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.

She was determined to stitch some warmer tunics for him despite his insistence that he could easily get by with what he had. But zillo hide had won out over silk, and she was beyond being refused. Now she gauged the texture of the raw fiber that had begun to fall out of the thresher, and input a minor correction into the control board with her delicate little fingers, glancing a tiny smile at him. She had left her robes for the day and was dressed in a pale green tunic and worn black slacks, looking more like a farm girl than a Jedi while she assessed the results of her program correction. She'd lost none of her gentility in the rougher garb. None of her elegance. Even dressed like a farm girl with grass in her hair, she was so beautiful. Graceful and flowing.

He imagined flowing with her. Imagined her rushing through his blood while he moved inside her. Imagined the sounds she'd make and how it would feel to make her cum. How would his name sound from her lips? How would she move with him? What would she do if he dragged his tongue through the heat between her legs? How would she taste?

Din forced his eyes back down to the ground, cursing himself while his imagination stubbornly tortured him with these images. These sensations. He'd never wanted anyone more in his life. He couldn't remember anything to compare it to while he looked at her. All he felt was this bond. This sensation. All Aldor. The essence of her on display in front of him. She flashed another satisfied smile when the thresher spat out a large ball of fiber. It produced a quiet joy in her, as if she couldn't wait to transform it into the thing she saw when she looked at this tangled mass of raw material. She bent to gather it and put it in the large basket she'd brought out with them, and nodded toward the bundle on his other side. "Could you…"

"Of course, my…" He'd almost said it again. The endearment he let slip at least twice that night when he first touched her. Why those two words, he didn't know. He only knew it suited her. Suited his feelings. So much so, he'd struggled not to say it again. He handed her another bundle of grass, having gauged by the initial load how much to pass over to her. She smiled again, nodded in approval, and fed the new bundle into the thresher.

"You seem on edge, my Mandalorian," she commented. "Is something troubling you?"

"N… no…" It was a lie of course. He didn't like to lie to her, but he didn't know how to tell her any of it. She knew it was lie, but said nothing. The nothing was heavy, though, and it sat uncomfortably in his chest. Finally, he murmured vaguely, "Dreams. Just… dreams."

"Dreams don't always have meaning," she said. "It's best not to dwell on them."

"Even if it's the same one… over and over for more than a cycle?" He paused, watching her intently as she gathered more fiber from beneath the thresher, thinking of her dream. "And you've had dreams that meant something…"

"I have," Aldor murmured. "You're right… but… still… to dwell on something that may not be… well… it's…"

"Dangerous."

"Yes, my Love," she said quietly.

They settled back into silence as Aldor continued through the entire bundle of grass. When her basket was heavy with fiber, Din stooped to pick it up before she could, and she smiled gratefully at him as they headed back to the YT in the fading sunset.

While she prepared a quick meal of greens and savory berries from the garden, he sensed her weariness. It had been set in her eyes since he mentioned her nightmare, and Din now hated himself for having brought it up again. Thoughtless. So thoughtless of him.

"No, my Mandalorian," she said quietly, sitting down at the table while the greens simmered on the coals. "You had a point. Some dreams are dangerous. I don't know what to tell you about yours and I won't ask because it's not my place. But I sense you think it's a premonition. Don't trust it. Any vision of the future can be particularly deceiving. Master Yoda told us the future is always in motion, so all you can do is trust that you'll know how to use your visions when the time comes. Don't let it rule your thoughts, my Love. Don't let it drag you under."

"I'm not worried… about me…"

"Sweet Mandalorian," she said with a small smile. "That always goes without saying. But whatever your dreams have shown you, remember Grogu can take care of himself. He's strong."

"What about you, my Lady? I know you're strong. I've told you so. But… tell me you are… so I can hear its truth."

Aldor's brows pitched up in surprise. "I…"

"Please, Aldor. Tell me you're strong. I'll only believe it if you tell me."

"I… I am strong, my Love. But…"

Din sighed in relief, not sure why hearing her speak the words had this effect. "I'm sorry, my Lady. I've never doubted your strength. It's just… I had to hear it… from your lips."

"I hope I'll be able to tell you again. Whatever you need to hear… when you need to hear it."

"You always do, my Lady."

She simply smiled and lay an appreciative touch over his hand where it sat on the table, then she was up and padding back to the hob as Din sat there, still feeling her touch through his glove, until she announced dinner was ready, and he took the plate she offered into the cockpit.

After he ate, Din stayed in the cockpit for a long time, holding his head in his hands to allow his neck a few moments of freedom from the weight of the beskar. The rest of it started to feel heavy too, and he gave in to it because it was inevitable. He stripped himself down to just his tunic and trousers before he ruefully put the helmet on again. Lately, his armor had grown increasingly heavy. More and more, he found himself driven to take it off near the end of every rotation. Sleep had become near impossible when he was fully armored, and now even the helmet was starting to feel like a hindrance in the evenings, when all he wanted was to be close to her. But he kept it on because being close to her was unwise, no matter how desperately his heart begged him to show her everything.

