Sorry for the long wait. Here's a new one!
Once again, it has some GOT references that you may notice too :)
Din had never been to this planet of Carlac, so at first glance, it looks like a pleasant place to stay.
The N-1 descended slowly through the cloud cover, finally landing in the landing pads of Carlac, white powder of snow gently blew at the ship, planting powdered snow onto the glass.
Next to his ship, the navy blue of the gauntlet followed suit, with its spiky wings pointing forward and hovering next to the N1 steadily. He could see Bo manoeuvring it carefully as she flew next to him, he wondered what she had in mind about this day since, for the time of preparation, they hadn't been able to speak much.
Din turned back to the city and observed the developed home of Ming Po as Grogu babbled in awe as he planted both of his little hands on the glass. It looks peaceful and somewhat ancient as he can see that the place is richly surrounded by its culture. Delicate straight then curved roofs, all painted in blue and red, and people dressing differently than the usual attire he had seen in other places. Din is willing to guess that the Ming Po are proud of their culture and who they are.
Well, it's no wonder that they are not willing to back down from Bo after their fall from Death Watch.
The frozen plains of Ming Po stretched out in front of the group, the windswept snow shimmering under the pale light of the two moons. The quiet was only broken by the distant howls of Ming Po's native creatures. The wide expanse of untouched snow would soon be marred by the marks of combat.
"Patu," Grogu chirped.
"Looks like a nice place, huh?" Din said to him.
The little green child then turned to him and chirped a string of incoherent words of concern. The father can hear his worries through his chittering much like a distressed bird. Whether or not the boy understands the reason why he is here, it appears that Grogu is projecting his concerns about him.
"Don't worry, kid," he patted his head to reassure his boy, Grogu purred as Din's hand stroked his fuzzy head, "We'll be fine." Grogu tilted his head, "Have faith in your old man, will you? I'll win this, don't worry." The little green child cooed insistently before nodding and looking back at the glass, watching the city grow closer every minute.
Whether or not Grogu believes this, he must win. No matter what.
Promise me you'll come back to me.
"Come on, let's land, kid," he gripped the wheels again and turned to a circle to land the N1.
Din exited the ship. Beside him, Grogu followed him in his floating pod. Father and son both went to the centre where they awaited the high councils of Mandalore, who also just lowered the ramp of the Gauntlet, exiting the ship.
Bo exited first, helmet in one arm, walking confidently down the ramp. Following closely behind were Axe Woves, Koska Reeves, and the enigmatic Armorer. All of them are helmetless save for the Armorer. From where Din is, he can see a strong council ready to confront the complex politics of the galaxy, making him wonder if he should start learning its complexities to deal with such things.
They all walked towards the centre as well, joining Din. When they arrived by his side, Bo gave him a nod and he did the same. From the stairs of the port, they saw the Chief Baron walking towards them, along with two bodyguards behind him, well-armed and huge. They all look stern and strict, just like before.
Bo immediately walked forward, presenting herself properly, which Din had never seen from her before.
Awaiting them was Chief Baron, a robust figure in elaborate robes, adorned with symbols of Ming Po's storied history. His entourage, an impressive assembly of warriors and advisors, stood in formation, creating an avenue for the visitors.
"Bo-Katan Kryze," Chief Baron greeted with a bow, his hands pressed together in a way that must be a sign of respect from the Ming Po. A hint of formality in his voice, none out of grudge. "Welcome to New Ming Po."
Bo-Katan bowed as well, her gaze unwavering. Din and the rest of the Mandalorians followed suit with her gesture, "Chief Baron, it's an honour."
He nodded, "Come, I believe we have pressing matters to discuss," he said in a concerned tone, "And we can't stall any longer."
Bo gave him a stern face of respect but nodded, "Of course, anything to forge our alliance."
"So do I, now come," he turned away from them and walked back to where he came from, waving his hand and gesturing for them to come with him.
Bo let out a sigh of concern but followed anyway, the others followed behind her.
