#tinyfrost

The ginger tom jumped back in surprise as a golden presence seemed to materialize next to him. “Don’t even think about it, Tigerclaw.” Lionheart snarled, his eyes even with the other giant tabby tom. “You’ve lost.”

Whitestorm stepped up in front of his aunt, his golden eyes blazing. “After everything that’s happened, I truly thought you had changed.” The mighty white warrior snarled to the tom that had grown up beside him. “I was willing to believe that perhaps Starclan had seen something in you that would lead Thunderclan to greatness. But they hadn’t. Redtail was trying to warn us.” He shook his head slightly, not taking his eyes off the traitor before him. “I should have believed him.”

“Does this mean everything Fireheart said was true?” Fireheart glanced back at the crowd to see Dustleap shaking like a leaf as he stared at his blood-soaked father. 

“All of it.” Tinyfrost confirmed from Tigerclaw’s other side, his icy blue eyes narrow as he looked over the crowd. “There’s only one liar here, and that’s Tigerclaw.”

“You should believe him.” Peppermask pushed her way through the crowd to come stand by her friend, pressing against him reassuringly. “I heard everything he did from Ravenspirit and Riverclan. Tigerclaw killed my father, he killed Redtail - and he would have murdered his way to leadership, if it wasn’t for Fireheart.”

Stunned silence hung in the air as the Clan absorbed this news. He could clearly see each cat grappling with the world-shattering revelations that had just been uncovered. It had been hard enough for him and the others to understand, one bit at a time. To have it be revealed all at once - as much as he hated it, he understood their disbelief.

Part of him briefly thought about adding more secrets onto the pile - like that Ravenspirit was alive, or that Whitestorm was Brokentail’s son. But they weren’t truly his secrets to reveal, and in any case, they had enough to deal with in punishing Tigerclaw.

“So what now?” He blinked in surprise as Halftail spoke. Of all the cats, he seemed to be the least surprised by what had just transpired. Or perhaps, Fireheart reasoned, Halftail was just choosing not to show his surprise to everyone else.

Bluestar stepped forward, her blue eyes glittering dangerously. “Do you have any last words, Tigerclaw?” She asked bluntly as she watched her deputy seethe angrily. 

He was quiet for several heartbeats, and Fireheart looked on with worry. Was Tigerclaw going to lash out now that his plans had gone awry? “Fine. If you all want the truth, I’ll tell you the truth.” The murderer growled, glaring out at the crowd in front of him. “The truth is that this Clan has grown soft. Never before would an enemy warrior have seen the inside of our camp like this, yet under Bluestar’s command it has now happened three separate times.” 

His tail lashed angrily as he surveyed the Clan. “We have been weakened by constantly accepting soft, lazy kittypets as warriors instead of sending them to where they belong. We fight in wars that don’t concern us and take in any random stray we find. Under my command, we could become a formidable Clan, one that truly follows the code instead of bending it to our whims.” He shrugged and lapped at one shoulder nonchalantly. “The only question is whether this Clan is brave enough to accept that.”

There was a moment of silence as the Clan pondered what he had just said. “So if Fireheart is a soft, lazy kittypet, then what does that make you after he beat you?” Cinderspark shouted from where she was sitting near the back. “Just curious, is all.”

Fireheart’s whiskers twitched in amusement. Despite the shock of it all, it seemed Cinderspark wasn’t about to let it break her. And while he would normally disapprove of her blase attitude in the face of such a serious affair, he could see the Clan beginning to relax at her words.

"You're wrong, Tigerclaw." Fireheart's tail bristled in shock as Longtail stood up out of the crowd now, taking a few steps forward to stare directly into his hero's dark glare. "It's not kittypets that have weakened this Clan. It's you."

All eyes were on the lanky tabby as he stood nearly nose-to-nose with the mighty warrior that he had looked up to for so long. "I admired you, Tigerclaw. For a while, I thought you were the pinnacle of what every warrior should be - brave and strong, always willing to fight for what the Clan needs in a heartbeat. But I was wrong. Any cat can be big and tough, even rogues like Brokentail and Spiderfoot. That's not what makes us warriors."

"Redtail understood that. He knew that being a warrior was about doing what's right and following the code, no matter the cost. He cared for every cat in this Clan, because he knew that it wasn't strength that made us a Clan - it was our bonds. He was the greatest cat that this Clan has ever had, and you killed him." He shook his head in bitter disbelief as tears welled in his eyes. "Just like you killed Quickflash. My brother was a good cat. Just like Redtail, he cared for this Clan. He wanted to see us all thrive, no matter our origins. I know he would have made a good leader - and you even agreed with me. You told me you were certain the day would come when he got his nine lives. Were you already planning to kill him then? Did you know you were lying to me?"

He took a ragged breath in and out, trying to maintain his composure. "They're two of the greatest cats this Clan will have ever had, and you killed them. For what? The good of Thunderclan?"

"I-"

"Don't even try to lie to me." Longtail was up in Tigerclaw's face with a snarl, his pale eyes blazing brighter than Fireheart's pelt. "Thunderclan has lost two of its best warriors because of you - a loss that we will never be able to recover from. If you hadn't killed Redtail, we could have Sunningrocks back. If you hadn't killed Quickflash, Willowbranch would be carrying a new litter - a litter of strong, forestborn warriors. But that doesn't matter to you, does it? The only thing you can think about is yourself."

"Well, I can tell you one thing, Tigerclaw." The lithe warrior stepped back, even as his unsheathed claws clearly itched for the blood of his former idol. "It's not blood that makes a cat a good warrior. It's their passion, their desire to do right by the Clan. There are so few warriors like that these days - but Fireheart is one of them. He follows the code far more than you ever have. He may have been born a kittypet, but he is a warrior now - more of a warrior than you could hope to be. In fact, when it comes to kittypets - I'd say you're more like your father than Fireheart ever was."

Tigerclaw roared with fury as his longtime follower spat the last sentence in his face, leaping forward with claws extended to force Longtail to take his words back. Before he could touch the younger tom, however, Tinyfrost was underneath him and shoving him away into Lionheart, who grabbed the once-respected deputy by the scruff and pulled him roughly down into the dirt once more.

Longtail sat back down next to Darkstripe, glancing at the black tabby as though expecting him to agree, but his black ears perked in shock as the other tom pulled away with a disgusted sneer. "I didn't realize you were so short-sighted, Longtail." Darkstripe growled, catching the attention of any cat that hadn't been looking at them. "Redtail, Quickflash - their deaths were tragic, yes, but they were just means to an end. Tigerclaw knew this. Tigerclaw understands that a Clan needs a strong paw to guide them."

