Hey everyone,
I'm so sorry this is a few days behind but I really hope that it's worth it once you read it :) Thank you to those who favorited and followed on that last chapter, you guys are so awesome for doing that! I also really appreciate those of you who commented on that last chapter because you totally didn't need to do that but it always makes my day :) I want to make sure to say the biggest thank yous to:
- the fantastic JohnGilbertVampirehunter, Not at all! I'm really excited to hear that and I hope you enjoy the fight in this chapter!
- the phenomenal She-Elf23, Thank you so much! I'm kind of hoping to deal with stuff like that too, especially because I feel like a culture like this would definitely lead to trading and manipulation of those combatants. I really hope it works! I do love writing that aspect of Din's character, it so much fun to think about what happens in conversations where one person clearly doesn't want to be there, especially with people who feel entitled to that engagement in whatever way they want. I do love writing the squirming haha I think she probably would be for sure and I hope you enjoy this next chapter! And thank you so much for the kind words for the workload, it turned out okay :)
- the wonderful Guest, Thank you so much! I hope you enjoy this next chapter too :)
- the amazing Indigene Syke, I'm really glad to hear that :) I was hoping for that to be a bit of a twist, but I wanted to look a little bit more into a culture that would be built on something like this. I hope it continues to be interesting! I'm glad you still love them, I so do too! Thank you and I hope you enjoy this chapter too!
- the awesome DinDjarin2005, I'm glad! I hope it continues to be interesting. I really wanted to look a bit more into a culture that would create a gladiatorial set of games and I kind of feel like there would be some kind of manipulation and status that would go along with controlling (or influencing in Din's case) those fighters. I'm glad the benefactors worked and thank you so much!
Alrighty, I think that's it for right now other than to say this was written outside and it was so, so nice to do so; I hope that comes through in the story. Without further ado...
Enjoy!
The huge, bright moon had been hanging in the sky for a few hours when the combatants were finally escorted out of the hall; a mass of exhausted feet marched back to the confinement they had never really left, their reality hanging on every quiet interaction. Din wasn't exempt from the palpable lethargy of his fellows, the last few hours had been a rotating display of people. He learned too quickly that it wasn't as simple as he had hoped and instead of leaving after a deal was made, he was forced to remain. It took him time to notice it, but after a few more citizens had approached him, it became clear this was just another form of entertainment. The people who came after were no less haughty, no less fashionable, but there were no more offers of aid, all they did was ask questions. Most of them were about the Mandalorian creed, but some varied more still: stylish women asked him what it was like to kill, flicking their fingers across their aghast mouths while they waited for an answer and dapper men leaned in close as if they offered some shared experience when they asked him about his "preference" for weaponless combat.
Din kept his answers clipped and that was usually enough to bore or offend his admirers. However, to his surprise, was far more the former than the latter. Most just wandered away when it became obvious his arena persona wasn't an air. It didn't make the experience any less taxing. And that sickening pretense of civilized conversation ended lasted until the band stopped playing. That seemed to be a signal as the citizens gathered their belongings and headed for the exit. Once they were gone, the combatants were herded out into the cold night air.
It was the reverse course of the parade path they had taken before and once Din recognized that, he slowly reached up and activated the night vision filter. He had noticed a hanger before and he wanted to see if he could catch it again. It was nearly halfway back when he noticed it. There were no guards to be seen, but the doors were clearly heavy enough to dissuade theft. He quickly switched the visor to pick up heat signatures, barely catching two inside before he was marched out of sight.
Once they made it back to the main street - the arena in clear view - extra guards moved into the crowd and began shifting prisoners. Sharp orders and prods were all they used as they corralled plodding creatures into determined groups. It was highly efficient and obviously practiced, even if it was impossible to understand how they understood the appropriate groupings. Still, Din started to notice more creatures he recognized.
In any case, it meant that when they made it back to the arena, the guards peeled groups away and lead them to the appropriate entrances. Din followed the others as they were pushed forward and not for the first time, he questioned why no one rebelled. For a moment, he considered the implications, unconsciously moving closer to a guard keeping pace off to his left. Would anyone join him? Did the guards carry more than just those prods? Would it be possible to grab his son and make it to the hanger before anyone noticed what he was doing? As they descended the stairs, he came dangerously close to that guard, and his hands twitched, threatening the violence that had been a constant in his life. But his rational side reasserted itself, there were still too many unknowns, too many places for failure, because ultimately if it didn't work, the trandoshan knew Grogu was his. Again taking the continued slights in stride, he bit his tongue and stepped across the threshold. Still, out of curiosity, he glanced over his shoulder and watched as the guards melted away back into the shadows. Closely paying attention this time, he noticed that while none were ever visible, they had positions hidden in the cell. They were always watching, always a threatening presence.
