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samspenandsword · 1 year

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The Fields of Sorgan: Din Djarin/Reader (Fem)

Summary: When Mando takes the job on Sorgan, he runs into the reality that he’s never had to take care of a baby before. Let alone a non-human baby. Luckily, the woman housing him is more than happy to help. Pairing: Din Djarin/Reader; fem!reader with no mentions of her appearance. Rating: GEN — SFW Warnings: None — allusions to violence, small amount of language, domestic bliss, fluff, ridiculous amount of baby and child antics, topics relating to being/becoming parents (NO PREGNANCY) some angst towards the end. Word Count: 4.3k

When you and your sister-in-law Omera volunteered to house the ones who promised to help repel the attachs and raids on your village, you hadn't quite been expecting who actually came. One was a woman, tall and obviously strong with dark hair. She left quickly with Omera, Winta and her million questions bounding along right behind. But the other, the one who followed behind you with steps quieter than his armor seemingly should've allowed, was the Mandalorian. You'd never met a Mandalorian before, though you'd certainly heard of them. Even on Sorgan, you'd been told stories of the greatest warriors in the galaxy.

Mando was quiet as he followed you, weaving around the pools and paddies of krill your village farmed to brew spotchka. You lived around the outskirts of the village, closer to the treeline than anyone else. You had your small hut, and your barn, equally small. You hoped it would be enough for the warrior, but something told you he had slept in worse conditions than a small barn.

He himself was quiet, which you imagined helped him sell the whole brooding-warrior-in-beskar image he wholly embodied, but as you came back into the barn, carrying a pile of hand-stitched and woven cushions and blankets, he thanked you.

"I appreciate it."

He had a soft voice, with a mild gruffness behind the modulator. You couldn't tell if the gruffness was natural or if it was simply a result of him not talking much.

"It's no trouble, really. I appreciate everything you're doing for us. I know we weren't able to pay what a man like you would usually make."

His weight shifted a little, caught out, but you didn't allow him to feel awkward for long, disappearing once more. When you returned, only a moment later, you set down a bassinet not far from Mando's makeshift cot.

Mando's baby, or foundling, you supposed, was cute. In an ugly sort of way. You'd never seen a lifeform like him before. He was little, green, and wrinkly, with wispy hair on his head. His ears were the size of his entire body, his eyes huge and curious, and he wore clothing that could've doubled as a sack for potatoes.

You couldn't help but smile at him. "Hi, little one." At your voice, the baby cooed, raising his arms up in a clear request to be held. After a subtle nod from Mando, you obliged the baby.

"Ooh, you are a cutie, aren't you? You're going to be spoiled rotten. Are you hungry, baby? I bet you're hungry. Let me get some food for Mando and then I'll get some bone broth for you."

You soon learned that the baby was a bottomless pit when it came to food. He truly would eat all day if you and Mando let him. Thankfully, he was occupied most days by the village children, who were absolutely delighted to have the child as a playmate. He spent the days both before and after the attack running around the paddies with the other children. And came back with his insatiable appetite. You might be annoyed by it if he wasn't so damn cute.

And if you didn't have such a soft spot for his father.

You'd only referred to Mando as the child's father once, and you had seen the way he shifted. He obviously wasn't sure what to make of the term, so you'd never used it again. Eventually, in the days following the successful defense of your village, he told you how the child came to him: the bounty, the Imperial remnant, the rescue, the Guild coming after him, the Covert coming to his rescue. You weren't sure exactly why Mando was telling you everything, but you had the feeling he simply needed someone to vent to. He'd obviously never had that before, and you were happy to listen. A lot had changed for him in a simple matter of days, and he had no idea where his future would lead. But all the same, he had still helped you and your village, so you were happy to give him whatever he needed. Food, shelter, cover fire, an ear.

Childcare lessons.

It had been fairly obvious from the start that Mando had no idea how to take care of an infant, even if that baby was 50 years old. And even for you, who had helped to raise your younger siblings, there was a bit of a learning curve. The child wasn't human after all, so neither of you had been sure what was and wasn't safe for him to eat, or what would provide the best nutrients for him, and Sorgan didn't have the resources for either of you to go researching. Mando told you, with a dry sort of humor in his voice, that the child seemed happy eating everything from bone broth to live frogs. You'd grimaced.

