The early evening sunlight made patterns dance over the sandwashed Nevarro residential buildings in the Northern portion of the city.
The streets here were quiet compared to the hustle of and bustle of the central marketplace. Save for the heavy footfall of one person. A person stalking furiously through the streets, like a wild animal looking for its prey.
Din Djarin.
Din was more angry than he had been in a long time. Incensed that anyone would lay a finger on Lysa. On the woman that Din-
Din clenched his jaw, his eyes black beneath his beskar helmet.
He wasn't sure what he was planning to do when he found Crix Val'shif….but he had a good idea.
Din had just one blaster, well-positioned in its holster, but a large knife in his belt and plenty of other things upon his person that would help him to hang, draw and quarter the man who had hurt her.
There was no denying it now. Din had seen it in her eyes. The shame of knowing that the man she was supposed to love, and who supposedly loved her back, had done this to her. And not for the first time either. That was the most obvious thing.
And Din wasn't just going to stand by and let Crix get away with it.
Din headed down the familiar path towards Lysa's home, drawing looks as he went. But he was long past caring.
His mind on one thing, and one thing only.
And Din didn't have to search for long to find the sole focus of his attention…
…turning the corner to see Crix Val'shif and three of his buddies exiting his and Lysa's apartment.
"An' I told that son of a bantha, don' fuck with me or your gonna get what's comin' to ya," came the loud and obnoxious voice of the man that Din loathed, dressed today in all black with a black leather tunic, buckled three times at the waist.
His three clingers-on all laughed thickly.
They were clearly headed to the Cantina, one of the men bringing up the rear draining a long misty bottle of some kind of ale, which he promptly chucked to the ground..
All of the men looked the same as Crix did. Sallow faces, a little older than Din, all seeming rather rough around the edges but well-built, looking like they had been in plenty of bar-fights in their time.
But Din wasn't here for them.
And unlike last time, Din didn't linger in the shadows for even a moment. For this time, he was here for one thing, and one thing only.
Din walked out into the clear street and stood there in full beskar, like an ominous statue, blocking their way.
His eyes were fixed to Crix, who gave a sneer as he clapped eyes on him.
"Well, well, well," said Crix in an oily voice. "If it isn't the Mandalorian."
He looked to his friends as they all came to a stop around him, flexing their biceps and cracking their knuckles.
"This is the guy I told you about, fellas," said Crix, taking a step closer to Din, standing just a foot or two away from him. "The one that's been harassing my girlfriend. Stalking her. Trying to put his hands on her when he thinks no one's watching…"
Din could feel his chest restricting in anger.
"That what you're into, huh?" said Crix, sucking on his teeth, mockingly. "Maybe it's true, how that old saying goes, huh boys? That Mandalorians only get their kicks by pulling out their dic-"
But Crix wasn't able to utter another word as Din threw a punch right across his long tanned jaw.
Almost immediately the men around him reacted, one of them lunging for Din and another one pulling a small and compact electro-shock prod from the back of his pants as quick as flash.
Din managed to dodge the first man, but with the second he wasn't so lucky, as the purple glowing prod met with his side.
Din gave a hard grunt of pain, as his body was taken over by the powerful shock and his knees buckled beneath him.
Soon, one of the men was at Din's back, pinning both arms in place, as another shock was blasted through Din's body.
He could only watch as Crix stood up stiffly, rubbing at his jaw, throwing Din a sudden dark look.
"Now that was a mistake you're gonna regret, Mandalorian," bit Crix in a foul voice approaching slowly, as the three men held Din in place, on his knees on the dusty ground.
But Din Djarin was a bounty hunter. And a good one at that.
And these men were truly fools if they thought that he could be outdone and bested that easily.
Using all his strength, Din tore his arms away from the men's grasp and swung around grabbing the electro-prod from one of them easily.
He dipped his head as one of them threw a punch his way and another lurched for him.
But Din was too fast for either of them, jabbing the prod towards one of them and blasting him in the neck causing him to convulse and scream out in pain.
