She's a Rebel [Star Wars | Luke Skywalker] *EDITING*

The Last Living Rose

"'It'll be alright'," I snap sarcastically to Luke, our hands and feet bound together around long wooden poles by vines, the procession of Ewoks carrying us winding through the ever-darkening forest. I crane my neck to try and look for Han, Chewie, or the droids, but can only catch Threepio. He's being carried on a litter, like a king, by four of the furry creatures.

"Listen, this was the last situation I thought we'd end up in today," he retorts, the Ewoks chattering and cheering amongst themselves, admiring their new possessions.

"What? The net wasn't enough?" I reply, looking behind me, only to find him staring back with a less than impressed look on his face.

Once again I attempt to pull myself up to try and figure out where we're being taken, only to find that we're being carried across a shaky, narrow, wooden walkway, high up in the giant trees, the path lit by torches. My stomach churns as I look down through the branches; I can't even make out the ground. The Ewoks signal our arrival into what seems to be some sort of village - huts made out of wood and mud surrounding a burning campfire upon a large, wooden platform in the trees - by blowing horns and cheering to each other in their native tongue.

I end up being propped up against a trunk in between Luke and Chewie in front of what looks like a barbecue pit constructed from rocks and branches. Han, however, ends up being hung on the spit directly above it, looking around in concern, with Threepio being gently set down on an elevated platform above the pit.

"I have a really bad feeling about this," Han murmurs, looking up at Luke and I.

"If only we had some way of getting out of this," I add, looking over to Luke with raised eyebrows, making him frown at me, Chewie letting out a disgruntled howl.

"They're hardly Sand People, Natalie," he replies, looking exasperated with me, and I attempt to shrug, my hands still bound above my head.

"You don't know that."

Turning my attention away from him, I spot Artoo too, bound to a stretcher like structure, swivelling his head and beeping a frantic series of bleeps as the Ewoks surround him, curiously poking the astromech droid.

Whom I assumed to be the chief is nattering to another Ewok wearing a skull atop its head, a wooden staff adorned with decoration in one hand, Luke's lightsaber in the other, the two of them surrounding Threepio. He looks like some sort of medicine man, and he addresses Threepio, the two of them striking up a conversation.

"What did he say?" Han asks the golden protocol droid, who's looking rather flustered in his new position.

"I'm rather embarrassed, General Solo, but it appears you are to be the main course at a banquet in my honour," Threepio explains in a calm voice.

Chewbacca lets out another howl beside me, the Ewoks beginning to fill the pit under Han with firewood.

"Can't you do something about this, Goldenrod?" I complain, frowning at Threepio.

"I'm afraid not, Miss Hawkins. As I explained to General Solo, it wouldn't be proper."

I roll my eyes at his response, drums beginning to beat around the camp. But then I sense someone familiar, and my eyes dart to one of the huts. Leia emerges from the mud hut, wearing a brown animal-skin dress, her long hair flowing down her back.

"Leia!" I call, Han and Luke noticing her too.

"Leia!" Han repeats, relief in his voice at seeing her alive, and he looks slightly embarrassed as her eyes move to him tied to the pole above the pit.

She goes to move towards us, but the Ewoks protest, blocking her way with raised spears.

"Your Royal Highness!" Threepio addresses, bowing his head ever so slightly, Artoo chiming in with a whistle and Chewie groaning out a welcome too.