Chapter Text
“Buir! Please?” Fives begged, leveling his most devastating set of tooka eyes at Din. The plea was slightly overshadowed by the way Fives was struggling to maintain his hold on the little massiff pup the boys had somehow smuggled into the palace the night before. The kids were all smitten with it, and Din was already regretting allowing them to keep it. As of yet, the feral little thing had broken three vases, knocked over an entire group of businessmen waiting on an audience with Boba, and had chewed a massive hole in Din’s second-favorite cape.
“No,” Din told the boy firmly, waving a finger in his devastated little face. Immediately, he had flashbacks of his own buir doing the exact same thing to him. He winced, the movement thankfully hidden behind his armor, but he vowed to stand firm. That thing would not be joining in on the chaos of the day’s activities. “Your massiff has to stay here. Lock the door, and let’s hope it doesn’t burrow its way out to cause any more trouble.” Fives pouted, hoisting the pup a little closer and burying his face in its scruff. The stupid thing just kept on happily panting, tongue lolling out of its mouth, oblivious to the conversation going on around it. Din sighed, shoulders drooping beneath the onslaught of the adorable scene. “C’mon, ad’ika,” he nearly pleaded. “We’re already running late.”
Hesitantly, Fives slowly lowered the puppy to the floor before he threw his arms up in dismay. “I don’t wanna wear this!” he complained, changing tact. “It’s stiff and hot and I don’t like it, Buir!” Tears started pricking at Fives’ eyes and he ducked his head, swiping at his face. Din couldn’t stop the pit growing in his chest; he knew the boys were uncomfortable with the idea of being around so many new people, especially Mandalorians, but he had been hoping to push off any extreme reactions until later.
Leaning down, Din scooped up his overwhelmed boy and cuddled him close. Fives burrowed into the juncture of his neck and shoulder, clinging. “Oh, my poor ik’aad,” Din cooed sympathetically. “It’s only for a little bit, and then we can come back inside where it’s cool and you can get back in your play clothes. Okay? Can you be my brave little verd’ika? Just for a little bit.”
Fives sniffled, hiding his face away, but he eventually nodded. “Okay, Buir. Still no good, though,” he told him seriously, face twisted up in distaste as he plucked at the stiff fabric of his dress tunic.
“You’ll survive, I promise. Me, on the other hand,” Din grumbled, which sent Fives into a fit of watery giggles. With the mood sufficiently lightened, Din wandered closer to the balcony, overlooking the massive crowd of travelers gathered outside the palace gates. Shining armor, as far as the eye could see, the sky filled with banners and flags emblazoned with family and House crests. Din didn’t recognize one of them and that pit in his chest grew just a little bigger.
What was he doing? Did he really think he could rule over all of this? What did he know of diplomacy or law-making or infrastructure? He was a beroya, for Manda’s sake!
“Gotta go, Buir?” Fives reminded him after a few minutes, patting him on the shoulder to drag him from his thoughts. Din took a deep breath and nodded, steeling himself for the trial of the day.
“Yep,” he said calmly, turning on his heel to head back into their living quarters. “Let’s go get your brothers and then we’ll meet Boba downstairs. I think I saw Bo-Katan down there in the crowd, directing people, so at least she won’t be hounding us right away.” Din found Rex and Cody in the ‘fresher with Grogu. He had borrowed the little one from Jedi training for the festivities, citing ‘cultural education’, even though Skywalker hadn’t asked for a reason, gladly handing the child over with a knowing grin.
Cody tugged on the front of Grogu’s tunic, a scowl on his face, glaring at the fabric just as fiercely as Fives had been. Rex glanced up when he heard them enter, frowning. “No puppy?” he asked, sounding disappointed. Ah, so they had all been in on it. Of course.
Grogu cooed sadly and Cody threw a look up towards Fives, unimpressed. “I told you it was a stupid idea. Ba’yair’ika is too destructive and disruptive.” He rolled his eyes and went back to pinning his little cape onto his own shoulders.
Fives reared back as if he had been slapped. “That’s not his name! That’s a stupid name!”
“Well, the first time I met him, he chewed up my favorite pair of boots. Sounds like a fitting name to me,” he grumbled, before turning to Rex to straighten out the buckles on his boots.