The cage door clanged shut behind the last creature, extinguishing any chance he would have had, and ensuring he would be fighting in the morning. Shaking his head to clear his murderous intent, he gingerly moved to where he had left his son. He tried to stay as quiet as possible, especially once he noticed Grogu was asleep between Joss and Riva. Din contemplated leaving his son to sleep, but as he looked back at the corner he had claimed, he realized he didn't want to try to close his eyes without knowing exactly where he was. Decision made, Din gently knelt and laid his hand on Joss's shoulder. The young girl blearily opened her eyes. Blinking a few times, she whispered, "Din?"
Din nodded and then quietly asked, "Can I take him?"
Joss scooted away from Grogu and allowed Din to pick him up before she sleepily shifted close enough to wrap her arms around her shivering sister. Din reached over and pulled the blanket over the two, but he didn't regret the decision when Grogu groggily curled into his chest. Din carefully stepped over to their corner and once they were settled, his mind turned again to the help he had bargained for. He had to believe the deal he had made would come through tonight. Cuddling Grogu into his chest and pulling the cloak over him, he gave the kid a chance to keep sleeping as he laid his head back against the wall. He didn't close his eyes and instead turned his attention to the door, waiting to see if he was going to get that assistance.
It took a little more than an hour but eventually, his new ally seemingly kept his promise. Din had just started to dose off, when a guard stepped up to the bars and loudly yelled, "Mando!"
Din started awake and it took him a moment to understand where the call came from, but once he did, he pressed to his feet. Gently wrapping the cloak around his son, he settled him in the corner, tucked close to the wall. Grogu grumbled a few times but curled the cloak under his chin and eased back into sleep. Once he was out again, Din turned toward the gate. The light in the room was minimal but eventually he caught sight of moonlight on fabric.
Snatching it away without acknowledgement, Din turned his back on the guard. Digging through the contents, Din realized it was exactly what he needed: a few antibiotic shots, bacta patches, a needle, some fine thread, bandages, clean towels, even some protein bars. For a moment, he considered waiting until the next morning to hand it over, but he didn't see the point in another night of painful suffering.
Crouching near her family, Din whispered, "Joss." He waited a moment for the young twi'lek to wake up. When she didn't, he called her name again and waited patiently as she turned just enough to see him. Din gestured for her. He felt marginally ashamed when she sleepily slipped out from under the blanket and made sure her sister was covered before crawling over to where Din was crouched. As soon as she was close enough, Din held out the bag with a short explanation, "This should be enough to help your dad."
Joss's eyes narrowed slightly as she took in the clearly heavy satchel. It was possible to see her working through the deeply ingrained distrust she rarely showed. After a frozen moment, she snatched the bag from him, dropping it before her and digging through the contents. Her bright eyes widened incrementally as new gifts were revealed and when she finally got to the bottom, her now-wonderous gaze turned to him. Her voice was quiet when she asked, "Are you sure?"
Din nodded. He almost left it there, but he had been forcefully quiet earlier in the night and now he didn't want to be. He kept his voice low when he explained, "You've helped me and many others far more than can ever be expected, this is the least I could do."
Joss's eyes welled up with tears. She looked down at the bag sitting open at her knees before she looked back up at Din. In an instant, she launched forward, wrapping her arms around his neck.
Din froze, his arms bent at an awkward angle behind her. Joss didn't seem bothered as she wrapped her arms tighter around his neck. It didn't take long before she sniffled a few times against the beskar. Shaking himself out of his discomfort, Din wrapped his arms lightly around her shoulders. Stiffly patting her back a few times, Din came close to pushing her away when she didn't immediately release the death grip she had on his neck. After a few minutes of quiet 'thank yous' intermixed with hiccupped sobs, Joss dropped back down on her knees. Wiping her eyes a few times, she looked up at him and said, "Thank you, Din."
Din settled back on his heels, and earnestly said, "I hope it helps."
Joss nodded before she turned and darted back to her family.
