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They return victorious. The child holding the head of the monster high. Frantically telling them the story, of finding and slaying it and bring its head back. Wordlessly, the leader hands him a Black Mellon. They celebrate, cooking the head of the beast and eating it, although the festivities don’t run very long into the night.
After the leader of the tribe hands him that Black Mellon, he’s not so excluded from them; being allowed to sleep with them, now, and not being exposed to Tattoines extreme temperature fluctuations. He’s curled in one of the tents with the kids, under a tanned Bantha hide that the warrior in black had dropped at his feet.
And he actually manages to sleep. His back to the thick tent wall, watching the door. Laying on another mat of hide. He’s warm during the night, for the first time in days. And slowly but surely; his eyes slip shut now, only his ears listing around him. The only sound in the tent now is the rustling of the children, and the hissing of their filters, cleaning sand out of the air they breathe as they get comfortable under their own crude blankets. Even this fades away after a time; to the heavy darkness of sleep. His mind empty, no nightmares of his own plague him tonight, and it is not the empty kind of sleep gained by being knocked unconscious either.
It’s a long time afterwards, when he is awoken gently. A small gloved hand pulling the hide away slowly. He blinks tiredly, and confusedly. The kid who had been watching him and the rodian is now kneeling next to him. It takes a moment for him to realized that there’s a slight sobbing sound coming from the kid, so he shifts; propping himself up with his elbow.
“It’s ok kid, come here. I… know how it feels.” The quiet words are followed by him gently pulling the kid to him. Tucking their head under his chin, ignoring the dull spikes digging into his neck.
The kid fights only slightly, shifting to get comfortable, laying against his chest as he lowers himself back down to the ground. Cradling them to his side, running a hand across the back of their head, over layers of cloth.
“It’s alright kid. Go back to sleep, I will keep you safe.” He knows the kid probably can’t understand him, but he still tries to comfort them anyway, breathing slowly and evenly.
He swears then and there. If anyone wanted to hurt this kid, they would have to go through him first. This kid. Stupid as they were, tired to help and he knew just how dangerous that could be.
But for now, he just wraps an arm around them, pinning them to his chest, and cradles their head with the other, as it’s tucked under his chin. A solid barrier to keep the nightmares at bay. He will keep them safe through the night so they can sleep, and maybe even then, he too could rest easier.
Because the kid deserves dreams of oceans and waves. Not of endless sands, and the sounds of endless blaster fire. And so, he rests. With the kid shielded against his chest, he would give this kid the world if they only asked for it.