"Let's hold off on the live frogs for now," you said. "I'm not sure all those bones are good for his digestion."

The baby was miffed every time the both of you scooped him up when he went after the frogs hopping around the paddies. But you both held firm.

But he definitely loved bath time.

He loved the splash Mando, and to blow bubbles under the water, smiling and giggling all the way. He loved when you made little swirlies in the water, and seemed genuinely upset when bath time was over. At least, until you wrapped him in a blanket warmed by the fire and let him snuggle with you.

He was a cuddler, that was for sure. Even with Mando, who was constantly covered with his beskar. The baby didn't seem to care. He simply liked being in the arms of others.

Especially you and Mando. Though he loved toddling after Winta and the other kids as well.

He was a good sleeper, too. Sometimes, he could be fussy when he was put down, but he usually fell asleep and stayed asleep.

Though there were definitely harder nights. Nights where he woke up, wailing and crying.

The first night it had happened, it had taken you a moment to realize what was happening, unused to the sound of a baby crying in your home anymore. It was a few days after the attack, and the town had been sleeping soundly for the first time in what felt like months. But as the baby continued to cry, you stood up and padded out to the barn.

Mando was kneeling at the baby's bassinet, awkwardly, shushing him like he was a too-loud droid and not a baby. Feeling a little amused, you knocked on the door slightly, announcing your presence.

The slump of Mando's shoulders either meant that he was relieved to see you, or that he was guilty the baby had woken you up.

Maybe both, but you didn't mind.

"Hi, baby," you cooed gently, padding towards the bassinet. You kept your voice soothing, gentle, warm. The baby had fat tears rolling out of his big eyes, and though you weren't sure what was wrong, you knew the baby needed to be held right now.

You just didn't think it was you he wanted to be held by at the moment.

"Go ahead, Mando. Pick him up."

He hesitated slightly, but stood and gingerly lifted the child from the bassinet. You huffed with amusement. He was holding the baby so awkwardly, like a bomb about to go off.

"Closer," you instructed, gently guiding the baby into the Mandalorian's chest, which you realized was beskar-free. For perhaps the first time since you'd met him. "Hold him closer."

You kept your hand on the baby's little back, soothingly rubbing it as he released a little hiccup and continued to cry.

"Rub his back," you said, taking Mando's hand and pressing it to where yours had just been. You kept your hand over his. It was the first time you'd seen him without gloves as well, and his skin was warm against yours. You tried not to dwell on that. "Like this. It grounds him."

Mando slowly rubbed the child's back, a little awkwardly still, but you could tell he was trying.

"Rock gently," you continued. "Just a gentle shift of your weight, side to side, with the barest bounce. Yeah, just like that."

Mando slowly rocked the baby, your hand still covering his own. Your hand had come to smooth over the child's wispy hair. Mando eased closer so you could continue more easily. You felt his proximity more keenly than you cared to admit.

You swallowed.

"Talk to him," you said next.

"About what?" Mando asked, sounding a little confused.

"Anything. Everything. Just let him hear your voice."

Slowly, and maybe a little unsurely, Mando began to talk. He was clearly unused to making idle chat, and you smiled amusedly as he began to list the specs of his ship. A Razor Crest, he said. How it was pre-Empire. The engine speed and capabilities. The weapons systems. Both spec and modified. How he'd built a chamber into the ship so he could freeze his bounties in carbonite.

Slowly, but surely, the baby began to calm down, his cries quieting to sniffles and hiccoughs, and eventually fully ceasing, his little face smushed into Mando's chest as he slept once more. Mando fell silent again too, slowly, and a little tensely, replacing the child into his bassinet. You gently tucked him in, and the baby continued to sleep soundly.

You gave Mando's arm a gentle squeeze. He didn't tense or jump at the contact for once. You tried to chalk it up to him being tired.

"Why was he like that?"

You chewed on your cheek a little, wondering how to answer.