Din watched as she excitedly shook her mother awake. Shaking his head with a smile, Din crept back over to their corner. He was tired but for the first time in a long time, he felt human. He settled Grogu in front of him and laid down, his back to the wall. But as he pillowed his arm under his head, he looked down and saw Grogu looking at him. He was softly smiling even as his eyes started to droop closed again. Din sighed contentedly, as Grogu purred and curled into Din's chest, patting the armor a few times as he closed his eyes. Din watched him and for the first time in days, his anger and fear pressed to the back of his mind.
As Grogu nodded off, he felt the change in his father's demeanor. The edge that had been sitting on his mind had softened and the exhaustion that had hung around his neck had eased. There was a lightness to his person that Grogu hadn't felt in a long time. He appreciated the change. And while he wasn't quite sure what it was, he felt a swell of warmth in his chest that had nothing to do with his powers. Snuggling into his father's chest, he tried to convey his feelings the best he could, purring and growling in equal measure. He heard the smile in Din's voice when he quietly said, "Hopefully that will help." Grogu curled up close and closed his own eyes, content in the glimmer of his father and determined to keep it that way.
As the sun rose the next morning, it wasn't enough to wake Din. As creatures started to move around them, it still wasn't enough. And then finally, the cage doors started to grate as the fights started for the morning. It was only then that Din was finally, groggily, jarred awake. He didn't immediately get up, instead choosing to settle against the wall, and continue to doze. Grogu did the same. As he hovered in the twilight, Din realized he felt better, even if he still could have used a few more hours of sleep.
Still, the inevitable happened. His trandoshan guard appeared, Din scooped Grogu up, and they followed the procession to the newest entrance.
"He has become one of your most demanded champions! The owner of the beskar armor, the dangerous, the vicious, the undefeated…Mandalorian!"
Din adjusted his vambraces and a few more pieces of armor as he waited for the introduction to end. Once he knew everything was in place, Din glanced down at Grogu and muttered, "I'll be back as soon as I can."
As he finished the title, the announcer swung his arm toward Din's door. Following the terrible tradition, Din stepped out onto the sand and stalked to the center of the arena. The crowd erupted. Din belatedly realized there were far more cheers than he had heard in the beginning. Apparently, his standing among the onlookers had changed considerably in only a few weeks. The colorfully dressed citizens stomped their feet and cheered, most holding that two-fingered salute high over their heads. As he always did, he slowly turned to survey the arena, his gaze slipping between the crowd and the various cage doors.
The announcer's booming voice carried over the celebration as he laid down the challenge. "He will be facing his most dangerous opponent yet." His voice lowered conspiratorially as the crowd quieted, waiting to hear who it was. He started again at nearly a stage whisper, "His people gave him many names…" The crowd hushed at that description, playing into the theater. The arena fell so quiet, the metallic click of a lock echoed through the heavy air and only then did the announcer start again, raising his voice with each title, "Steelclever, Deathbreaker, Bladesworn…" He paused again, allowing the excitement to swell.
Seemingly on cue, Din caught the cage clanking open. The shadows parted almost materially as a lithe human strode out onto the sand holding a wicked looking glaive. The staff, topped with a sharp, hooked blade that curved over the top, was nearly two feet taller than the man who calmly came to stand next to Din. He couldn't help but glance up at the weapon, his mind turning as he considered ways to combat the reach that came with it. All the while, the crowd whooped and hollered in anticipation. The man tipped his head toward Din before crisply turning to face the Administrator.
Playing into the rising excitement, the announcer's booming voice rebounded above the crowd, "You know him best as Rhell Tarfus, the Golden Adder!" At that title, the man smoothly swung his glaive to the side, and bowed at the waist. The crowd stomped their feet, clapped, screamed; only for the Administrator to stand, and step toward the edge of the platform. Inexplicably, he inclined his head toward the new combatant. The action shot shivers down Din's spine. He had never seen the Administrator show any real respect to anyone.
Rhell maintained his bow until the crowd quieted, but an expectant hum was left in its place as all eyes turned their thinly-contained anticipation to the announcer. Only then did the presenter swing his arms out and announce, "May the best combatant take the day!"
In a flash that earned Rhell his nickname, the man snapped out of Din's reach, spinning the glaive before him as he moved. After a few steps, he leaned onto his back foot, and cracked the glaive out to his side. He stared Din down, sharp eyes narrowing with dangerous intent, bucking the calm demeanor from just moments before.
