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Taking the baby everywhere presented a problem of its own. The massiffs were one such aspect of this problem.
The baby’s nervous whimpers at the fire did not go unnoticed and as loving as the beasts could be when given attention, they were still companions of the Tuskens in an unforgiving desert. The baby most certainly looked like the perfect meal. Din kept him shielded from the beasts and distanced from the fire by settling him between his feet. The kid was content there, but after the tension of argument between Vanth and the Tuskens, he’d grown distressed.
“Aah!” he called up, eyes still fixed on the salivating massiff that watched him. Din brought the baby up into his lap. He continued to watch the Tuskens sign, their idea of a plan explained, and the little one snuggled against his armored belly to settle again.
Vanth had finally settled himself, still tense but willing to sit and listen.
When the grouping broke, he and Vanth were offered a tent. Both accepted, weariness beginning to weigh them down, and Din hung his lantern from the center of the roof to provide better light. The baby’s eyes were starting to close, even as he clung to Din’s shoulder, and Din rubbed his back. There were no beds among the Tuskens. Only padded mats on the floor. Din set the kid down so he could remove his jetpack and Vanth loosely copied the movement.
The baby cooed. He had learned to understand that if Din placed him in one spot, he needed to stay, so he sat on the mat and watched Din. Sleepy eyes had become awake again, and from the way he stared at Din, was expecting his usual nightly routine.
A bath. Settling for bed, placed in Din’s shirt. Tucked there with the soft blanket Din had purchased for him. Any deviation from this was usually met with crankiness and pouting, and any attempts of apologetic affection were rebuffed for the next day. “Be good about this,” he murmured, reaching for his cape. It would have to do. “We’re not on the Crest.”
“How’d you two fall in together?”
Vanth was sleeping in the armor, that was clear, as Din would. He had no doubt it was paranoia for the marshal, but that made it less awkward to be the one still armed. Din was careful in getting his cape off over his head without taking his helmet off, then wrapped the baby in it. The baby cooed.
“Found him.”
“Hm.”
“I have to find his people and return him if I can.”
Vanth watched him. “And if you can’t?”
“Then I raise him as my own child. As a Mandalorian.”
They fell into silence. The baby was compliant until Din began to lie down on the cot and he realized that this was supposed to be the nighttime routine. “Aaah!” he cried, beginning to squirm, his ears pinned back and face twisted with dissatisfaction.
“We’re not on the ship,” Din repeated, trying to keep his voice calming. He reached for his shoulder to remove his pauldron so the baby could rest at his shoulder. But the kid pawed at his cuirass as he tried to squirm out of the cape, letting out a howl. The tears were starting.
“I can’t take it off.”
He could. But he did not like the possibility of having to get it back on again quickly, should danger arise. He didn’t anticipate such, but if this camp were attacked and he had to worry over his armor--
The baby’s wails were distracting from his thoughts. He could feel the emotions being pushed on his mind, and he sat frozen in his distraction.
“Give ‘im here.”
Din looked over with a frown. Vanth held his hands out, and after a moment of hesitation, Din unwrapped the child from the cape and handed him over. The baby still wailed, but upon the transfer, he… paused. He stared up at Vanth and the change seemed enough of a distraction to guide him away from his tears. Vanth settled back against the tent’s wall, letting the baby rest in his lap, and brought his knees in. Din watched with hawkish eyes.
The kid continued to sniffle, but at Vanth’s gentle bouncing, seemed to calm. The marshal looked down at him with the same smile that Din had thought of as cocky, but now it seemed kind. The baby made a small whimper, but the distress was fading, receding from Din’s mind. “There ya go,” Vanth murmured. “No worries.”
Din turned his gaze away. He wrapped up his cape and slipped it back on, hands coming to the clasps of his cuirass. “You know kids?”
“Had a niece.”
He didn’t offer more than that, and Din wouldn’t pry. The past tense said enough.
Din clicked the straps open and removed his cuirass, his vest coming with it. He began to work open his clothing at his chest, first his flight suit and then the shirt beneath. He often didn’t notice the temperature of the ship, and his preference made it a bit chilly for the kid; letting the baby snuggle against his bare chest for warmth had become their routine. Tatooine got chilly, too, and they had already done this on the way to Mos Pelgo.
“He’s a cute little one.”
Din nodded. He rose, then, and reached out for the child again. Vanth hesitated, just for a moment, but he gave an ear a gentle rub and then shifted to hand him over. He looked up and stopped just for a moment, eyes dropping to the sliver of Din’s chest that was exposed. But he didn’t speak, holding the kid until Din could get a good cradle.
“Thank you.”
Vanth nodded. Din rested the kid in one arm and gathered his cape in the other, sitting on the mat. He pulled open one side of his layers and eased the kid in against his chest, into the warmth his body produced, and the baby made a content coo. Vanth watched. Din tucked him in gently, then laid on his back. He loosely tied his shirt shut again, leaving enough slack for the kid to squirm out if he wanted.
“Cute.”
