#lothcat writes

A chance at stealing an Imperial ship during a flubbed mission goes awry, leaving Ezra and Zeb stranded on an uninhabited planet and in the middle of a snowed-over forest. Things go from bad to worse as they discover the ship wasn't even worth stealing, and as Ezra's health starts failing. It's up to Zeb to keep him alive until help can arrive. 

“ Ezra was looking forward to a few days of peace and quiet after a hard mission, instead he's stuck with Zeb in the middle of nowhere “

“You haven’t studied much of the philosophy behind being a Jedi, have you?” Master Billaba didn’t stir from where she knelt, to all appearances oblivious to everything around her in her meditation. Ezra had seen Kanan pull that trick often enough to know it wasn’t anything more flashy than having a good Sabbac-face.

 “Well, no, but it wasn’t like it was all that important.” Ezra winced at how the words sounded. “I mean, I know it’s important, but we were trying to stay alive.” The words sounded like a lousy excuse even to him. It was true though, they hadn’t had time to sit around discussing the meaning behind the universe when there was survival to worry about.

 He didn’t know much about Master Billaba, except she wasn’t much like he expected. He had known her name and that she was Kanan’s Master, but Kanan had always grown tense and uncomfortable when the subject came up and Ezra never wanted to push. He’d half expected an older, female version of Kanan. While it was true there was a great deal of physical resemblance that he hasn’t expected, personality-wise so far there was nearly nothing in common. He knew she was probably deliberately distancing herself from him, but when Kanan didn’t trust someone he was openly hostile or overly friendly. This calm sort of apathy was alien to him, even if Ezra knew she had to care or she wouldn’t have asked him to meet her here. Here was a greenhouse garden inside the Temple, Ezra wasn’t sure if the roof panels were actual viewports to let in the sunlight, or a clever viewscreen to mimic a sky, either way it gave the impression of open air. He didn’t recognize half the plants and he was fairly sure they were all ornamental rather than useful, but it was a pleasant change from the nearly sterile seeming hallways and rooms he’d been in so far.

 There was a long padded mat stretched out near the small fountain where Master Billaba was kneeling, and Ezra stood awkwardly in front of her until she opened her eyes and gestured to the rest of the mat. Ezra hoped that was a good sign, moving to sit on the unused section of mat beside her.

 “What did you learn?” Her voice was calm, and expecting to be called on the poor excuse and to try and defend it, Ezra was left floundering.

 “Um, to trust in the Force, to trust your instincts but not your emotions, overindulgence is forbidden, attachments are forbidden. That sort of thing, you mean the philosophy part and not the fighting part, right.” Ezra tried to think back, things tended to have come in bits and pieces, nothing like when he’d attended Imperial classes.

 “A simplistic description, but it’s a start. Do you know why there are rules regarding attachments?” Billaba questioned him, Ezra shifted uncomfortably.

 “I’m... not sure because they’re supposed to be forbidden, but at the same time I’ve seen how they can help, that people working together can do a lot more good than individuals acting on their own. I mean, I don’t want to question a fundamental part of it, but…” Ezra watched Master Billaba’s profile, not that it did him much good. Kanan sometimes allowed questioning like that, but it was easy to read if he was just going to get a frustrated admonishment to figure it out himself or if Kanan was in the mood to talk about it. Master Billaba’s expression never changed and he couldn’t tell if she was annoyed or not.

 “It is a complicated topic, and something that even old Jedi Masters have conflicting opinions on. This is how I learned it.” Master Billaba moved then, reaching out to select two near identical decorative rocks from around the nearby flowerbed, placing them in front of them both. “Which rock is the more valuable one?”

 “I don’t know.” Ezra replied honestly.

 “What if I told you that one of these rocks was a gift from a powerful king thanking the Jedi for saving his planet, and one was simply part of a batch the landscapers bought?” Billaba asked.

 “That… sounds like one of those trick questions. I get the feeling I’m supposed to say the king rock is, but I’m probably wrong.” Ezra answered, and for the first time got a change in expression, a small smile.

 “Not entirely, you’re supposed to think about why the story behind the rocks would make one appear more valuable than the other, even though with no backstory they are to all appearances ordinary pebbles. It is in the nature of sentients to assign value arbitrarily to things, on one planet humans born with green eyes are rare and seen as blessed, unusually wise and destined for greatness because their rarity is valuable. On another planet humans born with green eyes are just as rare, and seen as cursed and inherently lesser than others because why would a generous deity not give as many as possible the advantageous eye colors? And science says that green eyes are simply a gene expression, with no good or ill associated with them. The Jedi believe that the attachment of value to an eyecolor is inherently wrong and people born with green eyes are equal in the Force to those born with any other eye color, or those with no eyes, or many.” Billaba explained patiently, and Ezra hardly dared to breathe. It was the longest someone had talked to him without asking a question about who or what he was since he arrived.

 After a long pause though, he realized he should probably say something. “That… makes a great deal of sense.”

 “It does. However, like most things it gets complicated quickly.” She reached out to pick up both rocks, holding them out to him. Ezra warily reached out to take them.

 “Now, what if you were told that one of these rocks should be destroyed and one preserved. Which would you chose?”

