Disclaimer: Erin Hunter owns Warriors, not me.
I never asked for her to hate me. I never asked for him to love me. I never asked for him to mate with me; never asked to bear his kits.
I mated with Crowfeather one time, and lonely little Breezepaw came of it. I love Breezepaw more than life itself, more than Crowfeather, maybe even more than my own Clan. If it came down to his life and mine, I would sacrifice myself in less than a heartbeat. Breezepaw is my son, and yet I wish he had never been born, all because of Crowfeather.
Stupid, foolish tomcat; why couldn't he just leave me alone? Why couldn't he have spared my son, my Breezepaw, all the hurt?
My mind flashes back, one, two, four, eight, ten, twelve moons. Leaf-bare, green-leaf, leaf-fall.
I was standing with Crowfeather just outside the entrance to camp. The two of us were crouched beneath a bush. Rain drizzled down from the hazy sky, but the spiky leaves protected us. It was cold, but the mere touch of Crowfeather's thick gray fur made me warm. It had been a little more than a moon since the badger attack on ThunderClan. I was one of the few cats who didn't blame Crowfeather for running off with Leafpool. How could I? She was so beautiful, with her dainty white paws, black-striped pelt, and tree-sap amber eyes. How could Crowfeather resist her? I was nowhere near as beautiful as she was. Perhaps I was a tad bit biased-I had harbored-yes, I'll admit it-a long-time crush on the smoky gray tom, and I wasn't about to give it up; not now. Not while he was sitting very, very close to me, close enough to tell that he was interested in something other than simply sharing tongues.
I feel him shifting, his tail stretching, wrapping around mine like a hungry vine. A bubbly spasm ricochets within my stomach. I twist to face him.
"Crowfeather," I whisper, hoarse.
"What is it?"
His amber eyes are half-closed; it would appear as though he is acting on instinct alone.
"Wait," I blubber, and immediately curse myself. "What's going on?"
How could I have been so stupid? I knew within myself that this was the first, last, and only time Crowfeather would mate with me. Wasn't that what I wanted? Wasn't that what I dreamed about, night after night?
"What do you think is going on?" Crowfeather snapped ill-temperedly, his eyes flying open like wavelengths.
I sigh.
"I-I…"
Crowfeather cuts me off.
"Oh, just hush!" he moans. "Don't you know what I'm feeling? Don't you know what I'm going through?"
I inwardly roll my eyes. Oh, yeah, like every cat in WindClan had run away with some random medicine cat. Yeah. Everyone does that.
"Of course I do," I lie. "Of course I do."
"Then mate with me! Foxdung, Nightcloud! Don't you get it? Mating with you is the only thing that will make the pain go away."
I hesitate.
Finally, I manage to murmur a stuttering response.
"O-okay."
He smiles, and my heart lights on fire.
--
What I hadn't counted on was the fact that my first (and only) union with Crowfeather would result in my pregnancy.
My memories fast-forwarded two moons.
Contractions were rippling down my bulging sides. Pain lanced like a claw down my spine, as though it was trying to squeeze the very life out of me. It was, to say the least, horrifying.
I could see, out of the corner of my eye, a flash of white.
Where was Crowfeather? He had promised me he would be by my side when our kits were born, and, unless my body was imploding, I was pretty sure I was giving birth! Yowling in agony, I stretched my limbs forward, clawing at the dry moorland grass. Still I yowled, and out of the corner of my eye, I saw my fellow queen Whitetail dart out to the medicine cat's den. I lay, twitching with spasms, in wait. Whitetail's three kits had backed into the other side of the nursery, their eyes wide and still kit-blue. I hoped my yowling wasn't scaring them. Barkface was at my side suddenly, his paws full of borage and his face full of confidence.
"You're doing fine," he soothed me. "Just eat theses herbs."
