DISCLAIMER: It all belongs to Brian Jacques…except the characters I made up. They're MINE. Muahaha!

SEVENTEEN SEASONS LATER

"Take that, you blithering brushtail! Is that the best you can do?" teased a handsome fox, son of Chawna the foxwife. He tickled his sister's tail with his dulled bladepoint as they sparred in the sword practices that their mother insisted upon them each day.

Deilia, daughter of Blana the traitor, but known to everyone else as daughter of Chawna and twin sister of Sparit, spun around to face her brother, spinning her blade artistically as she dodged and wove around him, almost as if she were dancing. "I let you get that close to me, blatherbrains!" she barked, spinning around him suddenly to nick the back of her brother's neck lightly. "You would have been a deadbeast there!" she crowed. "And all I would have lost is a tail!"

"Aye, bet you wouldn't look half as pretty without a tail, Deilia!" retorted Sparit, tossing his head mockingly. "Taste my blade, fiend!"

The two siblings and very good friends fought with ease, their blades flashing in the morning sun in an almost playful manner. Both were, even to the most inexperienced eye, excellent swordsbeasts, and it became difficult to decide which would beat the other in the friendly sparring match. Finally, the vixen stamped on her brother's tail swiftly, then whacked him hard across the ears with the blunt of her blade, flooring him as he rubbed his head ruefully.

"Not so hard next time!" he grumbled, touching his bruised forehead tenderly. "I didn't hit you that hard last time I beat you!"

"Not last time, but remember a few months ago, when you bit my ear? Well, that's my bit of revenge for that particular incident," replied Deilia tartly, smiling sweetly at her brother. "Cheers."

"As a matter of cheers," grumbled Sparit good-naturedly, "Want to head down to Urga's for a pint of elderberry wine? Tis good stuff!" he said blissfully.

"Mother doesn't approve of you drinking so much," said Deilia, eyeing her brother carefully. "You know that! She knows those local ruffians that hang around there, at Urga's…"

Sparit shrugged. "Urga's got the best brew around, sis…and mum won't have to know…besides, I promised Dragonflame I'd introduce you…"

Deilia grinned and pulled a face. "Dragonflame is good-looking, but not nearly as bright as he is handsome…I still find it hard to believe that he knows how to read."

"He can't stop talking about you," said Sparit wisely. "He talks about the way you walk, the way you talk, the way you toss your head, the way you waggle your tail, the way you eat, for heaven sakes!"

"I waggle my tail?" asked Deilia doubtfully, while her brother snorted with laughter. "Dragonflame must be imagining things…."

"Oh, no, I don't think so," said Sparit, in a mocking, solemn voice. "He speaks of the awe-inspiring waggling tail every day."

"Ahh, you're kidding me!" retorted Deilia, giving her brother a paw. "Let's try some of this wine, then, shall we?"

"No telling mum though!" warned Sparit.

"Or course not!" replied Deilia innocently. Leaning casually on her brother's arm, they strolled to the local bar, where three unruly rats were arguing over the results of a gambling game.

"Two pints of elderberry wine, Urg!" called Sparit, banging his sword on the counter as he called to the fat foxwife. "And meet my sister, Deilia. She's never tried any of your wine before, so she's in for a treat, eh?"

Urga cast an appraising eye over Deilia, then smiled hugely. "She's a pretty wee thing, she is, meh dear Sparit. Don't look a bit like you or the Missus though, I have to add! Did yore poor dead pappy have green blinkers like hers?"

"Um…" Sparit's tail twitched a little as he shrugged. "Maybe one of my grandparent's had green eyes like hers. No matter, really. Now, the wine, please, Urga?"

Urga cast one last calculating look at Deilia before sliding to goblets to them. "There you go, Master Sparit, and Lady Deilia. Hope yeh enjoy it!"

Sparit nodded, tossing Urga a few coins in payment before leading his sister to where three of his closest friends were sitting, drinking their own drinks while talking loudly.

