Disclaimer: I don't own Warriors.
I lay, panting and breathless, in a bloody heap. I could see the last flash of his black tipped tail disappearing into the ferns, and I felt a pang of relief that Barley was, at last, gone. My fur felt disgusting and grimy as I painfully turned around to lick at it. More accurately, I felt disgusting and grimy, like a log of filth, used as a plaything by some barnyard hick cat that didn't know a mouse from a shrew.
He was probably proud of himself, proud that he had, yet again, successfully raped me. This was, at least, the third time he had done this to me, and, even if I could have proven what he had done to me, what punishment could Bluestar inflict upon him? She couldn't exile him, and I knew her well enough that she would not kill Barley. That would be unjust. Well, it might not be to some cats- but to Bluestar- yes. Yes, it would be wrong.
My body felt completely stiff as I tried to heave myself up from where I lay. My back legs- where I felt the most pain- however, did not comply, and I fell flat on my face, dirt flying up my nose. I lay there, splattered like a dead butterfly, for hours. When the ferns next to me finally twitched, I thought it was Barley, returning for more abuse. But then a huge, dark tabby shape stepped out of the fronds. Tigerclaw. His amber eyes were soft as he stared down at me.
"Oh, you poor thing," he whispered to me, and sat down, "What happened to you? Who did this?"
He licked my ear gently. Normally I would have shrunk away from the touch of a tom, but something about him made me feel warm inside, and wanted.
"Barley," I moaned, "He-he…"
I couldn't say it. I couldn't admit my shame.
"Shh," Tigerclaw hushed me, "I know. I understand."
He nosed me to my paws, and let me lean on his broad shoulders as he guided me back to camp.
Thank you, Tigerclaw, I thought, my savior.
??
Within a few weeks, I noticed a change in myself. I was thirsty and hungry all the time, but I felt so tired and sluggish that I just couldn't bring myself to hunt. I could barely even slog my way through border patrols, and every cat was noticing. Tigerclaw especially was concerned. He knew what might be going on. He was the only cat that knew about Barley. Another week passed, and my whole body was beginning to feel tender and sore, kind of achy in a weird way. Then came a dawn where I decided that I had to see Spottedleaf. It was the day of a Gathering- and she was busy. Her den smelled like thyme and goldenrod, and her tortoiseshell pelt blended right in with all the flowers and herbs.
"What is it, Goldenflower?" she asked, somewhat impatiently.
"I'm not well," I explained briefly.
"Obviously," Spottedleaf said dryly as she wrapped up a bundle of traveling herbs.
"How can you tell?" I asked, bewildered.
"Well, for one thing," Spottedleaf said, a bit more calmly, "You've been dragging yourself around camp like a slug. For another thing, kit-scent is rolling off you in droves."
"What?" I gasped, although I already knew exactly what she meant.
"You're expecting kits, you mouse-brain!" Spottedleaf laughed, tossing her head back.
"Kits!" I wheezed, and then ran out of her den.
"Tigerclaw will be ecstatic!" she called after me.
Tigerclaw? She thought these were Tigerclaw's kits?
No, much as I would have loved for these kits to be Tigerclaw's, they were not. They were Barley's. I wanted to die.
??
I was lying in the nursery, my tail curved over my bulging belly. Tigerclaw was woven around me like a flower bends toward the light- he the flower and I the sun. His thick fur kept me warm, and also made me sleepy. Tigerclaw had always been so diligent in his caring for me- he was, after all my kits' "father."
Even though the kits within me were not his, Tigerclaw treated me like they were. We were, by that time, mates- although with my increased size it was rather difficult to partake in the activity that most mates do. But Tigerclaw was patient. He would wait for me to give birth, he would wait for me to become a warrior again, StarClan, he would wait until when I gave him the okay to go ahead. I loved him so much. He always took time for me- even with RiverClan beginning to hunt on our territory- Sunningrocks- and his extra duties as a senior warrior. I looked at my peacefully sleeping denmate. Frostfur had recently joined me in the queens' den- pregnant with her first litter. I had a suspicion the father was Lionheart- he was always padding after her, like a dog pads after a Twoleg. She was my only fellow queen- although I had been informed by Tigerclaw that Darkstripe and Brindleface were trying to have a litter.
Suddenly, a ripple passed down my side. Tigerclaw lifted his head from where it was resting, gazing at me through confused amber eyes. A moment later, another contraction rushed through me- this time it was more painful than surprising.
"Spottedleaf," I gasped.
Tigerclaw nodded frantically as he turned and raced out of the den. I waited in agony for what seemed like a moon, contractions rippling down my sides like waves. The kits were coming.
??
The birth was long, hard, and painful. Spottedleaf did all she could for me, supplying me with plenty of borage and moss, from which I drank. Tigerclaw was at my side the whole way through, meowing what I believed to be fevered encouragement, although I couldn't really tell. My mind felt cloudy, and all I could focus on was pushing the kits out of me. When it was all over, Spottedleaf left Tigerclaw, the "father," and me alone with the kits. We licked the birth off of the little scraps gently, and Tigerclaw purred throatily.
"They're beautiful," he told me, and then licked my ear the same way he had right after Barley had raped me.
They were beautiful, I realized, looking down on my two kits.
One was a pale ginger color, just like me. She was very small, so I curled my tail around her so she could get nice and warm. The other was a tom, and his likeness to Barley frightened me. He was big for a newborn kit, and I could see as well as any cat that he would have a stocky build with huge muscles. Just like Barley. He lifted his head and let out a strong, plaintive meow. Tigerclaw glanced down at his adopted son with pride. I guided the two kits to my belly with my tail. The black and white tom latched on and began to suckle hungrily, but the ginger she-cat turned and stumbled away. Tigerclaw leaned over nervously and nudged her back toward me. She mewed in a high pitched voice, shuddered once, and then fell on her side. She did not move again.
