Guardian Angel Romsca

by Toboe LoneWolf

When Romsca died in Pearls of Lutra, it looked like she had become a Reformed Vermin. Does that mean she goes to the Happy Place where only good woodlanders get to go? Well, yes, sort of...but before that, she has to become...a guardian angel first...

5. Mission Numbers Four to Forever

Toboe LoneWolf: …I apologize greatly for the lateness. My only excuse is schoolwork and a sad inability to work well with original characters. But hey, you get an extra long chapter here. XP

When I first came with the idea of this fic, it had no plot. XP It was just basically going to be the escapades of Romsca dealing with various vermin in various humorous ways, holier-than-thou fashion. Because come on, an angel vermin rocks. XD Along the way a drabble of a plot came through; nothing great, nothing extensive. In any case this fic hinged on the fact that I would create an OC vermin for Romsca to deal with. Which I cannot do very well.

Therefore, I am basically fast-forwarding here. No matter what, I always finish my fics – sooner or later. This fic really never had a plot; it was basically going to be "The Chronicles of Romsca the Guardian Angel," that sort of thing, but I hate to leave things hanging when really, I can't come up with OC vermin.

However, that doesn't mean you can't do it yourselves. (winks) No, I am not taking requests. That doesn't mean that the escapades of Romsca the Guardian Angel, or really, a guardian angel of any Redwall vermin, cannot be written by you, dear readers. (It'd better be plausible though. The only way I'd see Cluny the Guardian Angel is in a wildly AU and most likely OOC humor/parody fic. XD)

So. I'll be carrying on. Let the rest of the chronicles be written elsewhere. (winks)

Disclaimer: Toboe LoneWolf does not own the series Redwall. Or angels.
…LoneWolf does own these cute little angel wings and a halo from old Christmas pageants though, does that count? No? Well pooh.
(And once again I apologize for the accent abuse and modernization of speech. My only excuse is that it is funny to me. Whether that is good enough is your opinion.)

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Mission Numbers Four to Forever: The Abbreviated Chronicles

So.

Romsca counted on her paw. That was…let's see, three little 'uns that'd she'd dealt with? Yeah. That Arven furball, the veggie stoat, and the paradox little giant. Romsca sighed. And how many times was she supposed to do this? Romsca raised an eyebrow. Scratch that, what in hellgates was she supposed to do now?

She shrugged and idly waved her cutlass around. "Yar, mission accomplished. Beam me up, badger me buckos."

…Imagine her surprise when she was beamed up.

…Those badgers had no sense of humor.

x x x x x

Lord Brocktree groaned. "She did what?"

"Gwarg is now, well, a peaceful, loveable giant that takes handouts." Laterose of Noonvale, more commonly known as Rose, turned from the glowing mirror.

Urthstripe looked upwards. "I knew that this vermin guardian angel was going to change too much."

Stonepaw nodded sagely. "The old ways are best."

"The old ways are a little too old." Lord Brocktree rubbed his head. "Besides, we need all the help we can get."

"Can get?" Orlando brandished his ax across the table. "She's practically rewriting history!"

Martin raised an eyebrow as he entered the room. "History hasn't even occurred yet."

Orlando glared. "You know what I mean."

"Pish tush." Rose waved a paw, getting up to stand next to Martin. "Does it matter? At least she's changing the threads. Perhaps not in the exact direction we wanted, but does it matter? At least it's different."

"Aw hellgates. What'd I screw up this time?"

All of the badgers heads turned to face Romsca.

Romsca blinked. "What? I ain't supposed t'be here?" She jabbed a paw at Martin. "He said you called."

Lord Brocktree sighed. "In a manner of speaking."

"Alrighty then. Then can one of youse please explain what in hellgates I'm doing, running around after little buggers?"

A long moment of silence and staring.

Romsca thought about rephrasing that. Then reconsidered. And then thought it best to simply shut her corsair mouth and look innocent. …It wasn't like they could kill her for impertinence.