Longtail looked horrified as his dark companion stood up and padded over to nuzzle under Tigerclaw's chin - a gesture of obedience that the giant tabby accepted. "You're all fools if you can't see how Tigerclaw could lead this Clan to glorious new heights, free from the disease that festers at its core! We could rid ourselves of the kittypet filth that poisons us-" Darkstripe shot a pointed glare at Fireheart and Tinyfrost- "and grow powerful enough that all the Clans would fear us as they would any true ruler! We-"

With a single paw, Whitestorm thrust Darkstripe's head to the ground, his jaw slamming painfully against the earth. "Be quiet, you. The only filth we'll be ridding this Clan of is you and your mentor." The black-striped tom squirmed beneath the mighty warrior's paw, but it wasn't until Whitestorm let go that he was able to rise, spitting out dust and pebbles.

"At least one of you has some sense." Tigerclaw rumbled, shooting a disdainful look at Whitestorm, which was readily returned. "Which of the rest of you will be bold enough to join me? Sandstorm, my dearest daughter?"

Silence stretched between them as Sandstorm regarded the traitor for a long moment. At last, the pale ginger molly stood and padded soundlessly towards her father. Fireheart's heart dropped. Sandstorm loved her father, he was sure, but surely now that she knew who he was she wouldn't dream of-

"I remember when my brother and I were kits." She mewed softly, quiet enough that Fireheart had to strain to hear it from behind Lionheart. "I remember the pride I felt knowing that my Papa was deputy of the whole Clan - how he assured me that one day, I could follow in his pawsteps, if I committed to being a great warrior that Thunderclan deserved. I remember how he brought me my favorite freshkill when I got sick, even though it was leafbare. I remember how he used to play mossball with me, how he held me close and purred when I had nightmares, how he scolded me when I got into a fight with Dust. He was deputy, but he always made time for us."

"Even as apprentices, he loved us. He was hard on us, but it was only because he wanted to see us succeed even beyond him. The way he wouldn't stop telling everyone when I caught my first prey, I knew he was proud of us." Sandstorm's green eyes were blazing with fury, a fury that seemed to almost match the way Tigerclaw had looked at Fireheart when he realized his plans had been ruined. "Redtail was my father - my Papa - and you killed him. You killed him, and you lied about it, and you made me think-"

She cut herself off, swallowing down whatever words she had been about to say. "When I saw Papa's body, my life was shattered. The only solace I had was that his murderer was dead, that at least Papa could rest in Starclan knowing that he was avenged. And this whole time, his murderer has lied to me, over and over - and now he dares to call himself my father?"

A brilliant flash of crimson lanced through the air as Tigerclaw jerked back with a hiss. Fireheart realized belatedly that Sandstorm was holding her paw up, her claws dripping with the dark tabby's blood - she had moved so fast, his eyes hadn't even registered her strike. "You call Fireheart soft - and you might very well be right, because Fireheart let you live. He has shown you a mercy that I never will. If you ever dare to show your face to me again, I will inflict upon you the suffering that you deserve for each and every one of your crimes - the suffering you have escaped each day you lived instead of Papa. You will beg for Starclan to save you and I can promise you now, they will not answer."

All of the Clan looked on in stunned silence at her words, but if she noticed, she didn’t seem to be bothered. Instead, she turned around, her tail slapping into his face as she did so, and marched back to where she had been sitting by her apprentice and her brother. Tigerclaw dabbed at his nose with a paw, trying to appear unbothered. “Fine, then. And you, Dustleap? You have always been my most loyal son.”

Fireheart looked on as Dustleap trembled violently, shaking worse than a leaf on the Thunderpath. For a moment, he feared that the young tabby would collapse into the dirt beneath him from the shock - and yet, somehow, the tom took one quivering step forward, then another, until he too was in front of his father. "Father, I loved you. I trusted you. I- I would have done anything for you. You know that. You- You know that." Tears welled up in the tabby's pale eyes, making them shimmer like a puddle beneath the full moon. "I would have died for you."

He took a stuttering breath, as though his body was rejecting the need for air. "But Redtail was my father too. And Quickflash was - he was my mentor, Father. I thought you trusted him. He was a good warrior. They both were. But- But you killed them? You killed them. They followed the warrior code - they did everything right - and you killed them. Just as - just like you would have made us kill Ravenspirit."

Dustleap's eyes searched his father's for answers, but Fireheart knew he would find no answers from the murderer that would satisfy him. "Did you kill him too?" Dustleap asked, his voice breaking from the strain. "How many have died because of you? How many would have died because of you, if you did become leader? Would - would you have me killed too?"

Tigerclaw shook his broad head slowly. "Dustleap, you misunderstand. You are my favorite son, I would never-"

"Because your other son is dead!" Fireheart was shocked by the volume with which the warrior howled, his every word filled to the brim with grief and pain. "If it weren't for me following your orders, Fireheart and Graystripe wouldn't have taken him with them to fight Brokentail. He wouldn't have died - he could still be alive! But he's dead! He's dead, and he- he died thinking I hated him!" He took another shuddering breath, his whole body wracked by sobs. "And he was right. I did hate him, because you lied."

They stared at each other, silent except for the tears Dustleap was barely choking back. "I would have followed you anywhere, Father. I thought you were the greatest warrior to ever live in these Clans. You made me believe that. But that was just one of the many lies you told, wasn't it?" Dustleap looked over every inch of his father's face, trying to find a crack in the stony facade - but there wasn't one. "Avenging Redtail, honoring Quickflash, serving the code - I don't think you've ever told me the truth once. Not even-" He swallowed at the air, trying to gulp down enough to finish speaking. "Not even when you said you loved me."

At last he turned away, his piece apparently said, but he had only made it a pawstep before looking back. "Sandstorm's right. You're not our father. If I see you again, I will kill you - I will kill you, and you will deserve it." He looked away and then up at the branches covering camp. "And Ravenspirit, I- I am so, so sorry."

Fireheart watched, his heart suddenly aching for Dustleap as he limped back to his sister and almost collapsed against her irate, rigid form. For so long, Fireheart had looked upon the temperamental tabby with annoyance at best - and hatred at worst. He had been reckless, arrogant, and volatile, but he had at his heart wanted to serve the Clan, just as Fireheart had - just as he thought his father had. To look at him now, he seemed almost broken - not so different from when Fireheart had first met Ravenspirit, so long ago. He had never thought of them as brothers before, but seeing the pain that had been inflicted upon both of them by Tigerclaw made him suddenly appreciate their similarities.

“Enough of this, Tigerclaw.” Bluestar stepped forward now, her tail lashing once to punctuate her sentence. “You and Darkstripe are hereby exiled from Thunderclan for your crimes.” The leader announced, her eyes narrowing as she looked down her nose at both of them. “You will leave our territory at once. And if you ever dare to step foot on Thunderclan land again, all warriors have my express permission to kill you.” She whipped around to pointedly turn her back on them. “Now get out of my sight.”

