Wowzers, this fic is really long. I've never written one this long before.
Which brings me to yet another one of my dilemmas… When should it end? Or rather, how long should it last?
I can't decide whether or not to draw out Icestar's leadership or just head straight to the spectacular finish. After reading Bluestar's Prophecy I feel like I really ought to draw it out a little longer, explore every step of the way, all of that stuff. But on the other hand, I could be approaching 100 chapters if I really wanted to stick it out through the entire nine lives of a normal leader.
So help me: I've come this far, should I just keep right on going and describe every season of Icestar's time as a leader in nice, Warriors-fashion detail?
Or, should I cut right to the chase and just end the story already?
DECISIONS, DECISIONS….
A crowd had gathered outside the nursery. Nearly every warrior of ThunderClan was present, including Icestar and her new deputy Thrushwing, who was pacing outside the gorse shelter, her paws wearing trails in the dust.
"We're going to be late to the Gathering," Tansyleaf pointed out, waving her tail in the direction of the nursery. A muffled whimper sounded from the den, and Thrushwing paused for a moment, her tortoiseshell pelt bristling.
"It's almost over," came a wheezing mew. Icestar turned to watch as Shortwhisker pushed through the fern wall protecting the medicine clearing. His tail twitched in amusement as he padded closer to the anxious crowd.
"Shouldn't you be helping?" questioned Owlpaw curiously, his gaze flickering between the old medicine cat and the nursery, where a high, reedy whine lifted through the brambles.
Shortwhisker twitched his whiskers and replied in a gruff meow, "I checked in earlier, and everything is going smoothly, so I thought I'd let Sparrowtail do this on her own. She needs to learn to act by herself in a tense situation, because I won't be around forever to guide her." A wistful light entered his eyes, and Owlpaw flashed an anxious glance at his mentor Stonepelt.
Stonepelt leaned down and meowed, "Shortwhisker is one of the oldest cats in the Clan – someday he'll join his warrior ancestors in Silverpelt. Then Sparrowtail will take on full responsibility as a medicine cat."
"I know," snapped Owlpaw, "I was just worried." He turned away, his pelt ruffled.
"If those kits don't arrive soon, we'll have to leave before they do," Eagleclaw meowed. "We don't want the other Clans to start without us, especially when we have so much news to share." She turned pointedly to Icestar, who shrugged.
"The Gathering can wait," she meowed. "These are the first kits born in ThunderClan in many moons. It's important we're all here to welcome them."
Icestar felt Eagleclaw's skeptical gaze on her pelt as she looked away. The she-cat had a right to be surprised. Besides acting differently, Icestar felt different after the nine lives ceremony. The golden tabby warrior would surely have noticed by now, after Icestar had been leader for a few days.
As she looked around the camp, waiting to hear the shrill mewl of a newborn kit, Icestar surveyed the work of the past few days. One of the first tasks she's set the warriors was fortifying the damaged camp wall and rebuilding some of the dens. Already the ThunderClan camp looked infinitely better – they had even expanded the warriors' den in anticipation of the new life to come during green-leaf.
There was still one worry nagging at Icestar's pelt like a thorn, and it was especially strong as she sat here, watching Ashfoot duck in and out of the nursery carrying moss for his mate. ThunderClan, aside from being short on warriors in general, had only two toms eligible to father kits, Shortwhisker being devoted to the life of a medicine cat. Ashfoot and Robinwing were about to be caring for a bundle of soon-to-be warriors, but it was Stonepelt that made Icestar anxious.
Everyone in the Clan was aware of his attentions toward her, which hadn't ceased even once she had been named leader. Though he no longer shared a den with her, since she'd moved into the den below the Highrock, he still managed to spend as much time with her as proper etiquette allowed. Every patrol she led he found some way to tag along; every time she took Redpaw out for training, he claimed Owlpaw would make a good training partner and followed. She enjoyed his company as much as the next cat's, but even the mere thought of returning his affections sent her pelt prickling. She just didn't seem him that way – at all.