Dragonflame's jaw dropped as he clapped eyes on Deilia. "You actually brought 'er, Spar?" he asked his friend numbly. "Yeh should have tol' me you was going to, and I woulda did a better job on dressin' today!" he protested fiercely.

Sparit snorted, taking a seat. "You ain't got but one outfit anyways, scrufftail," he joked, sliding into ship's slang as Dragonflame reddened.

"Aw, shut up," he muttered, lowering his head. "I got more fancy belts 'n swords than you, bugnose."

"And where'd you steal them from? You're mama's closet?" sneered Sparit, as his other friends roared with laughter.

Dragonflame clammed up huffily, glaring at his best friend in bottled fury. Sparit chuckled and whacked his friend's back in a friendly manner. "Yew know I was jest jokin', Dragonbottom!"

Dragonflame remained glaring and moping, so Sparit used the time to steal Dragonflame's mug and take a big gulp of it. "Ah, nothing like a good spiceroot ale between friends, eh?"

Dragonflame snatched back his mug, shoving Sparit while trying to suppress a grudging smile. "Make fun of me if yeh will, Spar, but never take a fox's drink!"

"I'll remember that one," replied Sparit amiably, winking at the female ferret that was sitting next to Dragonflame. "Aye, Keona, I heard you were made a Captain of the Army, is that true?"

Keona smiled shyly and nodded. While this shyness seemed like a weakness to the eye, anybeast that knew her well dared not to cross her path if she had a bow and a quiver in her reach. Keona was often known as having the keenest eyes in the whole army, along with one of the fastest reflexes as well.

"Good job on that!" said Deilia, smiling at Keona. "I knew you could do it!"

Keona returned the smile and giggled. "It's not as good being a Captain as you lot think it is," she admitted. "It's actually a lot of rules, and a lot of bowing before High Lord Tazzur," she said, shaking her head. "Since I'm a new Captain, I only command a sector of one and a half score beasts—not much at all."

Sparit sighed. "I was actually hoping Tazzur would choose me as the next Captain, but at least it was you and not that uglyface, Charick."

Charick was a stout and particularly ugly male weasel who was fond of yelling and ordering beasts around. His temper was short, as were his wits, and he overall hated everyone, except for an obsessive infatuation of the middle-aged, gorgeous assassin, Mirage.

"Ah, if Tazzur chose Charick, I think I would have killed Charick right off…or maybe Tazzur," said Dragonflame thoughtfully.

"Shhh!" spat Keona, looking around furtively. "Lord Tazzur has spies everywhere, and if he heard you say that, you'd be deader than a mouse playing hide and seek with a wildcat, my friend."

Dragonflame shrugged off the thought and chuckled, but he looked around himself in a nervous fashion all the same. There was an awkward silence before Keona stood up, dusting off her paws. "Ah, well, I guess I should be getting on to my duties again…nice talking to you guys."

Deilia and Sparit stood up as well, smiling ruefully. "We should get a start back home too," agreed the two. "Our mother is dead fierce when it comes to drinking…she mustn't know we've been to the bar."

"Ah, two strong wee beasties, afraid of their mummy," teased Dragonflame. "Run along now, Sparit!" he grinned, and as an afterthought, added, "And will you oblige on a walk by the beach with me, Deilia? Tonight, perhaps?"

Deilia blushed, and though she did not fancy Dragonflame, she decided to humor him. "Alright, that sounds nice," she said amiably. "I'll meet you next to Hook's Boulder, if that's okay with you."

Dragonflame couldn't believe his luck, and he nearly tripped over his chair as he got up quickly. "Oh, definitely fine with me, Deilia! I'll bring you some of my mum's best strawberry cream candies too, you'll love those!" he babbled. "And some flowers, wouldn't you like some nice flowers."

Deilia was taken aback, and began to say that she didn't need flowers, but happened to see the hopeful look on Dragonflame's face. Not only was he offering all these things to her, he wanted to do these things for her. "Flowers…. They sound wonderful!" she said brightly. "You're too sweet!"

