#aspen rebellion
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How are you all today? :D
What are your favorite pastries/snacks?
We're all doing well!!! Rowan got to sleep in today so now I'm all full of energy! - Aspen
Speak for yourself... (Yawn) - Hazel
Oh hush, you, you're always tired. Now, in terms of snacks... I just adore cinnamon buns... They're simply delicious. - Wisteria
I know it'll sound basic as hell, but I could eat sausage rolls all day... Or those little cheese and onion pastry bites? Thosw are so good... - Aspen
I enjoy a pasty every now and again - honestly any kind, I'm yet to eat a pasty I have not enjoyed. - Willow
Does a bakewell tart count as a pastry? I love them.. they always remind me of home... - Sequoia
Muffins. I don't give a shit it's not a pastry, chocolate chip muffins. - Yew
Ooookay then, uh, well honestly I really like pain au chocolat - they're so good, especially warmed up - Hazel
I suppose I'll have to say croissants - especially almond ones, if I must... - Eden
Yes! You must! Oh I just gotta say jam tarts... They're just so cute and yummy! Thanks for the question! - Juniper
#the sides answer#eden conformity#wisteria creativity#aspen rebellion#hazel security#juniper empathy#sequoia intellect#willow deceit#yew sleep
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I love rendering!!!!!!!!
#madoka magica#puella magi madoka magica#mahou shoujo madoka magica#madoka magica rebellion#madoka kaname#madoka magica fanart#pmmm madoka#madoka#magical girl#aspen’s art
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Aspenswirl could throw Bumbleheart around and he'd apologize for the inconvenience
#/J#warriors#warrior cats#warriors oc#warrior cats oc#art#oc: houndthroat#oc: aspenswirl#oc: bumbleheart#houndthroat's rebellion#rebel duology#Aspen is PineClan's resident Woah Big Lady#Bumble is her wife
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I Know the End | Vol. 2
I Know the End
Poe Dameron x Reader
Fandom: Star Wars
Summary: You were one of the Rebellion’s greatest weapons in the Galactic Civil War, a Princess from a distant planet, a Jedi with wings. Now, you’ve found yourself in a new world, a new war, your old friends long gone.
When Poe Dameron was sent on a wild goose chase of a reconnaissance mission four systems out, he never expected to find the key to his heart…
Note: At long last, here it is. Thank you for your patience. I love you all. I honestly wrote this as a long-winded attempt to make Poe Dameron’s dumbest line “Somehow, Palpatine returned” into a gut-wrenching and emotional moment and it got way out of hand. I am no Star Wars expert, but I did a lot of research for this and consider myself waaaaaaay more of a SW nerd now than I was a mere two months ago. Could probably write a dissertation on it at this point (I say as I literally churned out a novel). It is my first time writing for the fandom, though, so, here goes nothing. I did make up a fair bit of stuff and a good handful of OCs for this. Let me know what you think!
Warnings: Canon-typical violence, lightsaber and blaster wounds, alcohol consumption, war and the implications of it, gets a little steamy but no smut, reader has nightmares, misuse of the Force, Rewriting the Rise of Skywalker a lil bit…
Word Count: 82.7k total (Split into four approximately 20k chunks)
Reader Is: 24, a Jedi, a Princess, has butterfly wings
Vol 1. | Vol 2. | Vol 3. | Vol 4.
Charms in Trees
A few small battles came and went. It was pilot stuff, mostly. They’d go, blow up a First Order transport, and be back in time for dinner. You always offered your help, but it was never needed. Still, you’d take any excuse to go see Poe, especially in that orange jumpsuit. You weren’t sure what it was about it, but you couldn’t get enough of it.
Sometimes you thought about taking it off of him.
It was a growing problem, your little unspoken thing. You’d forgotten just how all-encompassing a crush could be, especially when it was as attainable as the one sitting in front of you right now. You shared a base, lived just down the hall from him. Maker, you could feel that he felt the same way about you, but you still couldn’t bring yourself to shatter the normalcy.
Part of you wanted him to do it, finally take that leap of faith. You were patient. You could wait.
So you did.
Supplies began to dwindle, so you put on a utility uniform and went with some of the others to get more, lifting boxes with your arms instead of your mind. You helped Aspen and some of the other mechs with repairs. You spent time with Soren, both training and not. He was fun to hang out with, a funny guy. Had your sense of humor.
He told you that Laesynda had taken him out to Mariposas a few times when he was growing up. They’d leave flowers outside your pod, light a candle for a while and tell stories. It was haunting, almost, the funerals people held for you despite the fact that you weren’t dead.
Poe had been refurbishing an old X-Wing in his free time, which wasn’t very much to begin with. Leia had been upping his responsibilities, clearly bracing for something. Whether it was an attack or a defensive move, you couldn’t tell, but it had him stressed out.
On a beautiful afternoon, you looked for him in the hangar, armed with some baked goods. BB-8 chirped to welcome you and Poe kicked a shelf in shock, a toolbox teetering for a moment before it started its descent straight on top of him. You caught it in mid-air. The tools floated out of the box, your arm outstretched, heart racing. You set them all down gently, safely away from that pretty face of his.
“Didn’t mean to scare you, Dameron. Came here with a peace offering.”
“Peace offering?” He asked, rolling himself out from under the X-Wing. He peeled his work gloves off, dusting himself off as best as he could.
It looked pretty close to finished, you noted, looking it over. It would need a paint job, of course, but all of the major parts seemed to be accounted for.
“Finn said you’ve been in a mood lately…” You admitted. “Figured I’d bring you something to take your mind off it.”
He grinned, looking at the gift and then up at you. There it was, that infamous flyboy grin of his. “Sunshine, you’re all I need to take my mind off of it. But these are appreciated, too.”
Your heart fluttered at the nickname, handing him the container of sweets. “How’s it going in here? It looks good.”
“Thanks. Should be done soon.” He reported, busting into the box and biting into the sweet, berry-filled tart. “And then we’ll really be in business.”
“I’m sorry about your other one, by the way. I feel partially responsible for that.”
“It wasn’t my first. I knew it wouldn’t be my last.” He chuckled. “At least it got to go out with a bang.”
“And some flames, as well. It was on fire, last I saw it.”
“I am glad I got to take you for a spin in it, though. Think I could get you into this new one sometime?”
“I’m always down for a joyride.” You told him, eyes sparkling, words sincere. “Let me know when it’s done and I can try to fit you into my busy Jedi princess schedule.”
“You’re serious.”
“Always.” You nodded. “I’ve been wanting to spend more time with you.”
He pouted, gazing at you through those dark lashes, a little bit of fruit filling stuck to the corner of his stupidly pink lips. His tongue poked out to get it, but failed. “Wish I’d known that a week ago, I would have carved out more time.”
“Don’t worry about it, Commander.” You said, resting a hand against his chest. You reached up with the other hand, gently wiping corner of his lips. “I know you’re busy, too.”
He held your hand against his cheek, meeting your eyes. “Not too busy for you, your Highness.”
“Good.” You replied, thumb gently stroking his stubble.
He turned his face, pressing a soft kiss to the pad of your thumb. He met your eyes, gaze all innocent despite the way your cheeks were flushing. “Did you get it?”
“I did.” You nodded, making a speedy recovery. “Couldn’t let the best pilot in the Resistance walk around with jam on his face, could I?”
“Well, thank you, for the treats, for sparing my reputation, all of it.” His eyes scanned down your face as you finally removed your hand from the side of his. “You got anything going on today, (Y/N)?”
“Training.”
“Mmm. What time?”
“Soon.” You said, glancing at the watch around your wrist. It had been Luke’s, Leia had given it to you. “About fifteen minutes.”
“Could you move that panel for me real quick?” He asked, pointing up at the wing of his X-Wing, where a patch of machinery was exposed, a heavy piece of sheet metal leaning up against it.
“Oh yeah. Absolutely.”
He set his box of tarts on the workbench and rolled a ladder over to the X-Wing while you lifted the wing cover into place, arms out in front of you, the heavy piece floating in mid-air. He stopped and watched for a second, chuckling to himself.
“What?”
“Still getting used to it, is all.” He confessed, gently pushing the piece into place, where you held it until he started bolting it into place. “This thing weighs like two hundred pounds, and you just…You’re amazing. You know that?”
“You think that’s cool, you should see what I can do with some pretty hefty rocks.”
He glanced over his shoulder at you, the whir of his wrench stopping. “Oh I’m sure it’s phenomenal.”
“Anything else you need while I’m here?”
He shook his head. “I’m all set. Good luck with training. I hope you…you know, move things good.”
“I’ll certainly try.” You chuckled, turning and leaving the hangar.
Over and over in your head, you watched him turn his face and press the gentlest kiss to your thumb. You may have been the one with wings, but he was always the one that gave you butterflies.
***
Your final bits of training that day just so happened to be wing-centric. That morning, you’d flitted from tree to tree, hanging metal charms in the branches with lengths of twine. Rey had been given some other independent activities to work on, but it was clear you and Soren had some ground to cover, or…not cover, flight being the main objective here.
The two of you stared up at them. He looked at you for instructions, but you simply repeated what you’d already said.
“Go get them.”
“What, with the Force?”
“Nope. We’ve been using the Force for hours. Time to stretch those wings, little prince.”
He laughed. “I don’t think I’ve ever been up that high before.”
“That’s why I need you to be comfortable with it. If you go about it the right way, you can get some serious height. More, if you strengthen your wings with practice and exercise, and more yet if you use the Force for a little boost.”
“Could you…show me?”
You chuckled, hands on your hips, looking up, up, up at the charms. Yeah, that would definitely be a bit daunting if it was your first time flying. “Sure. I’m not gonna cut them down, though, because I’ll have to go up there and hang them all again.”
You spread your wings, shaking the accumulated dust and humidity collected on them from Ajan Kloss’ temperate ecosystem. And then you took off, running at a stump on the ground and using it as a springboard, wings carrying you to the first branch, where you hit the hanging charm sending it swinging.
You flipped from the first branch to the next, a few feet higher, touching that charm before heading to the next, and the next. You were like a dancer, graceful, fluid, gliding from branch to branch, using your limited flight to climb until you were near the top of the highest tree in your training grounds. You took a moment to look out at the camp, admire the Resistance crew bustling from building to building, doing their daily tasks to keep your movement up and running.
And then, doing one last somersault, you dove down, catching yourself with your wings and a burst of air, kicking up the leaves scattered on the forest floor.
Soren stared with wide eyes, Rey having joined him on the ground.
“And you expect me to do…that?”
“Not all of it.” You assured him. “That last jump is definitely something you’ll have to build towards. It’s a leap of faith. But that’s why I’m here, to catch you if the landing isn’t going so smooth.”
“Alright.” He nodded. “I can try.”
“Do or do not. There is no try.” You said, the words familiar, even if they weren’t yours. Sometimes the Force spoke through you; you could feel that this was one of those times. “Aim for five charms today. Any more than that and I’ll be impressed.”
Soren looked up at the first charm, on a low, sturdy branch, deceptively close to the ground. Like you did, he took off at a run, using his wings to get some height and land–somewhat shakily–on the branch, but he did it, youthful face breaking into a grin.
“There you go!” You encouraged, Rey smiling as she watched.
“It’s really great, what you’re doing with him.” Rey said, voice sincere. She reached for your hand and you gave it to her, just as you had that very first day you met. Long ago, you and Leia had shared a sisterhood, and now you shared that with Rey.
The more things change, the more they stay the same.
“I hope so. He’s…well, he’s my first Padawan. After you, of course, but you had a head start.”
“I wish you had been here when all of this started,” she confessed, squeezing your hand. “It would have been…nice to know I wasn’t alone in this.”
“You’re not alone.” You told her. “A long time ago…I was meditating, trying to find other Jedi out there. Luke and I thought we were alone, too. I found someone, another Jedi, a young woman. The Force works in mysterious ways, of course, because…it was you. You wouldn’t be born for another, what, eleven years? But I know it was you. We were meant to be here. I was meant to help you and…I plan on doing that. No matter what.”
Rey smiled, words failing her. She pulled you into her arms instead, resting her head against yours. You hugged her back, rubbing comforting circles in her shoulders.
“You know, I’ve always wanted a sister.” She admitted with a laugh, tears in her eyes.
“Well now you’ve got one.”
“I got seven charms, Aunt (Y/N).” Soren said, dangling them from their strings when you turned to look.
“How was the landing?”
“A little shaky, but…” He shrugged and then looked back up at the next charm, even higher than the last. “I think I could get another one.”
“Go ahead. Round two.” You encouraged, motioning him up into the tree.
Finn and Poe walked over not long after, chatting animatedly about something, BB-8 rolling alongside them. It was clear, even from that distance, that Finn was teasing him.
You couldn’t help but smile at the sight.
“She getting you up there next, Rey?” Finn asked, pointing up at the trees, where Soren had very clearly already gotten the hang of it, throwing a few flips and flourishes into his movements. You grinned, proud.
“Oh, no, I don’t think so.” Rey shook her head. “I will after you do.”
“Fair enough.” Finn chuckled. “How’s it going, ladies?”
“Good. Really good. Good, productive day today.” You said.
“Good view up there?” Poe asked, shielding his eyes as he glanced up at the highest branch, a glittering charm still hanging from a thread.
“Great view.” You said.
“I thought you said you could only cover short distances, that looks like quite a height.”
“You have to build up to it.” You told him, pointing to all the shorter branches on the way up to that point. “I can’t just fly straight up there. Maybe with some strength training, but these things aren’t what they used to be.” You gave them a flutter, noting the way his eyes caught on them yet again.
“Well, it looked great, from what I could see.”
“That’s high praise coming from you, flyboy.”
“Well, from one flyer to another…you’re a natural. Literally. You were born to be up there, doing that.”
You smiled, voice soft and sincere when you said, “So were you.”
“That means a lot, (Y/N).” He said, head turning downwards for a moment while he thought. “Anyway, uh, Finn and I were wondering if the two of you would join us at the cantina later? Rose’ll be there, too. Things have been so tense lately, we thought we could all blow off some steam.”
“I’d love to.”
Rey nodded. “Yeah, me too.”
“Just let me get changed into something more casual.” You said, flourishing the skirts of your Jedi robes.
“What, the robes aren’t fit for a night on the town?”
“The robes aren’t fit for…much other than looking solemn and kicking ass.” You said with a chuckle. “Unlike your flight suit, which is fit for any occasion.”
“Back to that, huh?” Poe grinned, letting out a laugh. “If you really like that thing so much, maybe I’ll wear it more often.”
You smirked. “I wouldn’t complain.”
“I would.” Finn chuckled. “It needs a good wash, buddy.”
“Alright, alright.”
You watched as Soren landed once again, wings powerful, stance strong. You gave him a nod, pride blossoming in your chest. He was getting there after all. Your training was working. You just hoped that, when danger came, he’d be ready for it.
You hoped you all would be.
Cards on the Table
You sat in your quarters with Rose and Rey, getting ready for your night out with the boys. You braided a few strands of your hair, tying them off with small gold rings at the end.
“This one?” Rey asked, holding the dress up against her frame, a sage green color. It was one of the ones you’d given her.
You nodded. “That color suits you. Brings out your eyes.”
Rey considered your words for a moment before beginning to change. Rose sat at your desk, looking through the accessories you’d pulled out. You plucked a pair of earrings from the collection, setting them in her palm.
“Are you sure? I’ve never worn a princess’ earrings before.” Rose said, staring at them. They were a pair of gold, dangling leaves. They’d go with the blouse she was wearing, a natural pattern on them.
“First time for everything.” You said with a shrug, turning your attention to your own outfit. A wine-colored top with a corset front, the back swooping just low enough for your wings. With it, you’d paired some dark brown pants with flared legs, a decorative gold belt made of metal hoops. You tucked your lightsaber into your bag, instead of displaying it at your hip.
“Oh this…” Rey struggled with the back of her dress. “I can’t get it to stay closed.”
“Here, let me.” You walked over and pulled ribbons from the sides of the dress, tying it closed above the large divot for where your wings went when you had worn it. “I sewed these in for Leia. She and I shared a closet during the Rebellion, more or less.”
Rey’s eyes scanned down her reflection, hands smoothing out the green fabric. “Thank you.”
“You look great.” You told her, words warm and reassuring. “You both do.”
“So do you!” Rose complimented.
A few minutes later, you decided you were ready, not that there was any pressure to be. This was just Finn and Poe you were talking about after all. But you had a feeling quite a few other members of the Resistance crew would be there.
The three of you arrived and it felt like time stopped. Poe and Finn were in a round booth in the corner and they both looked up, faces lit with anticipation at the sight of you. It felt good to be wearing something other than your robes or your standard Resistance gear, a luxury you did not take lightly.
They stood up and crossed the room, meeting you somewhere in the middle. Poe was wearing that leather jacket of his, the one you’d mistaken him for Han Solo in. Beneath it, a button-up that seemed to be missing a few buttons. You swore he was doing it on purpose.
“Hey, Princess.” He grinned. “Glad you made it.”
“Wouldn’t miss it.”
Several Resistance folks milled about, dancing, playing games. A few droids manned the bar, where there were paper lanterns strung from the support beams, casting the room in warm, ambient light.