Martin finally spoke. "Er. Well…it's a bit complicated."

"I got eternity, don't I?"

Rose shook her head. "Not really."

Romsca blinked. "Eh?"

"Well, it's like this." Martin scratched an ear. "Mortals are like this strand of thread. And we guardian angels basically direct where the thread goes."

"We are like weavers of cloth," Rose continued. "Ones who guide the threads to make something whole and beautiful."

"We are Guardians," Lord Brocktree added. "We protect the weave, preventing the Forces of Darkness from destroying the design."

"We are Guides," Orlando rumbled. "We lead the young to the right path, and keep them from turning wayward."

"We are all of this and more." A distinct glow was emanating around them. Martin outstretched his paws. "We are warriors, we are peacemakers, we, the Protectors of the Light, Defender of Justice, we are One, and Many."

And an invisible chorus sang,

"Hail!
Hail to the ones of the Light!
Never shall the darkness win!
Let the threads be united in harmony,
Joining in one chorus!
Hail!"

And with a great flash of brightness and glory and magnificence, it ended.

…Romsca stared. That was undoubtedly one of the cheesiest, dramatic moments of Romsca's life. Non-life. Whatever.

"Well, ain't we all special," she drawled.

Lord Brocktree leveled his eyes at her. "Yes."

"And what yer basically sayin' is we're all workin' for th' forces of good an' all that?" Romsca waved a paw. "I like that. Me, workin' fer good. Gotta laugh at that 'un…" Romsca trailed off as Lord Brocktree continued to glare. "Er. Right. So… what kinda good work do I get to do now?"

Rose tilted her head, and her eyes looked into the distance. "As of this moment? Fixing Arven."

Martin sighed. "Oh good, he's out of the covers."

Romsca blinked. " 'Ey, ain't he th' one I scared outta his fur?"

Orlando sighed. "That's the one." He glared at Romsca. "He was integral to the weave, and then you managed to completely tangle the whole thing. He was supposed to be the next Warrior of Redwall, and a vital part to the next great crossroads."

"Eh?"

Martin shook his head. "Never mind, I'll explain it later." He pushed Romsca out of the room. "Going…"

" 'Ey! I still don't get it! I want answers!"

"And you'll get them later. After Arven."

x x x x x

Romsca sighed. Back here again. Redwall, that is. She looked at her surroundings. Well, not that she'd ever been inside the walls, and in the dormitories to boot, but…right. Avoiding the situation. Romsca turned back on task.

She frowned. When that Martin mouse said the Arven bugger was out of his covers, Romsca didn't think he meant that literally.

Well, he was. Arven was out of his covers. And that was about it. Sitting on top of his bed, clutching the blankets around him, but hey, he was out of his covers. Romsca sighed again. That was an accomplishment though, right? Right?

Romsca emerged from the shadows. At least there was no one else here to see her.

"Oi."

Arven shrieked.

Romsca blinked.

She waved her paws as Arven dived back under the covers. " 'Ey! I ain't gonna hurt you!" She recalled what she'd said back then. "Or eat ya, or fry ya, or…yeah. Anythin'."

Arven shivered. "Nonono noes! Not gonna eat me! I's not outside, I inside like a good l'ttle dibbun!"

Romsca scratched her ear. "Uh…yeah. That's the point."

Arven stopped twitching. Romsca rubbed her nose. Okay, now what? She was supposed to "fix" him. "Make him a Warrior," that Martin mouse said. Tooth and claw. How in hellgates was she supposed to do that? Vermin never were made to be fighters or corsairs, basically they were frightened to death until they acted. "Throw the babe in the sea to make 'im swim," that was the basic corsair-raising technique, not some coddling or whatever…

…Avoiding the situation again.

Awkwardly Romsca walked over and…patted Arven. Surprisingly, the tyke didn't leap up and scream. Maybe it really was true – what you can't see can't hurt you…for young ones, that is.