All of this unfortunately left the white she-cat in an extremely uncomfortable predicament. First and foremost, it was inconvenient, to say the least, for a leader to bear kits. She would have to spend a lot of time in the nursery instead of organizing patrols, fighting battles and attending Gatherings. Another queen could always stand in for her as a mother, but Icestar winced at the idea of bearing kits and then abandoning them to another she-cat's care. Her eighth life made sure that she experienced the burn of that kind of pain as soon as the thought occurred to her.
No, having Stonepelt's kits now just wouldn't do. Either she would have to gently persuade him to pad after someone else, at least for a while and for the good of the Clan, or she would have to resort to more drastic measures. ThunderClan wouldn't survive many more seasons with so few able paws.
The first squeal sounded from the nursery, followed by a raucous cheer from the waiting cats. A moment later, Sparrowtail came rocketing out of the nursery, a tiny gray tom kit dangling from her jaws.
"Ashfoot!" she called after placing the mewling creature on the ground. "Lick him and keep him warm!" She turned to Shortwhisker and beamed. "My first kit!" she purred, sounding all the world like a proud queen. Then she darted back into the shadows of the nursery. Ashfoot had snatched up his son and was licking the small bundle vigorously, tucking it between his paws to keep it warm from the chill air.
"Don't pull out his fur, Ashfoot," scolded Quickstep, nudging the tabby tom's shoulder. He barely acknowledged her, but his tongue softened against the kit's pelt.
"Number two!" Sparrowtail crowed, dropping a second, black- and white-patched tom kit at Ashfoot's paws. The warrior looked up from the first tom, his eyes wild, and glanced around.
"Another one?" he mewed, gazing frantically between the two kits.
"Toms," grumbled Thrushwing, stepping forward to nudge the black and white kit towards her. She began to rhythmically lick its spine, her tail sweeping back and forth against the dust.
"Last one," meowed Sparrowtail around a mouthful of fur, marching out the nursery with the ruff of a pale gray she-kit grasped carefully between her teeth. This kit she merely swung in front of Ashfoot before beckoning at the others with her tail.
"Bring them all back inside," ordered Shortwhisker, taking the gray tom from Ashfoot and nodding to Thrushwing. They traipsed into the shelter of the den, and a moment later Icestar heard swift whispers being exchanged. Then Shortwhisker reappeared, his eyes twinkling.
"They have names," he mewed, arching his brow at Ashfoot. The tabby stared at him with rapt attention, waiting.
"The little gray tom is named Smallkit, the other tom Patchkit, and the she-kit Graykit," Shortwhisker announced calmly, his tail swinging back and forth over his head.
Ashfoot stood up straighter and lifted his chin. "Good names," he meowed matter-of-factly, "for good warriors."
"And now," announced Icestar loudly, getting to her feet, "we are late for the Gathering. Thrushwing, Whitefoot, Owlpaw, Eagleclaw, Tansyleaf, Redpaw and Yellowstripe, follow me. Swiftly now." The white she-cat turned and raced out of the gorse tunnel, listening for the thud of the warriors' paws behind her. The moon had just barely reach its highest point, and hopefully the other Clan leaders would wait at least a little while for their arrival.
The ThunderClan patrol made their way quickly through the darkening forest, sliding through the undergrowth like shadows. Though the air was cold, it tasted of the sweetness of new life: new green shoots, young prey, and newborn kits. All around her, Icestar could scent and feel her Clanmates. Thrushwing's light pawsteps hummed on her left, becoming more familiar as she spent more time with the newly appointed deputy. The heavier padding of Owlpaw, grown beyond his young kit self and already looking more like a warrior. Redpaw and Eagleclaw raced close behind her, their scents both familiar and comforting.
"We're not the last to arrive," Eagleclaw whispered as they neared the hollow. Icestar slowed and waved her tail for the other cats to follow suit. Eagleclaw's nose was the best in the Clan, and she didn't doubt the she-cats proclamation.
"Who else is there?" she breathed to the golden tabby, apprehension pricking at her pads. Why would another Clan be as late as they were? It was already past moonhigh.
"WindClan is missing," Eagleclaw meowed.
Though Icestar felt uneasy, there was no use waiting longer for the other Clan to arrive. She signaled for the ThunderClan patrol to move forward, and drew herself up tall as they cleared the woods and flowed over the lip of the hollow.