For a second, he thought that Tigerclaw might not leave, or that he might even try to finish the job. Then he stood and stretched, as the crowd jeered and hissed at him. “Fireheart.” He growled, turning to glare at the cat that had beaten him. “You had best watch every step you make. You may think you’ve won today, but know that I will be back one day. I will wait in the shadows, however long it takes for you to drop your guard. I know every whisker-length of this territory, and I will get what I deserve. I promise you that.”

The ginger tom flattened his ears angrily at the now-exiled deputy. “Oh, I’ll make sure you get what you deserve, if Starclan doesn’t get to you first.” He growled back, tail lashing. “Now are you going to leave willingly, or will I have to drag your body to the Thunderpath myself?”

Tigerclaw’s tail bristled at his retort, but he didn’t answer as he padded to the bramble tunnel entrance. Darkstripe followed him, casting one last glare over his shoulder before the two disappeared into the darkness beyond.

Fireheart turned to Bluestar, mouth open to ask her a question, but didn’t get a chance before she stumbled to one side. Whitestorm caught her before she could fall, his golden gaze worried. “Bluestar?” He rumbled softly. “How many lives did Tigerclaw take?”

The leader’s eyelids fluttered for several heartbeats as she fought to keep herself on her paws. “Two.” She mumbled to her nephew, though the word seemed impossibly hard for her to speak.

“She needs rest.” Lionheart stated firmly, coming up on the other side of Bluestar to support her. “Let’s get her to the nursery for now. It’ll have the largest beds for her to recover in, while we…” He glanced back at the leader’s den, which had several sets of bloody pawprints coming out of it. Including, Fireheart realized as he looked down at his paws, his own.

As soon as the two toms had moved off, supporting Bluestar between them, the rest of the Clan crowded around Fireheart. “How long have you known Tigerclaw was a murderer?” “Did Bluestar know about all this?” “What else did Ravenspirit tell you before he died?” “Why didn’t you say anything sooner?”

A flash of white caught his attention, and he turned to see a small white kitten sniffing its way furiously across the ground. He perked his ears in surprise, just in time to hear the familiar trill of his sister. “Be careful, now!”

He looked up to the nursery to see Princess standing there, watching her firstborn take his first pawsteps into camp as the other kits stared out nervously from the entrance. He padded over, already purring at the sight of them. “Princess! What’s going on?” Fireheart asked curiously as he looked down on his nieces and nephews.

“Goldenflower and Frostfur think that they’ve gotten old enough to leave the nursery for the first time, and I agree.” Princess nudged the kits at her feet forward. “Go on, follow your brother. It’s plenty safe out there, with your uncle keeping watch.”

“Unka Fiya-hawt? Where?” The kits peered out at the world with eyes that were just beginning to change color. One of the gray tabby toms was staring at him distrustfully, a sight that made his heart hurt.

“I’m right here, silly.” Fireheart purred, crouching down so he was on equal eye level with them. Now they were all staring at him, as though he had suddenly grown a second tail. “Don’t you recognize me?”

“You’re not Unka Fiya-hawt!” The tortoiseshell, Lynxkit, yowled as she backed into her mother’s legs. “Unka Fiya-hawt is brown!” 

He stared at them, trying not to let the hurt show on his face. He’d been bringing them freshkill for close to two moons now - how could they not recognize him? As he looked up to his sister, he could see confusion in her eyes, before they suddenly widened. “They’ve only ever seen you in the dark of the den before.” She pointed out to him, gesturing at the length of him. “I guess you do look quite different in the sunlight.”

She was right; as he glanced back at his pelt, a bright ginger in the sun, he realized that it only glowed like this in the sunlight. It was strange to think that he looked so different, but maybe… “Alright, then.” He purred, trying not to let the sting of rejection tinge his voice as he padded over to the shadow of the Highrock. “How about now? Now am I Uncle Fireheart?”

“Unka!” He blinked as Cloudkit raced over, shoving into his now darker fur. “Mama said you’d be here!”

“Well, she was right.” He purred to his nephew, already so big compared to the mouse-sized kit that he had been at birth. “I’m keeping watch over camp, so it’s nice and safe for you.”

The other kits scuttled after their brother, now certain of their uncle’s identity. “You looked so weird!” One of the gray tabby toms - he couldn’t yet tell them apart - squeaked at him. “Why does your fur change? Why doesn't my fur change?” He stuck his tail out in the warmth of the sun, but it was only a brighter shade of gray than the rest of his body in the shadows.

“I don’t know.” Fireheart admitted. He’d never really considered how different he looked in light and shadow until now; as he stuck his own tail out from the shadow, he had to admit he understood the kits’ confusion. His sister looked almost cream in the brightest sunlight, but he knew as well as they did that she was more of a dark tawny color. “I guess my fur is just like that.”

“No fair! I want changing fur!” Lynxkit squeaked with a stamp of her little paw.

“Well, your fur might not change, but you get both black and orange fur.” He pointed out to the little molly as she frowned up at him. “Mine might change color, but I only get one at a time.”

“That’s true!” She brightened up immediately, looking over her shoulder to admire her pelt in a new context.

“Well, I’ve got lotsa colors!” Sorrelkit boasted, standing triumphantly among her siblings as she showed off her white, gray, and cream-colored pelt. “That makes me the best!”

“No it doesn’t!” Lynxkit cried, looking up at Fireheart with a giant frown. “Tell her I’m better!”

He looked down at the two mollies, his fur growing hot as they glared up at him. “Well, I don’t think-”

“Hey, what’s that?” Cloudkit yowled loudly before he could finish speaking, tumbling off after a fallen leaf nearby. The other four kits immediately turned their attention to what he was looking at, racing off with their argument apparently forgotten.

He breathed a sigh of relief as he turned to his sister. “They’re going to be real pawfuls, you know.” He pointed out to her with a purr.

“Oh, I know. At least I have Goldenflower to help me.” She flicked her tail to where the fluffy queen was sitting, watching the five kits as they began eagerly exploring the clearing. “I don’t know how I’d manage all of them otherwise!” She shivered playfully for a moment before looking at him with teasing green eyes. “So what has my big deputy brother been up to, anyways?”

He hesitated at the title, his mind already wandering back to the elders’ conversation earlier. “Oh, not much.” He purred to deflect the question. “I’d ask you the same, but I think I already know the answer.”

To his surprise, she frowned at his reply. “What’s wrong?” She asked, lowering her voice now. As he stared back at her in confusion, she sighed and rested her tail on his. “You always have this little crease on your chin when you’re worried. What’s wrong?”

He blinked at her, shocked to hear it. Did he really? He wondered for a moment if others had noticed, recalling what Peppermask had said about cats that knew him well being able to read him easier. Perhaps that was what she meant? “I… I just…” He sighed and looked away from her, out towards where the elders were still talking. “I’m sure you must have heard by now how I’m not supposed to be deputy.”

