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Episode 6
Title: "The Wedding (No, Not That One)"
Chapter 2
Genre: BoDin, CaraMed, slow burn romance, hurt/comfort, humor, drama, angst, fluff, family vibes
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"Cara!" Med raised his hand, spotting the familiar braid and shoulder armor of his friend through the crowd of revelers. Cara waved back, walking over to where the medic was sitting at a table off to the side of the reception area.
"Sorry I'm late, I had to tie up a few things before I could leave. Looks like I missed the ceremony but at least I'm here for the party. This is quite the shindig. I didn't think Mandalorians did this sort of thing for a wedding."
Med looked at the activity in the reception area. Cara could sense him growing pensive, carefully considering how to respond to her almost-question. She sat down opposite him at the table, her own eyes observing everything happening around them.
People were talking, laughing, Nite Owls were eating and drinking at the tables which had been set up in a circular formation, leaving a large empty space in the center. Temporary enclaves had also been put up and Cara saw members of Din and Med's clan duck behind the curtains carrying food and drinks so they could partake of the lavish meal that had been prepared for the celebration.
"You're right," Med finally agreed, pulling Cara's attention away from the crowd. "Weddings aren't typically this big of an affair, not even for Mandalorians of other tribes, according to the Nite Owls I've spoken to."
"I thought Din said that a Mandalorian wedding didn't even have to be witnessed to be binding."
"That's correct. We are a warrior race and many of our traditions are born from battle. If two people decide to marry one another, they only need to say the vows to each other and in our culture, they are bound together – spiritually, legally, however you want to call it."
"Wow, that's pretty simple."
"Marriage vows were designed that way, to facilitate joining together even in the midst of war."
"I take it the vows must be quick then."
"Ah, that's right, you missed the ceremony. They are indeed quite short. Simply four lines."
Cara couldn't help her smile when Med began reciting quietly in Mando'a.
"Mhi solus tome, mhi solus dar'tome, mhi me'dinui an, mhi ba'juri verde."
Although she couldn't understand the words, Cara found the vows almost… magical. It was the language of Din's people, but she hadn't heard him speak it often. In fact, those may have been the most words she'd heard of Mando'a at any one time.
"What does it mean?" she asked.
"We are one when together, we are one when parted, we will share all, we will raise warriors."
"That's… beautiful. I had no idea Mandalorians could be so…romantic."
"Don't let the armor fool you, some of us are quite romantic when we want to be."
For whatever reason, Cara didn't think Med was using "we" in the general sense. Even with the helmet, the way he was regarding her made warmth climb up her neck. She looked away just as Med cleared his throat.
"But it's true that a celebration such as this was unheard of in our covert," he continued. "At least for many years, certainly since Din and I were taken in as foundlings. But we are celebrating Mandalore today and our planet's return to her former glory. Lady Kryze wanted to make the occasion a special one and arranged for a celebration befitting the first Mandalorian wedding here since the Purge."
"I'm glad she invited me, it's an honor to be here for this."
"She did? I assumed it was Din."
"He knows I'm coming, but I haven't actually spoken to Din in a few weeks. Bo contacted me about a week ago and asked if I wanted to come. How could I resist seeing my very first Mandalorian marriage ceremony? Or in this case, my first Mandalorian wedding reception, since I missed the ceremony itself."
"Well then, let's make sure you see everything. Care to join me to get something to eat? I think a few of the partitions are empty now."
After they got their food, Med picked up a metal goblet of wine from one of the tables and handed it to her. Cara was surprised to see that the vessel was made of beskar.
"I thought beskar was rare, but they're making goblets out of it?"
"It's not as rare now that we have our mines back. And this is a lesser quality, one that the armorers will not use for armor."
"Ah."
Cara took the wine to have with dinner, though she saw spotchka being served as well and promised herself she'd have some of that later. She was here to celebrate after all. What would it hurt to have something a bit stronger?
They settled into two adjacent tables in the temporary enclaves. Cara left her curtain open so she could watch the festivities while they ate and chatted. Once they finished, Med put their plates on a waiting table, clearing out the spaces for others to use. Cara took the opportunity to grab some of the spotchka which was being served in beskar cups, sipping it as they walked. The brew was some of the best she'd ever tasted. She reminded herself to take it easy, knowing only too well the headache she faced if she over-imbibed on the strong drink.
"Where's Din by the way?" It surprised Cara when she realized she hadn't asked about Din's whereabouts before that moment.
"Last I saw him, he and Grogu were still in the Great Forge cavern with Bo. That's where the ceremony was held."
"I guess I'll just have to keep hanging out with you, then."
"I hope I don't disappoint."
Cara chuckled as she sat down in the chair Med politely pulled out for her at an empty table they found at the edge of the circle. The ex-dropper wasn't usually one to let men pull out chairs for her, but for some reason she didn't mind just then.
"Did you have a good trip?" Med asked when he settled into the chair across from her.
She gave him a questioning look.
"Your vacation."
"Oh. Yeah, it was good to get away." Cara had nearly forgotten she'd told Med about her plans to take some time off after her last mission.
Whatever Med was going to say next was cut off by the sound of drums. Cara looked over in curiosity, finding a group of musicians on a raised dais she hadn't noticed before on the other side of the circle from them.
"Music?" She turned to Med with her eyebrows up.
"Surprised?"
"I…well, yeah. I never knew Mandalorians had music as part of their culture."
Med didn't say anything, watching as her gaze returned to the musicians. When her expression took on a faraway look, Med found himself wondering what she might be thinking.
