Chapter Twenty-Five: Protector

The travel back to the camp was a blur, and by the time they got back it was pitch black out. Emberfoot had run ahead and told Snowstar and Bluefur that they'd found Lionpaw and Pebbleheart, and by the time the others got there, the camp was silent and asleep.

Lionpaw felt sick the whole way home. He and Pebbleheart alone knew the truth hanging over the camp. It was terrible; the realization that this Firerunner was really a traitor to the Code, in love but foolish. That Pebbleheart was just as much to blame, yet her story even more heart-breaking. And that Longfang was the black-hearted villain Lionpaw had always suspected him to be. But somehow, the truth made it ten times more painful.

And he couldn't tell Snowstar. Not tonight. There was nothing he could do immediately anyways; he had to gather his thoughts tonight, and tomorrow, first thing. He and Pebbleheart had to reveal the truth. It would hurt them all... but it had to be done.

As soon as Lionpaw slipped into the apprentice den, he just sank down, and lay there for a long time. His eyes were open, his heart beating, his ribs rising and falling to each breath. He didn't think. He just lay, trying to truly take in all he'd learned. Half of him desperately wanted to call it all a nightmare, a terrible dream. He wanted to wake up from it, wake up into a world where there were no affairs, no murder, no revenge.

But he guessed that world came after life. And he didn't want to die. Not yet.

He had to finish this. He was so close.

After many hours of silence, there was a rustling behind him, and Lionpaw blinked, hesitantly lifting his head to see Frostpaw sitting up. He looked at her in surprise, wondering if she was really awake or just dreaming. But her crystal-clear blue eyes were wide and swirling, and though she looked tired, she looked suddenly alert when she recognized him.

"Lionpaw! You're back!" She shivered. "When did you come home?"

Lionpaw blinked, and glanced outside of the den. The sky was a dark, inky black. Thousands of glittering stars dotted the endless sky, and there, hanging proudly on her throne of stars, was the moon. Huge, a creamy white shade, her cold face seemed to smile encouragingly down at Lionpaw.

"Hours ago," he answered in a low whisper, wrapping his tail around him and not meeting her eyes. It was strange to talk to her after all that he'd learned. It seemed unfair. He wished he could tell her now... but knew he couldn't.

Through the entrance of their den, milky moonlight washed into their warm nests. It painted the cool rock ground and seemed to dance slowly as it flickered over Frostpaw's fur. As Lionpaw gazed at her, he took a quick breath, his eyes wide as he gazed at her. The moonshine made her pale coat even more washed out, so she looked like a breathtakingly beautiful ghost, sitting there, gazing at him. Her blue eyes two little watery diamonds, and her lean body sitting comfortably on the rock. Lionpaw reflected on how much they'd all grown in the past moons; and how she'd grown, too. She used to just be a good friend, plain and young.

But things were changed now. And after learning the truth of Firerunner's death, he'd come to understand how short and beautiful life is. And how there was no time for unspoken words.

"Frostpaw-"

"Lionpaw-"

They stopped. Both had spoken at the same instant, and a sheepish silence settled over them.

"You go," she mumbled.

"No, please, you," Lionpaw told her earnestly. He knew they were probably the only two awake in the whole camp, but that suited him just fine. He couldn't sleep anyways. Not with the knowledge that a killer was just sleeping the den right across from him.

Though he was probably awake, too.

"Fine," she sighed, then looked down at her paws. "Look... Lionpaw, I saw that you never congratulated Buzzardflight. You went off alone with Pebbleheart." Her voice was flat and disappointed, and Lionpaw blinked, feeling frustrated. In the morning, she'd understand... right?

"Look," he growled tersely. "I didn't... do anything with her, okay? We had to talk. You'll... you'll understand soon."

"Talk about what?" Frostpaw murmured.

"I- I can't say."

"Naturally."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Oh, nothing."

Lionpaw's earlier fond thoughts of her vanished as he felt his back-fur bristling, his lips bared in a snarl. She looked angry, too, and he suddenly realized how foolish this was. It was time to be honest with Frostpaw. There was just no other way to make her understand.

He took a sudden step forward, and pressed his nose against hers, rubbing his chin along her muzzle. "Frostpaw, you idiotic, beautiful furball! I don't love Pebbleheart; I think..." He broke off and gazed at her; she looked startled by his sudden move, but not angry startled. Pleased startled. She listened with wide eyes, and Lionpaw gazed at her, thinking back to Pebbleheart's words. "I think I may be in love with you, Frostpaw. And I don't want to be with Pebbleheart. How many times do I have to tell you that?" He laughed. As he spoke, it was a relief to get the words out, but they surprised him. Yet it was true. He knew then that, though he cared for
Pebbleheart, he did not love her, and he never would. He was opening his eyes: he was seeing Frostpaw now.

And he suddenly had a name for all those swirling emotions within him.

"I think I might be in love with you too, Lionpaw," Frostpaw whispered. "That's why it hurt when you went off with her. This whole time... I never thought I'd fall in love with my best friend."

Lionpaw smiled, and so many feelings tingled in his paws and surged in his heart that he let out a laugh, and pressed against her. He had to remember.

Even in the darkest of times, there is a light.

Always.

"I didn't think so either," he murmured. "But I guess we're not supposed to know these things, huh?"

Frostpaw drew away from him, and they sat very close, their eyes shining. Lionpaw spoke first.

"Frostpaw... look. I know... things. Bad things. And tomorrow- tomorrow everything is going to change. Lions might get hurt," he whispered, shutting his eyes tight. "And I couldn't bear it if one of them were you. So... please.
Whatever happens, know that I will protect you."

Frostpaw gazed at him, expression mystified. "What do you know, Lionpaw?" she breathed.

Lionpaw just stared at her, and sighed, shaking his head. "Please. Not tonight."

Frostpaw nodded slowly, then reached forward and touched her nose to his. "I promise to love you, Lionpaw. I know we're young, but... I know this is right."

Lionpaw rasped a tongue over her ear gently, and said nothing. But his silence was more than he could have ever said. Eyes shining, they lay back, bodies close, heart racing together. There may be a terrible, dangerous storm raging towards them, but for now, they had each other. And for now, that was all they needed.

And as Lionpaw closed his eyes, his refusal to sleep weakened, and finally dreams came to him.