Fourtrees was resplendent in the bright moonlight, the distant branches silhouetted against the rich blue sky. Icestar found her gaze lingering on the smattering of glittering stars, wondering for a brief moment if the warriors of StarClan were truly watching her from so far away.
"Icefang? Glad you could join us," said Toadstar with a sneer, staring down at the ThunderClan from the Great Rock. "And where is your graceful leader?"
A moment passed before the ThunderClan patrol exploded into a series of angry hisses and yowls. Toadstar actually jerked back as if struck by a snake, his eyes widening. "Relax," Icestar growled to the warriors. "I'll explain everything to them in a moment." She left Thrushwing to calm down the bristling cats, and threaded her way through the gathered crowd of RiverClan and ShadowClan warriors to the Great Rock. Already she could hear whispered speculations surrounding her as she walked.
Suddenly a warm pelt brushed against hers. Startled, Icestar skittered sideways. She lifted her lip to snarl at the overly forward warrior, and then the scent struck the roof of her mouth in a strong wave.
"Eelshadow?" she grunted, narrowing her eyes at the black tom, who was eyeing her back.
"Icestar?" he replied, a hint of laughter bubbling beneath his smooth voice. He flicked his tail across her nose once before slipping away, leaving Icestar gazing after him in bewilderment. How did he know her new name?
"What's going on here?" Toadstar growled, his voice bringing Icestar swiftly back to reality. She shook off the shock of Eelshadow's greeting and bounded the rest of the way to the rock, leaping up to sit beside Floodstar. He was sitting primly with his tail tucked around his small paws, silent but obviously as eager as Toadstar to hear her explanation.
"Where is WindClan?" Icestar yowled, looking around before beginning. She didn't want to have the repeat the story.
"Here!" came an answering cry, and a moment later Guststar led the WindClan patrol into the hollow.
"Late," grumbled Toadstar, his tail lashing.
"My apologies," meowed Guststar, clambering onto the Great Rock. "It has been a busy day."
"For ThunderClan as well," added Icestar with a chuckle. The three other leaders blinked at her in confusion, Toadstar's expression particularly sour.
"I imagine it's time I explained," Icestar sighed. She stepped forward and called the customary greeting, ignoring the murmurings behind her.
"Welcome, cats of all Clans," she called, nodding to the crowd. "I stand before you all today not as a warrior, or as a deputy, but as the new leader of ThunderClan."
Pelts rustled and exclamations of surprise echoed through the clearing. Icestar tried in vain to search out Eelshadow's face in the sea of whiskers and ears, wanting to catch his expression, but he blended in too well with the rest of the warriors.
"As you know, ThunderClan and RiverClan-" she cast a pointed glance at Toadstar, who lifted his chin and looked away, "have recently aided WindClan in driving out a pack of dangerous dogs. To the dismay of many, Cinderstar lost his last life to the churning waters of the river, and I have been approved by StarClan to take his place."
"I was aware that Cinderstar had been wounded," Floodstar meowed, "but was not informed that he had joined the ranks of our starry ancestors. This is a terrible sorrow. He was a formidable leader, and the forest will miss his presence."
"I too must express my most heartfelt sympathies," mewed Guststar, appearing suddenly tired and worn. "I cannot help but feel that his death is partly my fault, for having to fall back on the generosity of other Clans to help my own."
Toadstar curled his lip in a sneer, seeming to agree with the tabby leader, but Icestar turned her back on him and dipped her head to both Guststar and Floodstar.
"Thank you for your sympathies," she meowed, "but please, it is no fault of yours, Guststar. Cinderstar was old and his heart was tired – he was prepared to make his last journey, and died peacefully."
Guststar nodded, her whiskers limp, but she seemed mollified.
"Is that all?" grumbled Toadstar, his tail whipping back and forth in obvious agitation.
Icestar glanced at him and frowned. She hadn't realized how incredibly rude the gray tom was. He was always irritable, but standing on the Great Rock beside him and having to listen to all his snorts and hisses made her hate him even more.