The drums picked up their beat and Cara's smile widened, her head nodding along ever so slightly with the rhythm. Med's heart swelled in his chest, and he felt himself take a deep breath, his chest armor rising when he saw her response to the music.
A part of him was tempted to mention that music amongst his clan wasn't as rare as she might have assumed. But he didn't feel ready to reveal that part of himself just yet. As much as he'd felt like he could have told her anything during their last conversation, music was something he didn't know how to explain to himself. Did he still want to play? Would he ever write a full song again? Did he want to perform again, even if just for his family? Until he could answer those questions in his own mind, Med decided it was best not to mention that aspect of his life.
But as Cara's smile got bigger and her gaze turned almost mesmerized, he couldn't help but to have a stray thought cross his mind.
Maybe I will play for someone again…someday.
The drums kept up their beat. Most of the players were Children of the Watch, used to only playing for short ceremonies. Med could tell they were enjoying the chance to let loose and create actual music for entertainment. They were soon joined by a few other musicians with different instruments.
As the music continued, Med and Cara fell into another easy conversation. They chatted and laughed, trading more stories about various adventures they'd both had in their lives.
Cara talked about her travels with Din, discussing the various missions they had done together since meeting on Sorgan all those years ago. Med was surprised to find that Cara knew a lot about his brother, things that not a lot of people did.
"I will tell you one thing though, something I bet you don't know about him," Med announced, knowing that Din wouldn't mind him sharing this particular tidbit, considering how much his brother had already told Cara.
"What? Tell me." Cara leaned forward eagerly, interested to find out what Med wanted to share about his brother.
"Din is a better dancer than he'll ever let on."
Cara sat back, her mouth dropping open before she grinned and punched Med in the shoulder lightly.
"Bantha crap. Don't lie to me, Rosca."
Med laughed and shook his head. "I'm not kidding. He's actually very good at it. I suppose it makes sense."
"Why?"
Warriors must learn to control their bodies, there's even a rhythm to sparring and fighting. Two bodies moving together as one, it's not that dissimilar to a dance.
Cara nodded in agreement with his assessment. She'd had similar thoughts about fighting and dancing, though never in relation to herself.
"Except in a fight, the other person is trying to at least maim you, if not outright kill you," Cara pointed out. "I don't think people are usually trying to kill each other while dancing."
"Maybe not on purpose. It all depends on how klutzy one of the partners is."
Cara laughed. "True. I'm sure that would be me, then. Killing my dance partner purely by accident. More deadly on a dancefloor than the battlefield, that sounds about right."
"Somehow, I doubt that."
The drums had paused for a few minutes and now started up again, this time joined by a wind instrument being played by a Nite Owl. The sound of the new tune brought on a cheer as more people jumped into the circle.
Med got up and held out his hand, the other behind his back as he bowed low before her like a gentleman, which made Cara laugh again.
"Come on, let's see if you can manage to not kill me," Med said, reaching for her hand.
Cara had had just enough spotchka that she didn't fight (too much) when Med pulled her to her feet. Following him into the middle of the other dancing Mandalorians, Cara thought about how this was something Din had never done with her. On Sargon after the battle, they had sat and watched from the sidelines while the villagers celebrated well into the night, drinking and dancing. Cara and Din had chosen to simply partake of the spotchka instead, which had loosened their lips if not their hips. They'd shared a lot with each other that night about their backgrounds and it was then that she'd truly started to see Din as a friend, not just a person she'd done a job with. The more she got to know Med, the more Cara appreciated this new friend, someone who was sort of like Din but also not at all.
Med pulled Cara into the dance area, attempting to show her some of the steps that he and the other Children of the Watch were doing. Cara tried to emulate him and failed miserably, laughing at herself. The spotchka, the music, the other gyrating bodies took away any shyness she might have had at trying something as ridiculous as dancing.
The moves were fast, and Med kept trying to teach Cara the steps, but she ended up stomping on his feet more than once.
"Okay maybe I was wrong. Maybe it is possible to kill your dance partner," he groused with a smile she could hear.
"Hey!" Cara punched him in the arm.
"Ow! That's not making things any better, you know."
"You're just lucky that's all I did. Insult my dancing again and I'll take you down, Rosca."
"Promise?"
Cara laughed as he spun her around. After a while they were both laughing so hard it was a wonder either one of them stayed on their feet. When the music changed, they stepped aside, catching their breath on the sidelines as other dancers continued to move around them.
"This is turning out to be the perfect way to come back from my vacation before going on duty again."
"I'm glad. I told Din that asking you to do a job when you were planning to have some time to yourself was wrong. I told him not to bother you before…"
"You did what?" Cara was still struggling to catch her breath, but immediately stood up taller at Med's words.
"I told Din to leave you alone."
"When?"
"Before your trip…?" Med was becoming puzzled by her tone and the intensity of her gaze. All semblance of the happy, laughing Cara from just moments before was gone.
"And why did he want to bother me, as you put it?"
Med could see her hackles getting raised, though he truly didn't know why.
"He had a mission and needed backup so…"
"And you told him not to contact me?"
"I just said that you had mentioned you were going to take some time off, and I suggested he leave you alone. After our talk, I knew you wanted to get away so…"
"You told Din to not take me on a job? On a mission where he needed me?"
"It's okay," Med said reassuringly, wondering if her anger was simply a manifestation of her worry about Din, knowing how close the two were. "He ended up taking Bo."
