Disclaimer- I don't own Redwall, all canon charries mentioned, and the song. I do own Ortail. Sorta. Onward!

"Take that, and that!" shouted young Swartt Sixclaw, waving about a toy sword.

His little friends where all cheering him on, yelling support and advice raucously and creating a general din.

"Stab, Swartt, stab!"

"Give it to her, Sixclaw!"

"Thrust, come on, thrust!"

His opponent, a young ferret maid, was panting hard, trying to parry each move he made with one of her own. Her own friends were watching with bated breath, wondering if she could overpower the jerk she had foolishly challenged. As her strength waned, the slightly older, stronger ferret drove her back toward the dry, musty ground. She stumbled, falling down to the dirt. Swartt seized his chance, pinning the maid down with the end of the wooden sword.

"Dat'll teach you to challenge Swartt Sixclaw, lassie," sneered the said young ferret. As he walked away with his gang, the maid's friends gathered around to help her up.

"You're lucky, Bluefen," remarked one rat. "One time, I fought Sixclaw, an' came out with half an ear less. The only reason ye still be in one piece is 'cause o' yore daddy."

Bluefen brushed off her tunic. "Don't be silly, Ortail. He just didn't wanna bother."

Ortail was adamant. "Den why didn't he use his real sword?" Not waiting for an answer, she continued. "Because Bowfleg would kill him if he did more than bruise you. Don't deny it, we've seen it happen." The other vermin maids nodded in agreement. "Don't say he don't care, we know he don't, but he does care 'bout being called coward. That be why Swartt didn't hurt you."

Bluefen was overwhelmed. Not by what her friend said, so much, but by how fast she was able to say it. She sighed. "I know, Ortail, but still, maybe there was another reason?" Ortail shook her head. "No, I didn't think so."

Another one of the group, a weasel, was curious about something. "Bluefen, how come yore mum puts up with yore da?"

The ferret maid sighed again. "I have no clue."

Bluefen slipped into the huts later that evening, having no desire for supper that evening. Who cares about roast woodpigeon if one's mind is malnourished? Not Bluefen, for one.

"Bluefen?" said a voice, soft and soothing in its being. "What's wrong? It's not like you to come back from a meal so soon."

The young ferret looked up into her mother's eyes. "Mamma, can I ask you a question?"

"Whatever you want to know, I'll tell you. You know that." The ferret wife gathered the young one up in her arms, holding her close.

Bluefen sighed, snuggling deeper into her mother's fur. "Mamma, why do you put up with Da?"

Bluefen's mother was slightly taken aback. "Now what put that idea into yore liddle head?"

"Well, Ortail was talking 'bout it, an' so was Whiplow……"

The ferret wife frowned. "Why were they talking about it?"

"I was sparring Sixclaw, and they said he let me of easy 'cause of Da, and yore not answering my question, Mamma."

"Answering yore questions about what?"

The two spun around in surprise, Bluefen dropping from her mother's arms. "Just some simple questions, Bowfleg. How an egg is made, what a sling does, that sort of thing."

Bowfleg sighed with relief. For a moment it sounded like his daughter was questioning his authority. "Alright, but don't keep her up too long, Slippa. I'm taking her hunting in the morning."

Slippa nodded. "Yes, Bowfleg."

The big male grunted, turning away from the hut's doorway. Soon, he was a speck in the distance, down by the campfire. The mother and daughter, left alone, resumed their conversation.

"So, you want to know why I put up with your father?" Bluefen said nothing, but her eyes told Slippa the answer. "I love him, Bluefen."

Bluefen bobbed her head, as if that was to be expected. Then it hit her. "You love Da?" she asked with disbelief.

Slippa smiled. "Yes, I do. Now come along, it's time for bed."

Bluefen jumped onto her pile of straw willingly. After all, she had had a long day. Worming into the cloak serving as her blanket, she was soon fast asleep. Her mother hummed softly, whispering a lullaby to her only child.

"As long as you need me,

I know where I must be,

I'll cling on steadfastly,

As long as you need me."

Slippa sighed as her song died away. Did she ever feel about Bowfleg the way she felt about Bluefen? Confused, the ferretwife decided that sleep might provide the answers……..

Bowfleg stood in front of her, a big, handsome male in his prime. But why would he want Slippa? She was slim, and delicate, and no use in a fight. Yet, the one many believed to be the next leader of the horde was choosing her.