 “I don’t know,” Ezra bit his lip, looking at them both. “I mean, if one really was a gift from a king then maybe it should be saved, but that’s kind of not fair to the other rock because it’s not its fault it wasn’t special. They should be equal, but…”

 “And if the king’s rock wasn’t chosen, since others do assign value to it then it’s possible they could become angry at you for choosing wrongly. Or they could become angry that you saved the valuable rock and feel that the less valuable rock deserved to be saved. There are those who would even say in fairness that both rocks should be destroyed, in order to show fairness.” Master Billaba shook her head slightly at that. “That last belief you will encounter even among Jedi, I have always felt it a sign of immaturity that they are so attached to the idea of not showing any attachment that they end up inviting more destruction than is unavoidable, but many would loudly disagree.”

 “I’d save them both, if I could.” Ezra said softly, and then nearly jumped at the hand on his shoulder, a light touch that still carried a feeling of reassurance.

 “I have always felt that is a noble goal, as long as it’s tempered by the understanding that you are only one person and you must make peace with the fact that destruction will happen even if you make no mistakes.” Master Billaba said, and Ezra brightened a little at the praise, faint as it was.

 “Why are you telling me all this?” It was maybe a risky question, but so far Master Billaba seemed… reasonable at least.

 “Because I believe you, Ezra Bridger. There are many who doubt you. There are those who believe you are an agent of evil, there are those who believe you a fool who encountered a powerful artifact and was fed false visions, and there are those who believe you are attempting to deceive us for whatever reason, but I believe you are a young man who came unstuck in time. Which means there are three paths before you.” Billaba held up a hand, raising one finger. “The first is that you attempt to get back to your proper time and place, if something was indeed capable of sending you here, then it follows that there would be some way of returning you.” A second finger was raised. “The next is that you leave this place and attempt to live whatever life and what happens, happens. I do not think you will wish to take this path, but it is an option.” She raised a final finger. “The third is that you stay and attempt to change the future for what may be the better. And I wonder if you’ve truly thought that through.”

 “I…” Ezra started, and then stopped. He was silent for several long moments. “If that happens, I lose everyone, don’t I? Even if I see them again they won’t be the same people I left, they won’t know me. Sabine… Sabine would be an infant right now if she’s even been born, Hera’s not much older than her. It couldn’t ever be the same.” He’d encountered Ahsoka and Rex, but he had been so overwhelmed it hadn’t clicked with him what it truly meant. “My parents are alive right now, and I can’t ever see them.”

 The look Master Billaba turned on him was full of quiet sympathy. “And there is why so many are quick to reject the very concept of attachments as wrong. We are all fallible, and when choices bring pain then it’s hard to untangle what you truly believe is the best path and which path is simply the least painful one. There are no easy answers, and sometimes there’s not even a right answer, but you can’t avoid the question.”

 Ezra was quiet, staring down at the rocks he was still holding. He was squeezing them tight enough that his knuckles had turned white and he hadn’t even noticed.

And maybe Cassian is a little insane himself because there’s a race coming up and he tells her she should enter. He tells her she should put up her battered old astromech for the entry fee and she punches him in the face. Later when his cheekbone stops throbbing he tells her a face punch hurts you just as much and it’s better to go for the gut. She takes the advice with the same sort of practicality they both understand too well and it’s not friendship but it’s something. 

When she scrapes up the entry fee somehow he takes one look at the odds against her and puts credits on her, a lot of credits. Maybe he’ll be chewed out and demoted but he can look into hard green eyes and see the same sort of... something that’s helped him win in worse odds.

She wins, of course, and the winner’s prize is enough to keep her in fuel for a while, maybe let her be a little pickier about the jobs she takes. To maybe breathe and rest and start fighting instead of just surviving. Or maybe... 

“Here. Your half of the credits you made me.” He presses them on her and she tries to refuse. Credits like these always come with strings, but it’s enough to keep her comfortable for a long time. Or to trade in her old junker of a ship and astromech for one of the new light freighters for sale in the shipyard. 

She trades in the junker, but not the astromech. 

 When everything’s all signed for he shakes her hand. 

“Congratulations Captain, I’m Fulcrum.” And with the way her eyes narrow just a bit she maybe knows how new the title is in his mouth. He doesn’t care, they both know she’s not going to pass this up. 

He doesn’t stay her Fulcrum of course, he passes her off to someone with more experience with something like disappointed relief and he keeps fighting and lying and doing what he does best. He never asks. The cells are all called by their codes and he never asks if behind one of those code names is a twi’lek who flies like she was born to. It’s easier that way, it always is. 

The first time he hears the words General Syndulla his first thought is that somehow they managed to pry that old clone war veteran off his planet. Then he sees green eyes as hard as gemstone and he stands a little straighter. 

It doesn’t come close to balancing his scale, not with everything he’s done. But sometimes it makes it a little easier to carry the weight. 

“Ezra was looking forward to a few days of peace and quiet after a hard mission, instead he's stuck with Zeb in the middle of nowhere.

If Anon never answers how about Rexsoka reconnecting after the Ghost crew have recruited him for the rebellion.

 (Note, promps get posted unbeta’d so there may be typos and whatnot.)

*cracks knuckles* With Valentines coming up, I am in the mood to write romantic fluff. I will try to take a total of three prompts for three different pairings to be (hopefully) posted on the 14th.  1. Rexsoka  2. Zeb/Sabine 3. Anon <3 Pairings I’ll be willing to give a shot under the cut. If one’s not listed, ask me. Preferably characters that appear in Rebels. 

Zeb’s footfalls hardly made any sound on the freshlyfallen snow, even with the boots he was wearing. They were more like glovesthan what humans would think of as boots, each toe individually encased toallow for movement and grip. It still wasn’t as good as being barefoot, but heknew from experience that without some protection the snow could soak throughhis fur and leave his feet painfully cold.