Din dragged the cape over himself, something of a replacement of the kid’s comfy blanket, and the kid made a happy coo. He snuggled down against Din’s collarbone, head beneath his chin, and Din rubbed his hand over the little mound that was the baby. “There’s a list of things I never anticipated doing,” he said, voice low. “This is one of them.”
“You look like you know what you’re doin’,” Vanth said.
Din felt something warm in his chest, and it wasn’t from the baby. No one had told him that before. It was more often -- reasonably so -- comments that he didn’t really know what he was doing. To be fair, he had watched over children before, but only for a short time when he was the only one around. This was his first child.
First, when he had never really planned on having any.
“... Thank you.”
They laid in silence. Vanth kept sitting rather than attempting to sleep, surely too on edge from their current situation to relax. Din stroked the child’s back, listening to little breathing even out, nothing but the sounds of the Tuskens and massiffs and crackling fires reaching them. Soon the baby was asleep. Din would have slept without his helmet on but would be content now to have it.
“You’re lookin’ for more Mandalorians.”
Vanth’s voice was soft. Din looked towards him, hand pausing before he continued stroking.
“I need help to find his people,” he said, voice quiet to not disturb the child. “The Mandalorians are the safest way for me to gather information. But it will be difficult for me to find them.”
“You’re a Mando. Shouldn’t you know?”
Din bit the inside of his cheek. He thought of fighting rings and hungry creatures in the dark. “There are many who hunt us,” he said. “Beskar is sacred to us. Our armor and protection. Valuable to others. I heard of you from a Mandalorian hunter. I thought he would help me, but he destroyed coverts.”
“Coverts.”
“Our tribes. A covert is like… a nest. A safe haven. Mine was destroyed by an Imp.”
“I’m sorry.”
“I understand your need to protect your village,” Din said. “My actions to protect this child were what led to my tribe’s destruction. I wish I could have…” he paused. He rested on his hand on his son’s back. “Done more.”
Vanth watched him. “... Is it safe to bring him along?” he asked. “If we’re going near the Krayt…”
“He won’t be near.” He ran his fingers over the kid’s ears. “I’m not letting him out of sight if I can help it. I…”
He couldn’t have the kid away from him. The thought made his heart start to pound, and he swallowed. He thought of being hunkered down in the common house, surrounded by rubble and bodies. He thought of his child, however far away, being chased down. His voice cracking as he shouted into the commlink, getting no response, stomach twisting with the horror of what their true situation was.
His world had threatened to end right there. He could not live with himself if he had lost the child then, whether he was killed or taken by Gideon. He could no longer deny the attachment he felt for the baby.
“I get it,” Vanth said. “It’s your kid.”
Soon, Vanth laid down, though he fussed with his vambraces rather than sleep. Din turned his attention towards the ceiling, eyes falling shut, surrendering to darkness.
He did not get to sleep long.
The baby was crying.
The sound was grating, far too close to his helmet’s receptors, and Din felt disoriented as he was drawn out of sleep. Little claws dug in against his skin, and Din’s limbs felt too heavy to move. He was vaguely aware of a presence beside him, and then the baby was crawling up towards his shoulder. He blinked, shifting.
“C’mere. I got ya.”
Vanth’s voice was soft and soothing. The baby’s weight lifted off Din, and Din tried to blink the sleep from his eyes.
The lantern above shone dim, providing just enough light to see; Din’s HUD shifted to night vision regardless. He turned his head to look and saw Vanth settle again on his own mat with the baby cradled in his arms. “Hey,” he said. His voice had a gentle note to it, and he gently swayed side to side. “Bad dream. It’s alright, bud.”
“Ba -- ba--”
“I know. Promise, your Daddy there is too scary for anythin’ to hurt you.”
The baby reaches up and Vanth brings him up to his shoulder, letting the little one bury his face in the gaps of armor. Din watched. Vanth had a certain adoration to him now, and it almost seemed like he was meant to be comforting a scared child. The baby dug little claws into him. Din could feel the broadcasted feelings of distress ebb away. Vanth pet his back like Din had done.
“You’re safe.” Vanth glanced towards Din, then back to the kid. His voice lowered further to a quiet rumble. “We’ve got ya.”
Din didn’t move, and couldn’t help his smile.
You can trust him.
The baby settled in Vanth’s arms, sniffling. Vanth laid back and let the kid sit on his cuirass, and the baby sat in place, looking down at him. “Don’t gotta be scared of nightmares,” Vanth said, offering his finger to the kid. The baby grabbed it, looking at it with curiosity. He leaned forward to gnaw on it, and Vanth just smiled, careful in curling his finger and twisting it away from the kid’s teeth. “Those nightmares gotta be scared of you. Look at those teeth, huh? Terrifying.”
The baby stared at him. He tilted his head to the side, ears perked.
“I’m quaking.”
Vanth grinned. The baby tilted his head the other way, then leaned forward and reached a hand outwards. He planted it against Vanth’s jaw, then crawled closer. He placed two hands against either side of his chin and Vanth made a face back at him. The kid giggled, then began to babble.
