By the time Din had gotten Grogu ready for the day and made breakfast for the two of them, the suns were high in the sky, the air hot and dry. The palace's stone walls kept the space relatively cool throughout the heat of the day, but Din was still sweating underneath the weight of his beskar. He convinced Grogu to eat in the throne room instead of the kitchens, where the absence of a hot stovetop meant it was a little cooler, and settled the kid in front of a bowl of soup.
He watched the kid eat, picking at his own breakfast absent-mindedly, his helmet on the stone floor beside him.
"Good?" He asked.
"Ahh." Grogu agreed happily, waving his spoon in Din's direction. "Da?" He asked, looking at Din's mostly full plate.
Din made himself take a bite of fruit under Grogu's watchful gaze, and the kid turned back to his own breakfast, appeased. Watching the kid demolish his meal, Din ate the rest of the fruit and some of the flatbread before setting the plate aside.
The room felt too large in Boba's absence, the meal unsatisfying. The sound of Grogu's spoon clanging against the bowl echoed against the stone walls. The back of Din's neck itched, sweat dripping down his back, an odd feeling writhing in his stomach. The hairs on his arms prickled, suddenly on alert.
Grogu stopped eating, looking up at Din with wide eyes, still brandishing the spoon. "Da?"
"I know, kid." Din murmured, picking up his helmet and putting it on. Engaging the seal, he blinked as his eyes adjusted to the visor's narrower field of vision. "I feel it too."
"Ahhh." Grogu mumbled, pushing away the spoon and the nearly empty bowl. He toddled over to Din, watching as Din slowly got to his feet.
"Stay behind me." Din said softly, keeping his voice steady to avoid scaring Grogu. "I'll be right -"
A sudden crash echoed throughout the room as the palace doors were blasted open, the sound reverberating through the throne room. Smoke filled the room, clouding Din's vision and itching his throat.
Grogu leapt behind Din with a frightened cry, hiding his face in Din's leg. Coughing, Din reached for his infrared sensors, scanning the room for intruders.
"I know you're there." He growled, the sensors latching onto a shadowy red image, emerging from the smoke.
"Come out with your hands up." A low voice barked from somewhere near the door. "Or we burn this place to the ground."
"Aah?" Grogu squeaked, pressing his little nose into Din's calf.
"You're in no position to bargain." Din snarled, his sensors finally getting a good read on the mercenary, opening up a clear line of sight. He fired a shot straight into the intruder's heart, the smell of plasma burning in his nostrils. The man screamed and went down, but others were already running through the doorway to take his place, the outline of their bodies red in Din's infrared vision.
"Give up, Mando, and we might let you escape with your life." A large, muscled Twi'lek emerged from the smoke, blaster trained on Din. The other attackers moved in closer, their weapons all trained on him. "There's ten of us, and only one of you."
"I like those odds." Din retorted, shifting his leg slightly to hide Grogu from sight. The kid squeaked softly, his ears twitching behind Din's leg.
"Look boys, it's his pet." The Twi'lek snarled, reaching for the detonator clipped to his belt. "What do you say we kill you and take that little thing to the Hutts? I bet they'd love to have it for their collection."
The other mercenaries laughed harshly, the sound ringing in Din's ears. Anger burned in his chest, mixed with single-focused determination. "Leave, or I kill you where you stand."
"Wrong answer." The Twi'lek laughed, throwing the detonator in Din's direction and jumping behind a pillar.
The blast threw Din backwards, his shoulders hitting the stone wall with so much force it drove the breath from his chest. His vision sparked white and black, adrenaline pumping in his veins. He felt around blindly through the smoke, his ears ringing, his body aching.
"Grogu?" Din shouted, desperation coloring his voice.
He grabbed hold of a solid body, wrapping his forearm around the man's throat. The mercenary grasped helplessly at his arm, thrashing wildly, his blade slashing just under the edge of Din's armor, slicing through his flight suit. Din shouted as the vibroblade stabbed him in the stomach, pain roaring up his spine, and stumbled for a moment. The man dug in with the blade, blood dripping onto the floor, but Din grabbed his wrist and twisted until the attacker screamed and dropped the knife. Din took advantage of his moment of distraction to unclip the darksaber and activated it in one smooth motion, holding it up to the man's throat. A kind of savage pleasure took over him as the man stopped his struggle in an instant, his body rigid with fear. This close, they could both feel the heat of the darksaber, hear its low crackle, sense the danger of the plasma blade.
