Author's Note: A thousand apologies for the late update! Therefore, this chapter is quite long. And without any further ado…
Chapter Eleven: His Rose
There was a ripple in the shadows as a stealthy black cat crept through the night, keeping low to the ground, as if he were stalking prey. He crept forward quietly, tail twitching back and forth.
Suddenly, he lunged forwards, claws sheathed, bowling into a second cat near the entrance to Barley's Farm. She let out a fierce yowl before grappling with the black-furred tom and wrestling him into the ground, where she glared at him with fierce gray eyes.
Then, those gray eyes blinked recognition. "Ravenwing!" the she-cat purred, her voice strangely accented. "You are back from ThunderClan?"
Ravenwing slipped out from under Rose's grip and gave his disheveled fur a quick licking. "Yes," he winced, "that white tom that we found here was my best friend's nephew, Cloudpaw; he's back with the Clan now."
Rose purred. "That's wonderful; the poor dear, he looked so miserable! I am glad he has found his home again…I know what is like to lose one."
The black-pelted tom paused, his green eyes filled with curiosity; but he did not press on. After all, he had not told Rose his own past. Instead, he meowed: "How are the kits?"
The she-cat's demeanor changed instantly. "I left them with Barley," she purred, "they're quite a—"
Suddenly, a squeal sounded from the entrance to the barn.
"DADDY'S BACK!" shrieked a voice. Two figures streaked through the night, cannoning into Ravenwing and knocking him over into the ground.
"Oomph!" the black tom grumbled, and the two kits giggled.
One was a tom-kit, the other, a she-kit. The she-kit was much like her gentle mother; she was intelligent and quiet and obedient. She had her father's emerald eyes, the color of leaves in Newleaf, and a dark brown pelt, most likely inherited from Rose's tribal ancestors. Ravenwing had named his daughter—her name was Hollypaw.
Hollypaw's brother had Ravenwing's night-black fur and Rose's warm gray eyes—he had been christened Dark Storm Before Dawn; a Tribe cat's name. It was suiting, because Hollypaw had a Clan cat's name.
Ravenwing was disappointed to learn that none of his kits had Rose's pale pink pelt, but he had come to terms that Rose was unique in his heart—from her appearance to the gentle spirit that had so attracted him to her.
"Kits, play nicely," Rose chided gently, her gaze loving as she gave Hollypaw's head a quick lick. The little she-kit squealed and wriggled away to her father.
"You should be asleep by now!" Ravenwing meowed, laughing, rolling his young son over with a sheathed forepaw.
"Barley said we can stay up!" said Storm energetically, wrestling with his father's grip and hissing with the effort.
"He did not!" Hollypaw protested, smiling, batting at her father's black tail. "He fell asleep!"
Storm was quick to shush his honest sister, and Ravenwing mrrowed with laughter, feeling a surge of warmth envelope his heart. He had Rose and Hollypaw and Storm—and Barley would always be there for him, to mentor him and guide him. He was safe from Tigerclaw—he had all he had ever wanted. Love. A family.
"Go to bed now," Ravenwing scolded, "I might teach you how to catch rat tomorrow if you fall asleep right away."
Storm's eyes lit up, and he scrambled to his paws and dashed away, calling: "Good night Father, Mother!"
Hollypaw followed more slowly; more dignified, after giving both her parents a loving lick.
The two sat in silence for a while, their fur pressed close together, their eyes illuminated in the moonlight that gently shafted down.
Rose settled back onto her haunches and Ravenwing lying on the ground, grooming his disheveled fur.
"I never knew you were so good with kits," Rose remarked.
Ravenwing laughed. "Me either. You've taught them well, Rose. Hollypaw is beautiful and kind-hearted and intelligent—just like you.
Rose smiled. "And Storm is wild and mischievous and ambitious; like you!"
Ambitious.
The black tom froze and his breath caught in his throat. There was a long silence, and then Ravenwing spoke quietly.
"No," he meowed softly, looking off into the dark night sky, "not ambitious."
The word immediately brought back memories of Tigerclaw, the tabby deputy that had put a dark cloud over his time in ThunderClan. Tigerclaw proved he was willing to kill for the sake of his ambition. He was nothing like Tigerclaw—and neither was Storm. With a pang, he realized that he was related to Tigerclaw, and so was both his kits. If Storm had shown any ambition, it would have been from Tigerclaw.
Rose pressed comfortingly against his side. "Ravenwing, I'm sorry," she murmured quietly, her gray eyes warm and rueful.
"No," he said, his voice suddenly ragged. "It's not you."
The she-cat looked vague and unsure. "Will you tell me about it?"
He paused, eyes closed, content to breathe in the gentle scent of rose on Rose's fur. "No…not until you tell me about your own past first."
The reaction Ravenwing got was unexpected and shocking. Rose stiffened and drew away, her beautiful gray eyes clouding over to an inky black, full of remorse and grief and bitter hatred. When she spoke, her voice was as quiet as the whispering of the wind. "Ravenwing…the past is the past."
Ravenwing felt hurt by the she-cat's reaction. "But I'm your mate," he protested, "you should be able to tell me anything. Rose—whatever happened in your past, it wouldn't effect what I think of you!"
Rose was silent for the longest time, staring into the distance stiff. Ravenwing was tense as well, waiting eagerly and anxiously for an answer. He had no idea how much time passed before the she-cat meowed: "My past…"
flashback
"Mamma! Mamma!"