Princess blinked slowly at him. “Frostfur mentioned something about it, but Goldenflower hushed her. I didn’t really get to hear the full story.” She tilted her head and flicked a tawny ear at him. “I don’t understand - didn’t Bluestar name you deputy? Isn’t that all there is to it?”

He wearily shook his head. “No, there’s - there’s requirements to being a deputy. One of them is that a deputy must have mentored an apprentice before being named. There’s - there’s some room for interpretation on that, but I’ve never even been considered for an apprentice. I’ve only been a warrior for a couple of seasons as it is.”

She listened to him carefully, slowly nodding along as he spoke. “Well, why don’t you mentor one of the apprentices? Or you could mentor one of my kits, when they’re old enough. I- I kind of expected you would, when it came to that.”

Fireheart managed to purr weakly at the offer. “I can’t just take an apprentice from another mentor. Mentors and apprentices are a special bond, and… I’m only a few moons older than the current apprentices, anyways. It’d be weird.” He didn’t really know how to explain it to a cat that hadn’t been an apprentice before. “And that’s not the only requirement, either. For another, the ceremony has to take place before moonhigh after the deputy position is vacated, and mine… wasn’t.”

She snorted dismissively at that. “So? It still happened, didn’t it? The circumstances were unusual; I’m sure any cat would be willing to make an exception.”

“Cats of the Clans don’t do exceptions very well.” He thought briefly of bringing up that he was also a kittypet, which was generally despised among the Clan, but she surely knew as well as he did the attitude most Clan cats had towards kittypets. “I just - none of them will say it to my face, but they don’t consider me a real deputy. They’re all waiting for Bluestar to get better and hold a new ceremony, for a different deputy.”

“If they won’t say it to your face, then they can’t believe it that much.” Princess huffed, screwing her nose up in disdain at the unnamed cats he was speaking of. “Don’t listen to them, Fireheart. You’re doing a fine job.”

How would she know? He held the words back with a contemptuous twitch of his whiskers. She was stuck in the nursery all day; she barely saw him, except when he came in to give her and her kits freshkill. She didn’t know what it was like, day in and day out, knowing he was constantly being judged. Things were fine - for now - but they would not always be. He wasn’t sure if the Clan could handle an inevitable crisis with him as deputy - especially not if Tigerclaw ended up coming back for a rematch.

“You’re not allowed in there!” He jumped as someone growled behind him, breaking him out of his thoughts, and turned to see Tinyfrost standing over Cloudkit, who was inching curiously towards the leader’s den. “Find somewhere else to play.”

He expected the little white kit to turn around immediately at the sight of the bristling black tom, but instead Cloudkit looked up at Fireheart’s former mentor with a defiant glare. “Why not?” His nephew challenged, taking another pawstep towards the lichen curtain. “What’s in there?”

Frustration grew in Tinyfrost’s icy gaze as he stared down at the kit, and Fireheart quickly bounded forward to intervene before the situation worsened. “That’s the leader’s den, Cloudkit. You’re only allowed to go in if you’re invited.” He explained, just as Graystripe had explained to him back when he was first an apprentice.

Cloudkit turned his attention to his uncle, even as he jutted his chin out insolently. “So? You’re the deputy! You can invite me!”

He took a deep breath, trying not to snap at his sister’s kit. This was just part of raising a kit in the Clans, wasn’t it? He just had to explain it patiently so that Cloudkit understood. “I might be the deputy, yes, but the leader has power over me, along with everyone else in the Clan. If I invite you in without asking her, she’ll get upset with me, and then I’ll be in trouble. You don’t want that for me, do you?”

His nephew looked distinctly unsympathetic. “You won’t get in twouble if I just look!” Cloudkit mewed eagerly, eyeing the entrance once again. “Lemme go in!”

“She’d be able to smell you in there, for one.” Fireheart pointed out as his annoyance only continued to grow. “Plus the whole camp will see you go in and out. And that would be if she’s not in there right now - which she is.”

“Really? Lemme see her!” Cloudkit marched determinedly dowards the curtain, but Fireheart quickly swept him away with a paw.

“No, you can’t. The reason she’s in there is because she’s sick, and needs rest.” Fireheart tried not to let his irritation seep into his voice at the continued defiance of his nephew. How did queens handle kits every day when they were like this? “She doesn’t need nosy kits harassing her right now.”

The little kit huffed angrily as he was batted away from the den, studying the distance and Fireheart’s paw as he considered whether he was fast enough to make it through the curtain before the deputy could stop him. “I’ll be quiet then! I-”

“How many times must your uncle tell you no before you listen?” Cloudkit jumped as Princess stepped out from behind her brother, glowering down at her young son. “If you don’t leave him and Tinyfrost alone, you can go right back to the nursery while the rest of your siblings explore camp. Is that clear?”

Cloudkit scrunched his nose up angrily at his mother, and for a moment he thought the kit might ignore her anyways. Then he turned, his little white tail lashing as best it could, and sulked off to where the other four kits were exploring the tree stump by the apprentices’ den with great fascination. “Fine.” He huffed as he went across camp, his small triangular ears as flat as he could make them.

The tawny queen sighed and rolled her eyes as she turned to Tinyfrost. “I’m sorry about him. He’s going through a rebellious streak now that he’s old enough to run around. I thought that getting to explore camp would excite him enough to keep him from talking back, but I guess I was wrong.”

Tinyfrost sat back down beside the leader’s den, giving his shoulder a quick couple of licks. “Just make sure that he and the rest of his litter stay well away from me, alright? I’m guarding Bluestar, not playing kitsitter.” He looked away haughtily, but Fireheart knew that his old mentor wasn’t truly upset at the kits - Bluestar’s condition had been hard on all of those in her inner circle, Tinyfrost included.

The two siblings padded away to watch the five kits, who had now begun a rousing game of tag in the ferns of the apprentice den. “I worry about how they’ll fit in.” Princess mewed softly to him, quiet enough that no other cat could hear. “Goldenflower and Frostfur treat them just like any other kit, I’m sure, but what about the rest of the Clan? They weren’t all happy to see me, the day I joined, and I’m afraid…” She trailed off, meeting Fireheart’s gaze out of the corner of her eye.

“I know what you mean.” He admitted, recalling his own reception into the Clan when he had been a mere 6 moons old. It had been easy to understand some cats’ disdain for him, and in time he’d learned who to avoid and who could be trusted. But as far as Princess’ kits knew, they were Clanborn; they wouldn’t understand why certain cats glared at them as they walked past. 

But with Tigerclaw and Darkstripe gone, exposed by mere kittypet-borns, many of those who harbored hatred against kittypets were now silent - or at the very least, doing a better job at hiding their hatred of him. He supposed it also helped that he was deputy now, and while he wouldn’t abuse his authority to reprimand them over childish insults, they didn’t seem interested in testing him on that.

