Hey everyone,
I think I'm back on track now, but unfortunately I don't know how long that's going to last. Fair warning, I have exams coming up in the next few weeks so the updates might be spottier than normal / Just wanted to let everyone know. Okay, enough of that...Thank you guys again for your interest and your support! I'm always so humbled by it! And a huge thank you to all of you who take the time to review my story, you guys are absolutely awesome! I want to keep up the tradition and say thank you so much to:
- the fabulous JohnGilbertVampirehunter, Yah, that was really fun to write and the moment I thought about her hugging him, I just couldn't help but write it :) And Grogu is always so much fun to write. Thank you so much for saying that, I really like writing those scenes, it's kind of fun to see if I can visualize them as I write it. I hope you enjoy this chapter!
- the tremendous Indigene Syke, I'm so glad! It's awesome that everything is still exciting, I've been trying to balance that throughout the story so I'm happy it's working! I hope you enjoy this chapter too :)
- the exceptional DinDjarin2005, Thank you! That's definitely what I was going for so I'm glad it worked! I hope you like this chapter!
- the extraordinary HMTyping, Thank you so much! I sometimes write with my eyes closed and try to watch it happen so I'm really glad that's coming through in the writing too :) Sometimes, I have it in my head so it's really nice to know that it works for you too!
- the stupendous She-Elf23, Thank you, thank you! I'm so glad you appreciated that, I really liked writing that scene because I think it is something he would do :) Oh yes for the beskar ringing, that was seriously one of the most satisfying sounds from the series! Well, he never listens haha I figured that would be a good way to get Din through the end of the process. I tried to get this one done quick, I hope you like it!
- the remarkable Lisa Smithers, I'm glad you liked that! I enjoyed writing that because there would have been nothing he could do haha. But he is defintely lucky he has Grogu around to take care of him. I hope you like this chapter too!
Alright, I think that's it for now so without further ado...
Enjoy!
Din fell back but managed to catch himself. It was awkward enough to jar his other injuries, but the adrenaline pounding through his veins kept the pain to a dull roar at the back of his mind. Climbing to his feet, Din brought his fists up as the other man lumbered to his feet. Focusing, he watched for the next opening, only allowing a grim satisfaction when the man exaggeratedly wiped the back of his fist across his mouth. His knuckles were bloodied.
The man's eyes narrowed at the deep red and he snarled low in this throat, fixing Din with a bloodthirsty stare. His voice was gravely and yet somehow thin when he growled, "Not bad, Mando butch'a gonna have ta' try harder than that." He rolled his shoulders and stalked toward Din.
Din refused to let him control the fight. He'd had experienced enough of that for a lifetime. Moving far quicker than his opponent, Din darted forward and slammed his fist into the man's face, crunching already damaged bone. Then he dropped and drove his fist into the man's stomach. In an instance, the adrenaline that had been protecting him from the pain wavered and Din grit his teeth as the blow jarred deep injuries. Growling, Din pressed through it, driving both fists a few more times into the man's stomach before stepping back and lashing out, his fist impacting the man's jaw. He put enough strength behind it to snap the man's head back, and when his chin fell forward again, Din watched his eyes roll. He was dazed and, for a moment, Din thought he might drop.
But instead, anger flashed through his eyes and his meaty hands shot out, catching Din's shoulders. Violent intent radiated off him as he yanked Din forward, smashing his head against the helmet.
The blow didn't hurt, but the ringing it caused stunned him as the lightheadedness his adrenaline had been covering hit him hard. Another flash of pain broke through the psychological protection Din was depending on as the man closed vice-like hands around his upper arms. Involuntarily, Din groaned in agony as pain rocketed through any protection his mind had been able to conjure. Then he saw the nasty grin spread across his opponent's bloodied face. He pulled Din closer and wickedly snarled, "You get injured, Mando?" He glanced at the bandage and intentionally dug his fingers deep into the wound. Din chewed on his tongue, refusing to give the man any kind of satisfaction, but the pain nearly crippled him. In a desperate attempt to get away, Din slammed his head into the other man's face.
He obviously wasn't expecting it and his grip loosened enough for Din to pull his uninjured arm free.
