Chapter 25

The band of raiders returned victoriously to Mos Pelgo and were immediately greeted with cheers from their friends and family. Men, women, and children swarmed the streets. Din ignored all of them, his visual processors tracked Zo as she jumped off Cobb's bantha and pushed through the jostling crowd toward the group of armed women entrusted to keep Grogu and the other children safe. The child jumped into her arms, and everything else ceased to exist as she rained kisses across his green forehead and pointy ears. He could have pushed through the crowd, stood beside them, and shared the tender familial moment. But he didn't. Prideful, stubborn mule of a man that he was. The defeat of losing Zo's hand to Cobb still stung, making the sea of excited people between them a much-needed buffer to soothe his ego. The exhaustion and permanent weight of frustration, now heavier than ever after he let Cobb sweep Zo off her weary feet, rooted him into the sand. He didn't move until Zo was ushered away from the crowd and into one of the homes.

A few hours later, Mos Pelgo was truly alive for the first time since their liberation from the Mining Guild. The sounds of celebration replaced the thick hush of pending dread that once permeated the sand itself. Musicians dusted off their long silent instruments and played in the town square; the joyful melodies echoed across the Dune Sea without fear of waking a slumbering beast. Taanti cracked open his reserve kegs, and the villagers lined up to drink their fill and then some. Thom and Tym minded a blazing cooking pit from which the mouth-watering aroma of a slowly roasting krayt flank drifted through town, causing waves of hunger pangs in its wake.

Mando sat on a shaded bench, watching as people carried out their dining tables and lined the street in preparation for the feast. Grogu perched on one of his armored knees, his ears twitching with interest as trays full of steaming dishes were set out. A group of children ran past, waving colorful sparklers that pulled Grogu's attention away from the promise of food. He pointed a clawed finger toward the kids and cooed a question at Mando.

Din lifted him off his knee and set him gently on the ground. His little feet barely touched the sand before he scampered away. "Don't set your robes on fire," Din called after him. His Foundling's safety was paramount above all else, but he wouldn't prevent the kid from spending these few hours playing. Who knew when Grogu would be able to make more friends or be a normal child again? Well, as normal as he could be as a pint-sized, big-eared fifty-year-old sorcerer.

Din himself only had the faintest memories of a happy childhood. He remembered he once had a warm home, friends he got into mischief with, and loving parents. Before the Separatist army and their droids brought war to his planet and slaughtered his family. Before the Mandalorians rescued him and he took his oath. Then instead of playing, every day was focused on learning how to fight and survive and honor the people who saved him.

His thoughts drifted to the two other refugees from that dark time in the universe that now shared his life. There were no Mandalorians to rescue Zo and Grogu when they lost the only family they had ever known to the Empire's war machine. Yet they found a way to survive just as he had. The three of them separated by thousands of light years and vastly different experiences, yet somehow, their paths converged in a way that was nothing less than extraordinary. Perhaps even destiny– if he was to believe in the Force the same way that the Jedi did.

"Those remind me of training sabers." He looked up, Zo's warm voice pulling him out of his swirling thoughts. She appeared out of the crowd sipping from a frothy mug of ale as she made her way to his bench. Grogu turned and waved excitedly at them before choosing a green sparkler of his own, then stepped into a tiny mimic of the fighting stance Din had seen Zo take on many occasions. "Why are you avoiding me?" She asked, as Grogu chased after his friends. Din turned slowly towards her, meaning to refute the accusation, but the words died in his throat.

Maybe if he hadn't stormed off and hidden away in the little basement room of Cobb's home, cleaning and polishing his armor until the dithering droid, Deeter, was sent to gather him for the feast, Zo's appearance wouldn't have stunned him into momentary silence. He should have waited outside that cozy, little home listening to her laugh and make friends with the village women until she reappeared. He could have been the first to see her clean, refreshed, and happy. Because she did look happy now, her pale skin almost glowing in the dimming suns.

