The rest of the flight back to Tatooine was silent and tense.
Din paced back and forth in the tiny cockpit while Boba and Grogu both pretended not to watch his every move. Boba frowned over the console, checking over the coordinates for the tenth time, while the kid watched Din with wide, anxious eyes, levitating his little ball in the air.
Anxiety twisting in his gut, Din swallowed thickly, frantic thoughts rattling inside his does the tribe want?
He had - he had accepted exile, accepted that he would never again be one of them. The tribe had rejected him, declared him an apostate, and he had left.
A tendril of hope, hot and desperate, twisted in Din's they want me back. Maybe the armorer was willing to talk, to recognize him as still a son of the tribe, as a Mandalorian still.
Stop told himself 't get your hopes up.
He was suddenly glad he had put the helmet back on after Boba's announcement. Closing his eyes, Din swallowed hard, inhaling sharply, his hands clenched in fists.
"Din?" Boba was standing in front of him, having moved from his seat at the console. He frowned, concern deepening the lines of his forehead. "Are you all right?"
"Yeah." He shook out his hands, nodding. "I'm fine."
Boba watched him for a long moment, his forehead creased with concern. "Din - "
"I'm fine." Din insisted. He reached for Grogu, scooping the kid into his arms. The kid made a concerned noise, reaching up to tap Din's helmet with his little claws.
"Daa." Grogu said, tilting his little head up to bump his forehead against the chin of Din's helmet. Din smiled despite himself, rubbing Grogu's back gently.
"How much longer until we reach Tatooine?" He asked.
"Not much longer, maybe an hour." Boba replied.
Din nodded, turning his attention back to the kid. "Why don't you show me some of those tricks you've been learning?" He said, carrying the kid into the main cargo hold.
"Patu." Grogu said solemnly, hopping out of Din's arms onto the floor.
They passed the rest of the flight on the floor of the cargo hold, as Grogu levitated his little ball around the room and demonstrated his Force jumping skills. Din knelt on the floor, watching Grogu, the cold metal digging into his knees.
His limbs felt heavy with exhaustion, all of the peaceful contentment he'd felt earlier 't get your hopes told himself firmly, watching Grogu do a little backflip in the air.
"Din? We're about to land." Boba said behind him, bringing Din out of his morose thoughts.
Din nodded, reaching for Grogu and scooping him up. He settled into the copilot's seat next to Boba, buckling the seatbelt over him and the kid as Boba started their descent into Tatooine's atmosphere.
Grogu cooed softly, patting Din's arm softly, reassuringly, his little claws making a smalldingsound against Din's armor.
"I'm fine, kid." Din reassured him, patting Grogu's back gently as they watched the palace grow larger and larger in the ship's viewport.
They landed with a soft thump in the palace hangar, sand spraying the glass of the viewport. Squinting through the cloud of sand, Din spotted a cluster of familiar ships near the palace doors, the metal glinting in Tatooine's harsh sunlight.
"That your tribe?" Boba asked, shutting down the ship's engines.
Din nodded, bouncing Grogu a little in his arms. "Yeah."
Boba reached for his helmet and put it on, the seal engaging with a quiet hiss."I'm with you,Din'ika." He promised, reaching out and squeezing Din's hand gently before letting go.
"I know." Din said quietly, slinging his bag over one shoulder. He led the way out of the ship and towards the palace doors, Boba close behind. They headed towards the throne room, their footsteps echoing throughout the hall.
Din entered the room, unsurprised to find a group of Mandalorians standing in a huddle near the door, the only sound the soft clanking of beskar as they shifted. Fennec sat sprawled on the throne's armrest, one hand on her blaster, her dark eyes following their every move.
Din nodded in her direction, relieved to have another ally. She raised an eyebrow, but didn't say anything, throwing Boba a casual salute.
The group of Mandalorians parted to let a familiar figure approach Din, his body language stiff and uncomfortable.
"Djarin."
"Hello, Paz." Din said. He swallowed, glad to be wearing his helmet, his expression locked away behind beskar. Grogu snarled, his little claws curled tightly around Din's thumb.
"What are you doing here?" Boba asked brusquely, taking a step in front of Din to shield him with the bulk of his body. Din felt a rush of both annoyance and affection at Boba's display of protectiveness, rolling his eyes a little behind his helmet.
I can handle and Paz had been at each other's throats since they were teenagers. They had sent each other to the medbay more than once after a spar, bruised and bloody, but Din had always held his own. Paz had the advantage of sheer size, but Din was faster, making them relatively evenly 's not him I'm worried about.
The armorer was noticeably absent from the group, as were many of the older members of the tribe.
Vik isn't here thought, . That's the last thing anybody needs.
Paz's son, Ragnar, stood next to several apprentices, his chest puffed out as he rocked a little on the balls of his feet, clearly trying to appear older than his twelve years. Din couldn't help but smile at the sight, picturing the boy's endearingly determined face behind his helmet.
His gaze roamed over the small cluster of warriors who stood near Paz. It was mostly young adults and teenage apprentices, but several of his agemates were there too, and even one of the elders. Saira was missing, as were Oskar and Wira, but Bez was there, her dark blue armor shimmering in the palace's low lighting. Tula and Alin were there, helmets tilted deferentially towards Paz, who had apparently taken on the role of spokesperson for the group.
Din blinked away hot tears, swallowing past the lump in his throat. It was sogoodto see them here.
My people.
Boba made an impatient noise, resting a hand on his holstered blaster. "State your business, Mandalorian." He growled.
"Boba -" Din started, only to be interrupted by Paz.
