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It was cold. Freezing.
They had taken away his armor, had left him in the cloth underclothes. They did very little to keep in heat and warmth, not like the beskar he wore. But still, Din was used to the cold--had grown too used to it.
That did not stop him from biting back shivers and watching his breath freeze in the air. That did not stop him from curling in on himself as tightly as he could, from holding Grogu as close to his chest as was physically possible. It did not stop him from feeling cold, from the child from feeling cold, and Din hated every second of it.
He had let his guard down for a moment, just to check on Grogu, just to make sure he was alright. But it had been a moment just long enough to land a blow to the back of Din’s head, to knock him out, to drag him away--here, where it was cold and dark and small.
Din didn’t know where here was. Well, he knew he was on Tatooine, just not the specifics.
He had made a split second decision to go back.
He didn’t really know why.
Din knew he wanted to see Cobb Vanth again. Maybe to tell him the armor found its way back to its owner. Maybe to let him see Grogu again, tell him that the kid had a name. Maybe to see if they were still at peace with the Tuskens. Or maybe Din just wanted to see the man’s face again.
Din didn’t know. Didn’t want to really think about it.
Cara had come with him. Hopefully she had found Cobb.
Grogu let out a soft coo, little hands reaching out for Din. He ducked his head down so Grogu could more easily reach him, pulling his legs closer to his chest in an effort to bring the child just a little more warmth.
“I know,” Din said quietly. “I’m sorry.”
His eyes had adjusted enough to the darkness that he could see Grogu peer up at him, eyes wide and ears drooped low. Din wanted so badly to get them out of here, but whoever had taken them had taken his armor, his weapons--everything. He hated feeling helpless, being helpless, but there was nothing Din could do except sit and wait and try and keep Grogu warm.
The child shivered, and Din felt something heavy catch in his throat.
He wished he knew how long they had been here.
“It’s okay--I got you,” Din brought up a hand to cup the back of Grogu’s head, holding him steady. He ducked his head down, ghosted his lips over the top of Grogu’s head, kept the child as covered as he could.
Then Din took in a shaky breath, and started to sing.
“Hush little baby don’t say a word,” it sounded more like he was speaking rather than singing, and his voice shook with every word. Din wasn’t used to this--to forming a melody with his voice. “Papa’s gonna buy you a mockingbird.”
Grogu clung tighter to him, and Din paused for a moment to clear his throat.
“And if that mocking bird will not sing—“ still, his voice cracked in the cold. “—papa’s gonna buy you a diamond ring.”
He had not heard this song in a long time, let alone sung it.
“And if that ring turns to brass, papa’s gonna buy you a looking glass,” At least Din sounded like he was singing now. His voice was still soft, still quiet, but it had gained a strength and clarity it did not have before. “And if that looking glass will not shine, papa’s gonna sing you a lullaby.”
Din couldn’t remember the lines that came after. He didn’t remember if he had even sung the right lines. It had been too long since he let himself think about the lullaby, and much longer since he heard it.
His mother used to sing it to him, back before everything.
Din continued humming the melody, gently rocking Grogu in his arms, his voice echoing softly off the walls.
The child cooed softly, reaching up a hand to place on Din’s cheek.
“So close your sleepy eyes,” now Din really was making up lines. But he kept singing, looking at Grogu with a steady warmth rising in his chest. “Papa’s gonna sing the dark goodbye.”
Suddenly Din tensed.
Grogu looked up at him in confusion, babbling quietly.
They both jerked back at the sudden shouts, but they quieted down almost as soon as they started. Din thought for only a moment before he stood, pushing his back against the wall and holding Grogu tightly to his chest. Grogu put his hands on Din’s shoulders, hiding his head in the crook of Din’s neck.
There was more shouting, a blast of phaser fire, and then the door was being jerked open.
He had grown so used to the dark that it took a moment for Din to adjust to the sudden rush of light. When he did Cara was standing in the open doorway, already looking away and holding out his helmet.
“You two alright?” she asked.
Din stared blankly at her for a moment. The room was much smaller than what he had thought. There was hardly enough room to walk more than five steps.
“We’re fine.” Din reached forward and took the helmet, adjusting Grogu so he could slip it back on. Grogu cooed softly. He wiggled around, reaching both hands up this time. He placed them on both sides of Din’s face, peering up with wide eyes. He cooed again, patting the helmet.
Din’s chest did something funny.
“You sure you’re alright?”
Din looked back at Cara. Her head was tilted and her brows were furrowed.
“Yeah. I’m sure.” Din swallowed, then looked back at the child. “What happened?”
“Pirates jumped you--they wanted to sell your armor for some quick cash.” Cara recovered quickly, immediately jumping into her brisk, no nonsense tone. “Vanth is working on tracking down the rest of your armor. The helmet was all they had left.”
Din nodded. His throat felt tight and his heart wouldn’t stop pounding. “Thank you.”
Cara smiled.
“Comeon,” she said softly. “Let’s get you two warmed up.”
She reached into the little room, trailing her fingers over Grogu’s ear before settling her hand on Din’s shoulder. She gave it a gentle squeeze, and didn’t let go.