“I wouldn’t worry about it too much.” Fireheart replied at last. “Tigerclaw’s betrayal has them all shaken. As far as most of them care, he was Clanborn, same as any of them. That a Clanborn cat would do something so awful - and that a kittypet-born would be the one to stop him - it all makes them question what worth that all has. Between that and me being deputy now, I don’t think they’ll dare to say anything to you or the kits.” He turned to give her a reassuring smile. “But if they do, you just tell me, alright? I won’t tolerate them making my niblings feel less-than.”

She gave him a small smile in return, but he could tell her heart wasn’t in it. “I know you will.” She turned back to watch as Cloudkit leaped out of the ferns to bowl over one of the gray kits, who squealed angrily with indignation at the attack. He couldn’t tell what she was thinking - did she not believe him? Was there something else she was afraid of? He couldn’t tell.

His gaze drifted back to the camp entrance as Sandstorm left with the two apprentices in tow. Tigerclaw and Bluestar had gone into her den, leaving the camp with only the elders and Brokentail’s entourage. Even Snowkit was out, fetching moss for the elders’ nests. The clearing felt strangely devoid of life as he looked upon it; he shifted uncomfortably, unnerved by the stillness and silence. 

As the moments passed by in quiet contemplation, his fur began to prickle more and more until it felt as though ants were crawling up and down his pelt. He tensed his muscles, trying to will it away, but the jitters only grew stronger until he was forced to stand and try to shake them out. He couldn’t sit here until the patrols finally came back, he quickly realized. Between the boredom and the silence, he would surely drive himself mad.

Perhaps a few laps around camp would do him good, he thought to himself, stretching out his muscles and beginning to pad along the clearing perimeter. It wasn’t as if he couldn’t do his job walking around, after all. If anything, he was guarding the camp even better, making sure to check all spots for any signs of trouble!

“Fireheart?” He blinked out of his thoughts at the sound of his name, turning to see he’d just passed by where Rosetail and Halftail were snoozing together. “Is something wrong?”

He shook his head quickly. “No, I’m just trying to beat the chill. Figured I’d try to warm myself up by taking a walk around camp. I hope my pacing didn’t disturb you?”

The tortoiseshell elder shrugged, her bony shoulders exaggerating the movement. “It doesn’t bother me. Just try to keep it down, won’t you? The other elders won’t appreciate it if their sunhigh slumber is disturbed.” She flicked her red-striped tail towards where the other elders were sprawled out in various patches of dappled sunlight.

“Of course.” He purred with a respectful dip of his head, before quietly continuing on. He flicked his tail in a greeting to Whitestorm and Yellowfang as he passed them, though neither stopped him to talk as they watched Thunderclan’s sole prisoner. He approached the nursery again, feeling energized as blood rushed through his veins. It seemed a small walk was just what he needed after all, given he was to be cooped up in camp until close to sunset.

He began a second languid lap around the clearing, focusing on keeping his pawsteps soundless. He paused briefly by the leader’s den, wondering what Tigerclaw and Bluestar were talking about, but he could only hear dull murmuring beyond the mossy curtain and quickly continued on before either could notice his shadow. He dipped his head to Snowkit as he passed by with a large ball of moss, watching the young tom disappear into the elders’ den. He was tempted to help with making the elders’ nests, but he knew that if Tigerclaw caught him doing anything but guard duty that he would get an angry reprimand he certainly didn’t need.

He had just reached the stump by the apprentices’ den when Sandstorm burst into camp, her sides heaving. “Thunderclan!” She wheezed out as all eyes turned towards her. “We… we’re…”

Fireheart stared at her in confusion. “Sandstorm?” He prompted as the tawny molly fought to catch her breath. “What’s going on? Has something happened to Brightpaw and Thornpaw?” He glanced over his shoulder at Yellowfang, wondering if perhaps the healer was needed to rectify a training accident.

The deputy’s daughter shook her head stubbornly. “Attack… They…” She panted, clearly not used to having run as fast as she had. Fireheart stepped towards her delicately. Normally, she might claw his ears off for daring to approach; now, however, she seemed too preoccupied with whatever message she was trying to get out.

As he did, the bramble tunnel rustled behind her, one dark-colored many-toed paw stepping into view - then another. “Look out!” Fireheart yowled, sprinting past her to slam into Spiderfoot as he slid into view. The former Shadowclan deputy twisted out of the way, more rogues pouring in behind him. A dark gray tom rushed at Fireheart, driving him back from the entrance before he could stop them.

The Thunderclan camp was alive with howls of anger and the flash of claws as what few cats remained dove into battle. 

Fireheart sprang at the dark gray tom that had tried to attack him, his claws raking down his side and tearing away thick clumps of fur. The rogue snarled and leaped back at him, slamming him into the ground, but Fireheart was ready; with one vicious kick, he sent his back claws into the tom’s belly as hard as he could, sending the invader flying. 

He rolled to his feet, not giving the former Shadowclanner a chance to recover before he was beset by a flurry of fast claw-strikes. In moments, the rogue had tucked his tail and was racing back out of the camp entrance.

He turned to briefly survey the camp. Everything was in chaos. He spotted briefly Goldenflower and Frostfur near the nursery, fighting in furious tandem to attack Spiderfoot; Patchpelt was stationed in front of the elders’ den, lashing out with surprising speed at a brown and white patched molly and brown tom with a shredded tail; he could see Sandstorm riding the back of a scarred brown tom he recognized as Clawface, her claws digging into his neck as she bit at whatever her fangs could get a hold of.

As he surveyed camp, looking for another cat to drive away, he froze as he realized he couldn’t see the silver shine of Bluestar’s pelt amongst the fighters. As he searched fearfully for Thunderclan’s leader, his heart dropped as he realized he couldn’t see the bulky form of Tigerclaw among the throng either. 

His mind suddenly flashed back to the day he had seen Tigerclaw sitting next to Brokentail, the day after Graystripe had attacked him. He’d thought then that it was a father and son sharing tongues, but now he knew that not to be true. Then he recalled how he had scented a strange group of cats mixed in with Tigerclaw’s scent when he had gone to visit his sister shortly before. 

Of course camp had been so empty - Tigerclaw had planned this! He cursed himself for not seeing it sooner, even as he leaped towards the leader’s den. The lichen hung eerily still over the stone mouth, even as the battle raged around them. He didn’t hesitate, shoving his way in before any cat could stop him.

Then he froze.

Tigerclaw stood hunched over the still body of Bluestar, blood dripping down his maw as he looked to see who had dared interrupt him. At the sight of the ginger tom standing there, his lips curled into a wicked grin, showing teeth stained with the blood of his leader. “You’re too late, kittypet!” He crowed, turning and rising to his full height as he stared down Fireheart with glittering amber eyes. “Even now, Bluestar’s lives slip away from her, tragically taken by one of Brokentail’s rogues as they sought to free him from Thunderclan’s grasp. No cat will suspect the truth.”

