Hey @maggiemayhemnj! Tumblr ate the ask part way through writing this! This was a lot of fun to write!
Snow Day: Din Djarin & Grogu
A/N: Set between S1 and S2, as in before they crash on the ice planet. Wobbles back and forth between Din and Grogu's POV. Un-beta'd. Barely edited.
Warnings: Slightest hint of angst, because i can't help myself but 99.99% soft fluffy fluff. Just our clan of two playing in the snow.
Din wakes to the gabble of his charge, blunt claws tapping against the transparisteel windows. “It’s snow,” says Din, “You’ve never seen snow?” Those dark eyes rake over his visor and then flick away, ears and shoulders slump. “Not every world has snow,” says Din, “How about we go take a look?”
Grogu squirms at the feeling of socks and bantha hide booties over his feet. It’s very cold, Adika, and you are so much smaller than me. Grogu can’t always understand the sounds that the Mandalorian makes, but he never doubts what he feels from Din, never doubts Din’s care, and so only wiggles a little bit when Din works his feet into the booties. Grogu descends the ramp as he usually does, claws tapping against Din’s greaves, only this time his claws are blunted by mittens, and for a moment he is afraid and then he sees the wide expanse of shimmering white, ears pricking up, but there is nothing to hear except for his own heart, the soft crumping sound of his own steps, sensation of snow compacting beneath his feet, like walking through wet sand but not. It’s so quiet.
He’s not used to quiet anymore, accustomed to ship sounds, engine noise rattle and burble of much repaired life support and coolant systems. Peers up at Din, (has never seen Din’s face but the name echoed in his head the first time he laid eyes on the tall armored man, a sound like a bell and warmth like sun on his skin, like the smiles and laughs of long gone friends), watches as he holds the scope to his visor and scans. Grogu sees nothing but low dark clouds and distant trees laden with snow. Takes a few steps to feel the strange compression of it under his feet.
“It’s okay, Kiddo, there’s no large life forms in range. You can play. Go on.” The little one looks up at him, puzzled, and Din hunkers in the snow next to him.
“You can draw in it, see?” He extends a gloved finger and draws a flattened oval with two dots for eyes and elongate triangular ears. “That’s you.”
The child squeals and yanks a mitten off with his teeth, draws a flattened oval crossed with a t-shape. “That’s me! That looks just like me, ad’ika!”
“Eek?”
“Ad’ika means little one.” Din shakes his head, “I don’t know your name, so this will have to do for now.”
“Eek! Ih Eek patu!” Grogu leans into the warm weight of Din’s gloved hand ruffling the sparse fuzz on the top of his head.
“Check this out,” says Din, and rakes snow together with his fingers, squeezes it in his palms, opens his hands to reveal an irregular white sphere, tosses the snowball gently and it splats against the rough weave of the child’s robe and for a moment he is afraid but then the child laughs big and bright all crinkled eyes and sharp carnivore teeth, scraping up handfuls of snow and flinging them at Din, glittering arcs falling short. Ad’ika peers down at his empty, claws and frowns.
“Watch me,” he says, “Like this, see?” Din reaches and fills his hands with snow, feels impact against his helmet and half his visor blurred with melting slush, high reedy laughter overdriving his pickups. “You got me! Well done, Ad’ika!”
The ache of the cold in his knees makes him stand, dusting the snow from his armor, while his charge points at the sky and gabbles, bends and scoops him into his arms. “It’s snowing!” Fluffy white flakes drift down in slow, silent spirals. The baby pats his mittened hands together, trying to catch the drifting flakes and opening his hands beads of water on his palms.
“I lived in a city before the Mandalorians found me, on a world called Aq Vetina. We didn’t get much snow, not where we were. We’d get maybe one good snow storm each winter. And everyone would be out in the streets playing in the snow. Children and grown ups alike. Because we knew it wouldn’t stay more than a day or so. Hey! Tilt your head back and open your mouth!”
“Ah?”
“You can catch snowflakes on your tongue!” He remembers the feeling up snow melting on his tongue, landing on his eyelids, dusting his cheeks. Grogu delights in the feeling of snowflakes melting on his upturned face, but his joy is threaded through with grief and longing from Din. I understand, he says in his mind, knowing that his mouth can’t yet shape the sounds in basic, so he grabs Din’s thumb, feels Din’s hand fold around his. “Let’s go inside. I’ll heat up some soup.”
