Love Alone is Worth the Fight
A/N: Actuality Violence: Violence that can actually occur or has occurred. (Example: Schindler's List is rated R for language, some sexuality, and actuality violence. The Holocaust actually happened and this film portrays events/ means of torture that actually happened)
This is the reason for the M rating.
Sometimes the heart sees what is invisible to the eye.
- H. Jackson Brown, Jr.
Prologue: Reepicheep's Father
"A boy needs his father."
"Yes, a father who's there for him, you're practically a ghost."
Reepicheep's mother and father had been going on like this for three months. At the moment, they were in their kitchen, which was simple and typical of the area. Large with handcrafted touches, a large sink, a large table with about twelve chairs to accommodate frequently visiting family and friends as well as two children. At one end was a threshold to the living room, on the other were three doors: the left was Charvep's room, the right was Reepicheep's, the middle was the parents.
A small chandelier of candles hung over the table, the flames flickered a bit.
"I promise everything will straighten out when this war is over." The father said, who was sitting in one of the outside chairs of the table towards the sink.
"That's the problem, when will this war be over?" His wife, who was standing near the sink finishing up dishes, looked at him with a skeptical eye and disapproving disposition.
The husband gave no answer, he didn't want to. War was his survival, the mother knew this.
"You live in war Chevrep," she said putting the dish on the counter and turning towards him, "it's your profession. It's what you've always done and continue to do, but you have to make a choice- your family or your brothers."
"You cannot ask me to make that." Chevrep said.
"Why can't I!" She screamed and advanced towards him, "Why can't I ask you to be a father!"
"Because I wasn't meant to be one!" Chevrep replied with equal intensity and force as he stood up.
His wife struck him on the cheek, the burning sensation went through Chevrep's entire face. He looked back at her as if he were about to give an execution sentence. The senior mouse then walked into the living room which was next door and pulled his blade which was currently resting on a rack that was mounted on the wall.
Saying nothing, Chevrep entered the kitchen, blade extended, and advanced toward his wife.
"What are you doing?" She asked.
"You dare strike an officer of the realm?" Chevrep asked. "You do realize that it is a form a treason."
"Chevrep please, you're being-"
"Ridiculous?" He said in a mocking way, the mouse smile was lupine as he pointed the tip of his blade to her sternohyoid. The sternohyoid is the thin muscle at the neck that causes speech, but Chevrep wasn't aiming for that. Instead, his target was something for more vital, the sternothyroid muscle, which depresses the larynx and aides in the eating process.
"Do you wish to starve?" He asked.
"You're mad!" She cried.
"You say I'm never there, that I'm a disgrace, that I'm never going to be anything but a warhorse?"
"Because you are! We can work on those things though." She said trying to give the best smile she could. "Hope is not all lost."
Chevrep did not cease his urge, he moved his sword back for his honor and looked at his wife for his sanity. His head was fitting his heart and he didn't realize this. The mother closed her eyes, for she knew that she couldn't say anything to stop him. Chevrep's sword advanced upon her like a wolf does prey, quickly, and without remorse.
When all was quiet again, the warrior stood over the trophy and saw the reason why he fell in love. Her eyes were emeralds, and reminded him daily of his commitments. To be a husband, a friend, a loyal solider, and the one he denounced, a parent.
Tilden and Reepicheep opened their doors due to the commotion. Tilden was older by a year but Reepicheep was precocious. As soon as the latter mouse saw a hint of despair he turned away and went back to his dreams. Tilden stayed and looked at his father.
"Did you see anything?" Chevrep asked.
Tilden shook his head.
"Good boy," the father said, "take care of him."
"Are you leaving again?"
Chevrep nodded, "I don't know how long this time or if I'll be back at all. This may be the last time we see each other."
Tilden walked over to his father and embraced him, Chevrep slowly embraced him back, he wasn't used to acts of love.
"I love you father." Tilden said.
Chevrep replied with the usual response: "I love you too"
After this, the senior mouse mustered all the courage, pride, and dignity he had and exited. Not a word was spoken. Tilden watched his father open the door. A blue light filled the floor. Chevrep walked through the threshold of his door and was gone.
"Be safe." Tilden said to only himself as he made to a storage closet to grab a shovel.
He returned in an hour, the evidence removed, the eulogy said, and the tears fallen. Tilden returned to bed at five in the morning. He would rise in three hours, the same time his father died...
Presumably.