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?
Chapter Title: Welcome to the Night
...
"You've got to be kidding me," Dovefrost said, eyes wide and dubious.
Weaselface flinched, almost dropping her mouse. "You don't have to be rude about it, you know."
The molly shifted guiltily, but didn't apologize. "It just doesn't make sense. Why would StarClan choose you? Nothing against you, Weasel, but this isn't exactly a great time for you to get some prophecy, is it?"
"Brackenstar said it was because I'm all rogue-blood."
Dovefrost pressed on. "They should've sent the vision to Mintfern. Or- I dunno, maybe Spiderstar himself."
"I don't think StarClan wants Spiderstar to have anything to do with this," she admitted, then hesitantly tacked on; "I don't think I want him to have anything to do with this."
The white molly tensed. Her face was very serious. "And what about the future of ThunderClan elders? Do you think we should just take every old cat out and throw them into a Thunderpath?"
"Clans are supposed to care for their elders! Spiderstar might have forgotten that, but StarClan hasn't." Weaselface looked long and hard at Dovefrost. It was hard to imagine her mentor was getting old, but there was the beginning sprinkle of gray along her muzzle. "You can't think this is all okay, can you?"
"That's a straw man and you know it. Every Clan has a few bad eggs, and sometimes those bad eggs become leader. ThunderClan is still ThunderClan, and it's where your loyalties should be." Dovefrost trailed her tail across Weaselface's shoulders. "This ShadowClan cat doesn't know you. All he knows is his own ambitions. Let StarClan take care of its own messes, alright?"
"Okay," Weaselface meowed, feeling surprisingly hurt. Dovefrost had a point, of course; Brackenstar was far from an unbiased source of info, and dead cats were just as flawed as live ones, but it was starting to make more and more sense to her regardless- fixing up the old camp and making ShadowClan come to life would help make the lake feel more equal again, and it would give the kits a chance to grow up without favoritism.
Dovefrost padded away, tail trailing under Weaselface's chin, and she knew the conversation was over. She sighed and set the mouse down, sick at the heart. She won't tell Spiderstar. She's always been kind like that.
But if I don't have the support of a senior warrior, is it worth the risk? I'd just be laughed out of ThunderClan.
Grass crunched underfoot, making her ears prick, though she didn't bother to look as Fogfur joined her. It'd been good luck that they'd all been put on hunting patrol today, just as it was good luck Weaselface had been able to pull Dovefrost away. She'd assumed two in one day would be too much.
"Woof," Fogfur meowed, sneaking a glance behind her. "What'd you say? She's fluffed up like a pinecone."
"Just something mouse-brained."
"Must've been a pretty big mouse-brained thing to get her going like that." The gray tabby leaned in, eyes twinkling. "Tell me?"
Weaselface sighed again. You know what? Why not. Fogfur's never betrayed me to Spiderstar either, even when she was mad at me. "I think I've been getting dreams from StarClan."
Fogfur blinked at her. "Isn't that a good thing?"
"No," Weaselface said grimly, and told the whole story. To her credit, Fogfur listened with a surprising amount of patience.
"Huh," she meowed eventually, once Weaselface had run out of yarn to spin. "Cool."
Weaselface stared her down, certain she was joking. "Cool?"
"Yeah! It's like an adventure, only it's next door, so you won't have to miss your friends so much."
"But if cats came, I'd be ripping families apart. Isn't that a little messed up?"
Fogfur shrugged. "We can set up a meeting spot. Like a mini-Gathering." She tilted her head slightly. "What did Brackenstar say about it when you slept in the ShadowClan nest?"
She kicked a spot of dirt up with her paw. "I haven't gone yet."
"Why not?" The gray tabby headbutted her shoulder in a friendly manner. "You seem pretty interested. And if you don't like what he says, it's over and done."
"I guess," Weaselface replied. She was a bit shocked how into this Fogfur was becoming, especially after how Dovefrost had reacted.
"We could do it tonight! I'll ask Spiderstar if I can help you guard the elders' camp tonight. I usually do it anyway, and he doesn't exactly complain about warriors volunteering." Fogfur's eyes widened. "Man, you're not even Weasel anymore, are you? You're Weaselstar."
