DISTANT STARS ○ Din Djarin

The Longest Night

Warning: 

Quicks heads up that there is a brief and vague reference to some highly unhealthy past relationships in this chapter

•••

7 ABY, Kreios 

 Din was starting to regret landing the Crest so far away from the village as he trudged through mid-calf deep snow. It wasn't even as if he'd landed the ship a great ways away from the village, it was a fifteen minute walk from Cato's house and was probably far closer than many of the villagers wanted. But the heavy snows that came to this part of Kreios during the winter built up quickly, making every step laboured and Din was already worn out from the last hunt.

He had come straight from Nevarro, dropping off the most recent round of quarries with Karga and stopping by the Covert briefly to give a cut of the earnings to te Goran. He had thought briefly about trying to find Cid and asking after her for Cato, but Re'va had tipped him off that Paz was planning on challenging him to a match the next time they saw each other and Din was really not in the mood so he made his exit rather quickly.

Back in the Crest, he had stared at the newest collection of pucks, a familiar hollow feeling gnawing at the inside of his chest. He was tired, the last hunt had been a bit of a rough one, the climate of the planet and the combat that had ensued both harsh. And it had been a while since he'd seen Cato—fifty three standard days, not that he was counting.

He could spare a day. It was probably about time that he go check up on Cato anyways; make sure everything was still okay, that no new trouble had turned up. And it wasn't like he woke up every morning with an ache in his chest and a lingering loneliness that hung around him like a shroud. It wasn't like he felt that the only time he rested truly well and peacefully was when he was in Cato's bed with the man's presence wrapped around him like the warm blankets. Or that Din's heart stuttered whenever he saw Cato and his first thought was: I don't ever want to leave. Or that there was a tightness in his chest whenever he walked into Cato's bedroom and saw the folded blanket on the floor by his side of the bed meant to store and protect his armour while he rested.

Yeah, Din thought dryly to himself as he trudged through the trees towards the village. Definitely here just to make sure everything is okay.

Up ahead through the snow weighted boughs of the evergreens, Din could make out the rough shapes of the small houses, their shapes more organic looking as the snow piled up in drifts around them. He could make out the flicker of lights in the windows and the greyish wisps of smoke rising from chimneys.

As he drew even closer, he began to hear indistinct chatter and laughter as well as faint music. He frowned slightly and plodded on.

The children spotted him first. They always did.

This time, it was a young girl of perhaps eight with frizzy black curls sticking out from under her red knitted cap. When she saw him, she gasped audibly and threw her hands up gleefully. "You're back!" she exclaimed, which drew the attention of the other children and Din was suddenly swamped in a sea of kids.

He stumbled back a half step as they all crowded around him, asking a barrage of questions that he didn't catch a lick of. Despite the overwhelming questions and rather claustrophobic presence of the children, Din couldn't help the small smile that found its way onto his face.

"Is Cato here?" he asked, placing a hand on two of the children's heads in a silent request to let him continue walking.

"Yeah!" one of the kids exclaimed enthusiastically. "He's helping Leike at the bevuur," the little boy said, pointing towards the village and the central space that acted as a gathering place.