The first few weeks Din had the little green womp rat on his ship, the little bugger kept waking him up in the middle of the night
Din was a bounty hunter, a Mandalorian, he was no stranger to his ship being raided or having to be a light sleeper in anticipation of sneak attacks during the night.
In was in their blood.
What he wasn't prepared for was the little green monster the size of a porg to be body slamming him in the middle of the night.
Din slept with his blaster, there could've been serious casualties.
After the ninth time his sleep had been disturbed, Din grabbed the creature. "What? Why do you keep doing this, you little womp rat?"
It's ears lowered to the sides of his head, making a keening sound unlike a young foundling in need of attention.
Din observed him quietly, setting him down on his lap. "Don't tell me you're scared of sleeping up there?" he glanced at the overhanging cot, confused.
It was made of durable leather and skins, it had enough space for the little green monster, so why was it so scared?
The green porg whimpered again and his small hands wrapped around Din's shirt, trembling slightly.
He didn't understand its language, but Din did understand its intentions.
It was scared.
With a heavy defeated sigh, Din fell back on his bed, if one could call the slab of collapsible ship wall covered by a blanket a bed, and closed his eyes.
He felt tiny hands grab at him and push a little body upward, until the creature nestled itself into the crook of his arm and chest.
With a gesture Din convinced himself was either instinctual or accidental, his free hand rested protectively over the boy, feeling its body relax under his weight.
Din settled back into a light sleep, mildly aware of the tiny face nuzzling deeper into his chest.
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They really had Din be the kind of dad that lets his kid, who is a tiny toddler, fight someone else's kid twice his size and go "He'll be alright" whenever someone questions it in this episode.
Which is true, Grogu did well, but it's just funny seeing the height difference, and Din not be worried about it since he KNOWS what his son is capable of and is patiently waiting for him to win with the smugest, shit-eating grin underneath his helmet.
My favorite thing is Din being a confident badass and fighting anything in his way but the second he takes his helmet off he's filled with social anxiety and just stands there being cute
Summary: Wholesome dad Din teaches Grogu a few things he can do with snow.
My contribution to the gift exchange in @starwarsfandomfests for @bluedaddysgirl . It was originally intended to be two pics, but I made this and my writer brain couldn't help but think of a story behind it! Still might post the other one later this week. I hope you enjoy!
Christmas had always been a special time of year for Din. Not necessarily for the holiday itself, but the time surrounding it. It held nothing but happiness and warmth in each memory associated with it. As a child, before he was adopted into the covert, it was a big celebration on his home world and especially in his family. Everyone from both sides of the family would come over to his house, be it cousins, great aunts and uncles, or even grandma Elle, who nobody knew how she was related to the family, yet never second guessed her presence with any event or invite.
The weeks before would be spent playing with his friends in the relieving cool air or the normally scolding planet, even playing in the occasional snow that managed to fall every so often. It was never much, just enough to cover the ground in a layer of thin white blanket, but enough for them to still manage to make and nail each other with snowballs, always leaving every kid on high alert for a surprise attack. Their town even held a snowman competition when there was enough every year, one of which he proudly held the title to for years in each age group.
And when it grew too dark, or his fingers and toes became numb with the chilly air that sent his face flush, he would head back home. Back to his mother, who seemed to always have a warm drink or meal just as he trudged through the door. She would give it to him at the table, along with a kiss that warmed him just as much. Almost like magic, and he would accuse her of having secret powers for years.
On particularly cold nights in the very middle of the cold months, they would all curl up near the fire. He would be cradled into his mother’s side while his father slung an arm over the both of them, tucking them both in as he read aloud from one of his many books that lined the shelves. On those nights, he would fall asleep to the baritone of his father’s voice, only stirring as he was carried to bed hours later.
But that was all so long ago it may have been another life entirely. Ever since he had been taken in as a foundling, Christmas had never felt the same, though the older ones did their best for the holiday, knowing how important it was to many foundlings and others from the covert whose families celebrated. On Nevarro, there was never snow and it was always just a tad too warm for comfort, yet the situation of their subterranean living allowed them to have a communal fire lit in the common area, though he could remember for a number of years they had used the forge of the Armorer. It had been quite a sight to see her normally dark and intimidating space transformed into a place all the children and even adults would gather to socialize and laugh. There you could also find a tree covered in dozens of handmade ornaments from the younglings at the school, as well as some donated by others for the season. All around there would be decorations hanging from every level the kids could reach, growing more sparse as the higher places grew out of their reach.
Presents had never been that important to any of them, more than content with the festivities and treats the kitchen managed to produce, but they always made sure each youngling and foundling had something to open on the morning of, with the adults trading in between themselves. Paz was always the most involved with this, making sure everything was checked off and nobody would feel left out. If there were ever any time where there was no one to get anything for a child he would take it on himself, sometimes having a dozen children to get for. He never complained a whisper, pulling from his own personal funds to get arguably the best gifts, though the Alor told him it would be more than fine to pull from the tribe's treasury.
