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: The First Day

...

For the sake of her own sanity, Weaselstar decided against sleeping in the nursery. She knew, without a doubt, that Squirrelwhisker would throw a fit about it, and that wouldn't be fair to the others. She watched, from a distance, as cat after cat piled inside: Sweetshine and Squirrelwhisker in the very middle, covered in various kits. Next was Ratpaw and Bumblepaw, who comfortably sprawled together. Fogfur, Birchfoot, and Dovefrost squirmed into the edges, protecting their more vulnerable members.

A flash of blue caught her eye, and Weaselstar turned to see Dew slipping into the dismantled medicine cat den. She felt herself smile a little; regardless of what Dew thought of her or this idea, she was probably ecstatic to be sleeping alone again.

The cadence of familiar pawstep brought her eyes back to the warriors' den. Adderpelt gingerly stuck his head inside, then paused contemplatively. The black and white tom glanced over his shoulder, making eye contact with her. Weaselstar stood, patting the ground beside her invitingly. He looked at it, then her, then slowly shook his head and went inside.

Thorns pierced Weaselstar's heart. He must be so mad at me.

The longer she thought about it, the harder it was for Weaselstar to believe that her Clanmates had all come willingly, and without resentment. The newly-made ShadowClan cat slowly sank to the dusty ground, laying out on her side. Ratpaw wanted to get away from Smokescar. Bumblepaw's always supported him. But Dovefrost doesn't want any part in this- she only came because she wanted to retire of her own volition- and Birchfoot put his apprentices over his own beliefs. And Sweetshine... A sudden emptiness caved in her chest, leaving cold ash behind. Weaselstar couldn't help but wonder if she'd only come with to keep their kits happy.

She squeezed her eyelids shut to force out the burning sensation. What kind of leader am I gonna be, if this is the start of my legacy?

Morning arrived before Weaselstar wanted it to. The camp felt surprisingly empty without Beetooth's growl and Spiderstar's obnoxious laughter. It felt less like freedom and more like they were hiding, waiting for the perfect moment to strike. Dovefrost slipped out of camp without even a hello, taking Fogfur and Adderpelt on a hunting patrol. Weaselstar, ashamed she hadn't done any hunting of her own, set her tail over her nose and promised herself she wouldn't eat until they got back.

A soft weight on her side perked Weaselstar out of her doubt. Featherkit was getting bigger by the day, but while Elmkit grew in bulk and Spottedkit grew in stature, Featherkit seemed to gain a trunk's worth of legs in the two moons she'd been alive. She was gangly and awkward, with big ears and big legs attached to big paws. Her black fur was thick and plentiful. Honeykit was faring along the same lines, though his pelt was a bit sleeker. Every day, Weaselstar felt it was getting harder and harder to avoid the very real fact that they were half-siblings.

Maybe I'll tell them someday, she thought, as it hit Weaselstar that she could do so. Spiderstar couldn't punish her here. But not yet. Things are stressful enough as is. Maybe when they're 'paws, or maybe young warriors, I will. "What's up?"

Featherkit's ears flattened. "When are we going home?"

"Oh," meowed Weaselstar, immediately feeling awkward. She pulled Featherkit close, pressing a long lick to the center of her forehead. "This is our home now."

She made a face. "I don't like it. Everything's so squished!"

"It's not much to look at now, but we'll all fix it together." Dew's words came to mind again. Some cats just love fixer-uppers. Somehow, Weaselstar didn't think that necessarily applied to kits. "There's so much to see here, Featherkit. Did you hear the peepers last night? A few nights a season, the peepers croak the same time as the fireflies come out, and it's the prettiest thing. I think you'd like that."

"How am I gonna be a warrior?" Featherkit asked. "Grandpa can't give me a name here."

Weaselstar bumped their noses together. "That's my job now."

The black molly's eyes lit up. Her thick fur spiked out in excitement. "Oooh, oooh, can I get a super tough name, mama? I've always wanted a super tough name!"

"Anything," she promised, feeling her chest flutter with impatient glee. It hadn't occurred to her before that she would have the honor of giving cats their warrior names. It was terrifying and exhilarating in equal measure, and she couldn't imagine waiting for so long to give her own kits their names. There's so many to choose from! How will I even start?

"Weaselstar," meowed a new voice, taking her attention away from names entirely. Birchfoot dipped his head as he approached, his white paws stark in the morning dew. "I've found a place I think could make a good training spot for the kids, but it's going to need a little love. Do I have your permission to take someone with me? I'd rather not do it all by myself."

