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Chapter 3

~X~

"No one cares who your father was, only the father you will be."

~Mandalorian saying~

Ravana was pleased that her danker was still hanging in the tree, and nothing had come along and stolen it away. Now with two more mouths to feed, this meat would most assuredly come in handy. Not that she expected to be housing them for long, for as soon as the Mandalorian was well enough to walk on his own, she assumed he would take the kid and leave. The idea of him going didn't bother her at all, for he was a rather unsettling fellow, but she knew she would miss his little green companion. In the short time since she'd met him, he had already wormed his way into her heart. However, she would need to speak to this Mando about giving the child a name. It wasn't right to continue calling him the kid. Everyone deserved a name, even if it was only temporary until he found his people and learned what his real one might be.

It was not exactly Ravana's habit to take in strays, but between the adorableness of the child and the desperate situation the Mandalorian had been in, she felt she didn't have much choice. Thankfully the bakta-spray would have him up and around in a day or so, meaning she simply had to play hostess for a short time, then her life would return to the way it was.

Which was what, exactly, she asked herself, her internal voice sounding a bit resentful. Not lonely…but definitely solitary. Sure, she would go to town every now and then to buy supplies, and it wasn't as if she didn't talk to people while she was there – after all, conversation was required to barter and trade. But if she was being honest, she had no true friends who would miss her should she fall prey to an illness or wild animal. It would be months before anyone thought to come looking when she failed to show up for her normal trips to town.

Her uncle had been a wonderful companion, always full of stories about his time serving the Old Republic, but even he had more than once urged her to choose a man from the town and consider settling down to raise a family. However, not one of the eligible men in town appealed to her, or at least none that she'd met thus far. There was one, a rather unsavory fellow named Tannor, who kept showing up at her place now and then, offering his assistance or supplies after her uncle passed on. Yet while she tried her best to be polite, there was no way she would ever consider taking him as her mate. So, until she found that one person she knew she could trust, admire, and love, Ravana would happily remain alone.

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An hour later, just as she said, she arrived back at her place with the danker tied securely to the land-sled. Ravana did her best to work quietly outside the house, gutting and cleaning the beast in preparation for preserving the meat. She would freeze some of it, though her cooler was rather unpredictable, not to mention small, and drying the bulk of it was her best bet. The hide of the animal was far too course to make any use of, so it was tossed into the incinerator along with all the other useless pieces. This left the claws, the spikes from its back, and of course the edible parts.

She was about to start cutting the larger chunks into strips for drying when she heard a shuffling noise behind her. Turning around she spotted the kid, making his way over to her with a toothy grin on his chubby face.

"Hello again," she greeted, squatting down as he approached. "Did you and your friend take a nap like I said?" She wasn't expecting an answer, but his gurgles and coos were still music to her ears. "Are you getting hungry? I plan on making a fine dinner tonight of roast danker, but in the meantime, if you'd like a cup of milk or something, I think I can help you out. How does that sound?"

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Din had apparently been sleeping so soundly he hadn't noticed the kid getting up, nor him leaving the house. Yet when a constant slurping was heard right next to him, it pulled him from his slumber at last. Turning towards the noise, he saw his green foundling standing on the bed beside him, holding a cup in his hands and sipping at it rather noisily. When it saw that he was awake, it smiled at him and held the cup out, offering him a drink of whatever it was inside.

"No thanks," Din told him, sitting up slowly. "You keep it." This seemed acceptable to the kid and he went back to loudly slurping his drink.

As he went to move, the first thing he noticed was that his leg hurt a little less. Granted, it still throbbed painfully, but less than it had before. Sitting up and bracing his elbows on the bed for support, Din took a few moments to look around, refamiliarizing himself with his surroundings. He was grateful that even though he had no idea where he had acquired the cup, or the liquid inside, the kid appeared to have done so in a careful manner, not messing up anything that Din could see. The last thing he needed was for his little troublemaker to have created some chaos while the woman was out, thus requiring her to kick his sorry hide across the planet. Her words still caused him to smile, but that left him wondering how long he'd been out, and where she might now be.

His question was answered by the opening of the door, and a head of auburn curls poking around the corner.

"There you are!" she said in a tone that told him she was talking to the kid and not him. "I told you to leave him alone and let him sleep."

"He wanted to offer me some of his…" here Din stopped, gesturing towards the cup, not knowing what it actually held.

"Milk. That was kind of him," she laughed, stepping inside. "I swear I only turned my back on him for a second and he was gone."

"Like I said…he's agile," Din agreed.

"Would you, by the way?" was her next question.

"Would I what?" he asked in a perplexed tone, for he had no idea what she was talking about.

"Would you like some milk?" came her reply. "You said he offered, but you failed to say if you accepted. I could get you your own cup."

