The gray and white clouds swirling over the surface of the planet looked largely unchanged as they emerged out of hyperspace just outside of Mandalore's orbit, dampening Din's hope that the others had managed to make some progress while he was gone. Just then a request for an authorization code came through from one of the Gauntlets flying patrol just ahead. He quickly transmitted the information, grateful for the temporary distraction, and mere seconds later he was granted permission to approach. He began to prepare the starfighter for the reentry, but instead of setting his navigation for the camp, he keyed in the coordinates for where he had landed the very first time they came here- the entrance of the caves that would lead them down to the mines and the Living Waters.
He bit back a growl of frustration at the havoc the storms once again wreaked on his ship's systems and tightened his grip on the yoke until his joints ached. If anything it seemed like conditions had worsened- or maybe it was just in his mind after such smooth conditions on Sorgan. Grogu was surprisingly quiet in his place on Din's lap for the entire ordeal, only making a relieved noise that mirrored Din's own feelings when they finally got below the storm and burst through the clouds, the landscape below still a desolate plain of green trinitite and scattered rubble. A short while later the flat slab of stone that made for a natural landing spot just outside the cavern opening came into view, and only a few minutes after that they touched down on the surface. The utter silence when the cockpit canopy slid forward was unnerving after the near-constant chatter of life over the past couple of weeks.
He climbed slowly out of the starfighter, signaling Grogu to stay in the seat while he did a preliminary scan of the area. Nothing stirred on the surface around them and his HUD readings were clear of any potential danger, but his senses were still on high alert as he pulled the Rising Phoenix out from under the seat and set it into place. Grogu babbled an emphatic protest when he moved to pull the hover pod from the storage hatch. So instead he grabbed the second satchel that he had modified as a carrier from under the seat, slung it across his body, and gently placed him inside. Once he was settled Din pulled his blaster and started for the cave.
The light mounted on the side of his buy'ce probed the darkness ahead of them as he stepped into the shadow of the rocks. Adrenaline thrummed along his nerves, steeling himself for another ambush from the white-furred creatures Bo-Katan had informed him were the Alamites he had grown up hearing tall tales about, but this time they reached the ledge overlooking the ruins of the ancient city without incident. His heart had constricted in his chest the first time he saw the destruction, despite never having set foot in the city himself, and now that he knew the importance of the place to his departed friend, the sorrow returned full force and was now accompanied by a crippling wave of self-doubt. How was he supposed to return this place to its former majesty and prosperity? He was a hunter, not an architect and certainly not a diplomat; he knew nothing about what it would take to resurrect Mandalore from the ashes. He touched the hilt of the Daksaber with the hope that doing so would help instill some of the certainty that he had found on Sorgan, but all he found was cold indifference.
Grogu whined in concern, and after checking their six to ensure that it wasn't a warning of imminent danger, he patted the kid absently on the head. "I'm fine," he muttered before igniting his jetpack and stepping over the edge, tucking the edge of his new cloak himself to keep it clear of the thrusters as he descended. The rubble was just as dank and shadowy as it had been before- obviously recovery efforts hadn't extended this far yet, but he couldn't fault the others for it. Priority one was securing the surface and eliminating any more Imperial remnants in the surrounding area, and then the forge needed rebuilt for their Armorer to do her work. His footsteps echoed eerily in the silence as he veered to the right, avoiding the reptilian creatures that lived in the undercity and the place where the cyborg had trapped him in favor of the more straightforward route Bo-Katan had shown him. He kept to the raised path that had once been a main thoroughfare through the city, and a short time later the walls began to narrow as he reached the entrance of the corridor that would lead them down to the mines.
As they drew closer to the chamber that held the Living Waters, Din was startled by the low murmur of voices drifting toward him, and his hand instinctively tightened around his weapon. It sounded like they were coming from directly ahead, and he steeled himself to meet these potential adversaries. The entrance to the chamber appeared out of the gloom just ahead of them, and he stopped short just shy of stepping inside when his light landed on two figures standing on the steps leading down to the pool, hands clasped together and helmets met in a loving kov'nyn. The crimson armor adorning both were immediate giveaways of their identities, as was the golden, horned helmet of one. So that was why Teren Rynad had pitched his tent so close to the Armorer's. He had no idea that the two of them were involved romantically, but his ignorance could easily be blamed on the frequency of his absences from the covert. In any case, he wouldn't begrudge them the chance at happiness together, especially after all the tragedy that had befallen their respective lives.
Two visored gazes jerked toward the light, clearly startled by the intrusion. Din extinguished the light and took a few steps forward into the dim glow of the chamber, holstering his blaster to show them that he was no enemy. A shaky exhale came from Teren's modulator, but the Armorer stood as still and stiff as a post, the set of her shoulders severe and authoritative.
