Westeros, the North
Approximately 10.5 Miles Away From the Wall
Flakes of snow leisurely drifted from the dreary, grey skies above. The white powdery substance landed on the thick white blanket below, and the flakes only added to the amount. Scraggly trees filled the large expanse, their wooden limbs like thin arms reaching up towards the sky. A few grand mountains stood proud in the distance, but one could not fully observe them, for the clouds that gifted snow were thick and foggy, draped like a cold blanket over the land. A creature let out an annoyed nicker, trudging through the thick white blanket. Ice crunched underneath the hooves of the animal, it's rider adorned in heavy sheepskin to ward off the biting cold.
Her breath released little clouds into the air, and she coaxed her steed to continue forth. The horse only snorted in reply as the pace began to slow. The beast shivered as the ice nipped at its milky cream fur. There was tugging at the reins to try to coax her steed onwards. Walking next to the horse was a rather round fellow, also draped in heavy furs to rid their skin of the cold. He breathed heavily, and despite his muscles pleading with him to rest, the man continued forward. He kept a steady hand against the warm fur of the animal. "It's getting dark. Colder too,"
The fat one who walked turned towards the tired voice of the horse rider. A gurgle was sounded in the young woman's arms, the sound of an infant.
He replied, "It is. We should camp soon.. need to build a fire," The clouds only began to grow darker as he said to the mare, "Come on, girl."
A snowflake fell upon his pudgy face, which instantly melted against his warm skin. It was always cold. It was a feeling that he was all too familiar with, one that he had to undergo day after day, one that he both disliked, and found relief in. Hell, he found the biting ice a bit nostalgic even.
Memories began to float in his tiring mind of Jon, and the Night's Watch. Although he was definitely not any warrior among the Watch, he did have a brilliant mind. He remembered heartily gnawing on bread and meat, watching as men would tell each other various tales of sword fighting and monstrous creatures with Jon. Monstrous. He swallowed as he suddenly remembered the Other he had faced. He bore only a single weapon that fateful day: a dragonglass dagger.
True, he was undoubtedly terrified of the entire situation, and nearly pissed himself when the withered creature lunged for him. He could faintly feel those cold, bony fingers dig into his clothing, searching for any way to claw into his soft flesh. Finding any way for Sam to bleed. To die. He blinked a few times, shaking his head. He removed himself from the terrifying memory. The three of them approached a rather small clearing, that was sheltered by thin, bare trees. Clicking his tongue at the horse, he lead the animal towards the base of a tree. Once he secured the valiant creature, he heard the light voice of the young woman once again.
"Thank you, Samwell. For everything." Her tone was laced with exhaustion, but it did hold the warm tinge of gratefulness. Her baby made a couple of whines, wanting to suckle at his mother's teat. He smiled. Grabbing a fews spare skins and fur-blankets, he settled them onto the ground.
"Of course," Samwell felt the tips of his ears warm despite the ice. "Feed your little one, and get some rest Gilly. I'll prepare us a fire."
Gilly nodded, her long, brown hair swayed at her movements. Turning her attention back to her son, she exposed her left breast from her furs and let the little one suckle greedily, biting at her nipple like a young wolf pup. Samwell however, had gathered a few sticks dry enough to prepare them a hearty fire. He walked across the clearing and back to Gilly, settling the objects down gingerly. Hopefully he can conjure one up.
He felt his fingers grow numb despite the fur gloves he wore to shield his skin. The mare released whicker followed by another snort, her long haired tail swaying left and right a few times, acting like a broom to rid snow. A comfortable silence soon followed as Sam began to coax the fire, using a spare flint and steel to bring the fire to life. A few more tries, and a spark was caught.
Smiling to himself in victory, he said, "Well, we'll be a little warm tonight."
Gilly looked up and smiled. Soon darkness fell, which only grew colder. Soon, Sam and Gilly found themselves huddled close, their faces alight with shades of orange and red by the hungry flames that licked at the air. Although Sam was still awake, the wildling woman's head leaned against his shoulder in slumber.
Her son too, was wrapped in a thick bundle of furs, slept soundly. Just to make sure the boy was in fact asleep, Samwell brought a thick finger to gently trace the child's face. Good. He was still warm. Samwell gently directed his tired gaze up to gaze at the black sky. Smoke curled upwards, and the smell invaded his nose. Sam didn't mind the sting. Nevertheless, he found himself actually relieved when the black did show a few white speckles of luminous, glimmering light. He knew it wouldn't snow much tomorrow . Thank the gods.