The man crumpled to the floor almost instantly, giving Din time to turn his attention to the other two.
Both men were circling Din now. The larger of the two lunged at him, but Din quickly dived to the right, sending him thudding into the wall behind him comically.
Turning back to the third man, shorter than the rest, standing there with his teeth bared, Din waited. Watching as the man drew a small flick-knife from his belt and came at the tall Mandalorian.
But Din used momentum to fling himself forward and drop, landing on one knee and tripping the man, who fell face forward into the dirt, dropping his weapon.
Din raised himself to his full height as the men rallied one more, all standing together now, looking far more worried and far less confident than they had a few moments ago.
With the electro-shock prod in one hand, Din extracted his knife with the other. A knife far larger and more intimidating than the small now-discarded flick knife, that was for sure.
The men all seemed to run at Din at the same time, one throwing a punch as another tried to bowl Din over.
But triggering the prod, Din managed to duck the punch and electrocute the man running toward him.
As quick as a flash, Din sliced his knife across the leg of the man nearest to him causing him to yelp in pain.
The two men quickly backed off, one running away down the street clutching his bleeding leg and the other, with his hair now standing on end, following closely behind.
Din instantly turned his attention to the final two men, the shorter of Crix' buddies who now had his knife back, and Crix himself.
The latter standing there, a sneer fixed to his face as he circled Din.
But Din had done this a million times and fought down far greater foes than these two.
And so he just waited, and predictably, the shorter man came to him, brandishing the knife.
He jabbed it at Din, but it met only with the beskar plate at his chest. And Din was able to use the prod one last time, into the man's neck, watching his eyes roll back in his head, before he shoved him aside.
It was not him he was here for.
Din strode forward, making for Crix as he threw a punch. But the Mandalorian blocked it almost instantly with his arm, dropping the prod and grasping at Crix's wrist and twisting it up behind his back and shoving him face first into the whitewashed brick wall beside them.
Din noticed the last of Crix' buddies pick himself up, fleeing as fast as he could.
He knew they would likely be back with bigger weapons and an even bigger grudge now. But his focus wasn't on that.
Now he had Crix Val'shif.
And he would pay for what he had done.
"Get your fucking hands off of me, Mandalorian," hissed Crix, as Din gave him another hard shove into the brick, his knife still in his hand.
"Like you kept your hands off her?" said Din, speaking to Crix for the first time, his voice ragged. "I've seen her bruises."
But to Din's rage, Crix merely gave a cold laugh.
"What I do to her under my roof is my business," he uttered in a poisonous voice, through gritted teeth. "You've obviously never never been with a gal that like it rough like she does-"
But Din wasn't going to listen to this any more, suddenly pressing his knife into Crix' neck.
"No…wait…I was jus' foolin' around," said the long-faced thug, backtracking hurriedly, sounding choked as he struggled to take a breath with the blade so close to his jugular. "...please…"
But all of a sudden, before Din could do another thing, there came the sudden revv of an engine nearby and around the corner came a whoosh of dust…
…followed by Lysa's speeder.
Din looked up to see it pull up and Lysa hop out quickly, tugging off her helmet, her tearful eyes blown wide in panic.
From the drivers seat of the battered old landspeeder, the familiar face of Grogu peered over the door to see what all the commotion was about.
With her helmet off Din could now see why she hadn't wished to remove it. For across her cheekbone and over her temple was another bruise, this one older, tinged with green.
"Stop," she said loudly, striding over to where Din had Crix pressed up to the wall. "Please Din, just stop."
Her eyes were tearful and imploring as she stared up at him, hands trembling, lip quivering.
But Din didn't want to stop, Crix Val'shif needed to be punished for what he had done to her.
Crix made to pull away, taking advantage of Din's distraction, but Din merely turned him and forced him to his knees, knife held across his tanned throat from behind.
"But he hurt you," said Din through gritted teeth, holding a squirming Crix in place, the knife at his throat drawing a little blood. "He keeps hurting you."
