Disclaimer: I don't own the Warriors series!
Title: Deep Dive
Summary: In a world where ThunderClan absorbed ShadowClan seasons ago, young warrior Weaselface is tasked to rebuild the fourth Clan and take her place as leader. But how can she betray all she's ever known and loved, all on the word of one ghost with a grudge?
...
"Ha!" cried Weaselface as her paws descended on the boggy ground. She peeked between the pads of her paws to find her quarry had gotten away. Her head snapped up just in time for the lizard to slip into the bushes. The molly took off after it at a sprint. "Get back here, you little bugger!"
The lizard was quicker than she'd given it credit for. It squirmed towards the water unhindered by Weaselface's attempts. Its little fingers brushed the waves just in time for a golden paw to stamp down on its spine, killing it. Weaselface stopped, panting, as the tabby tom gleefully picked it up in his maw. "Nice catch!"
"You tired it out for me," he deflected, smiling indulgently. "Tell me, Weaselface; do you recognize me?"
Weaselface cocked her head to the side. There was something familiar about him. In spite of the white crowding his muzzle, she didn't think he was very old at all. The white went down his neck, reminiscent of the scar across her own face. She opened her mouth to scent him. He smelled of pines, and bog, and decay. It niggled at her as she tried to place him.
Finally, she spoke; "I don't think so, no."
"That's alright," he said. "I don't have much time now, Weaselface, but I'll tell you everything soon. When the waves come, let them pull you under."
"What?"
He shook his head. "We'll talk again soon, Weaselfa-"
"Weaselface!"
She startled awake. Weaselface forced herself to sit up. The reek of pine clung to her throat like mucus as she took in deep mouthfuls of air.
"Taking our time today, are we?" Beetooth meowed gruffly. The very tip of his tail was twitching.
Weaselface swallowed and glanced around. The warrior's den was empty. Mouse-dung! "Sorry."
The deputy watched without moving as she stood and stretched out every limb. "You've never had issues waking up before. Did you have a bad night?"
"No, sir. Just a really realistic dream."
"Oh?"
"Yes, sir. I was hunting."
Beetooth smiled. His underbite was prominent against his lips. "Well, let's see if we can't make that dream a reality, eh?"
Weaselface's pelt burned with embarrassment as she trudged into the clearing, avoiding the prying eyes of her Clanmates. It was a bright, sunny Newleaf day, with just the barest edge of chill in the breeze, and it was absolutely baffling that she'd slept in as late as she had. Is it because I'm pregnant? Weaselface had never given much attention to the queens in ThunderClan beyond hunting for them and changing the moss; she knew very little about the process itself outside of the basics.
Does being pregnant give you hyper-realistic dreams? The thought crossed her mind, though she dismissed it quickly as stupid. Having kittens didn't suddenly make a cat a dream expert. If it did, wouldn't medicine cats be pressured to have them, rather than forbidden? But it felt so real. I can still smell the lizard. And that stranger didn't feel like a figment of my imagination.
"Caught in the clouds, Weaselface?"
She flinched and looked up. Caught up in deciphering dreams that were probably just a result of bad fresh-kill, she'd almost run muzzle-first into Spiderstar. "I'm so sorry, sir!" she yelped, backing up a step. "I'm being bee-brained is all."
Thankfully, Spiderstar seemed to take her change in stride. His amber eyes glowed warmly as he regarded her. "It's not a problem. I can only imagine how stressful this time must be for you."
"Oh," she said, shuffling her feet. "Adderpelt told you."
Spiderstar laughed. "No, that was Flintpoppy." The black tom casually wound around her side with a purr. "I can't tell you how excited I am, though. I was always a bit worried about Adderpelt, you know? He's not much of a warrior; too soft, too lenient. But I knew you'd keep him safe. And now, with kits coming, he'll have all the more reason to fight harder."
Weaselface's heart dropped to her paws at the thought of another battle. "Sir," she said carefully, "I hope you aren't going to send him off like when we were apprentices. Grief isn't good for kittens."
"Nonsense- it's better to be you two than your little ones, amiright?" He gave her shoulder a playful nudge. "Anyway, do you mind if I ask a little favor from you? Ratpaw's been kicking up a huge fuss about his hunting assessment, so I want you and Fogfur to redo it without Smokescar."