Romsca swallowed. "So…ah…I hear you're really brave." Well. That was a great start. "And strong."

Arven squeaked.

Romsca continued to pat uneasily. "And…uh…"

This was not working and she could not think of a reason of how to make it work.

Aw, to Hellgates with it. She was doing this the corsair way.

Romsca sighed for a third time. Although she'd have to make a few revisions. Oh, this was going to be humiliating…

With that she yanked off the covers and contorted her face into the scariest expression as possible.

"Waaaaargh!"

…And got the predicted response:

"Yeeeeeeeeeeeeeeek!"

…And what Arven was not expecting was to see his scary apparition suddenly yell back in supposed fright and cover her face.

"Wah?" Arven gaped.

Inside her mind Romsca was ranting. Oh, this was definitely humiliating. And pathetic. Why couldn't the woodlanders be all brave and stuff now? Nevertheless, Romsca kept up with the act.

"Aaaah! 'Tis be the, uh, Great Arven! None can pass him! Everybeast quakes in his mighty wrath, the, uh, Warrior Arven!"

Thank hellgates…or whatever…that young ones were so easily impressible in manners like these.

Arven puffed his tiny chest. "Yaaaah! Youse better be 'fraid of me! I gonna whack you nowse!" He leapt off the bed and ran towards Romsca.

Romsca gave a very fake yell and ran around in circles, being chased by a dibbun.

Yes, very laughable indeed.

Pleeeeeease…

"Arven, what is that racket?"

Oh thank hellgates. Heavens. …She needed a new epithet. With relief Romsca turned invisible again. Arven stopped running and proudly faced the doorway.

"I just scareded away a blizzard!"

Tansy looked at Arven. Right. And blinked twice. Well, as long as Arven was no longer frightened out of his wits…

"Well, that was very…brave of you."

Arven skipped towards Tansy. "Don't youse worry, Tansy pansy, I protects youse. Now we's a gonna play!"

Bewildered, Tansy let herself be dragged down the stairs by a back-to-hyperactive Arven.

Why couldn't there be a happy medium…?

x x x x x

Outside, Martin blinked.

Romsca sure had a…interesting…technique.

Martin kept a calm face as Romsca emerged from Redwall. Romsca glared at him as they floated in mid-air.

"Before you say anythin': sure, us corsairs do it that way, but when we do it, we as sure as hellgates ain't fakin'." She came up close. "We do it fer real."

Martin blinked. "…Interesting family dynamic."

Romsca snorted. "You have no idea."

Martin rubbed the back of his neck. "Um. So…ah…as for your next mission…"

Romsca groaned. "Another one?"

Martin smiled apologetically. "A guardian's work is never done. And as the first corsair guardian angel, you have a lot of work…"

Romsca groaned again.

x x x x x

And lo, Romsca did do many deeds and quests in the name of good. And behold! For in tradition, these were written down in the Book of Chronicles, but in an Addendum entitled Archives Written By the Followers of the Recorder Brian Jacques. And so it was that Romsca learned and grew in wisdom and strength. There is too much to tell, for time does not pass the same way in their world as in ours. Let us skim the pages, then, to at least know part of the tale…

x x x x x

"Oi!"

Redsnout jumped up. "Who's dat?"

Romsca waved a paw in front of his face. "Me."

Redsnout yelled and fell back down. "Yaaahh!"

"Hey! I ain't gonna hurt ya, I'm just…just…" Romsca frantically tried to come up with a reason, "uh, I'm an angel!"

She pointed at the halo over her head.

Redsnout stared. "…Yer an angel?"

Romsca sighed. "Somethin' like that."

"Yer can't be no angel, you be a corsair, and corsairs can't be no angel!" Redsnout scratched an ear. "…Wot be an angel anyways?"