Grogu's pram floated a lot faster and went to her side, Din was worried that he might give her unwanted concern, but he began to babble something to her with a tone of concern that made him relax a little. His boy is sensitive to others' feelings, so perhaps his presence with her will ease that.
Bo took one glance at him and smiled, making Din relax a little. "I'm fine, little one. Do not worry," she told him.
Grogu chirped and continued to follow her.
"Your son is quite something, isn't he?" Koska whispered to Din.
Din chuckled, "Oh, wait ''til you see what happens if you restrain food from him."
Without further ado, the group was ushered into the city centre, making their way to the grand council room of New Ming Po. When they entered, Din couldn't help but look around in awe. The space was vast, with walls adorned with ancient tapestries and sophisticated designs of their rich culture. Even their long meeting table is carved with a sign of their culture, its legs curved and carved to perfection.
Unlike Mandalore, this place seems to harbour something Ancient and powerful that modern things cannot touch or intervene. If this is a rich cultural war between them, perhaps this planet would win.
At the centre stood a long, ornate table, with Chief Baron taking his place at its head while his councils sat on each side of him. Flanking him were his advisors, wise men and women who had seen many seasons come and go. Bo sat at the opposite, and soon Din and the others followed as well.
"As is our agreement," began Chief Baron, his voice echoing through the chamber, "a trial by combat will decide our dispute. Then, we can speak more about the alliance between our planets. Lady Bo-Katan Kryze, have you chosen your champion?"
The room's atmosphere grew tense. Bo-Katan hesitated, her eyes flicking briefly towards Din, her mouth opened but closed immediately before pursing her lips. As if afraid to speak the inevitable. Sensing her reluctance, Din stepped forward, his voice resolute. "Din Djarin," he said with pride and confidence, "I will be her champion."
A murmur ran through the room. Chief Baron, raising an eyebrow, replied, "Very well, Din Djarin. Prepare yourself."
the group made their way to the battlefield, a spacious expanse of land reminiscent of an ancient arena. The ground was flat and hard, but still filled with powdered snow, ideal for combat, and bordered by elevated platforms from where spectators could observe.
The expansive battlefield sprawled out like a pristine canvas, untouched and pure. Fresh snow had fallen, blanketing the ground in a thick layer of white that glistened under the sun. The arena was vast, a natural amphitheatre carved from years of erosion and framed by rising mounds of snow-covered earth, which served as natural barriers.
At one side of the arena stood a raised stage, a platform of dark, polished wood that contrasted starkly against the sea of white. Atop the platform, there are two high-backed chairs, intricately carved and padded with plush cushions.
Din guessed that it would be there that Bo and Chief Baron would sit, a position of prominence that allowed her to observe the duel from an elevated vantage point. To the sides of this chair, torches stood tall, their flames flickering and dancing, casting a warm orange glow and providing a beacon of light as the day's shadows began to lengthen.
Surrounding the arena, hundreds of Ming Po people had gathered. They stood in clusters, their breaths visible in the cold air, their eyes fixed on the centre where the combatants would soon engage in their duel. The anticipation was palpable, a tension that hung in the frosty air.
As the company walked into the arena, the gravity of the situation was palpable. Din took a deep breath and sighed, this is it. The trial by combat wasn't just about personal honour like he used to know; it symbolized the trust, unity, and hope of the Mandalorian creed. And as Din readied himself, the weight of those ideals rested firmly on Din's shoulders.
Din was not surprised that he wasn't led to some kind of prep room or anywhere where he could be ready, but the arena. They sure meant business. The warrior hasn't arrived yet, so he has time to take it all in and just…..breathe.
"Are you sure about this, Din?" Bo asked as she looked at him with a concerned gaze as she held Grogu, he could see the concern etching lines into her usually stoic face.
Din nodded, "I am."
"And you think you can win?" Axe added he didn't sound mocking or taunting like he used to with him, perhaps knowing how serious this was.
