Flyboy and the French bird {Closed}

[Asteria]

Reserved: @fandommulti
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[Asteria]

The wind was slowly blowing, swiping the leaves that just fell from the trees. The small farm wasn't located too far from the main road that led to the closest town from which the small family got with necessary things. Though, having animals and enough plants wasn't making them take that road too often. The smell of old wood would come from the house and even it it seemed so cold and untouchable, the house was so warm inside. The warmth coming from the tea would get to your nostrils, scrambled eggs would make your mouth water. And everything was coming from Dianne's hands. The young petite woman was moving along the kitchen like a real cook, her dark chocolate hair being messily caught up. Her nightgown was still on, covered by a dark green shawl. The plates were carefully placed on the table, the tea was poured in the cups and with a sigh, Dianne cleaned her hands with a cloth.


"Delicieux smell," the voice of the old woman was heard along the steps that were made. Dianne welcomed her with a smile as she got the cloth back on the wood table. "Always my early bird," it wasn't something unusual to hear English mixed with French in this house. Especially if it came from Dianne. Her mother still had to work on the accent, but marrying an English man helped her improve. And Dianne being the daughter of an English man who always spoke just English in the household was making this girl know two languages from a shot.


"I was studying, thought I'll do the breakfast." Dianne said as she watched her mother sit down. Studying. That was a big word from a woman that lived on a simple farm, but Dianne had her own dreams. Being a written, go to Oxford one day perhaps, big dreams.But easily stopped with just an annoyed face from her mother.


"Studying with such noise from the planes? Dianne, when will you finally agree to marry a wealthy man and get us out of here? Studying doesn't..." But she was cut by Dianne who threw her fork on the plate. The same conversation over and over again, like a broken machinery.


"Papa made this farm for you and you were never pleased by anything." Dianne said,annoyance in her voice as she rose from her seat and before her mother would say anything else, she moved right to her room.


The messy hair remained, but her dress was changed to a day one, of a nude pinkish color. Her boots were on, but she kept the shawl as she took her notebook in her hands. Dianne exited the house under the careful watch of her mother.


Pigs were fed. Cows were fed. Chickens were free and Dianne remained alone, under the shadow of a tree, notebook open as she was carefully sketching the image in front of her, her curious eyes studying every curve of the farm and of the tress.


Until a shot was heard. Another one. Dianne dropped her notebook with slightly shaky hands as she rose up, studying carefully the sky. Planes were moving and it was just afternoon. Her mother was out of the house too, looking desperately around for her daughter. Dianne wanted to return to her, but as she picked up her notebook the sound of a working motor was heard not far. The image of a plane moving down close to the field made the hair rise on her back. Never had a plane stopped here. The plane landed softly, but in the same time in a hurried manner on the field, the corn that was just planted falling on the ground in the matter of seconds. Dianne perked up, curious brown eyes searching for any kind of movement. Someone was hurt?


"Dianne! Dans la maison maintenant!" Her mother shouted but Dianne didn't pay attention. Someone was hurt perhaps. These men were risking their lives to protect them and she should return in the house and act like nothing happened? But going there wasn't a smart choice though. "Dianne!" To that shout, Dianne brought her notebook to her chest, lifted her skirts with one hand and started to run to the field, her mother almost fainting at the image.


Moving through the corn, Dianne was closed and closer to the plane. The smell coming from the engine filled her lungs making her cough slightly. And stepping over one last corn, she was in front of it, the machinery so close. Her pale cheeks were now red from the run as Dianne moved to the side of the plane. Studying the person, Dianne cleared her throat to get the words to come out. "Need any help? Assistance? Are you hurt?" Her french accent was present, but she spoke in English. Many men in the army weren't from France, she couldn't assume he would be. Though, never imagined she would end up in a situation like this one.

@fandommulti
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[fandommulti]

It was a day with a blue cloudless sky. The sun was shining like crazy and you were lucky if you didn't get burned when you were out there. Some would say it was the worst day possible to fly, som would say it was the best. Easier to see and to navigate, but that goes for both the frence and the germans which ment that today was the perfect day to be shut down. Not that he was worried, he got a lot of confidence in his skills. And it was one of the reasons he decided to be a pilot, because of the danger, and a much nicer kind of danger than the one in the battlefield where the door soldiers were. They never knew when the battlefield would begin.


At the moment they were flying over France. They weren't on the way to the battlefield, actually they were on the way home. Which ment that none of the 3 airplanes carried any bombs.


Suddenly as he looked at the wing, he saw a tear in the canvas. A couple of not very nice words were muttered under Bills breath. He needed to land, and he needed to do it right now. Else he would suddenly crash, and that could end very very badly. If he could manage to do an emergency landing, he could survive this. It was always very dangerous when a damage happened to your airplane, but he was confident he could do this.


Carefully he adjustet his flying googles which were covering all of the skin around his eyes, and of course his eyes aswell. At the moment a black leather hood was covering his blond hair. He was a real American, tall, broad shoulders, blond hair and blue eyes. But this moment he couldn't risk being unfocused. Again he focused on the landing. It ended up as more of a crash than a landing. Honestly he didn't remember how he got from the air to the ground, but now he was just there. The engine was smoking, his face was smugded and his airplane was a total wreck. He needed a plan. His mates would think he was dead, he couldn't use the plane to get back, and he spoke next to nothing frence.


But before this plan of his managed to form a woman was kneeling out side the airplane. She was looking just like how he had always Imagine a frence woman to look like. Petite with dark hair. At first he didn't realished he understood what she said, the frence accent confusing him. But it was actually english. Good old proper english.


"If I'm hurt? No not at all. Uhmm thank you for the concern" as always Bill spoke before he could think anything through. This woman spoke english so she could help him. But now he had declined her offer, and the had no reasons to stay.


"Ouch my arm" he said as he moved a bit. Of course it was a Lie, but he needed her help, and she was very very beautifull. "I think I'd like to accept that offer of help Mademoiselle" carefully and with her assistance he got out of the plane. "You lead the way" while they walked he måde sure to limp slightly and hold around his arm. This had to be a convincing Lie if she shouldn't go running over the fields