Din found Aldor already putting away her sewing for the night when he stepped back into the kitchen. She was tired. Tired, but always alert enough to care for him. "Do you feel better now, my Mandalorian?" she asked while he washed his dish.

"A bit…" Din answered. "I'm sorry I've been…"

She shook her head. "Don't, my Love. You have nothing to be sorry for." With that, she smiled and nodded to him. "I hope your dreams won't trouble you tonight."

In spite of her blessings, Din's sleep was racked with visions of blue silk and blood. Demonic canines and blaster fire. Her body broken and torn. The cruel demon who wanted him to believe he was weak now tainted his visions with greater clarity. He saw it from above like his eyes were open and they were there, swarming her. He saw her overtaken and ripped to the ground before he could land. Saw the sticky, horrifying sheen of red all over her clothes and face. He listened to her gasping and felt her convulsing when he took her helplessly into his arms. When he begged the Eye and all its magic to heal her, it refused him. Her blood seeped through beskar and fabric to his own skin. All he could do was cradle her limp body to his, begging her to come back while darkness filled him, until he gradually became part of it.

He woke in a blind panic. Sweat and tears flooded his helmet as he sat up stock straight, his breath ragged and labored while he looked down, expecting to see himself covered in Aldor's blood. When all he saw was bare hands and clean fabric, the helmet snapped up to her face. She was peacefully asleep in her bunk, where the first sun's rays had just begun to fall across her cheek through the skylight overhead. He shot up to his feet, and took a step toward her bunk to wake her and hold her and swear he'd never let his dreams become real. He stopped himself, and instead turned to walk straight to the cockpit to retrieve his armor, bent on a thorough reconnoiter of the settlement and the grounds outside the perimeter. He swore he wouldn't let the darkness have her. He'd die before he broke that vow.

He was fully arrayed and just about to put his helmet back on when the door slid slightly open, and Grogu stepped through it. Din was so distracted, he almost missed their morning appointment. Unable to hide his state of mind from his son, he shakily attempted an apology. "Sorry, Kid… I…"

"Worried," Grogu said. "Dreams."

"Yes," he admitted. He slumped to the floor and let his face drop into his hands, drawing a deep breath in an attempt to steady himself for his son's sake.

Grogu hopped into his lap, coaxing Din's hands away from his face so he could lay his own little hands along his father's scruffy cheeks. "Ha-paa-ouu," he said gently. The little nose bump that followed finally curled Din's lips into a small, fragile smile.

"I needed that," he sighed, dropping his forehead to Grogu's, smiling down into the boy's eyes. "You always know when I need it."

"Worried," Grogu repeated.

"Yes," Din answered. "Whatever is going to happen… it's soon… I… I feel it."

"Peace," Grogu suggested. "Will be okay."

The full sentence was enough to bring Din back to reason, and he nodded. "You're probably right, but… help me… keep an eye out."

Aldor was just stirring when Din and Grogu came back from the garden, carrying several frost melons for their breakfast. Din prepared them himself and presented plates to both Grogu and Aldor before he took his own into the cockpit. He ate quickly, because despite Grogu's reassurances, Din was still wound tight, and he didn't like being separated from them. In fact, he'd taken his few minutes in the cockpit to come up with a plan for the day that would keep them all within the perimeter of the settlement.

He forgot all about it as soon as he came out of the cockpit, and an alert pinged from his vambrace at the same moment R5 came rushing in from the turret. Binary whirs and beeps warned them that something was coming out of hyperspace less than a parsec away from their system.

Din's heart stopped dead in his chest at the realization that the dogs in his dreams may have represented something else. In this state of mind, Din envisioned everything from smugglers to Inquisitors to the Emperor himself, come to take his family from him. In sheer panic, he glared at the droid and roughly demanded, "Who?!" R5 told him it was too far out to know, and he couldn't pick up on a beacon. Din spat a Mando'a curse and immediately went to the pelt where his holster lay, and strapped it on. He had to get a better idea of what was out there. No matter who or what it was, he'd never let it touch either one of them.

"It may just be purgil, my Mandalorian," Aldor suggested with a tone of surprise in her voice while she watched Din fit his jet pack to his back for the first time in months. "Don't worry, my Love," she said more urgently as she stepped toward the central turret and its sensor array. "I can engage some scans to…"

"No," Din stopped her. "No… I'll head to the N1… if it's hostile, we don't want them to know where the settlement is. Scanning could give our position away. Should've… covert settings… we need to set some for the sensor array. But for now…"

Din stopped. The vision he'd seen in his dreams played over his waking eyes as she stood in front of him, searching through his visor for the source of the anxiety he knew she felt pouring off him. It didn't matter. Nothing did but her and Grogu. He'd meant not to leave her today. But now, with an unknown threat that could be looming less than a parsec away, he had to find out. Couldn't risk engaging the array here. Couldn't let them have his son. Couldn't let them have her.

"While I'm gone..." His voice cracked, and he tried to clear his throat. But when he spoke again, it was a whisper through broken glass. "W... watch out... for Grogu. And for... you."