"No, I'm good," he told her, again, smiling in spite of himself. He shifted his weight and swung his legs over the side of the bed, being very careful not to jar his wound. He felt a little better after sleeping, figuring he had the painkillers to thank for that. Still, his body was sore, and he leaned back against the wall, keeping his eye on both the kid and the woman.

"How's the leg?" was her next question, having seen the way he'd favored it while sitting up.

"I'll live," he assured her. Though by his way of thinking, just barely. "The bakta helped."

"Good. I hope you'll be hungry in a few hours, since I plan on cooking a big hunk of that danker for dinner. He was young and tender, so it should be tasty," Ravana informed him. "However, if you start floating around the room after eating it, I can't be held responsible."

"If I what?" Now he was really confused.

"It was the oddest thing," the woman said, coming over and sitting down in a chair near the bed. "When I found the danker with its head stuck in that log – the same one the kid was hiding in, in fact – it's backside was actually floating up in the air. Strangest thing I ever saw!"

"Really," was all Din could think to say in response. He had a pretty good idea what had caused the danker to be doing such a thing, but he refused to even glance in the kid's direction for fear of giving anything away. "That is odd."

"I know!" she agreed. "But I'm still going to eat it, I just thought I should mention it to you first, in case it bothered you."

"I've eaten plenty of things that flew through the air, or crawled on the ground," he said, acting as if he wasn't bothered at all by her revelation. He would have to speak to his companion about keeping his odd tricks to a minimum while they were here, though he could hardly blame the kid for using them to defend himself.

"Then take it easy and I'll let you know when dinner is ready," she nodded, standing up and heading back outside. At the door she stopped. "Do you want me to take him with me?"

"No, he's fine," Din assured her. He was becoming more accustomed to having him around, and it would be wise if he kept a closer eye on him.

"All right." And with a wave, she was gone again.

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By the time the food was ready, Din's stomach had been grumbling something fierce due to the delicious smells wafting in from where Ravana had been cooking outside. If he scooted to the end of the bed, he could see her out the window, roasting the meat over an open fire on a spit. He'd been minding the kid for the past few hours, making sure the curious tike didn't get into any mischief. He'd had to deliver one or two stern warnings about not touching things, but on a whole, he'd behaved himself.

When she came in at last, carrying the tray of meat, Din could tell the little womp-rat had just about reached his limit of entertaining himself, and would soon need to be occupied before he did get into mischief. Were all toddlers this inquisitive and unpredictable, or did he just luck out and get the one species that excelled in such things?

"Just let me throw a few more items together and dinner will be served," she announced as she set the tray on the table.

"I'll have something later," Din replied automatically, more than used to sacrificing a meal in exchange for keeping his identity hidden.

"Oh, no, I have an idea," Ravana spoke up, stopping what she was doing and walking over to where he still sat. "Look here," she said, pointing to a rod above him. "My Uncle Rexl was all about his privacy too, and even if this is a one room house, he said everyone should have their own space." Reaching up, she tugged at a thick curtain, pulling it securely around the bed, blocking it off from any and all prying eyes. "Now you can eat at the same time we do."

Din eyed the divider warily, not sure if he could trust her to remain on the other side if he were to remove his helmet. Far too many people he'd met in his life had been overly curious as to what lay beneath, and he wasn't about to put his faith in a woman he'd only just met, no matter how kind she'd been to him and the kid.

"I can hear the gears in your brain turning from here," came the exasperated voice of Ravana from the other side of the curtain. "You're afraid I'll be tempted to peek if you removed your helmet."

She wasn't wrong. Still, he hated to outright accuse her of such.

"You don't know me, and I don't know you, but I do understand the need a Mandalorian has to keep his helmet on once they've taken…what do you call it…the oath?"

"Yes," Din acknowledged.

"And even if I don't fully understand what all that means, I can promise you that I would never disrespect such a vow," she assured him.

Din reached out and pulled the curtain back open, wanting to see her face. He was usually a good judge of character, able to read a person's expression as well as identify a few tell-tale signs if they were lying. With his helmet he could detect the rise and fall of a person's temperature, as well as the speeding up of their heartbeat, two of the signals that a person was being untruthful or hiding something. Yet, from what he could tell, Ravana was displaying neither of these traits.

"How do you know so much about Mandalorian culture?" he demanded, having found it odd that he hadn't needed to explain any of this to her, she just knew.

"My uncle told me," she answered matter of factly. "He used to travel a lot before he settled down here. He said that not all of your kind wear helmets, at least not everyone from the planet Mandalor do, only those who have taken an oath to a clan or tribe, and after that, they never remove them in front of anyone. Right?"

"He was well informed," Din wasn't sure if he was happy about that or not.

