AUTHOR'S NOTE: Yeah, I know, I SHOULD be working on Forging of a Blade, but
I just HAD to write this. Although the plot for this story was based on a
really freaky dream, it had absolutely NOTHING to do with Redwall. But this
idea immediately clicked, and the inspiration would not leave me alone!
(And the flashback - obviously - is in third person pov, but the rest of
the fic is all from Predak's perspective.)
DISCLAIMER: Plot is mine, but everything else belongs to the British mastermind known as Brian Jacques.
~*~*~*~*~*~
Predak's POV. . .
~~~
I'm dieing. I know that. . .I've known since the day Ziral died that the rest of us were doomed as well. I suppose it's rather strange the way things turn out. All my life I've feared death, always trying to outwit and outfight it. . .but now here I am, lying on the cold ground with the life ebbing slowly out of me.
Could all this have turned out differently? If we had simply left once we got the tapestry, all this agony could have been avoided. But no, instead we had to deceive and spite each other. Gelltor was blinded by the prospect of war, Vannan suspected Mokkan's true motives but didn't see fit to inform the rest of us, and Mokkan, he was the worst of all. Down but not out, he managed to trick us into leaving so he could take the tapestry - and credit - for himself. So that left us with what? The prospect of returning to Castle Marl empty-handed? Unthinkable. We had no choice but to stay and fight the Redwallers. If only we had worked together, we might have gained so much!
But it seems that could never happen. In fact, I can only remember one time when we dispensed with bickering and treated each other as equals, and it was by no means a pleasant memory. . .
***FLASHBACK***
Predak stood off to the side cleaning her blood encrusted axe blade. In the center of the camp stood Mokkan, Gelltor, and Vannan. A large fire blazed and smoked despite the fact that it was only early afternoon. The three Marlfoxes stood beside the fire listening furiously as two water rat captains related a body count.
"It-it's at least one thousand. . ." stammered the first fearful soldier.
". . .p-p-probably two," finished the second.
Gelltor swore angrily. "You must have counted wrong. That can't possibly be right!"
"It's true," Ascrod confirmed as he and Ziral strode into the circle of warm firelight. Even in the summer, the Northlands still held an almost eerie chill about them. The Marlfoxes would never have normally come to such barren country that was populated mainly by the enormous evergreen forests like the one they gathered in now. However, when Queen Silth had heard of a rich fortress here, she had demanded that her brood go and conquer it. And the place truly had been wealthy with gold, jewels, and gems, but the battle against its ermine and wildcat protectors had carried a high price as well.
Suddenly, a water rat lieutenant stepped forward. "Ex-ex-excuse me, your excellencies," she whispered timidly.
"What is it?" Gelltor snapped.
She trembled a little before answering, "We've lost so many - brothers, sisters, and mates. Even you and your siblings, if you don' mind my sayin', have lost loyal soldiers. You also hold ties of blood in high regard. . .would you not allow us the same honor? Please grant us the privilege of buryin' our dead."
"That would be a foolish waste of valuable time!" Mokkan growled acidly.
Vanaan shrugged nonchalantly. "She does not ask for too much, brother, and after all, we DID win the war."
The other Marlfoxes - even the bloodthirsty Gelltor - nodded their agreement.
"Mokkan?" Predak asked, turning to her sibling.
For a moment Mokkan's face stayed contorted in a snarl at what he saw as a pointless endeavor, but then slowly it softened into his usual impassive mask. "Fine."
The next couple hours were spent digging graves and burying the dead. Even the Marlfoxes found it within themselves to assist the water rats in silent camaraderie. And to the surprise of everyone, when Gelltor tripped, it was Mokkan who helped him up.
***END FLASHBACK***
It's almost sad that the only time we ever truly got along was when we were faced with such a gruesome task. Then again, I guess Mokkan never really cared. . .he only cooperated. And yet, I'd like to think he held SOME compassion for his family. Maybe I'm right. . .or maybe he just had common sense. Maybe he just knew when to shut up and lay off.
I shift slightly trying to find a more comfortable sitting position. But ha! That is such an oxymoron, for how can one be comfortable when they are dieing? It's true, of course. Every time I move, a fresh twinge of pain runs through my chest. My fall has caused more damage than even I thought it would. Undeniably, something has burst inside of me. Already my vision darkens at the edges. It won't be long now. Still, I can't help but wonder, when all the Marlfox are dead, who will bury OUR bodies. . .?
