Not dead. **cringes**
I honestly have no good reason for why I didn't update. I guess it's because I wanted to get the story actually finished before I wrote much more, but that doesn't make too much sense, as I've had all this written for a very long time, and it's not really cliff-hanger-y...? But the last one was...?
Disclaimer: I don't own any Warriors things. Just this plotline, really. And like...yeah, that's about it. Characters and stuff.
Chapter 25: The Storm
Littlefalcon didn't realize he was capable of letting go. But as the sky opened up around him, Littlefalcon let the rain drench his pelt and released everything. Soon enough, he was cold and wet and miserable, and tears ran down his face that blended in with the rain and made the dirt muddy underneath his paws. This was the night his reputation was ripped to shreds. Standing by the stream at the WindClan border, Littlefalcon stared at his amber eyes in the water and waited for the moment he would be happy again. It would be soon.
A splash of lightning arched down not far away, lighting up the moors, and Littlefalcon shivered as the thunder rolled. Soon, it would light up the scene he desired and feared.
That time came soon. Amidst the grey expanse of the moors, the lightning sparked down, and it caught the silhouettes of cats streaking through the rain. Over the thunder, Littlefalcon heard the screaming of the only cat he loved enough to lose himself. He couldn't clear the river anymore, so he zigzagged down the river, the trees blurring before his eyes. His heart pounded with emotion that overrode the knowledge in his head. This was happening. This was happening now. Ivychase.
He made it to the junction where most ThunderClan cats crossed into WindClan territory: where the river got low and the stones were big enough to hop across. On the last stone, Littlefalcon slipped. His heart jumped into his throat as he slid, but he leaped on a whim and made it to the opposite bank. His claws dug into the soft, mushy ground, covering his chest and face in mud. Littlefalcon looked up, ignoring the gross squish of his paws in the dirt, and pummeled his paws into the mud until he could leap up out of it. A lull in the thunder allowed his keen ears to hear the cries of pain he hated to hear. Digging his claws into the dirt to allow himself to jump and run, Littlefalcon sped across WindClan territory. He didn't care anymore. He knew what Ivychase wanted, and it was the same desire he shared: they would be together on this terrible night.
Littlefalcon focused his nose and his ears in the storm and used that and an underlying current of knowledge to bring himself to the place where WindClan cats were gathered. He could now pick up scents: Thrushpelt, Sunstrike, Sedgewhisker, and Hailstorm among Kestrelflight and Jaystrike, and in the center, collapsed on the roots of a cedar tree, was the cat he most desired: Ivychase.
As he ran to them, Hailstorm noticed him first.
"What are you doing here?" called Hailstorm. The other WindClan cats looked up as Littlefalcon leaped into their midst. He had barely landed in view of Ivychase then Thrushpelt crashed into his shoulder.
"ThunderClan scum!" Thrushpelt screamed the words into his ears, and Littlefalcon felt the bigger tom's claws scoring down his side. He cried out, twisting and squirming as best he could. Thrushpelt's jaws fastened in the skin around Littlefalcon's throat, and he pushed Littlefalcon into the mud. Gasping for air, Littleflacon clawed at anything he could reach. He felt his claws slipping, felt the breath leaving his lungs as mud covered his eyes and swarmed into his nose. Thrushpelt shook him like he was killing a mouse, then pushed him down into the mud further.
"How dare you." Thrushpelt's voice was taught with fury. "I'll kill you."
"Thrushpelt!" Cats were screaming, Ivychase louder than the others. "Thrushpelt, stop!"
A cat butted Thrushpelt off of him, and Littlefalcon lay in the mud, his head spinning in and out. His head always hurt, but this rush for air stunned him. The rain splashed down onto his exposed belly, but Littlefalcon couldn't move. Then a familiar scent nosed into his pelt, and Littlefalcon looked up into the concerned eyes of Birdfeather.
"Birdfeather?" As he gained focus, he sat up and shook himself. Thrushpelt was being held back by Sunstrike and Sedgewhisker, who watched Littlefalcon and Birdfeather warily. Littlefalcon barely turned his head to ask what was happening before Skysong crashed into his side. She licked the top of his head like a mother would her kit.
