Chapter Text
The crying was ceaseless. Din was in over his head. He knew it all too well. He had been around the foundlings, the few children born into the tribe, but he had never had a hand in their raising. That had been for others to do. His place was to provide. But credits were no good to a wailing child, and he'd never learned how to offer comfort.
No going back on it now. What was done was done, and he couldn't return to the covert for help. Not with so many Imps on his trail, and the entire guild to boot.
So he was on his own.
Right.
Deep breath.
What did he know about the situation? Kid had only one outfit. Not very protective. It had been on hot planets before. This one was... cold. Had the kid ever dealt with cold before? He frowned. Looked at the wailing child again. Its ears. Shaking.
"Right. Okay. Something to cover your head, right?"
Kriff. Fatherhood was as alien to him as this child. He dug through storage crates until he found a blanket. Old. Worn. It would have to do. "Okay here you go."
Din tried to wrap the blanket around the child's head. It screamed louder. And flung the blanket away.
Dank farrik.
Another deep breath. "Okay. Okay. Don't want your ears covered." Was cold even the problem? A moment of hesitation, then one glove came off.
Yeah. The kid's ears were definitely freezing.
He lifted the screaming child into the metal pram. Not much protection from the chill, really, but it got the kid off the floor. "Alright... I'm gonna put this blanket over top. Don't throw it again. You understand me?"
"Eh?"
"Don't. Throw. The blanket."
Did babies even understand that much language? Even if those babies were fifty years old? He had no kriffing clue. But the blanket stayed where it was.
Unfortunately, so did the volume of the crying.
"Look I don't have anything warmer. I can't use the ship's heat until we're ready to take off, we have to save fuel." He couldn't hear a damn thing over the noise, and no solution presented itself out of thin air. "Hey can you stop that for a minute and let me think?"
Shit. Now the crying was louder.
"Listen, I don't know what you need!" As if yelling was going to help.
Failure.
He was a failure.
Maybe if he just shut the pram for a few minutes and got something warm to drink he'd calm—
Something warm.
To drink.
Or to eat. Kids needed to eat a lot, right?
He scrambled back to the storage containers, uncharacteristically clumsy in his haste. "Hang on kid. Hang on I'll get you something."
Moments later an improvised soup was simmering over the burner. It wasn't much. Nothing but dried ingredients thrown together, but it was something. And as the smell filled the ship the kid's sobs slowed and quieted.
When he opened the pram again the child's eyes had gone from pained to interested, little nose sniffing hard and hands reaching for the bowl. "Hey come on, you gotta let me cool it down a little first. You'll burn your mouth." A noise of complaint rose in answer, but it was better than the crying. Tiny claws waved around in the direction of the spoon, and Din handed it over. "Think you can handle it?"
The answering slurp was enough. With a sigh of relief, Din saw to his own bowl.
"Okay. We've got enough to make soup until we take off. Should only be here a few days, think you can handle the cold until then?"
Slurp.
He took that as a yes.