Romsca shrugged. "Dunno. Came with the job; my pop never said nuthin' about angel-types." Romca rubbed her head. "So. How's life?"

"Dunno."

"…Uh huh. Yer mum?"

Redsnout blinked. "She makes food."

…

x x x x x

And met others…of her kind…

x x x x x

Romsca blinked. "There's another one like me?"

Martin smiled sheepishly. "Well, sort of. He's not of guardian rank like you, but he helps from time to time." He waved a paw. "Oi, come out, Blaggut."

Romsca turned to see a large searat.

Blaggut shuffled his feet, looking at the floor. A floor made of fluffy clouds, but at least it wasn't see-through and Blaggut could continue the notion that if he stared hard enough, nothing truly embarrassing would happen.

"Er…I be Blaggut. I make boats."

x x x x x

And learned of her new life…

x x x x x

Romsca rubbed her eyes. "So wot yer sayin' is that, that Rose lady mousey looks into this glowy thing, and she sees somebeast or somethin' an' she tells this badger lordy Lord Brocktree, and then he pulls me tail and sends me off on a mission? That 'ow it works?"

Martin raised an eyebrow. "Bluntly put, yes. Though you probably don't want to say that to his face."

Romsca opened her eyes and looked at Martin. "Alright, so now that I've got that, I got a question."

The aforementioned lady mouse walked into the heavenly courtyard where Martin was teaching Romsca the subtleties of her new world. She was carrying a tray of honey cakes, which she handed to Martin. Martin offered Romsca a cake.

Romsca took it and began to scarf it. With her other paw she pointed at Rose. "Why is she always bringing you honey cakes?"

Martin flushed.

"She's my wife."

"…Oh."

Rose laughed.

x x x x x

And grew in strength…

x x x x x

"Wot in hellgates?" Romsca craned her neck to look at her back.

Rose smiled. "Ah, you've come a long way, Romsca."

Martin nodded. "Wings mean you've climbed higher in rank."

Romsca glared.

"And wot in hellgates does a rank of half a wing mean?" She said, waving the offending appendage.

x x x x x

And continued to be a corsair through and through, guardian angel or not…

x x x x x

The pine marten snuffled and rolled over. "Wotcher be you?"

Romsca glared at him. "I asked you." Romsca unsheathed her cutlass. A nice view of a Sharp Pointy Object never hurt...

The pine marten stared. "Oi, I be Trellen."

x x x x x

And gained in wisdom…

x x x x x

Romsca sighed. "Why 'm I the one who has t'do this? Can't some other angel do this?"

Martin shook his head. "We don't have anyone with your history, or background, or simply anyone who really understands how a corsair works." Martin walked over and tapped Romsca's forehead. "So, your next mission remains the same. The fox Nightpaw."

"Only me…" Romsca trailed off.

Martin nodded sadly. "Only you."

Romsca turned to face the sun. "Guess there ain't many corsairs that turn out like me."

"No. Not many." Martin put a paw on Romsca's shoulder. "But you're helping. Soon, there will be more like you…you are only the first."

"I had a bad past." Romsca said suddenly. "Perhaps all corsairs do. And maybe that's why only I can do this. …It's hard, though. Doing this alone."

"I know." Martin trailed off, remembering. "But remember…you are never really alone in this. We are all working together."

Romsca pulled back, smiling. Two pairs of wings manifested, glowing pearly white. Yes, Romsca had finally attained her wings.

"And I can at least make this one's better. Nightpaw, was it?"

Martin nodded. Romsca shifted, and flew – back down to earth, where somebeast needed her…

x x x x x

And lo, this is just a part of Romsca's tale.

Oolong the Mighty, Scrufftail the Swordsmith, Piffle the Babysitter…all of these and more Romsca had a part in. Krump the Jolly, Perclaw the Green…each one, changed by Romsca's actions. A thread in time, changed forever…

And then the time came for the Great Battle…the one that would determine the age…