Note: I don't own any of these fantastic characters, sorry!(I wish I did!) Also, I got so tired of people saying the same thing about Cornflower and me, "Who? Oh, the boring girl with absolutely no life and who never does anything! Yeah, she's so weird." So, here I am, to prove you all wrong! Mwahahahahahahahahahahaha! Also, this is my first foray into Redwall fics and was written a long time ago. I might have been 10... PLEASE REVIEW! :D
What Brian Jacques Didn't Tell You (This is in ABSOLUTELY NO way making fun of the wonderful, praised, honored author Brian Jacques, I wish to merely write my thoughts in this very extremely short (which is a relative term) passage):
Before Redwall:
Well, I just thought I'd start with the basics. My name is Cornflower Elizabeth Fieldmouse. Well, at the time that I'll start from, I'm only about, oh let's see… still a baby, just a day old? Well, that's when I first "met" Matthias according to, oh, let's see… everyone older than me? Oh, I saw him grow each time my family visited Redwall Abbey, but I never took too much of an interest. We'd play around, not much more though. He was just always that guy with clothes too big for him that tripped over a lot. Kind of reminded me of myself. Clumsy me.
Skip forward to when Cornflower turned thirteen. Matthias was now one of the only children her age who would actually greet her with a smile, one of the only people who even bothered at all. Most people had stopped by the time she was five because she usually either had her nose in a book, tripped and fell when they greeted her, or her head was stuck in the clouds, dreaming up another story. Cornflower really didn't know him that well, but she appreciated his kindness for not treating her like an outsider, as most people did. Maybe it was because, in his own way, he was an outsider too. Maybe it was because he always felt the same way she did, as if the life she led was not exactly the one she wanted to follow… But among all those encounters, there is one in particular, which was made special because of three things: 1: It was her birthday, 2: He actually remembered it, and 3: It was marked that year as the first day of spring.
Cornflower was sitting down in the large passageway, the one with the tapestry of Martin the Warrior in it. She had always felt that the hall was calming, soothing… the perfect place to write a story! True, a pastime most girls her age would never dream of doing, especially in the dead of night… But it just felt… right. So there she was, writing a narrative about a young, misunderstood mouse (based on herself) who was always being underestimated by everyone around her. Almost everyone. There was only one young mouse in particular whom she truly trusted and thought he understood her. He was brave and loyal. Handsome and sweet. He… didn't have a name yet. He was to be known as "The Warrior Mouse", just as Cornflower's own hero then did not have a name. Well, maybe he did, she just hadn't figured it out yet. Back to reality, Cornflower was writing. It must've been around midnight when she heard footsteps echoing through the vast passage. From the light of her candle, Cornflower saw a shadow, and it looked big. At first she feared it was her father, but as the figure drew closer she realized that it was Matthias.
"Hello Cornflower. Um, what are you doing up so late?" he asked.
Cornflower blushed at being caught. "I was… writing."
"Oh. What a coincidence, I was just thinking of how nice it would be to read something to help me sleep," Matthias admitted with a shy smile.
She had a feeling he was just kidding her and was thinking of what to say next when he grabbed for her story. "Hey! Give that back!"
"I'm just reading!"
"GIVE IT BACK!"
"Sh! Do you want the whole Abbey to hear you?"
Cornflower quickly quieted herself down and grabbed her story, her dream back.
"Why don't you want me to read it?"
She turned scarlet. "Um, well, it's just girl stuff, you know? You'd be bored by it."
"Girl stuff, huh? I've always wanted to read something of the sort, just to see how it processes in your minds. Plus I don't think you'd ever write just girl stuff. You're not like all of the other girls who cover up the real them with excessive, cheap, gaudy make up that makes them look overdone and fake and simpers that are totally phony and unattractive and yet 99% of the all the guys fall for them anyway because they aren't wise enough to see it's not the real them that they're seeing."
Cornflower smiled at that statement, they spoke her exact feelings about a lot of the girls she knew. They weren't bad people at all by any means; they just tried a little too hard she thought. She voiced this thought too, resulting in a smile from Matthias. Cornflower thought about it. She finally concluded that she could trust Matthias, so she reluctantly handed him the thread. He read through it. As a smile spread across his face, Cornflower realized that he was on the page where she had described her hero. She got ready for total rejectment by everyone, including Matthias.
After reading it, Matthias handed it back to her. "Wow. That's good."
"Excuse me?" she inquired.
"You're one good writer," Matthias complimented again.
Cornflower looked the other way, why couldn't she seem to face him? Then she realized, tears were coming down her face, she didn't want him to see them.
"Are, are you crying?" Matthias asked in wonderment. "I'm sorry."
"Why are you apologizing?"
"Because I've upset you. I simply can't stand it when I upset people, you should've seen me yesterday when I tripped on the Abbot's habit, and I was begging him for mercy all day, even going to confession five times for it!"
At this, Cornflower smiled. Matthias was sweet to everyone and hated to see anyone feel out.
"Why were you crying?"
"Well… it's nothing."
"What's wrong?"
"Nothing!"
Matthias just gave her a stare. But it wasn't like the stares she got when she tripped or spilled something for the millionth time, not the burning stares of scorn. This stare, it burned in a different way. It burned with a sincerity, a friendship that Cornflower had never felt, but always dreamt of. A true, loyal friendship. It was too much for her, it all came out.
"I don't know why everyone feels so, so wrong around me! Just because I'm not exactly the same it doesn't mean that I'm not a mouse too! I still have feelings. People seem to neglect it. People pass me and act as if I'm a ghost, something they can go through without hurting it. I'm always reading because it helps me escape from this world. My writing helps me make my world seem better. And, well, I have absolutely no control over the tripping thing though…"
Matthias' eyes radiated sympathy. "Don't worry. At least you're not alone on one account."
"And which may that be?"
"Falling all the time." The two of them burst out in a fit of laughter, which took a while to calm down.
"May I now escort this lady to her room?" Matthias offered with mock formality.
"You may," Cornflower replied, copying his cocky manner. She started to gather up her stuff when Matthias reached down first to get it.
"Ladies must not clean up their messes," Matthias explained to Cornflower, still with his mocking tone.
"Then why is it that women always seem to clean up the houses?" At this they laughed again as they ascended the stairs to Cornflower's spot to sleep. Matthias helped Cornflower put her writing things into her bag.
"Thank you so much Matthias… for everything," Cornflower said.
"Oh, by the way, happy birthday," Matthias exclaimed.
"How did you know it was my birthday?" Cornflower wondered out loud.
"Easy," Matthias teased, "You looked a day older."
"Well so do you. I have a good memory too and enough sense to know that we share birthdays."
Matthias chuckled softly. "Well, here's your gift, I hope you'll enjoy it," he said, motioning for her to open it. Cornflower undid the wrapping slowly and carefully. Inside the package was just the right thing for her, a book, filled with blank pages.
"For your writing," Matthias explained shyly. "Good ni-"
"Wait," Cornflower interrupted. "I meant to give you this tomorrow, before I left. But now would be a perfect opportunity. I hope you take pleasure in it. But don't open it just yet, wait until you get back into you room, not in the hall, but in your bed, in your room, promise?"
"I promise," Matthias pledged.
"Good night."
"Good night."