Shakespeare's 12th Night: Redwall Edition

The storm ravaged the seas and plunged the day to the deepest of nights. The lightning flashed its eerie glow; the thunder crashed its massive persecution. And in the raging waves of the boiling waters a ship continued to be bashed by the elements.

Only two creatures held on to the desk of this small craft. The ship would not last much longer, it was breaking apart, every wave threatened to capsize it. The two creatures held onto the mast, their paws clasped together, their fur soaked and their muscles sore from the constant onslaught of the storm.

Then they saw the wave, the massive, gargantuan wave of pure force and magnitude, towering and growing, higher and higher. They closed their eyes. They held each other's paws tighter. The wave fell.

All was sound, all was water, all was dark.

The ship sank, never to return to the surface.

The paws released, separated by the wills of the dark, cold, watery claws of the ocean.

O O O

Water dripped off the leaves of every tree in the forest as evidence of the saturation of the storm the night before. In the bright morning sun a mouse tramped across the wet grass towards the river mouth, the place where the grand River Moss flowed into the endless ocean. He emerged from the trees to the dazzling scene, of the glistening blue that sparkled into the horizon.

The mouse gave a small smile at the sight but it soon faded to be replaced by a sigh. He was attired in a colorful vest of bright fabric and a hat sat upon his head, something akin to a jester's hat of which flopped about when he moved. In his paws he held a rope, on the end of this rope a noose was tied.

The end was near for this mouse, or so he planned.

All he needed to do was get the rope on one of the branches of this gargled tree that stood on a ledge over the River Moss' mouth. For some reason he could not get the rope to go across the branch he aimed at. The end of the rope always slipped off into the river below. The noose around his neck, he tried another futile attempt, which ended as all the rest.

Even the tree was mocking him. His heart could take no more. He sank to the ground, sobbing, the rope clutched in his paws, tears dripping rapidly. "In sooth I can bear no more, my very paws quiver in sorrow and yet this rope and this tree will not let me fall away from this dreadful world. Maybe it is a joke on the joker, a smile for the fates that look down on me, a smile in sacrifice of a jester. My friend is gone and I want to..to..."

Something in the ocean distracted the mouse from his thoughts. A dark shape floated on the waves and at closer inspection it seemed to be piece of wood, and some creature lying on it. Over the sound of waves on the shore, the mouse heard coughing.

Forgetting his distress in not being able to kill himself, the mouse ran to the seashore to get a better look. The figure was now moving.

"Hold on!" he called to the mysterious beast and, using the rope that still had the noose tied into it, he threw it to the figure. The figure weakly grabbed the rope and the mouse pulled.

After a few minutes of pulling, the mouse discovered the creature to be a female squirrel, her clothes tattered and fur salty. She gasped, "Water..."

The mouse let the squirrelmaid put an arm around his neck as he helped her up. When they had made it to the River Moss and the squirrel had fully recovered by drinking the pure water, she turned to the mouse.

"What, pray tell, may I call my brave rescuer?"

The mouse blushed, "First and foremost, you may not call me brave, because the words 'fool' and 'folly' are what most call I."

The squirrel maid laughed, "I shall remember that, but what is your title dear sir?"

The mouse rose to his feet and gave an elegant bow, "My title would be Fezz good lady, a jester of the Abbey of Redwall."

The squirrelmaid wavered a moment at the sound of the name Redwall, "Alas, I have been washed far indeed, to be thrown near the forgiven shores of Mossflower. But to be fair to your knowledge kind jester, my name is Violet, of the far Southern shores, daughter of a famed merchant, who as recently went to dwell the Dark Forest. My brother and I were on a voyage and a storm hit. Please Fezz, have you seen any other creature washed up from the perilous seas?"

"I wish on your beautiful face I had, but I have not," Fezz said shaking his head. In the short time he had been with this squirrel, he had forgotten his former intentions of coming here and he only wanted to help this maid. Taking her paws, he said, "But do not despair, I'm sure if the seas allowed your life to escapes its fathomless depths that your brother is alive."

