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Din had never had much experience with babies or small children. He hadn’t had any siblings, and growing up with the Mandalorians had limited his exposure to anyone under the age of ten. He’d seen parents out with their babies in the market occasionally, and once, at a bazaar, a tiny child had toddled over to him and grabbed hold of his leg, laughing up at him in delight, but that was the extent of his experience with babies.
Every now and then, when he was feeling particularly lonely, Din would think about the distant future and envision a spouse and child. He never allowed himself to picture them clearly, and he didn’t even really think they would ever actually exist outside of his head, but it helped him feel less alone.
At other times, however, he swore he would never marry or have children, for one reason or another. Sometimes it was because it was so hard to meet someone as a Mandalorian, at others it was because he felt his life was too dangerous and complicated to even consider bringing a child into it. And every now then, in his darkest moments, he didn’t think he was good enough for anyone, that no one would be able to love him, and that he didn’t deserve it anyway.
Thankfully, those truly dark moments were few and far between, and he rarely even thought about a future spouse or child on an average day. As a matter of fact, he hadn’t thought about possible future children in weeks on the day he’d first picked up Grogu. Children had been the last thing on his mind, even as he’d carried the child back to the Client - which was still something he didn’t like to recall. Even after he’d rescued him from the Client and gone on the run, he hadn’t really thought much about the fact that Grogu was basically a baby, even if he was older than Din.
But at some point between the rescue and cutting up tiny pieces of fruit for Grogu to eat for lunch, Din had begun to realize that he was, in fact, a parent.
At first, he’d scoffed to himself at the thought. He was simply trying to return the child to wherever he belonged, but he knew now that he was going to be heartbroken if that day ever arrived. Something had changed, and he wasn’t even completely sure when the exact moment had happened. It could have been the first time Grogu had fallen asleep in his arms, or the time he’d panicked when he’d lost sight of Grogu at a market, or the time Grogu had first smiled at him.
It could have been one of a thousand different moments, but all he knew for sure was that, surely, what he felt for Grogu was what a parent felt for a child. At least, he knew he would die to keep Grogu safe from harm, and he imagined that’s what any good parent would do.
It was the smaller, less life-and-death moments of parenthood that still baffled Din, however. He hadn’t realized how picky babies could be until he’d traveled to three different planets one night before finding something Grogu would eat. And the fighting-sleep thing made no sense to Din. How could anyone - even a child - give up a chance to sleep ? If he could, he would nap at least twice a day, and yet Grogu would fight it every single time until he finally passed out from exhaustion.
He had known, somewhere in the back of his mind, that children required a lot of attention, but he hadn’t quite grasped the concept of constant attention until he’d caught Grogu in the Razor Crest’s weapons closet, about to pull out a knife that was longer than Grogu was tall. He’d thanked the stars that he’d found him before anything had gone wrong, and vowed that he’d do a better job of watching him in the future.
That was easier said than done, however, as Din learned the hard way. Grogu seemed to disappear in the blink of an eye at times, and he was a master of hide and seek, able to remain completely silent if he so chose, at least until a tiny gurgle of laughter gave him away.
Din had no clue how to keep a baby occupied, and had finally stopped at a market to shop for some toys, something to keep Grogu out of trouble. He settled on some blocks, which Grogu enjoyed sending flying at Din’s helmet at unexpected times; a small stuffed bantha; a ball that they could kick back and forth when Din would land the ship somewhere safe for Grogu to stretch his tiny legs; and a book of colorful pictures of creatures from various planets.
Grogu loved for Din to tell him stories of the different creatures, and he would frequently retrieve the book from wherever Din had last hidden it, waddle over to the pilot’s chair and squeeze Din’s leg to get his attention, waving the book in his tiny arms until Din gave in, picked him up, and began to tell him a story.
At first, Din had been self-conscious about the whole thing. What did he know about telling stories? But he soon realized he knew a lot about the various creatures, and, after a time, felt comfortable enough to weave tales of wonder and excitement for Grogu, his rapt audience. Din had started to enjoy it as much as Grogu, and he’d finally stopped hiding the book.
Sometimes Din considered moving to a completely different galaxy and raising Grogu on his own, but he knew that Grogu deserved to choose what he wanted. After his meeting with Ahsoka, he knew he needed to find a Jedi to train Grogu, and soon. He didn’t like to think about losing Grogu, though, so he’d kept putting it off.
Din sighed as he put the Razor Crest into hyperspace, which would buy him a few hours of free time. A block clinked softly against the back of his helmet, and he laughed under his breath as he stood and watched Grogu playing with his blocks.
“Want me to join you, buddy?”
Grogu squealed and waved his arms in the air, a block grasped in each hand. Din sat on the floor next to him, and Grogu immediately placed both blocks in Din’s hands.
“What are we building?”
Grogu began to babble instructions, moving his hands in what Din assumed was a description of what he wanted.
Din smiled behind his helmet. “How about you start building, and I’ll follow your lead?”
The little one laughed and waved his hands in the air again, then picked up two more blocks. He stacked them on top of each other, then motioned at Din and babbled for a few seconds while Din chuckled.
He stacked his two blocks on top of Grogu’s. “Like that?”
Grogu clapped his hands and picked up another block, sending it floating until it perched precariously on top of the block tower.
“Good job, buddy! You’re getting better at that now.”
Twenty minutes later, Grogu was satisfied, and Din, still unsure what they had actually built with the blocks, grinned behind his helmet. “That looks great, Grogu.”
Grogu babbled happily and Din realized it didn’t matter that he thought they’d only succeeded in stacking the blocks into various towers. It only mattered that Grogu thought they’d built something special. It was the time they’d spent together that mattered. And as far as Din was concerned, they’d built a masterpiece.