The five of you shimmied back into the booth, Poe going almost out of his way to make sure he got the seat next to yours, right on the end. His arm settled on the seat behind you, that strong sandalwood scent drifting from his pulse point. Maker, you could get lost in it.
When the droid taking drink orders came around, you each requested something, settling in for a nice, casual night.
A song you recognized came over the speakers in the corners of the room and you smiled. It was familiar. A place like this, people like these.
The more things changed…
“I requested some oldies for you.” Poe confessed, just about causing your heart to melt. “Thought it’d remind you of the good old days.”
“He put ten whole credits in the jukebox.” Finn tattled, earning a pointed look from the pilot. “Stood there forever picking out songs.”
“Well that was very sweet.” You said, leaning a little closer to him subconsciously. “Not to sound incredibly old, but the new music is still…growing on me, we’ll say.”
“How old were you?” Finn asked. “I’m sorry if that’s rude. I don’t think we’ve ever asked.”
“I’m twenty-four. I’ll be twenty-five in…well, I don’t know when my birthday falls now. Four months? Three months? Something like that. Give or take thirty years, of course.”
“You’re younger than me.” Poe murmured, almost in shock of the fact.
He’d taken it for granted, he guessed, just how young you were when they’d put you in that pod. But you’d existed his entire life, etched into legends and stories told by anyone who remembered the war. To him, you’d existed forever. But he was older than you, by eight years.
“Were you…alive when I was?” You asked, running the numbers in your mind.
“I’m thirty-two.” He said, meeting your eyes. There was an odd look in them, like he was asking permission for something. He chuckled, covering the flash of insecurity with a smirk and a quip. “I know I hardly look it.”
“You would have been really young, then.” You bit your lip, letting out a little laugh at the new information. The whole situation was ridiculous. You doubted your paths had ever crossed, so it didn’t matter, ultimately, but still. “That is a little weird.”
“It is.” Poe agreed, eyes still ever-searching yours for some sign that it was still okay, the feelings floating around his heart.
“That means you really are the Han of the group.” You said, in an attempt to diffuse the tension that had blossomed in his chest. It worked. You could feel it instantly. “He was like thirty and the rest of us were in our twenties.”
“Does that make you Leia this time?” Rey asked, catching your eyes, a spark of mischief in her gaze. She knew exactly what she was implying.
“I think it does. Which means you get to be me this time. Congratulations, you are now a princess. Use the title well.” You joked, sitting back against the cushioned bench, also, coincidentally, against Poe’s arm, which was still there, perched on the leather. Warmth emanated from him, both literally and figuratively.
Eventually, the drinks came and you took a few sips of yours, loosening up. You all chatted and joked and laughed. Eventually, Rey and Rose got up to dance with the mechs over on the dance floor. Finn followed behind them.
Jessika spotted you and motioned you over, a broad grin on her face. Beside her was Aspen. Snap was there, too. They were hanging out near the holodart board mounted to the wall.
“Wanna play some darts?” Poe smirked, following your eyeline.
“If you’re ready to get your ass kicked, sure.” You teased, getting out of the booth after him and walking over to where his friends were waiting.
“You look great, girl!” Jessika said. “Give us a spin.”
You did a little twirl, showing off the top, the pants, the accessories. Your wings fluttered behind you like a cape, folded down and out of the way, as they always were.
“Dameron said he was gonna try to get you out here tonight.” Snap said, jostling his buddy’s shoulder. “Glad you joined us.”
“Do you guys do this often?”
“Not often enough.” Aspen said with a laugh, perched criss-cross on a barstool. “But our schedules have us all wound up tighter than a drum. I think we all needed to let off some steam.”
“How have things been for you guys? Missions running smoothly?”
“As ever.” Jessika said. “Thanks, of course, to our fearless commander.”
“Stop, stop, you’re too kind.” Poe said, playfully brushing off his shoulder. “It helps that I have the best team in the galaxy at my disposal.”
Snap motioned you closer, handing you a glowing dart. “Alright, enough chitchat. I want the Jedi on my team.”
“That is not fair.” Poe protested immediately. “It’s only fair if she’s on my team.”
“Sorry, Poe, I’ve been spoken for.” You shrugged, throwing the dart and landing in the outer ring of the bullseye.
Snap’s face lit up and he high-fived you.
“That’s gotta be cheating.” Jessika said, looking to Aspen, who was serving, apparently, as the referee. Pilots took their holodarts very seriously, after all. “Ref, tell her she’s cheating.”
“No, if I was cheating, it would look like this.” You took a second dart from Snap, covered your eyes with one hand, and threw the dart, using the Force to pull it through an exaggerated loop-de-loop on its way to the board, where it hit dead on in the center. You lowered your hand and shrugged innocently. “I just genuinely have pretty decent aim, as hard as it is to believe.”
“She’s pretty and she’s got a sense of humor. You’re a goner, Dameron.” Snap said, elbowing him while you were distracted, laughing with Aspen and Jessika.
Poe chuckled, crossing his arms, eyes teeming with tenderness. “Believe me, pal, I know.”
***
The night went on. You had a few more drinks, toeing the line between tipsy and drunk, but not quite getting all the way there. You and Poe continued to dance around each other, but he didn’t make a move. Well, any further than he already had. But after watching him interact with some of his friends, you’d come to realize that he was a touchy guy. It was definitely his love language.
You sang some songs at the karaoke machine in the corner of the room, sharing the stage with Rose, who had a really good voice, as it turned out.
At the end of the evening, when the crowd began to dwindle, Poe walked you back to your quarters. You, somewhat clumsily, punched in your code, the doors sliding open smoothly. You lingered in the doorway, turning to look at him.
“Thanks for taking me out, Dameron.” You said, breaking the warm silence that threatened to swallow your moment. “I had a great time.”
“Thanks for coming. I, uh…” He reached for your hand and you gave it to him, letting him fiddle with your fingers. It was comforting, his touch. You doubted you’d ever tire of the feeling of those calloused palms against yours. “If you were serious about that joyride…I’m taking it up tomorrow. Little test-drive, checking perimeters. Two porgs, one stone, you know. It’ll still be a tight fit, if that’s alright.”
“Well we both know I have no problem with getting close to you, Dameron.” You teased, giving his hand a squeeze. “What time are you picking me up?”
“After breakfast? Or…well, whenever works. I know you’re busy.”
You nodded, eyes glimmering. “After breakfast works.”
You could feel it again, that warmth sweltering in Poe’s chest. That desire laced deep in his eyes. He was thinking about kissing you. The fantasy playing out in your mind, you weren’t sure if it was yours or his, at this point.
Him, grabbing you by the hip, burying a hand in your hair, kissing you fiercely, passionately, lips exploring every inch of your own. Hungrily. Like he’d been waiting for it. You heard the way his breath hitched, felt his large, warm hand wander further up your back, towards the base of your wings as he kissed you. Cards on the table, heart on his sleeve.
But he didn’t. Didn’t move, aside from giving your hand another squeeze.
You smiled at him, still reeling from the images that had just flashed through your mind, but doing your best to hide the way your heart was racing. “It’s a date.”
These Haunted Wounds
You woke with a start not long after you drifted off. An hour or two at most. Nightmares. Figured.
This time, it was about a different saber. A red one, two little offshoots on the side of the hilt. It looked dangerous. Poorly constructed, if you were honest. One wrong move and the wielder would slice their own hand off by mistake.
No, the scary part was the guy wielding it. Long, foreboding figure, black cloak that drifted in the wind. He wore a mask over his face, voice deepened by a modulator of some kind. It brought back memories in all the wrong ways.
Despite the fact that you hadn’t seen him yet, didn’t know what he looked like, you could just tell. This was Kylo Ren. Had to be. That type of energy could only come from someone who was trying his damndest to stand in the shadow of Darth Vader, an entity you were still all too familiar with.
Luke had made his peace with the guy. You had never gotten that opportunity.
Kylo swished his cape and from his shadow came Insidia, still haunting you after all these years. She plunged her saber into your heart, the pain scorching and real, a scream tearing itself from your throat, and that was when you woke in a cold sweat.
You sat there, hands shaking, heart racing, collecting yourself before trying to lay down to sleep again. Just as you were about to lay back down, there was a knock on your door. Eyebrows furrowing, you swung your legs out of the bed, crossing the room and opening the door with a click of a button on the wall panel.
Poe was standing there in his sweatpants, panting, armed with a piece of a pipe. It was clear he’d run there. “What happened? Are you alright?”
“Huh?” You asked, rubbing at your bleary eyes. You stopped, staring at his bare, toned chest for maybe too long before meeting his gaze. “I’m fine.”
He lowered the pipe. “Oh. I heard screaming.”
Had you screamed out loud? Maybe you had. Maybe you’d projected it on accident, through the Force.
“It was just a nightmare.” You reassured him. You chuckled when you looked at the pipe hanging from his grip. “Nice.”
“Hey, I could do some real damage with this thing.” He defended, giving it a test swing to demonstrate.
“Oh I bet.” You gave a tired smile, let out a sigh, that spot in your chest burning, where Insidia had stabbed you in this dream.
She’s dead. You reminded yourself. She can’t hurt me anymore because she’s dead.
“Do you want to talk about it?”
“Same old.” You shrugged. “Stabbed with a lightsaber this time. Right through the chest.”
He frowned, nodding. “Is there anything I can do?”
“I’ll be okay.” You promised him. “But thank you for rushing to my rescue. Very daring of you, Commander.”
“Any time.”
You could feel that he wanted to stay. But you could tell he wasn’t going to ask. Ever the gentleman in the presence of a princess. It was kind of refreshing. You smiled at him. “Get some sleep, flyboy. See you in the morning.”
“You too. Goodnight.” He smiled. He held up the pipe in his hand. “I better go put this back.”
You laughed, watching as he walked back down the hallway. He glanced back at you, meeting your eyes before returning to the room he shared with Finn.
A soft smile pulled at your lips and you lingered in the hallway for a moment before closing your door and walking back to your bunk. You sat there, wondering what it would have been like if you asked him to stay. It wasn’t that you didn’t want him to, but…maybe there was a reason he was waiting.
Maybe he was waiting until after the war to get attached. That would be smart. You knew so many during the Rebellion who did just that.
Some hashed everything out in the heat of the war, sure. It was hard to get comfortable. It was hard to know which base would be your last, which fight would end it all. Some people chased comfort, wanting to get close to each other while they had the chance.
But others wanted to wait, to make sure they were going to make it to see the peace after the war, and whatever relationship, whatever life awaited them after.
You rolled onto your side, staring at the wall. You wonder if he knew the way he had his hand wrapped around your heart, a little X-Wing orbiting it around and around.
Tomorrow, you promised yourself. Tomorrow you’d say something, up in the X-Wing with him. Arms around you, chest pressed against your back, legs tangled in the cockpit. And one way or the other, you’d finally have your answer.
This time, when you fell asleep, the only thing you dreamt of were his lips.
The Crash
The next morning, Poe met you and the others for breakfast, already dressed in his orange jumpsuit, the collar flipped open. You could not keep the smile off your face at the sight.
“I can’t believe this is really what does it for you.” He laughed, drunk off the look in your eyes.
“It suits you.” You said, eyes lingering on the collar, fighting the urge to reach out and fix it. You rummaged around your mind for some quip to fire back, but came up empty. He’d stolen the words right from your mouth.
The group of you finished eating and Poe cleared your plate, leading you towards the hangar.
“I don’t have it painted yet, but the mechs checked over it yesterday and gave me the okay.” Poe explained.
“So we’re not going to crash, is what you’re saying.”
“Not with a Jedi on board.” He said, eyes meeting yours. “I still think about that transport you caught. I didn’t know you could just…do that.”
“Took a while to get to that point. Ships are heavy. It helps if I’m not fighting the trajectory. Laesynda’s ship was on its way down, I just…cushioned the fall.” You explained.
“You’re real humble for a Jedi, you know.”
“You think so?”
“More humble than I would be if I could lift spacecrafts with my mind.”
“Oh I’m aware, flyboy. If you were out here with a lightsaber, none of us would ever hear the end of it.” You teased, looking over his flightsuit, still enamored. “You’re already an ace pilot, you can’t possibly have all the skills.”
He opened his mouth to retort, but was cut off by the harsh blare of a distress signal. The two of you looked at each other before booking it to the strategy table, where Leia was, hand still over the button.
“It’s one of our settlements. First Order troops on the ground, TIE fighters.” She made eye contact with you, Rey running into the room right after. “Kylo is with them.”
She dispatched groups of fighters, sent you and Rey and sent out the Black Squadron. Poe marched through the hangar, yelling orders, getting his team ready for battle. You forced your eyes away from him as he loaded BB-8 into his X-Wing, strapped your saber to your belt, and loaded onto a transport with Rey and Finn.
Soren walked over, saber at the ready. You stopped him with a shake of your head, something akin to a maternal look in your eye. “I need you here. It’s just Kylo. Rey and I can handle him.”
“I’m ready.”
“I know you are.” You said, hands on his shoulders. “That’s why I need you here. Someone’s gotta protect the base.”
He nodded, understanding. He took a few steps back, standing with the others as they saw you all off.
You made eye contact with Poe, one last lingering glance before he climbed into the cockpit and took off into the sky, blasting off at lightspeed with the rest of his squadron to clear way for your transport.
The ramp of the transport closed and Finn looked at you. “He’s like you. Soren.”
“Reckless?” You asked.
He shook his head, eyes serious and warm. “Brave.”
You smiled at the thought and put a hand on Finn’s arm. “So are you.”
The ride was short, but shaky. You didn’t like turbulence, especially in a craft that only had thin, tiny windows. It left you uneasy. But eventually, you touched down, saber in hand, leading the charge with Rey.
There were dozens of Stormtroopers, opening fire on not only the scattered Resistance members, but any civilians they could get their hands on. You put yourself between them, deflecting their shots with a few swings of the saber. The fighters that had come with you ran out of the ship, assessing the situation and adjusting as quickly as possible.
In the air, a battle had broken out as well, X-Wings and TIE fighters firing at each other, as well as the ground below them. You tried to identify which ship was Poe’s. You could feel him up there, but it was hard to get a lock. All you knew was that it was a black ship, an orange stripe painted down the side. Black Squadron.
Another trooper shot at you you and you shifted into battle mode. You used the Force to mow over a row of troopers, pushing them onto their backs in the dirt and leaving them scrambling to get back to their feet. One came at you with a melee weapon, electrified, but you did away with it quickly, using the Force to throw him at a tank, the force of it taking out the canon with a loud explosion.
More troopers focused their aim on you and quickly met the same fate.
Overhead, an X-Wing twirled around, almost drifting through the air and taking out one, two, three TIE fighters in quick succession, firing at a cluster of troopers on the ground immediately after. That had to be Poe.
Another turret fired near the civilians and you ran towards it, using your wings to get some height and jumping up the length of it, burying your saber in the metal paneling on the side and riding it back down to the ground as it was destroyed in a cloud of fire and smoke.
Finn ushered civilians to safety, taking out any troopers that got close with a well-placed blast. Rey worked with you to take out the remaining turrets, keeping the troopers at bay as more of them unloaded from landing transports.
You heard a boom overhead and looked, hoping to see a TIE fighter on its way down, but instead catching sight of an X-Wing, black and orange, one of its engines engulfed in flames.
You reached up and caught it with the Force, directing it away from the thick trees it was aimed towards and turning the nose, bringing it down gently in a clearing of grass and dirt, away from the immediate violence on the sprawling battlefield. You didn’t have time to worry if it might be Poe climbing out of it. Didn’t even have time to think before you saw him.
Kylo Ren.
His saber glowed red, contrasting against the lush green of the planet you were standing on, his kyber crystal obviously damaged, the way its blade was flared. He’d forced it too hard, been too rough with it. Maybe that was why the offshoots were there, to redirect the excess energy.
He was dressed like a shadow, long and sleek, all in black, face covered up by that helmet. It was better that way. You were afraid of finding too much of your friends in his broken gaze. Leia. Han. In another life, you may have been something like an aunt to him. Now he stood in front of you, a monster.
And he was headed right towards you, strides long and elegant.
“Mothim said you were awake, your Highness. It’s time to see if you really are the thing of legends.” He twirled his saber, voice distorted beyond anything human. An intimidation tactic, no doubt, in addition to the obvious imitation of one Darth Vader.
“Ah yes, my best friend’s biggest disappointment. I keep hearing about you, and I have to admit. You’re a lot taller than I expected.”
He raised his hand attempting to use the Force to…you weren’t sure. Grab you, choke you, but you had your shields up, always did, blocking out his attempt. “You’re good.”
“I have to be.” You replied, readying your saber, stretching out your neck.
He swung at you and you deflected, angling carefully to avoid the reach of the flares near the hilt of his saber. So that’s what they were for. One wrong move and it would be your hand he was slicing off. You countered, using your wings to spin into position, leveraging an attack that he dodged, his saber clashing loudly with your own.
“Tell me, did you really face Vader by yourself, or did you have Skywalker to help you?” He locked his saber with your own, mask uncomfortably close to your face. “Skywalker is dead now. I saw to that myself. I finished the work that Vader could not.”