A kit's terrified shrieks pierced through the night air and echoed off the stonewalls, her pale gray eyes wide and horrified, her chest heaving as she fought for breath. Pure terror gripped her heart with icy fingers, and she opened her maw again and again to let out a heartrending wail.
"Rose! Rose!"
A deep male voice tried to get through to the small kit, his voice soothing, and gentle. "Rose, come back!"
Rose had gone into another world, far away, a world without pain—a world that existed only in her own mind. A world in which her mother had not died because of her.
A flash of light brown tabby fur streaked through the corner of Rose's vision and the next thing she knew, she was enveloped in warmth…and she drooped off to sleep.
xxx
An oddly colored kit was curled in a warm nest, her flanks twitching and shuddering as if she was suffering from a nightmare. Her eyes danced from behind her eyelids, and she let out a whimper every once in a while.
The brown tabby cat that had soothed Rose last night stood in the distance, her eyes gazing over her young sister with fear. Her brother stood by her side, shaking his head.
"She took it so hard last night," he meowed quietly, his eyes dark and grieved.
The brown she-cat sighed. "She was so young…" she raised her gaze to her brother, her eyes challenging. "She's only three moons old, Talon! Don't you think you would be upset if our mother died when you were three moons old?"
Talon narrowed his dark eyes. "Brook…I never said that she didn't have the right to be upset. But I worry about her. Last night…Brook, last night it was as if she wasn't even Rose. She was someone else, a complete and total stranger. She blanked out. I thought she would kill herself! She was overwrought…" the tom's words trailed off, and he shuddered.
Brook's tail twitched. "This is all Sharptooth's fault. Without him, Mamma would be alive." Her eyes filled with tears, betraying that she was not yet mature enough to pretend to not care.
Her brother was more emotionless, but his legs stiffened. "We should go and wake her. It looks like she's having a nightmare."
Talon and Brook walked over to the pale sleeping shape—they both loved their little sister very much, because of her peculiar coat. Rose had fur the color of the palest pink rose, and the warmest, kindest gray eyes.
It was Brook that nudged their younger sister awake. Talon was the oldest—she was the middle child. "Good morning, Rose," she murmured quietly, curling her slim frame around the tiny kit protectively.
Rose blinked awake her pretty gray eyes, bleary with sleep. "Where's Mamma?" she meowed groggily, shaking her head and twitching her ears.
Brook's breath caught in her throat. "Rose…Mamma is dead. I am so very sorry."
The tiny kit stiffened suddenly, then relaxed and slumped. "Then," she meowed tremulously, staring at her older sister with those warm gray eyes, "it was…not a nightmare? It was not…a dream? Mamma…is dead?"
Brook closed her eyes and lowered her head to the ground. "It is not your fault, dearest Rose. Sharptooth took her; she tried to save you. Mamma loved you so much…more than all the rest of us. You were Mamma's little Rose."
Talon's eyes flickered with emotion and he leaned down to touch his nose to his little sister's. "Brook is right," he meowed quietly, voice low, "Mamma loved you best of all."
"But because of me," the tiny kit whimpered piteously, "Mamma isn't here anymore. I wish…I had died instead," she meowed miserably, "then Mamma would be here, right? Where is she now?"
Brook's words were quiet and gentle. "Mamma is with the Tribe of Endless Hunting. You can see her when the pools are full in the Cave of Pointed Stones. One day, Rose, you will see her again."
Her gray eyes clouded over. "I want to see Mamma now," she murmured quietly, "I just want to see her so I can so bye!" Her big, innocent eyes turned to her brother. "Talon, when will I see Mamma again?"
The tom looked away. "Some day."
End flashback
"After Mamma died, more cats started to be taken by Sharptooth, a hideous mountain lion that preyed upon us. Our lives were full of fear, and we were afraid of our own land. We were the prey now; eagles were not our only threat.
"Stoneteller, the 'leader' of the Tribe of Rushing Water, sent out cats to save us from Sharptooth. They were supposed to hunt him down and kill them—he sent out cats that were brave and swift and strong beyond measure. One of them was my brother, Talon.
"I desperately tried to bargain with Stoneteller to let me go instead. Mamma would never forgive me if I took her son's life—after all, I had already taken hers. Brook begged as well, but Stoneteller stood firm. Brook had to feed the Tribe, and I had to defend it as well as I could. Talon was the one who had to go and do this.
"Talon came back a quarter moon later—half the group had been ravaged, and some did not come back at all, including Sun of Radiant Light, Mamma's best friend. Stoneteller was furious. He ordered them to come back with Sharptooth's hide or not at all. They were forced to leave again—and that was the last Brook or I saw of Talon."
Ravenwing paused, emerald eyes full of remorse and shock. He touched his nose to hers and instantly forgot his own dark past for Rose's.
"Rose…" he murmured quietly, then trailed off. "You ran away directly after Stoneteller refused to bring back Talon?"
The she-cat looked defiant. "Yes," she meowed, without a trace of remorse. "And I wasn't sorry to leave it behind." Her demeanor softened. "I found you…Ravenwing, this place is all I could ever ask for. Barley, a wonderful friend and mentor, the two most perfect kits in the world, a place to call home…and the most wonderful mate I could ever have."
The black tom swallowed hard. "I will never let anything happen to you, Rose. I promise."
Rose. She was his Rose.
But not for much longer.
End Note: Oooh, foreshadowing! Something terrible is going to happen to Rose…but no more of that yet. I hope you enjoyed!
More to come…