Disclaimer: Don't own it. Still.
Chapter 13: Birchfrost's Secret
Training progressed well for Oakpaw and me. The reddish brown tom proved to be responsible, reliable, and eager to learn anything I threw at him. Not quite being the hyperactive, fidgety apprentice I'd first thought him to be, Oakpaw's favorite place was the river. On questioned why, he simply told me, "It's quiet and peaceful. It gives me space to think." Solemn words for such a young cat, maybe, but Oakpaw was full of surprises and hidden wisdom.
For example, I'd vigorously worked with him on a particular fighting move that had been a favorite of Thistlefoot's. It involved sliding under your opponent's belly when you were pinned down, and required a precise amount of twisting and perfect timing. Several attempts later, we had made no progress at it. Much to my later mortification, I stomped around the clearing, cursing StarClan under my breath, while Oakpaw merely sat, looking thoughtful.
After a few moments, he raised his voice hesistantly. "Uh, Forestcloud....what if we tried it this way?" I inquired what that way might be, and he pointed out the rocky terrain we were practicing on. If we moved to a grassier area, he reasoned, it would be easier for him to slip under me. Then, later, when he had mastered the act, we could try it on tougher ground.
Simple as it seemed, Oakpaw's method actually did the job. The next day he was slipping and sliding everywhere, catching me by surprise and yanking (accidentally, of course) a few small clumps of fur off my back. It was that kind of straightforward thinking that helped his skill steadily increase.
Despite the fact that Oakpaw's training was going so well, I felt something was amiss in my life. Remarkably, for once it was not really Crookedjaw. The pale tabby tom was doing well in the eyes of the Clan, rapidly gaining respect among the senior warriors. Only seldom did he get a dubious gleam in his eye when he glanced at me. Even better, he confided in me his desire that Thrushstar would choose him as a mentor for one of Brackentail's kits, who were almost ready to leave the nursery. I shared in his hope, partly because I'd felt sort of guilty having an apprentice while he did not. Anyone with eyes could tell that Crookedjaw was a higher qualified mentor than me; it was just dumb luck that placed Oakpaw in my care.
No, Crookedjaw was not worrying me. Neither was Larchsting, however insufferable she had become since joining the nursery. The lovely queen never failed to give me a sneer as she paraded around camp, complaining loudly about the heat and lack of prey she was receiving. She got so horrible that I even felt sorry for Aspenfur, the prospective father. He spent most of his days running petty errands for his irritable mate. Birchfrost would have laughed to see the pathetic look on his face when he heard Larchsting's whiny meow.
Ah, yes. That was what was missing in my cheery life. Birchfrost.
Sharing tongues; patrols; hunting; I barely saw her at all. Was she was too busy, or only angry that I'd gotten an apprentice before her? Neither option seemed characteristic of my best friend. She had vanished when the first rays of sunlight peeked through the roof of the warriors' den, and on most days, I wouldn't get close to her until she flopped down on her nest, supposedly exhausted. Even then, when I tried to speak to her, she mumbled and rolled over to face the wall. During the day, between training Oakpaw and regular warrior duties, my hurt and puzzlement didn't occupy my mind as much. However, when I settled into my nest for the night and gazed at her sleeping form across the way, my bafflement gnawed away at me.
Following an almost sleepless night wondering what was going on, I decided to take some action. Oakpaw informed me that he felt a bit tired, so I assured him we would only do simple, light lessons today; scent-identifying would suffice. We trotted to the bridge that crossed over the river; RiverClan's only means of travel to Fourtrees. Birchfrost repeatedly let me know that this was her favorite place in the entire territory, because from here you could see the river wind into the enormous falls. Thus, I had good reason (or so I hoped) to keep an eye out for her here.
Oakpaw proceeded to sniff every inch of the bridge and edge of the river, calling out all the different scents he found, but I barely listened. My eyes were straining for any sign of my friend, and I went as far as the beginning of the bridge, peering out into the distance. When I spotted a familiar brown shape moving down the path, I silently congratulated myself for cornering her at last. Peculiarly, though, another figure was at her side, and for some reason this made me instantly suspicious. I motioned for Oakpaw to hide behind a large boulder not far away; naturally, he was confused, but the look on my face must have been enough, because he scampered there without protest. As soon as Birchfrost and her companion were close enough to see (or, if I was honest with myself, to eavesdrop on), I joined my apprentice behind the speckled gray mass.
Birchfrost spoke first, her voice breathless with joy. "That was amazing. Your territory is so beautiful....not like I imagined."
"Yeah, well, all the other Clans think of us as 'dark' and 'evil', so that's what they imagine our home to be like." The reply belonged to an unfamiliar voice, one that sounded shy and rather youthful. Nevertheless, I didn't like the familiar way he spoke the next sentence to my friend. "But I wanted to make sure you knew differently."