“Can we argue about his name later? Let’s get this over with,” Rex grumbled, kicking Cody’s fussing hands away from him as he turned and led the others from the room. The boys stomped their way down the stairs while Din followed, Fives and Grogu cradled in his arms.
Once they were on the main floor, they ran into Boba almost immediately. He took one look at Din and threw a dark red cape over his shoulders, velvety and fine. Satisfied with the look and with the knowledge that Din was no doubt glaring at him from beneath his helmet, Boba nodded and then led them out towards the main courtyard, where they would do the majority of the meet-and-greets.
Only as he was placing them all in a line together did Boba seem to realize something was wrong. “Why the long faces? I thought you were all excited for the festivities?” Boba immediately turned suspicious, studying his brothers a little more closely. “Did someone say something? Did something happen?”
“No, Boba,” Cody grumbled, keeping his eyes forward as the boys settled into a line next to Din, oldest to youngest. “It’s hot, and we’re in uncomfortable dress clothes, and no one wants to deal with di’kutla aruetiise Mando’ade we don’t know.”
“And Buir said no to Tiing!” Fives complained loudly, shoulders slumped dramatically. He hadn’t been quiet, either, as more than a few unfamiliar helmets turned toward them, heads tilted in interest. Even his brothers were looking at him funny. Fives huffed, ignoring his larger audience, and crossed his arms. “Tiing. Like tiingilar! Puppy really likes that!”
There was a beat of silence, before Boba said, hesitantly, “You really shouldn’t feed a massiff something so spicy.” He traded a glance with Din, who was silently shaking his head. He was not getting in the middle of that argument.
“That’s not his name!” Cody hissed, throwing his arms up, breaking from his stiff posture just long enough to show them the extent of his frustration.
“Well, it’s better than ‘little chew’!” Fives told him derisively.
“What about Aranar?” Rex proposed diplomatically. “Massiffs are supposed to be like, defenders, right? Protectors?”
Cody groaned and Fives launched into a rapid-fire barrage of insults. “Hey!” Rex cut him off, grinning brightly as he talked right over Fives. “Didn’t the Corries use massiffs? I feel like I remember Fox complaining about one named Grizzer, or something.” That started them on a new argument, debating how cool or stupid a name like ‘Grizzer’ was.
Din sighed with the world-weariness of a long-suffering buir.
It was going to be a long day.
Two hours later found them all grouchy and hot. Din was cooking in his beskar, his thermoregulators having difficulty keeping up with the twin suns beating down on him.
Boba had remained by his right side the whole time, helmet hooked to his belt so he could show off his shit-eating grin as the never-ending line of Heads of House in attendance greeted Din and his entourage with varying levels of respect or wariness. Cody, Rex, Fives, and Grogu were to his left, doing their very best to glare down each and every Mando’ade that passed them by.
Things were going fairly well, in his opinion, even if he wished things would move along a little faster. Bo-Katan was directing the flow of traffic a good twenty feet away from them, so she wasn’t stuck breathing down his neck about being more outgoing or friendly.
Eventually, there was a short lull in people-greeting. Boba took his chance and leaned forward, nudging Din playfully. “How are you holding up, oh mighty Mand’alor?”
Din very slowly tipped his head to the side, speaking lowly so the crowd wouldn’t hear him. “I hate everything about this. Shoot me now, and it’d still be too late.” Then he leaned back to his prior spot, repositioned, and awaited the next wave of gladhanders. Honestly, he wasn’t sure how Boba dealt with this every day.
“You’re so dramatic,” Boba grumbled good-naturedly before turning back towards the line full of Heads of House and their heirs and entourages, all the people ambling into the lands that had been set aside specifically for this summit.
Din tried not to hope too hard to see his own covert mingling with the crowd. He was trying, but failing, not to keep one eye on the crowd, looking for spikes on a helmet, or the lugging form of his old friend.
“Lord Djarin,” another Head of House called his attention back to the task at hand, and Din turned, tipping his head slowly towards the woman. He had no clue who she was, but that wasn’t different from anyone else he had met that day, and he was sure he wouldn’t be held in suspense for long. “I am Lady Wren, Head of House Wren. My heir, Sabine.” She waved a hand toward the brightly colored Mandalorian behind her. The younger woman turned to give Din an appreciative up-and-down, before reaching up to remove her helmet. Short, dark purple hair stuck up at odd angles from the helmet as she gave him a cocky, crooked grin.