Din ached to touch the long wavy strands of hair hanging loose around her face. He knew if he touched her, he wouldn't stop with the soft, curling strands of hair that smelled like oranges. He'd let himself become mesmerized by the suns lingering last embrace, illuminating the burnt reds and hidden strands of pale gold. He'd trace the angles and dips of her exposed collarbones, the lines of her arms– Fuck, he'd probably lose himself completely and kneel in the sand to run his hands up and down each of her bare legs, let his fingers trace the scalloped edge of the borrowed dress that ended inches above her knees.

Din took a deep, calming breath forcing his clenched fists to relax. The last thing they needed was for him to lose control. They were to leave at dawn to return to Peli and the ship once again empty-handed. They still had days, weeks, maybe months in each other's presence. "Forever. She could be with you forever." The thought came to him so quickly, exploding from the deepest recesses of his subconscious. The part of him where he buried every selfish impulse his Mandalorian training told him to ignore. But the voice, his voice, refused to be quiet. He had the right to choose a partner worthy of his Mandalorian culture and grow his clan.

And kriff, if he hadn't found Zo worthy from the moment she declared she would protect his Foundling with her life.

The silence hung thick between them, seconds ticking on and on as the celebrations continued around them. Din wanted to tell her she was the most beautiful thing ever to cross his visual processors, but the words refused to come. Even with her scuffed boots and the lightsaber still hanging from her belt, or perhaps because of those ever-present accessories. Not that he didn't usually find her beautiful, even covered in sweat and sand and prepared for battle at a moment's notice. She was a different kind of beautiful right now. In her borrowed green dress, she almost looked like she belonged with the villagers, he thought as something in his chest twisted tight. Unlike him in his impenetrable armor, even amongst the grateful smiles and reverent nods the people bestowed on him, he was forever separate—an outsider.

Din cleared his dry throat, forcing everything else behind the barriers in his mind lest the Jedi pull one of her tricks and read his thoughts. "I'm not avoiding you, jetti'ika." The angles and contours of his Beskar helmet glinted in the final rays of the setting suns as he turned away from her like she was the least interesting thing in his field of vision.

Zo furrowed her eyebrows as she sat beside him. "You left Cobb and me without saying anything, made that poor bantha practically gallop all the way back. Now you're hiding in the shadows."

Mando gave her an irritated sigh feeling the suffocating heat of jealousy under his skin. "It seemed like you and Cobb had a lot to discuss."

She nodded, following Grogu's tiny, robe-wrapped body as he darted between the legs of dancers, all the while swinging his green sparkler like a true Jedi warrior. "We managed to fill the time. Chatted about dancing mostly." She leisurely sipped her ale, enjoying the calm. "Cobb is something of an expert on local dances. There's the 'Bantha Bounce' and the 'Sandstorm shimmy.' And then his personal favorite–" She smirked into her mug,

"The Horizontal Tatooine two-step'."

"Mir'sheb." Mando barked out a surprised laugh, little more than a harsh puff of air escaping the seals of his helmet. But it was a treasured sound to her ears, something she would lock away as a happy memory. She scooted closer, barely leaving a sliver of space between them. Din's helmet dipped, watching as the hem of her dress rose, exposing a few more inches of her skin as she crossed her legs toward him. Her thigh was marred with a fresh bruise and an old, poorly mended, jagged scar that disappeared under her dress, and he longed to touch her there. To feel her warm, soft skin pressed against his face. "The night's barely started, Mando. You can still ask me to dance."

"I don't dance." He shifted slightly, digging his fingers into the Beskar plates atop his thighs.

"Well, that's because you're as surly as garubear." She narrowed her blue eyes, "I distinctly remember the 'Welcome Party' Duchess Satine threw on Mandalore. I know for a fact that Mandalorians dance. " She sat back, drinking the last of her ale, nudging him with her shoulder as she did. "Even Jedi know when it's time to celebrate, Mando, so celebrate. All of this is because of you."

"No, it's not." He replied, stretching his arm along the bench behind her back. Not touching her, feeling the challenge she'd dropped at his feet and proud of his resolve to leave the same breath of empty space between them as she did.

