my hiatus from writing has gone on for too long. here's me gently dipping my toes back into it so if my writing is gross please blame it on that. also i can't remember if spartina had any backstory in the series? i don't think so but i don't feel like watching every episode she's in looking for it lmao,,
the ending is cheesy as heck but damn it let spartina be happy
..
You don't remember your early days before Darkhaven. From what you've gathered from your bits and pieces of memory and the odd passing mention of your arrival by rabbits now long gone, you can safely say that you were abandoned. It's not like you care; no, you don't care at all. You're tough and nasty and that's all you need to get along in life. Really, the terms abandoned, mother and father mean nothing to you.
One of the does who had cared for you when you were younger had given you the name Spartina. She said that spartina was a kind of grass, and while you had first expressed disgust at your name being a kind of grass, the doe was quick to soothe you. Spartina can grow anywhere, she had said, her voice hushed, as to not wake the others around. It can grow anywhere because it's tough. You're tough too, Spartina. Very tough.
The doe had died while you were still rather young. Not young enough that you still slept beside her, but young enough that you were still all mush inside - not as tough as the spartina grass just yet - and her death had been a hard blow for you to deal with.
They tried to stick you in with the Speaker of the Past, because there was no way they were going to train a doe that wasn't even really theirs to be one of their warriors. Most of the other does around you weren't warrior material, but you were angry and bitter at Darkhaven for everything that had happened to you (a rather unjustified anger, but it was there nonetheless). It soon became apparent that you were not meant to be with the Speaker of the Past, and so you were given what your explosive, frustrated soul wanted.
You don't really remember all the warriors who had taught you, and frankly you didn't really care to learn their names. There was one who you really admired; a doe with sharp eyes and an even sharper tongue. She had cuffed you over the head too many times to count, chastising you for growing arrogant, and shattering your ego as if it were nothing. Her name was Dogwood (that name would stay perpetually etched in your mind) and you spent countless days following her around, demanding she give you the time of day and teach you how to fight.
Dogwood had merely grinned, turning back to you with an uncharacteristically soft expression that made your stomach flip. "Dear Spartina, I'll teach you how to fight when you grow into those lanky legs."
Dogwood was the reason why you took your training seriously, staring down into Calcite's icy eyes, your paws jutting out and hitting him and hitting him until you had overpowered him, staring down at him victoriously. Calcite was the most help in your training. While you would never call him a friend (much too proud to have friends), you would admit that, at the very least, his company wasn't as bad as it could possibly be. When your nasty insults no longer hurt him – instead bringing a lopsided smile to his face – you would find yourself seeking out his company. He wasn't your friend, but when your training had been over for months and he slowly stopped speaking to you, you felt like your whole world shattered to pieces.
Your whole world shattered again, mere weeks later, when Dogwood was found dead. You never got that lesson on how to fight from her.
Her death only fuelled the tornado of rage that knotted up your insides. You were Spartina; a vicious nobody, looking out for no one but herself, and who wasn't sought out by anyone. It didn't seem so strange when other rabbits closed themselves off, their untrusting eyes scanning the crowds to weed out anyone who'd bring nothing but disaster to them. But you were Spartina; a vicious nobody that was wanted by no one but a doe you barely remembered who had passed years ago.
The revelation that, really, no one cared for your existence threatened to boil over any unchecked rage you had bubbling away inside you. Throwing yourself into fight after fight with rabbits much older, wiser and stronger than you, you found some kind of temporary solace. You had been raised with teeth and claws and you knew how to use them.
"Spartina," Some buck started one day, watching you force yourself to your feet after an unnecessarily cruel beating. "You must learn your place; there's no way you'll ever match our strength. Sure, maybe you win against some of the lesser rabbits, but you need to learn when enough's enough."
"What a waste of time," You had huffed, narrowing your eyes to stare at him. "Look around at Darkhaven. Learning when enough's enough will do nothing to help me."
A large arrogant smirk crossed your face. "You're worried about getting shown up by a doe."
The buck gave no mind to your words. "Watch that pretty mouth of yours, Spartina," He warned simply, and then left.
Years later you faced him again, this time holding his face into the dirt while you mocked him, laughing and sneering at his past words.
Fighting dirty was all you were good at. There was no room for any soft-hearted rabbits in Darkhaven, and you had learnt that years ago. So, when you were grown, as tough as the spartina grass you were named for, you had no idea how to handle goodness. Blackberry and Campion were so foreign to you, star-crossed lovers who risked their own safety for the others, and it made you sick.
Why couldn't you have that?
You knew why. You didn't deserve it.
That was why, after leaving Darkhaven, outed as a rat who had put the Watership Down rabbits in danger, you couldn't comprehend why Bigwig still wanted you. No one else had ever wanted you, not even your own mother or father. Why would someone as noble as him want you?
"Because everyone deserves to be cared about, even you."
His words filled you with a warm sense of security. You weren't sure how to approach it just yet, but you were content with letting it be for now.
Because, like that dumb grass you had been named for, you would let yourself grow right where you were.