"Don't try it." Din hissed, tightening his grip and holding the blade steady. He was breathing heavily now, blood trickling down his stomach, pooling in his boots. Guess I'll have to get a new flight suit. He thought distantly, blinking away the spots that danced in his vision.
"Where is the kid?" He snarled, blinking as the thick smoke began to clear.
"Looking for this?" The Twi'lek stepped out of the lingering smoke, holding Grogu savagely by the neck.
"Drop the saber." He said, pressing the tip of his knife to Grogu's ear. The kid whimpered, his eyes huge with fear.
"I don't think so." Din growled, tightening his grip, holding the darksaber close to the man's throat. "Let the kid go, or your friend here meets an unfortunate end."
The Twi'lek just laughed, showing off teeth that were yellow and crooked. "Go ahead. You kill us and you'll have an army on your head."
Din scoffed, baring his teeth behind the helmet. "Go ahead."
"Cocky, aren't you?" The Twi'lek grinned, digging his dirty nails into Grogu's neck.
Anger rushed through Din at the sight, the darksaber trembling in his hands. "Give me one reason why I shouldn't kill you where you stand." He eyed the other attackers, taking in the blasters aimed in his direction, his heart pounding.
"I don't think you want to do that." The Twi'lek said, his voice oily and smug. "You see, you don't want to make my boss angry."
"Your boss?"
The Twi'lek smirked. "You can tell Boba Fett that the Hutts send their regards."
"Mos Espa is no longer under Hutt control." Din growled, his head spinning, his flight suit sticky with blood. His lungs burned, his own breath harsh and loud.
"Fool." The Twi'lek laughed harshly. "Tatooine will always be Hutt territory."
"Last chance." Din panted, black dots swimming in his vision. "I can bring you in warm, or I can bring you in cold."
"You're loyal, aren't you." The Twi'lek grinned, scraping a nail down Grogu's cheek. The kid whimpered, his eyes large with fear. "Who knew Fett had such a devoted pet."
Din snarled wordlessly, anger bubbling in his veins, and decapitated his captive in one smooth stroke, the darksaber hissing as it cut through the man's flesh. He threw the body aside and dodged as the mercenaries fired in his direction, blaster bolts singeing his cloak, ricocheting off of his armor.
Grogu screamed, throwing his arms in front of him, the room quaking as the men flew across the room, crashing into the stone wall and falling motionless to the floor. The kid ran to Din, who scooped him up and held him close to his chest.
"You all right?" He asked, checking Grogu for signs of injury.
"Ahh." Grogu whimpered, tucking his face into Din's neck.
The Twi'lek groaned, stirring from his position on the floor. Without looking away from Grogu, Din fired a single shot to the Twi'lek's chest, the burning smell of plasma hanging in the air.
"It's okay." He murmured, patting Grogu's back gently, the kid's little shoulders trembling as he clutched Din's chest plate with his little claws. "It's okay."
"Ahhh. Da?" The kid pressed his cold nose further into Din's neck.
"You're okay." Din said softly, pressing his helmet to Grogu's forehead, rubbing the kid's back. "They're gone, they're not coming back."
He bounced Grogu up and down gently, deactivating the darksaber and clipping it to his belt. Looking around the room, Din sighed, wincing as the movement strained the wound in his side.
"We've got some cleaning up to do, huh?"
Grogu peered out at the room, half of his face still tucked into Din's neck. "Patu." He agreed.
"Yeah." Din muttered, stroking one of Grogu's ears soothingly, his own fingers trembling slightly. Blood dripped down his stomach, down his legs, sticky and hot. He took a deep breath, his vision blurry as the adrenaline subsided, the pain returning with a vengeance.
"Better get to work, huh?"
Grogu made a soft grumbling sound, clinging tightly to Din's chest plate. "Ahh."
"In a minute." Din agreed, patting the kid's back gently. He blinked away the black spots dancing in his vision, bouncing Grogu up and down gently.
They stood together silently for a few moments, the only sound Grogu's snuffling breaths. Suddenly, more footsteps echoed down the hall, the sound of boots against stone a loud clatter.
"Ah!" Grogu cried urgently, his little ears perking up.