The subsequent laugh from Birchfrost was odd as well: sweet and coy, as if she was immensely pleased by his tone. "I'll have to show you my territory next time."
"We won't get caught?"
"Has that ever stopped us before?" A strange silence followed Birchfrost's tender words, and I couldn't restrain my curiosity any more. Craning my head slightly over the rock, I gasped. My friend, the one who had promised to be loyal to her Clan no matter what, was grossly entwined with a skinny, scruffy black tom. They were purring so forcefully that even Oakpaw, whose eyes were shielded from the sight, cringed. If all this wasn't enough, the whistling wind carried a putrid smell to my nose. The filthy tom stank---of ShadowClan.
Hissing, I launched myself over the rock and landed with a thud in front of the pair. Both withdrew from their embrace; Birchfrost's reflexively unsheathed her claws, growling, while the tom shrank back fearfully. Oakpaw sprang out, boldly spitting in the faces of the traitors. My eyes were narrowed to slits, but when Birchfrost realized who I was, she relaxed and put away her claws. Her "friend" didn't share her faith in me; he pressed himself closer to her, glaring at Oakpaw and me.
"It's okay, Nightpelt," Birchfrost meowed soothingly, keeping her eyes locked on me. "It's just my friend, Forestcloud, and her apprentice Oakpaw."
"I wouldn't ease up your defenses so quickly," I snarled, raising an unsheathed paw. "Traitor."
Unbelievably, the brown tabby warrior laughed. "Forestcloud, I'm not sharing any Clan secrets with Nightpelt. Heck, I don't even know any. We're not plotting anything. I'm not a traitor." As she calmly spoke her defenses, she padded up to me and gently lowered my paw. Staring straight into my eyes, she murmured, "You believe me, don't you?"
At that moment I knew she was telling the truth. My breathing slowed to an ordinary rate, and I let my fur fall back into its normal position. In spite of that, my apprentice wasn't convinced. Daringly, he flattened his ears and crept towards the one called Nightpelt. "That doesn't explain why you're out here with him." Poor Oakpaw. He was so innocent in the ways of the world. I could clearly tell what was going on here, although I couldn't begin to understand why, when, or how it occurred. However, I wouldn't give them the relief of having me explain it to Oakpaw.
I gazed at Birchfrost expectantly, and she sighed heavily. "Well....Nightpelt and I are in love."
The small statement blew Oakpaw away. "B-b-but he's from Sh-sh-sh-shadowClan!" he stammered, backing up at fast as he could. His bewildered eyes flickered from Birchfrost, to Nightpelt, and back to Birchfrost again. "That's against the warrior code!"
"Oakpaw, I think you'd better go back to camp." Lowering my eyes so they could directly meet his, I continued in a deeply grave tone, "Birchfrost is my best friend, and I know what she has done is wrong, but you must never, ever tell anyone about what happened today. It will be fixed soon, don't worry, but in the meantime you must keep your mouth shut. It would mean a lot to me."
It was obvious that Oakpaw wasn't entirely convinced, but the dedication and obedience that he strived to give me won him over. Never again would he be convinced of Birchfrost's loyalty, but I knew he would trust me with his life, no matter what. Finally nodding briefly, Oakpaw darted away, leaving the confrontation business to me.
No words were wasted by me. "How could you, Birchfrost? How did this happen?"
"Let me explain. Remember that ShadowClan cat that warned us of the battle, the one where ThunderClan and WindClan attacked in a combined force? Nightpelt was that cat, don't you recall?"
"Then aren't you a bit old for her--even though you sound like a two-moon old kit?" I asked Nightpelt nastily, glowering at the tom. He seemed to have recovered some of his pride and courage, now that he knew we weren't enemies. Entirely enemies, that is. Arrogance smothered his face; he thought he was too good to answer me, did he?
Birchfrost stepped between us, giving me one of her looks. "Forestcloud, Nightpelt was barely a warrior then. But it doesn't matter. Shortly before you and I became warriors, I met him at a Gathering. We got to talking, and....well, we have a lot in common." Disregarding my contemptuous snort, she added, "We've been meeting in secret for a while, but I didn't tell you because I knew you would react like this."
"What am I supposed to say? 'Congratulations'? 'I'm so happy for you'? Birchfrost, even my apprentice knows what you're doing is dishonorable!" Shaking my head, I tried a different tactic. "What would Thrushstar do if he knew? Just imagine Crookedjaw's face....and StarClan forbid your mother catches wind of this...."
Judging from her widened eyes, these possibilities hadn't crossed her mind. "You're not going to tell them, are you?"
"She better not," Nightpelt growled, speaking for the first time. "I'll flay her if she tries." To prove his point, he flexed his claws in a menacing manner. Good. I was itching to tear him to shreds.