"Of course," she said as her eyes continued to question his apprehension. "Din, I promise you, I don't sense anything…"

"Doesn't matter. Just… if you need me..." He hooked his finger under her chin and purposefully tilted her face up to his to hold her eyes. "Call me. Keep your comm unit on you. I'll have mine."

"Din..."

"I just... I have a bad feeling... don't know... just… Please... be careful, my Lady. Don't… maybe don't… go too far… from the YT. I'll contact you when I know what's out there but… maybe stay… inside the settlement today."

"Din... Don't worry, my Love. It's probably nothing. And if it isn't, remember that we are strong. All of us are."

The confidence in her voice bolstered his faith, and before he'd considered it, he took her face in his hands and brought his helmet down gently against her forehead as he closed his eyes against his fear. "Thank you, my Lady…" he whispered. "Thank you for telling me so." He opened his eyes and straightened back up before he spoke again. "Aldor… I… I promise… I won't be long."

He was poised to turn and walk out the door, but while he took in her sweet face, he couldn't make himself move. He didn't want to leave her. Her dreams and his… the nightmares they'd shared and this feeling. He swore he would keep her safe. Swore to keep her in the light. How could he if he was seven klicks away from her? So he stood there frozen, looking into the deep blue eyes that had advanced from questions to concerns.

R5 spoke up again to report the object had stayed its course, and its trajectory would bring it closer to the system. Din knew he had to keep them safe. But he didn't know what was passing by, or what the dogs in his dreams really meant. He decided the unknown was more pressing, and he had to find out what it was in order to protect them.

Despite the concerns and questions that continued to shoot from Aldor's eyes, she sensed his resolve and nodded in understanding. "Take the speeder. Just be careful, my Mandalorian."

"Don't worry about me. Just… stay close… close to the settlement. Please." He stood there staring down at her in silence a moment more, before he brought his gloved fingers to her jaw, and traced the elegant line in a soft caress. He begged everything holy that he would come back to this face as it was now. Beautiful and unmarred by nightmares. If not for his helmet, he would have kissed her. He seriously considered it, and was just about to take his hands to the beskar when R5 reported the object had slowed down. There was no time now. So he shoved his fear to the back of his mind, determined to do whatever it took, even if he had to leave her to do it. At last he gave her a short nod and promised, "I'll be back soon."

A flash of broken brown eyes. It was only a flash, but she saw them in that moment before the Mandalorian left for the N1, in a state of agitation she didn't entirely understand. He'd kept his thoughts and feelings so well hidden lately, she couldn't begin to figure out what was going on inside the beskar. The dear Mandalorian had been in a constant state of turmoil for weeks, but he never spoke a word of it, and Aldor didn't ask because she knew he wouldn't know what to tell her.

She'd tried not to let on that she noticed. Tried not to be wounded by his extended absences. She knew he had his reasons, but as the weeks passed in this way, the shearing stress had become painful as his heart pulled her closer while he kept himself as far away as he could. He probably didn't even realize he'd shut her out of his mind, and certainly wasn't aware of the effect it had on her. For these reasons, she had managed not to be angry with him. So far.

Grogu sensed this while he helped her tend the gardens later in the morning. He had remained deep in thought since his father left, and now he tugged on her robe, demanding she pay attention. She dropped to sit on the ground in front of him, and regarded the boy as he furrowed his brow. "Dreams," he said, pointing in the direction of the N1. "Worried."

"Is that what all this is about?" Aldor asked, not even sure anymore what "all this" was.

Grogu nodded. He didn't know what his father was dreaming about, but he knew it frightened him. That's why he'd shut them both out. Grogu knew today meant something to him. He didn't know what. He only knew it had something to do with the dreams. They scared his father more than Grogu had seen in a long time. The proximity alert this morning had not helped, and Grogu wondered if that was why the Mandalorian was acting so strange.

"My poor sweet Mandalorian," Aldor sighed, feeling horrible now for even coming close to being angry with him. Feeling horrible for her failures. All this time, she'd been operating on the idea that he wouldn't respond well to being told, let alone taught. So she'd remained an indirect instructor to him, and let him discover things for himself. She thought their symphonies of notions over the table after dinner would have been enough to slowly open his mind, but now she wondered if she'd been too subtle. She sighed deeply and closed her eyes, suddenly feeling a distress that wasn't hers or Grogu's, or even Din's. It was something they all shared, and she was to blame for it.

"He's been mired in darkness lately, Grogu," she said sadly to her companion. "I'm… only making it worse. I'm too familiar with him when I should be… training him. Something happened when he pulled me out of that nightmare. I hope he didn't take it into himself. At this stage in his awakening, it could be disastrous. I should… be more guarded… stay away like he does… But I can't help it. I miss him, Grogu. When he keeps himself from me, I miss him. I don't know… how to be without him anymore. Selfish. So selfish of me…"

Grogu jumped into her lap and placed his little hands on either side of her face, coaxing her down to touch her forehead to his. "Peace," Grogu urged. "Ha-paa-ouu."