Oftentimes Sam did observe the night sky for hours on end. Sometimes he wondered what actually lay out there amongst the stars. They were beautiful, often used as another source of navigation in Westeros to guide sailors through the seas. To guide those to land. To safety. He sighed. But Sam knew damn well that safety was strife now during the ongoing war within the land. Adding onto the Others that now began to roam, (and being attacked by one of them), Sam would have to keep an cautious eye open for himself. And for Gilly.
But a little sleep wouldn't hurt, could it?
He needed rest. It will be a few days until they will arrive to the Wall, so any scrap of strength he had would be important to keep. Bringing his gaze back down, Sam closed his eyes tiredly and let the void of sleep engulf him entirely.
Hoth, Outer Rim Territories
Rebel Alliance Base
"'Ey, Chewie, mind givin' me that hydrospanner, will you?" A strained voice called down below, within the hyperdrive repair pit of the ship, named the Millennium Falcon. Boy, and was she a beauty. Fast as hell too. Loud, stomping footsteps were heard, followed by a series of mixed guttural growls and chortles. A brown, hazel-haired creature kneeled down, its large hairy palm holding the tool needed that the voice had requested.
Like a viper, a pale, human hand snatched the tool from the creature's palm. "Thank you, goddammit." an obviously annoyed voice continued.
The Wookiee breathed a few irritable growls, baring his teeth down at where the voice was heard once again. There was suddenly a resounding ' clank!' which was followed by a few absolutely nasty curses in an alienoid language. The Wookiee released a throaty growl which was filled with amusement, sounding almost like a laugh. Even if you can call it that. The natives of the planet Kashyyyk made a few peculiar noises that can prove difficult to decipher. At that, a brown-haired head popped out, glaring directly in front of the laughing Wookiee.
"You just shut your trap, hairball," the man pointed a dirtied, gloved finger to emphasize his point. "Be thankful that you ain't the one workin' on the hyperdrive."
Chewie's laughter turned into a low growl, and he crossed his furred arms as he stood to his full, tall height. His furred head nearly touched the ceiling of the Falcon. Chewbacca glared at his partner, emitting a huff. Well, even though some Wookiees are full of bantha shit sometimes, they can be a sufficient helping hand, and a loyal friend. Chewie was often the one who worked on the Falcon 's controls, helping maintain her health and well-being for his partner. Soon enough after sharing a fit of glares, the middle-aged man returned to work on repairing the ship's main hyperdrive, followed by a few more little bruises and cuts that were in need of repairs. His fingers shook slightly as he worked, the cold nibbling on his skin like gooberfish to fish-food. The pilot of the ship released a sigh, his breath misting in the icy air.
How do I even manage on this galaxies-forsaken planet?
He often wondered that to himself, but he knew the answer. The man was committed to serving the Rebel Alliance, and not only that, but being good friends with a few of them in it. Those being her wonderful majesty Leia, and the blonde-haired kid with a laser-stick, Luke. He smirked to himself as he thought of them as he worked, as he reminisced of his antics with the two of them. He heard Chewie give a growl, offering to help his comrade. The thickly clothed human grit his teeth as he replied, " No, Chewie. Go find Luke or Leia to talk to. I'm busy as is."
Almost as if he saw the Wookiee open his jaw to argue, the man shot, "You're a bit chatty today, huh? Well, I'm not. Go talk to the kid or her majesty."
Chewie gave a muffled grumble under his breath, and walked off, leaving the pilot alone to continue healing wounds on the Falcon.
Only a few moments later though, the pilot heard friendly growls erupt merrily in the Falcon 's halls, accompanied by the very familiar and warm voice of Leia. Chewie was now saying to Leia on how his buddy acted naughtily towards him, and a frown formed on his face. Like a kid tattling. He stopped his ministrations on the ship. He snapped, not realizing that the young woman stood above the repair pit where he sat in, staring directly down at him.
"Well, he couldn't shut up, and I needed to concentrate, dammit!" and he began to rant even more, abruptly sending him into a foul mood.
"Han."
That shut him up.
Han then sighed, dutifully looking upwards to meet the non-impressed frown and quirked brow of Leia. Chewie stood behind her, his furred arms crossed. The Wookiee growled."Look princess, I'm sorry, alright?"