“Traitor!” Fireheart howled, launching himself at the tabby with a vengeful fury.

The deputy dodged out of the way with a mocking laugh. “You’re a fool if you think you can defeat me with those silly battle tricks that your pathetic little mentor taught you. I’d only planned to send you two back where you belonged, but if you insist on fighting me…” His claws unsheathed, glinting in the lowlight. “I’ll happily oblige.”

He easily ducked out of the way as Tigerclaw swung, his claws raking the air over Fireheart’s ears. He recalled what Tinyfrost had told him nearly a moon ago, after Bluestar had rejected the truth - He will underestimate an opponent that’s smaller than him. Use his arrogance against him. The words rang again and again in his ears as he stood, his blood blazing inside him. He might have been too late to save Bluestar, but he would not let Tigerclaw become leader. Not without a fight.

He leaped past the murderer towards the entrance. “Fleeing, kittypet?” Tigerclaw taunted as he pivoted around on one paw, using his momentum to launch himself onto the deputy’s back and dig his claws in. Tigerclaw howled beneath him as Fireheart dug in, bucking and clawing as he tried to get the smaller tom off of him.

He strained to find skin under the thick tabby fur, growling to himself as he couldn’t find purchase. In desperation, he snapped out at Tigerclaw’s neck, hoping to find the weak spot in his spine, but he whipped his head around at the last moment. Instead, Fireheart’s fangs sunk into one dark ear, and he pulled viciously to tear away a chunk of flesh.

Tigerclaw yowled in pain beneath him, and with one last kick finally flung the ginger tom off, sending him into one wall of the den. He immediately rolled to the side as he landed, just barely missing two heavy paws slamming into where he had been. He got to his feet, watching as a trickle of blood sped down the deputy’s ear. “Oh, you’re going to pay for that, kittypet.” Tigerclaw snarled as he spun to face the young warrior. “I’ll flay you alive!”

He lunged once more at Fireheart, but the ginger tom nimbly skipped out of the way. His heart was racing from fear, but he had never felt more alive. If he died now, he died knowing he had done what he could to save his Clan.

As they stared each other down, he realized that the stone floor beneath his paws was thick with blood. Bluestar’s blood, he despaired, glancing to the side to see the body still lying there. Tigerclaw took that moment to rush at him, but he quickly side-stepped away onto a dry patch of ground.

The tabby tom hadn’t been expecting it, and swerved to course correct; this time, however, it was him standing in Bluestar’s blood, and as he tried to change direction his paws slipped out from beneath him, causing him to land with a heavy thud in front of Fireheart. The ginger warrior was diving at the deputy before he could recover; his claws slicing away the thick fur above the shoulder blade, while his fangs dug into the soft flesh beneath it. Blood immediately spurted onto his tongue, and the caterwaul of the tom under him revealed that he’d found a soft spot.

Fireheart stiffened in shock as he felt Tigerclaw’s paws wrap around his sides. In any other cat, such a bite would surely stun them, but cats across all Clans knew of Tigerclaw’s legendary stone will when it came to fighting. He would not stop until one of them was dead.

He let go of Tigerclaw’s neck and wrenched himself to the side, hoping to free himself from the tabby tom’s grasp. Instead, they went flipping across the stone den as they lashed out at each other with claws and fangs. Fireheart felt wounds being torn into his side, but he didn’t dare to stop - couldn’t dare to stop. 

Just as he thought that Tigerclaw might get the upper paw, a black blur slammed into them, sending the two fighters tumbling in separate directions across the floor. It took Fireheart several moments to get to his feet, but when he did, he could see Tinyfrost had pinned Tigerclaw by his scruff and front paws.

“Tiny- Tinyfrost?” He stuttered out, his muscles burning even as he crossed the den to help pin the traitor’s back legs, which were still clawing desperately as he tried to get the little tom to let go. “How-?”

“Sandstorm sent Thornpaw to come get us. Yowled about camp being in danger before he ran off.” The senior warrior spat down at his old enemy beneath him through the thick scruff, his ice blue eyes burning with fury. “I think he went off to the Great Sycamore to get Mousefur’s hunting patrol. Brightpaw is probably off finding Lionheart’s and Darkstripe’s patrols.”

He let out a sigh of relief at that. Now he understood why he hadn’t seen either of the apprentices behind Sandstorm; she’d clearly scented the rogues coming and sent them to get help. “Tinyfrost, he… Bluestar…” He glanced back at Bluestar’s body that was still laying in her blood-soaked nest.

“I saw.” Tinyfrost’s eyes squeezed shut in grief for his dead mentor for a brief moment before they opened again. “No use dwelling on it. Help me drag him out of here.”

The two shepherded their new prisoner out into the clearing. Tinyfrost had been right: the other patrols had returned, along with Brightpaw. It seemed as though with their combined might, they had driven out the rest of the rogues while Fireheart had been fighting with Tigerclaw. Now the assembled fighters were assessing their wounds and the damage that had been done. As the three cats exited the leader’s den in tandem, all eyes turned to them.

“Tigerclaw! Why- What are you two doing?” Dustleap jumped to his paws, fur bristling furiously. “That’s your deputy you’re-”

“He’s a traitor!” Fireheart howled, shoving Tigerclaw to the ground before him. The deputy’s amber eyes burned with rage as he sprawled before the two former kittypets.

There were shocked yowls of disbelief at his words. “Tigerclaw has always been a loyal warrior, and a great deputy!” Patchpelt called from where he was sitting by the elders’ den, where all the other elders were slowly clambering out. “How could he be a traitor?”

“Tigerclaw has never been a loyal warrior!” Fireheart shot back, his eyes searching the crowd for Peppermask. At last he spotted her, near the nursery - as their twin green gazes met, she slowly nodded. It was time, at last, to reveal the truth. “Tell me, who here remembers Redtail?”

There was discontent as he spoke the name of the fallen deputy. “So what?” Darkstripe growled from near the front of the crowd. “Redtail may not have been his mate before he died, but he still got vengeance for his death at the claws of those-”

“And who told you that?” The ginger tom thrust his muzzle towards the black-striped tom. “Did not one of you think it was strange that Oakheart, known for his love of battle and for his great honor, would resort to such a dirty trick? Did you not think that it was strange that Ravenspirit returned to camp with a wound so terrible, he fainted because of it, even though he had supposedly not fought at all?”

The crowd murmured uneasily to each other as they pondered his questions. “Speak plainly, Fireheart.” It was Lionheart who spoke up now, his green eyes troubled as they looked down on his longtime rival.