"Thank StarClan we got here," she said. "I had to see you, oh, Littlefalcon, you're going to be the death of me!"
"Almost," said Littlefalcon warily, but she didn't understand his joke. Birdfeather and Skysong smiled at him through the rain, both she-cats worn and breathing heavily.
"You're not mad at me." That was his first realization. Skysong shook her head, a purr ripping out of her lungs.
"You made things right." Her eyes glowed. Birdfeather looked between them, not understanding. But Littlefalcon didn't care. His heart was beating too quickly, and he beamed, oh-so-relieved. The two of them were always intertwined. He thought that a choice he had made when he was a kit would separate them forever. But now, they were standing here on WindClan territory, and –
"Ivychase!" Skysong could wait. Littlefalcon caught his breath and scrambled past his sisters and over to Ivychase, who was under the shelter of the cedar branches, screaming her lungs out.
"Ivychase, I'm here." His words attracted the attention of the medicine cats, who spun on him. Jaystrike only cast him one glance before getting right back to work, murmuring words that Littlefalcon didn't understand.
"Get out of here, Littlefalcon." Kestrelflight's eyes bore holes in him. Littlefalcon shrunk back.
"Kestrelflight," Hailstorm said, materializing at Littlefalcon's side. "You can't cast Littlefalcon away. He's the father of Ivychase's kits, not me."
"What?" Kestrelflight narrowed his eyes. "Impossible."
"Littlefalcon." Ivychase's bright green eyes were visible through the rain, and he bent closer to her, bypassing Kestrelflight so he could perch beside Jaystrike. The younger medicine cat didn't look at him.
"He can't stay here!" Thrushpelt was shouting. "He's ThunderClan! He's the enemy!"
"I have to agree." Littlefalcon looked up in horror to see Kestrelflight shaking his head. "I won't stand idly by when traitors exist right under my paws." Littlefalcon had never seen the WindClan medicine cat get angry. He was always so mild. But now Kestrelflight was not mild – he lashed his tail in time with another smash of thunder overhead. "I'm not responsible for half-Clan kits."
"Hold on, Ivychase." Jaystrike hissed over her mentor's voice, and Littlefalcon turned away. Ivychase wailed into the sky, her eyes wide. She caught sight of Littlefalcon and managed what was almost a smile. "Kestrelflight, please! I don't know…she's suffering!"
"Can I help?" Birdfeather approached cautiously, but Kestrelflight hissed in protest.
"Oh, yes, let the betrayer of StarClan help." Birdfeather's ears flattened, and she crouched. "Murderer!"
The words struck Birdfeather across the face.
"I'm telling this to Whitestar!" Thrushpelt howled into the sky. Littlefalcon looked away from his mate to see him take off over the hills. Sedgewhisker and Sunstrike exchanged a despairing look. Ivychase yowled again, her claws arching as she seized.
"Do something," said Littlefalcon. Jaystrike shook her head, her eyes blinking rapidly.
"I've never done this before, not with pain like this…" She glanced back at her mentor desperately. "Kestrelflight, please!"
"Ivychase is a WindClan cat!" Sunstrike arched her back; her multi-colored fur would have been puffy, had it not been slicked down with rain. "Those kits are half-WindClan!"
"And half-ThunderClan!" said Kestrelflight.
"You helped me!" screamed Sunstrike. The other cats were stunned at the she-cat's outburst. Hailstorm had stiffened. "You helped me even after I'd been kidnapped because I'm WindClan! And you're WindClan's medicine cat!"
"Ignore whatever StarClan has been telling you for just a minute," begged Sedgewhisker. The light brown she-cat was shaking. "I want Ivychase to be okay."
Kestrelflight hesitated, and then he strode towards them, casting a dirty look at Littlefalcon.
"We'll take care of this," he said. "Jaystrike, the borage."
Ivychase was howling, but Littlefalcon flattened his ears to the top of his head and forced himself to think logically. He knew she would be fine. He slowly backed up, and Sedgewhisker took his place. He retreated to where Birdfeather and Skysong were still standing.
"She's going to be fine," said Skysong, and Littlefalcon nodded, numbly. Hailstorm approached them, his eyes dark.
"You shouldn't have come," he said to Littlefalcon. "I can't do anything for Ivychase now that Thrushpelt has gone back to Whitestar."
