Aldor's Eye - Part I

Chapter VI - The Trial

Din didn't know what to do with himself anymore.

Something happened to him when he saw her covered in blood. Then something else happened when he touched her. The two had come in such quick succession after the conversation over the table that night, he didn't get a chance to consider what any of these circumstances might do to him. What they'd done. He still hadn't recovered from the cataclysm. Every time he remembered that empty look in her eyes, his heart broke apart all over again to think for one second she could be anything but zillo hide and silk. Fierce and beautiful. He'd never let anything take that from her. Ever.

He'd shamefully underestimated the horrors of her past, and had done nothing but add to her burdens. So selfish of him. He resolved to make it up to her. It had become a mission since he started having dreams of his own. A swarm of savage black dogs. Blood and blue silk. Though his subconscious mind may well have seized on the cursed picture of her bloody in her bunk, Din couldn't dismiss his visions when they continued to replay almost nightly over the next few weeks. It became clear there was something beyond association in these dreams. Something real that he could sense. Try as he might to block it or reason it away, the dreams kept coming back in sharper focus and increased detail. He became convinced that this nightmare might become all too real, and lately struggled to reason with himself at all.

Try as he might to deny it to himself, he knew good and well what had clouded his reason. Since the moment he first felt the softness of her flesh under his hand, he'd become obsessed with it. He'd sealed his own fate when he wrapped himself around her, and felt her heart racing against his. Din Djarin became utterly subject to Aldor of the Eye in that moment, and had remained so ever since. It was probably the least wise thing he'd ever allowed to happen to himself. The last thing he expected. But the fact that he loved her was exactly that. A fact. There was no disputing it anymore.

It had to be some spell cast from that evil voice in her nightmare that Din came to these conclusions in the midst of devastating visions. However desperately his heart begged him to give in to his feelings, the visions seemed to warn him that some disaster would befall her if he did. He didn't know if he should believe it, but she was just too precious to risk. So at last he decided all he could do was act on the notion that loving her was unwise.

Because he had to believe it was unwise to love her, and because he had no idea of how to manage his own heart in its new configuration, he kept an even greater distance. Luckily he had the excuse of the dogs. The season was beginning to turn, and Din had seen more signs of them farther inland. In keeping a closer eye on them, he could serve the dual purpose of keeping his distance while he worked to protect what he loved. The dogs terrified him now, so he was compelled to study every sign of them in painstaking detail to learn all he could about this new enemy that threatened her precious blood. As a result, he would come back to the YT as close to sunset as the cold would allow, and stay sequestered longer over his meals.

The more successful he became at keeping his distance, the more he hated it. He missed her. Missed sitting in on Grogu's lessons. Missed her smile and her voice. Missed watching her tinker or stitch after dinner. When he was away from her, she was all he thought about, and he'd still anticipate even a few minutes alone with her at the table, living for it while he purposefully tried to limit it. While he battled against tightening bonds and frightening visions and his chest rumbled like the ground under his feet, new and heightened sensations continued to rage inside a derelict beskar forge that was on its last legs. Any day now, it could blow fire over everything in his wake. Din worried it would destroy them all if he couldn't contain it.

But there was nothing he could do. The battle between will and wisdom left him exhausted, and it had become too difficult to fight. So he remained her willing subject, and after weeks of avoiding her, he found himself dutifully standing by while she fed tundra grass through a small thresher she'd pieced together from parts. She'd just harvested a particular type of grass and now meant to make thread from it to weave into fabric for upcoming projects. He offered his help to carry the heavy bundle of grass to the speeder shed where she kept the thresher, and just stayed there with her because he wanted to. It'd been days since he'd been in her presence for more than a few minutes, and he didn't have the heart left to stay away from her a minute more. Now he leaned back against the speeder bike, listening to her hum while he witnessed her in the throes of creation, incapable of tearing himself away.