"I have to," Din said determinedly, his eyes through his visors meeting each of theirs in turn before finally resting on Grogu, who cooed at him with concern. He patted his fuzzy head before turning to the field, "The future of Mandalore is at stake. I have to win. And I'm going to."
His comrades all looked at each other for a moment before nodding at him, "Alright," Axe finally said, "Then we wish you luck, brother."
"Don't let your guard down," Koska added with a warning.
Din nodded, "I won't. Thank you."
The Armorer walked up to him, "I have seen through your training and assignments. Your passion and determination are what drove you to victory," she said, "I have confidence that you can win, but at the same time, you must be cautious, Din Djarin. The fate of Mandalore is in your hands."
He respectfully nodded, "Yes, Armorer. Thank you for the advice."
She nodded, "Now go, and bring us victory."
"I will," and at that, he turned around and entered the snowy spacious field, the fresh snow felt think under his boots as he walked to the middle. His heart raced with a mixture of determination and the weight of responsibility, he must win this battle.
A soft sound of footsteps crushing on the snow behind him heralded a presence, he turned around to see Bo, with Grogu, cradled securely in her arm while the other held her helmet. When she arrived in front of him, he could see the concern in her eyes.
"Din," her voice was a whisper, carrying a soft tone only he had heard many times during their days in the covert and their journey together. Not to mention, their last time during the celebration. The vast arena seemed to shrink around when she came to him, she looked around before turning to him, "You've faced many, but this... today... it feels different." She said with a reluctant tone.
Grogu, always so attuned to the emotions around him, reached out a tiny hand towards Din, to which he obliged, letting his little talons grip his right index finger. It was a simple touch, but he could feel the kid expressing all his concerns and encouragements through the Force. Then, looking earnestly up at Din, Grogu babbled something. The sounds were nonsensical to any other ear, but Din understood — it was his little way of rallying him, of expressing faith in his father figure.
He turned slightly, just enough to catch her gaze. "I have to admit, it's a lot of pressure. But for our home planet? I'll gladly do it," he said. "This is the way."
Bo didn't look convinced and placed her hand on Din's pauldron. "Din, you don't have to do this. Let one of us fight, postpone the battle."
He looked into her eyes, deep pools of blue that held years of struggle and defiance. "Another day wasted will be another day our people will suffer without resources," he reasoned to her, "We need their alliances, Bo. Preferably as fast as possible."
Her eyes moistened, a rare occurrence coming from her, much to his surprise. She sighed in defeat, "Then at least let me give you this," she said, reaching for a small object in her belt. It was a sigil, not just any signet, for he recognized it many times on her pauldron.
It is the signet of the Clan Kryze. It is a stylized owl, with its wings spread wide and its claws outstretched. It used to be Nite Owls, but ever since they retook Mandalore, such a faction doesn't exist any longer.
The signet has the emboss of the face of an owl, much like the design of her helmet.
Din knew how important this was, he shook his head, "I can't accept it, it's yours," Din protested softly. This is a lot to take in.
"Which is exactly why I'm giving it to you," she pressed the token into his gloved hand and closed his fingers around it. "In our culture, at least, in my house, we give this to our warrior whom we wish to return home from battle, to bring them luck," her voice was low as she said this, almost in a shy tone. Her green eyes stared at his through the visors with a piercing gaze, one he could get lost in, "Promise me," Bo-Katan's voice wavered just a touch, her eyes conveying a depth of emotion. "Promise you'll return, not just for Mandalore or the creed, but for us."
Grogu babbled in agreement, wanting to say the same words as her but only chitterings came out of his mouth.
There are times when Din wished that she could see his expression, and this is that moment. Dank Farrik, he wants to kiss her! But it'll have to wait. He has a duel to win.
He clasped her hand and gave it a gentle squeeze, "I will, Lady Kryze. You have my word," Din's response was quiet but firm, "For today, for our future, I'll give it my all." He paused, the weight of their shared history and hopes to fill the silence, "This is the way."