"She wanted it to be this way," said Littlefalcon quietly. Hailstorm sighed.
"She's a foolish cat," he said, looking at Ivychase and the medicine cats. Sunstrike had pulled Sedgewhisker slightly away and was talking to her quietly.
"I think you could have been a good father to those kits," said Littlefalcon. He thought for a moment. "And a good mate to Ivychase, if you had both tried to forget me."
"Ivychase couldn't forget you if she tried," said Hailstorm bluntly. "And it's okay. I don't love her."
"You could," said Littlefalcon. Hailstorm thought about this and said nothing.
Another crackle of lightning opened the sky, and Jaystrike leaned back, her tail alert. That was when Littlefalcon saw it: the tiny bundle of fur against the hard cedar roots. Sedgewhisker accepted the kit in her paws and began rubbing. Sunstrike turned towards Littlefalcon and beckoned. Birdfeather led the way.
"We'll need help keeping them warm," said Sunstrike. "Kestrelflight can protest all he wants, but I won't let you just stand there watching them die."
"Warmth is what you need?" Birdfeather's eyes lit up. "Let me help." She turned to Littlefalcon. "Can you keep some of the water away from here?"
"That's okay," said Skysong. Birdfeather blinked. "We're under the trees. The rain isn't as bad here if we block the kits with our bodies." The medicine cat of ThunderClan nodded and moved tentatively to Jaystrike's side. Ivychase cried, but Kestrelflight was calling encouragement again. Then Jaystrike turned around, and Birdfeather accepted the kit from her and bent to licking it. Littlefalcon took a few steps forward, his heart in his throat.
It was a tiny ball of fur, mewling.
"You rub it like this, watch," said Birdfeather, moving her paws gently and firmly over the kit's body. Her paws steamed against the air, and the kit mewed into open air, louder than the rain. Littlefalcon had never heard a more intense sound.
"It's okay!" said Birdfeather. "He's fine."
"He's lovely," said Skysong. Then Jaystrike was turning, her eyes wide, and Skysong rushed forward to take the kit. Littlefalcon watched his sisters work in unison. The kit in Skysong's paws was a she-cat, tiny and reddish like her mother. She was captivating.
"Make yourself useful," said Jaystrike suddenly, and Littlefalcon looked up as she dropped a she-kitten gently at his paws. "Copy them."
"One more!" called Kestrelflight. "You can do it, Ivychase!" But Littlefalcon suddenly bent to the task before him, licking his daughter's fur. She was the most beautiful cat he had ever seen, even though she was little more than a few tufts of wet golden fur. Littlefalcon's eyes welled up with tears as he recognized the kit-scent, and he knew. He knew who this was: Gingerkit.
"Well done, Ivychase!" Littlefalcon only looked up at that sound, when Jaystrike herself was bending over a fifth kit, and Ivychase leaned, exhausted, against the cedar roots. She was shuddering, cold.
"Here." Birdfeather leaned down and scooped the kit out of Littlefalcon's paws. "She needs her mother now."
Littlefalcon crept closer to Ivychase, and Sedgewhisker and Hailstorm moved aside to let him join them watching. Ivychase sighed against the tree, but she couldn't take her eyes off the tiny bundles of fur at her stomach. Neither could Littlefalcon.
They stood there in silence, and the storm rolled around them, but Littlefalcon couldn't even think or remember all the amazing things he knew. This was an experience of a cat without a destiny like Littlefalcon's, so he just lived it. Five kits suckled at Ivychase's belly, cold and wet and tiny but alive.
"There's no use moving them," said Kestrelflight. The medicine cat's eyes were tired. "But we should make Ivychase a real nest."
"We can help," said Skysong, and Birdfeather nodded. Jaystrike meowed in protest.
"StarClan says we're supposed to stay away from you," she said to Birdfeather. Turning her head, Birdfeather sighed. "And I believe them, after the Gathering."
That hurt, and Littlefalcon saw it.
"We can still help," said Skysong, lashing her tail. "You may not want us, but those are kits and their new mother. I thought you wanted to help Ivychase."
"Don't insult them," said Hailstorm, glaring. "They're doing what they think is right. And I don't like you being here, either. StarClan hates you."