Too weak to respond, I stretched out my neck and swallowed the bitter medicine. Almost instantly, my pain deteriorated. It certainly wasn't to say that the pain was gone. No, oh no; I could still feel it. And yet, everything seemed so… well, surreal. I had experienced pain worse than this in battle-in fact, my warrior naming ceremony had been postponed because of an injury I had sustained in a fight with a badger. It was, to be honest, the pain in my heart that caused me to yowl like I was being torn from the inside out. Perhaps I was being torn apart. Crowfeather…
He had promised.
If he'd said it once he'd mewed it a million times-he would be by my side when our kits were born.
Well, here I was-in horrible pain, experiencing the biggest moment in my life since he had mated with me, and yet it seemed Crowfeather wouldn't be beside me as I weathered my own storm. Did he even care about me? Did his constant promises mean nothing?
I weakly glance up at Barkface. His muddy amber eyes are narrowed in intense concentration, and his paws are sweeping down my sides gently. My mouth opens and closes but nothing comes out but a shallow gasp. Finally:
"B-Barkface?"
His eyes shift almost infinitesimally in my direction.
Almost afraid to ask, I mew in a pitiful voice that I instantly hate, "Wh-where's Crow.." I swallow down raw pain. "Crowfeather?"
Barkface seems to understand instantly. His eyes grow dark with my own hurt.
"He…left. Right after Whitetail came to get me."
My heart shreds into tinier pieces. Crowfeather left? He left, even when he knew I was giving birth? He had to know, had to, because I was the only queen in the nursery that was pregnant; the only cat that was yowling like a ancient LeopardClan cat charging into battle. He left me, left me when I needed him the most. Why? Why did he leave?
Was he scared? Thoughts erupt in my mind, as though they could connect with Crowfeather and bring him back.
Please, Crowfeather-don't be afraid! There's nothing to be afraid of, whatever happens, I'll still love you.
But as the word "love" popped into my thread of thoughts, I realized what had happened.
Crowfeather…. He didn't love me.
--
"Um, Nightcloud?" Barkface's uneasy voice woke me from the veil of horror I had hidden myself in.
I said nothing in reply.
"Nightcloud?"
I close my eyes.
"Nightcloud," Barkface says again. "There's a problem."
I moan inwardly as I slowly open my eyes. A small, smoky gray blob of fur is mewing like some shrew with its tail caught in a trap. My sight is hazy at first, and I can't tell what it is. I finally realize that it's a small, fluffy kit, and my broken heart is filled with love. I gasp breathlessly and lick his wet, bloodied head. I seem to fall into a trance as I do so, and, despite Barkface's multiple calls to me, I just can't seem to answer. All that matters is that my new son is free and clean.
When all the birth has been licked away from him, I turn to face Barkface. His eyes seem sad and hopeless, and I can't help but wonder what was wrong with him.
Look at him, Barkface! I wanted to shout. Look at my beautiful son! What could possibly be wrong?
It's then that my yellow eyes fall to his paws. Three more bundles of fur are tucked there like pieces of fresh-kill.
More kits! How wonderful!
But then I realized they weren't moving, weren't mewling with hunger.
When Barkface finally spoke, his voice was hushed.
"I'm so sorry, Nightcloud. They were stillborn"
--
When my son, newly named Breezekit, had fallen asleep, I exited the nursery, my three beautiful daughters dangling from my mouth. I walked with them for a long time, walked as my mouth began to ache with their weight, and still I did not stop.
I traveled over hills and forests; splashed across bubbling streams.
My heart was slowly solidifying into a knot of pain and desperation. Everything about me hurt-my head, my pads, my soul. When my paws finally reached the top of a hill on the edge of our territory, I knew I had found the spot. I dug into the cold, hard earth-dug for hours, tearing my claws on rocks and working til my bones felt like they were going to snap off.
Three small graves, newly dug. Three new kits, never to breathe.
I picked them up one by one. Before I lay each cold, small body into the dirt, I took one last moment to say my first hello and my last goodbye.
The first to go in was a medium sized silver she-cat with a striped tail. Her fur was long and smooth, and her ears were perfectly shaped. She would have been quite a beauty, had she have lived long enough.