You let out a cold laugh at that. “You’re not Vader. You’re not even close.”
That definitely pissed him off. He let out a strangled yell, running at you with full force. You dodged with a leap, spinning out of the way. He took the opportunity to take a swing at your wings, which flared in reply, flattening themselves out of his reach. Your foot swept through the dirt as you landed, breaking your somewhat clumsy fall.
That had been a targeted attack. Straight for the wings. Not your arm. Not your saber. Your wings.
Rey came over next, putting herself between the two of you, battling him with a rage you knew had to be personal. You could feel that they were connected. Always had been. There were layers here that you did not quite understand yet. But she still fought him, moves quick and deliberate and instinctual.
You jumped back in alongside her, red clashing against blue and pink, sparks flying. Some of the brush caught fire, but never fully ignited, instead filling the ground between you with smoke, partially obstructing the rest of the fight.
You landed a hit on his leg, slashing into the skin. Rey got him on the opposite arm and he let out a burst of Force energy that sent you both flying. You used your wings to recover, repositioning mid-air, an outstretched hand slowing Rey’s trajectory as well, just before the back of her head hit a tree.
“RETREAT!” Kylo screeched, his voice echoing through the trees, birds scattering at the loud, distorted cry.
You’d hurt him. Bad. You could see the blood pooling in the dirt as he stalked away.
The Stormtroopers and other forces retreated into the transports that hadn’t already been blown up. The remaining TIE fighters, few though there were, hopped to lightspeed. One of the X-Wings shot a few transports on their way into the atmosphere, but other than that, the fight was over.
You found Finn among the crowd, making sure he was uninjured. He was fine. There had been some injuries, but no casualties, even among the civilians, who were cheering and embracing, celebrating their safety for the moment.
You looked over at the crashed X-Wing, smoking at the edge of the field and ran over to it, wings carrying you farther and faster than you’d flown in years, just a handful of feet above the grass. You landed on one of the wings and used the Force to pop open the cockpit, the windshield cracked, the pilot still inside.
She tugged off her helmet, long brown hair cascading down her shoulders. Jessika. Not Poe.
You offered her a hand, helping her out. She looked up at you, awe in her eyes, her hand wrapping around yours. You used your wings to lower the both of you gently to the ground.
“Are you alright?”
“I swore I was going to crash. You…you saved my life.” She rushed into your arms and you held her, rocking her comfortingly. “How do I even begin to repay you for that?”
“You don’t. We’re all in this together.” You assured her, wiping some of the soot from her face with a gentle hand. “Now let’s get you back to base. I’m sure there’s lots of room for you on the transport.”
One of the Resistance members from the planet rushed over, putting out her smoking X-Wing engine with a fire extinguisher. “We’ll take care of this. Get it repaired as soon as possible.”
Jessika exchanged some words with the mech, arranging something of a plan to come get it before following you and the others back onto the transport.
“Are you alright?” You asked Rey, checking all your bases, counting faces and heads.
“I’m fine. Are you?”
“I’m good. He…I don’t know what he knows about Mariposans, but he was locked in on my wings.” You said, shivering at the thought. “Someone must have told him to aim there.”
“You think the First Order has a Mariposan?”
“Maybe.” You said. “He…he mentioned someone named Mothim. That’s…vaguely Mariposan-sounding.”
You watched the sky, the X-Wings rounding up. Jessika had her helmet tucked under her arm, which started talking, Poe’s voice coming through the headset. You could have cried with relief that he was alright.
“Pava, come in. Are you alive out there? We don’t have eyes on your X-Wing.”
“I’m alive, Black Leader. Boarding one of the transports on the ground. They hit me in the right wing, but one of the Jedi caught me on the way down.”
He chuckled and you could hear the smile in his voice when he said, “That is great news. We’ll see you back at base.”
You watched as the X-Wings took off, hitting lightspeed in rapid succession. Your own transport followed suit not long after, once everyone was accounted for and all the systems had been checked for damage. You breathed, focusing on the quiet until finally, the ship landed and the ramp lowered.
You walked out, surveying the crowd of celebrating rebels when you spotted BB-8 whirring at you at full speed, beeping a mile a minute. He looked you up and down and then sped away, straight to Poe, who looked down at him. His little head swivelled to you and back.
“(Y/N)!”
Poe sprinted over, pulling you into his arms the second he was close enough. He let out a long breath, his gloved hand cradling the back of your head as he held you. You wrapped your arms around him, resting your head against his shoulder, wings twitching before relaxing completely.
“You…you’re alright? I saw him go after you. I wanted to shoot, but I couldn’t get a clean shot.” He said, regret in his voice, guilt on his brow.
“I’m okay, Poe. Really.” You told him, pulling away for a moment to get a glimpse at his face, check him over for injuries. There was sweat dotted on his forehead, wetting the curls at the edge of his hairline. “I thought it was your ship coming down. I was so scared.”
He shook his head, taking a moment to peel off his gloves so he could touch your cheek with his hand, skin impossibly warm. He rested his forehead against yours, the movement familiar and comfortable. “You saved one of my pilots. I…just when I think you can’t possibly impress me more…”
You wanted to kiss him so badly. So, so badly. Just surge forward and collect his lips as he uttered his sweet, flattering words. You could tell he wanted it, too. That victory kiss.
“Poe…” You murmured, mouth impossibly close.
“I’m right here, baby.” He whispered in response, voice gentle, eyes soft. Sparkling with anticipation. “We’re okay.”
Your breath hitched at the petname, heart racing faster than his X-Wing. You repeated his words. “We’re okay.”
He nodded, closing his eyes for a moment. He took a long breath and then hooked an arm around your waist again, pulling you close as he pressed a long kiss to your cheek. He buried his face in your shoulder, inhaling what was left of your perfume, diluted, you were sure, by the smoke from the battle.
Mood lightening considerably once he’d processed that you were actually okay, that you’d won, that you and Rey had fought off Kylo Ren, he chuckled to himself, remembering your original plans for the day.
“Sorry about our date, but…she’s probably gonna need some repairs before I take her up again.” He looked back at his X-Wing, untangling himself from you, but keeping an arm anchored around your waist, just beneath the base of your wings. It tickled, where his orange sleeve touched the soft tissue, but you didn’t dare move him.
BB-8 beeped up at him, agitated.
“I was careful, Bee, why do you think we’re standing here?”
He beeped something complimentary of your performance out in the battle.
“Couldn’t have said it better myself.” He grinned, proud. “Really, you were awesome out there.”
“So were you, flyboy. I lost count of how many TIE fighters you took down. Are you sure you’re not Force sensitive?”
He smiled that prettyboy smile, reaching over to wipe some soot from your face, thumb moving deliberately, focused on one spot. “Pretty sure. I’ve just had a lot of practice.”
You saw Soren, ready to approach you, but giving you a minute with your pilot. You nodded at him, a promise that you’d be over there soon.
“I better check on my team. Make sure everyone’s in one piece.” Poe said, looking back towards the hangar where the pilots and mechs were conversing, figure out what all needed to be fixed after the skirmish. “Will, uh…would you grab dinner with me later? You know, since our date got rained out and all…”
You nodded, smiled at him. You put a hand on his cheek and guided him closer, pressing a kiss just beneath his scar. “Dinner sounds great. But when that ship is fixed, I better be first in line for that joyride you promised me.”
He laughed, nodding. “Absolutely, your Highness.”
You went your separate ways, his hand lingering on yours until the last possible second until you were finally pulled apart. And yet, as you met with the other members of the Resistance, talking over the battle, taking stock of everything, he was the only thing you could think of, the feeling of his lips still lingering against your cheek.
Vintage Diplomacy
After the battle, you spent the coming days doing strength training for your wings. Your flight across the ground had opened your eyes. If you could cover ground like that regularly, it could be lifesaving.
You’d spend mornings up in the clearing on the hill. Artoo found you up there once and asked what you were doing as you hovered, wings fluttering impossibly fast. You started with five second bursts, then ten, then twenty.
Artoo timed you, let you know when to stop. And that was how Poe found you one morning before a strategy meeting with the General, as well as her Admirals and Commanders. You’d been hovering for nearly a full minute, kicking up a small breeze in your wake.
You touched down when you saw him approaching, wings folding down with record speed as Artoo gave you the breakdown. Your longest yet. With more training, who knew? Maybe you could be the first Mariposan to rediscover the power of true flight. You could certainly hope.
You stretched out your back, hands on your hips stretching both ways. You hoped the soreness meant you were building muscle, if that was how that worked.
“Hey, Princess. Thought I might find you up here. You eat breakfast yet?”
“Yeah, I had something before I came out here.” You replied.
“Good. Meeting starts soon.”
“Thought so.” You glanced at your watch. “Shall we?”
“Lead the way.” He motioned. He was wearing a leather jacket you hadn’t seen on him yet. It was brown, a rebel patch on the shoulder. Definitely vintage.
“Cool jacket.”
“You like it?” He asked with a smirk.
“Yeah. Is it vintage?”
“It is, actually. Good eye.” He rested his hands on his belt buckle. “Not as vintage as you, of course, your Highness.”
“Hey!” You elbowed him and he elbowed you back, both of you laughing as you strode into the meeting together.
A few eyes caught you, knowing looks exchanged between the other assembled people. You said some hellos, exchanged the necessary pleasantries. You greeted your sister, who smiled warmly when she saw you and Poe walk in together.
You were sure after your little, uh, victory celebration out in the middle of the base, that everyone there must have thought you were dating behind closed doors.
You wished they were right.
Poe sat with the pilots, but you could feel his eyes on you as you mingled with the folks filing into the seats around you. Rey, as always, took the seat next to yours. On your other side, Soren. There was always a certain energy to the room when the Jedi were all together. People paid attention.
Before long, General Organa started the meeting. The main topic of interest: Resistance allies, or the lack thereof.
Since the battle at Crait, Leia had been trying to get in contact with anyone she could think of, friends new and old, anyone the Resistance had helped, but responses were few and far between. The First Order had done their best to silence or…eliminate anyone who wasn’t loyal to them.
“What we’re running low on is hope.” Leia said. “The people don’t think we stand a chance against the First Order. They’d rather hide in fear than stand up and fight. And if we don’t find some allies soon…it’s a matter of time before they take us out. We’re already running on scraps here.”
Chewbacca roared out his support.
“More outreach.” Another Admiral suggested. “The people saw what we did for them in the Endor system, that we stand up for them when it matters. Hell, we got twenty new recruits from that battle alone. When people see the difference we make, they want to fight with us.”
“I think our next move needs to be diplomacy, General. It’s been a while since we’ve had representatives at any events raising awareness.” Your sister reasoned. “How are they supposed to know we’re still here if they never see us?”
“But who would go?” Leia asked, scanning the room. “Diplomatic training hasn’t been very high on our regimen, I’m afraid.”
“I can go.” You volunteered. The eyes in the room fell on you quickly, like they’d been expecting you to say it. “The First Order already knows I’m alive, our allies should, too. They think we have one Jedi, we have three. I think that would spark quite a bit of hope, General. Besides, I have the diplomatic training and I never get to use it.”
She smiled, eyes sparkling. “I was hoping you’d say that. I did catch wind of a gala. It’s…mostly safe. Former Rebel sympathizers, a formal event. It would be as good a place as ever to make a debut. You’ll need a pilot of course, to–”
“I’ll go, General.” Poe volunteered before anyone else even had the chance. “I’ll escort the princess. It would be my honor.”
Leia gave a small, professional smile that you could tell she was all she could do to keep from laughing at the sheer speed with which he offered himself up for the mission. She thought about making him fight for it, and she knew he would. Poe Dameron was nothing if not stubborn, ambitious. It was why she respected him so much.
And at the same time, she knew exactly what would happen if she sent the two of you there, together. Alone.
Maybe it was about time.
“Great. Get packed. It’s tonight, three systems out. Take the Falcon.”
***
After the meeting, you went straight to your quarters, shuffling through your closet for anything…formal. You had a lot of Jedi robes, that was for sure, which might have suited an event like this in the olden days, before even your time, but now…all it would ensure was that you would stick out more than you already did.
“Thought I’d find you here.” Laesynda said, standing in the doorway. “I might have something that’ll work.”
You followed her to her quarters. She opened her wardrobe and pushed aside some clothes, reaching for something specific. She pulled it out with a flourish. A long, midnight blue gown. Off the shoulder. It glittered like stars and truly did look fit for a princess to wear. With it, she had a silver circlet, some silver Mariposan cuff bracelets.
“Mom’s…” You remembered, a hand drifting down the sparkling fabric.
Laesynda nodded. “I’ve been saving it for a special occasion. Maybe I knew you’d need it someday.”
“Thank you.”
“Of course. Now, let’s get you dressed. Sounds like you have a flight to catch.”
Laesynda helped you into the gown, adjusting the flowing fabric so it sat just so, helping to slip your wings through the slot sewn in specifically for them. It was nice, wearing Mariposan garb again, something you didn’t have to adjust in order to wear comfortably.
She put your hair in a simple style, braiding the front pieces back, setting the circlet on your head. You put on the cuffs, put on a silver belt and strapped your saber to it, the final piece of the puzzle. The metal tones clashed, but maybe that was okay. It would stand out, at the very least.
“How do I look?”
“Like a princess.” She replied, a hand reaching out to touch your face. “And like Mom.”
You couldn’t help but tear up a little bit when she said it. She carefully tucked a stray piece of hair behind your ear, giving a final nod. You were ready.
You stopped back into your room, packed a bag with some essentials. Among your things, you found your wooden box of Rebel memorabilia. Pins, cuff links, a pair of dangling silver earrings. You tucked it into the bag as well, along with another change of clothes for after the party. As gorgeous as the gown was, you doubted you’d want to be in it all night. You knew how these kinds of parties went. They were long and socially exhausting. You’d be longing for those Resistance standard sweatpants at the end of it.
There was a knock on the doorframe, your door still open. You expected it to be Laesyndra, having forgotten something. Instead, it was Poe, holding a garment bag that you assumed contained his formal wear.
“Tried to get the General let me take my flight suit out for ya, but she wasn’t having it. You ready for–” He stared, voice dropping off once he spotted you, dressed in a dazzling, midnight gown. “Oh. Wow…”
“Ready for…?” You raised an eyebrow, walking closer with slow strides.
“For takeoff?” He asked, Adam’s apple bobbing, eyes half-lidded. “Chewie warmed up the Falcon for us.”
You smiled warmly, nodding. “All packed, Commander. Ready when you are.”
“Perfect. Right. Well, let’s…” He offered his arm and you took it, slipping your arm through his, your bag slung over the other shoulder.
You gave his bicep a playful squeeze, laughter bubbling out of your painted lips. “Loth-cat got your tongue, Dameron? It’s just me.”
He let out a chuckle, meeting your eyes. “That’s the problem, your Highness.”
This Changes Everything
Your friends saw you off, complimenting you endlessly. Rey and Rose demanded you twirl around, showing off the look, which you gladly did.
“You look dazzling, Princess.” Threepio complimented, giving a little bow, arms poised at their odd angles.
“Thank you, Threepio. It was my mother’s.” You said, a sad, proud glimmer in your eye. Poe caught it immediately.
Artoo came with, but otherwise, it was just you and Poe in that big ship. He put in the coordinates, lifted off the planet, and put it into hyperdrive, with you in the passenger seat. Once it was on autopilot, you were free to move around the cabin.
Poe took his garment bag from one of the other seats and moved towards one of the Falcon’s tiny bed cabins to change. In the meantime, you found a mirror and put in a pair of earrings from your box of Rebel trinkets. They were the Rebellion’s symbol, silver and dangling from tiny chains. They completed the look.
Poe emerged a few minutes later, wearing a dark blue formal tunic, dramatic diagonal trim highlighting his shoulders. It was paired with matching navy pants, some black loafers with silver buckles.
“There was a hat, too, but I thought it would be too much.” He said, standing stiff while you looked him over, eyes roving his figure.
“Covering hair like that would be a crime, I think.” You told him, earning a chuckle and that dashing smile.
Your eyes lingered on the ends of his sleeves and you dug around in your box until you found a pair of cufflinks. You walked over to him, grabbing his hand and inserting one of the cufflinks into the end of his sleeve.
“Where’d you get this stuff?” He asked, watching your careful movements as you switched sleeves, putting the other one in as well.
“I’ve had it. Held onto it after the war. Figured we’d wear them to…charity events or something.” You shrugged. You rummaged around the box for a lapel pin, focused as you pinned it to one side of his tunic, straightening it with a quick movement. “Never thought we’d need them for war fundraising, but here we are…”
“My parents were Rebels, you know.” He confessed, voice soft, eyes softer. He’d been holding onto it, unsure why he’d never found the opportunity to tell you until now. Maybe he was afraid the information would shift your already teetering dynamic.
“Hence the jacket.” You noted, meeting his gaze, fingers still lingering on the pin. The wheels turned in your head and your jaw dropped, finally seeing it in his face. Those brows. That nose. Those eyes. “You’re…you’re Kes Dameron’s kid.”
He chuckled and nodded, eyes sparkling. “Yeah. I am. You knew him?”
