AN: Well, look at this. I finally sat myself down and finished something I'd started. Anyway, this took several hours to write, being the nitpicker that I am. I'm not entirely happy with it – I think it loses direction a bit. Overall, though, I'm pretty pleased with it.

Whether you enjoyed it or thought it needed work, I'd love to hear from you. :) Feedback is always welcome.

The alternate title to this piece is Autumn Reflection

Fairy Tale

By Steel Plated Bambi

The cats of the clans rarely had time to appreciate the beauty of their forest home. Kittypets could spend all the time they liked in the sill of their master's window, be it Newleaf, Leaffall or Leafbare, simply admiring the distant world beyond their protective pane of glass and being at ease with the knowledge that a warm saucer of milk would be waiting for them when they retired to the kitchen. Clan cats, more often than not, hadn't the time to sit and watch the world go by; they knew the harsher side of the seasons, and each year prepared for Mother Nature's treacherous turn against them come colder times.

Firestar had been quite young when he'd left his old life behind, but he could still recall what it was like to be on the other side of the window pane. Stories were a common thing among kittypets. They would spend hours at a time visiting friends, discussing weather, new toys, and those mysterious, wild forest cats. He'd heard all the rumours about how they caught their own prey with their claws, and ran through the wild getting twigs tangled in their fur, and slept on the ground under the sky. The young tom had been unusually interested in these accounts, and asked question after question, much to the chagrin of the other housecats, who had little to back up their stories. He remembered curiousity that grew and grew, becoming a desperate longing, one that almost hurt -- the need to just once, be able to see what was beyond that tame little square of a yard, the prim, clipped hedges, and the never-ending wall of wooden fencing.

The young leader of ThunderClan let out his breath in a cloud of white vapour that vanished almost as quickly as it had appeared. The insatiable wanderlust was no longer there, having been replaced by the heavy but welcome burden of leading his clan through the ups and downs of forest life. Firestar found himself anchored to this place by an unimaginable force, one stronger and more powerful than a cat could comprehend. The warrior's sense of honour and loyalty played into it, yes -- but so did love, and friendship, and a profound sense of duty to the cats he called clan and family. Not quite the fairy tale world he might have imagined, but it was magical in its own right.

The fur rippled along the tom's back in a wave of goose bumps, and he was reminded of the biting chill in the air that was always a part of Leaffall. Already the days were growing short; the sky above was fading fast as the sun began to sink on the horizon. Of course that meant almost a dozen changes to normal ThunderClan schedules. Patrols would have to be moved to an earlier time, he'd need to impose some sort of curfew to prevent kits stumbling around in the dark…

Firestar groaned softly, creating another puff of steamy air as he made a noise of consternation. He really, really didn't want to think about all those things right now, not in this rare moment of peace he'd found for himself. The ginger tom squeezed his eyes shut tight and opened them again, trying to recapture the feeling. Here the trees opened up and gave way to the rocky shoreline beside the RiverClan border. Their branches not yet bare, they stood in silent repose, waiting for the next breeze to carry away the last of their leaves and leave them exposed to winter's wrath. It was cold, and quiet, and though Firestar's paws were numb with chill, it was an oddly satisfying moment. He felt that old kitten's wonderment rise in his chest as he looked out over the wilderness surrounding him. Perhaps it was something he'd never quite gotten over – a certain sense of awe he felt when he was actually able to slow down and observe the miraculous transition from one season to another.

A light wind picked up, and withered leaves skittered across the ground toward the river. A few came loose from the trees, tumbling down around Firestar as he looked up, bemused. A childish impulse struck him, and the leader of ThunderClan stood on hind legs to bat at the falling leaves around him, watching with glee as they spun and danced on the breeze.

An amused mrrrow came from behind him. He turned towards the sound of crunching leaves to see a lithe, pale body emerge from the trees. Sandstorm. In this light she looked like a pale reflection of himself, her sandy coat a sheer contrast to his own fiery pelt. She looked like she'd just been laughing a second ago. Had she been watching him make a fool of himself? Firestar ducked his head sheepishly as she came closer.