Din stepped back warily, moving slowly to his left, circling around to what he assumed was the man's weaker side. Although given the way he moved the staff, there was little truth to a weak side. He quickly realized this man wouldn't move recklessly or weaken unintentionally. Adrenaline focused Din's attention on his limber foe.
A fixated Rhell smoothly moved the glaive across his back, and mirrored Din's motions. The crowd hushed as they watched what quickly became a deadly dance. Neither moved into range or lashed out, they just continued to circle each other. After a few long minutes, the crowd started to get visibly restless. The expectant hush broke into frustrated mutterings and in the corner of his mind, Din caught the announcer quieting the crowd, "For two fighters of this caliber, it is imprudent to assume they will attack quickly. They are not without skill or reason." He paused as the frustrated grumbling continued. Only then did he add, "It only means the fight will be more exciting when one strikes first."
The stalemate didn't last much longer than that. Din saw the change in the Adder's demeanor. His slow circle had become a slightly oblong one as he purposefully moved into a position where he could reach Din. The advantage was that this testing meant than when the first strike came, Din would have a chance to expect it. Unfortunately, he didn't understand just how quickly the man could strike. On a silently decided upon turn, Rhell's strides sped up and he lunged, swinging the glaive in a broad swipe. It glanced off Din's pauldron as he slid back to avoid the attack. The metallic shing rang out clearly, drown out only a moment later by the cheering the burst out at the first strike. Almost as one, the crowd leaned forward, waiting with bated breath for the next one.
Rhell spun the glaive behind his back taking the missed strike in stride as he tried the same motion again. Taking a few rapid steps, he quickly closed the distance between them and struck out with the head of the glaive instead of broadly broadcasting a swing.
The action caught Din slightly off his guard, but the blade glanced harmlessly off his chest plate. Still, it was enough to excite the crowd's bloodlust. They pressed to the edges of their seats as they watched Rhell gracefully swing the glaive behind his back. It was an impressive display of control but, as he tried to track the movements, Din realized it had the added practicality of giving him a chance to switch his grip.
Din forced out all the background noise, his attention focused solely on his opponent. He needed an opening and attacking first wouldn't provide it. He needed to close the gap. In his hyperfocused state, he caught the slight feint Rhell gave a moment before lurching to his right and whipping the glaive toward Din's stomach. He saw the movement with enough time to duck out of the way but this time Rhell didn't pull back. Holding onto the momentum of the strike, he dipped the glaive into a low swing, turning it twice over his head, and striking down onto Din's shoulder. The blade glanced off his beskar but deflected down across his chest, the hook narrowly missing his throat.
As the flashing blade continued downward, Rhell leaned into the flowing movement, passing the staff behind his back and somehow switching hands, allowing him to swiftly swing up at Din's waist. Turning his hip into the attack, Din hoped to break the rhythmic blows, but the awkward defense did little more that slow down the movement. Rhell spun the glaive back into his dance like a partner that never misstepped.
And without fail, Rhell swung the staff around again. Only this time, Din was ready. He parried the weapon with his vambraces, knocking it back intentionally and stopping it's forward movement. It was enough to break the pattern. Din couldn't help the grim satisfaction he got from the scowl the broke across the Adder's face, but he also couldn't let the opportunity pass. Lurching into Rhell's reach as he spun the glaive behind his back, Din slammed his fist into the man's cheek before driving his other hand into his stomach.
Rhell stumbled back, the glaive finally stopping its dangerous movement.
Din struck out again, catching Rhell high in the chest, and he heard the satisfying choking cough that followed. Twice more, he caught Rhell in the chest and then again in the face before the man managed to get his staff between them with enough force to block Din's blow. The ringing metal left Din with little doubt that without the vambraces, the blow would have broken his wrist. Aggressively, Din tried to grab the staff but couldn't get a handle on it before Rhell whipped it away, dancing back a few, crucial steps.
But the measured control disappeared as Rhell swung the glaive over his head and behind his back only twice before again stepping into range. The metal flashed in the sunlight as the Adder lashed out. Din felt the staff crack against his thigh. Reacting instinctively, he kicked to the side, only to feel the bite of metal as the blade finally caught something the beskar couldn't protect.
Din groaned in pain as the weapon's gleaming blade again spun away from him, a thin coating of blood along its edge. Training told him it had been a glancing blow, but that didn't mean it hurt any less.