"But he didn't ask me. Because of… you?"
"Yes, but like I said, I knew you were planning a trip."
"How did that give you the right to decide if I should do a job or not? Are you suddenly my superior officer now?"
"No, of course not. I…"
"Because I have one of those already. A few, in fact. I don't need another one."
Cara's voice had gotten louder and that, along with the fact that they were now standing in the dance area rather than dancing in it, was starting to catch people's attention. Though neither of them had noticed the heads turning their way as others continued to dance around them.
"Cara, you're taking this all wrong. I…"
"You what, Med? You what? You were just trying to control me? Well, you can kriff off! I don't need anyone to control me or baby me or whatever it was you thought you were doing. I can take care of myself!"
Med felt his own hackles raise at her vicious tone. Most people thought of him as soft-spoken, the affable medic, but he had a temper like anyone else. It usually took a while for him to get ruffled, but once that happened, he was ready to do battle.
"I'm not going to apologize for doing something I thought was in your best interests. I wasn't trying to control you, Cara. And I think you know that, so what's this really about?"
Cara ignored his question, zeroing in on the other part of what he'd said. "My best interests? How do you know what's in my best interests? You barely know me! I've known Din for years. I only met you a couple of months ago. You have no idea what I need or what I want."
"And Din does? Is that what you're trying to say?"
"Sure, more than you do, anyway. That much is obvious."
"Really? Well, if my brother knew you so well then what about this? Did you ever think that maybe he shouldn't have listened to me? Maybe he should have ignored me and asked you to go on the mission anyway."
"Oh, you're absolutely right, and I'm going to tear him a new one for that later." She stared at Med furiously, hands on her hips.
It was at that point Med finally realized how many eyes were on them. He took a deep breath to steady himself, then reached for Cara's arm.
"Come on, let's find someplace to talk about this. In private." He nodded significantly at the people around them.
Cara flinched at his touch, yanking her arm away before his fingers made contact.
"There's nothing to talk about. You know what? I guess I should be happy I found out who you really were before this friendship went on too much longer. Before I…"
"Before you what?"
"Never mind. I'm out of here."
With that, Cara stomped off, leaving a dumbfounded Med in her wake. As the space between them grew larger, they both had the same thought.
What the kriff just happened?
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Cara marched around the reception area, looking for Din. After a few minutes, she finally saw Bo, who had just stepped away from a group of people. The guests had obviously come from offworld to see the wedding, as all were dressed in formal ceremonial clothing and not Mandalorian armor.
"Do you know where Din is?" Cara asked when she walked up to Bo.
The soldier looked tense, and Bo frowned to see it, wondering what caused Cara to feel that way at what was supposed to be a celebration.
"I had to speak with some visitors, so we got split up," Bo told her. "It's getting late, he might have taken Grogu over to be with the other children and the Guardians. They're playing games and telling stories so the parents can relax at the reception."
Cara didn't say anything, but Bo noticed her looking around, as if hoping Din would show up any second.
"Do you want to try and find him? I can take you over there if you like."
Cara shook her head with a sigh. As much as she wanted to yell at Din, she didn't want to do it in front of his kid and the other children. Also, the longer she was away from Med, the less anger she felt toward Din. It hadn't completely disappeared, but it was easing a bit.
Her anger at Med, however? That was still burning as brightly as ever.
"No, that's okay," Cara answered Bo's question. "I'll just… yell at him later."
Cara had mumbled the last bit, but Bo still caught it, her eyebrows going up.
"Is everything okay?"
"Everything is fine. Or it will be as soon as I get a chance to tell off Din." Cara had gotten it into her head that if she yelled at Din then she would rid herself of this strange feeling that was eating her alive. Something that made her skin crawl and her hands shake. It was similar to rage so she figured now that she'd yelled at Med, surely yelling at Din would make this go away, right?
"Uh oh, what did he do?" Bo asked worriedly. Thus far, other than some good-natured razzing, she hadn't seen the two of them get angry at each other.
"It's what he didn't do."
"Oh."
"Now as for Med, him I want to keeping yelling at for what he did do."
"Okay."
Cara saw the confusion on her friend's face and sighed before making a decision. Perhaps this wasn't the best time to try and speak to Din. She was still struggling to figure out what had happened and why she was so angry about it all.
"I'm sorry Bo, I hate to leave early but I'm just not in the partying mood anymore."
"Are you sure? Why don't we go find a place to sit, maybe it will help to talk about it."
Cara shook her head. "No, I just need to be mad for a little while and it's better if I do that on my own. I don't want to ruin everyone's fun."
"You wouldn't be…" Bo started to protest.
"It's okay, really. I'll be fine. I'll contact you in a few days. Thanks again for inviting me."
"Of course."
Just as Cara turned to leave, Bo caught sight of Med staring at them. Cara spotted him too and it didn't go unnoticed by Bo that the look Cara shot the medic could have peeled paint off beskar.
That's a lot of anger for two people who don't know each other that well, Bo thought. It made the Mand'alor wonder if there was more happening between Cara and Med than friendship. Or at least the beginnings of what could be more than just friendship.
It never occurred to the Mandalorian princess that their anger was very similar to what she and Din had experienced when they'd first met on the trawler. And again, after she'd recruited him to help take the freighter from the Imperials – when she'd changed the terms of their deal and faced his wrath for the first time.
Before Bo could ponder any further, she was interrupted by another visitor. She turned to smile and greet them, putting aside what she had seen between Cara and Med.