"Don't worry," I hushed her, as if she could actually hear me, "You won't go to StarClan without a name. I will call you Lakekit, for the beautiful lake you will never see. Go swiftly, my daughter."
I nosed her into the grave.
The second kit was a dark smoky gray. Her resemblance to Crowfeather was almost unnatural, and for a moment I felt anger.
But then I realized this wasn't Crowfeather-this was my kit. She had never done anything to hurt me, except to die. And that wasn't her fault.
It…it was mine.
If I hadn't been so upset over Crowfeather, maybe she could have survived. Maybe all my kits could have survived. I had been so foolish I had forgotten what mattered most-the lives of my children.
Oh, StarClan, why them? Couldn't you have taken me instead? Take me now; bring my kits back.
"I'm so sorry, little warrior," I whispered into her ear, and nuzzled her. "Please-don't hate me. It's all my fault, Whisperkit."
The name seemed to have come out of nowhere, and yet it suited her perfectly.
For the sounds she will never hear.
StarClan, accept them. I've made a horrible mistake and when you take me, don't let me amongst your ranks. I don't deserve you, but-just-please. They've made no mistake.
I watch Whisperkit as she falls into her final resting place. The last to be put to rest was the smallest. She looked like me-short furred, with a scrappy tail and long legs.
"You would have made a fine warrior one day, little one," I murmured at her. "I will call you Flowerkit, for the beautiful moorland daisies."
And finally, my last kit's cold body slid into the darkness of her grave.
--
I didn't return to the WindClan camp that night. No; I spent the midnight hours sitting vigil for my three daughters. After I had scraped dirt over their bodies, I settled down against the ground. The misery that nestled into my heart that night was unbearable. My silver beauties-my precious bundles-my daughters-they had never smelled the scent of rain on the wind; never seen the big, blue sky stretching on for eternity; had never heard the joyous chirping of a nightingale.
And they never would.
Did StarClan accept cats that had never seen? Did they accept cats that had never known them?
I wasn't sure that they did.
They couldn't. They were cold-hearted enough to take my kits instead of me-what would stop them from not accepting them?
Why did this all happen to me? What had I done?
Was it because they thought I had taken Crowfeather from Leafpool?
Is that it?! I screamed silently in my head.
I had heard Barkface speak of Leafpool several times. The reverence in his voice-it was unbelievable.
He was so much older than she was-he had been an experienced medicine cat when Leafpool's kittypet father had first come to the forest! And yet-he… he admired her.
Raw rage and fury tore through my body like a fox's fangs. It wasn't fair!
It wasn't right for StarClan to favor any cat over any other.
And yet you do! I wanted to yowl. You do hold other cats in higher regard.
You love Leafpool more than you love me! Just because she's the daughter of the sacred Firestar, just because she's Squirrelflight the journey-cat's sister!
And it's not just you! Nightcloud continued in her silent raving. It's everyone! Her Clan, all groveling in front of her. And…and…
Crowfeather.
You couldn't even let me have the love of a tom, could you?!
She ran off with Crowfeather, and yet I'm the one being punished!
I couldn't take it anymore. Somehow, I rose from the ground, opened my maw, and screamed.
All my anger, all my remorse, all my jealousy was released in that one caterwaul. I felt the weight rise off of my shoulders to be replaced by a warm wind. And just as I could almost feel myself rising up into the air, sadness sunk back onto me like a falling branch. I fell to the ground, overwhelming anguish and grief wracking my body.
My kits! My kits! My kits, my kits, my kits…
I shuddered with horror as I pressed my nose to the ground in loss.
Finally, exhausted from screaming and crying and mourning, I fell into an uneasy sleep.
--
I was standing over Lakekit, Whipserkit, and Flowerkit's graves. A wind ruffled my fur gently, and wildflowers swayed in the distance. Yet-things were not the same. Everything seemed sharper somehow-every drop of dew on every blade of grass seemed brighter, and I could almost see the wind as it rustled over the moor-even though that made no sense.