Taking advantage of it, Din slammed his fist into the man's stomach. Its only affect was to cause the man to tighten his grip on the arm he did have. Din reacted instinctively, but it was uncoordinated. He tried to kick him. Tried to get him to his knees. Tried to get him to let go. It didn't work. Instead, the man tightened his hand around Din's arm and that wicked smile widened. He jerked Din's arm forward and slid under the limb with surprising swiftness. Wrenching Din's arm over his shoulder, the man yanked down, and Din felt the bone in his upper arm snap. In the split second between the snap and the inevitable pain, Din realized how unprepared he was for this fight. He was exhausted. And then the agonized pain slammed into him, it was enough that it brought tears to his eyes, but at the same time, it solidified his fight. If this man was willing to hurt him this badly, was this willing to torment a child, there was nothing to stop him if he figured out who Grogu was to him. If Din lost this fight, he would have to deal with the outcome, but his son would pay for his loss.
As that cold steel settled in Din's mind, focusing his fight and dulling everything but the will to end this, the man still held Din's arm over his shoulder. He slowly stretched the injury, and teased, "Thought you were gonna kill me or som'thin'."
Din growled low in his throat and gritted his teeth. Pulling himself up, he slammed his fist into the side of the man's head. It was a weak position, but he managed to catch the man's temple. Once. Twice. Three times. His hand loosened enough for Din to pull away and he pressed the attack. Lashing out at the man's knee, Din got lucky and caught it at the right angle, snapping it to the side. The big man collapsed. Howling in pain, his hand dropped to his dislocated knee. He swore, foaming at the mouth as spittle flew after each consonant. Din spun behind him and wrapped his broken arm around the man's neck. He squeezed as hard as he could, putting as much pressure on his throat as he could.
Unsurprisingly - but painfully - the man bucked. It forced Din to clasp his hand on his fist and pull back with both arms. The bone ground, reverberating in his teeth, his vision slowly narrowing at the edges. He had the upper hand, but unconsciousness was coming far slower than it should have. Still, he held strong, biting back the tears in his eyes, and chewing on his tongue, Din kept up the pressure. Slowly, the man's motions weakened until he finally slumped forward. The motion jarred Din's injuries as he followed him down. He nearly lost his hold, but then he felt the man gasp into dead weight, and he managed to release his arm before it got pinned. Falling back away from the now unconscious man, Din pulled his broken arm to his chest and his gaze snapped to Grogu. Something about the end of that fight had felt wrong and as he caught his son in the confusion, he realized the little creature was standing with his arm outstretched and his eyes closed.
His world narrowed to that minor instance. Grogu's eyes hadn't opened once the man had fallen and in a sickening realization Din heard the quiet exhalation of a death rattle. He was still watching as Grogu's eyes opened. A different kind of sickening weakness fought the nausea the physical pain had caused. Needing to get back over there, but not having the strength, Din groaned as he fell back against the wall. His arm was broken, decidedly so, but he had far bigger issues right now. He glanced over at where his son was watching, now with wide eyes. Breathing heavily, Din tried to collect himself. He needed to get to his son and the anxiety that caused made that far more difficult.
In a flash of teal lekku, Joss was crouched at his side. Her insistent voice floated through his mind, breaking was what quickly becoming an untenable inability to move, "Din? Din?"
Shaking his head back into the present, Din turned just enough to face her and still watch Grogu, he thinly assured, "I'm alright, Joss."
"He broke your arm." She whimpered, her hands hovering just over the injured limb.
Din tossed his head at his unconscious opponent, but his voice held the hollow ring of a man in pain, "Don't say that too loud." He groaned unintentionally and bit his tongue to quiet his reaction. Dropping his head back against the wall, he muttered, "' think he got the worst of it." Taking only a short breath, he forced his eyes open and glanced around, trying to figure out how many people had heard that. Thankfully, it looked like most had moved away to give the two fighters a wide enough berth and none, save Joss, had been brave enough to step close yet.
"I don't think so…" Joss added, her gaze still fixed on the lightly fitted sleeve. A moment later, her eyes widened, and she said, "And…he cut you?" Inexplicably she spun, her gaze flicking across the ground before she distractedly added, "I didn't see him pull anything."
Din tipped his head up and added with a tightness, "It's from the fight earlier."
