A/N Hello and welcome! Yes, I am writing a Redwall fic after so long? Did you miss me?
:crickets:
Wonderful. Let's get on with the story!
In Taggerung, page 82 or something near it, they mentioned the 'citadel of dreams'. What lies in Martin's dreams? Dare you open the gates to Dreamland?
Let us commence!
Disclaimer::is backed in corner by lawyers bearing pens and contracts: NOOOO! I'm not Brian Jacques! I admit it! It hurts, but I must!
(Begin Citadel of Dreams)
A light breeze raced through the trees, and the mouse standing beneath them could almost see the moonlight smiling down upon him. Was night going to cast her magic upon him tonight? Would he dream?
The grass below him called, and as the weary warrior sunk down into the wavy emerald blades. Ah, Redwall. What a beautiful place.
But he was sure the Citadel of Dreams would be better tonight.
Closing his battle-hardened eyes, he slipped into a world where the impossible happens every night, and enemies and beloveds come back to life…
The Citadel of Dreams.
It was a remarkable dream tonight- but what was to happen, mused Martin. What dream is this, what would it be of?
The answer came almost instantly.
A huge, lithe form slammed into him, and Martin rolled over, clawing at the air, sword not in the Citadel.
Fangs bared in his face, and hot, reeking breath brushed his face. "Tsarmina!" growled Martin, on his back, the strong wildcat, back in full strength, clawing at him.
"Mouse!" she crowed. "How I will defeat you-"
Something stirred- and a heavy weight fell by his side. Grasping around, Martin clasped the hilt and-
Tsarmina disappeared, leaving only the reeling stars above Martin to stab at.
Something else sounded behind Martin. Whipping around, blade at ready, he leapt out of the grass-
It had changed to sand- what was this?
"Martin!" roared a huge badger, silvery-white with age. Shining armor coated his frame, and only his head, paws, and footpaws showed. A huge broadsword was clasped in his paws. "Martin!"
"Boar!" said Martin, stunned. Hot sand burned under his paws, and the stars were instantly replaced with the sun ablaze. He looked around, and the scene changed again. Why did these memories from the past flicker and fade so quickly? Normally-
Martin laughed to himself. Normal did not exist in dreams, and the unusual reigned.
The sand shifted- it became a boat, rocking and swaying with the salty breezes the blew past him. Metal clinked- manacles shook-
Manacles?
Martin looked down at his attire, and noticed that he was garbed in tattered searat rags, and long necklaces and gaudy bracelets. No! He was no searat- what dream was this? He had become his enemy? Furious, he began ripping the rags off-
And a long, black whip snaked down onto him and curled about his paws.
"Die, vermin!" crowed a strong, female voice. Martin looked up in horror- and saw a burly, ebon squirrel wielding a whip advancing on him.
But suddenly, she stopped, a confused expression plastered on her face. "Luke?" she gasped, and faded, blackness evaporating like an evanescent murmur.
"Ranguvar?" whispered Martin. The tale he had heard of this squirrel were as honor-filled as his father's were. He instantly recognized the squirrel, though he had never set his eyes on her.
The ship pitched towards two huge pinnacles of rock, and Martin threw up his paws to his face, fearing for the worst-
And was met by laughter, calls, and the cries of happy beasts. Raising his head, he saw that the ship had left, and he was in a long dining hall, with a natural ceiling that was never carved…
Brockhall!
A paw, light and small, tapped his shoulder. "Matey, are you eating that blackberry crumble on your plate? 'Cause it won't be there in a minute!"
"Gnoff!" exclaimed the mouse warrior. "What-" He had only seen dead beasts so far- did this mean that…
The thief smiled, and like Ranguvar, vanished, his air of humor still lingering like memory.
For it was a memory.
Martin twisted around in his wooden chair, desperately trying to see something else, other beasts who had been talking, but no body was there. It was simply noise, a long table, and empty chairs.
Pondering this, Martin stood up, chair moving smoothly away from him. No noise was made from the hickory woodwork, and Martin only knew that the dream commanded the noise.
"Hello?" called Martin, voice ringing in the noisy but empty hall. "Anybeast?"
"Now, Martin… you must have some of this honeyed cider… Goody says it's one of her best barrels!"
"Try some of these candied chestnuts… good thing Chibb isn't here, eh, Martin?"
"Martin!"
"Martin!"
"Martin!"
The mouse warrior swerved around with every noise but met nothing. Suddenly, he felt a feather-light touch on his back.
"Why are you still here?" asked a sweet voice. "My son…"
Martin jolted, and turned around quickly. "Sayna?" whispered Martin, but no one was there. "Mother…"
Brockhall vanished- it was replaced by a forest, with birds warbling and chatting creatures.
Creatures that he could see!
Martin stepped back to get a better view. Otters, squirrels, moles, and mice, so many mice!
"Martin, come… you said you would help us with the sycamore!"
Martin twisted around, and saw a motherly mouse standing there. "Arrah?" he whispered, hardly daring to believe it. If she was here, then so must…
Another mouse, authority hanging about him like a warm air, stepped out from behind the female mouse. "Martin?"
"Sir…" said Martin, looking at the husband of Arrah. "Where is…"
"Right here, my love."
Martin almost cried out in shock, and whipped around…
And for a sweet, minor second, a beautiful mousemaid stood there, a rose in full bloom clasped in her paws. With a wave, and a sad smile, Rose gave an air kiss to Martin, and faded.
"Rose! No!" cried Martin, and jumped for her fading figure-
And hit soft, grassy ground.
Opening his eyes, Martin looked up- and saw stars.
Still stars.
Pounding the earth in frustration, Martin felt like crying. Not for the first time had Rose appeared in his dreams, but he could have touched her in that dream! He had felt paws of other creatures, but why not Rose?
Struggling up from the grass, miserable about leaving the Citadel of Dreams, something sharp poked his paw…
Thinking it was some rock, Martin looked down, and gasped.
It was a rose in full bloom clasped in his paws.
(End Citadel of Dreams)
A/N Awwww…. A little gift from Rosie there in the end.
I KNOW I spelt some names wrong, but please forgive me! (And don't just leave a review with their correct spellings… I hate that. Spellings and WORDS OTHER THAN THAT would be nice.)
Maybe I will do some other warriors, maybe not. I had Grath, Ranguvar, Matthias, and possibly Bragoon or Sarobando. Reviews encourage me!
So please read and review!