"Children get scared, Mando. What happened a few days ago was scary. And he may not have seen everything, but children pick up on their surroundings more than you'd think. We were tense and scared, so he was too. He could've had a nightmare."

Mando was still, like he'd never considered the possibility. You squeezed his arm once more.

"I got him next time. We can take turns."

And with that, you both went back to bed.

But the next morning, things were undeniably a little different between the two of you. It became less of Mando taking care of the child while you gave tips. More of you both taking care of the baby. You ended up sewing up a quick sling for the baby so he could be with you when you woke early and made breakfast, letting Mando sleep in a little further. Or when you did laundry and mended clothes from the village. There had been one day where the baby had been particularly insistent on staying close to Mando, and it had been more than a little funny to see the baby, smiling and swinging his little arms from the sling around Mando's beskar-covered chest.

The memory of Mando's sigh still made you giggle.

You also remembered when you'd taken the baby with you as you ventured out for a hunt. As one of the only people in the village other than Omera who was proficient with firearms (your brother, her husband, had taught you both), you often brought meat and foraged plants back to the village. The baby had been strangely thrilled when you'd brought down a particularly large grinjer.

You'd chuckled at him, dropping a kiss to his little head. Traveling with a Mandalorian was going to do weird things to the child's sense of humor.

The days came and went in relative normality. And somehow, the warrior-in-beskar and his little foundling simply became part of the village. As did the former shock trooper, who you found a bit intimidating, but good-humored. Winta seemed to really like her, and Omera seemed happier and more at ease than you'd seen her in a long time. And the longer the village went with peaceful, raid-free nights, the more it seemed to settle. Children laughed and played more, the work in the paddies no longer seemed so draining, and the village simply began to feel like home again.

But a stone grew in your gut with each passing day. Because you were beginning to wake with the fear that each day would be the last you got to spend with the Mandalorian and child.

And that day soon came.

It was a nice day. The sun was shining and the sky was blue with lots of fat, fluffy clouds. It was perfectly warm with the more pleasant breeze wafting over the grass fields around your village, just before the thick trees of the forest.

You'd packed some lunch for the kid, trying (and failing) to keep him from slurping it all up in five minutes flat before he toddled off to chase some dragonflies.

You smiled, shaking your head fondly from where you sat on a well-worn, well-loved blanket. It had become the baby's favorite in the weeks he'd spent with you. He didn't want to go anywhere without it.

You were so, so conscious of the fact that Mando was sitting just beside and slightly behind you. So close you were aware of every breath he took. So close that all you had to do was lean over an inch, and your shoulder would brush against the armor on his chest.

"It's... very nice here."

Your good mood dropped. You'd been fearing, expecting this for days now. But it didn't stop the swell of disappointment in your gut. The words made you feel chilled, as if the warm midday sun had simply decided not to touch you. The fond smile that had graced your face was no longer there, replaced with something grave.

"It is."

Your voice was level. More level than Mando had ever heard it. He winced beneath his helmet. You knew where this was going, and it made you upset.

He had made you upset.

It hurt him more than he wanted to acknowledge.

"He's very happy here."

Mando's helmet tilted in the direction of the child, who paid the two of you no mind as he chased dragonflies and butterflies over the grass in your peripheral.

"He is."

There was a pregnant pause, and Mando realized you were going to force him to say what he meant. What he was thinking. What he was feeling.

You were good at that, in a way no one else he'd met was. He both loved and hated it.

"We raised some hell here a few weeks back. It's too much action for a village like yours. Word travels fast." There was a pause, as Mando swallowed and forced himself to continue, unable to meet your heavy, upset, knowing gaze. Even from behind the sanctuary of his helmet. "There are kids here. And everyone's finally happy again. I can't stay knowing it could bring more attention to your home. More danger. It's time to cycle the charts and move on."

Your throat began to tighten, and it took physical effort for you to keep your voice level when you responded. And when you did, it was still in barely more than a whisper.

"When do you want to tell him?"

The two of you looked over towards the baby, playing happily in the grass. The sight of his little mud-stained outfit, and the idea that you might not get to cuddle and hold and feed him again made your eyes sting too.

