𝐒𝐄𝐂𝐔𝐑𝐈𝐓𝐘 - DIN DJARIN

Chapter 44: The Way

chapter 44: the way •••

Din grits his teeth as he shifts his position on the stairs. He's even more careful now than before with his daughter in his arms. She's the most at ease she's been ever since Din returned from his job, his cowl clutched tight in her little fist as her head remains cradled in the crook of his arm. Din grins at the sight despite the fiery pain in his leg. The smile remains when he turns his helmet to see you at his side, your brow knit together in concern as your hands rest upon his arm.

"It's still getting better, cyar'ika," Din assures you, his voice low and soft as he frees a hand from Zora and lifts it to your head. His gloved thumb brushes over your brow to flatten it out. "Promise."

You manage to smile for him again. "I think we've made enough promises lately," you joke. You take his hand from your face and kiss his gloved palm. A familiar warmth explodes in his chest, along with a desire to take off his helmet and be present with you in all the ways he was able to on Sorgan.

But he can't. Lately, he's barely been able to.

Din had hoped the changes in scenery would be beneficial for your family. He was—and still is—willing to do whatever it takes to at least get your family a ship of your own again. Din could withstand any extended period of time where he was unable to remove his helmet when he knew you could go back to the Razor Crest and not have to worry about being seen. But with no ship, those opportunities are fewer and further between. Walking around others without his helmet was a different story on Sorgan, in the middle of nowhere with people he could trust. It's not a habit Din can maintain outside of your sanctuary.

Your credits are too low to afford any private housing while you save up for your ship. Din's wanted to use them anyway, but your stubbornness hasn't allowed it. The places where you manage to get some sleep are filled with other people. It prevents Din from removing his helmet or armor at all. If he's honest with himself, he hasn't gotten that much sleep; he stays up to watch over you and Zora while you rest. But he's used to days without sleep. He's not used to days, even weeks, without feeling your tender touch on his face, or your fingers threading through his hair, or your sweet lips on his own...

"What do you know of this blade?" The Armorer's voice cuts through Din's thoughts of desire. He blinks a few times and turns his helmet to look at her as she observes the luminous blade. He's still getting used to hearing her voice again.

"We're told it is the Darksaber," Din answers. He brings his hand back to Zora. Her eyes have since fallen closed, and by the gentleness of her breaths, Din knows she's asleep. His thumb brushes back-and-forth across her forehead.

"Indeed," the Armorer responds. Your grasp tightens on his arm. He glances over to see your gaze aimed towards Paz, who's since walked back over to Din's side. Din doesn't have time to ask you why. "Do you understand its significance?"

Din waits a beat and shifts his position before he answers. He makes sure he doesn't jostle Zora too much as he does so. "Whoever wields it can lead all of Mandalore."

The Armorer nods. "If it is won by Creed in battle." Din shares a quick look with you. You'd never seen the duel between him and Moff Gideon and he doesn't think upon it with particular fondness. Din remembers the tears that stung his eyes and the painful weight in his chest when he thought he'd lost you. "It is said, one warrior will defeat twenty, and the multitudes will fall before it."

The Armorer pauses and swings the blade in slow motion as she continues to observe it. Din takes a deep breath and holds Zora even closer to him for comfort. He's not keen on having to answer how he was wounded with the blade; he fears the Armorer wouldn't be fond of the way he uses the weapon.