"You negotiated the treaty with the Tuskens. You killed the krayt dragon. You brought peace and security to Mos Pelgo. You're a–."

"I'm a Bounty Hunter."

"And I'm a disgraced Jedi apprentice, a coward, a murderer..." She said, ticking off her list of sins.

"You are none of those things."

"I am all those things and more, and yet... Helping these people–can't you feel it? The Light? It's so close. So much closer than I've felt in years, and it's because of you, Bounty Hunter. You are selfless, brave, fearless– Perhaps a bit too fearless." She gave him a small, shy smile before continuing, "You're a hero, and you deserve tonight." She rested her hand gently atop his armored knee. Her skin glowed, warm pink rising from underneath the dress and climbing up her chest, her neck. "The village is full of young women who are very aware you saved their home. I'm pretty sure the only reason they invited me over was to question me about our...relationship."

"And what is our relationship, jetti'ika?"

"I watch your son, rearrange your ship, eat all your favorite ration bars, and generally create nothing but havoc and irritation in your life." He laughed again. "You should go find someone to celebrate with...maybe even a couple of someones. Might loosen you up enough to dance."

"I think I'll hide in the shadows a while longer." His gloved fingers grazed her shoulder. Zo hummed under her breath as he gave in and let his gloved fingers caress her arm. She leaned into his touch, the warmth radiating from his nearness, and could almost pretend she wasn't burning inside.

Eventually, someone started singing, and the crowd responded with cheers as more villagers joined the dancing. The children played, and the music continued, song after song of energetic tunes, while they waited for the feast to officially begin.

The suns set, and eventually, Cobb found his way to their bench, balancing three large mugs of Taanti's fresh beer. He pushed his way into the tiny space between Zo and Mando's knees. She smirked at Mando as he lowered his arm with a loud, irritated sigh as she slid down the bench, and they each took a mug from Cobb's crowded arms.

Din rested the stein atop his knee but made no move to drink it. "You're supposed to drink the ale Mando, not catch dune flies with it." Cobb slapped Mando's back, laughing as he did. Beer sloshed over the sides of his mug, and Din sat up a little straighter, his back a tense line against the glow of the fire.

"Mando's more of a whiskey man." Zo responded, sensing Mando's growing irritation. "I am far less picky." She waved her fingers in a 'gimme' motion towards the ale, and he passed it in front of Cobb to her waiting hand. She took another long sip, the color in her cheeks growing as Cobb watched her. Zo smiled at him, wiping foam off her lip with the back of her hand.

"Good damn, Angel, I didn't think I'd see that smile on you again, especially after our little squabble," Cobb told her, tucking into his ale. He wiped his mouth on his sleeve before continuing, "I knew she was a firecracker, partner, but you could'a warned a man about the temper. For a minute there, I thought she was gonna take my head off–" He took another long swig, the ale loosening his tongue a bit more than Zo would have hoped. She hadn't explicitly asked Cobb not to mention their incident earlier but hoped it would be left in the dunes with the carcass of the krayt dragon.

"What happened? Did you hurt anyone?" Mando demanded so loudly that a pair of dancers missed their step and trod on each other's feet. Did you hurt anyone? The question stung worse than a slap across her face. She folded in on herself, carefully replacing the walls she'd let drop to soak in all the unabashed joy drifting through the village.

Cobb glanced between them, sobering up just enough to realize he'd stepped in a massive pile of bantha poodoo. He swallowed the last of his beer and broke into his most charming smile. "Mando, partner, it wasn't nothin' like that…you didn't tell 'im? She– hell, it was the damnedest thing–"

"Don't, Cobb, don't make excuses for my choices. He's right. The only reason no one was harmed was you. You stopped me." Zo said as she stood and tossed the rest of her ale into the fire. The drink turned sour on her tongue. The fun buzz kindling in her blood was fading away as reality and responsibility, and guilt settled in the pit of her stomach. Flirting with the Mandalorian had been a bad idea, joking and hearing him laugh, foolish…it was foolish letting herself believe even for a moment he wouldn't always see her as a tarnished toy.

