𝐜𝐲𝐚𝐫𝐞'𝐬𝐞 - 𝘥𝘪𝘯 𝘥𝘫𝘢𝘳𝘪𝘯

Contrition

contrition • gn!reader
Din comforts you after you do something drastic to save his life.

—§—

Your wish has always been to help people in this galaxy. That's how you ended up running around with Din and then the child in the Razor Crest so long ago. Never once did you imagine you would be taking someone else's life—not until the day you actually do.

Din's voice is calling for you, but it sounds as if he's miles away as you stare between your bloody hand and the Trandoshan hunter lying limp on the ground. The knife Din had gifted you a long time ago has fallen at your feet, coated in the same color as your trembling hands. It had all happened so fast, yet the memory still plays in slow motion within your mind.

The Trandoshan bounty hunters had run up on you and Din at this marketplace without warning. They leapt from roofs and lunged from the shadows before either you or Din could spot them. Most of them ran at Din, but one of them happened to notice that the child was hanging in the satchel at your side. You had shaken your head at them when they approached you, pleading that they stay away.

"Please, I—I don't want to hurt you!" you remember exclaiming, running backwards until you met the hard wall of a nearby building. The Trandoshan had closed in on you with a terrifying smirk, tilting their head at you with malice. The sounds of Din's nearby fighting with three other Trandoshans had been drowned out by the sound of your own pulse roaring in your ears.

"You think you can hurt me?" the Trandoshan had snarled with amusement. "That's cute." They lunged for the child and you pulled the satchel out of their grasp with one hand. The other reached for the blade you've always kept sheathed within your boot.

"Please," you had pleaded once again. "Leave us be."

The Trandoshan had hissed at you with another sly smile. They dug their feet into the ground before charging at you with their weapon held tight in their hands. You managed to dodge a few swings of the long stick and blade, but when they kicked their leg out to hit your stomach, you fell into the dirt with a blow hard enough to knock all the air from your lungs. You remained there in a daze for a long moment—though the suspended moment had given you the opportunity to observe that the sounds of Din's own battle were growing more and more quiet.

You had forced yourself to sit up on your elbows, only to watch with horror as the Trandoshan who had just fought you started to move towards Din. Your riduur had just finished off the last hunter he had been fighting and was left completely blind to the incoming attack. The Trandoshan's blade would pierce Din's back with ease if nothing was done about it.

"No!" you had exclaimed with horror. You leapt to your feet with newfound strength and lunged at the Trandoshan, sinking your blade into their back before you could even think twice about it.

The Trandoshan froze underneath your touch. You drew your blade from them in sudden horror of what you had done, just to drop it a few moments later when you heard the gurgling chokes coming from the hunter. They swayed a few times before falling to the ground in a motionless heap, their blood staining your hands, your blade, and your very soul.

"Cyar'ika, ner kar'ta," Din's voice now calls from right beside you. His gloved hands are firm as they take you by the shoulders, but he handles you gently as his visor searches your face. "It's okay. You're okay."

You glance down at your hands and shake your head. Your lips quiver as the blood starts to rush out of your face, turning the surrounding galaxy into a blur as you stumble a step towards Din. He's quick to catch you as he keeps an arm around your waist and uses his other hand to cup your cheek. Din's helmet meets your forehead as he forces you to look into his visor.