Author's Note
The standard: I don't own anything connected to Redwall, or this story, except for Lily.
I shall repeat my warning: this story is VERY Martin/Rose, and is drowning in fluff.
No flames please. Constructive criticism is not only welcome, but solicited.
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Chapter 1: Midwinter's Day
He walked swiftly through Noonvale, paws crunching on the day-old snow. Tonight was the night, he knew. It had to be before he lost his nerve. He reached into the pocket of his tunic. Good, it was still there. He smiled, remembering the care he'd taken making it. It had taken an entire month. He hoped she'd be pleased.
The smile faded from his face as he approached Council Lodge for the midwinter feast. Now was the time. He had to ask her tonight, or else he knew that he never would. Tonight, the first night of the brightening of the year.
He entered Council Lodge shaking snow from his cloak, looking around nervously. She spotted him, waved, and came running over.
"Martin! There you are. Why were you late?" She took his cloak and hung it up, and then hugged him briefly and kissed his cheek. The kiss jolted him back to his senses.
"Hello, Rose," he mumbled into her shoulder. "I'm sorry I'm late. I had something to finish up."
Rose took his paw and led him up to the head table. "You're sitting with me tonight," she said. When he didn't reply, the mousemaid turned to glance at him. "What's wrong?"
Martin averted his eyes. "Nothing's wrong. Don't worry about me." She nodded, still suspicious but willing to let it go, and turned back around.
The food was, as always, fantastic. Martin forgot his nervousness and talked and laughed with his friends. It wasn't until at last the meal was over that he remembered. Drawing the ring out of his pocket, he stared at it. It was a simple band of sycamore wood (sycamore being the easiest wood to come by in Noonvale these days), set with a piece of rose quartz. The Warrior mouse drew a shaky breath, tuned to Rose, and took her paw.
"Rose," he whispered, "will you marry me?"