Joss leaned over the wound, peeling back the dislodged bandages before she earnestly declared, "I can fix that."
Unwilling to take this conversation any farther, Din took a deep breath and pushed to his feet. If pain exploded across his body or if his head rung from the multiple blows he had taken, he tried his hardest to ignore it. It didn't work. Instead, he stumbled into the wall, instinctually throwing his hand out only to remember at the last moment it was a bad idea. His fingers brushed the wall before he pulled the limb in quickly and hit the wall with his shoulder instead. Light exploded behind his eyes as the action jolted the injury and there was no adrenaline left to cover it. Din wavered on his feet, only just dropping his helmet against the wall and closing his eyes.
Joss lurched forward and pressed against his thigh. Resolutely, she ordered, "Din…you can't pass out; I can't help you if you do."
"I'm alright." Din offered breathlessly, pressing his broken arm tightly into his side. "I just need to sit."
Inexplicably understanding the implications, Joss stepped between Din and the stone, pressing her hands into his hip. Once Din shoved away from the wall, Joss quickly switched sides and wrapped her arms around his waist, allowing him to rest his good arm on her shoulders. He didn't quite lean on her, but it was enough to steady him. She moved slowly, making sure to talk quietly to him as she did. The crowd parted, making a path back to Grogu and their sleeping place.
The young twi'lek guided Din to the wall so he had a chance to slide into a sitting position. Grogu purred up at him, desperation clear in his bright eyes before he laid his hand on Din's broken arm.
Din glanced down and gently shook his head, croaking, "No." He was shaking, but thankfully his armor hid it.
Grogu's ears dropped, and he scrunched his nose in disappointment, but he dropped his hand to his side, nonetheless.
Joss glanced back at the line that was forming again at the bars. Excitement or not, dinner still had to be served. She turned back to Din, dropping her gaze before quietly explaining, "I have to get food for my family, but if you give me your bowls, I'll get you some too. I think you should probably stay here for now." She chewed on her lip for a moment before she added, "I'll fix your arm after that."
In a testament to his pain, Din didn't argue, he weakly pointed to the containers pressed under the blanket against the corner. He heard her second offer but didn't have the strength to fight her on it.
The girl reached over and grabbed both bowls before jumping to her feet. Before she could dart off, Din called, "Joss, wait." The twi'lek turned on her heel, but it was obvious she was coiled tight and ready to run, so Din simply said, "Be careful."
She smiled, but the brightness didn't reach her eyes when she tried an air of bluster that fell flat, "Don't think I have to worry about it."
Din tipped his head to the side in warning.
Joss held the bowls up, but dropped her gaze as she shyly said, "I promise, I'll be careful." Without waiting for any more orders, she darted away.
Din crumpled back into the wall, his exhausted gaze falling on his son, "This one's bad, pal." He swallowed hard. He had to ask for help, but it made him feel guilty. Instead, he shied away from it, choosing to gently chastised his son, "You shouldn't have done that. It was a big risk." There was little force behind the words, and he immediately felt guilty when Grogu dropped his ears and dejectedly cooed. His own fear clear in the response to the gentle rebuke.
Too exhausted to continue pretending, Din laid his hand on Grogu's, "'m sorry, I shouldn't have said that." He closed his eyes and took a deep, steadying breath before he admitted, "Truth is, I'd probably be dead if you hadn't." Looking down at his son, he added, "I just wish you hadn't had to."
Grogu's ears lifted with his gaze as he reached out again toward Din's arm with half closed his eyes.
Din groaned and closed his hand gently over his son's. The surety was back in his voice when he said, "You can't right now."
Grogu tipped his head to the side, questioning the change in tone.
Din shrugged with his good arm and explained, "I get if I pass out, you're going to try and heal my arm. Honestly, I need you too, because I won't be able to fight like this. But you have to wait at least until it's dark. Then there's less of a chance that anyone notices what you're doing." Din nodded a few times, willing Grogu to understand. "Can you at least wait until then to try?"
Grogu watched him with searching eyes. After a pregnant pause, he nodded and shuffled forward, tucking into Din's hip.