Suddenly, the air in front of me seemed to shimmer, and Tallstar, of all cats, appeared in front of me.
I had to be dreaming.
Tallstar smiled. It was the confident smile of a leader-and the smile he knew I had loved so much when he lived.
"Tallstar," I gasped, and bowed my head.
"Peace, young one," Tallstar murmured into my ear.
My awe was such that I didn't understand what he meant-and then I remembered.
StarClan had taken my daughters.
I shrank away from the black and white leader's touch. He was part of this.
"Please, don't," Tallstar said.
His voice was both firm and pleading. I hesitated.
"I-we don't want to hurt you."
"But you did," I whispered, almost inaudibly. "You did hurt me. So much."
"I know," he said gently, sweeping his long tail over my back. "But you have to stop grieving."
Raw rage came shattering across my spine. He dared to tell me to stop missing my children? To stop loving them?
"No," he said, as though he could read my mind. "You'll never stop loving your kits, and no cat would ever ask you to. But Nightcloud," he looked away, "There's another kit that's still alive that needs that love."
And then I remembered-I still had a son.
Breezekit-spared by StarClan.
Tallstar smiled once more, and disappeared.
And as I slowly regained consciousness, I could've sworn I heard three small voices whispering in my ear, "It's not your fault."
--
If I told you that I raced back to camp on winged paws, I'd be lying. No, despite my newfound hope, I still was sad. My kits had died, for StarClan's sake!
And yet…
They lived, in my heart and in StarClan. And Breezekit-I would be there for him, no matter what. He would not die-he would live a long life as a noble warrior-he would grow up and maybe even lead the Clan someday.
I could live without Crowfeather's love; I could live without my three daughters-I could live, so long as Breezekit was happy.
As I entered the camp, I was surprised to see everything was, well, normal.
Tornear and Ashfoot were sharing a rabbit while Onestar conversed with Barkface just outside the medicine cat den. Morningflower was sunning herself on a rock, her tortoiseshell pelt lined with silver hair. Despite all that had happened, I found myself grinning almost giddily-I was home.
I brushed into the nursery, several burrs snagging against my dark pelt. Whitetail looked up to stare at me incredulously, but I hardly felt her scorching gaze. My eyes were all for the tiny, mewling gray kit at her side. My heart felt warm with my love for him; for my Breezekit.
I bent over and picked him up by the scruff. I carried him over to a private corner in the nursery, where I let him suckle. When he was finally done, he turned his head up, as though to look at me through his unopened eyes and say "I missed you!"
He mewed plaintively, his tiny muzzle white with my rich milk, and pink gums showing through. His teeth were small and sharp. He'd be a fine warrior.
And, in that moment, I knew I had never been so proud.
--
So now I watch Breezekit (now Breezepaw) every day. He's apprenticed to Whitetail-the very queen who cared for him while I buried his sisters. I think he has a thing going for her kit, Heatherpaw. Some cats in the Clan think he's arrogant-but I don't mind. He's still my son, and I couldn't be more proud of him-especially since he recently saved three of our Clan's kits. His muscles grow stronger and leaner daily. Soon, my young son will be a warrior.
And yet-he needs a father.
Crowfeather has never been there for him, no matter what Breezepaw does. Breezepaw would give up his place in StarClan if it meant his father would appreciate him. Over the moons, I've let my fury with Crowfeather grow-he only mated with me that night because he wanted to-not because he loved me. I have caused Breezepaw a world of pain, and it's all because of him.
So Leafpool? Don't hate me because I "took" Crowfeather from you. It's your own fault anyway for letting him go-and for that, I respect you. You did what I never could-but then you had to want him back.
But please. I've walked through miles of pain just for Crowfeather, and for my son. So don't hate me.
Don't judge me.
Because you don't know what I've been through.
I hope you guys enjoyed this lil' oneshot! It took a long time to finish-although I'm not sure why. Reviews and concrit would be appreciated. :)
If you wanna talk some more, come join us at The Miscellany!
I'm out
MushroomT