"I'm leaving him here."

You whipped your head back around, mouth falling open with shock.

"What?"

"He's happy here." Mando's voice, gruff as it usually was, contained a softness to it you'd never heard before. He almost sounded... sad.

"Mando, no -"

"I can't take him." The softness left Mando's voice, replaced with a vehemence that made it sound more solid, more organic than his modulator should've allowed. "I'm a bounty hunter, not a caregiver. You showed me that. You can take care of him better than I ever could. I track bounties for days, sometimes weeks at a time. And I'm wanted now. I can't bring him with me and knowingly put him in danger. Knowing I can't provide for him like he needs. The credits your village gave me is barely enough to cover fuel for my ship, let alone food or toys or new clothes like he needs. I —!"

Mando's voice never increased in volume, the two of you still speaking in hushed tones so as not to gain the baby's attention.

"Traveling with me..." Mando's voice was soft again, and this time you were certain of the sadness in his tone, "that's no life for a kid."

Your throat was still tight. Maker, you were upset. But you couldn't deny Mando had some good points. His lifestyle was dangerous even before he went rogue and rescued the child. And now, he would be forced to take jobs with less pay and more danger than before, now that the Guild was looking for him, thirsty for retribution. It wasn't a stable life. Not by any means.

And children needed stability. If not from a lifestyle, then from people. Mando could provide neither.

You could provide both.

But Maker, you were upset!

"It'll break his heart," you whispered. You didn't add that Mando's leaving would break yours too.

"He'll get over it. We all do."

His words made you angry this time.

"Get over what? Losing a parent? Or being abandoned."

Mando actually flinched.

"That's how he sees you, Mando," you said. Now that you'd started, you couldn't stop. "You rescued him. You saved him. You were the first positive figure in his life in who knows how long. You're as good as his parent, Mando. And he needs a parent."

Mando looked at you, gaze piercing into you. "He has a mother."

The words that once might have made your heart feel warm made you, instead, feel cold.

"He needs a father, too."

A tense silence fell between the two of you, broken only by the happy squeals of the child, some feet away. He was now digging in the dirt. Maybe looking for a worm.

Or maybe a frog to eat.

Your anger melted away as you looked back at Mando. You knew this was upsetting him as much as it was you. In the weeks he'd been in your village, you'd seen how much the warrior had grown to care for the baby. The increasing involvement in his daily routine. The way Mando cuddled him closer on bad nights, the way he spoke more, the way he helped you with bath time, even took care of the baby in the mornings to allow you more sleep. You'd seen the way he'd grown to see the child as his charge. Maybe even as his own.

Just like you had.

You scooted towards Mando, sitting as close to him as you possibly could without being in his lap. He didn't shy away from the press of your legs against his, and his gloved hands covered your own as you reached up to grip the cowl around his shoulders.

"I'm not saying this to make you feel worse, Mando. But he's not going to understand that you're doing this for his own good. All he'll know is that you left him. That is what he's going to remember, fifty years from now, when he's grown and talking and has maybe grown out of his habit of eating live frogs."

Mando's shoulders shook in a silent chuckle. A sad chuckle.

"You don't have to do this," you whispered. You clutched the fabric tighter in your fingers. "I know your Creed is important to you, and I would never ask or expect you to abandon it. But... you could stay. The village wants you to stay." You bit your lip, voice lowering until he nearly couldn't hear you. "I want you to stay."

Mando's hands squeezed your own, and ever-so-gently, leaned his helmeted forhead to yours. You exhaled shakily, blinking back the wetness in your eyes. Because even as you'd said it, you knew it simply wasn't possible.

Mando couldn't stay.

"Cyar'ika, I —" But he stopped. Because you'd stiffened. And in a blink, you'd grabbed his pistol and shot into the trees.

Mando whirled around in time to see a dark figure fall to the ground.

"Get the kid! Get back to the village!"

He grabbed his phase-pulse blaster and sprinted towards the trees. You gripped the pistol still in one hand, scooped up the scared child in the other, and ran back to the village.

