In the face of tragedy: a Redwall fic
As you probably know, I don't write much. But today, a heap of emotions drove me to write this little fic about how the Squirrel family reacts to tragedy and fear. Please don't draw any direct parallels to the world today - In Redwall, we can find some comfort in knowing who is good and who is bad, but the real world is much more complicated. Oh! And theredwallrecorder, you asked me to tag you in any future works, so here we go!
Jess Squirrel made her way across the forest canopy, taking care not to drop the haversack slung across her shoulder. She had spent the better part of the day on the eastern side of Mossflower Woods, gathering berries, tender roots, and other such foodstuff for storage. This was unusual. Normally, the Squirrel family would only amass this much food for the winter seasons, when food was hard to come by. That was before the Cluny’s hoard had decided to set up camp at Saint Ninian’s and lay siege to Redwall.
As she neared her family tree, Jess’s thoughts turned to Sam. She and her husband and worked so hard to give Sam a proper childhood – a time when he could let curiosity be his guide. Even if he did not speak in words, he would return home every day gesticulating about the adventures he’d been on; the creatures he’d seen, the friends he had made, the exciting worlds he had created in his mind among the gleaming leaves.
Would all that have to come to an end?
With a final, acrobatic leap, Jess landed on the branch that led to the entrance of her family’s drey. She took off the sack and stretched he paws up to the sky, arching her back. If only she didn’t have to travel to the far side of the forest to find a safe place to gather provisions. Ah well. Better to have an aching back than a barbed tail around her neck.
She heard the familiar padding of her husband’s paws as he passed through the opening of the drey. She turned to him and gave him her most convincing smile.
“Well, Mister Squirrel! Aren’t you a sight for sore eyes! How was your day, love?”
They embraced. Mr. Squirrel rubbed his cheek gently against hers. They stood like that for some time, before Jess slowly leaned back, and gazed into her husband’s eyes. There was something there.
“How was your day?”
After a moment of hesitation, Mr. Squirrel said, “Have I told you recently that you are the most selfless, kind, strong, and most beautiful squirrelmaid in all the world?”
“Yes you have, you silly old boar,” Jess replied, “But that’s not what you wanted to tell me.”
Mr. Squirrel’s jaw clenched. The thing that Jess had seen in his eyes rose even closer to the surface.
“Hum… I… uh…”
“Looks like you’re about to fall off this branch. Let’s get you inside.”
Moments later, they were both sitting down at the table. Mr. Squirrel looked down at his paws, varied emotions cascading across his face. Finally, he opened his mouth.
“You’re wrong, you know.”
“Pardon?”
“I did want to say that… I wanted you to know… what you mean to me…”
Jess saw his eyes glistening with the threat of tears, but she didn’t interject.
“…I… I just wanted to do something right today!”
As the tears began to stream down his cheeks, Jess took his paw in hers. Mr. Squirrel turned to her.
“You remember the Weasels – that family by Gooseberry Pond? I went to check on them this morning. I thought – I haven’t seen them in a while, that can’t be a good thing. Well, it wasn’t ‘cause when I got there… when I got there…” He closed his eyes and gritted his teeth. “The whole lot of them were gone!”
“No.”
“All of them! And there were their prints, scuffling left-right-left-right – chairs toppled right over, mornin’ breakfast all across the wall… I could almost imagine…” He took a deep breath. “They must have all been taken back to camp. To be whipped up to the very gates of Redwall to attack their own friends. And I couldn’t stop thinking of their little ‘un…” Jess squeezed his paw compassionately. “What’ll happen to him, eh? And he’s nearly Sam’s age. What if our Sam were to… to…”
They sat in silence, Mr. Squirrel holding his wife’s paw to his face. After a while, Jess ventured, “It wasn’t your fault.”
“No, but that could have been our Sam, right?… So… so I did something… something I shouldn’t’ve…” Mr. Squirrel slowly raised his eyes to meet Jess’s. “I told him he couldn’t go out on any more adventures.”
Dead silence. It took all of Jess’s willpower to bite back what she wanted to say. Instead, she said, “You were upset.”
Mr. Squirrel stood up wringing his paws, “That’s not an excuse, is it? I just didn’t want him to end up like the Weasels or the Voles or… erggh! But those are all excuses! I don’t have the right to tell him what to do! Not when we decided that –“
“James.”
She didn’t raise her voice. All the same, James Squirrel stopped his erratic pacing and turned to face his wife. Jess got up slowly and walked over to him. She put one paw on his neck, just below his ear, and gently brought his head forward until his forehead was resting against hers.
“It’s alright. Everything is going to be alright. And… I don’t blame you.”
James lifted his head to look at her.
“You…?”
“No, I don’t. I was actually thinking about it on the way home. If I had seen what you did… who knows? I might have behaved in the exact same way. But you know what I think? I think that no matter how bad this gets, no matter how scared we become… we can’t let it stop us – and him – from being happy. We can be safer. We can teach Sam how to spot danger from a long way off. But that doesn’t mean that we can’t be happy. It doesn’t mean that Sam can’t have his adventures. Maybe we’ll have to climb higher. Maybe we’ll need to find another home. But we’re not going to stop finding happiness. We aren’t going to stop learning. And we aren’t going to give up hope for a better tomorrow… Are you going to be okay?”
Mr. Squirrel sniffled. “Yes. Yes, I think so. Thank you. You always were the better talker. Thank you… I love you, Jess.”
“I love you too, you silly old boar… Sam left, didn’t he?”
“Yes.”
“And you tried finding him?”
“You know Sam – he doesn’t want to be found, he’s not going to be found. I tried making his favorite candied chestnuts… but… I burned them.”
“Ah - I thought I smelled something funny. But full points for aiming for his stomach, love. I tell you, that son of ours has the appetite of a full-grown hare.”
Suck suck.
Jess and her husband whirled around at the sound to find a diminutive young squirrel sucking his thumb at the entrance of the drey, a curious smile plastered over his little face.
“Sam!”
“How… how much did you hear?”
Silent Sam spread his paws wide, as if to say, “Everything!”
That night, as Sam recounted his adventures and scoffed every last burned nut, the sound of their laugher drifted up above the trees to meet the chimes of the Joseph Bell. The pleasant sounds drifted through the air and into the dreams of a young weasel held captive at St. Ninian’s. He smiled as an armor-clad mouse whispered to him, “Don’t give up hope on a better tomorrow. You will be happy again. I promise.”