Dragonflame grinned bashfully, then practically ran out of the bar. Halfway out, he stumbled, fell flat on his face, then got up rubbing a bruised nose. Turning back to grin at her sheepishly, he stumbled out again.

Sparit watched Dragonflame go with a shake of his head. "You shouldn't play with his feelings like that, Deilia. Dragonflame's a fickle fellow, and while he's nice most of the time, he can be downright mean. Watch out for yourself when playing with types like him…you might find out it's too dangerous for your liking."

"Faw, I could best Dragonflame at a swords fight any day," sneered Deilia, but as she surveyed her brother's worried face, she sighed. "I suppose you're right though. I'll tell Dragonflame tonight that I only like him as a friend…so that he doesn't grow on me too much."

"He already has," replied Sparit darkly. "Let's get on home now, and not a word of this to mother. If you told her Dragonflame's courting you, she'd never approve. You know how close Dragonflame is with that Mirage…he's always chatting with her, although she's nearly eighteen seasons his senior. Mum hates Mirage and her mate Tazicale too. She doesn't even let us talk to them!"

"Oh, fine," said Deilia bitterly. "Fine. But I hate keeping secrets from mother…she always seems to discover out I'm lying anyways."

"You won't be lying, you'll just be keeping something from her. Besides, it's not like you're hiding the fact that you've murdered someone or something…."

Deilia shrugged moodily as they entered their home—a small house with a thatched roof with a neat stained glass window set in the door. "Mum, we're done with practice!" she called. "We met up with some friends at the…um…"

"Barracks," finished Sparit hastily. "Yeah, you know, Keona got promoted to Captain!"

Chawna appeared in the small entrance hall, her eyes still bright and merry, and she still possessed much of her former beauty, but her fur was now beginning to be flecked with grey, and her whiskers were thinning out. "Ah, Keona, the pretty little ferretmaid?" mused Chawna. "Lord Tazzur made a good choice…our little Keona is a formidable fighter!"

"I agree," said Sparit, reaching out to take an apple from the basket his mother was carrying. "Ow!"

Chawna slapped his paw again, looking at him with disapproval. "These apples are for the pie I'm making, Mr. Theiveall. If you want pie tonight, then you better not steal any of these applies!"

Sparit sighed and turned away. "Alright."

Chawna smiled at her children fondly before rubbing her paw in some soot and dusting it over a small patch of fur on her daughter's footpaw, where an odd crescent-shaped birthmark was beginning to show. "Remember, daughter, reapply the sticky soot to hide this birthmark every four hours! You can't let anyone see it…I told you how dangerous it could be to your life!"

It was Deilia's turn to sigh. "Why is it dangerous? Why won't you ever tell me?"

"Because," said Chawna firmly. "You don't need to know yet. Perhaps someday, but certainly not today, when I'm planning to make a delicious pie in celebration for your seventeenth season birthday!"

Sparit's jaw dropped. "It's out birthday today? I nearly forgot! Did you get us gifts?" he added, slightly embarrassed.

Chawna smiled knowingly. "I find it hard to believe that you two actually forgot your birthday. For you, Sparit, I have a new ivory-handed dagger, inlaid with fine stones. It was your father's before he was murdered."

Sparit took the weapon gingerly and admired it in the sparkling sun. "It's wonderful! So sharp and easy to grasp! It fits my paw perfectly!"

"And you, Deilia, I have this…" she offered her daughter a dazzling bracelet, sparkling with so many gems that it was hard to look at it without one's eyes hurting. "It was…a gift from someone very special to me, and I thought you should have it."

Deilia held her breath as she tried it on. It fit perfectly. "Oh, mother!" she breathed. "It's gorgeous! I'm afraid to even wear such a fine thing!"

"I'm glad you like it," she said, smiling. "Now, for the pie. You two, run along now, and I'll call you in when I'm ready."

As Chawna watched her nearly grown-up children run of gleefully to show off their new gifts, she couldn't help but smile and wonder how long such a wonderful dream could last.