Aldor smiled down into his big brown eyes and finally expelled a heavy breath as she relaxed, and brought Grogu into her arms to get in an extra squeeze for good measure. "Thank you, my dear One. I needed that."

"Not your fault," Grogu reassured her as he stroked her cheek. "Will be okay." He pointed again toward the direction his father had taken this morning. "Cares. Cares lot."

"I know, sweet Grogu. I know he does."

"You care lot."

"Yes, my dear One, I do."

"Should know. Out loud."

Aldor managed a chuckle at his phrasing. She squeezed him tighter, but her smile faded and she loosened her hold on him, and let her forehead fall back against his because it felt like the peace he'd suggested. "Neither of us is good with words. Especially those… that mean something."

"Don't need."

Aldor smiled at a cheering thought. "Another thing you have in common with Master Yoda, my dear One. You love to contradict yourself."

Aldor and Grogu were just rising to their feet to continue their work when the comm unit on her wrist crackled to life, and Din made his report. "An old freighter," he said, relief heavy in the words. "Smugglers…" Why did he sound out of breath? "Maybe headed toward Ilum. Changed course. Three parsecs off now."

"That's very good to hear," Aldor responded into her wrist, though she wasn't surprised.

"Headed… headed home…" She expected to hear his comm go out, but his breath continued to rake through the link as if he'd been running or in a fight. "You… you okay?" His voice barely registered over the comm. "Are you both… okay?"

"Yes, my Love, we are. I promise you."

"O… okay." Then the comm switched off, and Aldor looked down at Grogu while he looked up at her, asking the same question of each other and feeling the same concern.

"Still worried," Grogu said, furrowing his little brow again. "Why?"

"I… I don't know, my friend. I don't…"

"Dreams?"

"Maybe." Aldor sighed, looking off toward the path to the N1. Almost as soon as she raised her eyes to the trees, a massive wave of trembling golden energy flew at her as if he knew she was seeking him out and spontaneously decided to open to her again. He was rumbling with fear. Images he still couldn't show her were central to this fear. The dreams he'd spoken of. The dreams she'd dismissed. Her heart sank to her stomach to think of this failure. As a result of it, the man she loved was driven half mad by a power and foresight she'd failed to help him control. He was pulling on the bond between them, trying to speed his return like it was a matter of life and death. She worried all this rumbling would tear him apart if she let him continue like this. She looked down at Grogu, concern now heavy in her heart. "Should we go meet him? Maybe… if we…"

"Yes," Grogu said gravely. "Should." He paused and tugged on her robe again. "Just you. You go. I stay."

"But…"

"You. I stay. Just in case."

"In case of what?"

"Dreams."

"Grogu…"

"Promise. Will be okay."

Grogu was right. This was her doing, and she should be the one to help him out of it. It was her duty to make up for her failures. Even if it killed her, she would bring him out of this darkness. She didn't even think about it before she was on her way through the trees, suddenly driven by her rising apprehension. "I'm coming, my Love."

As she ran, she began to feel the ground becoming hot and unstable. He had drawn so much fire and electricity into himself, it was affecting the Eye. She'd shamefully underestimated his power, and she needed to close the distance to help him bring it under control. All this rumbling could draw more to him than he was ready to handle, and he needed her now. She broke into a sprint in her desperation to get to him. She had to tell him he was fine. Had to hold him and promise him there was nothing to fear. All of it was simply the result of this power inside him she couldn't let him ignore any longer. He needed to harness it. Use it. Don't let it tear you apart, my Love.

This thought was echoing in her mind and she almost heard his answer when a ferocious, piercing howl ripped through the dim sunlight and gathering clouds, and severed her connection to everything except the encroaching pack of ravenous dogs. Instinct took over, and as Aldor engaged her sabers and crouched into position, a massive pulse of golden energy resounded through the trees, and she knew he was on his way.

"No!"

It was the only word he knew. He finally lost his patience with the shitpile of a speeder when a loud howl pierced the mist. He engaged his jets in the same instant he jumped off the speeder, not caring how much fuel it took to get to her as fast as he could. "No!" It gritted through his throat as the image played over his eyes again. Blue silk and blood. Darkness and pain. Even the Rising Phoenix was too slow, and every fraction of a second felt like years as the images conjured blood and fire in his eyes.

When he finally found her exactly where he knew she would be, all he saw was the woman he loved set upon by a sea of bristling black fur. "NO!' Blood and fire spread from his eyes to fill every cell in his body. Instinct drove him to extend his hands to push it out of himself in a wave of warmth that turned to blue fire the moment he willed it to, and sent more than a dozen of them flying backward as he landed beside her and started blasting. He reached back to find her with his free hand, and roughly pushed her behind him to shield her. But she was already fighting. Two purple blades slashed through six dogs at once as a war cry ripped from her lips. Then a shot of blue burst over Din's head, and a single push of her feet sent her flying from his shoulders.

Up top. Now!