"Nightpelt, stop." Birchfrost turned her pleading brown eyes to me once more. "Please, Forestcloud, you mustn't tell anyone. I won't stop seeing him anyway, since I can't live without him." She lifted her chin, gathering what must be the last of her pride. "I'll run away to ShadowClan if you breathe a single word." I almost laughed at the worried expression on her beloved mate's face when he heard the ultimatum. Birchfrost probably didn't have much to back her up on that threat.
Still, I couldn't stand the prospect of Birchfrost sentenced to a miserable existence. "Okay. For now, I'll keep quiet. But if this," I added warningly, gesturing towards the two of them, "gets beyond....whatever you're doing, I will tell Thrushstar, make no mistake."
Birchfrost broke out in a series of relieved purrs. "You won't have to worry about that. Nightpelt isn't going to weasel any 'secrets' out of me, no matter how he begs."
"I'm going back to camp," I meowed. "Do you want to come?"
"I suppose." Somewhat reluctant to leave, Birchfrost stretched forward and tenderly touched noses with Nightpelt. He whispered something in her ear, and she nodded fervently. I made an impatient humming noise, and they broke apart. Dipping his head slightly to me, the ShadowClan warrior whisked back towards his own territory.
My friend and I walked in silence most of the way, each of us brooding in her own thoughts. We didn't run into any of our Clan mates, which I was grateful for, because at the moment I wasn't quite sure what I was going to say to any of them. I was afraid that I would blurt out Birchfrost's secret to the first warrior I ran into. My imagination had to manufacture what was going on in my friend's mind, although I wasn't all that sure I wanted to peek inside that particular place. Strangely, at certain intervals Birchfrost would halt and cry out, as if some discomfort had suddenly come over her. When I questioned what pained her, she waved my concerns away.
"I've had this awful stomach ache for about a moon now. It's nothing, really. I'll be fine one minute, and the next I double over and want to vomit. But I recover quickly, and everything is normal again."
"That doesn't sound like 'nothing' to me," I said. "Did you see Brambleberry about it?"
Her nose wrinkled distastefully, so much so she looked like the old Birchfrost again. "The last thing I want is Brambleberry stuffing a bunch of herbs down my throat. Seriously, I'm all right."
For all that, I still forced her to walk (well, it was mostly me pushing her) to the medicine cat den. As soon as I was sure Mudfur, who had recently received his medicine cat name, was inspecting her thoroughly, I turned around and found Crookedjaw practically gasping with exhilaration.
"Whoa, slow down," I laughed, padding past him. "What's the hurry all about?" The fur on his pelt was glossy and neatly groomed; it seemed like he'd been washing himself for hours.
The pale tabby warrior trotted next to me, purring strongly. "Thrushstar informed me this morning: I'm going to be Graykit's mentor!"
"That's wonderful! We can train together at last--just like when we were apprentices!" I was truly delighted that Crookedjaw had been awarded this honor at last. It would certainly keep his mind off unnecessary advances towards me and vanquish the awkward silences that sometimes invaded our conversations.
Terrible irony struck me at that moment. We ended up at the entrance of the empty warriors' den. A suspicious light flickered in Crookedjaw's amber eyes as he loomed over me. I felt very self-concious, shy, and....something else. Something absolutely unknown to me, something I couldn't place an explicit definition on. I couldn't tear my eyes away from his, so I mumbled a few words that appeared sensible to my mind but that my heart abhorred.
"Crookedjaw, I can't. I'm sorry."
Deputies can't have mates.
Leaders can't have kits.
Cats in power can't fall in love.
"Please."
When he was gone, I crumpled. I collapsed. I buried my face in the moist moss of my nest. I didn't come out for the apprentice ceremony, which was combined with Loudpaw's warrior ceremony. So I was doubly horrible: disgracing the innocent kits and my apprentice friend. Then, though, I didn't care. All I could see was Crookedjaw's crushed face and hollow eyes. Not even when Birchfrost bounded in, squealing with delight, did I move from my spot of agony.
"Forestcloud, you'll never guess what Brambleberry told me! I'm going to have kits! It's been a few moons now, but I didn't know, so they will be born quite soon. I'll have move into the nursery with grumpy old Larchsting! Oh, Forestcloud, isn't it--Forestcloud? Forestcloud? Oh, Forestcloud...."
As I choked out the whole encounter, she curled around me and groomed my fur gently, as if I was one of the kits she was going to bear. Soon enough, her soothing voice calmed my whimpering and lulled me to sleep.
Before I closed my eyes, I whispered, "I'm an awful warrior."
Birchfrost laughed in spite of my serious tone. "Everything will be alright. You'll see."
I dearly hoped she was right.
So....yeah. Yes, I couldn't resist putting a drop of forbidden love in my story---and shove old Nightpelt in the center of it (you remember him from the first series, I hope....the "fake" leader?). Beware: the next chapter contains death AND gushy CrookedxForest moments....something for the happy side of me and the dark side. :D