“I did know him.” You laughed to yourself shaking your head. “Maker, I can’t believe I didn’t put those pieces together. He worked with Han and the pathfinders. I worked with Leia. It was kind of inevitable that our paths crossed. He was a great guy.”
“Is a great guy.” He said. “He still lives on Yavin. That’s where I grew up.”
You hummed, nodding. “That’s really good news, Poe. I’d…I’d love to see him sometime.”
“I’m sure he’d love to see you when all of this is over.” He said, eyes softening when he spoke of home, of family. “Mom was a pilot. Maybe you knew her. Her name was Shara.”
You gasped softly. “You’re…you’re Shara’s son? Shara Bey?”
Poe nodded, smiling. “I am.”
“Poe…I…” You teared up, studying him, dividing his features in your head, which had come from Shara, from Kes. You touched his face, laughed sadly, happy memories bubbling to the surface. “Shara was…so special. She was my bunkmate on Hoth. She and I kept watch together twice a week. We ate lunch together almost every day. We shared wine bottles at parties. I…I always thought there was something going on between her and Kes, but they kept it very professional. Didn’t know they were engaged until after the war.”
Poe got a little misty, nostalgia swirled in his warm brown eyes.
“We don’t have to talk about it, I’m sorry…”
He shook his head, taking your hand and kissing the back of it. “You were there. I always forget you were there. I can’t believe you knew them…”
“Maker, I could tell you so many stories…”
“I want you to. I want to hear all about them when we get home.”
“Okay.” You nodded, shedding a single tear that he was quick to wipe away, pulling you into a hug instead.
He pressed a long kiss to the crown of your head, arms tight around your shoulders, yours wrapped around his middle. You listened to his heart, hammering away beneath his tunic. You felt his lips on your forehead again, lingering for longer this time before he rested his head against yours, swaying slightly with you in his hold.
Eventually, Artoo rolled into the room, beeping to let you know you were getting close.
“Thank you, Artoo.”
He complimented Poe’s pin with a series of beeps and Poe grinned and thanked him.
“Here, I’ve probably got a magnet in here you can wear.” You said, rummaging through your box until you found one. You knelt down and he rolled forward, letting you stick it to one of his panels.
He beeped and whirred in approval, asking how he looked.
“You look very sharp.” You assured him. “You fit right in, now.”
Poe wandered into the cockpit, standing between the back row of seats, watching as the stars flew by at lightspeed. You stepped in after him and he wrapped an arm around your shoulders without a second thought.
He was your pilot, you were his princess. That was all that mattered. You rested your head against him, watching the stars.
***
The gala was being held at a nice hotel, chandeliers glimmering above, painted portraits hanging on the wall and abstract sculptures sitting on pedestals. It reminded you of home, in a way, if Mariposas had been colorless and stiff. There was soft music playing, a band tucked into the corner of the room. Poe took your arm, escorting you through the room of senators and leaders, former Rebellion members.
It was clear that this gala was pretending to be something it was not. On the outside, it had been bolstered as an academy class reunion, probably to drive off any First Order loyalists, keep them off the trail, inside was a completely different story.
You knew these people. A lot of them, wrinkled and graying though they were. Pathfinders, pilots, ground fighters, comm techs…these had been your brothers and sisters on base, and a decent amount of them, seemingly, had bloomed into important people in their own right.
What was holding them back from helping, you wondered, scanning the room. Maybe it was just the fear of the First Order, of making themselves vulnerable just to be eliminated without a second thought. But as the eyes in the room found you, the whispers picked up, speculating how it was you were there, standing there, living and breathing after all this time.
“How’s that for a first impression…” Poe murmured, just loud enough for you to hear, watching the way these legends reacted to seeing you.
“Time to finally use these stares and whispers to our advantage.” You said, leading him over to a corner where some former fighters were standing. You picked one from the crowd, calling his name to your mind. After all, it had only been two years since you’d seen him.
“Y-your Highness?” He asked, looking you up and down. He glanced at the others, as if to make sure you weren’t some Force Ghost standing there in front of him, that they were seeing it too. “I thought you were…”
“Dead? Lots of folks seem to think so.” You replied, offering your hand, which he shook vigorously. “It’s good to see you, Lieutenant. How’s Marsha?”
That was how it started. You navigated through the room, a walking myth.
Once you made your rounds, Poe at your side, chatting with the people gathered there, you felt a tap on your arm and turned to find him. Lando Calrissian in the flesh.
“I was wondering if I might steal a dance, Princess. If you’re not too busy with the Commander here.” Lando motioned to Poe, whose mouth fell open at his sudden appearance.
“Lando!” You all but jumped into his arms, captured quickly in a tight hug. He swayed back and forth, laughing.
“Maker, Leia was right. You really haven’t aged a day.” He said, taking a moment to look at you. He spun you around. “Can’t say the same for the rest of us.”
“You look great Lando. I was wondering when I’d finally get to see you. How have you been?”
“Oh, same old. Leia tipped me off about this…reunion. Thought I could help finally win these stuffy old guys over.”
“No such luck, I’m guessing.” Poe said, scanning the room.
“Not yet.” Lando winked at you. “That’s why she sent her secret weapon.”
“Not so secret anymore.” You said, trying to ignore all the eyes in your peripheral vision.
Lando introduced and reintroduced you to a handful of old colleagues. One of them, a senator now, stiffened at the sight of you, looking you up and down.
“Leia…dressed you up just like her. It would be convincing, if not for the fake wings.” He said with a sneer. “Almost had me there for a second.”
You chuckled softly, malice creeping into your eyes. “Fake wings?” You repeated, raising them slightly.
“I’ve seen them in action, Senator. I assure you, these things are the real deal.” Poe said, expression guarded, tone painfully casual.
Artoo beeped something at him, agitated, but the senator batted a hand. “I don’t speak droid.”
“I can’t translate what he said anyway, it’s hardly appropriate for an event like this.” You said with a laugh. “Do you need another drink?”
“That’s not–” He started to argue, but you held out a hand, using the Force to pull a champagne flute from across the room. It glided smoothly through the air and hovered in front of him. He stared at it, dropping the empty glass in his own hand. He looked up at you in horror as Poe laughed. “You’re her.”
“Obviously.” You replied, plucking the drink from the air and handing it to him. “I know it’s hard to believe. It’s a long story, but I was saved by one very daring pilot, a Jedi, and a fighter after a long time asleep. Imagine my surprise at waking up to another war.”
He shook his head, brows furrowed. “What war?”
“The First Order. The Resistance. Are you unaware of the conflicts, or just too callous to care this time, elevated position and all?” You asked.
“The need for fighting is over.” He said, shaking his head. “I had my war, I’m sure we can all just live in peace.”
“Senator, I don’t know if you’ve been out there, but it’s bad.” Poe said, eyes serious. “What they did to the New Republic…”
“Was a horrible incident, I’m sure, but that doesn’t mean we can all just…hop in an X-Wing and blow things up.”
You laughed at that. “You didn’t even do that the first time. You failed your flight test, if I remember correctly, Senator. Was it two times, or three?”
He scoffed, clearly offended. “Well, I–”
Poe’s eyes lit up, watching as you warmed up to take your shot.
“Don’t you remember what things were like? Under the Empire? Maybe it’s been too long for you. I know thirty years is a long time to hold onto memories, but…it’s only been two years for me. Two years since the Battle of Endor. Two years of quiet after. I remember how bad it was and this is worse. The weapons they have, the forces, the numbers. They have a Sith trying to outshine Darth Vader and Maker knows what else hidden on those Star Destroyers. They are taking children and ruining lives. One of our best friends is a former trooper. I wish he was here to tell you himself the horrors he’s seen aboard those vessels. They can destroy planets with a few button presses. Maybe you feel safe right now. Maybe you’re playing into their pocket, who knows, but someday, they’ll turn on you, too, and there will be no one left to protect you because you didn’t help the Resistance fight back.”
The room fell silent, every ear tuning into your fiery words. Lando let out a proud little laugh.
Someone across the room stepped forward, meeting your eyes. Wedge. Wedge Antilles. One of the best Rebel pilots there was. He’d been great friends with Luke, so you’d known him pretty well. It was good to see he was still around.
“Well, your Highness, where do we sign up?”
***
After a few more hours of networking, of Poe handing out tokens for further communication, taking pledges and handing out contact information for any people they knew who’d like to enlist in the Rebellion, the three of you–you, Poe and Artoo, that is–said your goodbyes and headed back to the ship.
As soon as the ramp was closed, Poe’s face broke into a victorious smile and he took you in his arms, lifting you off the ground and spinning you around. Laughter bubbled from your lips.
“That was insane!” A triumphant laugh escaped him. “You flipped that whole room in less than a minute! I…I…” He set you down, unable to wipe the smile from his face. “I can’t believe that just happened. This changes…everything. We’re gonna have so many new recruits. We’re gonna be able to get so many supplies…”
“New pilots?” You asked.
“New X-Wings. New ships. New blasters. Kriff, new uniforms, even.” He smiled, grabbing onto your arms, just above the flowing, off-the-shoulder sleeves. “Wow, I dunno, I had my doubts when Leia sent me four systems out for a shiny rock, but…I don’t know what we’d do without you here.” He met your eyes, took a step closer, dipped his head down. “I don’t know what I’d do without you here…”
You couldn’t do it anymore. You couldn’t dance around him and pretend your heart wasn’t on fire just looking at him.
You wrapped your arms around his neck and tugged him closer, lips capturing his easily, as you had in your fantasies so many times. He gasped into your mouth, arms winding around your waist and pulling you against him, lips passionate and experienced. Poe held you there with one arm, the other traveling up into your hair.
Your nose brushed against his as he twisted, getting an even better angle, teeth nipping at your lip. You reached up and cupped his cheek, thumb brushing through the stubble accumulated there.
He pulled back, forehead against yours, breaths ragged as his eyes searched your face, looking for some evidence that that had happened, that it was real this time.
“Say something,” you whispered, hand still anchored against his cheek, eyes sparkling with insecurity. “Please.”
“Give me a second. I’ve never kissed a princess before.” He murmured, kissing your forehead, then your cheeks, pressing another long one to your lips. Soft, but filled with so much passion. He let out a breathy chuckle, meeting your eyes. “Maker, you have no idea how many times I’ve dreamed of doing that.”
You bit your lip, a guilty little smile twisting your mouth. “Actually, about that…”
Poe’s eyes widened, jaw dropping before the shock melted into an embarrassed grin. “You…you could feel it, huh? The whole time?”
“More or less.” You confessed. You pulled him back into you and he didn’t resist, nose brushing yours as you whispered, “I couldn’t tell if they were your fantasies or mine, to be honest.”
He stepped forward, cupping your cheek as he captured your lips again, hungrier this time, lit up by your words, by your confession, that you had felt this way about him for just as long as he’d been drawn to you.
Another step forward and your exposed back touched the cold metal of a wall panel, one of Poe’s hands taking yours, fingers interlacing as he held it up against the wall. His other hand tugged your waist closer, closer, closer, like he was trying to fuse the two of you into one person.
You crooned, hooking your arm around his neck, keeping him there.
“Tell me to stop,” he rasped, lips trailing down your neck before crushing against yours again. “Use one of your Jedi Mind Tricks or something.”
“I can’t.” You laughed against him. “They wouldn’t work on you anyway and…I don’t want you to stop.”
“Well good, because I don’t think I can…” He said with a chuckle, nose smushed against yours. He kissed you again, movements tender and slow, smiling against you when he heard your breath hitch. “I thought Jedi weren’t allowed to fall in love. I would have done this so much sooner…”
You laughed. “That’s what was stopping you? I thought you weren’t afraid of bending the rules, Commander.”
Poe let out a breath, smirking. “Well yeah, but…you’re a princess. I thought you might not be so keen on rulebreaking.”
“Well the good news is, there aren’t any rules against Jedi falling in love anymore.” You murmured, resting your forehead against his, hands tugging on the trim of his tunic. “But if there were…I would break them for you, Poe Dameron.”
He grinned that flyboy grin, going in for one last kiss, then another, then one final, lingering kiss, stealing the breath from your lungs, the butterflies in your stomach flying loop-de-loops that rivaled any maneuver he could pull off with his X-Wing.
Soon, you knew you’d have to fly back to base, update Leia on the progress you’d made, return to your schedules and duties.
But now, you shared your breaths with him, heart racing as he cupped your cheeks, whispering sweet words against your lips, promises to steal away more time together as soon as the Maker would allow.
A Little Rebel Spirit
Poe slept in your bed that night.
Your mattress was hardly big enough for one of you let alone both of you, but he didn’t mind, changing out of his formal tunic, carefully returning your Rebellion trinkets to their special little box, and laying in your bed, watching you, hands folded on his toned tan chest, the chain around his neck glimmering against his skin.
You’d changed into some sleep shorts and a tanktop you’d modified for your wings. When you turned to face him again in the dim bedroom, he gasped, eyes falling on your thigh. More specifically, the large tattoo piece stretched across your skin.
“You have a tattoo?” He asked, almost scandalized. “Princess, I knew you were a Rebel, but I didn’t know you were so rebellious.”
“You wanna know what’s rebellious…Leia did this.” You said, fingers skimming over the artwork.
His jaw dropped. “No fucking way.”
“Yes way.” You nodded, walking over to the bed and sat beside him, propping your leg atop his so he could see better.
He ran a large hand over the tattoo, the sheer warmth of his touch sending shivers down your spine. “When?”
“Three years ago.” You answered, before correcting “Thirty-three years ago. We were on some planet, there was a market and she got a tattoo gun for like…twelve credits, which should have been the first red flag.”
“And you let her do that?” He asked, laughing.
“Well yeah. She’s my best friend. I knew it would drive my parents nuts, their second in line for the throne defiling her skin, but…I didn’t really expect to survive the war, to be honest. Besides, I was the spare, what were they gonna do about it? I knew I was never going to be queen.” You said with a shrug. “It’s not half bad anyways. She’s a talented artist.”
“This is…that tree, isn’t it. The one on Mariposas.” He said, studying the lines, the shading. It was a large, sprawling tree, branches thick, covered in flowers. Roots twisted down your thigh, headed towards your knee, and in the roots, were a few stray butterflies. Above it, three moons, their shaded crescents in various stages of their cycles.
You nodded. “The Monarch Tree. From which, all life on Mariposas bloomed, or so the legends go.” You guided his hand further down the art, to where the roots curled into a subtle version of the symbol of the Rebellion. “This was by special request.”
His features glowed with recognition and he met your eyes, reaching up to smooth the hair out of your face. “Wow, that’s…that’s really hot, I’ll be honest.”
You giggled, shifting your body towards him. “Yeah? A little Rebel spirit is what does it for you?”
“You’re one to talk. You’re into that silly orange jumpsuit of mine.” He teased, hand hooking your knee and tugging your leg to the other side of his hips, so you were straddling him, hovering inches from his face.
Your wings twitched behind you as you cupped his face with both hands, nose pressed to his. Tenderly, slowly, you inched in, grinning when he got impatient and chased your lips, hands wandering up to your waist to tug you closer.
“You know, honestly Poe, it’s not so much the jumpsuit as it is the thought of…taking it off of you. How easy it would be to just…reach out and unzip it a little.” Mischief glimmered in your eyes. “With the Force.”
He let out a broken groan at that, throwing his head back towards the wall. “You can’t just say that when I’m not wearing it.”
You smiled, coy. “Next time, perhaps.”
“Oh, there’s no question about that, sweetheart.” He had fire in his eyes when he pulled you towards him, crushing his lips to yours, tongue teasing at the seam between your mouths. You let him in, the taste of him rolling across your tongue, minty fresh from his toothpaste.
You threaded your fingers through his curls, letting out a whine when his lips left yours and started trailing down your neck, stubble rough against the sensitive skin. His hand ghosted up your back, finding the base of your wings, calloused fingertips brushing against the spot between them.
Tingles shot through your limbs like firecrackers and you crumbled against him.
He froze, the panic setting in. “Woahhh, sorry, sorry, is that not an okay spot?”
You took a deep breath, reaching up to cup his cheek, turning his face towards you as best you could from your spot tucked into his shoulder. You laughed sheepishly, cheeks flushed. “S’fine, Poe. I’m okay.”
“No, if it’s not fine, you need to tell me. Baby, I’ve never…touched a Mariposan before, I don’t know what I’m doing.” He confessed.
“It’s…that spot is the most sensitive spot on my whole body.” You said through laughs, pulling his face down to meet yours. “So we just went zero to a thousand all at once.”
“Oh.” He laughed. “So it’s a no-go zone.”
“It’s a ‘we have to work up to that’ zone.” You amended, pressing a kiss to his lips, adjusting yourself so you were a little more upright. “You can touch it, but…it has to be featherlight. Unless we’ve gotten there.”
“Okay.” He nodded, nose brushing against yours. “So, do they…have feeling in them?” He asked, hand hovering just above the crest of one of your wings, still a little afraid to outright touch them, despite the fact that he already had, that night in the kitchens.
“Mmhmm.” You spread one out for him, an invitation. “You can touch them. Just be gentle. Like before.”