But Lysa looked terrified, staring down at Crix before looking up at Din once more.
"Just stop, Din, please!" she pleaded, shaking her head, her long honey-coloured hair flying wildly behind her as she did so.
Din stared back at her, not understanding why she would ever choose to defend this man.
Din's aching heart was thudding in his chest, his mouth dry. All he wanted now was for her to be safe. Somewhere far from the clutches of this man.
Din knew how he felt about her now, there was no denying it.
"You can leave with me, right now," said the Mandalorian in a low voice, with a small shake of his beskar-covered head. "You don't have to put up with him anymore."
And for a moment, Lysa's tear-filled eyes seemed to meet with his own. A look of hope and yearning crossing her features.
But at Din's feet, Crix suddenly spoke, his voice hoarse as he kept his chin raised, his exposed throat still careful of the blade that was pressed to it.
"You'd really leave me? After all the years we've been together. After everything?" he uttered, looking Lysa dead in the eye now. "After what I told you I would do."
Din didn't see where Crix's eyes went, but he suddenly saw Lysa's gaze flicker towards her speeder where Grogu was still sat, her expression suddenly changing to one of fear and utter worry.
Din pressed the knife closer to Crix's throat causing a single drop of blood to run down into the thuggish man's leather collared tunic.
But Crix's words had obviously done the trick. Because when Lysa's gaze moved up, meeting with Din's again, tears were slipping hurriedly from her water-filled eyes, and her look was one of hopelessness and resignation.
"Lysa," muttered Din, giving a disbelieving frown, but he already could see that Crix had somehow worked his magic on her.
And her next words only confirmed it.
"I-I can't-" she said, desperately trying to stop herself from sobbing. He could see her chest hitching as she tried her best to breathe steadily. "Just let him go….please."
Din stared at her in disbelief.
After all Crix had done and here she was yet again, defending him. Saving his life.
Practically begging Din now, her voice pleading. And yet her expression was undeniably one of loss and hurt. As though resigning herself to this awful life once and for all.
But why?
She took a step forward now. "Please, Din. Let him go."
Her voice was firm. Her decision final.
And before Din knew what he was doing, he had lowered his knife and taken a step back from Crix.
Letting him go because he cared for her too much. The irony of it all not lost on him.
Watching as Crix got to his feet unsteadily, stumbling a little and making for the door to his home, throwing one last seething look to Din, as Lysa walked quickly after him. After the man she had defended, trying to reach out for his arm, but he tugged it away from her, shoving past her and going inside.
Din saw several more tears slide down Lysa's cheeks but she didn't look at Din again…she couldn't…
…disappearing after Crix, the rusted door sliding shut behind them.
Leaving Din Djarin staring after her, a pain coursing through his heart, the likes of which he had never felt before.
He knew this wasn't over. He didn't want it to be over. But Lysa's choice was finally made.
And as much as Din wanted to go in there and drag her out, take her back to his cabin where she would be safe.
He couldn't force her to do anything. Because if he did that, wasn't he just as bad as Crix Val'shif?
Din stared at the door, feeling right at this moment totally and utterly lost.
Dank farrik…
What the hell could he do now?
Thank to smichale, J-James, MsRosePetal, Punkette1026, HipCheckChick, chipiam, Lockheart96, ReRe00 for reviewing the last chapter.
I already know that some of you are going to feel super annoyed with Lysa in this chapter. Annoyed with her decisions and choices. But this chapter is written from Din's POV and, like you, he doesn't see her decisions as rational. They are of course stupid to us looking in. But remember this is a woman who has suffered years of abuse. Been made to feel like she is worthless, that she deserves only Crix, trying to do the right thing by choosing to save Crix, and in turn Grogu. In her eyes Crix is far more powerful than Din and Grogu (she doesnt know what we do!). She's blinded by him by this point. I know from reviews I've already had on this chapter on other sites that people didnt like the writing here. But I promise, things will come good in the end. Trust me. Thanks for reading this far. I appreciate and read every single comment you guys leave.
Please review!