"I only know the basics, believe me," she shrugged. "Still, I want you to know that while you are here, I swear by all I hold dear, I will not attempt to see your face, nor will I pressure you to do anything you don't feel comfortable with. So, pull the curtain and take it off if you want, or leave it on and eat when you like – makes no difference to me. I simply thought you would be able to eat sooner this way." Here she went back to her work, with the kid following her around like a puppy. Din watched her for a long time, trying to decide what to do.

Over the years he'd come up with several different ways to protect his identity, one of them being the proximity alarm installed in his helmet. Most of the time he only used it for danger, but with a little adjusting, it could be set to alert him to anything or anyone approaching. If he set it for just a couple of feet, it would alert him to any attempt she might make to see behind the curtain. His hearing was also very acute, so her sneaking up on him was highly unlikely as well. And…that roasted meat did smell really, really good.

"So, what'll it be?" she asked, her voice breaking him out of his thoughts. "Shall I fix you something now, or do you wish to wait?" Ravana held up a steaming plate, piled high with meat, vegetables and a thick slice of buttered bread, tempting him more than he could stand.

"Fine…bring it here," he huffed, attempting to sound as if he were doing her the favor, instead of the other way around.

With a wide grin, she did as commanded, grabbing a mug of water as well and handing them to him with a look of satisfaction. Then without a word, she pulled the curtain securely shut around him, before heading back to the kitchen.

"Is there anything I shouldn't give the String-bean here?" she called, obviously referring to the kid. Her inventive nickname for him made Din chuckle.

"Don't give him anything you don't want devoured. He doesn't seem to be overly particular about what he puts in his mouth," he replied, slowly taking off his helmet and setting it down beside him, yet well within reach for a quick replacement.

"Duly noted," Ravana replied, apparently finding his answer rather amusing.

He could hear her moving around, yet thankfully keeping her distance. He imagined she was making as much noise as she was in order to offer him reassurance that she was keeping her word and staying on the far end of the room. She talked to the kid, asking him this and that about the food, but getting only non-intelligent responses from him as usual. Still, he seemed happy, and soon Din could hear the child digging into a plate of his own. This prompted him to at last do the same, taking a bite of the cooked danker and shutting his eyes as he savored the delicious flavor. For as much as he had come to hate these creatures – them having tried to kill him and all – he had to admit that they definitely tasted good. That or his hostess was simply a marvelous cook. Either way, Din wasted no time in devouring his food, extremely happy he had chosen not to wait.

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Ravana had been pleased that the Mandalorian had decided to trust her, at least with this small concession. She had no illusions that he wasn't a thoroughly dangerous man, one who she was certain lived up to his creed's reputation. But the fact that he was willing to care for a small helpless being made him…different. If nothing else, his presence in her home was a distraction, something out of the ordinary from the normal life she led. Ravana would enjoy it while it lasted, which would be two days…three at most, and then they would move on. Off to roam the galaxy in hopes of locating the kid's family. She wasn't sure what percentage of success they would achieve, but at least he was willing to try, and that said a lot about his character.

"So…Mando," she called out. "Was my cooking worth taking off your helmet for?"

When there was a short pause, followed by the sound of him drinking from his mug, she figured she must have caught him with his mouth full. At least he was eating it, she deduced.

"It's nourishing," came his short reply, his voice now slightly different without the helmet distorting his words.

"Nourishing?" she scoffed, rolling her eyes at his blatant understatement. "I make a meal fit for a king and all you can say is that it's nourishing? The least you can do is pay me a compliment on the food. The kid here can't even talk yet, and he's already shown me how much he enjoyed the meal."

She heard a long sigh emanate from behind the curtain.

"Fine. The meat is well cooked, the bread is soft, and the vegetables are not overdone. Happy?" was his exasperated response, one that made Ravana smile.

"I'll take that as your highest form of praise," she chuckled, figuring it was the best she was going to get from one so stoic. She looked down at the little fellow, who had just finished his own food, turning to stare up at her with a messy face as he let out a loud burp. "Thank you for the compliment as well, String-bean. That's music to a chef's ears."

Just then the curtain was pulled open, and she could see that the Mandalorian had replaced his helmet.

"Why do you call him that?" the man questioned, tilting his head slightly in confusion.

"Because it feels strange just calling him the kid…or the child, all the time," she confessed, reaching down and brushing a few bits of food off his cheek. "And he's green, so a string-bean sounded fitting."

"Then why not call him tadpole or toad if that's your only criteria?" He folded his arms over his shiny breastplate and leaned back against the wall, waiting for her to respond.

"Not sure if they sound cute enough for him," she reasoned. "Maybe Sweet-pea…or Pollywog?"

"How about just kid," Mando reiterated, sounding as if his word was final.

"Suit yourself," she muttered, leaning in until her face was close to the child's. "But if it's all right with you, I'll call you my little String-bean."