This did not stop the tears that begun to drip down her cheeks, which she wiped away with her bushy tail. "I wish you to be right, my friend."

"I do not deserve your friendship."

"You do noble mouse."

"Please, you threaten to slay me with your compliments. I am a pessimist with lack of pessimism, a fool of wiseness, a gamer of the serious, a horrible fibber of truths. My words the delicate frosting of the cake of seasons."

"Modesty you lack not, jovial Fezz."

Fezz bowed once again and Violet took the opportunity to shove him into the cool water of the River Moss. "I am drowning good lady, my paws are leaving life. Traitorous actions of the rescued my down fall..."

"Stand up."

The mouse stood up to find the water barely covering his footpaws. "Oh." He kicked the water at the squirrel who now rolled on the grassy shore laughing. "I see you find my peril amusing, I shall find offense in your..." His voice trailed off as he realized that the squirrel's laugher had turned to sobs. "Sweet maid, why do the drops of salt stain your perfect face? Is it a cause of any action of mine? Please, I implore you of the cause."

"My brother," she managed to respond once the sorrow subsided, "Sebastian, I know not his fate and I do not even know mine."

"Your fate could be happy ended Violet, you could come with me to the abbey of redstone, Redwall and live a life of happiness and bliss."

She turned her face away, to the water, that glistened in the beams of the sun, flowing on the River Moss in its leisurely pace. Violet thought it over and considered the prospect. Her heart led in another direction. "I do not belong in such a place, I am a spirit in mourning and broken on the rocks of conflict. I refuse to impose peaceful creatures to my past. Besides, my free spirit would distract and annoy, I cannot agree to become confined in its red walls..." Her voice choice not to complete the statement with the word: 'yet'.

Fezz didn't know what to make of her conclusion but was more hoping that she would not notice the noose at the end of the rope that he was trying to wrap into a neat loop. Though he would not say it, despite the fact that she thought he was the savior, Violet was the savior for him. Where would he have been? The gnarled tree that leaned over the outcrop above the River Moss' mouth could still be seen from where they stood. Fezz's mind vaguely saw an image of a familiar body swinging back and forth in the gentle sea breeze by now.

Nothing was worth that solution, even the loss of a friend.

Violet paw set on the mouse shoulder, "Fezz, you inquire of my tears, what of yours?"

Yes, Fezz thought, the future held much of pleasant surprise. Instead of telling his thoughts, the mouse made his own inquiry," Where do you plan to go if you do not set your sights on the 'restricting' walls of Redwall."

"Oh," the squirrel took the opportunity to pull at the fur of her salt encrusted tail nervously, "I would wonder...do you know of the squirrel warrior that is said to have settled in these parts? I...I..."

"The Duke," Fezz confirmed, "No."

"No? To what? I just wanted to know if such a noble figure would need a helping paw, a page, a courtier?"

"Exactly. No," Fezz said again, laughing quietly, "Violet, he is a proud squirrel and would never accept the help of a female. Duke is chauvinistic and possessive, though also a kind and caring soul. And..."

"Who said I would have to go to him as a female?"

Fezz practically choked on the breath that occupied his lungs. Taking off his floppy jester cap, he mused, "My cap must be on my ears too tight, because I think they forsook me to cause me to hear something wrong."

"They didn't."

The mouse stared at the squirrel long and hard, "But...but...you cannot be serious Violet..."

"Yes, I am, I shall start a life anew under the guide of this famed Duke."

"How?"

Violet smiled as she realized she didn't have a hint of a clue of what her paws were leading into. She kissed Fezz on the cheek. Fezz promptly blushed bright red and his mouth frothed gibberish.

Replacing Fezz's cap on his head, she whispered, "I need your help of course."

Note: It seems to me that at first glance that Violet's decision /is/ this vague and sudden. I am using the version that I saw on stage to create this tale. I am sure that this tale will take its own direction on various aspects since it is impossible to mirror Shakespeare. Anyway, I want to add in my own quirkiness to this odd story. And no, I'm not going to keep up this strange matter of dialogue in the entire tale, I think that both Violet and Fezz are delirious after their ordeals.