“Nice to meet you, Mand’alor,” she said, smacking a bracer against her chestplate in salute. “My buir talked me into joining her on this trip, but I hope you understand I won’t be able to stay long. My crew needs me back as soon as possible.”
“Who’s your crew?” Fives asked eagerly, leaning up on his tiptoes as he tried to get a better look at Sabine’s paintjob. Din couldn’t chastise the boy for holding up the line with his curiosity; this conversation was already the most interesting one they had had all day. “Nice paint, by the way. I really like all the colors and designs!”
Sabine’s smile softened as she looked down at Din’s boys, eyes sparkling with mischief. “Thanks. You know, you remind me of my godchild, Jacen. He’s just as excitable! I work with his mom. We flew together during the Rebellion. We had two Jedi in our crew, so we had quite a few interesting missions,” she admitted with a laugh.
Fives looked gobsmacked, and even Cody’s interest seemed piqued. “You had two Jedi! I thought they were all gone?”
“Well,” she said, glancing between her exasperated mother and Fives’ expectant look. “They were in hiding. But we all stopped hiding after a while. Got more done out in the open, y’know?” She looked a little sad, then, shifting away. “Kanan and Ezra. Kanan was Jacen’s dad, but he died before the kiddo was born.”
“Oh, I’m sorry,” Fives said, reaching out to squeeze Sabine’s hand in his own much smaller one. And then Sabine’s buir reached out to her, placing a firm hand on her elbow, tugging her out of the way.
“Sorry for killing the mood,” Sabine said, crooked smile back in place. “We’ll see you around.” She waved and then let her mother guide her away. As they left, they heard the older woman scolding her daughter stiffly, though Sabine seemed unbothered.
“Huh,” Boba said. “We’ll have to track her down later. I sense a good story, there.”
The line moved up then, and Din fell into a trance of greetings and small talk, until he glanced back out at the crowd only to feel his heart clench painfully in his chest. He saw the bright gold and horned-top of his goran’s helmet, her slanted eyes meeting his own. Unconsciously, his shoulders straightened, he stood taller, and he awaited her judgement.
She was silent as her head slowly moved up and down his body, then to the side to study Boba, and then down to study the ade, as well. Grogu cooed at her, recognizing her right away, but the other children hadn’t met her before and took in her scrutiny with barely concealed hostility.
Eventually, though, she reached out a gauntleted hand to brush some sand from the shoulder of his cape, and then clasped him there, giving him a firm squeeze that he automatically sagged beneath. She didn’t say anything, she didn’t need to, but he felt her approval, nonetheless. She dipped her head, banged her arm across her chest in salute, and then moved on.
As she walked away with Paz and a few other members of their covert, Boba knocked their shoulders together once more, face slack in surprise. “That was your goran, right? She didn’t seem exactly… happy.”
“Oh, she never seems happy. She gave me her support, though. If she disapproved, she would have made herself clear.”
The crowd continued to stream past them, introduction after introduction that Din hardly paid attention to, lost in thoughts of his goran and what might come next. Eventually, though, Bo-Katan arrived to whisk him and his family unit off to the meeting grounds.
“Be prepared to accept some challenges for the darksaber,” she warned him. “Do not lose,” she demanded in a low voice, firm and unyielding. He rolled his eyes at her beneath the safety of his helmet. Yes, he knew the significance behind the saber and the title and everything that came with it. He had learned his lesson with Paz. He knew he wanted to keep it, even if he had to pretend to rule, even if he became the figurehead of an entire people he barely knew the history or culture of.
“Do you have your speech ready?” Boba asked him with a smirk.
“Unfortunately,” Din grumbled, reaching down to pat Cody’s head. Cody peeked up at them through his lashes, grinning.
“I helped write it!” he gloated eagerly.
“Good job, Cody,” Boba praised his brother easily, inclining his head regally. “A knowledgeable speechwriter is always a good tool to have in your back pocket.”
Bo-Katan ignored them as she led them toward a raised platform. Din stood, back straight and head held high, his children lined up to his left and Boba standing strong at his right once more.
