be lying."
A moment passed. Grogu babbled in his bassinet. Bo-Katan's face hardened once more.
"There's nothing magic about the mines of Mandalore. They supplied Beskar ore to our ancestors and the rest is superstition. That planet has been ravaged, plundered, and poisoned. You're going on a fool's errand."
"You said that the curse was a lie," said Din shrewdly. "Make up your mind."
Bo-Katan narrowed her eyes.
"Why are you here?"
Din and I exchanged a look.
"We came to say that we'd like to join your cause," he said cautiously. "Reuniting Mandalore. Reclaiming it. My covert seems interested in reconciliation... and so are we."
"You have all you need to do that yourself," she spat.
"We thought you might like to come," I said, venturing a tentative smile. "See what's there for yourself."
She looked like her patience was wearing thin. She leaned back in her throne and sighed wearily.
"If you want to go to the mines, be my guest. They're beneath the civic center in the city of Sundari. But you won't find me there."
"Fair enough," rumbled Din after a moment. "Thank you."
We turned to go. As we took our first steps down the long corridor, Din turned and spoke over his shoulder.
"We'll find out for sure if the planet is really poisoned."
As our steps echoed, I heard Bo-Katan mutter a quiet, resolved reply.
"Goodbye, Din Djarin."
It sounded final.
Back on the Arrowhead, we began our journey back out of Kalevala's atmosphere. I put my focus on the controls, avoiding eye contact with Din and keeping quiet. Truthfully, I was shaken by the interaction. There was a lot of information swirling around in my head.
The Death Watch, I thought as my mouth went dry. And I thought I was the one with the more violent background.
The political history of this planet and it's people got more complex and dark by the day, and I couldn't shake the feeling that as much as I loved and trusted Din... I might be getting in a bit over my head here.
Who am I to meddle in cultural affairs I can't even begin to understand?
"You're quiet."
Din's voice made me jump. He was sitting in the copilot's seat, moving Grogu's hand away from a lever. I plugged in a few coordinates and pulled back the throttle.
"I'm just..." I sighed. "I'm starting to worry, Din."
"About Mandalore?" He tilted his head, trying to catch my eye. "I wouldn't take you and Grogu if I wasn't confident it was safe. I promise."
"That isn't something you can promise, though." I turned to look at him. "Look, I want to go. I want to do this with you. But there's been an awful lot of talk about poisoned planets and cults in the last couple of days and I'm a little overwhelmed."
He let out a defeated exhale and leaned back in his seat.
"I'm sorry," he murmured. "I'm sorry my world is such a mess."
"Hey," I said softly, swiveling my chair to face him. "My aunt sold me out to my father who tried to kill me, and then tried to kill you, and then my brother would've killed me if you hadn't stopped him, and then he spat on your boots. Remember?"
"Viscerally," he replied drily.
"You and I... we both know what it's like to come from someplace dark."
Din nodded, pulling Grogu absent-mindedly onto his lap. I hesitated for a moment, not wanting to make him uncomfortable, but also wrestling with my own discomfort.
"I have to ask..." I swallowed as he looked back up at me. "The Watch. Your people. Is it... a cult?"
"It's a religious sect," he answered. "Some outsiders might not understand it."
I caught a fleeting flicker of annoyance in his tone — like I'd failed some sort of test by asking that question. I tried not to take it personally, but something in my stomach tightened.
"And did they... do what Bo-Katan said?"
Din sighed, frustrated.
"I'm sorry," I said, leaning forward on my knees. "I know it's uncomfortable, but I have to ask, Din."
"The history of Mandalore is complicated," he said for the thousandth time, like it was rote. "The Watch has taken many shapes over many years. Some more... unfortunate than others. But my people — my beliefs — are bound by shared values. Loyalty. Community. Family."
"Weapons," I added, trying to sound as neutral as possible.
"Yes," nodded Din, his tone bordering on harsh.
I raised an eyebrow, taken aback.
"Sorry," muttered Din, looking at the floor. "I'm sorry."
"I just want to understand," I said carefully.
The rest went unspoken: If I'm going to help you reconsecrate yourself and risk losing our ability to touch, I need to know what I'm doing it for.
"There are tenets of Mandalorian life," he said after a deep breath. His voice was gentler, more patient. "The Resol'nare. Ba'jur: Raise your children as Mandalorians. Beskar'gam: Wear the armor of a Mandalorian. Ara'nov: Defend yourself and your family. Aliit: Contribute to the welfare of the clan. Mando'a: Speak the Mandalorian Language. Mand'alor: When called upon by Mandalore, rally to his cause. This is the way." He took another breath. "So you can see why weapons matter. If we are to be ready to rally for our planet — or for any Mandalorians who call upon us for help — we need to be armed and well-taught."
"That makes sense," I nodded, listening intently. And it did, even though it took me a moment to process it all.
Raise your children as Mandalorians, I thought. I wonder what that means for Grogu.
"Then there are factions of Mandalorians," he continued. "You know I was a foundling taken in by the Watch. They raised me with these principals, but with a particular set of guiding rules that were specific to our creed — that Beskar'gam also included our helmets. That keeping our helmets on always was a sign of the highest devotion to the ancient way of Mandalore. And that removing it—" He hesitated for a moment, looking out through the viewport. "Removing one's helmet meant one had broken a vow. Let something else become more important than one's devotion to the creed."
There was something in his voice, something faraway and ponderous that I couldn't distinguish — like his mind was on something very specific, but he had no intention of speaking to it out loud.
After a moment, he turned to me again. When he spoke, his voice was low and vulnerable.
"I know its a lot. And I know... I'm not always the best at saying what needs to be said."
"Thank you," I whispered, warmly. "Thank you for explaining."
"You deserve to understand."
We looked at each other for a long moment as Grogu began to doze in Din's arms.
Suddenly, something out of the viewport snagged my eye.
"Dank Farrik," I breathed, staring in awe. "Is that it?"
A large planet sprawled ahead of us, the majority of it shrouded by shadow. The surface was a swirl of grey-green land and thick white clouds, spattered with flashes of thunderstorms below.
"That's it," murmured Din, looking down at it seriously.
"Here," I said, standing up and scooping Grogu out of Din's arms. He squealed as he was jostled from sleep. "You take the reins. You know the way."
He took the pilot's seat and began bringing the ship down into the atmosphere.
"Here we go," I said quietly, hugging Grogu to me.
Without taking his eyes off of the navigation systems, Din pulled one glove off. He reached over and took my hand, giving it a tight squeeze. The rough skin of his scarred hand sent a wave of affection through my chest. He looked over at me.
"Here we go."