~END~
~*~*~*~*~*~
AUTHOR'S NOTE: OMG, that was depressing. ;__; Please R&R. . .I hope it wasn't too OOC.
DISCLAIMER: Plot is mine, but everything else belongs to the British mastermind known as Brian Jacques.
~*~*~*~*~*~
Predak's POV. . .
~~~
I'm dieing. I know that. . .I've known since the day Ziral died that the rest of us were doomed as well. I suppose it's rather strange the way things turn out. All my life I've feared death, always trying to outwit and outfight it. . .but now here I am, lying on the cold ground with the life ebbing slowly out of me.
Could all this have turned out differently? If we had simply left once we got the tapestry, all this agony could have been avoided. But no, instead we had to deceive and spite each other. Gelltor was blinded by the prospect of war, Vannan suspected Mokkan's true motives but didn't see fit to inform the rest of us, and Mokkan, he was the worst of all. Down but not out, he managed to trick us into leaving so he could take the tapestry - and credit - for himself. So that left us with what? The prospect of returning to Castle Marl empty-handed? Unthinkable. We had no choice but to stay and fight the Redwallers. If only we had worked together, we might have gained so much!
But it seems that could never happen. In fact, I can only remember one time when we dispensed with bickering and treated each other as equals, and it was by no means a pleasant memory. . .
***FLASHBACK***
Predak stood off to the side cleaning her blood encrusted axe blade. In the center of the camp stood Mokkan, Gelltor, and Vannan. A large fire blazed and smoked despite the fact that it was only early afternoon. The three Marlfoxes stood beside the fire listening furiously as two water rat captains related a body count.
"It-it's at least one thousand. . ." stammered the first fearful soldier.
". . .p-p-probably two," finished the second.
Gelltor swore angrily. "You must have counted wrong. That can't possibly be right!"
"It's true," Ascrod confirmed as he and Ziral strode into the circle of warm firelight. Even in the summer, the Northlands still held an almost eerie chill about them. The Marlfoxes would never have normally come to such barren country that was populated mainly by the enormous evergreen forests like the one they gathered in now. However, when Queen Silth had heard of a rich fortress here, she had demanded that her brood go and conquer it. And the place truly had been wealthy with gold, jewels, and gems, but the battle against its ermine and wildcat protectors had carried a high price as well.
Suddenly, a water rat lieutenant stepped forward. "Ex-ex-excuse me, your excellencies," she whispered timidly.
"What is it?" Gelltor snapped.
She trembled a little before answering, "We've lost so many - brothers, sisters, and mates. Even you and your siblings, if you don' mind my sayin', have lost loyal soldiers. You also hold ties of blood in high regard. . .would you not allow us the same honor? Please grant us the privilege of buryin' our dead."
"That would be a foolish waste of valuable time!" Mokkan growled acidly.
Vanaan shrugged nonchalantly. "She does not ask for too much, brother, and after all, we DID win the war."
The other Marlfoxes - even the bloodthirsty Gelltor - nodded their agreement.
"Mokkan?" Predak asked, turning to her sibling.
For a moment Mokkan's face stayed contorted in a snarl at what he saw as a pointless endeavor, but then slowly it softened into his usual impassive mask. "Fine."
The next couple hours were spent digging graves and burying the dead. Even the Marlfoxes found it within themselves to assist the water rats in silent camaraderie. And to the surprise of everyone, when Gelltor tripped, it was Mokkan who helped him up.
***END FLASHBACK***
It's almost sad that the only time we ever truly got along was when we were faced with such a gruesome task. Then again, I guess Mokkan never really cared. . .he only cooperated. And yet, I'd like to think he held SOME compassion for his family. Maybe I'm right. . .or maybe he just had common sense. Maybe he just knew when to shut up and lay off.
I shift slightly trying to find a more comfortable sitting position. But ha! That is such an oxymoron, for how can one be comfortable when they are dieing? It's true, of course. Every time I move, a fresh twinge of pain runs through my chest. My fall has caused more damage than even I thought it would. Undeniably, something has burst inside of me. Already my vision darkens at the edges. It won't be long now. Still, I can't help but wonder, when all the Marlfox are dead, who will bury OUR bodies. . .?
~END~
~*~*~*~*~*~
AUTHOR'S NOTE: OMG, that was depressing. ;__; Please R&R. . .I hope it wasn't too OOC.