Poe reached out, running the palm of his hand down the length of one wing, tingles running down your back as he did.
You let out a contented sigh, lulling against his chest as your muscles relaxed.
“Does it feel good?”
“Yeah.” You kissed his cheek, then the corner of his lips, hand resting against his chest. “It’s like…having your hair played with.”
He smiled at that, continuing the gentle movements while you were curled up in his arms. He kissed you again, lips impossibly soft, like silk, the fine royal satins your sheets on Mariposas had been made of.
“You’re the only one allowed to touch them, though.” You told him.
“Just me?” He asked, absolutely enamored.
“Just you.” You punctuated it with a kiss that he readily reciprocated. “It’s…seen as a romantic thing, on Mariposas. Wing-touching is…very personal.”
“So when you let me touch them that night…”
“I was making a move, more or less. I knew you wouldn’t take it that way, though. It doesn’t mean much to outsiders.”
“It meant everything to me, Princess.” He whispered, kissing your forehead. He basked in the proximity, of the feeling of you in his arms, the way you slotted perfectly against him, like you were made for him. “Should have done my research. Would have saved us both some time.”
You laughed. “I doubt Laesynda would have told you that.”
“True.” He went quiet for a while, thinking over something before asking, “Do you…miss it?”
“Miss what?”
“Just…the way things were, before you went to sleep.” He asked.
You could tell it had been weighing on him. If you missed people from before. If you missed the relationships you’d had. If you missed Luke.
“Sometimes. I miss Mariposas a lot. I miss my family. I didn’t even get the privilege of losing them, really, I just woke up and…they were gone. Had been gone for decades. I miss Han. I miss Luke…but…He left me there. He just…left me there to sleep for thirty years, so…” You let out a breath. “I try not to miss him more than he missed me.”
He nodded, listening quietly, hand still gently passing over your wing, the sensation soothing in indescribable ways. It had been so long since someone had touched you like that. If he kept at it, he would lull you right to sleep.
“But I like this life, too. I like training with Rey and Soren. I like making a difference again, fighting for something important. And someday, when the war is over, I’ll get to figure out what that peace looks like for me again.” You reached up, thumb gently grazing the skin beneath that tiny scar on his cheekbone. You pulled him to you, locking in a slow, sensual kiss. “I like you most of all, Poe Dameron.”
He smirked. “You’re just saying that.”
“I’m not.” You shook your head, eyes earnest. “You saved my life. You found that pendant. You woke me up. And every day since then, you’ve been finding little pieces of my heart I thought I’d lost decades ago.”
His lips captured yours again, breathing into it. They wandered, down your cheek, past your jaw, down to your neck again. You laced your fingers through his curls, relishing in the burn of his stubble against your skin.
“Maker, I’m so glad we found you…”
He whispered against the sensitive spot he’d found on your neck, the words echoing off the caverns of your mind. That voice. Those words.
It was him. Obviously it was, but the realization still struck you to your core. You’d dreamed of this, dreamed of him for years, and now he was finally yours.
Your pilot. Your Poe.
Can’t Change the Past, Starlight
You and Poe walked down to breakfast separately the next morning. He slipped out of your room carefully, watching for any techs that might be walking by, and hurrying from your room to his to change into some real clothes, as all he had in your room was the formal tunic Leia had loaned him.
You timed your exit about fifteen minutes after, and ran into Rey and Finn in the hallway.
“How did it go?” Finn asked. “I was kind of worried. I never heard Poe come into the room last night.”
“Oh it was great. I’m sure we’ll hash it all out in the meeting later. Lots of new pledges, hopefully lots of new recruits, too. Ran into Lando Calrissian. He’s…an old friend.”
Rey’s jaw dropped. “The Lando Calrissian. Is he joining the Resistance?”
“He’s thinking about it.” You said with a smirk. “He’s always been hard to pin down, but I have a good feeling he’ll come around. Maker knows we could use his help.”
The canteen was bustling with folks, starting their day. Poe was sitting at the usual table with Rose. You grabbed some breakfast and slid into the seat across from him. A calculated move. He slid you a cup of caf, just the way you liked it.
“There you are. I was worried you’d gotten lost on the way to our room.” Finn said, searching Poe’s face. “Where’d you end up last night?”
“I…slept on the couch down in the lounge. Didn’t wanna wake you, we got back really late.” Poe lied.
Alright, you were officially doing this. You were officially hiding your relationship. It was kind of thrilling, you had to admit.
“Mmm.” Finn nodded, not buying it in the slightest. “Well, how’d it go?”
���Fantastic. (Y/N) has a real way with words.” Poe said, eyes sparkling. “Flipped the whole room, had everyone all fired up. We got so many new pledges and allies. It’s gonna take the droids forever to get all the files sorted.”
“Like I said, diplomatic training I never use.” You said with a shrug, taking a sip of caf.
“How’d you sleep?” Poe asked, meeting your eyes.
“Slept alright. Like you said, we got back late, so I didn’t get much of it.”
“Mmm. Sorry to hear that.” He said through a grin that he hid behind his mug. “I slept great.”
You kicked his leg under the table.
After breakfast, the group of you filed into the meeting, where you were somewhat surprised to see Lando, chatting with Leia. Once she spotted you, she motioned you over, hugging you tightly.
“I never doubted you, (Y/N), but I have to admit, I didn’t expect results like these. This changes everything.”
“I’m glad I could do my part, General.” You said, eyes glimmering. You turned to Lando. “Didn’t expect you to head here so fast.”
“How could I not? You need help. I should have been here a long time ago.” He said, slinging an arm around your shoulders. Just like old times. “I’m here for whatever you need, ladies. Just say the word.”
“Well right now, I need someone wrangling the new recruits. They need to be rounded up from outposts in the Outer Rim.” Leia said.
Lando saluted. “Just give me coordinates and a ship. I can make it happen.”
You left the two of them, turning to sit in your usual seat with the other Jedi. This meeting was a little more broad, more of the operatives from the middle ranks present in addition to the higher-ups.
Laesynda walked past, letting her hand brush on yours as she passed, a knowing smile on her face.
You avoided Poe’s gaze purposefully, but you could feel it on you from across the table. Business as usual, you supposed. He was always giving you those lovesick looks, but now there was something more in those warm brown eyes of his. You loved the feeling.
Leia started the meeting, opening with words of congratulations, the numbers from the previous night broken down in the projection on the holo in the middle of the room. The team burst into applause, several congratulative whoops and hollers sounding. Snap jostled Poe’s shoulder and he finally met your eyes, giving you that charming flyboy wink, handsome features illuminated in the teal light.
Leia moved to the next order of business, the intel Lando had been hard at work gathering. About Mariposas.
“The attack on Mariposas…I believe it was an inside job.” Lando said.
Your heart dropped into your stomach, ears ringing. You looked at Laesynda and she shared the same grim expression you were sure was on your face. You felt Poe’s eyes on you, watching as the rug was torn from beneath your feet.
“I don’t mean to impede on our celebration, I just…With three prominent Mariposans among our ranks, I think it’s a logical conclusion that…two of them were the targets of the original attack. So whoever tipped off the Empire splinter cells, if they’re still alive, could be interested in…”
“Finishing the job.” You said, suddenly exhausted.
“Yeah.” Lando nodded.
He brought up some diagnostics, a map of the planet, a breakdown of the attack. He talked those who were unfamiliar with it through what had happened. You watched as red bloomed across the Healer’s Temple, right where you were, blaster fire taking out the Refuge, where the Healers had retreated. A light attack up front to scare them, a heavy attack on their hiding spot to finish them off.
Immediately, you knew Lando was right. It was an inside job. Only someone who knew the innerworkings of the palace would have known the Healers retreated there in the case of an emergency. Someone who had grown up there, perhaps.
You bristled, watching as the attack continued, further details selling his point further. This was an attack that had been planned and executed by someone intimately familiar with your home. And someone who wanted you dead. Or at the very least, didn’t want you to wake up.
“Maddox.” The name left your mouth coated in venom. “My brother. Had to have been. Only the royal family would have known all of this, to exploit every weak spot in order.”
“Why would your brother…” Poe started, finally daring to speak up.
“He was jealous.” Laesynda said, the memories of him weighing her down, too. “Always jealous. He was the oldest, the heir to the throne. It still wasn’t enough for him. He was jealous (Y/N) was the Jedi of the family. Wanted it to be him.”
“Couldn’t have been our parents. I was asleep, Laesynda was ten. It had to have been Maddox.” You laughed bitterly, shaking your head. “Maker, if he wanted me dead so bad, I don’t know why he didn’t just destroy my pod and kill me himself.”
“Because we were there.” Leia said, voice soft. “We were too late to stop the initial attack, but…Han and Lando got the shields up. I guarded your pod. Luke handled the cultists.”
You pressed your lips together, nodding. “Thank you.”
“By the time the fight was over, all of the Healers’ Pendants had been destroyed or…lost. We tried to use the Force to open your pod, but they were designed with that in mind. Only a healer could open it and they were…all gone.”
You took a long breath, nodding as she explained.
Lando looked at you, features apologetic. “And if he is indeed in the First Order, alive after all this time, it stands to reason that…he wouldn’t be happy that you’re awake again, your Highness.”
“Right. Do we have any…intel that he is? On either account, alive or currently working with the First Order?” You asked, adjusting your posture. Your wings twitched. Rey reached for your hand and you gave it to her, the touch comforting, albeit simple.
“Not yet, your Highness, but…We’re working to figure that out. I just wanted to make sure we were all on the same page.” Lando said, turning the holo off with a click. “Wanted to make sure we all kept our guards up.”
Leia ran the team through a few other things, mostly preparation for new Resistance members she was anticipating. New quarters would have to be prepared, they’d have to arrange supplies and prepare to train dozens, maybe hundreds, of rookies.
After the meeting, you met Poe’s eyes for a moment. And then, you walked back to your quarters, paces brisk. Uncharacteristic of you to just leave one so early with no discussion of meal plans, no chatter with your peers, to just…disappear. Anyone who knew you would know there was something wrong. And Poe knew you.
The door slid shut behind you and you sat on the mattress, letting out a strangled yell, head in your hands, knees tucked up into your chest and wings flaring out behind you.
Your heart raced in the silence after the scream. The force of it, the Force of you had rattled the trinkets sitting on your dressers. You took a few breaths, leaning back against the wall and staring at the ceiling panel, tears streaming down your cheeks.
The door slid open again and Poe slipped inside, closing it behind him. He melted when he saw you there, looking utterly pathetic, you were sure.
“Hey, baby. You okay? That was some heavy stuff.” He crossed the room, sitting on the bed.
You shook your head and reached for him. He pulled you into his arms immediately, a large hand cradling your head, the other wrapped tight around you, legs draped over his. You buried your face in his shoulder, sobs muffled by his warmth.
He started tracing comforting patterns in your back, letting you get it all out before attempting to talk you through it.
“I feel so stupid, crying about it. It happened so long ago…” You confessed, voice soft and broken.
“Not for you.” Poe reasoned, pressing a kiss to your hairline. One gentle hand found your cheek and he used his thumb to gently wipe your tears away. “Everyone here knows it’s still fresh for you. Of course you’re torn up about it, I would be, too.”
You nodded, sniffling. “I always knew he hated me, but…I guess I just never knew how much. I thought after Endor, everything would cool off. But it doesn’t sound like that’s the case. It was quiet for a while, sure, but…I wasn’t here when things started getting bad. I wasn’t here to help when things got worse…”
He listened, empathy rooted deep in his warm brown eyes. “You’re here now.”
“Yeah, but…”
“What happened, happened. We can’t change the past, starlight.” He said, readjusting his hold, one arm cradling you while the other nestled against your cheek, still gently dabbing at your tears as they fell. “I’m just glad you’re here now. For selfish and unselfish reasons. Rey needs you. I need you. You’ve got a lot of good to do here, and you’ve already done so much.”
You nodded, absorbing his words. He was right. He always seemed to be. “What do you have going on today? Is there somewhere you need to be?”
“It can wait. I’m needed here.” He promised, pressing a kiss to your nose, gentle smile turning mischievous with a quirk of his eyebrow. “Besides, they’ll never find me in here.”
You couldn’t help but laugh a little. Poe never failed to bring a smile to your face, even when you were feeling like this.
“It’ll be alright, baby.” He reassured. The name still made your heart do flips in your chest. You much preferred it to your stuffy royal titles.
You sat further upright, kissing his soft pink lips. He kissed back, hand tilting your face just so with passionate precision. “I know it will. We’ll make sure of it this time.”
Rise of the Resistance
It wasn’t long before the new recruits started showing up. Lando ran what was akin to a shuttle service for a few weeks, running back and forth in a tiny transport, trying to avoid as much attention as possible. So far, it had worked.
The new folks were a bright bunch. Among them, Wedge Antilles, who had left behind his flight school, taking most of his pupils with him to help the cause.
“You know, as weird as this sounds, I missed it, Princess.” He admitted, hands on his hips, looking around the base, where soldiers ran in neat columns for their morning workout.
“Missed that Rebel air?”
He grinned. “Exactly that.”
Snap walked over, hugging him tightly and that was how you found out Wedge was Snap’s step-dad. Maker, it was a small galaxy after all. You and the other Jedi took a break from training, trying to help everyone get acclimated. You helped with giving tours, showed rookies where to get their breakfast and sleep, teaching them emergency protocol.
You set up a meditation room in an empty storage shed. It left something to be desired, but it was dimly lit, had some soft music playing, various toys and activities for Force training, cushions on the floor for those who could not float in the air while they meditated.
Aspen led some of the new recruits through while you were organizing your books.
“And this is Princess (Y/N) (L/N) of Mariposas, one of three Jedi we have on base.” She motioned to you. “If any of you think you might be Force-Sensitive, this is who you want to come to with questions.”
“We are always looking for new Jedi.” You said. “But this room is for everybody. If you need to get away for a bit, feel free to come here, do some meditation, read. It’s here for you. It gets rough out there, you need to take care of yourselves.”
Hours later, you had a tour group of your own, leading them through the comms center, then the mech workshop, droid repair, where BB-8 was getting a fresh paint job and beeped and whirred at you excitedly.
You led them past the hangar, where there were pilots milling around, about to head out on a perimeter check. Poe was there, stretching in that orange jumpsuit of his. You couldn’t fight the grin that formed when he spotted you, lighting up. He walked over, introducing himself to the group.
“Any pilots?” He asked, scanning your recruits, standing right next to you, hands on his hips, but his elbow brushing your side.
Professional. So, painfully professional.
“Reggie there.” You pointed him out and Reggie volunteered himself with a proud hand in the air.
“That’s the spirit. Welcome to the team, Reg.” He looked at you, glancing at your holo to take a peek at your schedule. “They’re not giving you too much trouble, I hope.”
“Nope, I’m all set with these guys. Bright bunch.” You replied, meeting those warm brown eyes, where mischief always seemed to sparkle.
“Right. Good. So, you don’t have anything penciled in after lunch?”
“I do not.” You confirmed.
“Alright. Well, uh, I’ve gotta hop in that X-Wing for perimeter checks. See you around, your Highness.” He promised, eyebrow quirked. He turned to Reggie. “Nice to meet you, Reggie. I’ll make sure you get acclimated.”
“Thank you, sir.” Reggie replied, starstruck.
You gave Poe a parting smile. Once the group had turned away, you glanced back. He motioned to the zipper of his jumpsuit, then looked at you with over-exaggerated expectation. Your jaw dropped and you rolled your eyes, laughing. Here in front of all of these people was not where you intended to use the Force to unzip his jumpsuit.
Still, you pinched your fingers together, focusing for a moment as you tugged it down the tiniest bit, just enough to tease him. He gasped, clearly not expecting you to actually do it. The way his eyes lit up, though, you could tell he was into it. Perhaps too into it.
The group didn’t notice, too busy buzzing about their future roles. Some of them were buzzing about other topics, like how hot your boyfriend was.
You moved them along to the next spot on the tour, but one of them pushed.
“Who was that?”
“Who, Commander Dameron?”
“He’s a Commander.” She giggled with the girl beside her. They couldn’t have been older than nineteen. It was kind of cute, admittedly. Harmless.
“Wow, he is something.” The other one agreed.
“Best pilot in the galaxy, in fact.” You chimed, heart surging with pride at your overly casual words. “I do think he’s seeing someone though, ladies.”
They both let out dramatic sighs. “Well, whoever they are, I hope they know how lucky they are.”
You chuckled, watching as his X-Wing pulled off into the air, doing a barrel roll right above the group. Now he was showing off. You’d be lying if you said it didn’t do something to you. “Oh she does.”
***
You ate lunch with Rey and Soren, welcoming a few of the new recruits to your table. Finn was busy with tours, too, training people to do various upkeep tasks around the base, keeping everything running smoothly. Poe was standing in the doorway and Rey looked up at him, then glanced at you, then back at him again.
“I think he’s trying to get your attention.” She chuckled, stabbing at the remains of her salad with a fork.
“Oh, is he?” You replied through a smile, still trying to keep up the act.
“I think he’s into you, you know. Finn and I talk about it sometimes.” She said, tone encouraging. “And he is his roommate. And his best friend.”