The crowd roared. The baying Din had been waiting for, began in earnest. He desperately needed to get back within Rhell's reach and as he dropped back into a defensive stance, he itched to pull out his vibro-blade. He needed something to balance these odds. But a brief whisper told him that no matter the circumstances of his victory, pulling an unoffered weapon would result in his death. He held off, watching as Rhell whipped the glaive around with purpose. The ire was gone, replaced with a wicked smile emphasized by the quickly blackening eye. The wound offered little comfort as droplets of blood streaked off the edge of the constantly moving weapon.
Din watched the blade turn through the air as he tried to anticipate where the next strike would come from. Once. Twice. Thrice. Four more times, the blade cracked against his armor as he managed to anticipate where the strikes would hit. He was blocking the blows but the strength of the strikes were wearing him down, bruising his arms and chest. Still, it wasn't enough to throw off Rhell's rhythm as he compensated for the defenses. With each ringing blow, the crowd gasped and hollered. With each consecutive miss, Din saw the anger and felt the increasing pain that rang up his arms with the blocks.
Then Rhell did something Din couldn't anticipate. The man spun the glaive before him, switching hands and passing it behind his back. It made it seem as though he was going to attack from the right but at the last moment, he turned on his heel, and swung with all his strength. To the left.
Din tried to react, moving out of the anticipated strike range but the rapid change cracked the staff across Din's right arm a split second before the Adder reversed his hold and dragged the blade across his unprotected upper arm. It was a good strike. Din tried to turn away, but it was too late, and the full length of the blade tore through the skin and muscle, opening his arm to the bone. Rhell grinned like a madman as he spun the glaive and swung the butt of the staff toward Din's chin.
Pain exploded in Din's arm and at the same paradoxical moment, he lost feeling in his hand. Instinctively, Din clenched his teeth on a scream and snapped his moveable hand to the wound. But somehow, he had enough sense to keep his attention on Rhell. He managed to catch the second part of the attack and dipped just out of the way of the edge of the staff. Clenching his teeth, Din took the last chance he knew he would have. Din lurched forward and pressed within Rhell's reach. Using the man's confidence, Din swung with his uninjured fist. Even through the haziness of his vision, Din caught the man in the face with a glancing blow. It did little but it was enough to clear Din's vision. Swinging again, he put his weight behind the blow and was rewarded with harsh crack. Blood spilled out of the man's broken jaw and the Adder stumbled away.
Reaching out, Din caught the staff before it slipped out of his reach. Yanking hard, Din pulled Rhell back toward him. With vicious efficiency, Din drove his foot into the side of Rhell's knee. The Adder crumpled. Din tightened his grip on the glaive and hauled the staff up, opening Rhell up to an attack or forcing him to let go of the weapon.
When the man held on, Din slammed his foot into the Adder's chest hard enough to break a few ribs, even through the armor he was wearing. As Rhell instinctively curled briefly over the wound, Din jerked up on the staff with everything he had left. Thankfully, it was enough to force the Adder to release the weapon. With the lack of support, Rhell dropped onto both knees. In desperation, Din whipped the butt of the weapon up and caught him under the chin. Rhell's head snapped back, and his eyes rolled briefly but he recovered and snarled up at Din, starting to push to his feet.
Din refused to give him the chance and swung the end of the staff across the man's temple. Finally, Rhell slumped to his side. His eyes rolled up again but even after all that, it didn't quite knock him out. Din dropped the glaive behind him and fell to his knees – both out of exhaustion and necessity – before driving his fist into Rhell's temple, knocking him out completely. Din dropped his hands to his knees, breathing heavily as he tried to keep the sickened feeling at bay.
The crowd lost its mind.
Pressing his good hand to the wound, Din ignored the blood pulsing between his fingers and stumbled to his feet. Dizziness hit him and he unwittingly groaned and staggered a few steps to his side, wrapping his hand more tightly around the wound. As if it woke up the nerves, agony shot up and down his arm. Gritting his teeth, Din squeezed hard, and tried to keep up as much pressure as he could while he waited for his victory to be called. Dragging his head up toward the platform, he started when he noticed his patron standing next to the Administrator. His ghosted smile was plastered on his face, but Din didn't like the contemplative air. Tarex took a step toward the edge of the platform and looked down at Din. Annoyance was the only way to describe the smooth features – his lip was turned up, his nose slightly flared, and his eyes narrowed – and then back toward Din's patron.
