Author's Note: Nothing special, just a little fic that takes place at some point during Bluestar's Prophecy. I wrote this almost two years ago and just redid it recently, haha.
My Clan Needs Me
Bluefur scrabbled carefully up the side of the ravine, her kit-swollen belly making the climb almost as strange and difficult as it had been when she was a new apprentice. She was very aware of Rosetail's stare burning into her back; Bluefur had told her friend earlier that she was going out into the forest for some fresh air and she'd be just fine on her own. Her kitting wasn't for a while anyway, so her stomach wasn't too large just yet.
But her explanation for Rosetail was only half of the truth. She was going on a short walk—that much wasn't the lie—but it was near the RiverClan border, and part of her hoped to see Oakheart there. She couldn't let anyone, not even one of her best friends, accompany her. No one in the Clan knew about her forbidden affair with the warrior tom.
Bluefur didn't want to dwell on that for now; she was going to talk with Oakheart soon, and that was enough to temporarily lift her spirits. She tried to focus on that pleasant thought as she made her way to the river, ears pricked for the sounds of other cats.
Her pace—and her heart—quickened when she finally heard the unmistakable gurgle of water nearby. Bluefur burst through a line of ferns and saw the wide, frothy river that cleaved the barrier between ThunderClan and RiverClan territory. She stopped on her Clan's side, bright eyes searching the opposite bank for signs of life.
But, of course, she saw nothing aside from a scuttling vole on the RiverClan border.
Mouse-brain, she thought, her heart heavy with disappointment as she turned away. Oakheart has duties of his own. He isn't always going to be here, looking for me.
She doubted that he'd be eagerto speak with her again, especially after their last conversation. Bluefur had told him then that she was going to have his kits—kits that would be raised without a father in order to protect them from rejection within the Clans. She knew her decision had hurt Oakheart—and it hurt her, too—but she wanted the best for the newborns when they arrived.
Something stirred on the RiverClan bank. Bluefur tensed, ready for a confrontation with a passing patrol, but she sheathed her claws when she caught sight of a familiar fox-red pelt.
"Oakheart," she breathed when the tom emerged from the shivering reeds.
Oakheart eyed her uncertainly, running a quick, careful eye over the shore before he jumped down and crossed into ThunderClan territory.
"I've missed you," he murmured, pressing his cheek to her muzzle as soon as his paws touched down on her side of the river. "How are you feeling?"
"Just fine for now," she replied after an anxious pause.
"Good." Oakheart kneaded the ground, hesitating for a moment while he carefully chose his words. "Did you…reconsider?"
Her own eyes flicked down to her paws, unable to meet his questioning—no, pleading—gaze.
"No."
"Bluefur-"
"I know. I just-!" She forced herself to stop and take a deep breath before she spoke again. "I just wanted to see you again. I've…I've missed you."
"I've missed you, too," Oakheart admitted, his eyes softening.
The two cats fell silent for a few heartbeats, happy just to be in each other's presence, if only for a while. Bluefur blocked out her own troubles, their enemy Clans, the Warrior Code itself—the all-important obstacles keeping her and Oakheart from being together. Bluefur sighed, suddenly weighed down by it all.
Oakheart nuzzled her again, clearly feeling the same burden she did.
"I have to go back. I could only get away from my patrol for a while," he told her apologetically.
"I know," Bluefur mewed, pressing her nose briefly to his flank. The scent of fish—a smell she had once detested—clung to his pelt. "I need to get back to camp before they come looking for me too."
Oakheart nodded once and glanced longingly at her kit-swollen belly before he turned to leave.
"Take care," he whispered, both to her and their unborn kits.
"You too," Bluefur murmured, blinking sadly. She darted back into the forest before he retreated back to his own side of the border.
It hurt, having to see him so furtively like this. Why couldn't he have been born a ThunderClan cat, or maybe she in RiverClan? Things would have been so much easier for them.
Or maybe StarClan could have traded him with Thistleclaw, she thought with a wry twitch of her whiskers. Then she could raise her kits without having to worry about her role in Goosefeather's prophecy.
But things didn't work out that way—she knew that. For now she had to do everything she could for ThunderClan and, most importantly, her and Oakheart's kits.
My kits need me.
My Clan needs me.
