This chapter was edited since it was first posted.
I'd like to give a huge thank you to Blackish for his great criticism (his criticism was the basis for the edits I made). I really appreciate that kind of help for me to grow as a writer and make better fics!
And a shout out to my beta, Kelaiah. You rock!
"Oh yeah, ye' lily-livered cottontail?" shouted a black-furred mouse maid over the din of the Great Hall supper. The hares in her immediate vicinity quieted to observe the mouse and hare who were staring each other down from across the table. "I could kill as many vermin as you blindfolded! And with no weapon!" She sneered at the taller and bigger creature, her voice feminine but heated. Some of the surrounding hares gave quieted 'Ooohs' and looked to the hare across from the belligerent mouse for his response.
The large hare laughed insolently at her, retaliating, "Being lily-livered is a bloomin' funny accusation from a maid named Lily!"
The mouse hissed at the unwanted nickname, "It's Lilith! 'n at least me mum didn't name me Hare-y."
Harry, the hare staring her down, bristled; she'd mentioned his mum and made fun of his name!
"If you weren't a maid, I'd knock you out for that!" the big hare warned her, but Lilith slammed a paw down on the table.
"Ye' don't care I'm a maid, ye'r just scared about how I'll whip your sorry tail in a fair-"
"Silence, all of ye'!" Brother James shouted from behind Harry. Harry, already acquainted with the old mouse's temper, bolted upright and immediately replied with a hurried Yessah. Lilith quieted as well, but her pugnacious mood was anything but quenched. Turning her eyes the the older mouse who interrupted her, she noticed who was behind him: a stoat! All of the other hares were still and quiet in surprise of the situation, but Lilith didn't skip a beat, starting to stand and immediately reaching for the hilt of her sword.
"Don't you dare!" Brother James rebuked with a roar, pointing at Lilith's swordpaw. "This creature is a guest, and you're to make him feel welcome. And if ye' ever draw that thing within the walls of this abbey, I'll confiscate it!"
Under the surprising intensity of Brother James' warning, the mousemaid stood down, but glared at the shirtless stoat, who swallowed visibly, noticably frightened by the fiery warrior.
As Brother James motioned for Micah to continue walking with him past the occupied tables, Micah glanced furtively in each direction and whispered something to the old mouse.
"What'cha say, son? These ears ain't what they used to be, speak up!" Brother James responded impatiently.
The stoat, looking uneasy, leaned in and whispered again.
"Fine, I'll get ye' a shirt, just sit down and start eating."
Since the mouse and stoat walked away, the hares returned to their regular demeanor, gluttonously dispatching their food and making raucous small talk. But Lilith, still fuming silently from the old mouse's rebuke, began to stuff blueberry scones down her mouth and wash them down generously with Elderberry wine.
The table James sat Micah at was sparely occupied, but he was still overwhelmed; he had never seen so many creatures in one place, never mind been in the midst of such a crowd. And now, with the only beast he was familiar with having left, he was alone, and unsure of what to do. The unusual sight of the shirtless, uncertain stoat caught the attention of a nearby beast.
"You c'n go ahead and eat, you know," said a voice across the table from the stoat, who jumped as if the voice were a scream. The stoat, wide-eyed, stared mutely at the creature across from him: an otter, who, like the stoat himself, was of teenage seasons. Visibly confused by the stoat's behavior, the otter continued, "You know, you take your plate, and you put a serving of the food from some of the bigger plates-"
"I know how meals work," the stoat hissed indignantly as he noticed the unintentional but condescending tone that'd creeped into the otter's voice, his ears redding imperceptibly. The otter recoiled visibly at the stoat's response and sudden change of demeanor, making Micah immediately regret how he reacted.
"I'm sorry, that was rude of me," the stoat muttered, looking down and rubbing an arm. It had been a while since he'd seen another creature besides his father, and anxiety from this environment gripped him. The otter across from him noticed his discomfort and saw it a rather pitiful sight: the shirtless, anxious stoat was clearly not doing too well. He grabbed the stoat's plate, and quickly filled it up with chopped nuts, some candied chestnuts, a pasty with a shiny golden crust, a vegetable flan, a slice of nutbread, some yellow sage cheese studded with dandelion, acorn and celery, along with some sugared plums, honeyed pears, snowcream pudding and damsons, before setting it back down before him, followed by a beaker of strawberry cordial.
"Only a bit rude, but it's alright, matey, don'tcha worry," the otter told Micah with a smile.
The stoat, nonplussed at the amount and variety of food heaped before him, gave a quick and subdued thank you before slowly starting to eat, turning his gaze quickly away from the otter. The otter looked at the Micah expectantly, waiting for the stoat to begin some sort of conversation, or at least introduce himself, but the stoat clearly wasn't interested in socializing. With a shrug, the otter returned to his own meal of shrimp 'n' hotroot soup, dipping some new bread with a shiny golden crust into it and biting in to it with relish.
At the hares' table, as the plates set before the emissaries from Salamandastron emptied, Harry cleared his throat conspicuously, drawing the looks of his fellow Long Patrollers and the mouse sitting across from him.
"Soldiahs," he began as quietly as he could manage, throwing a glance in each direction to make sure that none of the abbey residents were listening; they weren't. "Don't forget why we're here. And Lilith," the hare paused to make eye contact with the mouse, "remember not to cause ripples. We don't want to scare the abbeybeasts before we know what the situation is."
Lilith's indignant response was uncomfortably loud.
"I can be subtle!"
Under the stern glare Harry shot her, she grumbled, "...Sarge." Harry and Lilith's heated bickering was a part of their strong friendship, but in matters pertaining to their mission, Harry needed her to understand that she had to be obedient and respectful like all beasts of the long patrol were expected to be.
Harry almost brought a paw to his forehead in exasperation as he noticed in the periphery of his vision that the mousemaid's volume had attracted the curious looks of a few of the abbeybeasts at the surrounding tables. The black-furred mouse noticed this as well, and, embarrassed, she conceded, "As ye' say, sarge."
Harry made a mental note to himself to keep Lilith on some sort of leash; he loved what her fiery spirit brought to the morale of his team, but he worried that he might regret bringing her on this reconnaissance mission. He'd selected the rest of his team because of their experience and skills, but truthfully, he'd only brought her along because she had begged him to let her be a part of the mission when he told her why he was leaving Salamandastron.
Lilith sat, nursing her wounded pride. She resolved to herself to prove to the rest of them that she could be subtle and collect information, shooting a glare at the stoat at the other table.
Micah's eyes seemed glazed over as he bit into the vittles that had been set before him. Had he not been completely entranced by these rich and diversified delicacies, he might have appreciated the irony of having an almost religious experience within the walls of the abbey because of its food. It wasn't that his adoptive father hadn't fed him well, only that what he and the squirrel ate was what they could forage, hunt, or trade for at the market of a nearby village: all simple things.
A strong paw tapped his shoulder, and a swivel of the head confirmed that it was Brother James with a brown tunic for the stoat.
"Here ye' go, son," Brother James said as he handed Micah the tunic. Micah accepted it with a quiet 'thank you', and clumsily put it on.
"You put it on the wrong way, matey!" laughed the otter sitting across from him; indeed, the stoat noticed it didn't fit on quite right, and was a bit tight around the chest and loose around the back. After pausing for a second in his own embarrassment, the stoat started to laugh along with the amiable otter who seemed to have an infectious good humor. It was enough to keep the stoat smiling after he corrected the tunic.
Brother James gently smiled as well, but his manner turned serious again as he sat next to Micah.
"Micah, your... father... says that ye'r a good beast, so I believe him. But you need to tell us: who are you?"