"No," she replied frostily, raising her chin and glaring at him fiercely. "I have more to say."
Brushing past him, Icestar moved closer to the edge of the rock, her gaze searching the crowd for Yellowstripe's distinctive pelt. "We have a new warrior!" she yowled, meeting the she-cats pale gaze and flicking her ears in acknowledgement. "Yellowstripe!"
"Yellowstripe! Yellowstripe!" chanted the warriors below; Eagleclaw's voice was still the loudest. Icestar watched with distaste as a few ShadowClan warriors remained silent, their eyes narrowed in Yellowstripe's direction. What was it with that Clan? Why were they always so secretive and bad-tempered? Was it really just the cold wind that chilled their hearts, or did they enjoy being despised by all the other Clans?
"We were late this evening because ThunderClan has also very recently welcomed a new litter of kits, born to Robinwing."
A chorus of halfhearted meows sounded from the clearing below, mostly ThunderClan warriors and a few from WindClan, who had become less hostile toward the forest Clan after they helped chase away the menacing Twoleg dogs.
"That is all," Icestar finished finally, snapping a venomous glance at Toadstar as she paced back to her place beside Floodstar. The black tom murmured a quick congratulations before bounding forward to make his own announcements.
"The water in the river is rising," he meowed gravely. "Just today the river reached the edges of our camp, submerging much of the island. Though our dens remain dry, it may only be a matter of time before the river breaks its banks. We must warn all cats to stay clear of the fast flowing water – if you fall in, you will not be climbing out. We must pray to StarClan that this flood does not reach our camp."
He turned away without another word, ignoring some shocked yowls from ThunderClan and WindClan warriors. As always, ShadowClan remained silent. It seemed they cared little for the affairs of the other Clans. The rising levels of the river were of no concern to them, except maybe an advantage for attacking RiverClan while they were so vulnerable.
Now Toadstar made his way to the front of the Great Rock. His voice, sounding as slimy as his namesake, made Icestar's pelt prickle.
"ShadowClan is flourishing," he drawled. "The prey runs well on our side of the forest." He cast a pointed glare at Icestar, but she turned her head and ignored him. He spoke more about the conditions of the forest and the strength of his warriors, but had little else important to say.
"WindClan too his doing well, having recovered from the hardships of leaf-bare. Thanks to ThunderClan and RiverClan, we are free from the dogs that were ravaging our camp." Guststar stepped forward to make her speech. "Every warrior in my Clan is grateful for your help," she mewed, "but we would like to make it clear that WindClan is still strong. We may have lost much, but we are fully recovered." Her bright gaze seemed fixed on the group of slick-pelted RiverClan warriors, who glanced at each other uncomfortably. Icestar guessed there must have been some sort of skirmish over prey or territory between the two Clans.
"In addition," Guststar yowled, her voice suddenly becoming sad, "we regret to announce the death of Russetstripe, my loyal deputy and friend for many moons. He sustained an injury during a conflict with one of the dogs, and was unable to recover. We mourn his passing, but are also proud to announce that Swiftfoot will be taking his place as the deputy of WindClan."
A louder cheer sounded throughout the clearing, the voices of ThunderClan, RiverClan, and WindClan joining in a powerful din. Swiftfoot was well liked by all the Clans, and it was about time that he take his rightful place at the foot of the Great Rock. He had been acting as a sort of co-deputy for moons, balancing out Russetstripe's volatile personality.
When the leaders had finished speaking, they leaped down from the Great Rock to mingle with the rest of the warriors. It was customary to share tongues after the speeches at a Gathering, though the practice was often skipped because of weather or other pressing matters. With the coming of new-leaf, a warm breeze was blowing gently through the trees, and all of the Clans seemed relatively at peace, so Icestar indicated for her warriors to settle down for a while and interact with the other Clans.
"Remember," she mewed to Redpaw and Owlpaw as she passed them, crouched in a circle of other apprentices, "don't share any information that might give the other warriors an advantage in battle."
"We know!" they chorused, eagerly scooting closer into the circle. Icestar lingered a moment to listen, smiling as a tabby RiverClan apprentice told an embellished tale of his battle with a large rat.