Din drew his blaster with a shaking hand, aiming it towards the door, only to relax a moment later as Boba ran into the throne room. "Boba." He said, letting out a relieved breath.
"Din!" Boba ran over to his side, Fennec hot on his heels. "What - are you all right?"
"Yeah." Din grunted, shifting Grogu in his arms. "Fine."
"Ahh." Grogu protested, looking up at Boba with large eyes.
"You don't look fine." Boba insisted, taking off his helmet and clipping it to his belt. He frowned, taking in Din's disheveled appearance. "Were you - did they stab you?"
Din waved a hand dismissively, setting Grogu down on the ground as the kid started to fuss. "Only a little. I'll be fine. I thought you had a meeting?"
"Got canceled." Boba replied, his hands hovering over the wound in Din's side as he examined the area. "What happened?"
Fennec peered over Boba's shoulder at the wound in Din's side and whistled. "That doesn't look good, Djarin."
"I'm taking you to the medbay." Boba insisted, wrapping an arm around Din's waist to hold him upright. "Fennec, can you watch the kid?"
She nodded, picking Grogu up and settling him on her hip. "Will do."
"It's really not that bad." Din protested, rolling his eyes behind his helmet as Boba guided him to the lift, his arm strong around Din's waist. "I'll be fine."
"Any other injuries?" Boba asked, ignoring him.
Din shook his head, watching as Boba jabbed at the buttons to the lift, his brow furrowed with concern. He led Din to the medbay, guiding him down the twisting hallways of the palace.
As they entered the medbay, 2-1B made a sound of shocked disapproval. "Master Djarin! What have you done to yourself?"
"It's nothing." Din grunted, reluctantly letting Boba pull him over to the cot in the corner of the room. "Just a run in with some local sleemos."
"You have been stabbed!" 2-1B protested, approaching him with an armful of bandages and bacta patches. "You require immediate medical assistance."
Din sighed, flopping back on bed to let the droid look him over. "It's really not as bad as it looks." He insisted.
"It looks pretty karking bad." Boba muttered, rolling his eyes. He stepped back to let the droid examine Din, frowning.
"I'm fine." Din grumbled, wincing as 2-1B prodded the area and disinfected the wound.
"The blade missed a crucial artery by mere inches. You were very lucky you weren't killed." 2-1B said testily, applying bacta to the gash in Din's side. "I am placing you on immediate bed rest."
Din groaned. "That's not necessary, really. I've had worse."
"You were stabbed, Din." Boba insisted, looking extremely alarmed.
"Hazard of the job." Din shrugged as best as he could while lying on the cot. "I'm - I'm a Mandalorian." He felt a twinge of guilt as he said it, the armorer's disappointment ringing in his mind, but he ignored it determinedly. I am Mandalorian. He thought. I am.
Boba opened his mouth, as if to say something, then closed it again, frowning. "I - Din." He said finally, sounding frustrated and bewildered.
"What?" Din asked, irritated now. "That's - that's how it is, when you're a hunter. You - I - hunt for the tribe. You can't - there's no time, for - for all this. The job comes first."
"What job?" Boba asked, raising his voice. "I don't - you're hurt."
"It happens." Din snapped, his own temper flaring. He tried to sit up, only to be pushed back by 2-1B as the droid began to bandage the wound. "If I rushed off to patch up every minor wound, I'd never make it as a hunter!"
"This isn't a minor wound, Din!" Boba retorted, curling his hands into fists. "You - you could've died."
"I'm fine. I'll be fine." Din insisted crossly. "I don't need you to coddle me."
"Fine." Boba snapped, his jaw working angrily. "I'll leave you to bleed out here then, shall I?"
"Go ahead." Din said, gritting his teeth.
Boba looked down at him, his expression stormy, before turning and stalking out of the room, his posture stiff and angry.
The room was silent for a long moment, the only sound the soft squeaking of 2-1B's limbs as it secured the bandage around Din's stomach.
He sighed, reaching up to take off his helmet, releasing the seals with a soft hiss. His entire body ached, his head throbbing. The anger, so strong a moment ago, faded, a weary sort of guilt rushing in to take its place.
"Well, that went well." He said aloud, staring blankly up at the ceiling.
"I must strongly disagree, Master Djarin." 2-1B said huffily. "That was hardly civil."
"No." Din muttered. "No, it wasn't."