Leia didn't look impressed. Actually, she looked pretty karking annoyed. Wonderful. The former smuggler knew how the Princess could get when she was irritated. Even though most of the time it was directly at him, Han didn't usually mind it. He enjoyed their banter, and how her gaze would linger on him only, entirely focused on him. She was pretty, he knew that much. Feisty too. So any scrap of attention he could get from her, even though it devolved into irritable retorts, he would get. But he knew damn well that he was in the wrong. Han generally disliked dealing with the hyperdrive of the Falcon , so having to deal with it was an entire fiasco on its own. Han's frown deepened. Leia, dressed in warm clothing to shield herself from the icy winds and ice of the current planet their base was stationed in, replied, "Don't apologize to me, apologize to Chewie."
He quirked a brow towards her, as if he silently questioned, 'Seriously?'
Leia was definitely serious. She was like a mother trying to force her two children to say sorry for a fight they got into. Kriff.
"Look, Chewie, I.. apologize, alright? Sorry for acting like a stuck-up bastard."
The hairy Wookiee bared his teeth and gave a guttural whine, accepting his apology. At that, the furry beast turned right around and waltzed off, probably off to find Luke of the story of what occurred, leaving him with Leia alone.
"What's wrong, Han?"
Leia gingerly sat herself down upon the edge, her head tilted slightly to observe him. Her eyes were soft, the hardness in which the man had saw before only moments ago gone. Slapping the hydrospanner down onto the Falcon 's floor, the man hefted himself up from below, saying, "Just a little bit sore, sweetheart. Nothin' that you should worry about," grabbing the flat square object which hid the hyperdrive away and securing it above, he continued, "You here to give me another lecture again, huh?"
"Well, it certainly seems like you want me to," she retorted.
"Go ahead, your majesty. I'm all ears,"
"Don't call me that,"
"'Mmkay, Princess."
She glared at him, and Han grinned in obvious amusement. Taking his gloves off, he heard the Rebel say, "It's.. Luke."
The man pursed his lips, feeling a tad bit jealous. Always concerned about Luke, wasn't she? Luke this, Luke that. Give me a break. Well, he was the Rebel Hero who destroyed the Death Star, saving the Rebel's asses from the wrath of the Empire. Probably loved the kid more than him. Yeah, Leia probably has a little thing goin' on with him. As more of those disturbing thoughts engulfed his tired brain, Han shoved it quickly away. Crossing his arms, he inquired, "What's the kid gotten into now? Everything alright?"
"Everything is alright, it's just.. I'm worried, Han. He's young, and I think him being stuck here has taken a toll on him."
Han scoffed at that. She was young too, and she acted ten times more mature than the average Rebel commander. What? Did the kid want a break from the harsh blizzards here? He would gladly join him. Hell, he even wanted to take Leia away from here for just a little bit. Han could hear the hint of exhaustion in her voice, and he easily related to it. Han offered, "Then why don't we," he brought both of his arms out and gestured around himself, "Take a break? Maybe go off-world somewhere for lil' bit and then come right back here. No pressure,"
"Han, I can't. You know that," Leia pinched the bridge of her nose wearily. "I have a job to do."
The former smuggler barked out a fit of laughter. Leia removed her hand from her face, as her eyes widened. Leia's brow furrowed and she hissed, "What are you laughing for?"
After his fit, he was left with tears in his eyes. The pilot replied smugly, despite the few giggles that managed to escape, "You," Han answered. Leia rolled her eyes.
"You do deserve a break, Princess. I'm damn sure that there are other generals to substitute for you. Besides, I can see those circles underneath your eyes. Definitely need one."
"Han-"
"Nuh-uh. How long has it been since we've been here, eh? A few cycles now?" Han interjected, now feeling exhilarated to have a chance to leave the planet for once, with Luke and Leia.
"No, Han. We've only been here for a few standard months now, nearing a cycle."
"Feels like it." He grumbled.