“Are you implying Finn has some information I should know?” You asked.
She laughed. “I very well may be. Honestly though, you should just go for it. I’ve never seen him look at anyone like that. May as well give it a shot.”
“Yeah.” You smiled at that. “Maybe I’ll go see what his deal is.”
“Good luck.” Rey said, watching as you crossed the room to where he was waiting in the doorway.
You met him with a cordial, professional smile. “Commander Dameron, is there something I can help you with?”
“Actually, yes, there is, Your Royal Highness.”
“Woah, busting out the big title? What’s the special occasion?”
“I was wondering if you’d like to take a walk down the hall with me.”
“Down the hall.” You said with a chuckle, pushing past him and leading him in that direction. Once you were out of earshot of the canteen, you muttered, “How romantic.”
“Oh I’ll show you romantic, Princess.” He replied, tugging open a closet door and grabbing your arm, pulling you inside. He locked the door with a careful click and then he was on you, calloused hands on your cheeks, lips fluid and hungry.
“Poe,” you mumbled into his lips, taken aback, heart revving like an engine.
“You wanna unzip it the rest of the way?” He asked, the rasp in his voice alone telling you he had been thinking about it all morning.
“That did something to you, huh?” You giggled into his mouth as he latched back on, his steps pushing until you hit the wall behind you.
“Sure did.” He agreed, releasing you and holding his arms open, orange jumpsuit there and ready for you, zipped nearly to the top. “Do it.”
“You sure?” You asked, raising a hand, wiggling your fingers with a coy smile on your face.
“Quit teasin’ me, baby.” He warned.
You bit back a laugh, focusing the zipper. You pinched your fingers together and pulled downwards, the zipper falling at your will without either of you touching it. He stared at it for a long moment, that dangerous spark in his eyes again before he surged forward.
“That is…wow.” He murmured, fire behind his words. One hand cupped your cheek, the other holding your waist as he stepped closer, closer, closer, slotting himself between your legs.
You grabbed the sides of the jumpsuit, pulling it open, working it down his broad shoulders to reveal the thin white undershirt beneath. On top of it, the silver chain he always wore, a simple silver ring threaded through it. A ring you recognized as Shara’s.
“Rey and I had a…conversation…at lunch.” You said between kisses.
“Mmhmm, ‘bout what?” He asked, tilting your head and kissing down your neck. His other hand roamed lower, brushing across one of your wings, sending tingles up your arms.
You let out a shuttered breath, head tilting back against the wall. “She thinks…” another sigh escaped you as he continued to kiss the spot, jaw movements clouding your vision with stars, “you might be into me.”
His lips curled, poised over the vein on your neck. He paused for a moment. “Oh she does, does she?”
“Yeah, she has it on pretty good authority, apparently.” You said, daring to look down at him, at those dark, sultry eyes.
“Yeah, well, she’s not far off.” He breathed, going back in for your neck, determined to leave a mark in the short window of time you had before you and Soren were doing your ground perimeters. “I’m fucking obsessed with you, starlight.”
You moaned at his passioned ministrations on your neck, fingers threading through those lucious curls and giving a gentle tug. His hands hooked under your thighs and he hoisted you onto his hips, your back pressed against the wall of the tiny closet.
You met his eyes, breathless, wings fanned out behind you. “I can’t believe I get to have you, Poe Dameron.”
“Believe it.” He asserted, nose brushing against yours on the way to your lips. You cupped his cheeks with your hands, kissing all over his face before returning. “Kriff, I still wake up every day in disbelief that I get to do this in a closet with a Jedi Princess.”
“We won’t be in closets forever.” You whispered, eyes locking on his. It was a promise. Someday, everyone would know. It wouldn’t have to be a secret anymore.
He nodded, grinned. “Yeah, but…it is kinda thrilling, right?”
“Can’t argue with that.”
His eyes drifted down to your neck and he pulled a plush pink lip between his teeth, Adam’s apple bobbing. “Hey, uhhh…you have a turtleneck you can wear, right?”
Your jaw fell open. “You did not.”
“I might’ve.”
“You might’ve?” You shook your head. “Poe Dameron, what am I going to do with you?”
He pressed his forehead to yours, eyes half-lidded, lips ghosting across yours as he whispered, “More of this, I hope.”
***
Another week came and went. More recruits arrived, but things had hit something of a plateau. Still, your numbers were excellent, a far cry from the shell of a Resistance that had been left after Crait.
Poe was giving the new pilots a walk around the base, all of them suited up in their bright orange jumpsuits, having been fitted for them for the first time. You and Soren were out and about, dressed in your Jedi robes, lightsabers clipped to your belts. You must have just finished some training, he rationalized.
He noticed how some of the pilots in his group stared, watching the two of you with interest. He figured many of them had probably never seen a Jedi before. Hell, he hadn’t until Rey had moved those rocks from the mouth of the tunnel they’d all been trapped inside on that blasted salt planet.
“Is that one the Jedi Princess or the other Jedi?” one of the new pilots asked, voice hushed, as though you could hear his very thoughts at that distance.
“That one is the princess. You can tell by the wings.” Snap explained. “Poe’s good friends with her.”
Good friends. He thought to himself with a chuckle. Just like you and Karé are “good friends.”
“Is she single? Could you put in the good word?” another asked, earning elbows and enthusiastic hollers from his teammates.
Snap laughed out loud, glancing over at Poe, who could feel his ears burn. Cheeks, too.
“Oh, uhhh, Jedi actually aren’t allowed to fall in love.” He lied through a charming smile. “Believe me, I asked her myself. Breaks some ancient Jedi code or something. Sorry, fellas.”
The rookie pilots let out noises of disappointment and Poe couldn’t help but laugh to himself. There. That’d keep them off of you.
“They’re not, huh?” Snap asked, voice quiet enough that the others couldn’t hear. He motioned to you with his head. “Might want to tell her that.”
Snap was right. Poe glanced over and you were looking at him with that starry-eyed gaze. So lovesick he lost track of his footing, tripping right over BB-8, who had been rolling in front of him.
“Poe!”
Bee let out a series of disgruntled beeps and buzzes and he chuckled, embarrassed. He scratched the back of his neck. “Sorry, Bee. You okay, buddy?”
Bee beeped up at you, seemingly unharmed. He was a sturdy little guy, after all.
“I agree, he needs to watch where he’s going.” You said, hands on your hips. You offered one, helping him to his feet. “You hear that, Dameron?”
“Loud and clear, your Highness.” He chuckled, brushing himself off.
“No serious damage?”
“Not that I can find.” Poe blew the hair from his eyes.
You reached up and plucked a single leaf from his curls, handing it to him. “There. For your collection.”
“Thanks, I’ll put it with the rest of ‘em.” He said with a smirk. Poe turned to the assembled rookies, who were murmuring amongst themselves. “Pilots, Princess (Y/N), Princess (Y/N), our new crop of pilots. Get acquainted with her. If you crash in the middle of a fight, she’s the one that’s gonna catch your X-Wing.”
“If it doesn’t blow up before that.” Snap added, earning a few unsettled laughs from the group.
It was a dangerous job. You’d always known that. You liked to think that you helped protect them when you could. When it was possible to. But Poe was always taking a risk when he climbed into that cockpit, even for something as simple as checking perimeters. He knew it, too, which is what made him so damn brave.
“Right. That.” Poe agreed with a bitter chuckle. “How was training?”
“Good. Making progress.” You said, shrugging. You and Soren hadn’t done anything groundbreaking, just sparring. But still, it felt good, like you were both making habits, challenging each other and learning little quirks of battle.
“Good. Good. Well, see ya around.” He gave your arm an awkward little touch.
You couldn’t help but laugh as you returned to Soren, who had a knowing look on his face. You knew then that he knew. That that Jedi intuition had finally clocked what was going on. But he didn’t say anything. Saved you the trouble of explaining yourself, why you were hiding it.
The Resistance had enough going on. They didn’t need the drama of one of the Jedi entangled with their ace pilot. Especially if something went wrong.
Tags: @cap-lu20
#poe dameron#poe dameron x reader#poe dameron imagine#star wars#sequel trilogy#star wars sequels#jedi!reader#poe x reader#poe imagine
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🌙✨RP blog master list ✨🌙
Bsd OCS ones
Black doves
@blackdoveoftime Scarlett
@letshurry isamu
@comenoworstaybehind asahi
@timeisrunningout-comequick Sakura
@yourproblemsaresimple atlas
@stopfuckingdying yuka
Nimone military and peeps
@stayoutofmyway delia
@thewaveswillguildyou oliver
@letslookback Veronica
@deathisthetruth Issac lounger
@nohopeforyounow bruce
@youwillcomeback usagi
@comewhileyoustillcan adam
@mywhatdowehavehere ceraza
@preparefordoublethetrouble Jason and Butch
XY
@soonyouwillgo magician
@howhungrycanyoube Butcher
@whyareyoustaringatme quick shot
@canyounotstare delta and data
@stopstaringforgodssakes the bride
@sosorrythatmychildisademon moon and zero
Blood red au
@liesiswhatyouare red (Scarlett)
@patheticasallways lord Issac
@yourlifeisup corpse king
Port mafia
@pm-moon-starsteel moon starsteel and Liam starsteel
@a-certain-angry-redhead chuuya
@soitisraining sachiko
@whenwillyoujustdie pm! Hoshi
@wantmorespice kazuya
@onlyifheisthere dark era pm! Liam and moon
@youareafooltolookatme dark era pm! Hoshi
Armed detective agency
@come-now hoshi
@thiswillonlyhurtasmidge yosano akio
Hunting dogs
@deathiswhaticrave Kenta
Media industry au
@bowtothegodthatiam model and manager fydor
Dotd
@ifyoustareonemoretime oiwa
ordre de carcassonne
@justpackupandgo Markus
@arey0ul0st Cythen
@dotellthetime Beatrice Auch and Lionel Auch
People to greet while walking around around Yokohama (I will think of a better name later)
@runwhileyoustillareableto Caroline and Cole
@thespringbreezeisquitenice Murasaki Shikibu
@didyoulikethesong Aspen
Blue rebellion
@whatdoyouhavetooffer monarch and tiger
Children of the lost
@mayiaskwhyyouarelookingatus Adeline and Gabriele
Eyes of deception
@howboldofyoutofollowus
The japanese military
@canyoustopstaringalready
Royalty au
@loveisnothinv queen Everlin Blackwood
@comequick-notmuchtimeleft Edith
Other RP blogs (not only for bsd)
@ohbelovedmoon (time twins)
@tothelightwego the light of humanity
Part 2 of masterlist ✨
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1,400-Year-Old Treasure Stash Found Under Playground in China
Underneath the playground of a school in China, archaeologists uncovered ruins of a 1,400-year-old settlement that included dozens of storage pits and thousands of artifacts.
Archaeologists excavated the playground of an elementary school in the eastern coastal city of Ningbo ahead of planned construction, the Institute of Archaeology at the Chinese Academy of Social Sciences said in an Oct. 10 news release.
The excavations uncovered 65 pits, eight wells and several other structures all over 1,400 years old, the release said. Archaeologists identified the ruins as part of a settlement.
In one storage pit, archaeologists found 796 copper coins in tied-up stacks. A photo shows the stash of muddy coins with square holes in the center. In one of the wells, they unearthed 1,682 more coins.
Based on the number of coins and their style of burial, archaeologists concluded the treasures were buried as an emergency measure by residents who feared a disaster was coming, the release said. The age and location of the coins match — and might be linked to — a period of rebellion and famine in the sixth century A.D.
Archaeologists also found preserved plants in one of the pits. The plant remains included bamboo, gourds, peach pits and a large number of acorns. A photo shows what remains of these nuts.
The other pits and wells contained pottery fragments, tiles, altars, washbasins and other artifacts, archaeologists said. Two lamps, part of a bronze chandelier, were also uncovered, a photo shows.
The artifacts mainly date from the Han dynasty, a period from 206 B.C. to 220 A.D., and the Six Dynasties, a period from 220 A.D. to 589 A.D, according to the release and Encyclopedia Britannica.
Ningbo is in Zhejiang province and about 135 miles south of Shanghai.
By ASPEN PFLUGHOEFT.
#1400-Year-Old Treasure Stash Found Under Playground in China#Ningbo China#han dynasty#six dynasties#ancient coins#ancient artifacts#archeology#archeolgst#history#history news#ancient history#ancient culture#ancient civilizations#ancient china#chinese history
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#15 feign love Maeglin/Idril Gondolin
Thank you -- this one was a stumper! But I do like a challenge. I have given it my best shot, I hope you like ambiguity and unresolved emotions.
From this prompt list.
On the escape from Gondolin, Idril struggles to make sense of her relationship with Maeglin. 850 words. Rated G. Mention of canonical character deaths.
* * *
Idril’s shoulders ache. She does not know how long they have been walking when she becomes aware of it, but now she can think of nothing but the weight of Eärendil straining the muscles of her arms.
She strokes back fine locks of golden hair from her son’s forehead. “Do you think you can walk for a bit, my jewel?”
His blue eyes are wide but unseeing, as if he is forcing himself awake to avoid the darkness. He shakes his head.
Meleth draws up beside them. “I can carry him a while, lady,” the nurse offers.
The woman is already burdened with packs, heavy with far too many of Eärendil’s things that Idril could not bear to leave behind. Useless things, toys and trinkets that will serve no purpose on the road, if they even make it beyond the passage’s issue from the mountain.
“No, thank you, Meleth,” Idril says, and hoists Eärendil onto her hip.
Her gaze is pulled back over her shoulder at the long line of followers. She hopes to see Tuor moving among them, but the line disappears behind a bend in the rock. For now, she has only the resolute beat of her heart to assure her that she will not have to face their uncertain future alone.
In an effort to keep her mind occupied, Idril catalogues the items in Meleth’s pack.
A blanket woven by Nordhil, wife of Duilin, who was not there when they descended into the ground while Gondolin cracked and rattled and hissed above them. Idril suspects she chose instead to fall with the city when she learned of her husband’s death.
A model of the Mindon Eldaliéva, made by Turgon, carved from aspen that grew high on the slopes of the Echoriath, and gilded with gold from deep within the veins of the mountains. When set out at night, a gem set in its tower, cut and given life by Enerdhil, catches the light of the stars and gleams white.
Idril squeezes her eyes shut to dam her tears. What good had she thought it would do to carry all these memories out of the wreckage! She blinks again, but the thoughts march on.
The last of Eärendil’s things Idril packed was a cloth bag filled with many tiny blocks of various materials—wood, bronze, steel, polished stone—that could be fit together to create gates and towers, castles and bridges; and, for which they were not intended but which her son liked best, abstract geometric forms evoking the shapes of birds and beasts. Eärendil spent hours with those blocks spread out over the floor, happily chattering to himself, assembling and reassembling.
They had been a gift from Maeglin on her son’s sixth begetting day. He had kneeled on the floor beside his little cousin as Eärendil dumped the trinkets on the floor; smiled when Eärendil gasped and squealed in wonder and excitement; returned the child’s embrace when he, bouncing on his tiptoes, threw his arms around his shoulders.
How Idril had wanted to believe that Maeglin’s love was true, and generous, and kind. Of Eärendil, of Gondolin, of its people, of its King—of her.
But it had all been pretence. From the day that Maeglin had lost a mother at the hands of a father; lost that father at the hands of an uncle; lost, to his mind, all kin but her, it had been but a pretence and a balm for the yawning emptiness in his heart. And all that emptiness, he reserved for her.
It was too much to ask of a single person—but even then Idril might have filled it. She had been tempted. Whether out of pity or loneliness or in rebellion against her dreams, she had been tempted. But Idril, too young when the tale began to enter it as an actor herself, had been audience to the defeat of a people who had set out to defy doom. She would not. She was obedient to the wisdom of both heart and mind.
She was obedient to the canker of foreboding in her heart that she carried with her, silently, through the years.
Memory has her clutched now in its grip. She is brought back to that moment on the walls of the city, the horror of not knowing which of her husband or child or kinsman would be the first to fall onto the rocks below.
Maeglin has her pierced with his keen eyes. “Ever didst thou feign to love me!” he cries.
Then he falls.
Dredged back up from memory, the words strike her now hard and with precision, as his words ever did. Had she? Did her silence make her no less guilty of pretending than he?
“Ammë?” Eärendil’s voice pulls her back, and she realises she is clutching him too tightly to her side. She loosens her hold.
“Yes, love?” Idril murmurs.
“I can walk for a bit now.”
She smiles back at him and sets him down, closing her hand protectively around his. Steels herself against questions.
Later, perhaps, there will be time. For now, they press on through the mountain.
* * *
On AO3
Meleth is the nurse of Earendil named in The Fall of Gondolin. Nordhil I made up. Enerdhil is the jewelsmith who, in one version of the story, made the Elessar. Yes, Maeglin created a LEGO prototype.
This has been sitting unfinished in my drafts for a while because, like Idril, I have been unable to make sense of this relationship in a way that doesn't make one or both of them look really bad, which I didn't want to do. So I decided to just wrap it up and keep it ambiguous.
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Who is your favorite of all your OCs? And what do they look like?
Which OC do you think has the most aesthetic outfit?