Din wasn’t sure if he was just vocalizing, or if this was the language of his species. He could never quite tell. What came out of the baby’s mouth was a mixture of trills, growls, coos, and broken attempts at emulating human speech. Vanth nodded at him, expression one of focus, as though the baby was communicating an extremely important statement.
“Absolutely,” he said.
The baby started faster and louder, encouraged, and Din chose then to roll over onto his side with a released breath. Vanth and the baby both looked over. The baby babbled a bit more, than crawled off Vanth’s chest, sliding down to his feet. He began to toddle over towards Din.
“Nightmare?” Din murmured. The baby’s face twisted as though reminded of what had awoken him and he began to whimper. Din scooped him up and Vanth sat up to watch.
“Told him he’s got you to protect him,” Vanth said.
Din stared at him before he sat up and rested the child on his thigh. He’d overheard as much, but Vanth’s tone and the look on his face as he told Din was… Din wasn’t prepared for it. It was the soft tone of a friend. Or… maybe more intimate than that. Din turned his gaze down to the child and tried to ignore the warmth he began to feel.
What is this?
“Did he wake you up?”
“No. I was up.”
“We both need to sleep before tomorrow.”
Vanth looked at him. His expression twisted just enough that Din could see his dislike. Din let out a sigh. “I understand how you see the Tuskens,” he said. “I know you won’t warm up to them right away. Maybe not ever. But they want the dragon dead just as much as you do.”
“They’ve taken so much--”
“They do what they have to to survive.”
“Attacking us!”
“Human settlements have taken their land just like the mining collective took your town.”
Vanth stared at him. The marshal’s expression appeared none too pleased with the comparison. The baby looked between them, and Din sighed.
“... People think the same with Mandalorians,” he said. “Our home was destroyed by the Empire. We’re scattered across the galaxy now, and nobody wants us. We’re turned away, harassed, feared. My covert had to live beneath the ground, out of sight, only risking one person on the outside at a time -- and now it’s been destroyed. He and I have… nowhere to go for true safety.”
Vanth’s eyes dropped to the kid.
“I can’t ask you to just warm up to them,” Din said. “You have good reason to be wary. But I understand what it’s like to have so much taken. To be hated by the people who took from you, or the people who watched it all happen. The Empire destroyed us. The New Republic makes no attempt to help us. I can’t even find a real Mandalorian to help me.”
“I…”
“We need them to get rid of the Krayt dragon. What comes after, I don’t know, but it’s too easy to label them savages.” Din ran his thumb over the child’s ear, and the boy was beginning to fall asleep again, dozing off against Din’s abdomen. “They won’t attack you unless you start something.”
Vanth averted his eyes, teeth digging into his lip, and he let out a sigh before running a hand through his hair. He brushed it back and Din’s eyes followed the movement. “You know all that they’re saying.”
Din made a half-smile beneath the helmet. His throat hurt, admittedly, from the effort of speaking Tusken. But the massiffs responded best to the vocals, and knowing both forms at once helped with understanding. He nodded. “They’re not secretly plotting to gut you.”
That earned an amused huff and a grin. “I guess I’ll trust that,” he said. “You need this armor back, after all.”
Din glanced down at the child. “It’s not just the armor,” he said. “I don’t want to leave your village to its destruction, either.”
“A real kind stranger.”
Vanth was smiling. For a moment, Din wished he could return it.
His stomach had a funny feeling to it now.
“What does it take to be a Mandalorian, anyway?”
It was asked like a teasing question, and Din paused to draw in a breath. Yes, his stomach did feel quite fluttery, like he had felt with Omera, and he ran his thumb over the dozing baby’s back. “It’s a lifestyle,” he said. “Anyone can become one.”
“... Really,” Vanth said, teasing dropped. It seemed he’d expected the opposite answer.
“Yes. I was not born a Mandalorian. But I was found and raised as one, and I follow my Creed. That is what makes a Mandalorian.”
Vanth leaned back on his hands and Din could see the gears turning. He smiled. “There’s a way to keep the armor without disrespecting your people, then,” he said.
“It isn’t so easy,” Din said, his voice falling serious. “To live like I do -- you are both hunter and prey. Mandalorians are tracked and killed now. You would fare better with a durasteel mockup than to truly be one of us -- my tribe is dead for no reason other than our identity.”
Vanth fell quiet. “Right,” he said. “... I’m sorry.”
Din lifted the baby again, careful in placing him back into his shirt without much jostling. The baby made a soft coo in his sleep, pressing up against his warm skin. “You could make a good one,” he said, this time the one with a teasing tone. “If you were... serious about it.”
“Oh, could I?” The marshal grinned and Din felt that same flutter. He enjoyed making Vanth smile. “... Listen. I’ll do my best with this.”
“That’s fine,” Din said.
They fell into silence once again. Din laid on his back. The baby squirmed a bit, and his eyes peeked open, but he made a soft whimper and just buried his face in Din’s collarbone again. He squirmed closer to tuck beneath Din’s chin. Din rubbed his back, and soon Vanth was down too.
Outside the tent was quiet. The baby was settled, falling back asleep. Din’s eyes fell shut and he turned his head to the side.
He felt a little more confident about tomorrow.