"So be it," snapped Skysong. "We're helping. Come on, Birdfeather. Let's find moss."
"We should help, too," said Sedgewhisker to Hailstorm. She cast an uneasy glance at Littlefalcon as if not figuring out whether or not he belonged.
"Stay with her, Littlefalcon," said Sunstrike. The gentle warrior glared at Kestrelflight. "If Kestrelflight is mean to you, ignore him. You're the father of these beautiful kits, even if nobody else likes it. Be proud."
"Proud is pushing it," said Jaystrike. "Ashamed is more like it."
"Jaystrike." Sunstrike narrowed her eyes, and her daughter turned away, lashing her tail.
"You can stay," said Kestrelflight. "Ivychase is my priority."
Ivychase looked up at Littlefalcon, her eyes wide with all the words she didn't know how to say. Littlefalcon nodded in agreement.
"They're perfect," he told her. He bent over and licked the top of her head. "So are you."
"You'll take some to ThunderClan, like we agreed?" said Ivychase. Littlefalcon took a step back. Ivychase frowned prettily. "We agreed."
"They're yours," he said. "We don't have a nursing queen, anyways."
"They're ours," insisted Ivychase. She took a long look at them.
"No way." Jaystrike stepped forward, her claws sliding out. "Those are WindClan cats."
"You can't ask cats to fight against their littermates," said Kestrelflight. "I won't stand for it. They are WindClan."
"They are ThunderClan, too!" Ivychase snapped. "Why is that such a bad thing, to be both?"
Kestrelflight and Jaystrike stiffened to answer. Littlefalcon nodded.
"They're right," he said, but he knew Ivychase wouldn't listen. She was too stubborn. "Do you really want to give them up so badly?"
"Of course not." Ivychase stared at her kits. "They're all so beautiful. I love them."
"Then keep them," urged Littlefalcon. Ivychase watched their kits for a long time without speaking, and the rain tumbled down around them. They were protected by the branches of the cedar tree and little else.
"No," said Ivychase gently. "I want them to know that it's okay to not hate every cat. I want them to be brave enough to fight for their Clan when they have to, but to not blindly hate." She blinked up at her medicine cats and her mate. "It seems like everyone in the Clan hates and hates and does nothing else. What happened to the friendship we had on the journey? That wasn't so long ago."
"Everything you're saying is against the warrior code," said Littlefalcon.
"Then the warrior code makes us cruel," said Ivychase. "I don't care if anyone hates me for saying that. We shouldn't be fighting so viciously like this. I want my kits to grow up in ThunderClan, where at least nobody tries to murder a Clan leader."
"Then why don't you join them?" Kestrelflight asked coolly. Ivychase shook her head.
"Because WindClan is my home, and I love every cat here, even if they can't see what I can," she said. "But it's too vicious for kits."
"Keep them." Littlefalcon backed away slowly. She was too good. Too brave. She stood up for what was right and never backed down, and he was so in love with her in that moment that it hurt to walk away. He knew that he should let her go and knew that he wouldn't be able to.
"We'll split them, like we promised." Ivychase was insistent. She bent down and licked the fur on her kits' shoulders.
"But we don't have a nursing queen," said Littlefalcon.
"No?" Birdfeather and Skysong had come back, and were pushing moss around Ivychase. She purred her weary thanks. "Poppyfrost still has milk. Jayfeather and I have been stopping it, since Nightkit and Marshkit are too old."
"But – "
"Don't protest, Littlefalcon." Skysong's eyes gleamed. "If your mate says she wants you to have your kits, you do what she says."
"Yeah!" cried Ivychase. Littlefalcon hesitated. He knew how this would end. He knew he was supposed to take two of these kits, and that they would grow into brave ThunderClan warriors, while the other three would grow into brave WindClan warriors. It would be difficult for them, but they would love their Clans nonetheless. He wanted to change that future for them. They could all grow into brave WindClan warriors and be without worry about torn loyalties. None of them would wonder about their littermates. There would be no awkwardness between WindClan and ThunderClan, no strange torn alliance between the two Clans. But Ivychase was right – there would also be no forgiveness between them, either. He took a deep breath. Uniting the Clans in tentative friendship was what they had to do. So be it.