Din reached across his stomach and laid his hand on his son's back. Thankful for the understanding, he rested his head against the wall. His mind wandered to the thought of food and his stomach turned violently. Forcing down the bile that slipped into the back of his throat, Din willed the queasiness away. He couldn't vomit in his helmet and he couldn't take it off. What he had been doing to eat was bad enough as it was; he would just have to wait until the next morning to eat.
Then the smell of the protein broth hit him as Joss bound back to the pair, containers clutched closely in her hands. Her face twisted into a sickened smile, the guilt still clear on her face. She held the mug out to Din and then knelt next to Grogu. Her smiled brightened a bit when he turned. Her gaze darted shyly up to Din's before she settled cross-legged before him and bent at the waist, contorting herself until she could look Grogu in the eyes. Setting the bowl between them, she quietly said, "'m sorry your dad got hurt 'cause of me."
Grogu babbled and cooed before he shuffled forward enough to touch her hand.
Joss frowned, a few tears building in her big eyes before she looked up at Din. Biting her lip, she diverted her gaze a moment later, but still implored, "You should tell them there was a fight and he hurt you." Her gaze flicked up to Din before she added, "There's proof now, that man…the new one, he's dead."
Din sighed but didn't say anything. Realizing, a part of him had been hoping he had imagined that sound.
Joss watched him carefully before again dropping her gaze to her nearly worn through shoes. Her voice stayed quiet when she explained, "I-I heard the guards talking about it when I was waiting. It won't be a good fight if you can't use your arm." She glanced to the side at some unnamed, unidentified fighter. "Those hurt too bad don't have to fight." She nodded up at him, "You should use that. Heal first and then you fight again when you feel better."
There was something in her tone that didn't quite make sense, and Din hesitantly asked, "What happens if I don't?"
Joss shrugged, tears visibly welling up in her eyes, "Someone else fights…" She trailed off with a sniffle.
"What happens if I don't get better?" Din pressed.
She sniffled a bit more aggressively and furiously wiped away a few of the tears that started to fall, "They take you away and you don't come back."
"Dank farrick." Din swore under his breath. After a long pause, he asked, "If that happens, what happens to those who don't fight? You, Riva...Grogu?"
A few tears slipped freely down her cheeks as she nearly squeakily explained, "My mom will have to fight if my dad...can't." Then she shrugged, "If you're old enough, you fight. I'm not, neither is Riva. If mo...if the...umm..." She scrunched her nose and explained with a huff, "We go away."
"What?" Din asked. Something about that explanation didn't make sense.
Joss tipped her head to the side questioningly, and in a flash of forced maturity, she explained with a shrug, "If we can't fight, we go away. We're slaves."
Din silently chastised himself, before he asked a more direct - and necessary - question, "What would they have you do?"
Joss shrugged again, her hands worrying the frayed edges of her torn pants. Then she finally said, "Don't know. We never hear from them again, they just don't come back."
And then Din finally grasped what he was having trouble understanding. As gently as he could, he asked, "Why bother keeping you around then? Why bring you down here to begin with?" As an afterthought he added, "I would imagine it would be more profitable."
At the comment, Joss's gaze snapped to his and she nearly snarled, "I don't know. It's just how it's always been." Her anger dissipated quickly, and she continued, "Maybe it's easier to use us to keep the fighters alive. Maybe it's easier to keep the fighters in line. I don't know." The sorrow clear in her gaze was heartbreaking. She fell quiet for a moment, only spurred back into conversation by tearing fabric caused her nose to crinkle. Looking back up at Din, the frustration was clear on her face when she demanded, "You need to tell the guards you can't fight like that." She gestured at the arm he was clearly still favoring.
Din quietly promised, "It'll be fine. I'll be able to fight. It's not as bad as it looks." He unconsciously tipped his head over to his son briefly before looking back up at Joss. Only to catch a look of panic cross her face.
She shook her head and hurriedly said, "You shouldn't though. You shouldn't fight."
There was a level of anxiety in her tone that caught Din off-guard, and he couldn't stop himself before he asked, "Why not?"
Joss's eyes welled up and she cried, "You'll get hurt more and then you won't be able to heal and then they'll get rid of you and then Grogu won't have anyone left." It was a hurried train of thought that ended when she hiccupped a sob and she cried, "I don't want anyone else to get hurt."
Din tucked his head back as he watched the young girl cry.
