A Warrior Cats oneshot about Bluestar finally finding peace.
Bluestar walked by Fireheartâs side as he â slow even with the two othersâ help â dragged her lifeless body back towards ThunderClanâs camp. It warmed her heart to see the sadness dimming his eyes, and even more so when that same sadness was reflected in her brave kitsâ.
Still, as she gazed across the scarred and bare forest the warmth dimmed and her ears hung low. She had brought this upon her Clan. She had brought this upon her trusted and beloved cats because she was too weak to handle a single traitorâŚ
Before sheâd drawn her last breath, the thought of the hated Tigerclaw â now Tigerstar â would have made her fur bristle. Now it just filled her with sadness.
She sat in comfortable silence as her two kits carefully groomed her in her old den. Before she could comprehend what had happened they were chased off by her clan. Even later again she sat by her own body, listening to the silent words her clan whispered as they mourned, wishing she could still feel the warmth of their bodies.
They were cold as ice. It was almost as though they were the dead ones, and not her.
Then, when everything was done and finished and her body was put to dirt, she closed her eyes and walked.
And she walked up, and up, and up â
she opened her eyes and saw Starpelt laid out before her. Around her, above her, surrounding her on all sides â
her form, which before had seemed like a distant echo of her body while alive, was slowly becoming solid again. It was getting younger, she noticed in bewilderment, and soon her heart felt lighter, as well.
In the distance she could make out the start of a field. The grass swayed slightly in a gentle breeze, and it looked as soft as the fresh moss used in nurseries. The field faded into the stars around it â a slow, natural change from seeds of light to familiar territory.
At the very edge of the field sat a cat.
Bluestar squinted. This cat seemed familiar â reasonable, she supposed, as she was likely to be greeted by cats whoâd known her in life.
Her heart twisted painfully. She hoped whoever it was wasnât all that disappointed at her choices. She regretted every single one of them and every single consequence of it. Had she been able to, she wouldâve gone back and changed everything that had happened after Tigerclaw was exiled. Alas, she could not, and now her fate was for StarClan to decide.
She took her sweet time walking closer. The cat waiting for her seemed content to do so, even though their tail, folded around their paws, was twitching slightly.
And then Bluestar recognized them.
She forgot all about taking her sweet time and bolted forward, nearly stumbling in her own paws in her haste to get over to the cat.
They stood up, took half a step closer â and didnât get any further, because Bluestar slammed into them, causing them both to tumble over in kit-like glee. âPlumface!â Bluestar exclaimed, purring so loudly that she could barely hear her own thoughts.
Plumface, Bluestar noticed, was purring just as loud. âBluestar,â Plumface replied, nuzzling her cheek and then pressing their flanks together. âIâve been waiting for you, old friend.â
Plumface seemed to be way older than the last time Bluestar had shared a den with them. She understood, instinctively, that dead cats returned to the ages they were the happiest. She didnât know how she knew, but the truth sung in her very bones.
She realized that it had been true, what her friend had assured her almost every single Gathering since they moved. Plumface had found a good and happy home with WindClan.
Her old childhood friend took a step back and raked their gaze over her. Their face shifted into sorrow. âAnd so youngâŚâ they whispered.
Bluestar smiled, bumping her shoulder into Plumfaceâs side. âI think weâre pretty much the same age, you old pest,â she mewed fondly.
Plumfaceâs expression shattered into desperation, and they lunged forward to clumsily wrap their paws around Bluestarâs neck, nosing her cheek before licking her ears. âIâm so sorry,â they whispered, the words half-choked by sorrow, âIâm so, so, so sorry, Bluestar, I couldnât be there for you, I shouldâve been there â â
Bluestar froze. âYouâve been watching me,â she whispered.
The huge, furry cat purred a sharp laugh, pulling back only enough to butt their heads together. âOf course I have, you stupid old fool,â they said affectionately, softly â âYouâve always been my best friend.â
Bluestar evaded their eyes. âI didnât â that wasnât me â â
Plumface purred loudly again, licking her cheek determinedly. âOf course it wasnât,â they said firmly. âDonât you think I know you? Itâs not your fault you couldnât fight the terrible disease.â
Bluestar didnât know what to say to that. Perhaps there was nothing truly to be said; Plumface was here, with her once more, their bodies close and so, so warm. And they were right â the madness that had taken over her had been a sort of disease, and she hadnât been able to fight it.
âYou made him a brave warrior, you know,â Plumface mewed softly, not moving from their spot, the two catâs necks pressed flush together. They couldnât look at each other like this, but the soft scent of plums that always hung around Plumface was all around her, and she felt safer than she had in many moons. âFireheart will bring your clan to greatness.â
âItâs not my clan anymore,â Bluestar whispered.
âItâs not,â Plumface agreed, twisting their face to lick the side of Bluestarâs neck. âBut we are.â And with that they took a step back. The soft fields that stretched out below the brightening sky had been hidden behind the fluff of Plumface reddish pelt.
And on the grass sat cats. Many of them, far too many â there was Yellowfang, sitting beside Spottedleaf, and over there were her parents, and Oakheart, and Lionheart, and Redtail, and every single cat she had ever felt even the slightest of love for â
and they were all smiling at her.
âWe love you, Bluestar,â Plumface whispered, butting their head against the side of Bluestarâs face one more time before they stepped aside. âWelcome home.â
And Bluestar walked forward on shaky paws, her legs almost giving out beneath her, as her lost ones swarmed around her, their bodies and scents as familiar as theyâd ever been.