“Greetings, revered clans and families of Mandalore. Welcome to Tatooine, to this first gathering of the scattered members of our culture and creed in far too many years. Daimyo Fett has offered both shelter and protection to you and yours while you are here. Do not give him cause to regret that.” She glared the convened families down before continuing.
“Now, may I present Din Djarin, Clan Mudhorn, House Mereel.” Din didn’t show his surprise, but he did slowly turn his head towards Boba, who was smiling out at the crowd and very obviously ignoring his incredulous look. House Mereel was Boba’s House, the House of his buir and his ba’buir.
Eventually, though, Boba took pity on him and glanced over, his gaze soft as he tipped his head encouragingly toward Bo-Katan. Din sighed but stepped forward, taking center stage beside his advisor as the crowd gave him cheers and jeers in equal measure. He took a moment to look over the gathered group of Mando’ade, seeing more armor in front of him than he had ever seen in his entire life.
He cleared his throat and began. “Su’cuy gar, Mando’ade,” he started, before pausing, taking just a moment to recalibrate; that hadn’t felt right, and he had to get this right, the first time. He glanced toward his boys before sighing, shaking his head. “You know, I had a whole speech prepared for this moment. My little one here, Cody. He helped me write it.” The grin he wore and the pride he felt for his child was obvious in his tone, even through the vocoder, and more than one chuckle was heard from the crowd. “We wanted to recall our past as a people, in order to forge our path for the future. To work together to build up a strong and prosperous Mandalore. To return to the tenets of our people, our Way.” There was a bit of muttering at that, a few Mandos shifting uncomfortably at his wording. Din hurried to explain. “Wearing our armor, our souls.” He banged his fist against his ka’rta, letting the pure sound of beskar ring out into the crowd. Most of the Mandos followed suit. “Protecting ourselves, and our clans, and our families.” He glanced down at his boys again, smiling when they grinned right back at him. “Embracing our culture, our language, and our values. Raising our children to be strong and resilient Mandalorians. This is the Way!”
Shouts of “Oya!” boomed across the sands, cheers and shouts from the gathered Mandalorians, traditionalists and extremists and pacifists alike, clanging their vambraces against each other and hollering in support, adding to the chaos of the moment.
There was a swell of emotion, of power, of force in the air around Din as he reached down for the saber, lifting it in the air as he ignited it, held aloft above his head. “For Mandalore!” he shouted, and the resulting roar shook the ground. Even his boys were stomping their feet and shouting, caught up in the moment.
“Oya! Oya, Mand’alor!” the crowd chanted. Din felt that force coalesce as a mass in his chest, heavy and warm, something whispering in his ear through the wind. This was something bigger than him and he tried to embrace it wholeheartedly. The saber had never felt so light in his hand.
It took several hours, but eventually the fervor calmed down. The crowds were mingling excitedly, the different enclaves reaching out to trade and speak with others they hadn’t seen or heard from in decades, perhaps. Many, like his own covert, hadn’t seen other Mandalorians in years, while others had never seen another covert at all. Most Mandos had been living in hiding during the Empire’s reign, and had only recently begun to creep out of the shadows. They were used to hiding, though; the thought of being out in the open like this had to be frightening, yet exhilarating. Mandalorians were nothing if not persistent, though.
Bo-Katan was earning her keep as his ‘advisor’, keeping the peace among the clans before any disagreements could turn to true fighting. She had announced that Challenges for the darksaber were to take place the next day, where anyone who thought they might make a better Mand’alor could take on Din for the … honor.
Din had retreated to the bar in Boba’s throne room, the familiar place calming some of his nerves as Mando after Mando approached him to get his opinion on this or that issue. Half his attention was on Rex and Fives wrestling in the sand with a few other children that had joined them from the other enclaves, though, and his conversational partners eventually trailed off at his inattention, turning indulgent eyes on the children, as well.
The room was filled with a feeling of calm and camaraderie. Din marveled at the difference a day could make. He hadn’t felt this connected to his people in a long time.
Boba found him leaning against the bar and took the opportunity to settle beside him, taking a swig of his own drink as he settled on a stool. “Well, that speech of yours sure went over well.” Din tilted his helmet, hoping his words were true. Boba just let out an inelegant snort at his uncertainty. “I wouldn’t be surprised if the whole planet felt that earthquake. They’re sold on you, trust me.”