Omera and the trooper, Cara, met you.

"What happened?" Cara questioned.

"There was a figure in the trees," you panted. You cuddled the baby close. You'd stared at the edges of the forest every day for your entire life. You knew what they looked like. You knew when something was different. "They had a rifle."

Cara darted towards the trees, drawing a blaster of her own.

Omera wrapped an arm around you. "Come on, let's get inside."

Mando didn't return until nearly an hour later. There was a cup of tea clutched in your hands. You'd settled the baby down for a nap. And though he'd fussed and refused, your rocking and singing had eventually lulled him into slumber. Mando stopped in the doorway before slowly approaching. Something about his posture made you feel dread.

"Bounty hunter?"

"Yes."

"Was he tracking you?"

There was a pause. "No."

Your eyes closed. "The kid?"

Mando didn't need to answer. He sat down beside you, shoulders tight with tension.

"They'll keep coming for him, won't they?" you said.

"Yes. They knew he's here."

You swallowed hard. You could not imagine what had led to someone putting a bounty out on a child.

You took a deep, shuddering breath. "I'll get his stuff."

But when you went to stand, a gloved hand stopped you.

Mando didn't say anything for a few minutes, but it was clear there was something on his mind. So you waited, squeezing the hand that held yours.

"Come with me."

The words came so suddenly and so quietly you were sure you'd imagined them. But you blinked, looking into his visor, and saw the sheepish, almost hesitant set of his shoulders.

"What?"

"Come with me." Mando stepped closer, gripping your hand more surely. "The kid can't stay here. And neither can I. The bounty hunters will keep coming. They won't stop. The pay-out for him alone, let alone both is too high. But... you were right." He squeezed your hand again. "We were both right. He needs stability. He needs a caregiver. A parent. Someone who can watch him when a bounty is too dangerous to bring him. Someone who can take care of him and my ship when a bounty takes me away for days at a time. Someone who can provide a more consistent, stable presence than me."

You were sure you looked a picture right now. You had never left your planet before. Barely ever left your village. The life of a farmer was one you had been born into, and while you had entertained the fantasy of something different in your youth, you had been forced to accept that your place was on Sorgan, in your quiet little village where everyone grew and married and farmed krill.

"I don't know anything about taking care of a ship."

"I'll teach you."

"I can't fight."

"You can shoot. You took that bounty hunter down in one shot from several meters away. And you're strong. Farming has made you strong. With some training from me, you'd be able to hold your own. You'd be able to protect yourself, and him if it came to it. And it'll come to it."

There it was, the admission that if you accepted, your life would become far more dangerous than you were used to. The recent raids on your village had been the most danger you'd ever experienced before. But for Mando, it had been just another day. And part of you still couldn't believe what you were hearing. Go with Mando? Leave Sorgan? For real?

But the young spirit in you who'd never gotten to stretch their wings or see the stars beyond Sorgan was roaring at you to accept. No matter how reckless or irresponsible it may be. You knew it'd be difficult. You knew the learning curve would be a steep one. You knew there'd likely be days where you wanted to get angry and yell and cry. Days where Mando wanted to storm off and grumble and get frustrated at having to suddenly share his space with two more people, one of them a child. You knew there'd be hard days, and maybe, maybe in the end you'd grow to regret it. Decide to leave and barter passage back to Sorgan on cargo ships and merchant vessels that came to Sorgan to pick up spotchka.

But then, Mando's words from earlier rang in your ears.

"He needs a mother."

The baby sleeping in your barn was the closest you'd ever come to having a child of your own. To being a mother. And even though it had only been a few weeks, the stinker had thoroughly worked his way into your heart. You literally couldn't imagine your life without him anymore. And you looked at the beskar-covered Mandalorian in front of you. The figure who'd come into your wet little village, armed to the teeth, and saved you all. The man who'd also wormed his way into your heart without even trying. The closest you'd come to truly falling in love.

And you knew you wouldn't regret it.

"Give me thirty minutes to pack?"

Mando touched his forehead to yours once more, squeezing your hand in his. The tense set of his shoulders relaxed into something far happier.

"You have twenty."

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