"I'll help," Weaselstar offered. Birchfoot went to argue, but she cut him off. "I'm not going to sit on my butt all day, Birchfoot. I'm a warrior too. I can help."

Featherkit grabbed onto her ankle with her paws. "No, don't go! I didn't get to see you all night!"

She glanced away, feeling a fresh wave of pain hit her. I've barely been in their lives so far. Weaselstar gently nudged Featherkit off of her, cleaning her cheeks with a sigh. Once the camp is fixed up, I'll never leave them again. "I'm sorry, feathers. Soon."

The tiny field tucked away in the trees sat near the old path, making it a decent hike for new apprentices, but one look told Weaselstar it was perfect. The dirt was tightly packed underpaw, and there was no stones nearby for 'paws to cut themselves on. Tiny flowers poked up here and there, giving it flavor.

Birchfoot caught her eyes and smiled, chest puffing out with pride. "I think it'll do alright." He pointed a paw towards the edge of the clearing, which led back into the trees. "There's a pretty big rock over there, but I think it'll be fine as long as he make sure to keep the grass low around it. Some patches of thistle here and there." He licked his chest fur sheepishly. "You know. The usual."

"Yeah," she echoed, feeling something warm in her chest. "Our own little meadow."

All at once, the air was knocked out of her as a solid body slammed into her back, sending her sprawling. Weaselstar heard a tiny "eep!" and then Ratpaw's familiar black pelt was at her side. "Weasel, I'm sorry! We were just playing." He gave Bumblepaw a solid shove, rolling her off. "You squished her, buzzy-brains!"

Bumblepaw stuck out her tongue. "You shoved me, monster-breath!"

"And that's why I wanted to clean the grass before they got here," meowed Birchfoot, whiskers quivering with good humor. "You alright?"

"I'm used to it," Weaselstar groused. "Two apprentices weigh about as much as five kittens."

They spent the afternoon weeding the field. It was about as much fun as it sounded. Plucking thistle after thistle, getting poked enough times Weaselstar half expected to start leaking water when she got her next drink. The weeds left little divots of dirt behind, which they did their best to smooth over with crumbly, sandy spots.

Ratpaw and Bumblepaw were given the task of cleaning the area around the stone- which Weaselstar personally thought was an even more boring task. The two 'paws spent ages carefully chewing the foliage down, revealing a rock about the size of a badger. It swept upwards slightly, ending in the slightest of points, with a flat ledge on the back. Bumblepaw tested the panel and it was perfectly suited to keeping a cat's weight.

"Could be a great vantage point," Birchfoot meowed. "When 'paws are one big ol' tumble, we might be able to spot and correct moves better."

Weaselstar nodded along while cleaning off a particularly prickled paw. It honestly hadn't even occurred to her. I need to learn how to teach, and fast. "Thank you, Birchfoot. For doing all this."

"I like helping," he responded with a shrug. "I really want Bumblepaw and Ratpaw to succeed. I know they can do that here."

An idea came to her, then. Weaselstar knew today hadn't exactly been exhilarating, and she knew that this kind of tedious work would become a new normal for them all as they rebuilt and relearned how to live as a Clan. She thought it might be especially hard for them, since Ratpaw and Bumblepaw would be the first 'paws in many seasons of ThunderClan to take care of elders. So why not give them a little reward for their efforts?

Tail curling with badly-contained excitement, Weaselstar called them over. "You did a great job today, kids. How would you like to be the first ones to mark the territory lines?"

Ratpaw's jaw dropped. "Really? Us?"

"Really. There's still some daylight left, and I wanted to do some patrolling as it is." Weaselstar didn't know, exactly, where the new boundary lines would lay, but she had a good idea of where to start. The Thunderpath was a solid line to separate ThunderClan and ShadowClan. "How about it?"

Bumblepaw gave a little bounce. "Uh, duh?" The dark gray tabby gave the tom a solid shove and took off towards the trees. "Race you!"

"Hey! No fair!" Ratpaw cried, giving chase.

Birchfoot and Weaselstar exchanged a glance. She worked her claws into the dirt.

"Last one there is roadkill?" Weaselstar prompted.

The warrior grinned. "Thought you'd never ask."

Author's Note: Bit of a boring chapter, but next time we'll be meeting a new friend, so look forward to that! It feels really important to me to highlight that the way Weaselstar parents has changed as well, putting her Clan above her own kits, and that will one day affect the relationship she has with them. Especially Elmkit.

For the worried fella wondering if i'm still working on Brightfur- I am! I have the next chapter in my docs as we speak. I've also recently been given a new, more interesting way to portray what's coming next. The end of the second story is a doozy.

-Mandaree1