Work Text:
The first morning of summer dawned warm, bright, and cloudless, the sun burning away the last few traces of spring dew on its journey into the sky. Golden traces of sunlight danced across the Abbey pond, rippling reflections turning the still water into a kaleidoscope of colors that danced under a brilliant blue sky.
Matthias the Warrior made his way across the Abbey grounds at a leisurely pace, taking the time to admire his beloved home along the way. The seasons never changed Redwall, no matter what effect they had on the creatures that lived there; the weathered red sandstone had stood tall and strong and safe through countless winters and summers, and Matthias had no doubt that the Abbey would outlive him and many generations after him.
“Morning, Matthias!” Jess Squirrel bounded out of an apple tree with an armload of dead branches strapped to her back, straightening up and adjusting her bundle. “Have you seen Cornflower this morning?”
“No, I’m afraid I haven’t.” Matthias paused mid-stride, momentarily distracted from the beauty around him. “Is everything all right, Jess?”
“As far as I know, it is,” the squirrel told him. “She mentioned looking for you when I passed her a few minutes ago, that’s all. Shall I help you look for her?”
“No, that’s all right. I’ll find her.” Matthias smiled and changed course, starting toward the outer wall and the nearest stairs. His wife had her predictable patterns, especially when the seasons changed, and he knew exactly where to start looking.
Sure enough, Cornflower stood on the walltop over the gateway, gazing out over the Abbey grounds, the pond, and the orchard. Matthias called her name as he approached, and was rewarded with a smile, one that still took his breath away just as much as it had the first time he had met her all those seasons ago.
“What’s going on?” The Warrior wrapped an arm around his wife’s shoulders, the two of them leaning against each other as they watched the Abbey coming to life below them. Everywhere they looked, creatures bustled back and forth, beginning to prepare the lawns for the new season’s celebration planned that afternoon.
Cornflower rested her head on his shoulder, humming softly before speaking. “Nothing, really. It’s going to be a beautiful day.”
Matthias smiled at her. “Not as beautiful as you.” He kissed the top of her head and held her a little closer. “But I know there’s something on your mind. Is anything wrong?”
“No, not exactly.” Cornflower sighed and leaned contentedly into Matthias’s side. “Season changes always remind me of waiting for you and Matti to return. He was so young last summer—they all were.”
Matthias nodded, sobering as he remembered their long quest, the terrible fear of not knowing if he would rescue his son in time, or if either of them would ever see Cornflower again. It must have been even worse for Cornflower, waiting at Redwall and facing down the raven general without knowing where they were or if they were even alive. And if he thought further back, to the Summer of the Late Rose, the memories of the terrible war and all the friends they had lost still lingered. “Summers haven’t always been easy for us, have they?”
Cornflower laughed softly. “No, they haven’t. It’s a shame. Summer has always been my favorite season. It’s so beautiful. The birds, the flowers, soft night breezes, watching the little ones chase fireflies…but the memories are still hard.”
Matthias rubbed her shoulder, watching Ambrose Spike and the young otter Cheek working together, with much grumbling and mock-complaining, to set up the first long trestle in the orchard. “You know what? We need some summer traditions that don’t involve kidnapping, mayhem, or the Abbey under siege.”
“Do you think so?” Cornflower tilted her chin up slightly so she could meet his gaze, a hint of mischief in her smile. “Well, I suppose that sounds like a good idea, as long as it doesn’t involve fishing.”
“Oh no.” Matthias laughed at the thought. “Matti and Sister May have taken over that tradition. Perhaps we could convince them to share the pond and enjoy a quiet midnight sail?”
“You may not need your sleep, o Warrior of Redwall, but I do,” Cornflower teased. “Perhaps we could find a tradition that doesn’t take place in the middle of the night.”
Matthias watched the Abbot, Sister Agnes, and John Churchmouse setting out a breakfast table beside the main Abbey door, arranging it so that creatures could either put together trays and find somewhere to relax and eat, or simply pause for something on their way to complete the morning’s tasks. “I might have an idea. How would you feel about taking our breakfast outside the Abbey today?”
“Outside?” Cornflower blinked in surprise. “Well, we can’t go on too much of an excursion. The Summer Feast is tonight, and they’ll need our help with the preparations soon.”
“I’m sure they can spare us for a little while. Besides, I know you’ve been working harder than any of them in the kitchens, and Mattimeo and I spent all of yesterday helping Foremole and his crew prepare the baking pit for tonight,” Matthias reasoned. “There are plenty of willing paws already helping, and we’ll be back in plenty of time for the final preparations. What do you say? A breakfast picnic in Mossflower Wood? It’s a beautiful day. We should at least stop for a little while to enjoy it. I’m sure our friends will understand.”
“You make a very convincing argument.” Cornflower squeezed Matthias’s paw and straightened up briskly. “Right, then, I’ll tell the Abbot you and I will be back before noon, if you’ll pack us a picnic basket.”
***
Mossflower Woods was peaceful and beautiful, with birds twittering in the distance, bees buzzing around newly blooming flowers, and the faint ripple of the River Moss audible on the breeze rustling the towering trees above them. There was no need to hurry, not under these circumstances; Cornflower and Matthias strolled leisurely through the forest, paw in paw, pausing here and there for Cornflower to collect a few pawfuls of herbs for Sister May, and for Matthias to examine a tiny grove of new saplings that had sprung up in a small clearing.
“It’s good to see the forest has recovered so well,” Cornflower remarked, brushing a paw gently along a new clump of brilliant green ferns. “I remember when this part of the woods was still burned and crushed after Cluny’s army passed through. Now you’d never know they were damaged, except for the old tree stumps.”
“And even those have been covered over by moss now. There’s no sign an army was ever here,” Matthias agreed, sitting down beside one of the stumps in question and gazing up at the leaves forming a soft green canopy overhead. Glimpses of a brilliant clear-blue sky were visible through small gaps, and rays of sunlight filtered down to create shimmering golden patterns on the forest floor. “It’s amazing, isn’t it?”
Cornflower settled down close to him, tucking her herbs into a corner of the picnic basket. “It is,” she agreed. “It’s been a long time since I’ve been out in Mossflower in summer.” She leaned over the basket and kissed Matthias on the cheek. “Thank you for this. It’s lovely.”
Matthias felt himself blush right to the tips of his ears, the same way he had when she had first kissed him all those seasons ago, and smiled at her. “So you like the tradition?”
“I think we should keep it.” Cornflower smiled, her eyes sparkling in the sunlight.
“I do too.” Matthias took her paw, and thought how very lucky he was that Cornflower Fieldmouse had agreed to give him the time of day all those seasons ago. “I don’t know where I would be today without you, you know.”
“I know.” Cornflower winked at him, squeezed his paw, and added, “You would still be the Warrior of Redwall, I am sure. And I would still be proud of you. But without you and I, we wouldn’t be here in Mossflower Wood today, making our own traditions—and there is nowhere I’d rather be than at your side.”
There was nothing Matthias could say that could adequately convey what he felt at that moment. Instead, he simply drew Cornflower close, and the two of them sat together in the warm sunshine, listening to the birds sing and the bees buzz overhead as Mossflower Wood came alive with the sounds of summer.