Joss scrunched her face as she became increasingly agitated, clenching her fists to the sides of her head, she looked angrily up at Din and snapped, "You shouldn't fight tomorrow."
Din leaned toward her, ignoring the pain in his arm, as he gently said, "If I don't fight, someone else will have to. Someone is going to get hurt, even it's not me."
Joss's bottom lip quivered as she turned her watery gaze up to the ceiling. Her voice wavered when she argued, "But if you fight with a broken arm, you'll be hurt worse." Then she looked down at him, "What if you get killed?"
Din fixed his attention on her, "I'm not going to get killed." Using his good arm, he pulled her fists one at a time away from the side of her head. Dipping his head toward her, he quietly said, "I'm going to be fine; I promise."
Joss looked up at him, her bright watery eyes fixed on his helmet. But the imploring plea came when she leaned back down to look Grogu in the eyes and quietly said, "You should tell your dad not to fight."
Joss's words tumbled around his mind for the rest of the night while he waited for the sun to finally set. It made him antsy, and he couldn't help but shift against Din's hip as he tried to get comfortable. Grogu hated waiting. It was even worse because Din was trying to avoid crying out, or groaning, or making any noise that betrayed exactly how he was feeling. Grogu tried to make him comfortable but he knew he had to save as much of his energy as he could, so it left him to adjust the blanket and try to communicate calm the best he could. Grogu had been hoping his father would pass out or fall asleep but every time he came close, every time there was a slight snore and his limbs slackened, he jerked awake with a quiet cry.
Through all of it, Grogu could feel him shaking. It wasn't possible to tell by looking at him - the armor was far too bulky for that - but laying against his leg betrayed it. Din hadn't even been able to hold his tongue when Joss had stitched the wound on his arm. Everything about it hurt Grogu. As the filtered reds of sunset dimmed the cage, Grogu found his mind wandering again to Ahsoka...and wishing he was far stronger than he was. With a quiet sigh, Grogu curled into Din's side, and tried to plan what he needed to do.
Unfortunately, that wasn't much of a distraction because outside of instinct, he didn't really know what he needed to do, which took him again back to the anger-ridden realization that he needed to be better. Grogu stewed on that thought as the reds gave way to purples and deep blues and then finally darkness. Almost as soon as the cage fell into shadow, Grogu crawled up on Din's lap and laid his hand on his father's arm. He was tired of waiting. Closing his eyes, he focused on the wound. He fell farther and farther into instinct as his powers drifted past the stitched wound to the more difficult injury. As his powers touched the bones, he saw what almost seemed like a picture in his mind, but it was fuzzy, almost abstract. He could feel fear and distress promising more help and despite the lingering traces of training, Grogu gave into it. He needed to help more than anything. That picture clarified and Grogu realized the bone had broken nearly in the middle of his father's arm. It would be painful, but it felt like the bones were still close together. Touching the edges of the fracture, Grogu thought about them mending.
It took nearly all the strength he had left, but the pieces slowly pressed together. Almost immediately, Grogu felt the enervation pulling at the edges of his mind, but he felt the bone was starting to bind, so he kept going. He used as much power as he could before his control wavered and then failed altogether. As soon as it did, he lost that image and in a slight panic, he scrunched his eyes harder closed, trying to figure out if he had actually fixed the problem. But he couldn't remember. His brain was too tired. Lethargically giving up, Grogu blinked a few more times, and exhaustedly pulled the cloak over him and over Din's lap – he knew he needed to keep his father as warm as he could – before he slumped into Din's stomach.
A gruff, demanding voice echoed through the cell startling Din awake. His eyes shot open, and he straightened against the wall in time to see a rodian slinking toward the front of the cage. He relaxed slightly as awareness slowly worked it way through his groggy mind. Dull aches were the first thing he noticed, and he rolled one shoulder against the stiffness, tipping his head to the side, and trying to loosen the knot. But as he rolled his other shoulder, the sharp pain of the barely healed slice shot through his arm. Din stopped immediately, resting his head against the wall and willing composure. It was only then that he felt the weight against his waist. Glancing down, Din caught sight of his son curled into his stomach. Din smiled softly, laying his hand on Grogu's back, only to realize how much better his arm felt. The stitches still pulled, but the distinct grinding of bone was thankfully absent.