"Okay," he said. "If that's what you really want."
"It is." Ivychase's eyes glowed, and she turned to Kestrelflight. "You may not like it, but I don't care. It's my decision. Even if you take this to Whitestar, she'll recognize that. I'm giving WindClan three future warriors and my loyalty. If you stop me, you'll have none of that."
"It's your decision," said Kestrelflight, but his tone was disapproving. "It's your decision whether or not your kits grow up happy, or constantly having to worry about their Clan-mates not trusting their loyalty."
"WindClan will get over it," said Ivychase levelly. She turned to Littlefalcon and sniffed the air. "The storm is letting up."
"Sleep." Littlefalcon licked the top of her head. "I'll be here when you wake."
They sat there, an awkward huddle of resentful WindClan cats and uncomfortable ThunderClan cats, in a circle around the resting queen. The rain slowed, and the thunder stopped crashing overhead. After finishing Ivychase's nest, Sedgewhisker, Sunstrike, and Hailstorm headed back to WindClan camp to see if they could halt Whitestar before she marched on ThunderClan. Nobody mentioned a war.
"Jaystrike," said Birdfeather after a while, as the sun rose the next morning. "I want to talk to you."
"Sorry," said Jaystrike coldly. "StarClan says we're not to talk to you and Jayfeather anymore."
"You want to believe me," said Birdfeather insistently. Jaystrike and Kestrelflight both nodded.
"Of course I do," said Jaystrike. "You're my friend."
"Worry about it later," said Skysong softly. "This isn't the time for war negotiations." She glanced at Littlefalcon. "How are you doing?"
It was a kind question, really, but it felt condescending. Littlefalcon shrugged. Things were starting to settle the way they had before this whole kitting incident. He was remembering that he had made obligations and decisions. That he wouldn't be allowed to have this happy life for much longer. That there was a bigger picture he needed to constantly be thinking about.
"I want to talk about whatever went on between you and me," said Skysong. Seeing the tension in his shoulders, she frowned. "What's wrong?"
"Why do you want to talk about that?" said Littlefalcon. "I tried to steal your destiny. What's there to talk about?"
"How you did it."
Littlefalcon couldn't tell her that. It was too complicated, too painful. It would require a confession like he had given to Icecloud, so many nights ago. Yes, he had been lying to all of them about what he could do. He had taken Skysong's destiny away from her, or tried to – how could he help himself? He had wanted to be Littlestar, leader of ThunderClan, so he had taken that destiny for himself and forgotten all about it. And he had lived a life that so fully believed that it was his destiny. But it wasn't. He was never supposed to be the great leader of ThunderClan – Skysong was. She was the answer they had wanted all along. He had known that since he had become a warrior, but accepting it had taken far longer. They all thought he had been losing control of his powers? He had – he had been letting them go back to their rightful owners, all the while remembering his original powers. He was able to take their powers. He was able to know thoughts and desires. He was able to modify their memories, and his own.
"I'll explain when this is over," he said. "Don't worry."
"Why not now?" said Skysong.
"Because there's too much to explain now," said Littlefalcon. His ears twitched as Ivychase stirred. "Let me have these moments, okay?"
"Of course," said Skysong. "I'll be right by your side until the end."
Littlefalcon smiled at the thought. He wanted Skysong beside him.
She was already so far away from him.
Not if he didn't close her out.
Those options were long gone now.
"Hi," said Ivychase as she lazily opened her eyes. "The rain stopped."
"Yeah," said Littlefalcon. He nosed her ears. "You still want to do this?"
Ivychase watched the kits squirm at her belly, fighting over each other for her milk. Littlefalcon watched, too. Five kits: two toms and three she-cats in a startling parallel. The first-born was a big tom, red-pelted like his mother, but there was dark grey on his pelt, too. Littlefalcon's stomach churned as he saw the dark grey on his kit's paws, but he forced himself to relax. His kits would not have to worry about powers. Grey paws could be grey paws. He knew the first-born, too – Cedarkit. The second-born was bright red in color, already brilliant and fighting at her mother's belly, pushing aside her sisters and brothers. The third-born was Gingerkit: a light golden she-cat with the tiniest hint of tabby stripes already. The fourth-born was primarily golden, too, with red smudges all over his body. The smallest was dark grey, but already, her ears were reddish. This odd configuration of colors and shapes was the most beautiful set of kits Littlefalcon had ever seen. He wouldn't have to worry about missing his kits or meeting them in battle. He could guide them all.