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Din returned to the main reception area after dropping Grogu off with the Guardians who had volunteered to forego the festivities to look after the children that night. He originally planned to keep the boy with him, but after Grogu stuffed his face with enough food to take down a bantha, the kid had started whining.
Grogu seemed to enjoy the music for a little while and even sat outside the partition while Din ate a quick dinner of his own. But once Din finished, the little one kept looking for his friends and asking where Ragnar and the other younglings were. Finally, Din brought him to the childcare area and Grogu scampered off immediately, joining a group of children playing games at a table.
Din had been surprised to notice himself feeling a little melancholy at the realization that the little one who'd once sat happily anywhere, as long as he was with Din, wasn't the same child. Grogu might be maturing at a much slower rate compared to most other species, but he was still growing up. He had his own friends now and wasn't content to simply sit around with his father if he had the option of playing.
But as sad as it made Din to see his boy outgrowing something that simple, it also made him proud. Din was all too aware that he wasn't going to be there for many of the milestones other parents got with their children. He was determined to relish each one he got, no matter how inconvenient they might be at the time.
Satisfied that his son was happy, Din was now scanning the crowd, looking for Med, Cara and Bo. He knew Cara had been invited and wanted to catch up with her since he hadn't seen her at the ceremony.
He finally spotted Med, sitting by himself at a table a little off from the rest.
"Enjoying the celebration?" Din asked as he took a seat.
"Sure," Med said noncommittally.
Din frowned under his helmet. Med's tone was unusual, and Din wondered what had happened to cause the medic stress.
"Everything all right?"
"I'm fine."
Med didn't seem inclined to say anything else. When his brother got like that, Din found it was usually best to let him work things out on his own until he was ready to talk.
"Have you seen Cara?" Din asked, hoping to change the subject. Unfortunately, he had no way of knowing that was the exact wrong this say just then.
Suddenly Med leapt to his feet, nearly crashing into Bo as she came over to join them.
"I think I'm going to turn in. Good night, my lady, brother."
"Good night, Med," Bo said, but Med was already walking away.
"Do you know what happened with him? And have you seen Cara? She said she was coming but I haven't seen her," Din asked as they watched Med walk off.
"Cara already left a little while ago, while you were taking Grogu to the Foundling Hall. As for Med, I don't actually know what happened. I have a feeling, but I don't think I should speak on it. He should tell you himself."
Din almost went after Med but decided against it. He knew his brother well enough to know that the medic needed some time to cool off before he would want to talk about whatever was bothering him. Med didn't have a quick temper, but once it flared up, that anger could be seemingly inexhaustible. It was best to let him settle down and find out more another time.
And if Cara was angry, Din was going to stay away from her as well. Far away. While Med's anger was usually slow to ignite, Cara's was usually instantaneous. Though interestingly enough, both could hold onto that flame for a while. Either way, Din was going to stay out of both their ways until they cooled off.
After Med left, Din and Bo sat together at the table, watching the dancers and listening to the music.
"I have to admit, I was surprised to see some of the musicians were from your tribe," Bo said, nodding toward the drummers on the dais. "Did you have a lot of music in your covert?"
"We had…some," Din admitted, not wanting to discuss Med's participation in music until his brother was ready to do that himself. "Though typically it was just drums for ceremonies, what few we had, such as the Creed ceremonies."
She nodded.
"I'm also surprised to hear different types of music from your clan," Din said. "I didn't realize Nite Owls had such a wide range of musical talent."
"When I was younger, we had music in the palace. Before the Purge, our people were multifaceted, and some were more than simply warriors. Many had other talents as well. Not unlike yourself."
"Me?" Din huffed an amused breath. "My only talent is fighting, if you can call it that."
"First of all, that's exactly what I would call it, and second of all, there's more to it than just that. Being able to find a quarry that others can't, knowing the exact way to take down an enemy you've never battled before – I'd call those talents."
He shrugged. "I guess."
"But I wasn't talking about that. You have another talent, another gift as well."
"What?"
"Cooking." She saw him about to protest and stopped him. "You do, Din. Cooking is an art form, especially the way you do it. I've had enough of your meals to see that to you it's more than just heating up something you threw together. You put thought into the ingredients, into how they will work with each other. You adjust recipes to fit what Grogu likes, what others like. You are an artist, whether you realize it or not."
"Thank you," Din coughed a bit, and she could almost feel the blush heating up his skin, which made her smile.
"I'm happy to see this," she waved a hand around them, "happening on Mandalore again. We're getting back to those better days, where we have people who are architects and shipmasters, others growing crops in the gardens. Even the armorers are artists in their own right, and now they're able to create more than just armor. We have other things made of beskar, now that they have their mines back."
"And I really like seeing this again," she indicated the dancing happening in the middle of the tables. Bo observed the steps that Din's people did were different than ones she'd grown up watching. The dances are tribal, energetic, reminiscent of fighting techniques. Exactly what you'd expect from a race of warriors. She had witnessed similar dances in her youth, though there had also been slower, more intimate ones.
After a few minutes, Bo was drawn away to engage with other guests. The event had sparked discussions about trade routes. Those who had once been hesitant to trade with a planet that had nearly been destroyed were now more open to the idea, having witnessed firsthand how Mandalore was thriving once again.
Through her talks, moving from group to group, Bo noticed Din keeping to himself. He seemed to be enjoying the festivities though. She even saw him get spotchka and go into an enclave to drink down a flagon. He came out of the enclosure faster than she would have expected. Either Din could handle his liquor, or perhaps he hadn't poured a lot into his cup.