Despite their best efforts to make it feel warm and inviting, he had always felt worse this time of year, still haunted by his family’s ghosts. He would never be able to celebrate with them again. Never hear the booming laugh of his uncles as his father made them all laugh with his wit, nor the voice of his mother calling everyone into the kitchen to eat. Instead, he locked himself away from the others in his room, later taking on every chance to escape the covert when he became a provider for the tribe, which led to his current situation, crouched under the control panel as he sneakily wrapped the stuffed creature in cloth.
The bright colors of the mysterious form had caught his eye in the market earlier and he knew it would make a nice addition to the Grogu’s collection. The Armorer had insisted he bring the child with him on his supply run, and though he felt guilty taking him when the festivities at the covert would be much more enjoyable for him, he didn’t put up much of an argument. The child had become the closest thing he had to a family outside the clan. Though he still had yet to officially claim him, everyone considered the child to be a part of his clan despite his claims he was just watching over him.
Old habits die hard, he assumed, cringing as he looked at the poorly wrapped gift. It was a good thing he would be more interested in the plush inside rather than his poor attempt at wrapping. Speaking of…
“Grogu?” He called out, his voice echoing through the warming ship. They were just preparing to leave the planet, which had the audacity to assault him with biting air and freezing temperatures, yet provide no snow.
He stood, ready to find the trouble maker. It wasn’t like he was expecting an answer, the child still had not spoken a word that made a lick of sense, but normally he would still make some sort of noise to let him know where he was at. Yet the longer he searched, the more panicked he grew.
“Grogu? Grogu!” Looking under every shelf and in every nook and cranny, he still couldn’t find him. Just about ready to go into full out panic mode when a breeze caught his attention, creeping in and exploiting every opening in his clothes.
Whipping around he saw that the ramp was indeed open, cracked just enough for a little gremlin of small size to slip through. Slamming the ramp’s lever, he was greeted with a face full of cold air and the relieving sight of his worry standing just a dozen feet away. The red hat given to him by one of the elders made him stand out against the white surrounding him, ears sticking out from the holes she had meticulously knitted into them.
“You can’t scare me like that.” He scolded, scoping the child into his arms, though he gave no acknowledgement to the sudden change in altitude. He was too fixated on the world around him. It still didn’t stop the Mandalorian from lecturing him.
“It’s dangerous out here. Why would..you..”
Din slowed, finally realizing what had the child’s attention.
All around them was a world of white, covering every inch of ground and clinging to the bark of the trees surrounding them. A storm must have blown in while he was taking a nap, preparing for the long flight back.
He had been to many planets with snow, yet none looked so much like his home planet. Grogu was equally enraptured, reaching out for the large flakes falling from the sky. The delicate object landed on his hand, staying only a moment before melting away. He cooed happily, reaching for another as Din felt his heart melt just as the snowflake had.
Looking around, he spotted a clump of snow surrounded by footprints, realizing with a jolt that he must have been trying to make something, only to be interrupted by Din himself.
“You know,” he set Grogu down, kneeling as he ran his glove through the snow, collecting a handful. “I used to be pretty good at making these.”
Grogu smiled, or at least what he thought was a smile, and began working on his project once again. A few minutes later Din leaned back, watching as the child pushed two stones he had handed him into their creation. It was a mock imitation in the child’s own likeness, though he seemed ecstatic with himself as he waddled a few steps back to look, taking a seat on Din’s ankle.
They sat like that for a moment, appreciating their work as the snow continued to fall around them. He liked this. This feeling he had in his chest. It had been so long since he had last felt like this, he almost forgot what it felt like.
He felt content. Happy even. Was this what it was like back at the covert? Had he been hiding himself away for so long for nothing? Maybe…maybe this year he would see if the Alor would let him stay. He had always heard Paz talking about how he needed more help around this time, so there was still work for him to do a bit closer to them.
The moment ended as he noticed a slight shiver come from Grogu, apparently only now feeling the chill of the snow. Taking him into his arms once again, he started back towards the ship where they could both warm up. His mind drifted back to the present sitting on the high shelf. It was a bit early but there was no reason he couldn’t get him something else, right? Besides, it would help him warm up while Din re-hydrated some stew mix for the both of them.
"Come on." Din softly smiled from under his helmet, bringing his cape around to protect Grogu from the numbing wind that had picked up. "I have something for you.''
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Just imagine: they’re somewhere, maybe Cara’s house. A scene of domestic tranquility. Din spawled out of the couch in full armor, snoring, one leg planted on the floor and the other held up by the arm of the couch. Grogu seated on his stomach going up and down as Din breathes chewing on his robes, wide eyes watching Cara watch t.v. She sighs and reaches for the remote and presses the button to change the channel.
