A/N
Yes, yes, I know it isn't summer any more. I did honestly intend to write this during the summer, but y'know how it is. Anyway, here is the last of the Cheek Tales. Although, much like The Doctor rule one is The Killy always lies. I don't know if I'll write more, it might happen, it might not. Don't get your hopes up.
It was the height of the summer season; the air was filed with the fragrance of a woodland bursting with life. The ancient stones of Redwall Abbey appeared a dusty red against the endless blue sky. Grasshoppers could be heard humming lazily from the sun's warmth and from the trees birds sang contently. It was on such a glorious afternoon that the Abbey was paid a visit.
Matthias the Warrior only by chance happened to be in his gatehouse home when the knock at the gates came. On such a day as this, most abbey beasts were outside enjoying the weather. Even John Churchmouse completed his recording duties under the shade of the orchards, rather than his dusty study. Hearing the knocking the mouse hastened to answer. Unbolting the gate he pulled it inward smiling as the visitors came to light. Slightly older, and markedly tubbier stood none other than Cheek Stag Otter. With the jovial otter was the Skipper's daughter Jocelyn, she appeared much the same, although Matthias had never gotten to know her well. The pair had set out two seasons back determined to see more of the world. As a young beast Cheek had been quite a nuisance, but he was much loved by the entire Abbey.
Matthias tried to hide his joy, and surprise at seeing the otter return. He welcomed them in saying, "Got hungry eh Cheek?"
The jovial otter capped a tattooed paw about the warrior mouse. "Aye, an' thirsty too. Tell those cellar 'ogs and kitchen mice t'bring up the best scoff and October ale. "
Jocelyn slipped in past the two males her shell ornaments clattering as was the tell tale sign of her presence. Matthias couldn't help but notice she appeared rounder about the mid section, and not likely from many a good supper. Her bright skirts ruffled suddenly, and from the layers of multi-coloured fabrics a young kit otter appeared. He was only a little dibbun barely walking on his own. His big brown eyes and chubby features could mean but one thing, he had to be Cheek's. Matthias was both surprised and overjoyed.
"Great seasons, will you look at this little fellow."
The little otter clung to his mother's skirts, nervously watching the mouse before him. Cheek snatched the tiny beast up, balancing him upon one hip. "This here is Streambuck, but most 'ave just taken t'calling him Bucko."
Jocelyn shook her head. "Bucko indeed. Should 'ave 'eard the fights we had about naming the little kit. Oh Cheek wanted Buck this and Bob that, but I kept telling 'im I wasn't having any son of mine saddled with a hare name. "
Cheek shrugged still carrying his young son, a smile as bright as the sunshine upon his face. Matthias led the small otter family towards the main Abbey building, knowing many creatures would be anxious to see them. At first many didn't recognize Cheek. Sam squirrel was instructing his young pupils in how to properly use a quarter staff. He paused from watching the young woodlanders, leaning upon his own staff, and openly stared at the otter. It took him several moments before it dawned on him who this beast had to be.
"Cheek!" he called out, dropping the staff and dashing over to greet his friend.
Carefully setting Streambuck down the otter and squirrel clapped paws about one another, shoving and play wrestling as they had as young beasts.
"Look at you y'old bush tail. Still playing with sticks I see."
"And you, rounder than one of Jube's barrels and as cheeky as ever. Finally back at Redwall. Where did you end up in your travels?" The squirrel asked.
"Ah, those are tales better saved for around a fire in the dead of winter. But for now there is somebeast I have to see. Besides, I think you ought t'get back to your students before someone looses an eye." Chucking he watched as the young woodlanders thwacked at one another with their quarterstaffs.
Rushing back to prevent any injury Sam waved to his friend. "Later then, I do want to hear all about it."
Doing their best to slip away from the many welcoming creatures, Cheek and Jocelyn tried to find the one creature Cheek was most anxious to see. Sister May called out from the infirmary window.
"Hello there." She shouted waving a spotted handkerchief to get their attention. "He's out in the orchard, under the damson trees. "
Thanking the mouse sister they struck out as instructed. The shade of the damson trees was a peaceful shady spot, quiet and tranquil. The fragrant scent of the purple fruits met in harmony with the flowers planted atop a small mound of earth. It was here Basil Stag Hare, the once brave yet eccentric foot fighter rested.