He fired four shots upward without questioning her silent communication, and Aldor deflected each one down to four separate marks that were all about to jump him. Then he was shooting again, kicking and punching in turns, utterly swarmed. But the dogs were fighting on two fronts now. Aldor had landed on the other side of the mass of strong black bodies while Din blasted his way through, hoping to meet her in the middle. But the dogs got too close. In an attempt to shake them off, he fired his Whistling Birds while he got his hand on his vibroblade, slashing at throats and punching ribs, trying to keep them off as they clawed and snapped their fangs against his armor. There were too many, and for the first time since he gave it away, he wished he still had the Dark Saber. He engaged his flamethrower, and though it didn't seem to bother them, it distracted them enough that he could focus on the two that had jumped onto his shoulders. He thrust his blade into one's brain and took out the other with the first one's corpse as he flung it spitefully from his shoulders.

On the other side of the pack, two streaks of purple plasma hacked through the raging dogs, reigning destruction on them in a whirlwind of blue silk and blades. Din hadn't realized how close she was, having made her way halfway through the swarm as shimmering black corpses littered the ground all around her. Then another silent command. CLOSE YOUR MIND! "NOW!" she called the last word aloud, making sure he understood her. Without knowing how or even understanding why, Din felt a barrier manifest out of nowhere from his own mind, blocking a pulse of darkness that he could almost see emanating from her. As if she'd taken those black bonds that had her helpless a few weeks ago and weaponized them against this new threat.

The elegant black fabric advanced through the pack while a wave of terror shook through all of them at once, and they bristled simultaneously. Then a cacophony of whimpers overtook them. The Alpha howled, sounding injured, and the entire pack scurried away as one body while the leader continued to bark commands.

When the dogs were gone and Din looked up, Aldor was standing in a graceful, terrifying stance with her blades still drawn and humming. She stared savagely after the pack, pushing the darkness after them… chasing them with her mind. When the dogs' barks and whimpers faded to echoes toward the eastern corner, she finally disengaged her blades as her shoulders went limp, and the hilts hung loosely in her hands at her sides. She took a deep breath and slumped to the ground.

"Aldor!"

Din was blind to everything except the crumpled wisp of fabric and three sickening slashes of red he knew he'd seen staining it. He landed on his knees in front of her before he realized he'd started to run, and immediately took hold of her to look her over. She was sitting upright and fully conscious, but his heart stopped cold in his chest the moment he saw blood oozing from the jagged lines that ripped down her back and around her right side. "No!" he growled. Blood and fire overtook his vision again as the ground shook beneath him. He wanted to kill them all. Jet after them and drop a charge in their den. He was half a second from doing just that when he felt her hand on his shoulder. He looked from the angry red gashes in her flesh to her eyes, still jewel-bright and focused. "They can't help what they are, my Mandalorian," she said dismissively. "We need them. It wouldn't be worth the trouble."

"Bacta," he countered urgently, bending closer to her bleeding side while his heart stuttered under his cuirass. "I have Bacta at the N1, Aldor. Don't know why I didn't bring it…"

"No, my Love... no... there's no need. Anyway, a storm is coming. It'll be too cold by the time..."

"I can take it. Aldor, I need to get you home... have to take care of you. I can jet you back and go get the Bacta... bring the speeder back."

"Din, I promise, I'm fine..." Aldor said, slowly rising to her feet even though Din tried to keep her where she was with a firm grasp on her unwounded hip. She lay her hands on either side of his helmet and gently tilted the viewplate up to her eyes while he remained on his knees, still gripping her hip. She kissed the crown of his helmet and softly urged, "Don't waste any more of your fuel, my Love. And you may need the Bacta for something more serious someday. I promise, it's not as bad as it looks..."

He stood as he let his hand slide from her hip, but he wasn't convinced. "Aldor, those wounds are deep. They need tending. And you can't walk all the way back to the YT like this. You're exhausted, my Lady. Please, let me…"

"I promise, my Mandalorian, I'm only drained from using the darkness. Trust me, I'll be fine. These little scratches are nothing. If it were serious, I would tell you. But for now, if you would, call R5 to bring the sledge. Help me gather some of these corpses. I can dress them for pelts and maybe we can scare off the pack with the carcasses somewhere beyond the spring. It might appease the vultures too."

Din was immovable. He couldn't believe she was standing here calling three wide tears in her flesh "little scratches," thinking about pelts and carcasses while she was still bleeding. In pain. He felt it. He stood stock still as he stared at her, and took her shoulders in his hands when she tried to walk past. He wanted to take his helmet off, stare into her eyes and make her see that he needed the truth. But he knew she felt it, and only whispered through the modulator, "Swear it, Aldor... swear to me... that you're okay." His voice came out low and rough, heavy with fear.

"I swear it," she said quietly, her eyes pinned to his through the visor.

