Disclaimer: I don't own the Warriors series

Title: Red Pearls

Summary: Brightfur just wanted to be a medicine cat. Her mentor, Ravenwind, has very different ideas on what that means- for her and for ShadowClan. With Ravenwind controlling her every move and more than willing to kill to keep it that way, Brightfur will need more than just luck to live to tell the tale.

Chapter Title: Do I look like her?

Warnings: Vomit, drugging, murder. I'm mostly adding this for the vomit part, though; that's not nearly as common in the warriors-verse.

...

"I need to talk to you."

Brackenclaw was halfway through bending down to grab a squirrel, jaws open. He clicked his teeth shut and straightened, tail-tip twitching. "Can this wait? I'm kind of busy."

"No." Brightfur shook her head. She'd been trying to corner her brother the past half-moon, but he'd just kept wriggling out of it. She was getting desperate at this point. "You're not a mouse-brain, Brackenclaw. You know what this is about."

He flicked her stern words away with an ear. His face was passive and blank. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"Clover's pregnant with your kits," she extrapolated. Brackenclaw flinched- and Brightfur, smelling the metaphorical blood, leaned in. "She's not here, is she? Like, in the territory?"

"Does it matter?" Brackenclaw replied, sounding absolutely exhausted.

"She's a rogue. On ShadowClan land."

"It's complicated," he rebuffed. "I'm working on convincing her to join us. I dunno what's going on in that Twolegplace, but it sounds like ShadowClan is safer than any kittypet den."

If only he knew. Brightfur took a step forward, crushing the squirrel's spine under her paw. Her eyes were wide and intense. "You need to get her out. Now."

Brackenclaw blinked at her, baffled. "What? Why? Smithy doesn't know-"

"I don't give a rat's ass about Smithy," she spat. "If Ravenwind finds out about this, you have no idea what you'll be unleashing."

"Seriously? You're worried about your mentor's approval?" The tabby rolled his eyes. "Grow up, Brightfur. You're two seasons old."

"She needs to get out before they come," Brightfur insisted, feeling a dawning sense of horror wash down her spine as her brother stiffened. "Are you serious? She's nursing and you're-"

"I'm handling it!" he snapped at her. "What do you know about relationships, anyway? You're a medicine cat!"

"Brackenclaw, please. Listen to me," she pleaded. Brackenclaw hesitantly met her eye. "If you've ever trusted me before in your life, trust me now. Get. Her. Out of here. She and the kits are in massive danger; more than she'd be in the Twolegplace. I can't explain why or you'll be in danger, but I'm not saying this lightly. There's scarier things than Smithy out there."

The warrior stared at her a long moment, as if searching for something in her expression. Brightfur prayed he'd find it. His jowls parted to speak, but he was cut off by a mournful wail. "Flowerstrike, no!" Brightfur flinched, head twisting around. Fallingfeather poked her dark head out of the elder's den, ears flat. "Brightfur, hurry! He's seizing."

Brackenclaw shook her warnings off with a lash of his tail. "It sounds like they need you," he murmured quietly, bending back down to tug the squirrel out from under her paw. "And they need me right now. We'll talk about this later, okay?"

She didn't get the opportunity to answer. The black molly was insistently jabbing her away from him, twisting her paws around and away. Brightfur tried to watch him leave camp but didn't get the chance before plunging into the comforting darkness of the elder's den. "What can I- oh." Her fur rose along her spine as Flowerstrike's meager form gave one last rough shake before falling still. The scent of death was practically dripping off her tongue. "Fallingfeather, he's-"

"Can't you do anything?" she demanded, amber eyes blazing. "You couldn't save Flowerpaw, and you can't save him. What kind of medicine cat are you?"

Brightfur winced but didn't falter. "He's dead. I can't bring someone back from the dead. What do you want me to say?"