Leia rolled her eyes at Han's remark. His word was true. She did feel tired-no, scratch that,- drained. Maybe a break wouldn't be so bad after all. She did work tirelessly to secure the safety of their base, adding to make sure that each and every Rebel was healthy mentally and physically. Most looked up to her, and even though she was given word from some that she worked too hard, she ignored them, tossing excuses. Being a shotcaller beside Mon, Ackbar, and other leaders of the Alliance was a very draining position. Leia deeply honored her place in the Alliance and cherished it. She knew her Father would be proud, her Mother too. Leia was very prideful of her rank, and it would prove difficult to see someone take her place, even though it would just be for a small while. It was like a small battle forming within her, one side that enforced her to continue her duties, while the other that fought for her emotional well-being and the special friendship she held with Luke, Han, and Chewie. As Leia chewed her lip, Han watched the Rebel Princess intently.
Part of him wanted to pull her into a hug. Really, he did. He wanted a little extra warmth too. Han quirked a brow, and after a long bout of silence, he asked, "Well..?"
"Fine," Leia finally concluded. "I'll speak with High Command."
Han's lips built into a wide smile, pleased with her answer.
A trill, followed by a few sarcastic beeps emitted within the hangar of the base. Replying to the series of beeps was rather pompous.
"Artoo-deetoo! You shouldn't say such things about him! Those definitions actually fit you more, you bucket of grease,"
A golden-painted Protocol Droid followed a blue and white painted Astromech through the blanket of white, passing by X-Wings that lined up in neat rows, followed by U-Wings and snowspeeders. A few Rebel pilots ran to and fro, calling their comrade's names. Riding upon Hoth's native bipeds, Tauntauns, were Rebel Officers. Their high-pitched whines echoed throughout the base and they bounded throughout the wide expanse of the hangar bay. Standing next to one pilot in particular, dressed in their signature bright orange attire was the Wookiee. The Protocol Droid announced, "It seems that Chewbacca is talking to Master Luke,"
Artoo, the Astromech, gave a single beep in affirmation. Increasing his speed, Artoo expelled trills to announce his presence to the rising Jedi, and the young man's smile widened. The Rebel pilot held his helm in one hand, using another to run through his blonde hair. Chewie grunted as the two Droids approached, and the golden Droid addressed the two. "Why hello Master Luke, and Chewbacca."
"Hey Threepio and Artoo. I just got off from a little patrol, so I'm here now," Luke grinned as he heard Chewie give a throaty growl. "Yeah yeah, Chewie. You don't need to worry about me. I'm perfectly fine, see?"
Luke gestured to himself, and the Wookiee cocked his head to the side. However, Artoo gave a few terse beeps, and Luke redirected his attention onto the Astromech Droid. His youthful blue eyes widened slightly in surprise, and the pilot questioned, "Wait, what? Leia and Han wanna see me? Why's that?"
Threepio answered instead, "I'm afraid it is classified until you meet them. Come along, Master Luke. Let us not be late," Threepio continued, "And the Wookiee too."
Young Skywalker cocked his brow, and exchanged a curious look with Chewie. The Wookiee only shrugged, as he too didn't know what was up. Watching for a few seconds as the Droids turned and walked off, Luke and the tall furball followed suit through the snow.
Luke did have a few rising questions on why, exactly, his two friends wanted to see him. Maybe they wanted to tell him of the Empire's movements and what's up with them. Or something else, maybe? The Force was at a steady calm though, and nothing seemed out of the ordinary. Just to make sure, the young man reached out, brushing his tendrils against others around him, alongside the atmosphere of the base. Nothing. This was his new home, and quite a stark contrast to where he lived his entire life. Here on Hoth, it was cold. But Tatooine? The complete opposite. Albeit he definitely preferred the hot over the cold.
Skywalker shivered as he felt the ice gnaw at his bones through the suit he wore. It had been a few months now since he remained here at the base on Hoth, and over a year since the tremulous victory of destroying the Death Star. The very memory of it was victorious, but at the same time, Luke felt.. guilt . He was the sole harbinger of death unto the Imperials that sat within that very space station. Although he told those he trusted what he felt, that being Leia and Han, Leia reassured him that he saved billions of lives in the process, and yet, it didn't deter what he felt. Although it was sometimes a fleeting feeling, it still haunted Skywalker. Interrupting his thoughts was a growl in question from the Wookiee, and the blonde-haired boy turned to look up towards the hairy humanoid. "I'm okay, Chewie. Seriously."
The Wookiee wasn't convinced. Instead, Chewbacca placed a furred palm on Skywalker's small shoulder and patted it gently. Luke smiled warmly at the Wookiee's show of friendliness.