Once he was settled back at the table again, the music was really picking up and Bo began to observe something intriguing. She watched as one woman approached Din, then more kept coming up to speak to him. From the gestures they were making, it was clear they were trying to get him to dance. While many were from his clan, it amused Bo to see some of her own Nite Owls were vying for his attention as well.
Of course they would, he's…. Bo was startled when she found herself on the verge of thinking "handsome." Yet how could she apply that word, even in her mind, to a man whose face she'd never seen?
But then she reasoned that it could apply to the man himself, to his personality, his loyalty and kindness, to his bravery, and the love and devotion to his son. Without realizing it, Bo had somehow come to the conclusion that Din was a beautiful man. And if she thought so, surely other women would too. That shouldn't surprise her.
What did surprise her was the feeling of irritation that grew as more women continued to approach Din. She was fully aware she didn't have the right to feel that way. Din was an adult and could do what he liked. She knew he'd had… experiences with women.
And tonight was a celebration – he had even decided to indulge in the premium-grade spotchka she'd imported specifically for the event. She'd told him to relax more, and he was apparently taking her advice, knowing his son would be fine with the Guardians and other children. There was no reason for Din to feel guilty if he wanted to ….step away with any of the women currently trying to get him to dance.
Deep down, Bo knew she should be happy for him. Din deserved someone in his life. But much like her (admittedly ridiculous) annoyance with the helmet rule, this irritation at seeing Din with other women was beyond explanation. The longer she watched women approach Din, trying to get him to join them on the dance floor, the higher her displeasure rose.
Din politely turned down another invitation to join in the dance. He'd once heard that in some cultures, the females waited to be approached by the males. Not so with Mandalorians. Though they hadn't often celebrated in such a manner during his time with his clan, their ways said that anyone could approach anyone else if they had an interest, in dancing… or other things.
Din had chosen to imbibe, knowing Grogu was happy and enjoying himself with the other children. They had a home here, so he didn't have to worry about flying back to Nevarro. He was free to enjoy the festivities as much as he liked, though for the moment he was more than content to simply watch from the sidelines.
"All right, enough sitting around, time to get out onto the floor, brother."
Din looked up to find one of the women from his clan standing in front of him, arms crossed, helmeted head tipped sideways.
"Hi Chellara."
"Don't 'Hi Chellara' me and try to give me that cold beroya stare. As if that will scare me away. You're getting out there whether you like it or not."
"Aren't you dancing with Anari?" Din happened to know that his friend had grown very close to one of the Nite Owls.
"Yes, but she's tired and decided to sit this one out. Whereas I'm not tired at all and I spotted you sitting here like a chunk of scrap beskar. Come on, how many times did we ever get the chance to do this growing up?"
Din huffed a chuckle. Not many, he thought.
"Don't make me drag you to your feet and prove to everyone here that I'm the stronger one. Which we've both known since we took our vows on the same day, and I began besting you on the wrestling grounds not long after."
"It was only a few times, Chellara," Din grumbled without rancor.
"Still, I beat the great Din Djarin. How many can say that? Come on, loosen up, it's a party. I know you know how to do this. Don't forget, I've seen you before, remember?"
Din sighed, finally letting the woman pull him to his feet.
Across the gathering space, Bo was deep in conversation with delegates from a planet that had a strong wood trade. It was a commodity which they desperately needed with the scant number of trees on Mandalore. Out of the corner of her eye, she caught sight of a familiar suit of armor. Din had apparently finally given in to one of the multiple invitations and was now being led into the dance circle by another member of his clan. A woman Bo didn't know, though she was fairly certain she'd seen her around a few times.
Suddenly Bo found herself unable to concentrate on trade routes or vital wood commodities. She smiled and nodded, hoping her responses were appropriate though she no longer had any idea what they were saying. Her eyes were trained on the dance floor, watching Din and the other woman find a spot among a group of their clansmen and women.
Thanking the stars when her companions were pulled away a few moments later, Bo was able to slip into a corner to watch Din with his dance partner.
Bo's (now familiar) irritation at seeing Din being led onto the dance floor by another woman weakened when she watched him dance… or try to, anyway. She gave a soft chuckle as she watched Din basically stumble around his companion for a few steps.
But after a couple of minutes there was a noticeable shift in Din's movements. Bo saw almost the exact moment he went from reluctance to… enjoying himself? It was subtle, perhaps not even noticeable to anyone else, but she saw it.
Bo wondered about the woman who had finally gotten him out onto the dance floor. How well did Din know her? She was from his covert, that much Bo knew. Which also meant she wouldn't have any issues with the helmet rule. It was a part of her life in the same way it was Din's. If anyone could understand his beliefs, it would be another one who had taken the same vows. Perhaps the "future" Din had spoken of earlier was closer than even he thought.
Perhaps it was right in front of him.
Bo's eyebrows went up sharply when she noticed that Din had some rhythm. The dance was tribal, with lots of intricate footwork, led by the steady beat of the drums. And much to her surprise, Din had no trouble keeping up with it. In fact, once he warmed up, he excelled at it.
It made sense, after all – warriors who trained in hand-to-hand combat often relied on repetitive movements to develop the muscle memory they needed. The movements of fighting were fluid and almost dance-like in their own way. Then again, she couldn't help but notice how Din's motions seemed different, even as he followed along with the others.