"Ni ceta; I didn't mean to intrude. I can come back another time-"
"No," Teren cut in. "It's alright. We were just finishing." His helmet swiveled from Din to their leader, who gave a nearly imperceptible nod, and back again. "I'll leave you to your business." He laid a gentle hand on the Armorer's upper arm and leaned close to whisper something that Din couldn't make out. She nodded again, and he gave her arm a reassuring squeeze before mounting the steps. If the blank slate of a helmet could emote remorse then Teren's was full of it. Or maybe it was the subtle drop of his shoulders and the way his T-visor dipped toward the stone floor as he approached Din. The two of them had known each other for a long time and had shared many painful and fiercely personal details of their lives, yet Teren hadn't breathed a word about his courtship before. But even so, Din felt nothing but gladness for his longtime friend. He stuck out his hand, halting the other man's progress. "Congratulations. Vercopa gar ba'juri kotyc verde."
He barely caught the slight huff of a relieved chuckle through the modulator before Teren's hand snapped up and clasped his in a hearty grasp. "Vor entye, vod." He clapped his free hand to the back of Din's once before he dropped the hold and slipped past the other Mandalorian, leaving him to his business with their goran. As his footsteps faded away Din turned back to the golden-helmeted woman, who had turned her back to him and was now kneeling on the pavement at the top of the steps, staring into the shadows in a posture almost identical to the one he'd found her in on Glavis. He just hoped that this encounter would end differently than that one had.
"I see you've returned safely from your travels," she said without preamble. "I trust that you maintained your creed while you were away this time?"
He flinched at her tone that bordered on condescension, his stomach dropping at the question itself. Their Tribe's leader had always been a mysterious and closed-off figure; now she was being downright confusing. What happened to the declaration he had overheard as he departed the forge before they left? Why was she choosing that to focus on?
"No, I have removed my helmet."
Her head turned slightly toward him and he could feel the disapproval, mixed with something else he couldn't place, in the flat black gaze of her visor.
"Then you are-"
"I did it for the benefit of my son," he blurted out, unwilling to allow her to declare him dar'manda again. "And for my wife." If it was possible the set of her shoulders stiffened even more at the revelation. "I have formally adopted Grogu as my son, and while on Sorgan I reunited with a woman I fell in love with years ago. We spoke the riduurok, binding ourselves to each other. Or does the vow of oneness no longer apply to the honor of bearing one's face to one's aliit?"
She did not answer, only turning to stare at the far wall of the cavern once again. Finally she pushed gracefully to her feet and faced him fully. "Recite your creed."
Din froze, unsure how to respond and fighting to keep his ire from bristling. Suddenly he felt a tiny, three-fingered hand press against his side, and almost immediately a strange sense of calmness wrapped around him, dousing his irritation. This woman had held his trust for so long; he owed it to her to do as she requested and then he would make his case afterward. She was not his enemy.
He nodded once, removed Grogu from his sling, and settled him on a large chunk of pavement nearby before descending the steps until the waters just covered the toes of his boots, lapping gently against his ankles. "I swear on my name and the names of the-"
"No, " she cut in. "Recite your creed."
The interruption caught him off guard. He turned to her in question but she only stared at him, clearly expecting him to know what she meant. Then quickly it dawned on him; she wanted him to recite the Resol'nare.
Suddenly he felt like a child again, barely thirteen years old, standing on the precipice of adulthood and preparing to commit himself, body and soul, to a vow that would alter the course of his life forever. He hauled in a deep breath. "Ke'juri beskar'gam, ke'jorhaa'i Mando'a. K'ara'novo aliit, ke'gaa'tayli aliit bralir. Ke'ba'juri sa Mando'ade, ke'shekemi haar Mand'alor. Bid an kar'tayli mhi Mando'ade."
"Oya Manda." At her reply he emerged from the pool, his feet already chilled from the frigid water soaking through the leather of his boots. It was a small irritation, he told himself, as he held his breath and waited for the Armorer to speak again.
"Do you still wield the Darksaber?"
Though he didn't see how such a cryptic question related to an already- unusual conversation, he nodded, touching the weapon clipped to his belt once more. "I do."
His confirmation seemed to satisfy her somewhat. "When I sent you on your quest to find the Jetii, I named you a clan of two because I saw how much the child had come to mean to you, even in so short a time. You removed your helmet to save him, and now you admit to removing it once again for the benefit of others rather than your own selfishness. In this way you have not dishonored your armor, so I have no grounds for declaring you dar'manda." Her shoulders lost some of their stiffness, and she drooped slightly. "I see now that I was premature in making that declaration before, and so I now ask your pardon. Ni ceta."