Bo nodded, she met his eyes squarely, the intensity of her gaze unwavering and squeezed his hand back before letting it go. Once she did, Din immediately felt the loss of her warmth, wishing she could stay longer. "This is the way," she replied.
Just as in queue, from the opposite side of the field, a warrior emerged. He was tall, clad in heavy Ming Po armour, shimmering in silver and blue, his face hidden behind a mask of markings of their culture. In his hand, he held a massive, crescent-shaped spear, much like his old spear, the blade of which gleamed wickedly. His steps were confident, each footfall a declaration of his prowess.
Din turned back, moving his body so that he was facing his opponent. "Best get back, Bo," he said, "Looks like it's about to start."
"No turning back now," Bo murmured behind him, "Good luck." Din didn't turn back to watch her leave, but he could hear her footsteps fading away until he could only hear cheerings in the field.
Emerging from another end a powerful Guarlara, led by another local towards the warrior. This four-legged beast, covered in thick fur and equipped with deadly tusks, was a sight to behold. It snorted loudly as if telling him that he was ready for him.
The odds seemed heavily skewed against him. A mounted opponent, armed with a long-range weapon, presented a formidable challenge.
Well, kriff. This isn't that fair, he thought, they got a mount for this battle? And not just any mount, a strong one with the might equivalent to fighting a Mandalorian too.
But to be fair, he has his jetpack. Fueled and ready to blast. He can fly, but the mount can't.
But that won't stop Din from winning this, and he's not going to waste any more time.
He stood still, waiting for him to come to him.
Bring it on.
Grogu's cooing echoed a touch of anxiety, and Bo-Katan's hand involuntarily rested on the hilt of her blade, even if she was just a spectator today, her eyes so focused on the field.
As the warrior atop his steed began his taunting circle, Din remained a pillar of calm, grounded in his stance, yet fluid, ready to react. His fingers hovered near his concealed weapons, assessing the situation.
With a battle cry, the Guarla let out a mighty roar that the forest trees shook and launched forward, spear aimed at Din. The crowd cheered with excitement, knowing that the battle had started. Din Djarin, seemingly unfazed by his adversary.
Bo's eyes darted between Din and the advancing threat, confusion already sipping into her heart. Holding Grogu close, she could feel the child's heartbeat, fast and in sync with her own. Anxiety gripped her. What are you doing, Din?
Din still hasn't moved from his spot, still standing still like a statue. Instead, he slowly drew his vibroblade, its humming edge gleaming menacingly. To an onlooker, it seemed almost foolhardy, bringing a blade to face the might of a charging guarlara and its rider.
Even the audience was sceptical of his choice of weapon.
"Is he having a death wish?"
"I'm no fighter, but I know a small blade is nothing compared to a spear."
"What is he doing?"
Even Axe and Koska, watching with the Armorer at the sidelines like the other audience, are just as worried as she is.
"What in Mustafar are you doing, Djarin!" Axe shouted in annoyance and anxiety at him. But DIn still remained still.
All are worried save little Grogu, who seemingly oblivious to the imminent danger, clapped his tiny hands in excitement, his bright eyes fixed on Din.
As the distance between Din and the charging warrior began to diminish, Bo's heart raced. "Come on, Din. What are you doing?" she whispered to herself, anxiety creeping into her voice.
Everyone was on the edge except Grogu, who was still babbling in encouragement to his father. What the boy can sense in Din is something she must know. How are both Father and Son not feeling anxious about all this?
But as the distance between Din and the charging Guarlara narrowed, a transformation occurred.
In one fluid, lightning-fast motion, he sidestepped quickly and hurled the vibroblade forward swiftly. The blade whirred through the air, finding its mark as it pierced the guarlara's flank.
The beast let out a pained roar, its momentum faltering, and the warrior was thrown off balance, tumbling to the powdered snow, his helmet came off too, rolling on the ground. The crowd gasped, even Bo felt stunned.
