“Yes, yes,” Leia said impatiently, standing very close and craning her head to look up at the tall Captain. “You’ve said. You were coming for me.”
She grasped the edges of his jacket and tugged hard to bring him into range before she kissed him.
Veers glanced to Piett who was smiling and met his gaze with amusement. Max didn’t miss the fact that his hand was closely entwined with Sola’s.
“All right,” the General sighed. “Let’s get going. I have a wife to get back to here—-I’m starting to feel left out.”
“Apologies for that, General,” Sola told him with a gentle pat to his arm. “I very much want to meet her and thank her for loaning you to us.”
“Both of us would do a great deal for Firmus, Miss Naberrie,” he informed her as Piett flushed predictably.
“Thank you,” she said, leaning comfortably against his friend. “As would I. But I agree—Captain Solo, if you could perhaps disentangle yourself from my niece, we would like to get to a place where we’re less likely to be shot.”
Veers chuckled at this dry observation and reflected that he liked Sola Naberrie a great deal. Piett merely smiled and kissed her fingers before he helped her back up the bank and into the truck once more.
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We Always Find Each Other, Don't We? Oneshot Twenty Four WWI/WWII AU
(I switched things up and combined the two prompts.) :)
https://www.fanfiction.net/s/14117002/24/We-Always-Find-Each-Other-Don-t-We
(Submitted by sctwilightvampwolfgal on fanfiction.net)
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to the millionth degree
The metal of the jailhouse bars was cool against his lips.
Their hands, clasped together and resting on the steel, seemed to generate the only warmth in the open, echoing room.
“Carwood,” He said, voice strained and shaking, hands warm and rough. “It’s not too late—”
“Of course it is,” Carwood cut him off. It was almost like they’d switched positions, in two years. Neither hunted nor hunter, neither loved nor lover, the same in the most opposite way. “It’s always been too late. Since… since the day I first saw you, it was too late.”
Dark eyes bore into his and barely wavered. Slender, calloused fingers tightened around his own before releasing them.
“Go.” Ronald Speirs said, and stepped further back into the cell. “Before I won’t let you.”
-
19.4k - Rated E - Read on Ao3
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So, you have chosen the HTTYD Rebels AU...
“Wolf! Wolf, get up, we have to go now!”
Wolf’s scaly black head raised instantly, and Ezra heard him whine in anxiety as he saw the limp body that Ezra was half-carrying, half-dragging across the pebbly shore.
In half a second, the dragon was beside Ezra, crouching low so he could climb up, struggling to pull Sabine with him.
“Fly!”
Wolf whimpered again, looking at Sabine.
“She’s okay, she’s just—not awake! Go!”
At that second, three of the biggest dragons chasing them burst out of the tunnel onto the beach with a spitting bellow of fire, their bulging eyes wide with rage. Wolf didn’t hesitate in taking to the skies, flapping away from the island as Ezra held desperately on, practically pinning Sabine between himself and Wolf so she wouldn't fall.
Ezra watched behind him, but the dragons stopped on the beach; they didn’t follow, and slowly, Wolf leveled out, circling in the thick clouds, giving Ezra a moment to think.
His first thought was that if Sabine woke up now, she'd probably smack him. Or else shove him away, making one or both of them fall off the dragon, likely to their deaths.
Straightening up, he cautiously arranged her so she was sitting in front of him—much better—and then took stock of the situation.
Conclusion? Not good.
Sabine knew about Wolf—that wasn’t bad, because she seemed to like their ride earlier and he knew she wouldn’t tell his secret—but anyone who knew was still a risk.
Then there was the island.
Ezra hadn’t exactly seen a sign put up saying Welcome to Mustafar, but he’d heard enough from Kanan to recognize the place that the swarm of dragons had taken them.
Kanan told him that Mustafar was where dragonriders went to die—where their dragons turned against them.
Besides Kanan, Ezra—and Sabine, if she counted—might well be the only dragonriders to leave that island alive.
It was obvious what he had to do—he had to talk to Kanan and Hera. They would know more than he did about this, and Ezra needed to tell someone about what he learned.
The only problem was Sabine.
Maybe he could trust her with the secret of one dragon. His dragon.
But the only way he could trust her with the location of the village, and the people and the families and the dragons there, was if he told her everything, and Ezra wasn’t ready for that.
He didn’t have a choice, though, did he?
“Here goes nothing,” Ezra muttered to himself, and nudged Wolf towards the Dragonrider village.
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“Drop your weapons!” barked the young Captain, joining the boy who was at the front of their group—-a big boned young man better suited to wrestling draft horses than a rifle. But he held it steady for all that.
And before he could stop her, Sola slid in front of Piett, hands wide as she gently let the Enfield slide from her hand to the ground.
“We are trying to reach the Allied lines,” she stated, voice morphing from exhausted woman at the end of her rope, to elegant British aristocrat in a moment. He loved her ridiculously. “I wish to see your commanding officer.”
The Captain looked quite uncertain in the face of such confident tones. He looked more so when Leia also stepped forward.
“My father is General Anakin Skywalker,” she said. “He was supposed to land once the beachheads were secured. If at all possible, please let him know you’ve found us. And these gentlemen are with us.”
Piett flicked a glance at Veers. It was almost amusing that the tiny girl was standing in front of a man of Max’s height, but the circumstances were on a knife’s edge and Leia’s courage was no laughing matter.
“A General?” the Captain replied skeptically. “And you’re all what? Taking a stroll through the country?”
“Well it’s such a lovely war,” Solo said, clearly fed up. “We thought we’d get a better view.”
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