An old story, but one I'm just now posting here. This was originally written as something of a challenge, "What if Suntop had been left behind?" and it morphed from there into something much more primal, I think. I like this story and I still intend to go back and finish it. Originally this was the first two sections.

Kings Redux: Part One

In his dreams, Suntop is always a cubling again, standing in the Palace of the High Ones. In his dreams, Suntop hears his own voice speak aloud the wish that he could tell the High Ones not to be afraid, that everything would be okay. In his dreams, Suntop sees Rayek take his innocent words and put them to a terrible purpose. In his dreams, Suntop sees his cubling self sneak out of the room of the Scroll of Colors, running to find his father, suddenly afraid of (for?) Rayek. He screams at his child-self to turn back, to stay in the Palace, to stay with his sister and to do something to stop Rayek. But he is a voiceless spirit in his dreams and Suntop stands outside the Palace when it vanishes, and all Suntop can see is the agony on Father's face. All he can feel is failure.

Suntop woke with a start, his body spasming with grief and the sobs he felt honor-bound to muffle within himself. No longer the cub he was, Suntop did not yet feel like an adult. He could not. His father was locked in grief for Mother, Ember, and Skywise, and Suntop could not replace them. Suntop was Chief's Cub, and all he had was the magic that had caused the whole mess in the first place.

An old tree stood in the forest, marked with a cut for every turn they had spent there. Suntop didn't know how many cuts there were. Too many for him to count. But Father counted them. Every day Father counted them. And every day Suntop felt that he failed his father a little more.

He wasn't Ember.

A gentle hand reached over within the space that was his own den and pulled him close to a maiden's heart. Lovemate. The Sending was an invitation to pour out his grief and his sorrow and his frustration at his uselessness. She gave so much to him, and so willingly. He imagined that her mother must hold his father in this same way when he woke from nightmares of his own.

Tyleet wasn't Ember either. But she'd never had to be.

Suntop was Chief's Cub.

***
Suntop sat in silent communion with Savah, thousands upon thousands of leagues away. It was the union of three gifts, his own magic, unmatched by anyone on this world of two moons save only Timmain, a piece of the Palace safe in Sorrow's End and crafted by a rockshaper gone with Rayek, and Rayek's own cub, the gifting of her mother for reasons of her own.

Venka was a surprise, and ultimately a welcome one. She kept the Black Snake away.

Another dream, Suntop?

Savah always knew when he'd had a dream. It was difficult, learning to use his powers when his teacher was so far away. Timmain was nearer, but Father needed Timmain more than he did. Yes, Savah. Somehow his anguish communicated itself and he could feel a wave of compassion from her spirit, enfolding him like his mother's arms.

What you seek is in your heart. Search your heart for your answers. She seemed to be trying to reach him from an even greater distance than the physical one between them.

She was right. If he was ever going to stop being a cub, he would have to find his own answers.

So he searched.

Entranced, he searched his heart as the sun rose and set again. Finally he blinked open his eyes to see Tyleet waiting for him, with a bowl of food beside her. She must have been to Aroree's cave, that was the only place where they would have a fire for the cooking of food for those who lacked appreciation for rarity.

Tyleet reached one hand out to gently brush away teardrops from his cheek. Her Sending was wordless, a concern and an incredible sense of love. He showed her the answer of his heart as he would have shown her the most beautiful flower in all the forest.

She saw, and understood, and smiled at him for having his own sort of courage. She'd never felt that he was less for not being his sister. You must tell Cutter.

He nodded.

***

One . . . two . . . three . . . four . . . five . . . six . . . seven . . . eight . . .

Cutter let his fingers run down the notched bark, feeling each and every cut as a wound in his soul.

Three eights and four . . . three eights and five . . . three eights and six . . .

He didn't know why he returned here, each day, to touch the mark of each passing turn and remember when he should forget. He was Chief, the Keeper of the Way, and he could not live it.

He had his son. The child-thief had not taken his son, just the daughter who would be chieftess, his lifemate, and his soul brother. High Ones, even looking at his son reminded him of all he had lost, all that had been stolen from him.

He didn't want to resent Suntop, but even looking at him hurt so much and Suntop would never be chief.

Eight eights times two . . . Eight eights times two and one . . .

Cutter heard the footsteps behind him, not quite Wolfrider-silent, but close. A tang on the breeze told him that it was his son, his magic-gifted son who would never be chief. He didn't want to resent him, but High Ones, sometimes it was hard. "What do you want, Suntop?" It came out as a growl.

Suntop hesitated. Countless turns of guilt and failure jeered at him from the notched tree. He wasn't his sister so what good was he? Suntop forced himself to turn away from that grief, comforted by the secret he carried, and had to tell.

"Father, we have to talk."

Something in Suntop's voice caused Cutter to turn and look at him, as if for the first time. He stood firm, not challenging, and yet, not cowed. His cub . . . wasn't a cub any longer. Cutter nodded to him, his feeling suddenly softer for some reason. "Very well, talk."

For a moment Suntop was stunned silent. He was here and had his father's attention and he didn't have the first clue of how to start. Then he took hold of the same courage that helped him leap into Winnowill's dark soul in search of Savah, took two steps forward and wrapped his arms around his father, putting their foreheads together, and showed him the wonderful, beautiful secret he had found within himself.

Love cannot be stolen. Those we love can never be taken from us; not by death, not by time, not by theft. Mother and Ember and Skywise are here, with us, in our hearts, because we love them and they love us. Your power is in your family and your family is with you, no matter what. Rayek has not done it; he will not do it. We live, we breathe, we hunt, we ARE. You and I will survive until their return. We WILL be with Mother, Skywise and Ember again. We will look into Rayek's eyes and we will see him punished for the harm he has caused. I swear it, Father. We will see him punished.

Now it was Cutter's turn to be stunned into silence. There is only truth in Sending and that truth flooded into his soul, painfully bright and yet warm, like healing sunlight on all the frozen hurts in his heart. Awkwardly he wrapped his arms around his son and held him close, knowing without knowing how he knew that Suntop had been just as badly hurt by Rayek's theft as he was.

And then, in the unbroken rapport, Cutter saw another truth that Suntop had not said. The Chief is the tribe and all these years Cutter had been a dead chief, and so the Wolfriders had been a dead tribe. He saw the thorny wall rising like a Green Mountain on this new land, and he shuddered in horror. If Cutter could not live, then the Wolfriders would become like the Gliders, living, but dead, and without cubs.

Cutter determined to live.

No, Suntop would never be chief, but he didn't have to be.

***
Cutter never went back to the Tree, and that night Suntop became Sunstream.