"Fallingfeather," chided Stonebreeze, putting a paw on Flowerstrike's dusty coat. "Brightfur's done all she can to keep him happy and comfortable. He was an old man." He carefully dipped underneath the black and white tom's corpse, pulling an arm over his shoulder. "Help me get him to the medicine den. He needs burial herbs."

The elder flopped into the middle of the clearing with a pathetic thunk. Brightfur tried not to feel too judged as ShadowClan gathered around; Flowerstrike had been an elder before she was born, but his mortality had been hovering around camp like a cloud the past few moons. She'd given him endless herbs, endless amounts of fresh-kill, yet the weight kept dropping off his bones and he slowly started sleeping more and more. They'd all known it was a matter of time.

Slatestar took her place by the elder's head, looking for all the world like she was heartbeats from falling asleep. Deep, dark bags clung to her eyelids. Dewpaw plopped down beside her, glancing warily at the corpse. His paws reeked of burial herbs, just as hers did. Maplenose was grooming Antpaw with quick flicks of her tongue, the apprentice finally strong and sleek after her run-in with illness. Willowthorn was sharing a story with Tigercloud, the two mollies stifling laughter at Flowerstrike's antics. Hazelpaw was asking for hunting tips from Barkfall. Badgerthroat and Rainblaze were muttering about scents over the border- the typical Greenleaf squabble. Addershine, Hawkflower, and Briarspots were sharing a quick breakfast.

I should feel sad, she reminded herself, taking her eyes off the congregation to look at Flowerstrike. The elder had endless wisdom and countless stories- the same as any old feline- yet Brightfur found herself struggling to recall the last time she'd spoken to him beyond "Here is X for Y, take it easy." or saying "Whoops! My bad!" when she bumped into him. Maybe it was foolish of her to assume she'd be close to someone so much older than her. Maybe she was foolish to have not fought harder for that dynamic.

Brightfur knew she should be grieving, but all she felt was relief. Her limbs trembled under the freeing of that responsibility. Ravenwind never got this one.

A black tail-tip flickered in the corner of her eye, and she turned to see Smokestripe at the entrance of the medicine den with a vole. Her mother's whiskers twitched with sheepish intent. Brightfur gently nudged Dewpaw and stood, padding over to meet her. She nuzzled the molly close and breathed in her familiar scent.

"Hey, mom," she whispered.

"Hey," she returned, licking her scruff. "Was that Brackenclaw you were talking to?"

Brightfur shrugged and laid down, accepting the fresh-kill. "It wasn't anything important."

"He's been pretty moony lately. Do you think he's padding after someone?" Smokestripe's gaze swept the crowd while Brightfur took a bite, nose wrinkling at the sharp taste. She kept eating; just because it was close to rotting didn't make it any less rude to refuse. "There's no one really his age around camp."

"Maybe he's meeting someone on the border."

"Don't be silly- Brackenclaw would've convinced them to move to ShadowClan by now." She rolled her eyes. "I don't know where he got that loyalty bug from."

"Grandpa," Brightfur offered, crunching a bone between her teeth. "There's cats more stubborn than he is, you know."

Smokestripe snorted. "I've yet to meet them!"

She swallowed in lieu of a response. She wasn't sure how to broach the topic of mates with her mother, being a medicine cat and all- she was supposed to be removed from such conflicts. "Thanks for the fresh-kill, mom. I didn't realize how hungry I was."

"Don't thank me," Smokestripe meowed cheerfully. "Thank your mentor. She's the one who gave it to me."

Brightfur froze. The sharp flavor on her tongue was familiar now, creeping down the back of her throat. How could I be so stupid? Rotten fresh-kill with no maggots? Some cats had difficulties with getting themselves to vomit, requiring yarrow. Those cats hadn't been force-fed herbs as a kitten. She turned and threw up on Smokestripe's paws, yellow shoulders rattling as they bunched up. Smokestripe yelped and started to pat her on the back.

