#din!

WATCHING EPISODE FIVE RIGHT NOW AND DIN WALKS ON SCREEN?! HOLY FUCK MAN?! THAT'S THE LOVE OF MY LIFE RIGHT THERE!

It’s been a hard adjustment, to say the least.

Recently, you found the place where the child used to live, only to discover that his people were gone. You don’t know how or why, but you can see that the little village is in ruin—and you and Din agreed that the place was likely torn apart due to the search for the baby. You now have to take the baby in as one of your own permanently, which you of course don’t mind—but feel a hurt in your heart on behalf of the baby never getting to know his true people and family.

Din hasn’t been the same ever since. You assume it’s because of his stress to find somewhere to settle down, now, trying to make sure you both stay safe—regardless of the fact the threat to the child has been eliminated—as he selects a place where you can find a permanent home and let your family thrive. Din’s been quiet, even more so than usual, and his eyes lack a fraction of their usual light. It breaks your heart, and even though you’d like to know exactly what’s going on with your riduur, you don’t want to push him to a breaking point. He holds you tight enough at night to assure you that it’s not your fault, whatever it is.

For now, you’re still residing in the Crest, gathering materials that you can use for your future home whenever Din finds the perfect place. You’re confident he will—though he insists he won’t leave you out of the decision. These are the times when he’s the most active, as if he’s throwing himself into this search as a distraction. It worries you, but at the same time, it makes you wonder if that’s truly the reason why he’s been acting differently.

One night, you wake up to the sound of faint whimpers coming from the hull, where the baby’s sleeping. You frown, not even looking to Din’s side of the bed as you slyly crawl out and make your way down. When you get there, you prepare yourself to ease the baby back to sleep, knowing he’s probably suffering after facing the loss of his family.

But then, you find him swaddled and perfectly asleep in the arms of Din, who kneels on the floor of the hull and swallows down a strangled cry. The glow of the lights coming from various parts of the ship reveals that his cheeks are stained by tears. It was Din you heard—and your heart just about shatters inside your chest.

“Ni ceta, ner ad’ika,” Din mumbles in a heartbreakingly broken voice as a trembling hand brushes over the sleeping baby’s forehead. I’m sorry, little one. “Ni ceta. I don’t know why the galaxy has done this to both of us, but—,” Din pauses, whimpering again as he stumbles on his words, “—at least we have each other, right?” 

The sobs Din’s welling up in his throat are practically audible, and you find yourself fighting tears as you watch the scene. Your shoulder rests against the ladder as a hand covers your mouth, and instantly you realize what’s been bothering Din: he’s had to watch his own son go through the same exact thing he did.

“I will always be your buir, verd’ika,” Din goes on, his voice hauntingly hushed yet emotional as he speaks. “I’ll never leave you. Ori'haat. We will never leave you, ner kar’ta.”

Your heart just about plummets into your stomach as you watch the scene. It all pieces together: Din’s silence, his struggle, his lack of light—he’s been grieving for the child. He’s reliving his own experience and can’t stand the fact his adopted son is going through the same thing. Even if the baby doesn’t truly understand what’s happening, Din does, and his wound is still raw even after all these years.

Din stifles a cry and keeps letting the words spill from his lips. “I love you like my own, ad’ika. I always will. I… I will do everything it takes to be here for you. To give you the life you deserve.”

You can tell Din’s reaching his breaking point now, so you finally decide to step in. You swallow down your own emotions to stay strong for Din, watching as he looks up at you with eyes so full of pure grief and sadness that you nearly fall to your knees in despair. You ease the child out of his arms and rest him back in his pram, and as soon as you turn and kneel down to face Din, he wraps his arm tight around you and buries his face in your middle, sobbing into the material of your tunic.

“Shhh,” you coo softly, brushing one hand soothingly through his hair as the other supports his back. “I know, Din. It’s all right. He’s all right. I’m here, ner kar’ta.”

It doesn’t take long for Din to calm down—he’s never liked to cry, anyway, as much as you’ve encouraged him to. You never stop your comforting movements, though, wanting to make sure he’s all right as he comes down from his emotional high. When he looks back up at you, he rests his chin upon your middle, his dark eyes still full of grief as he looks at you. “He didn’t deserve to lose his family,” Din whispers, his voice still a whimper in his sadness. “He didn’t deserve to go through what I did.”

“He didn’t lose his family,” you assure Din, your voice soft as you ruffle your hand over his hair. “We’re the only family he’s ever known, Din. And he’s never going to lose us.” Din blinks a few times at that, and you watch the realization appear in his eyes at your truth. Still, you go on. “I’m so sorry you had to lose your family, Din.”

Din’s brow furrows slightly at that. “It’s all right.” His words are a haunted whisper, slowly getting stronger but still making your chest ache. “There’s no shame in being a foundling. I just…” Din pauses and takes a shaky breath, looking back to the pram for a moment before he turns back to you, “... I just don’t want to see him in pain.”

You keep running your hand over his head. “I know. But, pain is a part of life, Din. It’s hard to watch the ones we love suffer through it, but we get to be here to support them and love them no matter what. I’m sure our son is going to understand that.”

Din nods once. “You’re right.” The wrinkle in his brow begins to lessen as he repeats part of your words. “Our son.”

You smile at him and nod. “Yes, Din. Our son.” You remain in silence for a moment, observing his gaze as it begins to change slightly in front of you. You can’t identify what it is, so you decide to question him yourself, yearning to know how you can make him feel completely at ease. “Do you need anything, Din?”

Din shakes his head slowly, smiling in a bittersweet manner as he squeezes his arms a little tighter around you. “I have everything I could ever need right here, cyare.” He presses a kiss to your middle. “Ner aliit.” My family.

You keep smiling down at him, reaching for the sides of his face to pull it to yours in a brief yet sweet kiss. When you pull away, you add one on his nose, something you know will never fail to make him smile. “But you also need sleep, riduur.” Din chuckles softly at that. “Come. We can talk more about this in the morning.”

Din doesn’t hesitate to take your hand as you both stand up, and he holds tight to it the rest of the night as you ease him back into the state of love he’s yearned so long to experience—and yearns for his son to feel, too.