He nodded stiffly, let her go, and made the call to R5. Then he silently bent to start gathering their quarry to pile up for the sledge, his feelings confused and chaotic. Angry. Angry at something. He didn't know what. Everything probably. Relieved, but angry. Tired and spent and… furious. At what, he still didn't know. He hated the dogs. He knew that. When R5 arrived with the sledge, he found himself savagely plucking the corpses from the ground and spitefully throwing them onto it, still wanting to bomb them out. And he was livid that smugglers were coming within a parsec of the Eye. But above everything else, he was incensed that his vision had almost come true.

Even though she tried not to let him see it, Aldor was moving much slower than usual while they made their way home. The scratches down her back from a particularly nasty female were still wet and burning, and she felt a bruise forming all around it from the force of the blow. Even though she knew Din could feel all of it, she bit back every gasp of pain that tried to escape her lips and continued to do everything she could to impress upon him that the biggest hurt she took was from using the Dark Side. She hadn't used it to such a degree in many years, and she'd forgotten how taxing it could be. She resolved to build up her stamina again because she had also forgotten how effective it could be. She was glad it had served some good. When she saw Din swarmed and nearly overwhelmed in the midst of battle, it drove her into a rage that decimated nearly half the pack. Between past hurts and present threats, she'd succumbed to the fear that even beskar might not have been enough to save him from the ravenous dogs. She wouldn't lose him like that. She wouldn't lose him ever. Not if she could help it.

Grateful as she was that the darkness served to save the man she loved, she still felt cold and empty. She looked forward to seeing Grogu, knowing his sweet face would rally her exhausted spirit. She hoped Din would spend some time with her after dinner this evening too. In silence if he wanted. It didn't matter. But she knew him all too well, and was sure he would keep his distance again tonight, even though his feelings shot out at her like blaster bolts. Under such a barrage of confused anger and vehement concern, all she could do was promise again, "I'm only tired, my Love. Don't worry."

She hoped he would relax a little once they got home, but he remained in a shambles of feelings and thoughts. All through the evening, Din rumbled. He took it upon himself to warm some leftover stew for dinner while Aldor tended to her wounds. She sensed his frustration when she insisted on doctoring herself, and promised him again that she was fine, even going so far as to try to show him that the scratches weren't deep. But he turned his helmet away in disgust and merely went back to the kitchen to oversee their dinner while she excused herself to the medical bay in the engine room.

Dinner was ready by the time she returned, and she found Grogu alone at the table with his bowl of stew and a grossly oversized serving waiting in her usual place at the table. Grogu pointed toward the cockpit and quietly informed her, "Mad."

"Do you know why?"

Grogu shook his head. Pointing again at the door, he answered, "Doesn't either."

Din remained in the cockpit long after Aldor had finished her own enormous serving of stew, and when he finally emerged, he only gave her a curt nod when she thanked him for seeing to dinner, then made a bee line for the fresher, where he spent another long time, avoiding both of them. Still rumbling.

Grogu went to bed before Din came out of the fresher. Left alone, Aldor got up because she couldn't sit still any longer, and was washing their dinner dishes just as Din walked back into the kitchen. True to a new habit of the last several weeks, he'd left all his armor but his helmet behind, and now shifted on his feet as if he didn't know what to do. At first he merely leaned against the wall at the end of the counter, watching her intently while she finished the dishes. She thought it wisest to say nothing, and merely continued with her task, knowing he would speak the words when he knew them.

Though his anger had abated slightly, there was still flame trapped in the static she sensed collecting inside his chest, and while she was finishing the final dish, the fingers of lava and smoke broke free and lashed out directly at her as his breath kicked up and the ground under their feet began to vibrate with the eruption she knew was coming. She turned away from the sink as she dried her hands, looking up at him carefully. "Din… did I…"

"I told you," he murmured, deathly quiet as the liberated strands of lava and smoke wrapped themselves around her. Aldor struggled to maintain her composure when these solid strands of Force energy physically pulled her toward him in small degrees. She dared not acknowledge it, and only let him pull her along while she stared into his eyes, watching them shatter behind the beskar when he continued in the same ambiguous tone. "I told you I had a bad feeling, Aldor. Why?"

"Din, I…" Aldor stuttered, truly perplexed. "I… sensed something was happening to you, and I… I had to get to you… because…"

"Why?!" he growled, lurching forward at the same time she was jerked half a meter closer. They were face to face as he stared down into her eyes, the black visor so close, she could smell the metal and see wild brown eyes screaming at her in his native tongue. They told her everything she needed to know. This wasn't anger. Not really. It was pain. Panic. When he knew she'd come to this conclusion, he pushed the panic into her mind, and she saw the image that conjured it as he finally set it free. Need you to see… It was a ghastly picture of herself, ripped apart and dying. She saw herself in his arms, lifeless and cold, clutched to his chest while her blood soaked through to his skin. It had possessed him since the night he first dreamed it weeks ago. Today, he knew. He knew it was today.

Do you see? Don't you know?!