Slippa's dream-self was grabbed by her future mate, and lifted up like a trophy. Bowfleg was carrying her to his hut, she remembered. Why he had done that was still hazed over by the fogs of time, but not important to Slippa at the moment. She recalled a feeling of pride that this great warrior would choose her over many other females. As she was set down on the mat of straw and feathers, Bowfleg spoke.

"Slippa, how do you feel of me?" It was a surprisingly tender question for one so rough and cruel. Slippa was mute; this was something she hadn't and couldn't have prepared for. Bowfleg continued. "I think that you are lovely, and trustworthy, you know. And… um…er….." Bowfleg had run out of steam, his emotions unable to phrase themselves. "Aw, what the fur. Go t' sleep, I'll talk t' ye in de morn'." The ferret reverted back to course, vermin slang, heading out the door once more. Slippa's dream then speed through the following day, 'till about mid-afternoon. Her friends were visiting her new quarters….

"Slippa, how do you feel 'bout Bowfleg?" asked one vixen.

Slippa was again, at lose for words. The other females figured that it was a touchy subject and stayed off the subject for the rest of the visit. But the question was bothering her. Twice now she had no answer. That was troubling.

That night, she asked herself the self-same question. Now, her tongue unafraid, she sang to herself the answer, the answer that eluded her before, in the form of her favorite lullaby.

"As long as he needs me,

I know where I must be,

I'll cling on steadfastly,

As long as he needs me."

Then a new verse sprang unbidden to her lips, continuing the song-

"If you are lonely,

Then you will know,

When someone needs you,

You love them so….."

Slippa trailed off, her dream already fading away.

The next morning, Slippa awoke later than usual, and found that Bluefen and Bowfleg had already left. She smiled as her dream ran through her mind again, relishing in the satisfaction of seasons long ago. Lovely memories, weren't they? Yes, Slippa decided, they were. Smiling to herself, she stepped outside into the camp.

Many seasons later, Bluefen sat in a simple lean-to, nothing like the tent her husband used. Smiling, she rubbed her stomach again, a spasm of delight coursing through her veins each time her baby pressed against her.

"He's coming, Ortail."

The rat stuck her head out of her herb sack. "An' how d'ye know it's a he, Bluefen?"

The ferret sighed. "I just know, Ortail."

Ortail shrugged. "Alright, 'ave it yore way." After a pause, she spoke up again. "Y'know, ye might die having the babe."

"I know. You'll take care o' him for me, right?"

"Best I can."

"Thanks, old friend."

Ortail blushed slightly, turning back to her search. "Now where is it?....."

Bluefen turned her attention back to the life growing inside of her. Softly, she hummed the self-same lullaby that her mother had sung. Ortail unconsciously joined her.

"As sure as life is long,

I'll be there for him right or wrong,

And somehow I'll be strong,

As long as he needs me."

Bluefen gasped in pain. "Ortail!"

With grim determination, the rat focused on her task; keep both creatures alive.

Ortail shouldered the babe on her shoulder without knowing for sure why; she had long since forgotten her promise to her long dead friend. As they walked down the path, the rat considered yet again the possibility of just abandoning the ferret-child, when the ambush began.

Forgetting the babe, she ran into the woods, back down the path, whichever way to safety. The baby, left alone in the ditch, wasn't crying, though he wanted to. He was comforted by the words his mother, a pale dream in the world of living, sang again to him that distant melody;

"As long as you need me,

I know where I must be,

I'll cling on steadfastly,

As long as you need me.

"If you are lonely,

Then you will know,

When someone needs you,

You love them so."

As sure as life is long,

I'll be there for you right or wrong,

And somehow I'll be strong,

As long as you need me."

Bryony smiled at little Veil. "Look at him. I think he likes it."

Bella nodded approvingly at Bryony's young charge. "Yes, I think he does." The badger slipped quietly out the door of the room, muttering so none could hear:

"Because you mean it, little mother. That's why he likes it."

In Dark Forest, Slippa and Bluefen joined the child, lulling the offspring of the three of them to sleep.

As sure as life is long,

I'll be there for you right or wrong,

And somehow I'll be strong,

As long as you need me.

Fin.

A/N: Grah, I wrote a romance! I hate myself…. R&R, please.