"Sweetie?" Smokestripe asked, confused and a little scared. "Brightfur, what is-"

"You need to throw up!" she blurted out. Brightfur could only imagine what her mother had ingested bringing it over. She pushed her muzzle closer to her mother's face, eyes shiny and fearful. "Please, mom! Before it's too late!"

"What do you mean? I'm fine, Brightfur, there's nothing-"

Brightfur felt the world take a twist to the left. She stumbled backwards, fumbling for the fresh-kill. She sliced open the vole's stomach with a sloppy movement of her foreleg, watching with watery eyes as the innards fell into the sick. She could just barely make out the dark specks hidden amongst the meat. Foxglove, or poppy? Brightfur swayed a little, suddenly exhausted. Poppy. Definitely poppy. "You needa throw up, and then you gotta get Slatestar. Mom, promise me."

Smokestripe was staring at her now. "Brightfur, you're not making any sense. What's gotten into you?"

She giggled deliriously, nauseous. "Poppy seeds," Brightfur meowed. She tried to tuck her paws under her and failed, sprawling out in the vomit. The sickly smell of it seeped into her leg fur as she tried to stay conscious. "Promise?"

"I.. Okay, Brightfur." Smokestripe nosed her forehead. She was trying to stay steady, but Brightfur heard the wobble in her mew. "I promise."

Thank you, she tried to say. It was too late. Brightfur watched with disjointed fear as the floor came up to kiss her face goodnight. Her eyes were glassy as she took in the rapidly approaching blobs of her Clanmates- oh yeah, she thought vaguely, I was in the clearing- and then she was gone.

Her eyes felt gunky as Brightfur stirred, squeezing back a migraine that felt like it was infecting every strand of her pelt. Her vision swam as she opened them, gazing blearily into the open camp. She was in her nest, sprawled out on the soft moss. Her side felt stiff from lack of movement. Brightfur's tail-tip twitched irritably. What a nightmare.

Brightfur slowly lifted her head. It felt like swimming through honey; sluggish and weirdly difficult, like she had to fight against the air to move. She felt something shift against her stomach and looked over to see Dewpaw quietly snoozing, the apprentice's head tucked onto her. His pelt was frazzled and unkempt, whiskers twitching nervously. It didn't look like a pleasant rest.

Blinking away sleep, she looked out into the clearing, surprised to see it was pitch black outside. The camp was a ghost town. She tried to spot any familiar flickers of movement- cats rolling over, the shuffling of paws, something- but it was like the world had up and left her. Brightfur heard quiet voices coming from the leader's den, too soft to discern.

The pieces slowly came together as she tucked her paws underneath her, moving to a more comfortable position. Dewpaw didn't stir; poor tyke was out cold, for better or worse. Right. Mom gave me a seeded fresh-kill. Brightfur blinked at her golden feet, wondering why she didn't feel more upset about it. It wasn't Smokestripe's fault- her mother had only had the best of intentions. It was on her for not checking. I always knew it would happen eventually. I guess I just assumed it'd be deathberries. The use of poppy confused her more than the actual poisoning. Sure, it would've killed her had she eaten the whole meal, but poppy was a major trigger for her- the taste especially.

She wasn't trying to kill me. But that didn't make sense. Brightfur struggled to put purpose to the entire ordeal- Ravenwind always had a reason, an excuse, for doing what she did. What did knocking her out accomplish?

"It kept you here, didn't it?"

Brightfur flinched. She turned to the clearing once again. The starry pelt of Flowerpaw was near the entrance, tail whipping back and forth like she hated even being there. She didn't question why the molly could hear her thoughts- what did she know about StarClan these days, anyway?- but she was concerned that the dark tabby was visiting. "Shouldn't you be with Dewpaw?"

Flowerpaw shook her head, green eyes burning. "This isn't about StarClan."

She struggled to digest that. Why would a StarClan cat come to visit her? "If this is about S-"

"We don't have time for petty squabbles," Flowerpaw snapped, shocking her into silence. "Think, Brightfur. Why would Ravenwind do this?"