The twins let out shrill whistles, and villagers descended on the tables of food. Zo left the empty mug on the nearest table and walked into the crowd. Grogu wove his way between legs and ran up to her, his sparkler little more than an ashy stick. Zo kneeled and blew on the ashes. The child giggled and clapped his hands as the dusty little particles floated past like dandelion fluff on a breeze. "Come, youngling, let's get you some dinner," she said, swinging him onto her hip as they walked towards the food. Grogu's tummy rumbled against her as they surveyed their choices. Everything looked good and smelled better.

Cobb slipped through the crowd and snaked an arm around her waist, "Follow me, Angel." He led them up and down the rows of tables laden with food, pointing out his favorites: a slice of Mrs. Piper's pie, some of Rikan's prickly pear salad, Taanti's signature rum trifle. Grogu squirmed restlessly in Zo's arms as she tried to balance him and their plates before Mando wordlessly took him and slipped him into the carrier bag he wore, sneaking him a cupcake to hold him over until they sat back down. The cranky old twins greeted Cobb with matching smiles that made them look more like grey-haired chipmunks than snarling wolverines. They piled the choicest cuts of meat onto their plates, all the while telling everyone within earshot that the Jedi was a close, personal friend of theirs.

Afterward, they returned to their bench, plates loaded with enough food to feed a village of Ewoks. The streets were quiet as the musicians took a break to enjoy feasting with their neighbors. Mando hung close to the periphery of their little group like a silvery shadow. "Cobb," Zo said, feeding the baby a spoonful of food, "Mando needs somewhere he can eat his meal in private." She didn't look away from the child as she spoke. For a moment, Din was afraid she would never look at him again, and he felt a hollow longing.

"Shit, of course, partner," Cobb said, setting his plate aside. "Angel, I don't care how much Thom or Tym growl. Your first dance is mine." He leaned down and kissed her, slow and gentle. "You did real good today, Darlin'." Din watched Zo raise two trembling fingers to her lips like she couldn't believe Cobb had actually kissed her. He would have laughed at the expression of shock that brightened her face if he hadn't ignited with envy. Envious that Cobb's charm came so easily to him he could affect her so much with a few words of praise and his touch was not hindered by leather and armor.

Cobb at least had the sense to look chagrined

as he stepped back and glanced at the statuesque Bounty Hunter. He bet once again the Mandalorian probably wouldn't shoot him in front of his entire village. Her eyes followed Cobb as he stepped back and brushed wrinkles out of his shirt before settling on Din's visor, "Celebrate tonight, Mando. I know I will."

Din curled his hands into tight fists and turned away without another word. Cobb navigated them through rows of tables, stopping to pat the occasional back or laugh at a quick joke before leading him to the back room at Taanti's cantina.

"Thank you, Cobb." Din said as Cobb showed him the lock inside the storage room door so he could eat in solitude. He was still taut with jealousy at the way Zo's skin flared with heat, and her heartbeat raced after Cobb's brief touch.

Cobb turned to leave before tsking as if he had just remembered something of vital importance. He walked to a dim corner of the storage room, whipped up a dusty tarp, and dug through the box hiding beneath. "Damn it. I know I stashed it around here somewhere…." He grumbled to himself, digging through another box. "Ah! Here we go!" He pulled a dusty bottle from the depths of the crate and held it up to the dim bulb hanging from the ceiling. Mando tilted his head as Cobb wiped the bottle clean on the bottom of his red shirt before holding the bottle towards him. "As the lady said, tonight's for celebrating, friend. Nal Hutta Whiskey– supposedly the slugs make a damn good hooch." Cobb answered the unasked question, pushing the bottle into his hand before striding back towards the storage room door. He paused again, one hand on the door frame, and looked over his shoulder at Din. "She was gonna end that thing even if it killed her... and maybe all of us."

"What?"