Gently lifting his hand away from Grogu, Din moved his arm and flexed his fingers. There was still a twinge of pain - it couldn't be his dominant arm for a while longer - but it was closer to healed. Looking down at Grogu again, Din quietly considered how incredible it was that he had the small creature's trust. There was little reason for him to have it, but he cherished it, nonetheless. He couldn't understand why, but it was incredibly humbling. Din gently laid his hand on Grogu's back as he continued to sleep. And in that moment, he wondered exactly how much power Grogu had to use to - once again - save him. Unable to do anything else, Din tucked the cloak under his son and relaxed back into the wall, waiting for him to wake up. Or to be called for a fight.
He ended up falling back to sleep for a few more hours. The cell emptied quickly, and they were still left in its confines. While Grogu slept, Din became increasingly concerned but distracted himself by awkwardly eating the broth still in his mug. Finally, Grogu's eyes blinked open owlishly not long after the first of the fighters were brought back to the cell for the day. Din breathed a sigh of quiet relief, "'m glad you're alright." When Grogu looked up at him, Din sincerely added, "Thanks, pal."
Grogu cooed and snuggled close, sighing contentedly.
But that rest didn't last much longer. It was late in the afternoon when someone finally came to get Din. A pair of well-dressed, but lightly armored guards stepped up to the cage door. They were outfitted in brown leathers, but a thin seam of orange betrayed the workmanship from a distance. A commanding voice echoed through the room, "Mandalorian."
Grogu's gaze snapped to Din's before the man stood stiffly with a heavy sigh. Quickly looking for a place to leave Grogu, he noticed Joss playing with Riva near their family. It was only then that Din realized the man he had multiple times seen sweating and unconscious was sitting up, leaned against the older twi'lek. As Din stepped closer, it was easy to tell the man wasn't close to alright, his face was drained, and the heavy bags under his eyes were a testament to his condition, but he was awake. Before he could make it to them, Joss yelled, "Din!" She had a bright smile on her face, and she was waving in his direction. Din glanced at the guards who were shifting impatiently at the doors. He figured he could make them wait.
He stepped toward them with Grogu and carefully knelt before them. He couldn't help but feel the gaze of the man on his back the whole time. Din kept his voice low when he asked, "Can he stay with you again?"
Joss quickly nodded, but then she excitedly said, "Dad's feeling better!"
"Mandalorian!" The title bounced around the room, only emphasizing that disgust that carried with the tone.
Din nodded, "I'm glad to hear that. But I think I have to go."
Joss's smile slipped into a frown, but she nodded and said, "Be careful."
Din tipped his head and looked at Grogu. With an unaffected voice, he said, "You stay with Joss and don't cause any problems, alright?"
Grogu cooed his agreement.
Satisfied Din pressed to his feet and made his way to the out-of-place guards.
The escorted walk led him through the city. The orderly roads were easy to map in his head and he made sure to continuously orient himself between the arena and the palace. It was more information than he had been able to collect in a while. The creatures he walked past tended to look at him with curiosity a moment before they glanced away and there was a causal speed to the city that he had noticed the first time but wasn't sure of its extent. There was a contentment that seemed baked into the sun-dried streets. The guards led him at a clipped pace that quickly aggravated the injury on his leg. He had almost forgotten about it, everything else had been far more immediate, but now it was quickly becoming his focus. Thankfully, as he started to limp, the guards slowed down slightly. That was an interesting development. Din went back to observing.
He saw the massive, three story house and instinctively knew it was where they were going. It took up nearly an entire block and reeked of the pompous nature of his patron. As they stepped closer, the construction caught his attention. The home looked...haphazard. Only the façade was three stories. The rest was an undulating collection of different stories, as if the owner had purchased the homes behind and slowly connected them into a creeping creation. Interestingly, it was only the stories that betrayed this. The entire house was stuccoed with the same color clay, and the traditional window decorations flowed between the stitched together former buildings. The entire structure looked like waves in the ocean. The rising wave facing the street, while the feeder waves built behind, complete with the troughs. Din was intrigued by the design. The guards, that he nearly forgot were there, led him inside.