Din was dumbfounded by her request for forgiveness, which was accompanied by a hand placed on her chest plate over her heart and a bowed head. He fought back his natural urge to feel some sort of vindication for his wrongful banishment, choosing to remain silent rather than say something rash that might wound her further. He tried instead to consider her perspective: at the time of their meeting on Glavis she, Paz, and himself had been the only known survivors of the Covert- a state brought on by their choice to reveal themselves and help Din escape with Grogu. One of her main roles was protector of the covert, even if that sometimes meant protecting its members from themselves. His anger over the situation had long since fizzled out and for a time was replaced by simple homesickness for the Tribe he had grown up in. But now he could see that everything, even all the heartache and loss, had been leading to this moment and the opportunity to rebuild their homeworld and establish a place for themselves in the galaxy once again.
"There is nothing to forgive. You did what you thought was right at the time, and it's only because of your insistence that I return here, to the Living Waters, that I was reunited with Bo-Katan and the opportunity arose to reclaim our planet. Even if it came at a higher price than any of us expected." Her head lifted, her visor meeting his again, and he faintly heard a shuddering exhale slip through her vocoder. He clenched his fist at his side to keep from reaching out and giving her a comforting pat on the shoulder, and instead simply tipped his chin in a slow nod, which she returned immediately.
"I have decided to accept the role of Mand'alor. I intend to establish a council of advisors from the various clans; would you consider sitting on it as a representative of our Tribe? Teren would be welcome to as well, if he wishes it."
"I'd be honored." Her hand returned to her heart, this time closed in a fist. "I shall endeavor to be worthy of such an appointment." Din held back an amused chuckle at her formality, the realization taking hold that in the span of a few short minutes their roles had been completely reversed, and he was now in a position of authority over her. Though it didn't seem to stop her from offering one last piece of advice. "As Mand'alor you will be a unifier of the people. You already know that not everyone was raised as we were, so you will have to decide if and to whom you will show your face. This is a decision only you can make."
In other words, she was extending him a certain level of leniency with a subtle caution not to abuse it. "I understand." She nodded again and moved for the entrance to the chamber, only to draw up short and turn back as if suddenly remembering something. She pulled an item from her belt and held it out to him.
"Koska Reeves found this in Lady Kryze's belongings. It is addressed to you; she asked me to give it to you when you returned."
He took the item with a nod of thanks, turning it over in his hands as her footsteps faded away. It was a folded square of flimsi, thick and clearly of good quality, with his name inscribed on one side. He stared at it for a long moment, certain he had seen this type of paper before, and then suddenly he remembered seeing a stack of it on the desk in their quarters on Plazir-15. He and Bo had been assigned a suite in the duchess's palace prior to beginning their hunt for the rogue droids- shared rooms, based on some sort of misunderstanding that they were a couple. They hadn't bothered with asking for separate spaces, considering neither of them expected to be there long. But after their task had taken the better part of two days to complete, Bo had requested they visit the suite briefly if only for her to clean up before meeting with the rest of her Nite Owls, claiming refusal to pass up a real shower instead of the sonic in the tiny fresher aboard her Gauntlet. Din had obliged and waited patiently in the sitting room, taking advantage of the time alone to fix an audio processor that had been jarred loose by the battle droid's mechanical fist to what otherwise would have been the bridge of his nose.
Almost an hour passed before she finally emerged, her red hair still slightly damp but curiously not looking as refreshed as he expected. At the time he thought he caught a flash of something in her eyes but in classic Bo-Katan fashion it was gone so quickly that he wondered if he imagined it, but now he was almost certain it had something to do with the letter he now held. She must have snuck a piece of flimsi and a stylus into the fresher with her and written it while running the water then dampened her hair to make it look like she had bathed. Bracing himself for anything- or so he thought- he unfolded the page and began to read:
Din,
I want to start by letting you know how much you have come to mean to me- both you and Grogu. In spite of the less-than-courteous way I treated you at times, you've never retaliated with similar venom, even though you would have been more than justified in doing so. In a lot of ways you saved my life: without you- or more accurately your kid- dragging me from my castle on Kalevala, I have no doubt that I would still be there, lost in my own misery and self-loathing instead of looking ahead to the day when we retake our world. It has been an honor getting to truly know you over the past months, and I have come to realize that you are much more than the stalwart zealot I accused you of being on Trask. You are forthright and honest, strong and sensible yet attentive to the needs of others. You may not see it, but there is something special in the way you connect with people, including beings of other species, that I have only seen a few times in my life.