"Nostalgic?" came a slithering whisper. Icestar paused to let the fur of her ruff lie flat before turning around to face the speaker.
"Always a little bit," she replied smoothly, eyeing Eelshadow as he brushed past her flank, his tail curling over her shoulders.
"Not wishing for the soft life, are we?" he meowed, masking his sinister tone with a playful grin. His bright blue eyes sparkled, stunning against the night-black color of his oily pelt.
"Careful," mewed the white she-cat icily, her eyes grave, "You're messing with the leader of ThunderClan now."
"So I heard," he whispered, though of course he had already known who she was when she arrived. "How does it feel, Icestar?" His whiskers quivered as he curled behind her and padded up to her other side, his head cocked.
"Different," she replied vaguely, annoyed with his probing.
The black tom nodded sagely, as if he knew exactly what she was talking about. For a brief moment, Icestar wondered if he did.
"Well, I guess congratulations are in order," he purred, slowly dipping his head to her.
"That's more like it," she growled, a hint of a smile playing at the edge of her muzzle. "Bow before my superior grace and intelligence, lowly fish-faced warrior."
Eelshadow growled playfully, whisking his tail. "Don't use the f-word, it's terribly unflattering." Then he straightened suddenly and his expression grew somber. Icestar hesitated, startled by his sudden mood change. "Do you…" he murmured tentatively, his gaze achingly desperate, "do you really think my face looks like a fish?" He twisted his mouth in a garish impersonation and made a hacking sound in the back of his throat.
Icestar flinched, frightened for a moment, and then burst into a loud bark of laughter. Redpaw turned from where she was sitting with the apprentices, her eyes sharp. Her gaze flashed from her mentor to the black RiverClan tom faster than a darting flea, taking in the entire scene. Then she rolled her eyes and snapped, "Keep it down, some of us are picking up useful battle techniques over here." She gave Eelshadow one last appraising glance before turning her attention back to the apprentices.
Eelshadow was staring at her in surprise. "Is that your apprentice?" he asked curiously, his tone no longer joking.
"Yes," grumbled Icestar. She was bothered by Redpaw's rude comment. Even if she and Eelshadow were being disruptive, it wasn't her apprentice's place to shush her, especially in such a public environment where cats from other Clans were watching and assessing them at every pawstep. Such insubordination could be taken to show that Icestar couldn't even keep her own apprentice in line, nonetheless organize any attacks. "I still have a lot of work to do."
Eelshadow nodded in agreement, his claws kneading the mossy floor of the clearing. After a moment he turned back to her and settled his haunches down, curling his tail over his paws. Icestar did she same, watching him attentively.
"She's very beautiful," he commented, flicking his tail in Redpaw's direction. "I've never seen such a richly colored pelt."
Icestar was surprised by the fury that boiled inside her at his words. Why am I angry? she asked herself in astonishment, but there was no other explanation for the bristling of her pelt and the clenching of her claws.
"I suppose," she replied in a tight voice, feeling suddenly very small and useless.
Eelshadow blinked twice and shrugged. "But obviously," he meowed in a low, quiet voice, "you're the most beautiful she-cat in all the Clans."
A moment of tense silence hung between them as both warriors stared at each other, measuring the other's reactions. This is fox-brained, Icestar hissed to herself. Get out while you still can! But another part of her brain seemed to be overriding all sense of reason, urging her to step forward and press her nose against his cheek, drink in his familiar scent and spend the rest of her days by his side. This cat has evil in him, she tried to convince herself, but the depths of his blue eyes seemed to hold nothing but truth.
Making a desperate attempt to fend off the ridiculous images tangled in her mind, Icestar muttered, "You're a RiverClan warrior. I'm leader of ThunderClan. This is very, very wrong."
Eelshadow didn't seem to disagree, instead turning his eyes to the night sky and whispering, "Cloudless. StarClan is smiling on us." He looked back at her and blinked again. "You don't have to give up your Clan for me, Icestar," he mewed solemnly. "But that doesn't mean we can't enjoy each other's company." He stepped closer to her and flopped onto his side, flicking his head toward a patch of soft moss beside him. Icestar reluctantly dropped to the ground, aware of the warm brush of his belly fur against her spine. She shivered as his tongue began to move rhythmically against her pelt. They looked as innocent as any of the many groups of cats sprawled in the clearing, sharing tongues and telling stories.