Brightfur blinked at her. Why does Ravenwind do anything? To get what she wants. She turned her paws over, staring at her pads. Reason was escaping her. Why would Ravenwind want this? The whole camp would know it was her the moment they checked out that vole. She gave it to Smokestripe in the first place. Having everyone focus on me would only make her motives more questionable. It clicked in her mind like the chains in a fence. She wanted the attention off of her while I was resting. But for what?

Her stomach sank as she stared at Flowerpaw, whispering, "Clover."

Flowerpaw didn't confirm nor deny. Brightfur got the vibe she wasn't really allowed to flat out fell her- StarClan had so many rules, and Flowerpaw had to follow all of them. "Hurry, Brightfur. Hurry."

It was like getting thrown in that river all over again. Brightfur suddenly felt too awake, getting to her paws so quickly Dewpaw tumbled to the floor. She didn't ask if he was okay- didn't even look at him. She ran into the clearing as he called after her, skidding out of the entrance with abandon.

For a horrible, horrible moment, Brightfur felt lost. How am I supposed to find a den I've never even seen? She opened her maw and let the scents of her Clanmates rush over her tongue, comforting her. Brackenclaw. I need to follow Brackenclaw's trail. His scent was stale, going out and then back in. She didn't know how long he was gone. Didn't know if he'd even learned what happened to her. It all seemed so insignificant now.

Brightfur started to run again, and this time she didn't stop. The leaves had only just started to change colors, leaving flickers of flame in the corners of her vision. The medicine cat leapt over branches and plowed through bushes, speckling her pelt with mud. Her hip stung. Her body ached. She didn't care. Brackenclaw didn't leave any false leads, didn't even try to cover up his scent. It was like he was asking for someone to find them. Maybe he was, in his own way; seeking out a patrol to convince Clover to come home with him.

My brother is an idiot, she thought, so terrified she was furious.

The trail broke into a small clearing. A sett in a small hill, so old Brightfur had gone into it as a mere apprentice. There hadn't been badgers there in more seasons than Alderstar had been alive. In the darkness it was practically invisible. And Ravenwind's pelt blended right in.

The kit dangling in her jaws, lifeless, did not.

Brightfur skidded to a stop, panting. It was like her eyes couldn't focus, darting to and fro. Clover on the ground, bleeding from the throat. A pile of kits in front of her- two or three, at least. The one in Ravenwind's teeth- so small, so young, with fluffy dark tabby fur.

Ravenwind's eyes widened as she appeared. She opened her jaw and the kit fell, landing with a soggy plop. There was blood around her muzzle. "You woke up early."

Blood pounded in her ears. Brightfur struggled to form words. "You... why?"

The molly had the gall to shrug. "They were rogue kits. They aren't held to Clan law."

"He stopped being protected by the code the moment he decided to slip into the Twolegplace."

"They were-"

"I know," she interrupted, but her voice was gentle, and somehow that felt worse. "And if he'd had the guts to bring them home, I might have been more lenient." Ravenwind stepped over the kitten and kicked it with a back foot. It rolled into the sett. "Warriors can't live in two worlds, you know."

Brightfur slowly shook her head. She was trembling from ears to tail. "You... you really hate me that much?"

"Not everything is about you, you know." Ravenwind's whiskers twitched. She brought a bloodstained paw up to groom it. "I expected better of you, Brightfur. You of all cats should've known better. I-"

She didn't remember bunching her muscles. One second, she was staring at the massacre; the next she was leaping, claws out, at the molly who had been her mentor.

Ravenwind, to her credit, didn't seem surprised. She rolled with the pounce; then kept rolling, pinning Brightfur to the forest floor. Her amber eyes glowed in the moonlight. A half-moon. "We've done this song and dance before, Brightfur. You're not a hero- you're a little bitch who can't even protect her own brother." She glared and brought a paw down on her throat. Her lips drew back and reveal bloodstained teeth. "Do you know how much work I've put into this Clan? I won't have you ruin it!"