"We've come to speak to Djarin." Paz said, clearing his throat awkwardly. He never had been one for speeches, and had struggled with a fear of public speaking since they were children.
"Speak, then." Boba said roughly. Rolling his eyes, Din elbowed him in the rib underneath the edge of his beskar. Boba grunted, the breath rushing out of him, but he acquiesced reluctantly, stepping back to let Din approach the group.
"What have you come to tell me?" Din asked.
"We - that is, we think -" Paz stumbled over his words.
Boba made an impatient noise next to Din, drumming his fingers on his blaster.
"We were wrong." Bez interrupted smoothly, taking charge. "We may not agree with your choices, Din Djarin, but that should not mean exile."
Din's inhaled sharply, his heart hammering in his throat. "What do you mean?" He asked, trying to keep his voice steady.
"You have been decreed an apostate. And - maybe you are. You broke the Creed." Bez continued, ignoring Boba's indignant snort. "But - you're our brother."
Relief washed over Din, his legs wobbly beneath him.
"You're our brother." Bez repeated. "But you're not - you cannot be - Mandalorian."
Din stiffened. Next to him, Boba puffed up indignantly, crossing his arms over his chest. "And who areyouto make that judgement?"
"This is the way." Bez said, ignoring Boba. "You broke the Creed, Djarin. But - you should not have been exiled."
"You say I am not Mandalorian." Din said hoarsely. "But there are many ways to be Mandalorian, many Creeds."
"No." Bez said, her voice steely. "There is only one way. There is only one Creed. We are offering a gesture of goodwill. You can come back, if you want, live among us as an honored guest. That isn't an opportunity given to many. Don't waste it."
Din swallowed, a lump lodging itself firmly in his this is how it and the others, members of the tribe he had grown up with, people he had cooked and fought with, the clan he hadloved, would accept him only as aguest. As a former brother they loved and tolerated but could not accept as one of them, not anymore.
"And if I choose to follow a new way?" He asked.
Paz froze, clearly shocked. Whispering broke out among the others, the sound bouncing off the stone floor.
"How -"
" - can't be done -"
"Who does he think he is?"
"- Never -"
"- is theway-"
Bez cleared her throat, taking over as spokesperson once again, and the muttering fell away. "That is impossible." She said coolly. "You know the rules, Din Djarin. You have broken the Creed. That cannot be undone - you know this. You are no longer Mandalorian. Do not insult us with further blasphemy."
Several of the others made noises of agreement.
Din inclined his head, doing his best to keep a neutral expression behind his helmet, swallowing past the lump in his throat.
"In that case, thank you for your offer, but I can't accept." He said, lifting his chin defiantly. "You may not think me Mandalorian anymore, but that is not your decision to make. It is mine."
Paz growled wordlessly under his breath, shouldering past the warriors on either side of him. "You insult our honor, Din Djarin."
"Do I?" Din wondered this time, I've been missing the tribe, wishing I could go back to the way things were.
But if this was the tribe's way of welcoming him back, accepting him as an outsider and former brother but never as he 'll never welcome me back realized. The realizationhurt, but a cold clarity settled over him, an odd sort of peace.
I can only move forward, not back.
"I can't come back, Paz." Din said. "I can never be one of you, not anymore. I must make my own way."
"You would throw our offer away?" Paz asked angrily, hurt dancing under the surface of his words. "It is more than you deserve,apostate."
"I'm sorry, Paz." Din said gently, reaching out to Paz before thinking better of it and lowering his hand.
"I don't need your apologies." Paz snapped, taking a menacing step towards Din.
Grogu hissed, his ears flat, and Boba shifted closer to Din, knocking his boot into Din's.
"Watch yourself, Vizsla." Boba rumbled, positioning himself in front of Din protectively.
"Stay out of this, Fett." Paz said disdainfully. "You have no part in this."
"This ismykarking palace." Boba took a step closer, one hand on his blaster, as if to square off against Paz in the sparring ring.
"Palace." Paz scoffed, resting a hand on the plasma cannon slung across his chest. "I have seen more impressive Jawa sandcrawlers."
"Enough." Din interjected, his voice echoing throughout the room. "I amdone."
"Djarin -" Bez began, bodily shoving Paz out of the way behind her.
"No." Din interrupted. "I am done debating this. You may think of me as an apostate, an outsider. That is your right. I can choose to call myself Mandalorian. That ismyright. I will spill no more blood over this."
"You cannot be Mandalorian!" Ragnar cried.
Din looked at him sadly. He reached up and removed his helmet in one smooth motion, tucking it underneath his arm. Ragnar flinched, pressing close to Paz. The others did not visibly react, although Bez stiffened a little, clearly shocked to see his face.
"I'm done." Din repeated.
"You would insult us further?" Paz demanded angrily, clearly incensed to see Din breaking the Creed so casually.
Din shrugged. "It's not meant as an insult."
"You -" Paz broke off to swear under his breath in Huttese, the words sharp and guttural. "You throw our offer away, you speak blasphemous lies, you break the Creed, and this is not insulting you?"
Din turned to hand Grogu over to Boba, settling the kid in his arms before turning back towards Paz. "No. It is not."
"Din -" Boba said, his voice tight with concern.
"I've given you my answer." Din said firmly. "IamMandalorian, and I will follow a new way. My own way."
"You are an apostate!" Paz shouldered past Bez, his hands clenched into fists.
"No." Din said stubbornly, his own temper flaring.
"Djarin -" Bez began, attempting to drag Paz away from Din, but he broke free of her grasp, his chest heaving with anger.
"You are nobody,apostate." Paz snarled, lunging straight for Din.