Tansyleaf and Whitefoot were curled in the company of a group of WindClan cats, bathing their heather-scented fur without a second thought. Thrushwing was even swapping tales with some ShadowClan warriors while a ShadowClan queen lapped at her shoulders. No one would give them a second glance.
"We could never see each other without our Clans taking notice," Icestar whispered, keeping her voice down as a pair of WindClan cats trotted past, speaking in high-pitched murmurs.
"We would make it work," Eelshadow whispered between licks. Icestar's tail curled against her legs, the tip twitching anxiously.
Part of her wanted so badly for his words to be a comfort. To forget about being a leader, even a warrior, and just lie in the sun with Eelshadow's pelt pressed close to hers, his scent wreathed around her nose, his tail twined with hers.
No! The sudden violent retaliation within her actually made her paws twitch. It was like two halves of her mind were at war with another, and it was extraordinarily disconcerting. This cannot be, she thought to herself vehemently. Eelshadow is nothing to me, nothing. Only a tool.
Something tickled at her pads. Icestar glanced down – no beetle crawled by, no flea was working its way through her pelt, no wind whistled through the clearing. But the feeling remained, spreading slowly, creeping up her legs. It was cold, deadening cold, as though she were padding through a snowdrift in the middle of leaf-bare. For a moment, panic flared in Icestar's chest as she remembered the paralyzing cold that had frozen her during her dream with StarClan, but as she rolled her paws and swiveled her head, she was relieved to find that it wasn't the same. It took another moment for Icestar to realize what the feeling reminded her of.
This is it, she thought with a sense of astonishment. This is the weight that I left behind after my meeting with StarClan. She remembered it now, vividly: the icy clarity, the frozen mask, and the sharp cold that deadened her heartbeat and quickened her breath. But as the sensation made its way further through her body, reaching her chest, where it constricted painfully and squeezed the breath from her lungs, a sudden, desperate fear gripped her. I don't want this any more! She growled, fighting back the urge to leap up shake it off like a spider.
"It is part of you, Icestar." The voices set Icestar's pelt on end. They were equally as sinister as they were gentle and calming, a harmony of many tones and accents. StarClan.
How can this be part of me? She asked them, glancing surreptitiously around the clearing. The Clans were still here, resting in the shelter of the clearing, every one of the cats oblivious to her silent conversation. As she turned her head, she thought she saw a flash of orange tabby fur, speckled with stars, at the base of the Great Rock, but when she focused, it was gone. Frostfire? She questioned, narrowing her eyes.
"Ice and fire exist as one," crowed the voices, thunderously loud in her head. Eelshadow was still licking her, his ears twisting around to pick up the sounds from the surrounding cats, but he displayed no signs of having heard even a whisper.
What do you mean? She thought, feeling slightly foolish at talking to a figment of her own imagination.
"Ice burns as well as fire," the voices replied enigmatically. "They are one and the same."
Is this some sort of prophecy to freak me out? She growled, her tail lashing.
"Icestar? Is something bothering you?"
Eelshadow's curious meow made Icestar flinch. She turned to look at him, taking a moment to focus on his concerned expression.
"Can I trust you?" she blurted suddenly, instantly regretting it. In the confusion she'd spat the first desperate thought that entered her mind. She could feel cold tongues of frost licking at her neck, working their way through her, but she tried to ignore the disturbing feeling and focus on Eelshadow instead.
The black tom remained calm as she gazed at him intently. His tail twitched, and he gave her spine one last lick before rising to his feet and taking a step away. Icestar scrambled to her paws, meaning to follow, but he didn't leave.
"Of course not," he meowed after a moment, his voice even, back to its usual emotionless tone. "You can't trust anyone." Then he melted away, leaving her standing with her mouth open, unsure whether or not she should call him back.
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DAMN that was a long chapter. *Huggles self, then huggles Icestar* I love this story :D