As she continued to watch, Bo saw that the dance was more of a group activity than one meant for couples. Though Din had been brought to the floor by the other woman, all of his clan were dancing together. A few of them had even dragged some of her Nite Owls into the fray, which made Bo smile. Within moments there were several groups, a mix of Children of the Watch and her own people in each one.
"Lady Kryze!" Bo looked up, finding Axe breaking himself away from several people in the middle of a dancing circle of bodies. "Come on, join us!" He was waving her over as he walked closer.
With a final look at Din and his group, Bo shrugged and followed Axe. Perhaps it would do her good to get out and enjoy herself.
Soon Bo was laughing as she tried to learn the steps, even as she kept tripping over her own feet. She didn't feel bad though, not when she noticed Axe and most of the other Nite Owls having the same trouble. The dance was much harder than it looked, and she felt a moment of admiration for Din and the rest of his clan.
Bo was spinning and laughing when she crashed into another body. She turned to apologize, only to find herself next to Din. With only a moment's hesitation, he pulled her in to dance with him. She tried not to think too much of the invitation. With so many others around, and with the group atmosphere, it wasn't at all romantic.
Was it?
Bo wasn't sure which answer she was hoping for if she were to ask that question, so she pushed it out of her mind and went back to enjoying herself. How long the music went on, Bo wasn't sure, she only knew that she was getting tired when, with a final crescendo of cheers and pounding drums, the dance stopped.
Out of the silence, a few notes played on a stringed instrument, followed by the sound of a flute joining in. This music was slower, gentle, and she noticed couples pairing up, dancing close.
Looking around, Bo was surprised to find that the group she'd been dancing with had nearly vanished. She was basically alone in the middle of the floor. Well, not precisely alone. She turned and found herself face to face (or face to helmet, in this case) with Din. They were both still breathing heavily and stood regarding each other in silence for several long seconds.
Just as Bo wondered if Din was going to ask her to take a turn on the floor to the slower music, she heard her name being called. The sound snapped them both out of the haze they'd been in, and with a quick nod and smile at Din, Bo went to where she was being waved over by several more delegates.
After she had walked away, Din got himself something to drink in the partitions, guzzling down his chosen beverage quickly to assuage his thirst before stepping out of the curtain again. He sat down at a table, happy to return to observing the rest of the festivities.
Chellara had gone back to the woman Din suspected had his friend's heart. A suspicion that was confirmed when he saw them walk off together hand in hand. He smiled under his helmet. His people were the happiest they had been since the Purge, and he was glad to see it.
As the evening wore on, he noticed more people leaving the celebration area. Some headed to the Foundling Hall to pick up their children to take home. Others walked off in pairs, holding hands or with arms around each other. It seemed weddings brought out romantic feelings and Din observed a few couples making good use of the dark corners to talk quietly or, in some cases, even still a kiss or two.
Din was feeling tired, but something kept him where he was, an instinct that was nagging at him. He hadn't figured out what it was trying to tell him and until he did, he wasn't going anywhere. He doubted there was any danger, but that didn't mean he would ignore it.
His roving eyes settled on Bo, and he squinted under his helmet. Ever since the overheating incident and the night she'd arrived at his house on the speeder bike, Din had felt the need to keep a closer eye on her. When they'd done the mission together not long ago, he'd made certain that she'd been eating and drinking. Which she had been, without his intervention, but still he'd watched just to be sure.
Din observed the Mand'alor surreptitiously, his eyes locked on her even as the angle of his helmet suggested he was still watching the musicians on stage. He saw Bo moving from table to table, speaking to various guests, but something wasn't adding up. To the untrained eye, one might assume Bo was acting in a way that suggested she'd had a lot to drink. Her gait was slowed, her eyes were glazed, and she laughed freely. But Din knew she hadn't imbibed that much.
Uh oh.
Din began running through memories from the last week or so, as the celebration plans had gone into high gear. They'd spoken at all hours of the day or night, as Din's schedule had been well off from Mandalore's because of his travels. Yet Bo had always been awake, always in the midst of planning this first big event.
In the past week, had she slept enough? Eaten enough?
He doubted it. While she didn't look as bad as she had during either incident at his home, he wasn't going to take any chances. Din left his position at the table, appearing at Bo's side moments later.
"Lady Kryze, may I speak with you?" Din was the picture of decorum, gently pulling Bo away while the group she'd been speaking with simply nodded and continued their conversation.
Bo looked up at him with a wide grin. "Well, hello, Lord Djarin. Where is your little green friend?"
"With the other younglings." He knew Bo was already aware of that, which was another warning sign that something was up.
"Good. That's good. He should play sometimes." She nodded, the motion enough to make her sway a little.
Din put a steady gloved hand on her arm.
"Bo?"
She was looking across the room. Din squeezed her elbow to get her attention.
"Bo."
She regarded him with eyebrows raised.
"When was the last time you ate anything?"
She shrugged, but he almost missed it with the continued swaying of her body.
"And when was the last time you slept?"
"I'm not sure. What day is it again?" She was mostly kidding but Din saw enough truth there to want to pull her aside.
"That's what I figured. Come on, let's get you something to eat."
He escorted her to a table and after getting her to sit down, went to the food tables. They'd been mostly picked clean, but he found some bread and fruit which he brought back, along with a beskar goblet filled with water.
"Here, eat, drink."
"Is that an order?" She quipped with a smile before taking a long drink of water and plopping a piece of fruit into her mouth.
"No, just a request from a friend."
"Well, thank you… friend. This is good."