“Tigerclaw wasn’t the one to kill Oakheart that day.” Fireheart announced to a series of shocked gasps. “But he did indeed kill that morning at Sunningrocks. The cat he killed was not his enemy - but his own deputy, Redtail!”

Yowls of shock and fury met his words, each cat speaking over another as they tried to question him. Fireheart stared at them, uneasy at the sea of faces of cats twisted into states of anger, fear, and grief. He had kept this hidden from them for so long. Would they blame him for not telling them sooner?

“SILENCE!” Fireheart startled slightly at Tinyfrost’s caterwaul beside him. He had never heard the little tom shout so loudly before, even when he was mad at his apprentice. He supposed he understood why his old mentor was so quiet otherwise - he was certain that even cats near Fourtrees must have heard the yowl. “He can’t answer anything when you’re all talking over each other.” Tinyfrost mewed, once again quiet as the crowd followed his command. “If you want answers, try asking one at a time.”

His heart thudded against his ribs as he looked out at the gathered warriors. At last, Halftail stood up, his golden eyes full of suspicion. “How do you know all this? You weren’t there.” The tabby elder pointed out before sitting back down.

He dipped his head. “I was not. But I was told all of this by a cat that was there. Ravenspirit saw his father murder his own deputy.” He glanced up towards the sky briefly, as though recalling the fallen tom. “It was his intention to tell us the truth before he fainted. When he came to, Tigerclaw threatened to kill him if he said a word against his father.” The tabby on the ground before him squinted angrily at him. They both knew he was lying, at least partially, but it was easier than explaining everything in detail. “But Ravenspirit’s silence wasn’t enough. That’s why he insinuated his own son was a Shadowclan spy to anyone who would listen - so none would believe him even if he did dare to speak up and tell the truth.”

“Stone-heart!” He blinked as Dappleshine stood, her green eyes filled with furious fire as she glared at the deputy whose son she had raised. “It’s because of you that Ravenspirit is dead!”

“How do you know he wasn’t lying?” Darkstripe yowled again, his pale yellow eyes narrow as he glared at Fireheart. Fireheart glared back evenly.

“I spoke with Riverclan.” He stated flatly, as he looked out on the crowd, meeting the gaze of each Thunderclan cat. “I asked myself, if Tigerclaw truly killed Redtail, then who killed Oakheart? Was it Redtail himself?”

“Redtail would never kill another cat!” Longtail spat as he rose to his paws, fur bristling angrily. “I was his apprentice, I should know!”

“I didn’t say he did.” Fireheart pointed out readily as he gazed back at the tabby warrior. “I asked Riverclan if they knew who had killed Oakheart. I was surprised to hear that it was not a cat that killed him, but a rockfall, caused by all of the rain the night before. Redtail and Tigerclaw were there when he died, but neither was responsible for his death.” He tore his eyes away from Longtail to look out at the rest of the crowd. “You can ask any Riverclan cat, and they’ll all tell you the same thing; even Mudwish and Mosspatch, their healers, who are above Clan disputes.”

Cats in the crowd began to uneasily eye their neighbors and whisper to each other. Could what Fireheart was saying really be true? “He thought that if he killed Redtail and pretended to have avenged him, he would be made deputy.” Fireheart explained, knowing that they were wondering the traitor’s motive, just as he had been. “But Quickflash was made deputy instead.”

“And I suppose you’re going to say he killed Quickflash too.” Darkstripe scoffed, but he could see fear in the black tabby’s eyes - he knew the truth, just as Fireheart did. His lip curled into a sneer at the realization.

“He did. He summoned Quickflash to the side of the Thunderpath, where the verge is thinnest, and pushed him out in the path of an incoming Monster. He had no chance to react before it was too late.” Fireheart looked to the back, where Peppermask was leaning against her mother. His heart ached to bring it up, but it had to be done. “This time, he was made deputy. Not through Starclan’s will, but through his own bloodied paws.”

There were hisses and jeers at his words. “Why bring all this up now, when we have Brokentail and his rogues to deal with?” Mousefur called from where she was sitting by her apprentice. “Surely this is a matter for Bluestar to decide.”

“Because he summoned Brokentail’s rogues here today!” Fireheart yowled, his voice loud enough to be heard by Starclan above. “He made sure every warrior and apprentice was out of camp except for Whitestorm and myself. I don’t know what he promised them for helping him - a place in the Clan, maybe, or hunting rights on our territory. Maybe it was just the chance to get their leader back.” He wrinkled his nose in disgust. “It doesn’t matter. He made sure the camp was as unguarded as possible.”

A long, tense moment of silence stretched out between him and the crowd. “Why?” Mistspring questioned at last.

His shoulders sagged in defeat as he realized that even despite all this, Tigerclaw had achieved what he had sought to do. “Because being deputy was never going to be enough for him. He wanted to control the Clan, with no cat able to temper his power.” He looked down at his paws, trying to summon up the courage to tell the Clan a truth that he knew would break them. “While the rogues fought everyone left in camp, he slipped into Bluestar’s den and did what he had to do to make sure he became leader.”

He squeezed his eyes shut and took a deep breath. “He killed Bluestar.”

Stunned silence met his words. “That’s not possible.” He opened his eyes and looked out on the faces of shocked and fearful cats. “Bluestar is - he couldn’t kill her! He wouldn’t kill her!” It was Dustleap speaking, his golden eyes round and horrified.

“He did!” Fireheart howled, tears finally flowing down his face as his grief overcame him. “I realized what he had done, but it was too late. By the time I got inside, he had already killed her. I fought him, but…” He dropped his head in shame. “I couldn’t stop him. I was too late. I’m so sorry.”

It felt as though the weight of the sky itself was pressing down on him, suffocating him, drowning him in his own tears. He didn’t dare look up at the crowd. Despite all his knowledge, despite everything he’d tried to do, he had still failed them. Even if they cast out Tigerclaw, they were still leaderless.

“And you, Tigerclaw?” He recognized Lionheart’s steady voice speak up now, and pictured the giant golden tabby looking down on the other great warrior with disdain. “Have you anything to say in your defense?”

He heard something rustling, and opened his eyes to see Tigerclaw finally sitting up. “Oh, I have something to say, alright.” The traitor growled bitterly, his amber eyes burning as he glared at Fireheart. “That’s a tall tale you’ve told there, Fireheart. It’s a shame not a word of it was true.”

Gasps of shock met his words. “So you deny it?” Tinyfrost growled, his claws unsheathing as he glared at his enemy, the cat he had so longed to deliver justice and vengeance to.

“Fireheart himself admits that his tale comes from the mouth of my dead son, one who everyone knows always had an overactive imagination.” Tigerclaw shook his head wearily. “And even more, his ‘evidence’ that I somehow killed Redtail hinges on Riverclan, who every cat knows would lie to Starclan themselves if they thought it would make them look good!”

Fireheart bristled furiously. “You-!”