The warrior blinked at him, surprised. She was happy to see Ratpaw shine, but it didn't seem quite like Spiderstar to listen to an apprentice's word against their mentor's. "You think he'll pass?"
"Oh, no," he replied, sounding for all the world as if he was talking about the weather. "But if it shuts him up, then I'll take it."
"Fogfur, I think we're supposed to be watching Ratpaw hunt. Not... this."
The gray tabby shoved her muzzle in the stream after a minnow. Her teeth latched onto pebbles instead, and she came up spitting them out. "Hey, we're allowed to have a snack while we watch, aren't we?"
Weaselface's nose wrinkled. "I think I'll pass. I'm not much of a rock cat."
"Don't knock it 'till you try it." Fogfur's whiskers twitched amicably. "Mintfern's always trying to get queens to take their minerals, after all."
She stuck her tongue out. Now that everyone knew, it was getting harder and harder to dodge the little hints and questions of what came next. It all pressed in around her; how many did she want, what names were they thinking of, were there any pelt colors she was hoping for, and so on. Deep down, it was hard for her to even recognize she was pregnant, let alone that she was soon going to parent a number of lives.
"Space case," Fogfur meowed, giving her a jab. "Come back to Earth, Weasel. Ratpaw's moving."
"Right! Sorry." Weaselface's ears swiveled forward as she took the lead once again. Ratpaw crept out of some bushes and took off, returning with a finch. He looked winded as he set it beside the mouse he'd nabbed not long before, scraping dirt over the fresh-kill.
Ratpaw had proven himself a decent hunter so far- not as good as Bumblepaw, but easily more competent than Smokescar had reported. It made Weaselface a little sick to see the father continuously ignore his son and his wishes. He probably just wants to keep him as a 'paw for as long as possible, but it's so... oof.
Fogfur, seeming to catch onto her thoughts, grimaced. "He's a bad mentor."
"Yeah."
"You know why Spiderstar did it, right? Because Smokescar always backs him up."
Somehow, that only made Weaselface more uncomfortable, though she didn't dare voice that out loud. "It was his decision, and I'm sure he had good hopes for it, but it's still a shame."
The gray tabby rolled her eyes. "It's mouse-brained. I won't be like that, when I'm a mentor." She paused, seemingly just realizing that she was bad-mouthing Spiderstar, which hadn't ever gotten anyone an apprentice before. "Do you think he'll let me?"
"Maybe," Weaselface meowed, watching Ratpaw face-plant after failing to snag a robin. Bad luck!
"Maybe one of yours?"
"I dunno," she replied, not entirely comfortable with the idea. "Maybe?"
Fogfur contemplated it for a second. "Well, if not me, then Nutstripe, right?"
Weaselface paused. Nutstripe was soft-spoken and patient. "I wouldn't be against it."
She accepted that with a nod. "Okay. I could... I could do that. He's been really shaken up lately, you know? He needs a confidence booster. And he's really good at hunting!"
"Your brother did just die."
The fur along Fogfur's spine rose. "Why do you keep saying that? It's not like it's news."
"You act like it never happened!"
"Of course it happened! Have you seen how hurt Nutstripe is? Sweetshine?" Fogfur thrust her muzzle in Weaselface's face, making the molly step back. "You need to stop acting all high and mighty just because you miss him. We all do."
Weaselface's nose wrinkled, unintentionally revealing a fang. "Says the cat who wanted to throw a feast the night he died."
"In his honor!" Fogfur snorted. "You sound so much like Dew, you know that? All she ever did was nitpick everyone for missing your dad. Now you want us all to grieve the exact same way. Is that what you're gonna teach your kits?"
"To be respectful of the dead? I dunno. Probably."
The warrior shoved past her and clambered after Ratpaw. Weaselface, tail lashing, complied with the silent order to follow her. Maybe it was cruel of her to judge, but if she didn't, then all she had was that empty feeling that had been hounding her for the past couple of days. It's better to be angry than indifferent.
"He did good, sir," Fogfur finished her report with the flourish. "A lot better than he did with Smokescar, anyway. He caught basically anything we asked him to look for, minus a robin and a tricky vole."