"The krayt…we saw it swallow you whole and then…She yanked it outta the sand like it was nothing, A guppy on a hook." He shook his head, still in disbelief at what he had witnessed. "I ain't never seen anyone do somethin' like that before. I-I got spooked. What if it got loose? My people were still in danger. You understand, don't you?"

"No, Cobb, I don't."

"I pulled her away. Told her you were a goner, but she wouldn't give up." He laughed, "… You're a damn fool if you think she would've done something like that if it were me in the dragon's belly." Cobb gave him one last scrutinizing look before heading back to the feast.

After he slid the lock into place, Din removed his helmet with a deep sigh and ran a hand through his hair. His food grew cold even though his insides churned hollowly. Cobb must have been mistaken about what he had seen. Zo lifting the krayt dragon? It wasn't possible. He had seen her and her lessons with Grogu: frustrated looks when she tried and failed to lift anything heavier than a few boxes of tools, then the sounds of her and Grogu's laughter as those tools crashed across the floor of his ship when she dropped it. Din paced the small storage room fighting the conflicting thoughts racing through his head. Why would she even attempt to do something like that? Why would she throw herself in front of a giant spider monster? Or rip a reinforced blast door from its hinges to save him?

A Jedi and a Mandalorian. It could never work.

And yet… Din cracked the seal on the whiskey and took a tentative sip. Spice and smoke flashed across his palate, finishing with a bright, citrusy burst that reminded him of Zo. The soap or lotion or whatever the hell it was that left the lingering scent of oranges and vanilla and her everywhere in his life. Kriff, he'd give his left arm to find out if she tasted the same.

"Fuck." He muttered, taking another sip. "Should have asked her to dance. Should have let Cobb finish his story. Should have dragged her into the shadows and touched the scar on her thigh …" Each thought he chased with another swallow of whiskey.

"How'd you like the pie?" Cobb asked as he slid onto the bench beside Zo.

She wiped Grogu's mouth with a cloth napkin before answering, "The bite Grogu let me have was delicious." Cobb laughed as she set Grogu on the sand and shooed him to go back and play with his friends. "Thank you for helping Mando. He's…"

"Kind of an asshole?"

"Sometimes." She laughed. "I was going to say devout. It's refreshing– knowing someone so resolute with their place in the universe. He never waivers."

"Never?" Zo shook her head. Cobb thoughtfully hummed as he ate his dinner. "You wanna talk about what happened?"

"No." She sighed. "He's right to question me; I've done terrible things, Cobb. I keep thinking if I don't waiver, if I am resolute, then I could be good, worthy enough for him–" She blushed and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. "I think it's too late; maybe it was always too late…"

"My grandpappy had a saying," Cobb said after a moment, "Sand geckos can't change their spots."

She tugged on the lacey hem of her borrowed dress as the familiar touch of shame licked its way up her spine, "He sounds like a wise man."

Cobb nodded, "That he was, Creator rest his soul. Guess it's a good thing you aren't a sand gecko." She released the dress and gave him a soft, half smile. "You owe me a dance, Angel." He added as he leaned over and kissed her cheek.

The Hutt whiskey packed a punch. Or maybe it had just been longer than he remembered since losing himself in the bottom of a bottle. A bad hunt, a collection gone wrong, and he'd hole himself up in the Crest for a day or two with enough liquor to drown the darker thoughts. But he hadn't had time to dwell on things gone wrong since Grogu came along. Because everything had gone wrong from the moment he laid eyes on the child. Din knew he was meant to be the kid's guardian, his protector until he could be reunited with his people. Then he'd picked up Zo's puck, and everything had gone from bad to worse, more confusing and frustrating. He'd never been drawn to someone the way he was to her. It was new and unsettling and downright terrifying at times how much he'd be willing to give for her. His last thought before succumbing to an alcohol-induced slumber was of Zo Mara.

Din woke with a dull ache in his head, a sour taste in his mouth, and the Jedi stilI on his mind. He rolled out some of the knots in his shoulders, glaring at the empty bottle of whiskey as if it had poured itself down his throat and decided he was getting too old to pass out on hard floors as he heaved himself and his heavy armor up.