The Ming Po warrior tried to get back up again, getting up on his knees. Without missing a beat, just as he was about to stand up, Din activated his whipcord, the strong filament wrapping around the warrior, binding him. As the disoriented combatant struggled, Din was upon him. He kicked his chest until he was on the ground, his beskar blade gleaming in his hand. Din then placed his blade dangerously close to the warrior's throat.
"Yield," just like that, Din has demanded surrender from the warrior.
Bo's eyes widened at how fast the battle chose its victory. She watched as Din still held his blade to his opponent's throat, ready to slice his throat on one sudden false move. His head not looking anywhere else but the warrior. The creeping anxiety and concern for him began to lift a little, but still in a state of shock. It's as if Din didn't want to waste his time at all.
A moment later, the struggling warrior began to lower his head, "I yield," he said with a loud voice, announcing to everyone.
The crowd, which had held its collective breath, erupted into roars of approval. The duel, expected to be drawn out, had ended in a matter of moments.
Still bound and rendered useless, the warrior looked up at Din with eyes that bore pain and pride. Now that he's close and without Din can see his facial appearance.
The elder Ming Po is somewhat pale, and his eyes bore honesty. His hair is braided just like the other Ming Po, and his face contains artistic calligraphy that must've represented something, but his cheek obtains a scar that seems to be recent.
"Finish it," he rasped, his voice echoing in the chilling silence. His tattooed face looked at him with a plea, "End it, Mandalorian. It's our way. Grant me the honour that tradition dictates."
Din still has not moved from where he stood, blade still close to his throat. If this were any other bounty hunting, he would've finished the job.
But for some reason, this kill didn't seem right.
This man looked like a good man. From his eyes, he can see the honour in him. The conviction for his home. And most of all, honesty. Something that the galaxy is lacking today.
The Chief Baron of Ming Po stepped forward, his regal robes trailing behind him on the pristine snow. "The trial has clear rules, Mandalorian. One must fall on the battlefield. Fulfill the tradition."
All of this. This isn't right.
After several moments of silence, he sighed. He retracted his cord, freeing the warrior, and with his blade, pointed at the fallen innocent steed, "The Guarla," his voice firm and unwavering, "paid the ultimate price in this trial. It has fulfilled the conditions of sacrifice."
A hushed whisper passed among the gathered crowd. All vocalizing his choice to spare the warrior. Even Bo looked shocked, while his son clapped at him innocently. The murmurs grew louder in the snowy expanse, filling the atmosphere with a sense of confusion and disbelief.
The Chief Baron's eyes, sharp and analyzing, bore into Din, seeking understanding. "Why?" his voice rang out, mirroring his confusion with the Armorer, silencing the whispers. Din turned to see the Chief sitting up from his stage and walked forward so that he could look at him properly. "Mandalorian, explain your choice of breaking the ancient traditions of your kind."
Recognizing the uncertainty in the air, Din stepped forward, looking at the people surrounding the field of snow.
"Traditions are important, but we also have the power to choose," Din began, his voice echoing with determination and passion, "The Empire plundered worlds, invading homes, slaughtering the people living there and turning them into dust. Are we to be just another reflection of that tyranny?"
There were murmurs amongst the audience, questions and opinions of what Din was talking about.
"The Empire did destroy half of our planet a lot more than the Death Watch," he heard one of them say.
"But that's probably because they knew Death Watch was involved," the other replied.
"But he spared him, are we sure that they are Death Watch?"
"Maybe he lied, just like how that Vizla guy did."
Din heard them, he knew they still bore the scars of Death Watch. He took a deep breath, each word carrying the weight of his convictions. He must reassure trust, "The name Death Watch, in itself, is already dead. Long before the Empire rose to power. That way is dead, thanks to Lady Bo-Katan Kryze here," he used his hand to gesture at Bo, who is stunned to single her out, "Lady Kryze fought the radical Death Watch and brought us all Mandalorians back to our routes, where we value character, honour and loyalty. Something Death Watch lacks.