"My Love…I didn't…"

"I told you, Aldor, I had a bad feeling, told you… but still you..." He stopped short as his visor remained locked her face. The strands of lava and smoke squeezed around her as his breath escalated. The unarmored chest shook with the ground beneath them, and she felt something give way inside it. It shot directly into her when the Mandalorian seized her in his embrace, holding her tight against him in an iron grip as long, halting breaths heaved out of his lungs and broke apart in his throat. "Don't you know what I saw, Aldor?" The words were trembling and breathless as he cradled her closer with possessive hands clamped around her waist and in her hair. The beskar helmet dropped over her shoulder and turned to repeat purposefully into her ear, "Don't you know what I saw, my Lady?"

He showed it to her again. Blue silk and blood. It was almost spiteful as he showed her everything. A chaos of emotions. The same black abyss he'd saved her from when she dreamed of the Emperor. Wrenching pain and an echoing, gaping emptiness that consumed every thought and feeling. He held her tighter as chaos and blackness culminated into a penetrating fear that ripped into her heart. So painful, it drew tears from her eyes as she whispered against the warm black fabric crushed to her lips. "I'm so sorry, my Love...I didn't realize…"

"No..." he growled, setting her away from him with his hands on her shoulders. "No... Don't do that. It's not your fault. Not yours... no... I need... need to..."

Din could say nothing more, and dropped his hands from her shoulders before he surged past her and into the cockpit again, closing the door behind him as she heard a clunk of metal hitting the floor.

He stayed there in silence for the remainder the night.

Aldor lay awake well into the wee hours. He was still rumbling from the cockpit, and every quake of his spirit shook right into her. The only insight it provided into his state of mind was static mixed with wordless sensations. Perhaps it was as it should be. After she'd failed him so catastrophically, she may not be worthy of insight. She was sure she was the reason for this turmoil. Their bond had awakened a power in him beyond anything she could have imagined. She should have sensed it. She should have been training him all this time instead of letting him find out for himself. She'd been blind to the depth of his power. Power of that magnitude needed more careful training. Now, because of her shortsightedness, she might never be able to get close enough to help him.

Stupid. Blind. Selfish. Maybe the old Masters were right. Maybe she should never have allowed herself to love him. If she'd been able to see him as a student or a friend in need, it might have been more obvious. But she couldn't help it. She'd become dependent on having so familiar a Spirit at hand, and got too greedy for his company to risk any introduction of heavier talk to their symphonies of notions.

Not your fault… my Lady… don't know how to live like this… don't know what to do with… everything I feel… need…

Time… take your time, my Love… do what you must…

Don't know what that is yet…

You will, my Love…

Rest… my Lady… both of us… too much… too much for now… just know… what you mean to me… always will… now you know… how much I care for you…

And then he was gone, back into the beskar shell. But it was enough to ease her mind, and she finally drifted off into a fitful sleep.

It felt like less than a minute later when she woke first thing in the morning, just as a glint of beskar moved toward the hatch. He sensed her waking, and turned the helmet back into the room to look at her. "I'll be back," he promised. "I'll be back."

Din had no idea what his mission was this morning. He just knew he had to walk. Follow the springs to the sea and just… walk. Walk it off. Walk it through. Whatever it was. He had to get out of there. Away from the angry red slashes across her beloved skin and the visions that sent him so far over the edge. Over the edge of what, he didn't know. He only knew he'd seen it, and it almost came true.

After he sequestered himself in the cockpit last night, he had to get his helmet off right away because it was suffocating him again. As soon as it was off, he was able to breathe, and the anger burned away as he slumped to the floor and lay there spread-eagle, looking up at the storm that raged outside the transparisteel, trying not to think anymore until he sensed her thoughts. Why she blamed herself for his weakness, he would never know, but easing her mind had successfully eased his, and he finally fell asleep where he lay. This morning when he woke, he hated himself for snapping at her, and just knew he had to get away to work out what to say to her. He knew he would have to say something. If they were to continue in silence, it would kill them both, and it was his turn to speak up. She'd done plenty of that already, and he owed it to her.

However much she blamed herself, none of this was her fault. Din knew he was the culprit. The barriers he'd built over so many years of fighting were crumbling one by one, and he didn't know how to live without them yet. He'd almost forgotten how intensely he could feel. About anything. Everything. It was too much to process too quickly. Too powerful to restrain within his crumbling barriers. Every day since he came here, the rumble beneath his feet continued to shake them loose. At last they'd come down in a crash of chaos and he ended up here in the rubble, trying to dig himself out. The final wall came thundering down when he saw the blood on her clothes, and realized just how precious she was to him. Her and every drop of her blood. He didn't know how to navigate without barriers, so fear manifested as rage he directed at the very thing he feared to lose.

After walking through these thoughts for a while, Din came to a hidden glen by the tributary he'd been following from the spring. He didn't know how far he'd come. When it occurred to him he had no idea where he was, he made a quick assessment of his surroundings. The trees had thinned out, and mostly willows and grasses encroached on the creek. Several other tributaries flowed nearby, forming a small delta he knew would lead him straight to the shallow sea. He wanted to keep going, but he liked this glen, and he felt heavy. He might as well leave his armor for a while. It seemed to hinder him here anyway, and he needed to feel something besides this chaos of crumbling barriers.