Entering the snow-packed hallways that led towards the intelligence rooms and medical bays of the frosted planet, Threepio and Artoo entered the designated room to their left, and Luke heard the Droids greet whom he was to meet. Luke entered the room with Chewie and met with the smuggler and the Princess looking straight at him. Before he could open his lips to ask, Leia interrupted.
"Luke, I have decided that we will go off-world together, and have ourselves.. a break."
Leia's hazel gaze zeroed in on Han when she said her final word, and the man just shrugged. Although he still wore his trademark smirk. Chewie bleated in question to his smuggler partner, but Solo's mouth was still shut. Luke on the other hand, was a tad confused and surprised.
"Why off-world though? Wouldn't it be dangerous for us to go out there into the Galaxy with the Empire trying to sniff us out?"
That's when Han answered, "Kid, trust me. I know the perfect planet for us, so you shouldn't be acting like a scared little loth-cat,"
Skywalker quirked a brow, focusing his attention back on the Princess. She stood there, her arms crossed, but Luke continued cautiously, "Look, I really appreciate it guys, but, I need to do my job here in the Alliance. I can't just abandon my post and zip on outta here!" Although it would be great if I could. He added silently. True, he was a little eager to get on outta here, but Luke held a lot of responsibilities here at the Base.
Leia's face slowly built into a smile. She said smoothly, "Luke. I have just talked with High Command, and they let the four of us go on out."
Huh?
Luke's face twisted into startled confusion. Something was up, he knew it. Leia would never act like this! Tossing away her duties to schedule herself a break. (Even though she needed one). This was all Han's doing. It had to be! Most likely aided by them staying at this cold and icy planet, but still. Han saw the plastered look of puzzlement on the young pilot's face, and the smuggler grinned smugly. "But- what? Why can't I just stay here?" Luke argued.
"Because I deemed it so." Leia said with finality, added on with an annoyed scowl. "We leave right at this moment. Pack what you need boys, I'll be waiting at Han's ship."
And with that the young Princess left, followed by Threepio and Artoo. They left a confused Chewie and Luke, and a relaxed, know-it-all Han Solo. Young Skywalker's blue gaze followed after the Princess, but turned to face Han. This was all too sudden. And yet, Luke found himself a bit happy that he was able to get off of this ice-rock. But, Luke asked slowly, "Han? What are you planning?"
"Nothin' kiddo. Like the lady said, we're goin' on a little space-trip outta here,'' Han shuffled past and looked to the Wookiee, "Come on Chewie. Yer comin' with us too."
Chewie looked towards Skywalker, and gave a shrug of his furry shoulders. The Wookiee then sauntered off, and the young blonde-haired pilot quickly followed.
After they trudged through the slush, Luke made sure he was still equipped with his Lightsaber. He knew that Han would have their necessities needed at the Falcon , but the only object he would need was his Father's Lightsaber, if something were to happen. Luke was a little suspicious of Han, for he never told him of what planet they were going to. Maybe it was a surprise? Sure hoped it was at least a decent planet. Walking into the ship by the Falcon's main ramp, Luke called through the halls as he was the last to enter, "Do we know where we are going?"
The ramp closed after him, and Skywalker rolled his eyes at not being answered. He quickened his pace towards the Falcon's cockpit, where he found Han and Chewie busily pressing buttons settling their controls to prepare the ship for flight. Leia was settled in a seat behind Han, silently observing the two with a slightly quirked brow. "Well? Where?"
"Not gon' tell you, kid. It's a secret. " Han said. "Now sit down, dammit."
Luke frowned. He heard the voice of Threepio near, with the familiar trills and beeps of Artoo. Obeying, Luke settled himself down on the chair behind the Wookiee, plumping the cushion to make himself comfortable. Through the viewport of the Millennium Falcon, he saw a few Rebels begin to guide their ship out of the cavern-like entrance of the hangar, and soon enough, the Falcon zoomed on out. The powerful thrum of the craft's engines rumbled, and the Wookiee gave a growl. Leia and Han exchanged a few words which developed into a neutral conversation, and the void of space was then revealed to the four of them. Han and Chewbacca placed their hands upon the lever which thrusted them into hyperspace. The stars turned into thin, white lines, and the craft was then jostled into the blueish-white tunnel of hyperspace.
Luke dearly hoped that Han wasn't up to anything. Although he trusted the man, he had a bad feeling about this.