"These traits are what brought us all together from fractured factions, and now, we would like to do the same with you," he said, "We will not repeat the same history of Death Watch and Ming Po, those days are over. We don't need to spill blood to forge bonds. We need understanding," He then turned to the warrior he defeated, "My culture values family above everything else, I'm certain you have one waiting at home."
The Ming Po warrior pursed his lips before nodding, "I do."
Din offered his hand, which the warrior took as he pulled him up to his feet, "Do you accept my choice?"
He nodded without hesitation, "I do," he said with a rough voice, "Thank you."
Din nodded back, "This is the way." He then turned back to face the Chief, doing his best to ignore Bo's gaze in order to reach the same conclusion, "What do you, Chief Baron?" he asked, "Do you accept our proposal?"
The Chief furrowed his pointy brows before turning to Bo, looking for her opinion.
She nodded, "My warrior, Din Djarin, spoke the truth," she said, "we do not wish to slaughter anyone. Mandalore has seen enough bloodshed. We are here to form an alliance of trust, not of dominance. But he has defeated your man, isn't that enough conclusion for this trial?"
Chief Baron thought for a moment, closing his eyes. He took a moment to absorb Din's words, drumming his fingers on his lap. The audience too, held their collective breath, struck by the weight of the message. Even Din is praying in his heart that he will take up this offer.
"Accept his offer, Chief Baron."
A feminine but strong shout, kind of like Bo's, echoed from the crowd broke their attention from the Chief and before he could respond, a figure began making her way through the murmuring crowd.
Din had to blink twice to recognize the woman coming to him. Her thick red fur clothes, most likely from the Ming Po, wrapped around her little body, making her somewhat look like Grogu. Her raven braided hair hung at her back, and her squared jaws looked as if she's ready to give anyone an earful but at the same time, the gentle words of a mother and her tanned skin glowed under the winter sun.
There is no mistaking who this is.
"Omera?" Din's head finally clicked.
Stopping a few paces from Din, she greeted him. "Mando."
"Omera," he felt dumbfounded finally seeing her now after all this time, "What are you doing here?"
"I'll explain it later," she said warmly as usual, "But right now, all you need to know is that I'm returning the favour," she winked at him, making him blink. Well, she definitely got a lot more confident. Omera turned to face the Chief. "Chief Baron," she began, her voice firm, "I know this man, and he speaks the truth, and only the truth."
The Chief, Baron, frowned slightly but did not interrupt. "Omera, not now."
"He speaks the truth," Omera repeated again with a louder voice, ignoring the Chief's orders. "When our village at Sorgan was raided, many of us suffered. Many lost everything, including our farm. But when the Mandalorian came to our aid in our most desperate hour, it was not with the intent to conquer, but to help, to save."
She looked towards Din, their shared memories of Sorgan unspoken but deeply felt. "If he chooses mercy today, it's not out of weakness, but from strength. From the understanding that the cycles of bloodshed and revenge do not lead to victory or peace, but only more pain."
There was silence. The wind was the only sound amidst the stillness. All eyes were on Omera, then shifting to Din, and finally to the Chief. Even he saw Bo just as confused as he was.
Finally, after an eternity of deafening silence, the Chief stood up from his seat. He walked steadily to the edge of the platform and raised his hand, "Your words have merit, Mandalorian. We, of Ming Po, are willing to set aside traditions for a future of peace." The leader of Ming Po then pointed at the fallen steed, "The Mandalorian speaks with wisdom. The Guarla's life stands as a testament. Let that be the blood price paid."
The crowd broke into quiet murmurs of agreement, and the tension began to dissipate.
This time, he raised both hands, "We stand on the precipice of a new era. Today, we can choose a different path — one that values alliances, understanding, and growth over relentless warfare." He announced to the crowd, "From this day forward, we, the citizens of Ming Po, shall acknowledge Mandalore as our new ally."
After several moments, the crowd broke into cheers and claps, sounding agreeable to this new proposal of a new future.
Din sighed in relief, thanking the Force that this went smoother than he expected. He won, and at the same time, brought trust amongst the people who held a long grudge against his people.