"Hey, you," she purred, sitting down beside him. "What are you doing out here all by your lonesome?" A faint glimmer of hope shone for Firestar. Maybe she hadn't seen?

"Oh, nothing much," the tom said casually. "Just, you know, thinking." Sandstorm pretended to look astonished.

"You? Thinking?" she feigned surprise at the notion. Her eyes sparkled mischievously. "Looked more like it was playtime."

Drat. Firestar looked away and chuckled a bit to cover up his own embarrassment.

"Oh. You saw that?"

"Mmhm," she mewed, brushing her tail over his shoulder. "I can't really blame you. It's tempting." The ginger she-cat batted at a nearby leaf in illustration. They both laughed a little.

"No, I believe you. I guess everyone needs a break now and then. Especially you, Firestar," Sandstorm added emphatically, green eyes warm with understanding. "What were you thinking about, just out of curiousity?"

Firestar scooted a little closer to her, so that their flanks just touched. He sighed almost wistfully, looking out across the terrain and towards the setting sun.

"About…things," he said eventually, feeling the need to let his companion in on his thoughts. "Family, friends. My life in general." A smile was in his eyes as he looked at her. "It's all been quite the adventure."

"Quite," Sandstorm echoed with feeling. Firestar chuckled at that. They sat for a time in comfortable silence, watching as the day inevitably faded to night. Firestar glanced at his mate affectionately, admiring the way the sun touched her fur to a warm copper sheen. It was steadily growing colder, but he didn't mind too much. Perhaps later there would be time to simply curl up with her in the privacy of his den under the High Rock and share tongues. No interruptions, no apprentice-related emergencies…

"You know I love you, right?"

It took Firestar a few seconds to realize she'd spoken. He blinked at her in confusion. Sandstorm's face was earnest, and her eyes held a question in them, one as serious and as important as a question can be. The ginger tom returned her gaze, hoping she could see the answer just as clearly.

"Of course I do," he mewed tenderly. "How could I not? You were always there for me, Sandstorm. Through everything." He wanted her to know just how important she was to him. After Spottedleaf's death, Firestar had felt he'd never love again. How the bitter, petulant young apprentice who'd snubbed him when he first arrived had grown to become the love of his life was still something a mystery, but he knew that he loved Sandstorm deeply, and that her love in turn had kept him strong when he thought the burden of the prophecy might have been too much to bear.

"And if I had the choice, I'd do it all again. You're my world, Firestar." Sandstorm blinked sincerely at him, green eyes aglow with devotion. The clan leader, seeing the love in his mate's gaze, felt quite weak in the knees, and almost too moved to speak.

"Oh, Sandstorm…" he whispered, throat tight with emotion. It was then that the sun finally dropped below the boundary between earth and sky. Bright orange light spilled over the horizon and set Firestar's coat ablaze. He sat proud and tall, framed against the evening sky, with the crimson hue of his fur as alive and vibrant as though he himself had become the sun. Sandstorm stared at him in amazement.

"Wow…you really do look like you're on fire," the she-cat mewed in a hushed tone. Her eyes were wide as she took in the sight. Firestar tilted his head to the side, looking faintly amused.

"Well, you didn't think my name was just a coincidence?" he joked. Sandstorm came out of her reverie and flicked him with her tail affectionately. Firestar ducked away, laughing, before pressing up against her and resting his chin on top of her head. She sighed tenderly and closed her eyes, a soft rumbling growing in the base of her throat.

Firestar was content. Completely and utterly content. Never mind the hurdles he'd had to negotiate throughout his warrior life, or the coming challenges of his new leadership -- nor even the looming threat of a cold and hungry Leafbare. He'd made his choice long ago. He had followed that niggling little voice that said there had to be more to life than this, and found what he'd been looking for. He'd found friends, honour, excitement, heartbreak, and the love of his life. Perhaps it wasn't the fairy tale world he might have been expecting, but he took everything, the good and the bad, and appreciated it for what it was.

It was his life. And Sweet Mother of StarClan, he loved it.