At this the kid began to flap his arms up and down, slapping them on the table and sending what little was left on his plate onto his clothes and face. This made him squeal and laugh even more, eliciting the same response from Ravana.

"Just look at you! You're going to need a bath!" she informed him. She then turned to look at the Mandalorian. "Does he like taking baths?"

Once more the man was silent, leading Ravana to one of two conclusions. One, the kid hated baths and Mando hated giving them just as much, or two…he had no blessed idea. She went with her second guess.

"You've never given him a bath before?" she accused, sounding rather appalled by this. "No wonder he smells! And I thought it was simply because that danker had chased him into that musty old log!"

"I'm sure he's been cleaned…just not by me," Mando admitted. "We stayed on a planet named Sorgan not too long ago and a woman named Omera took care of him for a bit. Then he had a nurse droid for a while too. Either one of them probably took on the task."

"But not recently, is my guess," Ravana huffed, reaching out to pick the wiggling creature up. "You, little one, are getting a bath…now."

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In no time at all, a large pot was filled with water and set on the stove, and a sturdy wooden bucket was placed in the middle of the room where she poured in a helping of cold water first. This fascinated the kid, with him reaching inside and sticking his tiny three-fingered hand into the water.

"And after you get scrubbed up, I'll wash that garment of yours as well," she informed him, bringing out a bar of soap and a soft drying cloth. "Can't have you all squeaky clean and then put something dirty back on, can we?" Ravana turned to look at Mando. "If you have any need to clean up, I do have a wash station through that door. It's complete with a vac-tube and a refresher, but I've always preferred good old fashion soap and water myself. Still, it's up to you."

The Mandalorian just nodded his understanding but didn't move. Ravana could only assume he wanted to watch her bathe the child, perhaps taking mental notes on how it was done so he could copy the action himself later. It amazed her that a full-grown man wouldn't know how to do the simplest thing as wash a kid…and yet, she knew nothing about his past. Maybe he hadn't had a mother to look after him growing up, to see that he scrubbed behind his ears and washed the dirt and stink off himself regularly. So, turning back to her task, she decided not to judge.

By the time the water was hot and ready, the kid was nearly giddy with anticipation. She had never seen his eyes so big before, and after pouring the water in and making sure it was just the right temperature, she began to strip the brown robe-like garment off him.

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Din watched in fascination as the woman took control, doing something that had thus far completely escaped his mind. Children did need things like baths. His own mother had been rather insistent on that subject when he'd been little. Still, that was a long time ago and growing up in the fighting core he'd often been left to his own devices. He used the refresher often enough back on the Razor Crest, but never had he thought to stick the foundling in there. It was obvious he had a lot to learn.

The kid squealed in delight as she lifted him up and placed him in the bucket, his head and ears just reaching over the top. He immediately slapped his hands against the water, splashing both himself and Ravana in the process. This had them both laughing, with Din grinning behind his helmet. The child seemed very happy, and once more he wished there wasn't a bounty on his little green head, one that kept them on the run and unable to settle down someplace and allow him to simply be…a kid. He had once thought Omera would be a good mother for him, but Sorgan hadn't been safe, and neither would Pessue. He had to find the child's own people and hope that they would at last offer him a chance to grow up as he was meant to.

Din was pulled from his thoughts by the sound of the kid, having placed his face in the water and was now blowing bubbles. This had Ravana giggling uncontrollably, making him do it all the more just for her reaction. This was good for him, to have a bit of female attention after only the two of them traveling for so long. It had only been a few months since he'd found him on Arvala-7, but unless Din learned more about caring for the kid, he might be doing more harm than good by keeping him. Reaching out he touched the signet on his right pauldron, the one the Armorer had designed for his clan of two. Maybe he would use the time it took for his leg to heal to learn more about being a parent…a good one. He owed it to the child…to his clan-mate.

Just then he heard a faint popping sound, and looking over just in time, he saw more bubbles emerge from under the water in the bucket. Yet, from the look of amused disgust on Ravana's face, and the slight odor that penetrated even his helmet's filters…he knew those bubbles hadn't come from the kid's face.

Shaking his head, Din gave a long, exasperated sigh.

"Great."

Oh, com on, Mando. Who doesn't like a little bubble-bath? Oh...not those kind of bubbles? Gotcha. ha ha.

Looks like Din and the kid are in good hands. And he should heal OK in a few days. Then, like Ravana said, they would be gone - off to search the galaxy for more little green aliens or the mysterious Jedi.

Ahhhh, but will that truly be the case? Or are they all in for a change in plans? Tune in on Monday and maybe you'll find out.

Also, I would like to thank my new Beta reader and Star Wars connection for her hard work and allowing me to pick her brain about all thing Force related. Welcome aboard the Razor Crest, Starling12!

Thanks!

Guest Reviews:

Wow...does everyone over here in Mando-land have accounts? Good for you guys!