The interior displayed the wealth the exterior hinted at. The entire lofty-ceiled entryway was lined with deep mahogany wood. On a planet with no trees to be seen, this undoubtedly was a significant expense. Artwork of bright flowers were juxtaposed with violent clashes in the arena Din had become all too familiar with. And those same colors were mirrored in the ceiling and on the floor, his boots clicked across colored stone. The riotous color reflected the contradiction of the planet in a way Din hated.
The guards didn't even flinch at the display, instead leading him farther into the home. Once they were through the entryway though, the decorations changed, becoming more muted and far less noisy, but no less expensive. Din recognized images from Coruscant and other interior worlds, a few he had visited, others he hadn't, but all of it was meant to display power. Although, the wood was less prevalent here, instead only shaping the railing that separated the light blue top of the walls from the deep orange base. Din was so focused on his surroundings that he nearly bumped into the back of the guards as they stopped. He caught himself just as one of them rapped a few times against a solid wood door.
"Come in."
Din recognized that voice and took a deep breath as one guard opened the door wide, and both led him inside.
Much like the rest of what he had seen, this room was far more muted than the entryway, but it was covered in heavy, dark wooden bookshelves, filled with leather-bound tomes, loose scrolls, and a few holographic projectors. There was a wide picture window directly across from the door and a man stood before it with his back to the desk that sat between. Thoughtfully, and without turning around, he said, "You can leave, now."
Without question, the guards left, and Din was alone, staring at the back of the man who apparently was more powerful than he had assumed. Without turning and without introduction, the man snapped, "Are you stupid, Mandalorian?"
Din tipped his head to the side but refused to acknowledge the question.
Turning slowly, the man with the perpetual smile rested his head on his templed hands and sighed dismissively, "Oh that's right, you rarely talk."
Din inclined his head.
The man groaned but then continued with a wiry smirk, seemingly enjoying some game, "You were told to incapacitate him. I believe I was very clear with that. It was in return for those supplies you asked me for."
Din squared his shoulders and coolly said, "I believe you said wound." He let the order hang in the air for a moment before he added, "Head wounds are still wounds." He shifted only slightly on his heels as he tried to keep as much weight as he could off his injured leg.
The man narrowed his gaze for a discerning moment before he smiled broadly, clapping with an exaggerated laugh. "I did say wound, didn't I?" Dropping his hands out to the side, his eyes widened before he added excitedly, almost conspiratorially, "It was quite a fight though. Definitely worth your price."
Din tipped his head only once, acknowledging the sickening compliment.
The man's smile didn't change but the excitement slipped out of his tone when he said, "I realized that I never properly introduced myself the day we met and you being new to the planet would have no reason to know by name. I believed it was time to remedy that." He inclined his head briefly before he said, "My name is Niria Iazal Kubi. You may call me Iazal."
Din didn't respond to the introduction, instead bluntly asking, "Is that the reason you brought me here?"
"Most offer a name in response to being given an introduction." There was a threatening note under Iazal's response.
Din clenched his jaw for only a moment, before he responded, "I am called Mandalorian. Some call me Mando."
Iazal narrowed his gaze, his smile slipping at the corners, but he seemed willing to overlook the potential slight, instead answering Din's question, "I wanted nothing in particular, simply to see if you reconsidered my offer for some kind of assistance."
"I could use a few more supplies…" Din trailed off hesitantly, unwilling to ask for anything more than that.
Iazal leaned to his left, his eyes falling on the bandage still wrapped around Din's arm, "Yes, I would imagine you could use some more supplies. That did seem to be a rather nasty wound." He snapped his fingers and a small servant crept in from some hidden corner. Din hadn't even noticed him. Iazal leaned over and whispered to the servant before he scuttled back out of the room. Iazal's expression was almost bored when he looked back at Din, "I'll have a few things momentarily."
Silence fell. Until finally, Din decided to get something useful out of this imposition. He quietly asked, "What's the main economy of this planet?"
"How do you mean?" Iazal asked, clearly perplexed at the wording.
Din bit his tongue but continued, "Nearly every day there is a set of fights. Those last all day and it seems that the entire population attends so when does anyone do any kind of work? How does a planet function on so little?"
Iazal tipped his head up, narrowing his eyes, "You are observant, aren't you, Mando?" His arrogance and pride were clear when he explained, "This is a planet full of hypermatter."