"I do want to do this," said Ivychase. "Something is telling me that this is the right thing to do."
"It will make their lives hard," Littlefalcon reminded them. "And ours."
"I know that." Ivychase nodded thoughtfully. "Will you help me name them?"
She touched with her tail the big red tom, and Littlefalcon had the name ready.
"Cedarkit," he said instantly. Ivychase blinked, and Littlefalcon let himself glance around at the leaves that had kept her somewhat sheltered. "For protecting you."
"That makes sense." Ivychase laughed. "And how about Stormkit, for this one?" She nudged the bright red she-kit. "She's ferocious, just like the storm she was born in, don't you think?"
"I like it," said Littlefalcon. He smiled at Stormkit and Cedarkit, seeing in their places the cats they would become. Brave, beautiful warriors. "And the middle one is Gingerkit. Because of her pelt."
"That's so cute," murmured Jaystrike before she knew what she was saying. She recoiled, obviously embarrassed. Ivychase purred in the direction of the medicine cat apprentice. It was easy for them all to forget the war that was waging while they were in this perfect moment. "Okay, Gingerkit. And the others?"
Littlefalcon glanced at Birdfeather and Skysong over his shoulder as he thought. The flecks on the little tom's coat reminded him of something, and looking at Birdfeather, he realized what it was.
"Flamekit," he said. "Don't you think? The flecks on his pelt look like little flames."
"Yeah, they do," said Ivychase. She paused for a little while, looking over the last kit, the dark grey she-cat. "Floodkit."
"Floodkit." It was right, it was a good name. He nodded. "They're perfect." He had already said it, and he would say it so many times again. "They're all perfect."
"I know," said Ivychase. She beamed up at him. "See, it isn't right to make you leave them."
"It isn't right to make you leave any of them," murmured Littlefalcon.
"Stop trying to change my mind," said Ivychase. "You're taking two of our kits and raising them to be ThunderClan. I'm taking three of our kits and raising them to be WindClan. I'm sure."
"I'm sure, too," said Littlefalcon, and he was. He opened his mouth to speak more that he knew to be true: that Gingerkit and Cedarkit should come with him, and that the other three should stay beside Ivychase. Then, a chilling shiver of power passed over him. He remembered a dream long ago, where an older Gingerkit - Gingerflower had appeared to him and complained to him that Cedarkit would become Cedarstar, and she would not have her turn. There were two great leaders in this bundle of kits, and two Clans. So why couldn't Littlefalcon challenge fate?
"I'll take Gingerkit and Flamekit," he mumbled. "Does that sound okay?" He paused. "You can even say that Hailstorm is their father still."
"I won't do that," she said. "They'll know who their father is."
"If you're sure," said Littlefalcon, but Ivychase was already nodding. She glanced down at her kits, and Littlefalcon felt the power waver in the air. He felt fate changing. Now, in the back of his mind, he could see two great leaders: Gingerstar of ThunderClan and Cedarstar of WindClan. It was a perfect future, and one he wanted so desperately to see come about. He wanted to call his kits' names as they gained their nine lives. A twinge of pain entered Littlefalcon's heart, but he closed his eyes and let it pass.
"They're perfect, and you're perfect," he said again. "They'll be amazing."
"Mhmm," said Ivychase. Littlefalcon watched her watch the kits and felt for the first time in a long time what it meant to enjoy his life completely and entirely, without forgetting about the knowledge of the painful future ahead and how he would not be part of it.
This story is so dark. Like not even the happy moments are that happy.
I spent most of today writing, and I'm now done with up through Chapter 32. I know, that's impressive, right? I have to do a few things, but then I'll post another chapter after this one tonight. I'm so emotionally drained. I need to catch up on Willowshine/Hollyleaf so I don't spoil the ending of Hollyleaf's Retelling in writing the end of The Final Step...
If you liked this, have any questions, have any other comments, please let me know! Would love to hear from y'all 3 Thank you for your support!
~Elsi