Just as Din was starting to form a reply, there was a commotion at the door that led deeper into the palace, more specifically to the stairs that went directly up to the family living quarters. Din whipped around immediately, ready for trouble as the door shook ominously. It burst open and Din had his blaster aimed at it in seconds, but was just as quick to shove it back in its holster when he realized it was just Grogu, sitting atop the very exuberant massiff pup that had broken down the door. Cody was a few steps behind them, chasing the puppy with a flustered look on his face.
As the puppy ran past him, Din snatched Grogu from its back, perching him on one hip as he threw his other hand out at the puppy. “Stop!” he barked at it, and the little thing immediately skidded to a stop, falling back on its haunches as it panted up at Din, tongue lolling out of its mouth as it waited for his next command. Cody tumbled after it, throwing a glare at the massiff, probably more miffed that it had listened to Din but not him.
“And what exactly is going on here? I told you all to the keep the puppy upstairs, boys.”
Cody winced, throwing a dirty look at the puppy, though all it did was huff and pant in his face for his trouble. “Sorry, Buir,” he mumbled, shoulders drooping as he studied his feet. “I was helping Grogu get changed into comfier clothes and the massiff snuck out the door. Grogu jumped after him and got on his back, but then I think he was having too much fun to try to actually stop him.”
Din sighed, glancing down at Grogu, who was ignoring him in favor of writhing in his grasp as he made grabby hands at the massiff. Instead, he turned to Cody, who was squirming uncomfortably under the scrutiny, shoulders up around his ears.
“Oh, sweetheart,” Din said softly, kneeling down in front of his boy. “It’s alright. Things happen. I’m not angry. Nothing happened, and everyone’s okay. Come here,” he said, lifting his free arm to usher Cody closer. Cody didn’t waste any time, colliding with him at speed as he buried his face in Din’s neck and slid his fingers beneath his armor, clinging. Din rocked him gently for a few moments before gently knocking their foreheads together.
Cody pulled away, wiping at his teary face as he gave Din a smile. When he turned and realized every eye in the room was on him, though, he froze and turned a panicked look towards Din. Din, for his part, couldn’t care less. His children’s wellbeing came before any sort of image these people expected him to present to them.
Din ruffled Cody’s curls before standing and placing a gentle hand on his shoulder, guiding him over to Rex and Fives, who had frozen on the ground at the start of all the chaos, now watching the others in the room warily. With one final reassuring squeeze to Cody’s shoulder, Din turned to face the watching adults. They were all gathered in small groups, murmuring quietly between themselves, but once they realized his attention had turned to them, they quieted. He gave them all his best stern helmet tilt, something he had learned from his goran, before slipping his hands into his belt in as insolent a pose he could strike.
“Problem?” he asked the room calmly, though inside he was torn between anger at these people that thought they could judge him for how he parented his children, and worry that he might have just ruined a reputation he didn’t even want. Bo-Katan had wanted him to show the Mandalorians a strong, iron-willed leader, someone they could all feel comfortable standing behind. And here he was kneeling on the ground, comforting a crying child. He had a feeling Bo-Katan was going to kill him, once she heard.
Honestly, he couldn’t find it within him to care, though.
“No, Mand’alor,” one of the armored adults said. He didn’t sound angry or disgusted, which was a plus in Din’s book, he supposed. If anything, he sounded amused. “Most of us have little ones, as well,” he continued, waving his hand towards one of the children that had been wrestling with Rex and Fives. “That was well-handled. You show your mandokar, with the way you treat them.”
“They are my children,” he said automatically, suddenly feeling off-center at the way this conversation was veering in a different direction than he had been expecting. He was anticipating an argument, and instead he was being praised for his actions; it left him feeling awkward and slightly defensive. “Children are the future. This is the Way.”
Though he wasn’t expecting anything, not from these outsiders, he heard more than a few echo him with a reverent, “This is the Way.”