"I hate you," Brightfur wheezed, eyes filling with tears. "I hate you I hate you I hate you I-"

"I know," Ravenwind reassured her- and even now there was love in her eyes. "If only you knew just how I cared about you. How much I've done for you. Don't you see? I've set you free."

We've done this song and dance before. Brightfur remembered the night with startling clarity. Ravenwind throwing her into the river Flowerpaw had floundered in, watching her mentor's face split with hatred for the very first time. She'd kicked out, struggling desperately to survive. But she'd forgotten her claws. She'd been too young to know how to fight with them.

Brightfur wasn't young anymore.

Her claws slammed into Ravenwind's stomach. There was pressure, resistance, and then a give, like the flesh was parting just for her. She felt her paws go in deep, sinking through her abdomen and into the organs beyond. It was like the sludge in her heart had taken up residence on her back feet. The blood was hot.

Brightfur pulled her legs down, and with it came Ravenwind's entire stomach. She heard a disgusting sound, wet and heavy, and then her mentor was falling on top of her, eyes wide. Her mouth fell open and she screeched.

She scrambled out from under her- had Ravenwind always been this light?- and backed away, shading herself under the cover of the sett. There was a gurgling from Ravenwind; no, she realized suddenly. It was Clover. She whirled around. The ginger and white molly was stretching a paw out towards her, green eyes pleading.

She's alive.

Brightfur was by her side in a flash, pressing her paws against the wound in her throat. There was still time. I need cobwebs. A lot of cobwebs. And poppy. The thought of the herb made her shudder, gagging back more bile. She shouldn't have to be awake for this. It's not her fault.

It was hers.

It was always hers.

Ravenwind pulled herself to her front paws, dragging herself closer and closer. She left a streak of blood in her wake, matting the dark fur of her legs. "Oh, mama," she murmured, green eyes bright and wet. She looked oddly childish covered in blood. "Did I make you proud, mama?"

Brightfur stared at her and didn't answer.

"I knew it," Ravenwind hissed. "I knew it, mama. My father made a mistake when he had me, but I've become something much greater. I've become a blessing from StarClan."

She slumped to the ground, and Brightfur felt something inside her break as Ravenwind drew one last shaky breath. Brightfur took deep breaths to avoid throwing up on Clover, pressing harder on her wound.

She didn't know how long she sat there. Hours? Minutes? She just kept pressing. And praying. She hadn't prayed in moons.

She prayed tonight.

Author's Note: SO sorry for the massive delay, guys! I've been working really hard to figure out how I wanted to format this chapter. I considered having Brightfur confront Clover before Ravenwind got to her, but it just felt... wrong? Clover's not an idiot. If Brightfur had come to her warning her, even vaguely, she would've skedaddled.

I also debated on how Ravenwind would get the time to do it. Brightfur wouldn't just... not notice her leaving. But then I realized that Ravenwind would need to do a lot better than sneak, considering she's basically at five stars with Slatestar. Then I thought it'd be fun to have her repeat the actions of Brightfur's kithood- a distraction AND a way to make it come full circle.

This has been planned from the start, however! Ravenwind's death. I did consider trying to Ravenwind using various other methods, since she's a drowner at heart, but considering how desperate she'd be to get out and kill after so long with nothing I think sloppy like this fits really well.

We've got one last chapter on this part! Then we're gonna take a lil break from Brightfur to give Ravenwind's backstory! It's super fun to take someone whose been a mostly secretive or mysterious person and rip them apart with backstory. To see exactly what makes them tick. And even though Ravenwind is dead, her life and actions mirror Smithy's quite a lot.

Lemme know what you think! I haven't been this nervous posting a chapter in years. Special shoutout to Scrambles for reading this over to check if it was emotionally impactful.

-Mandaree1