"That is dangerous and takes effort to mine…" Din trailed off as he let the implications hang in the air.
Iazal turned slowly, his hands held to the side and he slowly asked, "You think you're the only slaves on this planet?"
Din stiffened but didn't respond.
"You do." The man offered with quiet surprise. Then he continued far more seriously, "Those who are not useful for the Harena are used in the mines." He shrugged nonchalantly and added, "Unless they're good for something else, but few really are. Some citizens like children in the home, they're easier to train and they tend to be more grateful for any type of protection, but for the most part those who don't fight, mine."
Din bit his tongue. That must have been where the others Joss had mentioned went.
Iazal didn't seem to notice as he continued to muse over the horrendous practices, "I've purchased a few children of combatants in the past, and while many have some kind of rudimentary medical knowledge, they have little else to offer." He frowned thoughtfully and added, "They do tend to learn quickly, but at the same time, they have to grow and maintaining too many of them makes it difficult to ensure a house is run well."
Din didn't move, just continued to allow the man to talk, and tried to keep the fury boiling just under his skin in check.
Iazal continued laying out the mundane thought processes that went into owning others, "It's better to have a mix of creatures, those who are older and those who can train the younger generations, it makes for a more useful work force."
Din's stomach turned at the nonchalant explanation, his hands closing into fists at his side.
It was obvious that Iazal quickly became bored with his explanation because when he finished, he asked, "Do you not ever just...talk?"
"I have little to say." Din responded, but his voice was tight as he tried to keep his anger under control.
Then Iazal seemed to notice something, he stepped around the desk and exaggeratedly leaned into Din's face as if studying his eyes through his helmet. Finally, he rocked back and concluded with surprised, "You're angry." He leaned back against the desk and that ghost of a smile broadened into a true grin, "That is interesting. So, you do feel emotion. There has been some debate about that. I wasn't quite sure what side to take." Then he added, "Now I know." Without warning, a wolfish grin slipped across his lips and he added with a smirk, "Does it have something to do with that little green creature you care for?"
Din's head snapped up, but he refused to say anything. Instead, he ground his teeth together until they felt like they would crack.
Iazal tipped his chin up and quizzically asked, "What is it anyway?" When Din didn't answer, Iazal grinned predatorially and continued, "That's been another point of contention."
Din took a threatening step forward this time, his hand falling to his hip, but the holster simply collapsed.
"Well, this is intriguing." Iazal drawled, his sharp eyes narrowing as he took a step closer to Din, his fingers coming to rest under his chin. "I wasn't sure how accurate those reports were, but it seems as though you truly are protective of that little creature."
Din's hands started to sweat and the hackles on the back of his neck went up at the threat implicit in that knowledge. He tipped his head threatening but refused to say anything.
Iazal scoffed and retreated back around the desk before he added almost as an afterthought, "I have informants throughout the cells, I know plenty about what you have been up to." He stopped behind the desk and leaned forward on the mat laid across it before he said, "From what I understand, those supplies I gave you the first time went to a small twi'lek child whose father used to be a rather skilled fighter." Before Iazal could say anything more, the hunched servant appeared at the door he had scurried through, a heavy bag clutched in his gnarled hands. Iazal flicked his hand toward Din and dismissively said, "Give it to him. Then lead him out of here, I'm assuming it's close to time for dinner in the cells."
Panic was screaming at him to kill this man, to destroy what he knew, to get away, but practicality warned him off. He would never make back to the cells and to a ship before he was killed or captured. But something needed to change.
She'd had bad dream before. Everyone did. But sometimes it was difficult to tell the difference between a premonition and a night terror. That was always the dangerous part.
And that was the case now. Pressing her hand to her forehead, she closed her eyes with a tired sigh and tried to remember exactly what she had seen. Unfortunately, it wasn't anything concrete. It was feelings. Fear. Panic. Anger. Nothing definitive enough to trace or investigate. And nothing unique enough from her own emotion to point to someone else. The only way to tell if this was a future path was for the dreams to keep happening, to sharpen the picture. Without that, it was just a passing nightmare.
And that's all I have for right now!
As always, feel free to leave a review :) I love hearing from you, and please know that you're all amazing!
I hope you all have a wonderful night/day and stay creative!
-Lily