Din nodded.
After Bo finished the little bit of food Din had given her, they sat together and listened to the music. A few people still danced, but the celebration was winding down. Bo grew tired, the many days of planning taking their toll. She was having a hard time staying awake, but she didn't want to leave. She felt duty-bound as Mand'alor to stay as long as her people did. But soon she found herself leaning into Din, resting her shoulder against his. Din kept watching the musicians and she didn't think he'd noticed.
Except that he did.
Din perceived the weight of Bo's shoulder getting heavier as exhaustion pulled at her. He didn't mind her leaning on him, it felt.. right somehow. But he also didn't think people should see their leader practically falling asleep at the celebration.
"Bo?"
She looked at him sleepily.
"Come on, let's get you back to your quarters."
She didn't fight him, allowing herself to be guided to her feet. Once standing, she made an effort to stand up straighter, forcing her eyes open wider. She didn't want anyone to assume she'd had too much of the wine. With her head held high, she took Din's offered arm, nodding to people as they left the reception area. A few of the guests addressed Din as "Lord Djarin" as they passed, and she noticed he only stiffened a little at the title.
On the way towards the living quarters, Din stepped into the Foundling Hall.
"My lady, beroya," the Guardian on duty bowed his head as they passed by.
The foundlings were already in their bunks and those few children whose parents were still at the celebration were piled together in front of the large communal hearth. Rugs had been laid out with warm furs and Din knew that was where they had gathered for the storytelling portion of the evening. It was something he and Med had done as boys, and it made him smile to see Grogu taking part in something that had been a part of his own childhood.
Bo waited to the side while Din stepped quietly among the sleeping children. He found his son and scooped him up before returning to take Bo's arm again. Grogu grumbled a little at being moved but relaxed almost immediately into the familiar beskar cuirass.
Leaning on Din's other arm, Bo smiled to see the trust and love in the little one's movements. She understood the feeling. Right then she too also felt as if nothing would happen to her while she was on Din's arm.
They were heading toward the underground living quarters when Bo's stomach gave a loud gurgle. She put her hand over it as if to quiet the noise, but Din paused, looking down at her. She could hear his frown when he spoke.
"Did you get enough to eat?"
"I'm fine."
"That didn't answer my question. Are you still hungry?"
"I guess I could eat more but that doesn't mean you have to…"
But Din was already leading her to the main kitchen area. He knew the staff would be off now, but he was certain he would find something to feed her.
Bo didn't protest, knowing he wasn't going to take no for an answer.
When they arrived in the kitchen Din walked her over to one of the small tables set aside for preparing food. There were a few chairs so that the kitchen staff could rest while food cooked, and he pulled one out for Bo to sit.
"Sit. Here, take him."
Din handed over Grogu. Even in her sleepy state, Bo was surprised when the little one didn't protest the change beyond a grumpy squeak quickly followed by a happy sigh as he snuggled into her arms.
Din caught her look. "What?"
"Nothing… I guess I expected him to get upset to be taken away from you."
"Normally he would have," Din agreed as he moved about the kitchen, looking into a pot on the stove. "But he loves you. You know that. He said it himself, remember?"
"Yeah…," she looked down at the sleeping child in wonder.
Din found stew in the pot, which was still warm. He served a small amount in a wooden cup, mostly broth but with a few chunks of tender meat and vegetables.
"Trade you."
He handed her the bowl and took the sleeping child, tucking Grogu back into his warm cloak. Once again, the little one fussed then immediately quieted against the armor, in the crook of Din's left arm.
Bo took a sip of the warm stew and decided it tasted better than anything she'd ever had in her life.
"Yep, I was definitely still hungry."
She continued to sip slowly, watching Din as his gaze stayed on his son. Her eyes fell to the boy just as Din's moved up to find her looking at Grogu. She was smiling at Grogu's sleeping form, and he watched her watching the boy. He couldn't help the smile under his helmet. To see someone look at his son with the same amount of love that he felt, it did… something to his heart. Though he would be hard pressed to put a name to it.
Everyone loved Grogu, how could you not? The kid was ridiculously adorable, even he, the hardened beroya, had to admit that. But Bo's look was more than just the typical "He's so cute!" response Din usually saw. There was also a respect for who the child was.
As she ate the simple meal, Bo carefully studied Din, who had turned to put the lid back on the pot, still holding Grogu steady with his other arm.
"You're not as drunk as I thought," she said suddenly.
She heard a huff of amusement from the modulator before he turned back to regard her, leaning against the taller wooden table set up for food prep.
"Is that so?"
He was smiling under the helmet; she could hear it.
"But you were… dancing. I just thought you were really really drunk."
"Never said I couldn't dance," Din declared with a one-shoulder shrug, keeping his other arm still so as not to disturb his sleeping son.
"You… dance," she said it wonderingly.
"You keep saying it, but it doesn't make it less true. Yes, I do. Not very often, but I do."
She remembered something else she had noticed when watching Din earlier. "I saw your moves; they weren't quite the same as the ones from your clan. Where did Din Djarin, fierce Mandalorian bounty hunter, learn to dance?"
"My family," he said simply.
"But your clan…oh."
It had taken a minute for her sleepy mind to catch up. He wasn't talking about his covert; he was talking about his blood family.
"My people, we used to dance a lot," Din continued, covering up the awkward silence. "Celebrations, ceremonies, it happened all the time. I can remember being picked up in my father's arms when I was probably not much bigger than him."