Weaselface shifted, tail flicking. "I don't feel like a Weaselstar."
"Well, duh. You aren't doing 'star things yet! But soon you might be soon." Fogfur's ears pricked with ill-contained excitement. "Let's do this thing, Weaselstar."
The night was clear and warm, though Weaselface hardly noticed. She anxiously crept inside the elders' camp, prompted by an encouraging nod from Fogfur, only to find it empty. Everyone had retired to their dens without a fuss. I dunno if that makes this creepier or comfier. Weaselface took a quick sprint over to the center of camp, towards a hill of rocks.
Ducking behind an ancient rag of lichen, probably put there to keep kittens out, Weaselface found herself in a little hollow. The floor was covered in shreds of moss and thorns, with a little dip in the far corner. Weaselface strained her ears, but the thicker walls made it practically impossible to catch much outside. She shuddered, feeling strangely disconnected from the rest of the world.
This is stupid. What if someone wakes up and sees me missing from my post? Weaselface hesitated, but reluctantly bunkered down on a few scraps of moss, trying to shift so she would be somewhat comfortable. This is a bad den for a leader. If I can't hear anything, I can't help. Her eyes slid over to the little dip. Might be a nice medicine den, though. It'd keep the herbs out of the weather and a random noise wouldn't interrupt dreaming. Weaselface's eyelids began to droop.
She blinked them open, and found golden tabby paws in front of her.
"Took you long enough," Brackenstar meowed, a teasing gleam in his eyes. He bent down and nudged her to her paws. "Don't worry, you'll feel plenty rested in the morning. This is a dream."
Weaselface stretched each leg in turn. There was an odd sort of energy to the tom she hadn't seen before, as if being in his camp had rejuvenated him. "What about-"
"I'll tell you, I promise. But first..." He nodded towards the entrance to the leader's den. It was day outside, and the lichen was new again. "Let me show you something."
She nodded, and together they left the leader's den. Weaselface blinked against the sunlight as she stumbled out into the clearing. She paused, staring, as cats swarmed out of dens on every side. Two kittens were rolling around in front of the apprentice's den, batting at each other with dark paws. A single 'paw stepped around them, sniggering as they butted heads. A pawful of elders sunned themselves on the rock and around the dens, while another patiently allowed what Weaselface assumed was their medicine cat unwrap a wound.
Brackenstar gave a gentle nudge with his paw, then swiveled his ears towards a tree. He eagerly leapt on, climbing in quick movements. Weaselface followed him onto a large branch that overlooked it all. "This is Pinebranch," he explained, sitting down. "I'd do ceremonies here."
Weaselface awkwardly sat next to him, a bit afraid of falling off, and looked out over the camp. None of the others seemed to notice. "Were they... your Clanmates?"
"They were," he rumbled. "I was young, when I was made leader. Younger than you. I'm ashamed to admit it, but I mostly stumbled into the position; my old mentor became leader, and he made me deputy and assigned me my first apprentice on the same day. He died before my apprentice was even a warrior." Brackenstar hissed a sigh out between his teeth. "ShadowClan was falling apart, Weasel. Seasons of mistakes piled up on us, and soon the others jeered at us. Some ShadowClan cats left us. Some thought being a kittypet was more honorable." He met her eye. "I wanted to prove them wrong."
Weaselface remembered a lifetime of being compared to Mudcloud and understood. "You should've focused on the warriors you had left. Not what everyone else said." He opened his mouth, but she cut him off. "I was the same. I was so scared of being Mudcloud. I still am."
Brackenstar reluctantly dipped his head. "Greencough hit us hard. Then foxes. My medicine cat was going on and on that we were doomed, the little pessimist. ThunderClan and RiverClan stole our prey, over and over. We were starving. My deputy told me to keep my head down." His claws dug into the bark. "I didn't."
She glanced down to see cats vanishing, one by one. First it was the apprentice. Then the kits. Warriors glared up at them, baleful and doubting, before turning away. Only the elders stayed as they were.