What two OCs would never stop bickering?
What two OCs would be best friends forever?
Would any of your OCs commit crimes?
Oh goodness that's a bunch of very difficult questions. Haha
Favourite OC: God they all have awesome parts to them, I think my persona character (Rowan) should be up there for the pure nostalgia she brings - I've had her for four years and I tried to replace her once and she dragged me back by the hair. As for the proper OCs, though, Sequoia (One of my sides, representing intelligence, curiousity and childish spirit) is probably my favourite, I love her a lot, little scrunkle, and what they both look like:
Which has the best outfit: Willow for sure. Though a lot of my sides have really fun outfits that I love a lot, this is what she looks like
Which two would never stop bickering: A lot of my sides fall into this category lmao - specifically though, Elma (Conformity/'logic') and Aspen, (Rebellion) argue and bicker pretty much constantly.
Best Friends Forever: this one's really hard, I think Eve (robot gal) would get along really well with Hazel (My side who represents my coping mechanisms) they'd be the kind of besties who would be able to chill on the sofa and do their own thing whilst having quiet time. On the flip side, I think Selina (hippie fae) would get along really well with Wisteria (my creativity) they would be besties of the century, and unstoppable force, lol.
Would any of them commit crimes: Aspen absolutely would no questions asked, Wisteria might if provoked. I think Mae would probably commit crimes too if it was for the betterment of her or other's lives.
Thank you for the questions!!! These were really fun to answer :3
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Ask Me Anything -- Tinera
Do you like Aspen calling you Tiny?
It’s the obvious nickname I always end up with.
You seem like a pragmatic/straight forward person, have you always been so, or have life circumstances had more of an influence in shaping you this way?
I don’t know. Have yours? People are people.
What would be your ideal way to spend a rest day?
I used to be really good at beer pong, which is very messy in lunar gravity.
Do you still feel strongly against the way PUFs alter their brains?
The behaviour-altering brain damage? Why is this even a question? What’s wrong with you?
What are your thoughts on recent developments with the bacteria in the chronostasis pods?
I’m not a scientist. But I assume at this point that everything we learn is just going to be even more fucked up.
Do you feel hopeful that the ship & crew will make it to your destination safely?
Well there’s not exactly any other positive results to hope for. So yes.
What's your biggest regret?
Oh we’re getting weirdly personal huh?
What is the thing you hate the most?
Answering intrusive personal questions from strangers.
What you love the most?
Not answering intrusive personal questions from strangers.
Do you think about your life in earth or you try to avoid thinking about it?
I’ve never been to Earth except for my time in prison. Which is similar to being in Lunar prison except much safer.
Do you have or want to have children?
If we end up establishing a place where anyone would want to raise children before I grow old and die it’ll be a fucking miracle.
If you have to pick one of your crewmates to be locked with in a small room for 24hrs, who you pick?
Denish.
*if it comes to this* would you be willing to lead a rebellion against the corporate overlords when it’s time to land on hylara?
Nobody who’s part of the crew who fails so utterly as to let any overlords get established should be leading any rebellion because they’ve already proven that they’re incompetent. We hold all the cards right now. Some people are a bit upset that hard decisions might have to be made, but come on man. “If you managed to set an entire city block on fire, would you take charge of the firefighting crew to put the fire out?” Don’t be stupid.
I know you’re not very familiar with fauna, because you were born on Luna. When you get to the planet, will you be interested in getting a pet (from earth, such as a cat or something) or helping domesticate an animal from the new planet?
I think we have very different ideas about the resource priorities when terraforming an entirely new planet that’s literally lightyears further from Earth than anyone has ever gone.
Not sure what you mean about domesticating an animal on the planet. All the animals that are gonna be on the planet are in our freezers. Anything worth domesticating in there is already domesticated. Why would the new planet open new domestication opportunities.
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Peeta's Parting Presentiment
Across Panem, there is a buzz surrounding Caesar Flickerman's newest guest. This is the third time Peeta Mellark has come on and each time he's divided the Nation; this is the third time he's been on, and Peeta is significantly worse for wear. That doesn't hinder two occurrences. The first: Caesar Flickerman continues to act as though the pair are old chums. The second: Beetee Latier is in a control room in District Thirteen with a bright team, including District Twelve's Aspen Barros. The Capitol Darling and The Capitol gossip have been discussing for approximately twenty minutes now unbeknownst to what's to happen.
District Thirteen's intel had told the rebels that Peeta Mellark would have another interview this evening. The control room in Thirteen was a buzz. Several higher ups in the technological side of the cause were here, including Beetee Latier and Aspen Barros. The former sits, staring at the massive holographic as Caesar's logo stretches across. He's positioned in the center of the dimly lit room. "Security has been breached against The Capitol's system. Given those on the inside, I do not worry about much resistance at the moment. Our objective today remains simple: get as many to see the propo during Peeta Mellark's interview as possible. Aspen, what do you see on your side?"
There was a part of her that still felt like an imposter even being in the room let alone in a chair but it's pushed aside when she reminds herself that Beetee wouldn't have selected her if she wasn't capable. Eyes remained trained on the screen in front of her monitoring the feed, grateful to have a task to take her mind off the way her chest tightened at the sight of Peeta's state. There's a clearing of her throat before she speaks, voice coming out calm and level. "No change in the feed, it's still just the interview." She wasn't sure if they'd begun to try to break the propo through yet but her screen remained fixed on Mellark and Flickerman. Aspen searches for something positive or reassuring ( old habits dying hard ) not knowing if there was anyone else in the room who needed it but her. "But I've managed to lock the channel, it's all anyone will be able to see."
There's a nod at the report. Beetee remains unperturbed by the results as Doralee Hinerich fiddles with her keyboard nearby. A practice propo had just been attempted, which didn't break through interference into Peeta Mellark's interview. "It might have aired on a differing station. No matter. You're doing well, Aspen. Keep watch. Let us know what the audience is seeing."
The tone of the interview had all in all been somber. Even Caesar's attire lacked its usual color, but he still spoke to Peeta Mellark like they were old friends. He casually ignored the state the baker's son was in. Any brashness was pushed aside with either a toothy smile or patronizing nodding. "Peeta Mellark, we must acknowledge the state of urgency across Panem. The Rebellion continues to strike havoc amongst our innocent Districts. Death follows everywhere the rebels go and every person they have touched. The bombing and fires in Eight, the bursting of the dam in Five, when will enough be enough? Do you have any idea what's going through the minds of these rebels - some of which you were notoriously close to?"
"How am I supposed to know what's goin' through any of their heads, Ceasar?" he asks, his voice tense, but shaky at the same time. He's not looking at the interviewer and instead his eyes dart from the cameras to the guards flanking either side. His hands are shaking, but that's nothing new. "All I know is that… is that… it'll never be enough. For any of you. Nothin' will be left."
It comes in fuzzy, a sound of a sweet melody. A feminine voice comes through, cutting off both microphones for a few months. Are you, are you, coming to the tree, rings almost alluringly. Flickerman's eyes flicker towards the crew, confused. Once the singing is stopped and he gets a thumbs up, eyeline moves back to Peeta. "Peeta, please continue. What will never be enough?"
His head tilts like a dog catching a sound the moment the singing starts, Peeta's eyes fixatated away from the cameras as though he can see where it's coming from. "Katniss?" he says, his voice strained, throat dry. It can't be… can it? But the second he thinks it, the sound is gone and Caesar is asking him a question. He blinks - too many times, too rapidly, his heart racing - and he looks back at the host. "What will…?" he repeats, trying to catch up. "Everything. We'll all die before this is over."
"She's not here, Peeta. Katniss Everdeen is actively aligned with the resistance, the very people who burned down District Eight with no remorse for life. But you're right, it seems they won't stop until all of Panem is punished. They don't care for the lives of our citizens. She doesn't care for our citizens."
A simple nod is given in reply, maybe she'd let a sense of accomplishment bloom later but for now she is focused on actually achieving their goal. Gaze studies the screen and waits for it to change, pushing away any rising emotions in favour of a clear mind. She's just about to report that there's been no change when suddenly the screen changes, the propo filling it rather than "Wait, I think we've done it." There's a hint of excitement in her otherwise calm tone as she prepares to brace for an inevitable pushback from the Capitol.
Beetee has a wide smile, one that almost never spreads across introverted lips. Yet eyes flicker between Aspen's screen as well as Doralee's that is capturing the maneuvering tactics of The Capitol attempting to navigate the intrusion. The latter question is for both women in essence. "Aspen, what are the those watching currently seeing? How long do you estimate until connection is back to their ideal?"
Out of the corner of her eye she catches Beetee's smile, finally allowing herself a small one of her own in the light of their success. She watches the propo and then watches the screen switch back to the interview, seemingly getting increasingly chaotic throughout their interruptions. "The propo. It sometimes cuts back to the studio but the audio is still ours. Flickerman is fighting to get it back under control."
Doralee mentions it will likely only be thirty more seconds as well. Beetee turns to look at Aspen again and remarks, "He seems to be able to see it. That's important. Notify me if there's any changes at all, Aspen."
And before Caesar Flickerman can continue, their mics are off again. The broadcast scurries over to a propo each time the mics are cut. No stranger would it be, if we met at midnight in the hanging tree, the song is audible for them though. Suddenly Peeta Mellark and Caesar Flickerman are back on the screen as The Capitol interrupted Aspen and Beetee's interference once more.
Caesar wants to only pin this on District Thirteen, but Peeta knows... oh, he knows. It's bigger than just one place, bigger than all of them, and the Capitol is at the center of it all. Before he can say anything about it, though, the broadcast flickers and he can hear the singing again. But not only that - on the side where the screen shows the interview, it's no longer him and Caesar, but Katniss. She stands in rubble, fires arrows towards a hovercraft, walks through the bombing. "Katniss!" he says again, tears in his eyes as his chest feels as though it's being ripped open. "Are you there? Can-can you see me?" She's not going to answer or maybe she is, he's not sure. He's sure of anything anymore except for the physical pain he feels at saying her name.
Caesar all but huffs at this point. It's a brief, like several milliseconds peep into the man behind the facade. He clears his throat and continues, as though the producer in the corner of the set isn't annoyed. "Peeta Mellark, please continue. We were discussing the actions of the rebels and the crimes against Panem that they are committing. People are hurting."
She watched as the screen continued to show the interview, still working to ensure it's the only channel anyone can access, but the sound coming through is theirs and she hopes that's enough. If nothing else it seemed to be provoking a reaction from Peeta. "We're back to Peeta on screen now and he's -" She knows mentioning his state isn't what's needed from her and so a frown settles itself on her brow, equal parts in concentration and worry for him. "- I think he's trying to tell us something."
Eyes flicker between the many screens across the control room. Before spinning his chair closer to Aspen, he spends some time at Doralee's desk. At one point, he's taking the keyboard away and even putting in some code, much to the displeasement of the capable District Thirteen woman. Soon he's at Aspen's desk once more. Eyes trail her screen before turning to her. "So it is reaching him well," he regards. Well not in his state of mind, but rather physically reaching Peeta Mellark. "And this is the feed everyone in Panem is currently seeing, yes? The interruption seems stronger now. They must be seeing and hearing more across the board, I imagine."
"It seems to be." Is the soft reply she gives to Beetee's question, thoughts increasingly pulled once more towards distress the longer she watches Peeta on the screen. But she resists, opting for pragmatism just a little longer. "It is, no one can see anyone else. They're fighting to get the other channels back but I've still got this one locked in."
"Good," he begins to remark as eyes linger on the broadcast. "They're going to start becoming more aggressive in trying to break our connection soon. This might be the only momentum we have with airing the propo within Peeta's airtime," he then starts to address the entirety of the room. "Continue pushing it through. Put everything into it. We don't want to lose our opportunity here. Let Panem see the Mockingjay."
And like clockwork, the Mockingjay's song rings. Are you, are you coming to the tree? Where dead man called out for his love to flee? The interruption longer in song, though her face gets cut from viewer sooner, leaving at called. The two men remain on the screen now.
Peeta sucks in a breath as it happens again, moving to sit at the edge of his seat, looking at closely at the screen as possible. It's her - singing once more - and something inside of him snaps back together. The sanity that's been slipping for weeks now suddenly coming back, albeit terrified. "We're all doomed, Caesar. You, me, everything will be destroyed. Katniss, Katniss - " He's speaking quickly, looking at the camera, trying to get it all out before he slips again. "Think about what you're doin'! There will be nothin' left! Everything, Ceasar. Everything will be gone!" His eyes bore into the cameras, his voice even faster now. "And you - " He feels the guards approaching. "You in Thirteen - " Closer now, he speaks even more quickly. " - Dead by morning!"
The producer is by the cameraman now, instructing what Caesar will eventually realize is strict instructions to cut the stream. The guards close in on Peeta, sooner than cameras can cut off even if just by moments.
She remains almost hypnotised by the screen, trying to listen to what he's saying and what it meant. The words were simple enough but she lost her grip on the logic and pragmatism that she'd been clinging to throughout, her emotions taking hold of her instead. The final break comes when the screen goes black but not soon enough. She can only watch in horror, helpless, as the fist makes contact with Peeta's face and she can only begin to imagine that what follows will be worse. Aspen had never been prone to tears but she might have wept for him there and then if it hadn't been for the sudden flurry of activity around her. "It's gone. They've shut it down." Is her only report, brief and almost murmured before her dazed gaze finally landed on Beetee again and focused once more. "Do you need me to do anything else?" She suspected that the answer would be no, given the way that others were clearing out of the room, but she'd never wanted to be useful more in her life. If that wasn't in this room then she'd find somewhere else to pour her energy in to drown out her thoughts with action.
Somewhere in the dust, a voice mentions Peeta Mellark is giving a warning to District Thirteen. The conclusion is right as minutes later, Thirteen receives an intensive air strike. This is an action that is hidden from the other twelve Districts, The Capitol, and those who watched the interview in the cellblock of the tribute center. The warning from one of The Capitol's captives saves many lives in the underground District. When it's safe to come out the following morning of day fifty-eight, hundreds of white roses have been splayed out over the earth of Thirteen. In two days time, the rescue mission will begin.
With our Mockingjay era plot drops, these will be similar to the Claudius and Caesar updates. You are absolutely welcome to write a self-para or actively do threads in relation to this plot drop! If you choose to roleplay this on the dash, please tag your threads with both #eventideevent04 as well as #eventideppp. Our players are now welcome to play through day fifty-eight, even though Peeta's interview took place the night of the fifty-seventh.
This plot drop does not effectively pause time in the roleplay. It does however signify that we are getting closer to the rescue mission in this era. As always, thank you for your patience. Thank you for still being here with us in EVENTIDERPG. Our RPG is better with you in it. Happy roleplaying!
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Hi! Congratulations on 2k followers. Could I request #15 for spin the bottle with Johanna Mason please.
☼ queen of aspen (Johanna Mason) ☼
warnings; swearing, gore, death mention, murder.
wc; 2.8k
prompt; 15. Royalty AU
–
Ever since you inherited the role of Queen at the young age of sixteen, there’s been nothing but trouble.
Of course, you hadn’t expected it to be easy. You knew there were quite a lot of responsibilities that went into it, but there’s a lot more than you remember. When you were younger, you’d follow your mother around the castle, and she’d tell you the duties of being a Queen. The list was long and tiring, it was like this, though.
It’s not about the control of the kingdom that’s the hardest part. In fact, you could manage outside of the castle with your eyes closed, if you wished. The people are the easiest to please, especially since, compared to your parents and your ancestors before them, you’re a very lax ruler of the people.
It’s inside of the castle that’s beginning to turn your hair grey and give you stress rashes. From what you’ve observed, half of the servants—knights, maids, the ladies-in-waiting—are not being cooperative with one another, much less with you. It could be the change of power, your father had been a very respected man. No one dared to put a toe out of line, in fear that they’d be punished faster than they could run.
You’re not sure how, but at some point in time, they got it in their heads that you wouldn’t control them like your father, which has since created a number of problems. When you make orders, they aren’t to test your newfound power, it’s because you need them to carry out their jobs without the incessant whining and the rebellion.
Lately, you’ve put your foot down several times, and despite being disrespected, which would usually result in public humiliation, imprisonment, or being escorted out of the northern region, the worst you’ve done is relieve them of their jobs. If they can’t carry out a simple request, then that makes you believe that you need to get someone who will appreciate their job, instead of staring at you, as if you’re going to change your mind.
They seem to have forgotten that you’re Queen of Aspen now. You’re no longer a Princess, which means that what you command is word, and nothing less than.
Fortunately, you think that they’ve situated themselves enough to realize this fact, just in time for the annual convention in the neighboring kingdom to take place. You’re very grateful, especially since you gave your word to the King of Tethys last winter that you’d be there in the summer.
King Finnick, or just Finnick, since he’s not one for formalities with you, is one of your more favored friends. He was the first out of many to visit after your parents died four years ago, and he refused to leave Aspen until he was sure that you were going to be okay in his absence. You trust him with your life.
A long time ago, his parents and your parents had arranged a marriage between the two of you, so that in the future, the kingdoms of Aspen and Tethys would be united and a feared duo against the Sacred Heart Empire. Thus resulting in the two of you spending the majority of your childhood together, you know everything there is to know about him, and it’s the same for him.