Seemingly oblivious to the studious decisions being made, the crowd was whooping and crying their appreciation. They pounded on the stone walls, stomped their feet, and some along the front row of the stadium even reached down as if trying to touch Din.
Din stood as straight as he could, trying to ensure he didn't look nearly as exhausted or hurt as he was. He refused to show that weakness.
Tarex continued to study him, and for a moment the man's face blurred as the pain worsened with each passing moment. Din needed to escape from the scrutiny. Finally, Tarex dipped his head in Din's direction with far less sarcasm than the last time. Din returned the acknowledgement just as a gate off to his right cranked open. Without waiting for the crew that would inevitably show up, Din turned toward it, his shoulders dropping as he took an exhausted step forward only to stumble on his wounded leg. He recovered quickly but the motion was still jarring enough for stars to explode behind his eyes. He only vaguely noticed he made it into the shade.
"Rough fight?" The trandoshan cackled as he stood with his arms crossed on his chest, waiting for Din farther into the tunnel.
Without a word, Din strode passed him, biting his tongue to keep from groaning and flexing his fingers to make sure the wound wasn't too visible. Still, his arm was covered in blood and he knew it was dripping off the fingers of his gloves, there was only so much to hide from even a casual observer.
The trandoshan's slitted gaze followed and only once Din had passed him, did he add, "That's a pretty nasty wound, Mando. Might wanna be nicer to them patrons, they could help you with that." He shouldered passed him, grin widening when he jostled the arm, causing Din to hiss in pain.
Din took only a hesitant step when he realized the trandoshan's back was to him. But he was thankful for the helmet hiding the involuntary tears building in his eyes. He kept his head down as long as he could, focused on putting one foot in front of the other and gathering his strength for when he would have to portray control. Rolling his shoulders back when he saw the guards with Grogu, Din refused to allow anymore allusions to his weakness.
As soon as he had seen Din leave the sand, Grogu turned to wait for him. He had watched the fight and he knew his father was going to need help. It didn't take long for the lizard-looking creature to step under the arch and Grogu sensed Din was not far behind him. He hurried forward and practically bounced on his toes as he waited for his father's arrival. As soon as Din came into view, Grogu realized how hurt he was. Tottering the rest of the way toward him so he didn't need to move any farther, Grogu laid his hands on Din's boot and tipped his head up at him, his ears drooping. Din knelt next to him with a quiet groan, tipping his head to the side and gently shaking it before scooping Grogu into his arm. It was awkward; Grogu balanced on Din's elbow because he didn't want to make his father move his other hand, instead, he held onto the pauldron.
Once he was settled, Din climbed slowly to his feet and trudged along behind the guards. Grogu knew he wasn't supposed to, but he was close to Din's chest anyway, so he turned his head into the beskar and closed his eyes. He knew Din wouldn't say anything, he just needed to make sure he wasn't seen, and no one would if he was just quiet about it. He couldn't see the wound, which made it much harder, but he could sense the wrongness and he reached for that. It was a deep cut and as he closed his eyes, he felt Din's anxiousness about the wound. It was disconcerting, but Grogu wanted to help. Imagining the wound closing, he quietly started to heal it, starting with the deepest cuts.
By the time they made it back to the cage, Grogu had managed to heal a good portion of the wound but had to stop when he felt himself waver on Din's arm. Forcing himself to stop, Grogu closed his eyes and focused on balancing.
As he walked, Din simmered on his fear as he felt the wound closing. He spread his hands over it, trying to cover any obvious healing and while it was relatively painful, there was little he could do to stop Grogu from doing it. He couldn't call him out with so many witnesses around. Instead, he bit his tongue and walked as quickly as his guards would allow.
Once he got back to the cell, he hurried back to their spot. Settling Grogu down on the bundle of his cloak, he quietly said, "What did I tell you? You can't do stuff like that…" He reached over the young Jedi's head and pulled the few bandages he had left free from the bag crushed into the corner. Unwrapping one of them, he continued, "Everyone saw that wound, what happens if I'm suddenly alright?"
Din pressed an edge of the cloth to his arm before aggravatedly wrapping the rest of the roll tightly around the still smarting, still bleeding wound. It was better, but it still wasn't healed and his soldering iron had run out of fuel a week ago, so this was all he had left. Once the wound was dressed, Din dropped his head to his chest and let out a shaky breath. Looking back up at his frowning son, he quietly said, "I understand you want to help. And I know that you can. But you can't just do everything. If you do, they might take you away from me."