We sat there in stunned silence, staring at my first kit to be born, my first daughter to be born, and also my first daughter to die. I could hear Tigerclaw breathing rapidly, and as if he was having a hard time. Frostfur was deathly still in the corner, gazing at my kit with eyes glazed with terror.
I was the cat to break the silence.
"It's okay," I meowed to Frostfur, nodding at her solemnly, "It won't happen to you."
Tigerclaw dipped his head to me. I nodded to him. He answered my unspoken command by leaning over and picking up my daughter. He pressed out of the nursery, the kit dangling from his jaws and his tail dragging. I knew I would never see her again, and it made my heart fill with sadness.
??
"What should we call the tom kit?" Tigerclaw asked me gently after he returned from burying my ginger beauty.
"Swiftkit," I said firmly, "Perhaps his name shall give his sister quick deliverance to StarClan."
Tigerclaw nodded.
"Swiftkit."
??
When I saw that lump of foxdung, Barley, for the first time after he raped Goldenflower, I thought I was going to kill him. Bluestar, Firepaw, Graypaw, Ravenpaw and I were on our way back from the Moonstone. Bluestar was chastising me for being unfriendly to Barley- but that old fool of a leader doesn't know. She doesn't know how Barley hurt her, she doesn't understand that he raped my precious, beautiful she-cat. How I'd love to kill Bluestar and that fuddy-duddy deputy of hers, Lionheart- then I'd lead ThunderClan. I'd also snuff out that kittypet, Firepaw's life force, along with Ravenpaw's and Graypaw's. They knew too much.
I'd make Darkstripe my deputy. I had invested much faith into that slinky old tom, and I was certain that he was my myrmidon. He was so clueless, hanging onto every single word that dripped from my tongue, like it was honey, or a succulent piece of fresh-kill. But as much as I would have loved to have killed Bluestar and those apprentices as soon as we returned to camp, I knew I couldn't. I didn't have enough followers. But someday soon, I'd lead an uprising. Those pitiful, half-trained apprentices and Bluestar would be shaking in their own skin.
My neck prickled infuriatingly, and I spun around. I stood face to face with Barley. Bluestar stood beside him. I could tell she was itching to leave, but I wasn't quite ready. I glared into Barley's eyes, amber meeting amber. He gazed back at me dully, almost unintelligently, and I sneered at him.
Old, hick barn cat! I thought gloriously, You stay away from my mate!
Then a sudden understanding passed into his eyes. He took a sudden step back, the fur on his tail bristling. A flash of fear had crept into Barley's amber orbs. He knew that I had realized what he did.
That's right, I thought, Stay away from my queen. My golden flower.
??
It was bitterly cold, but I was warm. Tigerclaw and I were laying out on Sunningrocks, beneath a shadowed moon. Silverpelt, however, still gleamed brightly, and it shone down on us merrily, turning Tigerclaw's pelt a smoky dark brown. The tips of his claws were poking out, and they were tinted silver. His pelt was pressed up against mine, and I was wreathed in his scent. I loved his scent- it was musky, and smelled like all things wild and the wind that whispered through the trees.
"I love you," he whispered in my ear.
His words sent chills down my spine. I shivered, but not with cold.
"I-" I mumbled, "I love you too."
He licked my ear in the way that I so loved, and then wound around me. Tigerclaw twined his tail with mine, and held me in a tight embrace. I nestled down underneath his huge chest and listened to his strong heartbeat.
Lub dub. Lub dub. Lub dub.
He purred in reply. I licked his nose playfully, and he pressed himself closer to me. We mated that same night, beneath the crisp, starry skies. It was nothing like my experience with Barley. Tigerclaw wasn't precisely gentle, but the desire for love to be made was mutual, and I closed my eyes and enjoyed every moment of our union. I imagined the scene we must have made. The moonlight, filtering down on the Sunningrocks, turning them to silver. The river lapping at the banks of the stone, making soft rushing sounds. Trees that stretched like groping paws, caressing the air. It was- perfect. It was bliss.
When I began experiencing the same symptoms I had after Barley had raped me, I smiled. I welcomed the sluggish feeling, the hunger and thirst. Swiftpaw had recently been apprenticed, along with Frostfur's two kits, Cinderpaw and Brackenpaw. The Clan already had many queens- Frostfur was still nursing her one moon old litter, Speckletail had young Snowkit, and Brindleface would give birth to Darkstripe's kits any dawn. But I knew the Clan would welcome my kits. These kits were Tigerclaw's. And I knew within my heart that they would grow to be some of the strongest warriors the forest had ever seen. I knew that anything that had been produced by Tigerclaw and me would be beautiful. They would be a creature personified of the feeling Tigerclaw had given me when we mated.
They would be golden.
Yeah, yeah, I know. GoldenxBarley, what the heck? But it's mentioned that Swiftpaw was only Brambleclaw and Tanwypelt's half brother, and thus Tigerstar was not his father. The only cat that looked a little like Swiftpaw was Darkstripe, and we all know he's Brindle's boy. So, I thought if Barley raped Goldenflower, it would give her an opening to find someone to love. Tigerstar, duh! And Swiftpaw looks JUST LIKE BARLEY. And I found Barley perverted while reading Warrior's Return. Did anyone else see him eyeing Millie's butt? Reread the part with Barley and Ravenpaw. You'll see it. And before I sign off, let me say this. In my world, DarkxBrindle makes Ash and Fern. Most everyone else thinks that too, so don't complain to me about how Whitestorm is Brindleface's mate, m'kay? We all know it's Darkstripe.
Later, guys!.
MushroomT