Din looked at the little one cradled in his own arms. "My parents used to dance me around with them when I was young and then, when I was older, I joined in as well."
He kept talking, unsure why. Just as he had earlier that evening, Din felt compelled to open up to her, rather than being his usual quiet self.
"It wasn't something that I did for a very long time after they died. I didn't feel like there was any reason to celebrate. Not for a long while. And even then, I was with people who didn't have the same traditions. Not that we didn't have celebrations in the covert, but they were just different than what I had experienced as a child."
"Then what changed? What made you start dancing again? Your way?"
Din hadn't expected that question. The truth was, he hadn't really thought about it. He hadn't figured out an exact time the dancing returned to him. It just seemed like one day he felt comfortable enough to do it when he was alone. Something had brought up the old memories, and he had found himself shuffling around his ship.
What was it? Din wondered to himself.
Vague memories stirred and the answer came to him in a flash.
"Grogu," Din said quietly, making the boy look up sleepily at the sound of his name.
"Grogu?" Bo questioned, causing the little one to look over at her in turn.
"It didn't happen again until some time after I rescued him. By then, he was starting to feel like mine, though it was still long before I allowed myself to fully accept it."
Din's voice grew soft with the memory.
"He was tired but wouldn't sleep, and I was exhausted after some job went sideways. We were both barely in our right minds. I think I just started rocking him, then …somehow… it became steps from an old dance. I didn't even realize I did it at first. But it worked, he went to sleep, and I was able to put him down and sleep myself. I forgot all about it."
After his story, they both were quiet for a bit, lapsing into one of the comfortable silences they'd become accustomed to in each other's presence. Bo finished the stew, and Din took her plate to the sink.
"Come on, I think it's time for all of us to turn in." Din took Bo's arm again, as if unwilling to let her walk on her own. He escorted her back to her quarters with the grace of a true gentleman – very much like a noble knight from the tales her mother had read to her as a child. She had never believed such stories could be real, and few would see the fierce-looking bounty hunter in that light, but she knew better. She'd known it ever since he'd vowed to serve her on the bow of that langskib.
At some point in her life, Bo would have protested the help Din offered her that night. She would have scoffed and shoved away anyone who dared to say she needed to stop, rest and eat. She would have pushed away anyone who tried to guide her by the arm to ensure she returned home safely. She would have rather passed out than lean against another's shoulder for support.
Bo had always been the princess, the warrior, the leader. All her life it seemed, others had depended on her – an entire race of people, a whole planet now. She had stood tall on her own, rarely accepting help and never showing she needed it. But now she realized she didn't mind it so much when Din helped her.
Was it wrong to want to feel protected? To be supported by someone who was physically bigger, stronger? Somehow, she didn't think so. In fact, she felt that allowing herself to accept help was exactly what she needed to become even stronger.
As they continued through the caves, Bo couldn't help but wonder, who held up Din? Who gave him strength when he needed it?
Din supported everyone around him. He did everything for his son. He was also working the occasional bounty hunter job for Mandalore – still refusing to be paid. of course – so that he could contribute to his people, as he put it. Bo had even heard that Din had been helping the Trainers whenever he was there, offering advice based on his many years of experience in the field.
He was proud, but he carried it with grace, never letting it turn into arrogance. When he needed help, he accepted it, like the time he allowed her to care for him during his near-fatal bout with nano-droid poisoning. From that moment on, Bo found herself feeling a bit more protective of him – a man who, to the outside world, seemed invulnerable.
Med might tend to Din's wounds, but who looked after the man himself?
In that moment, Bo made a decision: if Din allowed it, she would be there to support him whenever he needed her.
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Hi folks!
I hope you enjoyed the latest chapter. The idea to have Din dance is one I've had for a very long time, pretty much ever since I saw Pedro dance the first time. How could I resist having both Din and Med dance when I've seen how well Pedro and Oscar dance?
I had a lot of song inspiration for this chapter, specifically for Cara and Med so I thought I'd share them, in case anyone was interested in checking them out.
The first song is called "With You" by Harrison Storm
The chorus in particular really spoke to me for their relationship: "With you, the world feels more alive"
I feel like Cara and Med are more likely than Bo and Din to shove down their pain and pretend everything is fine. So, when I heard the line "with you, the world feels more alive" I wasn't picturing Cara or Med being in a place of depression or sadness. Instead, I saw them being happy, making jokes and smiling. But then they will realize that most of those smiles and jokes were empty. That they didn't feel truly alive until they found each other.
The second song is "Give Me a Reason" by Pink. I hadn't heard it in a while, and it popped up in a playlist a few weeks ago. The lyrics may not match exactly what's happening with Cara and Med, but the overall theme I thought fit them very well, especially in this chapter. The song makes me feel the confusion from a man who doesn't know why his girl is suddenly upset. Even though it's about two people who are already in love and in a relationship, I still felt like it worked because Cara and Med just had this beautiful "night" together (when they talked over the comm before falling asleep) and are becoming very close. So, I think the blow-up at the wedding will kind of break both of their hearts a bit.
Just a few days ago, another song came to mind for them, which is "Leave" by Matchbox 20. As always, it's not a perfect fit, but the theme is very close. I could really picture Med singing this to Cara after their fight at the wedding. He's confused and maybe just a tiny bit angry… but mostly he's just hurt.
Looks like there's just going to be one more chapter in this one and then I'll be starting on the next story. I'll talk more about that after the next chapter, but I just wanted to say that things are really going to start ramping up in that one.