You remind me a lot of my father, in fact. Fierce in battle yet endlessly loyal to his people and always the first to selflessly come to the aid of another when called. It was what made him such a great leader, and you have that potential as well. I know full well that you have no desire to lead our people, that you would rather give up the Darksaber and be done with it. Perhaps you feel unworthy of wielding it, but in truth, I know that I am. Maker knows that I've done too many terrible things in my life to even consider myself worthy of such a weighty responsibility. Maybe one day I'll tell you everything. But for now, all I know is that Mandalore needs a leader, someone who is willing to fight for her and bring the Mando'ade back to its inheritance. And that leader is you, Din Djarin.
It wasn't a mistake that the Darksaber came to you. I firmly believe that now. You may be the sole ruler, but you do not stand alone. Clan Kryze is with you, until we drive our enemies from Mandalore and beyond.
Par kote Manda'yaim.
Her name was signed in a flourish at the bottom, the Mando'a letters crisp and perfectly formed- a telltale sign of her upbringing in the royal family.
"Ni su'cuyi, gar kyr'adyc. Ni partayli, gar darasuum, Bo-Katan Kryze." He muttered the prayer quietly, reverently refolding the flimsi sheet and tucking it into a pouch at his belt. He didn't know how she knew exactly what he needed to hear; maybe she had experienced all the same insecurities and self-doubt that he was feeling now when she first became regent during the Empire. But regardless of the how, he was grateful for her words and even now could feel a tiny bit of the weight of authority ease from his shoulders.
What he thought was a twitch of movement below the surface of the Living Waters caught his eye, tearing his attention away from the letter. Just as quickly as it appeared it was gone, but his mind still catapulted him back to the last time he was her with Bo-Katan, to the odd tone in her voice when she'd asked if he had seen anything in the depths and then her hurried retreat after his denial. Disoriented as he was he didn't stop to consider why she would ask such a cryptic question, especially with her earlier dismissal of the legend, but now the pieces fell into place with blinding clarity. Was it possible…?
He leaned forward over the glassy surface, peering intently into the darkness. Seconds later the waters began to roil, churning and bubbling as a large shape emerged from the blackness. Din scrambled backward to avoid being swept into the torrent that flooded the steps as a monstrous beast broke the surface, the pale light filtering from above highlighting the pebbly, brownish-gray skin. With every second the creature seemed to grow larger as it pulled itself from the waters, the breadth of its face alone much wider than Din's armspan. Enormous tusks jutted from its jaws, curving around him where they came to rest atop the broken pavement, and two large, dark eyes slowly focused on him. The tranquility of the creature was unnerving as it was surprising, and he dared a glance over his shoulder, expecting to see Grogu with his hand outstretched and face scrunched in concentration like he had when taming Boba's rancor on the streets of Mos Espa. But instead his ad was still perched on the stone where Din left him, eyes wide and head tilted slightly in awe and curiosity.
He watched the mythosaur closely, frozen in place and steeling himself for the moment when the beast consumed him or flung him into the wall with a single swipe of its massive tusks. But the creature only continued to stare at him, and after an interminable moment of screwing up his courage- or foolhardiness- he slowly reached up and laid his hand gently against its face. The skin was rough and leathery, not scaly like he would expect of a creature that spent much of its life underwater.
Kuill's gravelly voice echoed in his mind: Your ancestors rode the great mythosaur… Din knew the stories, tales of eons past when the great Mand'alore tamed the monstrous beasts and rode them into battle. He just never thought he would see one- touch one- in the flesh. This was what Bo must have seen when she dove into the depths after him, what prompted the Armorer to task her in the gathering of the diaspora from across the galaxy. He felt a twinge of hurt that she hadn't confided in him, but he quickly brushed it away, knowing full well that he would've hesitated to believe her, especially considering the rocky nature of their relationship up until that point.
A low rumble came from the creature, reminding him of where his focus belonged. There was the slightest shift of pressure as the mythosaur seemed to lean into his touch- almost like a hound nudging against its owner's hand in a bid for attention- and then it was gone completely, the beast slowly retreating back into its watery dwelling. In the span of a couple minutes it was completely gone, the only evidence of its existence being the flooded pavement and the two dumbfounded beings standing on it.
Din backed away slowly from the edge of the pool, making his way to Grogu without taking his eyes off the now-glassy water. "You saw that too, right, ad'ika?"
"Patu." A tiny hand clasped onto his finger and Din looked down to see the kid staring up at him with wide eyes. There was no fear there, only a strange sort of knowing that sometimes came into the child's expression, reminding Din once again that he was much older than he appeared and had lived a vastly different life before their paths crossed.
"That's what I thought." He released a drawn-out sigh. "Well I guess it's time we get back to the others." He scooped Grogu up and situated him back in his carrier, and with one last look at the inky waters below, he turned and strode from the shadowy chamber.