A loaded silence followed, until Grogu batted against Din’s chest in a plea to be let down. Din allowed it, watching as he toddled over to Cody, patting his arm until he hesitantly looked up, only to have Grogu throw himself into his arms. Cody grinned and gave him a tight hug in response, rocking him side to side for a moment before letting go. The puppy seemed to have realized he had done something wrong, as well, for he was now sitting next to Cody, calm as could be, watching all the people in the room as attentively as a guard dog. Din thought it would grow up into a fine protector for the boys, if it was already so reactive to their moods and concerned with their safety.
Boba dragged Din from his musing, tugging him back to the bar as conversation started back up. “Good job,” he said brightly, knocking back his drink with one swallow. Din grunted, and Boba rolled his eyes in return, leaning closer as if he were about to tell him a secret.
“Listen,” Boba started, voice low. “Mandalorians, as a rule, adore children. You were calm, and patient, and didn’t blow up on them. That will get you further with them than any fancy speech or Challenge match.” He clapped Din on the shoulder and met his gaze through his visor. “Good job,” he told him seriously.
Din let that thought percolate for a few moments until he heard someone coming up beside him. He tilted his head, finding the Mando that had spoken up earlier moving closer, stopping at his side as he reached up to remove his helmet. Din flinched a little at the movement, still unused to Mandalorians just removing their helmets, whenever they liked, in front of anyone and everyone. He knew, though, that if he were to rule all Mandalorians, he could not force his beliefs on everyone else, just as he didn’t expect them to force their beliefs on him. They all agreed on the important things, and that was what mattered if they were to work together.
“Mand’alor,” he said with a grin and a nod of respect. Din sighed; that was going to get old, fast.
“Din,” he said, stressing his name. “My name is Din Djarin.”
The Mando grinned a little brighter, the skin around his eyes crinkling. “Well met, Din Djarin. I am Brex Corto. I’m from a small covert that made our residence on the outskirts of Corellia. Have to be honest, when we heard there was a new Mand’alor, we couldn’t quite believe it. But, the Empire’s gone now. Why shouldn’t we try to rebuild what we’ve lost?”
Din hummed, unsure what exactly he should say to such a declaration. Honestly, he had never put much thought into the fate of other Mandalorians in the galaxy; he had had his hands full just trying to keep his own covert alive.
The man, Brex Corto, gave him a long assessing look before grinning down into his drink. “Ah, I think you’ll do fine, Mand’alor. Oya!”
Din nodded. “Oya!” he returned, smacking his fist to his chest.
That conversation seemed to have opened the floodgates, allowing others to approach him as they wished with even more questions about his thoughts. Eventually, though, he looked down at his lap to find a very sleepy Fives perched there. Din heard one or two Mandos beside him coo at the sight, and had to agree. His ad was quite adorable.
Checking the time, Din realized it was growing quite late and stood, making his excuses to the gathered Mandos before urging his boys back upstairs. “But there’s supposed to be a big feast tonight, right?” Rex asked, one hand bunched up in Din’s cape and the other rubbing sleep from his eyes.
“I think we should all call it an early night,” Din proposed, sliding their door open and ushering them towards their bed. “You’re all practically asleep on your feet. There will be more feast nights, I promise.”
He went through their nightly ritual with them, helping them change into their sleep clothes and wash their hands and faces, feeding them a quick snack before he held the blankets back for them to crawl into the safety of their bed. Once they were all settled, he pressed his forehead to each of theirs, showing them his love and affection.
“You all did so well today,” he praised, tugging the blanket up and over them. The massiff puppy had followed them upstairs, now settling itself at the foot of their bed. “I love you,” he told them, brushing his gloved hands through their hair, over their heads. They all preened beneath the attention, eventually slowly nodding off to sleep. He traded a knowing look with the puppy, who was watching him with one attentive eye. “Watch over them,” he told it seriously. It just huffed at him, before rolling over and closing its other eye. Eh, worth a shot.
He moved toward the balcony next, watching the firelight from a hundred different tribes blinking in and out of the midnight haze of their sandy surroundings. He heard the loud chatter and cheers as the Mandalorians celebrated late into the night.
He hoped they were doing the right thing, both for himself and his children and his people. He just had to believe that he had been chosen for a reason. That feeling from before, the whisper in his ear and the weight in his chest? It wrapped around him once more, pulsing with rightrightright. Well. It seemed the Manda wasn’t quite done with him, yet.