When he took his helmet off, the breeze wafted into his face as if it'd waited for that moment to breathe through the glen. The salt in the air was cleansing, welcoming. Perfect. As soon as Din stripped himself down to just his tunic and trousers, he let out a sigh of relief. He sank down to the ground to sit cross-legged by the shallow, sparkling stream, and finally took some time to learn how to breathe again.

For a while he just sat there rubbing his temples, massaging away the tension that had built up over more than 30 years of wearing a beskar helmet. Not thinking, just smelling the air. Feeling the ground under him and the sky above him. The planet core and the gas giant. The Eye and the sea. The suns and the YT. Aldor, Grogu, himself. His chaos of crumbling barriers sank into the ground as he focused on the trinary stars.

He stretched himself out and pushed the chaos deeper into the rock while he craned his consciousness far enough upward to meet the suns with his mind. In a communion with old soldiers like him, he felt a camaraderie with them and stayed there for a while. With his mind floating between the suns as they floated through space, Din began to feel the invisible connection between them and himself. Between all of them and the planet. The System. The Galaxy. Din savored the stability of this connection and found himself seeking more connections. Specifically, the two that had him looking back down from the suns to the Eye. Grogu. Aldor. He didn't want to be long away from them, so he slowly let himself retract back into his body by the stream.

Upon his return, he found the springs underground had taken the chaos, and thanked him for it. They offered a softer energy in exchange for the one he'd left behind. He accepted it, and heaved a long, deep breath as this subtler passion settled inside him. He instantly felt the difference. His thoughts and concerns finally harmonized into a singular purpose. The rubble of broken barriers were rearranged into peaceful compartments and open corrals, and he could finally see how to put everything in its proper place. He easily gathered his assets in this climate of purpose and order, and continued forward as soon as the suns and the springs reminded him he had work to do here. Driven only by that thought and not thinking beyond it, Din strapped his holster around his unarmored waist and followed the stream toward the sea. Even though he had no idea of what he was meant to do, his mind remained bent on it as another half-hour's hike brought him through the trees to the shore.

The beach was narrow and the sea only a few dozen meters away from the tree line. It was scattered with remnants of rock shelves that had long been pulverized and broken by ancient glaciers, salt water, and wind. These massive fossils of early upheaval stood in state between long stretches of white sand and scant patches of pale purple reeds. Rough and bittersweet. A landscape created by the same crumbling chaos he'd given to the springs. The same chaos that must have built the entire system.

Din barely had a moment to enjoy these reflections before he felt a rumble from the sea, and was compelled to find the source. So he continued across the sand, and saw them before he came to the surf. Huge black backs streaked with scant furrows of dark blood-red cut through the choppy waters in an agitated dance. The rays knew he was there. Almost as soon as his boot met the surf, one of them breached the surface with a massive, wide maw full of sharp teeth that smiled maliciously at him.

For half a second, it looked like the Armorer. Why she came to his mind, he didn't know, but there she was, laughing at him.

The ray pounded it's broad body into the water in some territorial display that produced thunder from the sea and shook the ground. The rumble dislodged a rage of cloistered images and emotions that didn't have a place in Din's new configuration of softer passion. Unleashed and unchecked, they scattered through his blood, never to return to the place they'd fallen from. They filled him with wordless sensations full of dogs and blood and blue silk. Memories of betrayal and Mandalore. Battle droids and Jedi. Bounty hunters and lawmen. The Empire and the Republic. The ray took all of it from him, only to regurgitate it back from the gaping black throat that could swallow a buck whole. It made him hate it. This belligerent, mocking beast needed to die along with everything it tried to use against him. It would be his gift to his family. A peace offering to make up for his failures.

The ray sensed his intent, and screamed a ghostly ultrasonic call to arms. Din drew his blaster and blade, and let a savage cry rip from his throat. It echoed over the rock and sea as he ran headlong at the advancing ray, bent on conquering a new enemy that mocked him with all that came before.

Something told him to jump, and he heeded the call, leaping from the sand as the ground pushed him and the sky pulled him up, arcing over the ray's back, blasting as he went until he landed on top of it. The blaster fire only riled the beast to desperation as it bucked wildly, trying to get Din off its back. He sensed its panic. Sensed its power. Sensed it wanting to dive. Then brandishing his blade as he sprang up from the ray's back, he summoned his static of useless energy, and commanded it to collect everything it could into his body and blade. It yielded to his wishes and went to work, pulling power into the blade from the ornery ray beneath him, along with the water and ground that created it. At the same time, it drew the gravity of the gas giant and the fire of the suns into his muscles and bone. With the elements coursing through him and his heart on fire, he landed hard and hatefully on the ray's spine. It went rigid with shock at the force of Din's blow, and screamed out a terrifying, rumbling cry as he drove all the forces he'd gathered from the elements into one savage thrust of his blade deep into the beast's brain. The ray shuddered and lurched, and fell dead halfway in the surf as Din landed in a roll in front of it, and brought himself immediately back to his feet to stare in awe of what he'd just done.