He can hear Grogu squealing happily. The boy struggled in Bo's arms before she released him, he was forced to jump out of her lap and catapulted himself towards him.
Din, by his new instinct, ever since he found Grogu, ran near the platform before he could land on the ground. Once he was in his arms, he lifted his little arms up in a cheering manner at him.
Din chuckled, "Not bad, huh?"
He nodded vigorously and planted his cheek on his chest, "Buir!"
"Well, you put on quite a show there," Omera said beside him, "And that's quite a speech you got there."
He shrugged, "Anything to get our planet alliance smoother," helmet then tilting at the side, "What are you doing here, anyway?"
"You," the deep voice boomed from his side, making them turn and stop whatever Omera wanted to say. The Ming Po warrior stood tall, if he didn't know any better, it would look as if he wanted to fight again. But instead, he clasped his hands in front of him and bowed respectfully, "Thank you for sparing my life."
Feeling the gratitude from the warrior, he gave his culture's form of respect too, placing his fisted hand on his chest, "It is what my Mand'alore would choose too."
He nodded, "Then Mandalore has greatly changed for the better since Death Watch."
"They have," he said with confidence, "And it will keep thriving with your help, and in turn, we would do the same."
"It will be an honour to join sides with honourable people such as yourself."
"Same here," he replied.
"I see you haven't changed, Mando," Din turned to see Omera looking at him warmly, eyes so welcoming, just like before, "Always trying to do what's right."
"It's what I have been taught," he replied.
Her dark eyes then turned to Grogu, who was looking at her with amusement, "And it looks like you managed to keep this little one alive and happy," she brushed his chubby cheeks with her delicate hands, making the child purring like a loth cat.
"Spoiling him as always," he said, earning a chuckle from her. Force, it has been so long since he saw her, and he's glad that his friend is safe now. At least, that's what he thinks. "We have a lot to catch up."
"Oh, we definitely do," she laughed gently, "I'd like to know what you've been up to since we parted ways, and," she lowered herself to Grogu's eye level, hands on her knees, "why this child is still with you after you told me that you're looking for a safer place for him." As she says this, Grogu lifts his tiny hand and touches her cheek, making her laugh.
He chuckled, "Wherever I go, he goes."
She snorted, "This is the way, I guess."
Bo-Katan watched Din and this new woman interact her surroundings turned deaf.
The soft timbre of their voices couldn't reach her, but the warm familiarity between them was unmistakable. Even Grogu, nestled securely in Din's arm, seemed at ease, reaching out every so often to touch Omera's hand or hair.
Bo's initial curiosity transformed into a feeling she couldn't quite place. Din's usually stoic demeanour seemed different — there was a softness to him, a vulnerability that she hadn't seen before. The intensity of their conversation and the gentle manner in which Din held Grogu while engaging with Omera gave Bo an odd sense of being on the outside, looking in.
Trying to push the unfamiliar sensation aside, she took a deep breath, her exhale visible in the cool air. The weight of leadership and the responsibility for her clan's future had always been paramount, but in this quiet moment, personal feelings threatened to emerge, feelings she hadn't anticipated.
What's going on, Bo? This is not you! She thought to herself.
In the audience, Koska and Axe watched their leader looking at Din and this new girl. They too didn't like the sight of the battlefield where it suddenly looked testy.
He moved closely to Koska's side, "I don't like where this is going," Axe murmured softly to her.
"Same," she replied.
So this took a long time because I was wondering how to write this, but it seems ok….I think? This is longer than usual, so I hope you like it!
The duel was inspired from GOT where Daario fought the Mereen horseman. Pretty badass if you ask me, and I want DIn to be more badass since season 3 kinda stripped him out of it. Gotta say, I actually like it. Do You?
Do let me know!
I like writing jealous Bo hahaha and our boy seems so oblivious I feel like that fits him so much. Can't wait to write the next one!
As usual, comments would gladly motivate me :) Do share your thoughts!
See ya!
Claire