You came to a conflicting realization in your preteens.
You couldn’t marry Finnick, and it wasn’t because you hated him, as your parents were led to believe in the beginning. You loved Finnick, far more than you ever believed you could, but it wasn’t in a romantic way, it was in a brotherly way. You weren’t interested in him, or the idea of men in general.
When you broke the news to your parents that you were interested in women, their prominent reaction was how they were afraid of how Finnick and his parents would feel.
Well, Finnick already knew, he was the first to know as soon as you did. He was waiting for you to tell your mother and father, so then he’d be able to tell his parents that he’d found another Princess to marry from a smaller coastal kingdom called Cordelia. While you were gaining courage, he had met Princess Annie and decided that he liked her. Not as much as he had previously liked you, but he was working his way to be there.
Finnick wasn’t heartbroken for long.
The trip you’re taking to Tethys today shouldn’t last longer than a month. There’s a lot to be discussed on how you three are going to command the north-west region, especially with Sacred Heart being so close. They’ve been expanding, the empires around them have been crumbling under their hand without a fight. It leads you to believe that they’d wanted to join the entire time, they were just waiting for the invite. If they’re not taken down soon, then the country of Panem might get stuck under Coriolanus’ harsh reign.
You met him once, a long time ago. When you were just a little girl, your parents brought you with them so that you could see the man they were going to negotiate a truce with. They wanted him to stop attacking their troops that were traveling nearby, because they weren’t passing through Sacred Heart directly. King Coriolanus claimed that he owned it all, even the land that Aspen sits on. He wasn’t going to be persuaded.
He was an ugly person, inside and out. You thought that he was a fairytale monster that came to life when you sat in front of him. Each time he moved, your heart pounded harder and faster in your chest, as if he’d lean across his throne and eat you whole.
Your parents weren’t intimidated by him in the slightest. They threatened him, told him that if he isn’t careful, then he’d find himself very regretful of the choices he’s making, and your family history is no stranger to generational grudges, that when you eventually succeeded them, you would continue for them.
You three left that night, and you weren’t attacked on the way back to Aspen. However, he didn’t hold back the second you were inside of the walls again. Your parents were prepared for this, the entire north-west region retaliated immediately against Coriolanus and his soldiers.
He lost thousands of troops, men and women, in the span of a few months. It didn’t matter what they were doing, if Coriolanus’ maroon red uniform was seen, then the order was to kill. The only mercy would be children traveling with, they would be rescued and rehomed inside of the kingdoms.
No one survived, and he found this out when the shipments of hundreds of bodies started.
Coriolanus didn’t want to start a war, he wanted to end it quietly. He’s come back for your family only once; to kill your parents. He’s the reason why they’re both gone. And you’re going to carry out their promise, but you’re hoping to be the one to kill him.
You tuck the front of your blouse into the pants, lips pursed. The lady-in-waiting at your elbow, Ilaria, holds the belt and other various accessories that’ll be useful to have while you travel. As much as you’d prefer to travel by carriage, since it allows for you to get more work done while on the way, the path to Tethys is easier on horseback.
You’ll be taking a few of your trusted knights, and you’ll be leaving your constable here to lead the kingdom while you’re gone.
She stands behind you stiffly, hands at her sides, head held high, eyes on the wide mirror you stand in front of. She watches the people in the room through it, in case she needs to act on a moment's notice. She would prefer for her face to be shielded by some sort of helmet for her own protection, and also because she’s more of a private person. She knows how you feel about being connected to the high ranking people around you. Besides, it’s unusual for constables to wear a helmet around their Queen.
When you were sixteen, parents' deaths still fresh and painful, she was appointed to be your guidance until you turned eighteen. Your constable is only two years older than you are, which is also highly unusual. However, she’s somehow decades more responsible than you are in some aspects. There’s been a few times where you wonder if she should’ve been appointed to power, considering she knows the right thing to do in most situations.
Johanna briefly makes eye contact with you in the mirror when Ilaria gets to her knees to pull the socks over your feet and up to your salves. Her eyes don’t dart away, measuring your face, squinting, and then they lower to the girl that’s getting you properly dressed for this trip.
“Johanna,” You say, she looks at you again, “While I’m gone, I want you to get the staff in order, and figure out why they’re acting rebellious. I don’t want them demoted, save that for when I come back, please.”
“Yes, Your Highness.” She murmurs, “Anything else?”
You smile slightly, leaning down to straighten the socks. Ilaria mumbles an apology before getting to work on the boots. “Try not to have too much fun without me.”
The corners of her mouth turn up in a smile for half a second, “I can’t guarantee that.”
When Ilaria’s done, you stomp your feet in the boots. They’re brand new, so they’re going to be uncomfortable. They were made to be form-fitting on your feet, and yet they’re still loose. You’re sure that these are going to be a pain to wear.
It’s already reaching late noon, so you start toward the door wordlessly. Ilaria hurries to open it before you stop. You had hoped last night that you’d be miles away by now, but there were a few unforeseen problems regarding your knights this morning, so they had to be reassigned last minute, which took a lot of fuss and arguing.
Johanna follows you and Ilaria down the hall to leave the castle. You can hear her heavy boots on the hardwood flooring, rhythmic, as she was taught to by the military school just outside of Aspen. Ilaria breaks off when her room comes up, leaving just you and your constable. She escorts you down the stairs and to the foyer, where your four knights are patiently waiting for you.
From here, Johanna follows the five of you to the stables, walking through town to get there. The people know better than to stop you today, usually you’re good about trying to stay and touch and understand their issues. A compassion that your mother had tried hard to instill into you. A listening leader makes loyal people.
Johanna holds one of your hands while you swing your leg onto the saddle, readjusting until you’re comfortable. You won’t make it far tonight, but it’ll be a good distance to start. You’re hoping you won’t be out in the elements for long before reaching Tethys.
Johanna holds onto the horse's reins, leading her to the gate. When you get there, she folds an arm over her midsection, and bows deeply, “Safe travels, Queen (Y/n).”
“Thank you Johanna.” You nod, “Be well.”
Two of your knights lead while you stay in the middle, with the last two being behind you. That way, if you’re somehow attacked on the way to Tethys, you’ll have protection from all sides. It’s a quiet trip, you hardly talk to one another unless it’s to find another path around mud.
The sun sets quickly, by the time it’s dipped into the horizon, you’ve made it to the forest. It’s a few hours out at a leisurely pace, which you’re going to do. You don’t want to tire the horses out instantly if you don’t have to. You have a long few days ahead of you.
While you observe the knights making a fire and pitching the tent for you to sleep in, you write in your journal some of the ideas you had on the horse. A few strategies on how you can attack Sacred Heart, a recovery plan for those who surrender, and what to do with the women and children that aren’t involved.
War isn’t pretty, and it’s often drawn out. However, you want it to be over quickly. You want to show Coriolanus that you have power, and a lot of it.
“Are you hungry, Your Majesty?” One of the knights asks.
“No, I had an early dinner at the kingdom.” You murmur, binding the book once more, “Excuse me.”
You head into the trees, moving the stray hairs out of your face. You haven’t used the bathroom since you left, and you’re not going to stand around your knights and have them watch you. The stars give enough light for you to navigate your way. Besides, you can still see the light from the fire.
When you’re done with your business, you start your way back. You have to say, it’s easier to be dressed like this and have to use the restroom than all adorned in your dress and jewelry everyday. You have to plan ten minutes in advance and after to account for the amount of layers you wear.
A pair of hands grab you from hand, one slapping over your mouth, the other grabbing at your arms, pulling you against their chest. You can feel the cold steel of the chestplate, and the leather gloves. You let out a scream between the fingers, and squirm, trying to drop out of his grasp.
You can see them emerge from the trees, your other three knights have also abandoned their place at the campsite, and they’ve come for you. You’re terrified to know what for.
“No!” You scream again, bringing your head forward and slamming the back of it against the knight's nose.
He lets you go. You fall to your knees, pants protecting the delicate skin. You struggle to stand up in the boots, fingers fumbling to find the knife that Johanna gave you to use as protection. You yank it out, swinging it at one of the knights when he comes too close, before turning around and making a run for it out of the trees and into the field you came from. You’re not going to win a fight like this, the best you can do is run, but for how long?
You can hear them shouting after you, profanities spilling from their tongue. You steal a glance behind you, and find that they’ve resorted to horseback, hardly on foot. You try to pick up speed up the hill, but you’d have a better chance in heels. The horse is coming closer, laughter fills the air.
The horse slams into your side, nearly running you over. It throws you off balance, twisting your ankle as you go tumbling down the hill, covering your head while you hit various rocks on the way down. By the time you’ve reached flat ground, you’re covered in cuts, future bruises, and the knights have caught up to you at the bottom.
They hold their swords to your throat, making it impossible for you to escape further.
“King Coriolanus wants your head for his collection.” One of the knights smile, “I’m sure you understand, Your Majesty.”
You tense, ready for what they have prepared for you. You’re not going to give them the satisfaction of begging. You decided a long time ago, that if you ever ended up in this position, that you’d be quiet. What you have prepared in the scenario that you die young is too good to be spoiled early on. Let them get hit by surprise.
For a second, you can see her, before she’s obstructed by a knight. Johanna’s riding at full speed toward you, axes in hand. You duck at the sight of the ax leaving her fingers, forehead hitting the green grass. You can hear the cracking sound of his skull, and then his body collapses.
Johanna throws herself off of the horse, swinging the ax in her hand toward the knights that have worked for you for months. You dodge one of the swords that swing your way, covering your face when Johanna sprays his blood.
Once the last three are down, Johanna drops her weapon, rushing toward you. She drops to her knees, brown eyes wide and searching you for any ghastly injuries.
“Your Highness,” Johanna breathes, her hands shaking on your skin, “Are you alright? I came as fast as I could when I heard—!”
You don’t let her finish, jumping at her, wrapping your arms around her tightly. She squeezes you back, arms locked on your body. You let out a heavy breath, “Thank you, Johanna for saving me.”
--
this was part of my 2k celebration! thank you for participating!
#ilguna#johanna mason#johanna mason imagine#johanna mason oneshot#johanna mason fanfic#johanna mason x reader#thg#the hunger games#fluff#request#2k celebration
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Hey guys, what’s up?
Yes, all of us are invading your inbox to chat! - Reese
Yeah, today has been pretty standard for us so we figured why not reach out? - Lev
Heyo!!! Fellow sides! Lovely to see ya! Welcome in! - Aspen
Lovely to see you! May we offer you tea? Coffee? any kind of imaginary beverage? - Wisteria
Oh- a lot of other people... - Hazel
It's okay dear - they're friends. - Willow
Hello friends!! Nice to meetcha! - Juniper
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where: weaponry in district thirteen
when: day twenty-two of the rebellion
who: aspen barros & beetee latier ( @aspenxbarros )
it's nine in the morning, but there is no real indicator of the fact. district thirteen is deep into the earth. few have clearance to the outside ; beetee is not one of them. no part of him yearns for the outdoors however. given that a war is starting, the victor is rather contented in thirteen. most of his time is spent split between tinkering with new devices and attempting to fully break into the barriers of capitol communications. ( the irony is not lost on the fact that he created those barriers to prevent the very things he is now attempting to accomplish. )
he offers the smallest smile and an efficient nod in aspen's direction as an initial greeting. " good morning, " the older man adds, almost like he forgot that it's polite to verbally greet someone. ( sometimes he does. ) beetee was not the one who found out that aspen had mechanical skills in thirteen, but he was at least someone who saw her potential in growing her skills. thirteen was in a need of more people with that knowledge. " ever work on a hovercraft before ? " he asks curiously. beetee assumes district twelve would not have much access to them, but perhaps he could be wrong. ( sometimes he is. )
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I wish we could have a Leah POV from when she had her funeral rebellion in Cry Wolf. It would be interesting to see the Aspen Creek pack from a different angle.
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AO3 Masterpost:
WIP:
Tough, Tried, True Blue (currently drafting at 131k): Marauders Era, sapphic Wolfstar with transfem!Sirius starting Year 1 at Hogwarts through 7th year. Dual POV. Lady Marauders! Meditations on Girlhood! The slowest burn, but worth it for the sapphic pining.
got what i wanted (but it’s never enough for me, darling) (drafting at 10k): lesbian wolfstar vampire AU
Completed Fics:
Marauders
Not Enough to Save You (8.5k): Remus Lupin is Joan of Arc. Lesbian Wolfstar. (Currently hidden)
Immaculate Conception (Girls Kissing Remix) (4k): This is a sapphic riff on Claude's brilliant the immaculate conception. Go read that before you read this, come back if you want a story set in the same AU except his time they're girls and they're kissing.
Don’t Look Back In Anger (4.5k): This is my post-ATYD closure fic. Remus and Sirius visit Mary in the Spring of 1996.
All for the Game by Nora Sakavic
Not To Blame For Falling (26k): A three part series of post canon AFTG fics focused on Andrew and Neil’s relationship and healing and healing within their relationship. Basically my attempt to address lingering beef with Nora Sakavic about certain aspects of canon that were frustrating to me, especially when it comes to her portrayal of mental illness.
You Just Woke Me Up (~7k): Part 1 of this series. By far my most popular work on AO3. Andrew POV exploring his “holy shit I caught feelings” post canon spiral.
Stupid and Alive (~7k): Part 2 of this series. Also Andrew POV. This fic is mostly exploring Andrews suicidal ideation, but there’s also a Friendsgiving chapter. Idk dudes, check the tags.
stranger than your sympathy (12k): the third in my series of post canon healing AFTG fics. Neil gets a fever, goes to therapy, and starts dealing with his mommy issues.
The Atlas Six by Olivie Blake
The College Years (~50k): Co-written with Mel, my sister and long suffering beta reader. It’s the college prequel. Nico/Gideon, but also kind of all the other ships too because it’s TA6.
I Heard You Were Looking Like the Moon (1.5k): A chapter from The College Years that also works as a one shot. Gideon has a good dream.
Not Yet Drafting:
The Raven Cycle Untitled Pando Fic: So this fic is just a twinkle in my eye right now, but it was supposed to be the long fic I wrote this year before Sapphic Wolfstar took over my brain. But I do have extensive notes for it. Also Mel is going to co-write it with me but she doesn’t know that yet. What’s a girl to do when Maggie Steifvater offhandedly mentions on Twitter that she planned, but will never write, a TRC spinoff involving an 80,000 year old forest? Pando is a clonal colony of Aspen trees in Utah, and while it looks like thousands of individual trees, it’s actually a single organism connected by extensive underground root systems. But really this fic is about Blue taking Gansey to meet her dad’s side of the family and… let’s just say it doesn’t go well. Additionally Adam reconnects with his mother and starts a new job. Ronan adopts a teenage dreamer who is his karmic retribution for his own teen angst rebellion. Henry’s parents split up. I will write this, eventually. Probably. Maybe.
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Journey
Standing atop the Calgary Tower, I can almost glimpse the Golden Boy perched on Legislative Building,
his gilded torso gleaming like the stolen gold that paved the railways, connected our concrete hearts.
Rivers flow through my veins, ancient arteries carrying the silt of history,
River current during the spring thaw, bursting its banks.
I trace the lines on yr palm, a map of the Wapiti Valley
the hoodoos of Drumheller rising
In the shadow of the Saddledome, we two-step to heartbeat
Buffalo Hunt pounding like pistons
Watch the prairie crocuses bloom in defiance of winter's grasp,
lay down in the grass by the Leo Mol Sculpture Garden, bronze faces .
Drive across the Prairie provinces,
stop at the Inglis Grain Elevators, once-mighty Prairie Giants standing sentinel
I want to take you to The Forks,
walk across the Esplanade Riel, the bridge a stitched scar across the flayed skin of the Red River,
wander the streets of St. Boniface, the cathedral bells, a rebellion song.
Stand on the corner of Selkirk and Main,
Climb the stairs of the Peace Bridge, a steel ribbon
watch the sun set fire to the Rockies, the city skyline a jagged jaw rising from the jut of yr collar bone.
I want to take you to Nose Hill, trace the outline of your body in the prairie grass, wildflowers blooming in the hollows,
the whole wide sky watching as we make love, the land itself rising up to meet us, the force of our union.
Drive Icefields Parkway, past glacier-fed lakes turquoise
Plant Saskatoon berries in the back forty of our spines, wild chokecherries in the creases of our thighs,
build a home in the aspen parkland
Canopy filtering the light, dappled across our faces.
We are two Red River carts hitched together, ruts of our passage marking the land
I could traverse the Trans-Canada a thousand times and always find my way back to you, my true magnetic north,
Let's make a blanket fort in the Turtle Mountains, stitch our stories into the fabric of the land itself,
embroider a new constellation to guide the lost and weary travelers home.
Forget the railroad, forget the Stampede, forget the Hudson's Bay Company, forget the colonial measuring of our love.
We are the Red River Rebellion, unstoppable as Prairie wildfire
Let the wheat fields bear witness, the canola a sea of yellow sighs, the endless blue sky our cathedral ceiling.
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