autobotscoutriella (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
autobotscoutriella) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
fandomweekly2020-11-09 08:58 pm
autobotscoutriella) wrote in fandomweekly2020-11-09 08:58 pm
Entry tags:
[#072] Roses (Redwall)
Theme Prompt: 072 - Unspoken Things
Title: Roses
Fandom: Redwall (post-Mossflower)
Rating/Warnings: G / None
Bonus: No
Word Count: 722
Summary: As Redwall Abbey takes shape, Martin feels that something is missing.
Summer was drawing to a close, and the Abbey of Redwall had begun to look less like an eternal construction project and more like a proper building at last. Abbess Germaine was confident that the central building itself would be completed enough to live in before winter, even if a few of the interior rooms still needed work. Only a few days before, the last of the great stained-glass windows had been set into the walls of what would be the Great Hall, and now the afternoon sun shimmering through the windows turned the floor of the Abbey into a swirling riot of colors.
Martin made his way around the outer edge of the grounds, following the lines that had been marked out for the outer wall. Columbine waved to him from where she was gathering herbs in the garden, Ferdy and Coggs squeaked "Hello Martin!" as they dashed past waving sticks at imaginary enemies, and a splash from the direction of the pond told him that a few of the otters had decided to go for a mid-afternoon swim. It was a perfect late-summer afternoon in a Mossflower at peace, and Martin was content.
But something was missing, as it had been ever since he had left the Northlands behind for good.
If his friends had noticed that he sometimes found himself staring wistfully out over the Abbey, they had been kind enough not to point it out, though he had managed to keep it to quiet moments when he was alone. His friends would understand, of course, but there were some things that were too precious to tell even Gonff or Dinny. Those memories had locked themselves in his heart long ago, and there they would stay.
It was too fine a day to wallow in melancholy. Martin tried to shake off the memories, returning his focus to the bustling Abbey around him as he continued his walk. Dinny and a small group of young moles worked busily in the orchard, checking the supports on some of the smaller transplanted trees and making sure they had taken root well enough to survive the coming winter. Martin waved to them, but did not stop to talk; they were busy enough without him interrupting them. In the shade of one of the biggest apple trees, Abbess Germaine sat with Ben and Goody Stickle with a sheet of paper rolled out in front of them, going over the plans for the new kitchens.
"Ah, Martin!" The Abbess waved him over with a friendly smile. "Just the mouse I wanted to see. Ben and Goody and I have finally settled on a layout, but we'll need a crew to take charge of constructing the ovens and getting them safely in place. Could you coordinate that once we've finished the exterior walls?"
"Of course, Abbess, I'd be happy to. Timballisto is a construction genius - I'll bring him in and we'll see what can be done." Martin paused, and something over by the Abbey building's south wall caught his eye. A splash of bright color had appeared, where he was sure there had only been soft green bushes the day before. "Will you excuse me for a moment? I have something I need to check on."
"Of course, dear. This isn't urgent." Abbess Germaine was already bending over the plans again, adjusting her small crystal glasses, as Martin made his way to the building wall to see what the color might indicate.
It was a rose.
It must have been one of the very last of the season - Martin didn't know much about flowers, at least not when compared to Columbine and Gonff's knowledge of Mossflower's plants, but he knew that it was late in the seasaon for roses to appear for the first time. This one was a deep, rich red, small but perfectly shaped and beautifully colored.
Martin brushed his fingers across the soft petals, and a sudden lump appeared in his throat. He swallowed, and then swallowed again.
Perhaps nothing was missing from Redwall, after all.
In the seasons to come, Martin would never speak to anyone of what the late roses meant to him, or why sometimes he lingered beside the rapidly growing rosebush late in the year when no one else was looking. He knew, and that was enough.
Title: Roses
Fandom: Redwall (post-Mossflower)
Rating/Warnings: G / None
Bonus: No
Word Count: 722
Summary: As Redwall Abbey takes shape, Martin feels that something is missing.
Summer was drawing to a close, and the Abbey of Redwall had begun to look less like an eternal construction project and more like a proper building at last. Abbess Germaine was confident that the central building itself would be completed enough to live in before winter, even if a few of the interior rooms still needed work. Only a few days before, the last of the great stained-glass windows had been set into the walls of what would be the Great Hall, and now the afternoon sun shimmering through the windows turned the floor of the Abbey into a swirling riot of colors.
Martin made his way around the outer edge of the grounds, following the lines that had been marked out for the outer wall. Columbine waved to him from where she was gathering herbs in the garden, Ferdy and Coggs squeaked "Hello Martin!" as they dashed past waving sticks at imaginary enemies, and a splash from the direction of the pond told him that a few of the otters had decided to go for a mid-afternoon swim. It was a perfect late-summer afternoon in a Mossflower at peace, and Martin was content.
But something was missing, as it had been ever since he had left the Northlands behind for good.
If his friends had noticed that he sometimes found himself staring wistfully out over the Abbey, they had been kind enough not to point it out, though he had managed to keep it to quiet moments when he was alone. His friends would understand, of course, but there were some things that were too precious to tell even Gonff or Dinny. Those memories had locked themselves in his heart long ago, and there they would stay.
It was too fine a day to wallow in melancholy. Martin tried to shake off the memories, returning his focus to the bustling Abbey around him as he continued his walk. Dinny and a small group of young moles worked busily in the orchard, checking the supports on some of the smaller transplanted trees and making sure they had taken root well enough to survive the coming winter. Martin waved to them, but did not stop to talk; they were busy enough without him interrupting them. In the shade of one of the biggest apple trees, Abbess Germaine sat with Ben and Goody Stickle with a sheet of paper rolled out in front of them, going over the plans for the new kitchens.
"Ah, Martin!" The Abbess waved him over with a friendly smile. "Just the mouse I wanted to see. Ben and Goody and I have finally settled on a layout, but we'll need a crew to take charge of constructing the ovens and getting them safely in place. Could you coordinate that once we've finished the exterior walls?"
"Of course, Abbess, I'd be happy to. Timballisto is a construction genius - I'll bring him in and we'll see what can be done." Martin paused, and something over by the Abbey building's south wall caught his eye. A splash of bright color had appeared, where he was sure there had only been soft green bushes the day before. "Will you excuse me for a moment? I have something I need to check on."
"Of course, dear. This isn't urgent." Abbess Germaine was already bending over the plans again, adjusting her small crystal glasses, as Martin made his way to the building wall to see what the color might indicate.
It was a rose.
It must have been one of the very last of the season - Martin didn't know much about flowers, at least not when compared to Columbine and Gonff's knowledge of Mossflower's plants, but he knew that it was late in the seasaon for roses to appear for the first time. This one was a deep, rich red, small but perfectly shaped and beautifully colored.
Martin brushed his fingers across the soft petals, and a sudden lump appeared in his throat. He swallowed, and then swallowed again.
Perhaps nothing was missing from Redwall, after all.
In the seasons to come, Martin would never speak to anyone of what the late roses meant to him, or why sometimes he lingered beside the rapidly growing rosebush late in the year when no one else was looking. He knew, and that was enough.