Basil had lived many long seasons, perhaps the only beast to exceed him in age was Constance but badgers did have such vast lifespan. He took his midafternoon rest along the trees base, resting beside the flower garden. A hardwood cane lay at his side, for the past number of seasons he relied on the waking aid. Of course, the hare wouldn't to needing a cane due to age. No, he insisted most adamantly that it was an honourable war wound acting up again. The same excuse was used when ever his back ached, or his hearing faltered, or even when his memory began to slip. Sister May the infirmary keeper was only too happy to indulge the hare. The kindly mouse played along catching every smile and wink the hare passed to her. It had grown to be a game between the two, like dibbuns they pretended as though Basil wasn't nearing the end of his seasons.
Cheek felt strange seeing his adoptive father like this. He had never known Basil as a young beast, he was already well on in seasons upon their meeting. Even after they left the cottage home to move to Redwall, Cheek never dreamed of being without the hare. Now after being away two whole seasons, and the many changes that had entered his life in that span of time, he began to realize that his beloved Basil would not be there forever.
Unsure if he should wake the elderly hare, Cheek paced forward. To his surprise Basil stirred and reached for his cane. Springing into wakefulness he swung the stick out nearly smacking Cheek on the hindpaw.
"Have at ye' y'rotten young rascals. If I told y'once I've told y'bounders a thousand binking times…" He blinked several times his voice trailing off as he spied the beast before him. "My, my, got hungry did we laddie buck? Knew you would be bound back this way once the scoff ran out. Didn't think it would take y'so long. Humph, hardly a letter or blinking message since your cheeky hide lollopped out these gates. Tummscoff writes, true as the old war wound in me knee acts up in damp weather I'm bound t'get at least one note a season from the chap. Good sort Tummscoff, always shows proper respects and appreciation. Y'could learn a lot from that fellow." Basil spoke gruffly wagging a paw at his once young charge.
Cheek stood paws clasped behind his back as Basil lectured him. He knew the hare wasn't really cross. On the contrary, he was quite pleased to see the otter again. When Basil had finished, he helped him to his paws. Groaning somewhat Basil slowly waked alongside his son, leaning heavily on the cane.
"Great seasons o'salt, are those tattoos I see." He shook his gray head. "Good thing y'came back when y'did, much longer and you're liable to become a bally pirate." He pulled out a monocle from his breast pocket and peered closely at the blue-green markings along Cheek's forepaws. He narrowed his eyes at Jocelyn. "I'll take this t'be your doing marm." As a strict military beast, Basil didn't really approve of tattoos and pierced ears.
Cheek held out his paws and allowed Basil to fully inspect the intricate designs he obtained through his travels. Many river and sea otters carried tattoos these marked them as members of particular tribes, or commemorated deeds or events in their lives. Cheek decided to embrace this aspect of his culture and chose his designs carefully. Along with the intricate markings that showed he was a Mossflower otter, he designed two very special tattoos. The first an otter's sling to remind him of his childhood following the Redwall warriors to free the child slaves from Slagar. The second was a winding design of knots and bends made to appear as otter and hare. Basil smiled slightly catching sight of this, but made no remark to indicate his approval.
"Ole Tum may write Basil. But I bring something better." Cheek winked broadly. Guiding his aged father towards a bench he made sure Basil sat down, and then presented him with his grandson. As Cheek had hoped, Basil was overjoyed.
Little Streambuck didn't really know what to make of the old hare. He was still very nervous around strange beasts, but the hare seemed friendly enough to see him. Clinging to his father, he was urged over to the hare. Basil sat with outstretched paws, his eyes misting with absolute joy.
"Well now, there's a plump and happy looking chap. Come over to y'grandpa let me get a good look at ye."
Slowly the young beast relinquished his grip on his father and went to the hare. Up in Basil's arms he peered at the elder with those big brown eyes. Streambuck had never seen a hare before, and what fully beasts they were to the young otter. His tiny webbed paws reached out and grabbed Basil's long ears, giggling in fits when the hare tried to wriggle them out of the toddler's grip. Finally freeing his ears he remarked. "Easy to tell whose young'un he is. Imagine that, Cheek Stag Otter, grown up, married and with a family of his own. I tell you m'boy I didn't think I'd ever see the day."
Jocelyn patted her belly smiling. "An' there's more where that once came from." To this news Basil was all the more over joyed. Cheek however shifted nervously on his paws.
"Er… not exactly married." He spoke from the side of his mouth, expecting to get an earful from his father.
Instead Basil waved a paw, to show it didn't bother him. "Oh, neither here nor there dontcha know. I c'n tell you both seem most happy. Stay t'gether long enough its all the same bally thing anyway." He winked and contently bounced his tiny grandson upon his knee.