Grogu growled his discontent at that statement, narrowing his eyes in anger at the prospect.
Din snagged another cloth for the wound on his thigh. His voice was much more even when he continued, "This isn't something that can kill me. It'll hurt like hell, but it'll heal like everything else. Don't expose yourself over something like this." He tied off the bandage on his leg and stepped over his son to rest back against the wall. The fear had dropped out of his tone and all that was left was fatigue, "I don't want to keep having this conversation." He settled Grogu into his lap and begged, "Please, just…stop makin' me." Din dropped his head back against the wall. Closing his eyes and just breathing for a few minutes, he finally let out a heavy breath, and Din turned his gaze down at his son, "You doin' alright?"
Grogu curled into Din's side with cooing purrs. He pressed his hand into Din's stomach and released a calming feeling.
Din chuckled despite himself, "You are a terrible listener. I wasn't wrong when I told Ahsoka that." He curled his hand around Grogu's claw and let out a shaky breath, hesitantly thankful for the relief. As he laid back against the wall, he shakily lifted his damaged arm into his sightline. Flexing his fingers, he felt the weakness, but it was no where near the lack of feeling he had initially felt. Begrudgingly, he muttered, "Thanks, kid."
Grogu curled tighter for a few moments before rolling over and pulling Din's cloak awkwardly over his body and laying it on Din's leg.
Din took the hint and spread his cloak more fully over the both of them. Tucking his good hand under his cloak, he laid his hand against Grogu's back. Rubbing his hand in small circles in an effort to offer as much comfort to him as to himself, Din tried to force himself to get some rest. It wasn't hard to pass out.
The rest didn't last long, barely two hours, when the normal agitation around the possibility of food started. Din dragging his eyes open just in time to catch Joss run forward with her and her sister's bowls. He curled as he retrieved his and his son's bowl. He knew what she was doing, he had watched her do it enough to understand that she was hoping to get the food while it was warm. It was a fine trick, and she was small enough to make it work.
He was leaning down to find the containers when he heard a familiar, choking cry. Whipping around he saw a massive man he had never noticed before, holding Joss in the air by her collar. She struggled against him, the bowls clattering to the ground as she tossed her hands back and clawed at the man's hand. When that didn't work, her eyes teared up and she cried out, "Put me down!" A few of the more mobile fighters moved forward but no one moved into close enough range to help her.
Din was immediately on his feet. Looking down at Grogu, he quickly said, "You stay here. I'll help her." In three strides he pushed through the growing line and stood in front of the brute. Keeping his voice even, Din stepped into the man's eyeline, and demanded "Let her go."
The massive human, who looked as those both parents had been at least half Devaronian, stared Din down with a mad smirked. With a snarl, he spat, "'en who are you to tell me wha'a do, Mando?"
"I'm the one who'll put you down if you don't let her go." Din tipped his helmet up, ensuring the thin light gleamed off the beskar before he snarled, "Put her down. Now."
The large man shook Joss, her head snapping a few times before she corrected for the movement. It was enough that once the man stopped, Din saw the disorientation in her gaze. But he held his attack, if he did, he risked the brute hurting her further. Instead, he squared up. "I'll give you one more chance. Put her down or I will kill you where you stand."
The challenge seemed to be enough to catch the man's attention and he let go of the small twi'lek in his fist. She fell back onto her bottom with a quiet cry but at least she was out of the way. Tipping his head just enough to look at Joss, Din made she was still in one piece. Unfortunately, that left him open to a cheap shot. The sound of flesh against metal had a distinct ring, and while the blow wasn't enough to do damage, it caused his ears to ring. But it also made him angry.
Looking up, Din quickly calculated his risk as he stoically stared down his new opponent. The man snarled and leaned into Din's face, "'hought you were gonna kill me or som'thin'." Decision made, Din dove low at the giant man, knocking him off balanced and slamming him back into the bars. He was dazed and Din took advantage, driving his fist into his face in quick succession. He was rewarded with a sharp crack as the beskar made short work of the man's cheek and nose.
But he was a large man and he recovered enough to shove Din away from him.
And that's it for now. I hope that fight worked and I hope it was worth the wait.
As always, feel free to let me know what you thought in the reviews, I do love hearing from you :)
I hope you all have a wonderful night/day and stay creative!
-Lily