The moon, now nearly at its apex, hung bright and full in the sky, lighting the now empty town square in a pale yellow glow. The bonfire still burned, although now it was little more than a gentle crackle. No dancer's remained on the packed sand. Guitars and a small banjo lay quiet on the cracked wood walkway. Taanti was snoring on one of the tables and muttered something about a new pale ale recipe he was brewing as Din walked by. Cool night air slipped under the collar of his flight suit and helped numb the pain in his head. A hot shower and another six hours of sleep in a bed would do wonders for the tension he felt building with each step towards Cobb Vanth's homestead.

A few moisture droids roamed the sleeping grounds of Cobb's property, silently performing their never-ending duty. His boots echoed hollowly on the steps as he descended into the home. Cobb's dithering protocol droid stood silently in a corner, powered down for the night. From the long corridor behind the kitchen, his audio receptors picked up the unmistakable sounds of a woman's moans and the thud-thud-thud of a headboard hitting a wall. He turned towards the breathy, sensual noise as it grew louder, more urgent. "Fuck, yes, yes, yes, gods-" Her voice rang out, high pitched and hot as a laser bolt as she came. Cobb's grunt of release followed a breath after, and Din stood there immobile, frozen to the spot like the sleeping droid. His heart hammered against the beskar on his chest, the pounding in his head intensified, and he squeezed his eyes shut against the searing pain. He had done this, pushed her away. From the sound of it, Cobb was done waiting and staked his claim.

The hatch at the end of the hall hissed open, and still, Din couldn't move, his muscles frozen and useless as if he'd been hit with a stun round. Cobb whistled as he padded barefoot across the tiled floor, the tune lighthearted and mindless in his postorgasmic state. He rounded the corner and saw Mando, mistaking his clenched hands and the slight tremble of a man in motion towards the steep, dark steps to the lower bedroom. "Well, hey there, partner." He clasped Mando's shoulder, and finally, Din felt sensation trickle back into his frozen limbs. Cobb whistled again as he turned towards the humming fridge. "You enjoy the party? I sure did…" He laughed as the little light inside the ice box came to life. Din turned his stiff head towards the other man as he bent down and rummaged for a snack. A fine sheen of sweat and red trails from her fingernails covered his back. Din clenched his fists as Cobb cracked open a water canister and took a long drink.

"Cobb?" She called out from the bedroom.

Din's head jerked towards the silvery voice. "You know, she doesn't look the type, but she's a goddamn tyger in the sheets." Cobb ran his fingers across a love bite on his neck, and Din died a little. He could have let her, should have let her go. Now he'd have to look at her in the morning and never know how she tasted. "Maker, help me. I might not survive the night. I'm not exactly twenty anymore…hell between me, you, and Deeter-" He pointed his chin towards the slumbering droid, "I'm north of forty, but there's enough fuel in the old jetpack for a few more flights– if you know what I mean." Cobb gathered a bowl of fruit and another canister of water before closing the icebox door with his hip. "Do you mind if I keep the armor 'till dawn? She's got a thing for the helmet." He asked over his shoulder as she called his name again.

Cobb disappeared back into his bedroom, and the murmuring resumed. Din didn't move until the murmuring turned into sighs. The sounds of her pleasure echoed after him each step down into the darkness towards his room. He was sure he was suffocating, the filters in his helmet malfunctioning causing his breaths to come in short tight gasps. He slammed his fist into the control panel next to the door. The lights blazed to life as he stumbled through the hatch, flinging off his gloves as he went. His heart squeezed painfully in his chest; black spots danced in his eyes. He was sure he was dying. It was the Hutt whiskey and the years of nothing but ration bars and the artificial gravity all catching up at once, hurtling him towards this very un-warrior-like death. He hooked his thumbs under his helmet, gasping for breath as the hatch closed behind him, finally offering him silence.

"Mando?"