𝐒𝐄𝐂𝐔𝐑𝐈𝐓𝐘 - DIN DJARIN

Chapter 15: The Scar

chapter 15: the scar ∙∙∙

Your fingertips trace over the long scar that now runs across your face as you look into the shard of broken glass. Din's words from before keep ringing in your head, trying to remind you that it hasn't changed anything, that your mother would be proud of it, that you're still beautiful—and Maker does the idea of him thinking that hit your very heart—but all you see is the destruction of one of the last things you've been able to take pride in. The Empire had taken everything from you, and now the rest of the galaxy is doing the same.

Everyone but Din.

Almost as soon as you think of him, you hear his modulated voice against your eardrums. "Cyar'ika, please," he says softly, and you look over to see him sitting beside you on the cot and taking the glass from your hand. "Don't do this to yourself."

Your shoulders fall in shame as you've been caught in the act. "I know, I'm sorry—."

"Don't apologize," Din assures you, grabbing one of your hands and entwining his gloved fingers with yours. "You have every right to be upset." He lets out a soft breath, his thumb running over the back of your hand. The gesture sends a pleasant shiver through you. "I just wish you could see yourself the way I do. You're... beautiful."

Your heart softens at his words, and you find yourself closing your eyes as you rest your head against his pauldron. I wish I could see you, your mind thinks, but you know better than to say it out loud; you would never want to pressure him into breaking his Creed. Din stalls for a moment, lifting your head briefly with his hand as he reaches to take the pauldron off. He then invites you to put your head back down, where it now meets the comfort of his softer clothing. "Maybe if you say it more, I'll start to believe you."

You envision Din smiling underneath the helmet, and the cool metal soon meets the side of your head. "I'll say it as many times as you need me to, cyar'ika."

You bite back a smile, nuzzling your face into his shoulder. "Can you say it again?"

Din lifts his helmet from your head and drops your hand, taking your face between his gloved hands and softly touching his forehead against yours. For a moment, you swear you can see the outline of the eyes behind his visor, but you believe your mind's just fooling you. "Gar mesh'la."

You furrow your brow at him. "Is that what it is in Mando'a? I thought you didn't know much."

Din keeps his head against yours, running his thumbs over your cheeks. "I've... been learning. When I can't sleep." He takes one hand off your face and looks away for a moment, soon pulling a small book off his belt. He shows it to you, and you nearly melt when you realize it's a book all about how to speak Mando'a. "I remember you saying it was beautiful the first time you heard it. And, your eyes—lit up." Din's stumbling a bit on his words, and you know it's simply because he's still trying to get used to being so vulnerable and affectionate. The effort makes a smile grow on your lips. "I thought you were the beautiful one then, but I didn't think to say anything, and then I wanted to learn it in Mando'a, so the next time we stopped at a market—I found this." The rest of his story's rushed out, as if he's been afraid to say each word.

You take the book delicately into your hand, bringing his head back to yours immediately after. "Din Djarin, you're one of the most thoughtful people I've ever known."

You hear his modulated breath hitch, as if the words have struck him directly in the heart. His body freezes, but he continues to speak. "Anything for you. It's what you deserve after all you've given up for me. And the kid." He sighs, still keeping his helmet against your head. "I just wish I could do more."