Spiderstar hummed and nodded. "Well, thanks for taking the time out. Be sure to grab yourselves some extra off the pile today, alright? My treat."
That's it? Weaselface worked her claws into the dirt with barely contained curiosity. "Are you going to give him to someone else?" she asked.
"What?" The leader stared at her, confused. "No. Why would I do that?"
"Smokescar's proven he-"
"Smokescar-" Spiderstar cut her off- "Is right to have his doubts in an apprentice who's only a few moons along. His sudden increase in hunting ability is promising, but it's an achievement his mentor assuredly had a paw in. Are there any other questions?"
Weaselface gaped at him like a fish. "What was the point, then?"
"Weasel," Fogfur warned quietly.
She ignored her. "Re-doing an assessment is a sign that there's something faulty in a mentor's teaching, isn't it? Why would you send us out there just to brush us off now?"
"I gave you my reasons," he answered calmly. "Ratpaw felt he needed a second shot. I indulged him. Really, Weaselface, I don't see why you'd think it more complicated than that." Spiderstar gently nosed her shoulder, but the grin didn't meet his eyes. "I know you're stressed over the kittens, but you're well taken care of here in ThunderClan."
Weaselface paused, unsure. "I thought I was giving birth in the old camp. Like Dew did."
"That was Dew's choice. Just like it's my choice that the mother of my grandkits should be safe from any kitnappers and kittypets." Spiderstar dismissed the concept with a flick of his paw. "Besides, Squirrelwhisker has earned that punishment, letting Antpaw die like that."
He died protecting me! Weaselface wanted to snarl, knowing full well that he knew that too, but Spiderstar didn't look interested. "I had Flintpoppy make you a nest while you were gone. She put a lot of work into it, you know. You should thank her." His tail slung around her back in what Weaselface assumed he felt was a comforting gesture. "I know what this is about. You wanted to mentor him, didn't you?"
"What?"
"Mudcloud was the same way around kits. He wanted to be a mentor one day, then deputy, then leader. Just focus on your own litter for now, okay? Who knows? Maybe, one day, you'll be able to make that kind of leap. But not right now."
I could be totting three litters in here and I'd still be a decent deputy! Weaselface thought viciously, then stopped herself. A voice like her mother's told her to watch it, before she made the same mistakes her father had made. "It doesn't have to be me, sir. It could be Fogfur, or Nutstripe, or anyone else! Just, please don't keep him on with Smokescar."
Spiderstar shook his head. "Being part of a Clan is living with cats you just don't work well with. Ratpaw's just going to have to move past that. Now, go lay down, alright? You're starting to worry me- stress isn't good on a queen."
I'm barely even showing! They're the size of specks in there!
Thankfully, Fogfur intervened, muscling Weaselface away from what would clearly be a very dumb move. "Thank you for the snack privileges, sir. I'll be sure to hunt extra hard tomorrow to make up for it."
"See that you do," Spiderstar meowed, relaxing a bit. He dismissed them with his tail.
The warrior practically shoved her out of the den; and Weaselface, in a haze of rage, stumbled and almost fell along the way, but kept on moving with the full understanding that if she fell Spiderstar would see and probably laugh about it to himself later.
"Stars, you're a mouse-brain," Fogfur meowed eventually. Weaselface turned to snap at her, only to spot her whiskers trembling. Is she... trying not to laugh? "You do know he's the guy who did that to your face, right?"
"So what?" she meowed. "That doesn't make him keeping Ratpaw as Smokescar's 'paw any less stupid."
"Well, how about this- when you're leader, you can decide who does or doesn't get trained by who."
Weaselface snorted. Leader? The idea was preposterous. "Sure, right. And you can be my deputy."
Author's Note: This was mostly establishing Spiderstar's character a bit! He's basically a passive-aggressive soccer mom. He used to be more violent when he was younger, but accidentally almost killing a kit kind of curbs your claws. Sometimes. For a bit.
It's not been stated yet, but Flintpoppy is Spiderstar's mate. She hasn't shown up yet, but I think she'll be an interesting character. Same with Squirrelwhisker.
-Mandaree1