"It took beating Rage and Fury for LeopardClan to win the river," he meowed, ears flattening. "All it took ThunderClan was one dumb tom. My deputy made a deal to protect those remaining, and they pounced while I slept. One by one, they took my lives. My oldest allies, killing me over and over again, so they could be spared." Brackenstar bared his teeth. "I will never forgive them. I will never forgive her."
Weaselface looked again and flinched. Only a Shadow remained, staring up at them without expression.
"Was it worth it?" he spat at it. "I trusted you! I loved you! Maybe I was a terrible leader, but you have committed a sin unforgivable, taking active part in destroying a Clan!"
The Shadow blinked empty sockets. "I saved ShadowClan," it meowed. "Your descendants walk among ThunderClan now. One helped your heir here tonight. I will never regret keeping them safe."
Brackenstar bunched his muscles and leapt off Pinebranch, landing on the ground with a solid thud. Weaselface hurried after him as he shoved his muzzle in the Shadow's face, every tooth bright and well-kempt. "StarClan sees it differently," he snarled.
"You don't forgive us. That is fine." The Shadow looked to her as she approached, bowing. "You have gifted us names, Lost. Have you forgotten mine?"
Weaselface squinted at it. "...Love?"
Love jerked its head in a nod. "Brackenstar will never forgive. I will never ask him too. But you... you can set us free. Give me permission, and I will fight for you to the very end."
"So you can kill her too?" he snorted.
"She will be my Clanmate," Love retorted. "You would understand, if you looked past your anger. But you refuse." It lifted its nose like an apprentice about to be named a warrior. "Will you greet me as a Clanmate, Weaselstar?"
Weaselface glanced at Brackenstar, unsure. This didn't seem like something she should be getting involved in.
"Go ahead." Brackenstar didn't take his eyes off of Love. "It doesn't matter now. ShadowClan will rise again, and it will do so by my heir."
Taking that as a go ahead, the brown molly took a single step closer and bumped noses with Love. Something fizzled under her nose, smelling of sap and flowers. She rubbed it against her arm as the Shadow looked at her, smiling.
Something dark and coiling landed before her.
Strip by strip, darkness peeled from the Shadow. Snowy white paws first, then legs, then finally the pelt itself, dappled with oranges and blacks. The newly unveiled calico had soft, gentle eyes, in spite of her very noticeable claws, which naturally poked out of her paws a little.
"Thank you," she meowed, in a different voice this time. It sounded a bit like gravel under a Monster's paws.
Brackenstar looked taken aback at the transformation, but he did his best to nod coolly. "Beethroat," he grunted. "It's been a long time since I could use that name for you."
"And who's fault is that?" Beethroat asked. She gently nosed underneath his chin, and Brackenstar went as stiff as stone. "I never stopped loving you, you know. But being a deputy means I had to be more than a silly crush."
"I don't forgive you," he repeated, but sounded just a little uncertain.
"It wasn't an apology," she returned, and in a blink she was gone.
Weaselface sniffed the air. There was still lingering sap on the breeze. "She seemed nice."
Brackenstar slowly shook himself. "You'll understand, someday, that there are things you just can't forgive. No matter how much someone meant to you," he replied. "Now. I've told you our past. Will you be our present, Weasel?"
"None of this has exactly been convincing. You want me to- what? Tear apart ThunderClan? So you can feel justified?"
"Don't be mouse-brained. ThunderClan is on the cusp of breaking between the bold and the afraid. You saw it today, didn't you?" Brackenstar held out a paw. "Let's show the world what it means to be equal again. Together."
Weaselface looked around the empty camp. It was old and decrypt again, just as it had been when she was a kitten. But she felt something flutter in her chest as the thought of her kits playing here, of growing into fierce ShadowClan warriors. She wanted to spend her seasons striped in the comforting shadows, and she wanted to meet more cats like Beethroat.
"Okay," she said, crossing their paws in a crude handshake. "Let's do it."
Author's Note: This chapter is more talking than doing, but next time will be one helluva DoingTM chapter.
Fun Fact: there's basically no description of ShadowClan's lake territory on the wiki. So I basically pulled a hunk of rocks out of my butt and set them there to be DramaticTM.
-Mandaree1