“I am ashamed I could not save Redtail before it was too late. That is my guilt to bear.” The deputy’s head hung and he gave a dramatic sigh. “But his death wasn’t my fault - neither was Quickflash’s. Tell me, Fireheart, did you see me shove my predecessor under a Monster’s paws? Or perhaps you’ll say that Ravenspirit witnessed it, or that we should go ask the very Monster that killed him!”

He didn’t give the young warrior a chance to interrupt. “I’ll tell you all what really happened. It’s true that I only left two warriors to guard camp - something that any cat can tell you happens regularly, now that we are not at war with any other Clan.” Tigerclaw shook his head sadly as he looked back up to the crowd. “I was told that Brokentail’s rogues had been scattered, and no cat has reported them on the border in moons. How was I supposed to know they would attack today?”

Fireheart’s heart dropped as he saw cats quietly discussing with each other. Surely they didn’t believe him? “And what about Bluestar’s body? The blood that I found dripping from your maw? You expect them to believe that was a figment of my imagination, too?” He interjected quickly, glaring back at the deputy as his own claws began to unsheathe.

“It’s true that Bluestar is dead. But as you would know if you had taken even a moment to listen to me instead of attacking, I was trying to save her.” Up close, he could see the treacherous deputy’s eyes glittering with thinly veiled contempt as he gazed down on the young warrior. “I did have her blood on my paws, but I was trying to stop the bleeding so a healer could arrive.”

“I said-”

“Tell me, Thunderclan!” Tigerclaw didn’t give him a chance to speak, standing and shouting to the crowd with his booming voice. “Who would you believe? A kittypet that openly admits to believing an enemy Clan over his own? Or your own loyal deputy, who has served this Clan faithfully for many seasons?”

Fireheart shook with rage as he stared up at the murderous tabby. How could this traitor try and claim that this was somehow his fault? Trying to twist his own words against him, if not openly lying about what had happened just moments before?

In the corner of his eye he could see the crowd shift, and he tore his attention away briefly to see the entire Clan looking between him and Tigerclaw. He could see Peppermask also looking around at the Clan, and Frostfur was scowling furiously at the deputy as her white fur hung off her in clumps. The rest of the sea of faces looked doubtful, and he realized with horror that they didn’t believe him.

His words stuck in his throat as he tried to speak, to say something that would convince them. He had known that his tale was difficult to accept, that Tigerclaw was held in such high regard that it would take truly momentous proof to out him as a murderer and codebreaker. But didn’t they understand? Bluestar was dead! If they let Tigerclaw get away with killing her, if he became leader of Thunderclan, then -

“I don’t know, Tigerclaw.” He blinked as he heard a familiar mew behind him. “Who should we believe?”

He turned around, his blood roaring in his ears. That voice - it couldn’t be-

Where in Starclan’s name could she be? He looked around camp once more, anxiety beginning to gnaw at him, before his sights finally settled on the elders’ den, where Speckleflight and One-eye were casually talking to each other. Perhaps she was with Snowkit, given that she had often played with the young tom even before he had joined the elders’ den - not to mention he didn’t see the familiar white form next to his mother. 

He stood up, stretching out his limbs before padding over to the two elders, trying not to seem concerned. “Good evening, One-eye, Speckleflight.” He purred politely, giving them each a respectful nod. “Is Snowkit around?”

Speckleflight’s golden gaze narrowed slightly, and she looked away with a flick of her tail. “He just went off to the dirtplace.” She replied coldly, her voice devoid of the warmth she normally spoke about her son with. 

“I see.” He frowned, trying not to let his nerves overwhelm him. He somehow doubted that even Cinderspark would follow a friend to make dirt. “Well, have you seen Cinderspark anywhere, then? I noticed she’s not in her den, and-”

THUD!

He startled slightly as the fallen tree of the elders’ den shook from the force of some unseen impact. “What was that?” He growled, suddenly on high alert. Had a fox or badger gotten into camp without anyone noticing?

“What was what?” Even as she spoke, Speckleflight seemed almost as unnerved as he was. “I didn’t hear anything, and I haven’t seen Cinderspark, either. Now go away; we hardly need any nosy toms interrupting us.”

“I know I heard something.” He squinted, trying to peer into the darkness of the elders’ den, but he didn’t see anything inside. “You two stay here - I’ll take a look.”

“No!” He blinked as Speckleflight sharply rose to her paws to block him. “I mean - no, it’s fine. If you’re really so worried, I’ll go check it out myself.” She tried to play it off as nonchalance, but he could see a growing desperation in her eyes.

He stared at her, trying to parse her strange behavior. It felt familiar, and though he hesitated to push the queen, he felt he’d come to regret walking away now. “Is everything alright, Speckleflight? Nothing’s threatening Snowkit?” Normally, if her kit was in danger, Speckleflight would be the first to ask for a patrol to go looking for him. Why was that not the case now?

“No! Of course not. Snowkit is- he’s fine.” Her desperation and bluster were replaced by a sudden certainty, and he relaxed slightly. “I’m sure he’ll be back soon. There’s no need to bother him.”

“Oh, give it a rest, Speckleflight.” One-eye huffed from where she was lounging beside the other elder. “He’s basically figured it out. You might as well tell him.”

“Tell me what?” He squinted at the white elder, who was staring patiently at her companion. As he did, that nagging in his subconscious grew stronger, and it slowly dawned on him why the newest elder was acting this way. She was acting just like he had when Tinyfrost had confronted him about Ravenspirit. He turned to her, his gaze softening. “Speckleflight, I - I promise you, as long as it doesn’t break the code, I won’t tell a soul if something is going on with Snowkit. I didn’t tell anyone he was deaf, did I? You know a secret will be safe with me.”

The dappled golden queen paused, surveying him with a narrow gaze. At last, she sighed and looked down at her paws. “Cinderspark is training him, in the space behind our den.” She mewed wearily, all of the fight leaving her as she spoke. 

“Training him?” Fireheart blinked at her in confusion.

“Teaching him to hunt, how to fight. Things a mentor would teach him if he were an apprentice.” Speckleflight snapped, her eyes narrowing to thin slits. “You don’t have a problem with that, do you?”

“No! No, I-” He paused, trying to compose his thoughts. “I just didn’t expect Cinderspark to be doing something like that for him. I’m glad she is, though. What Bluestar did to him… it’s not right.” His whiskers curled slightly at the memory. He didn’t know what place in the Clan there was for a deaf cat, but he was certain that Snowkit didn’t belong in the nursery or the elders’ den. “I’ll keep this a secret, Speckleflight. Snowkit deserves the chance to prove himself. Does anyone else know?”

The two elders visibly relaxed as he spoke. “All the elders do. Some are less favorable to it than others… but they’ve all kept quiet.” Speckleflight answered, her tail tip still twitching from the tension.

“I imagine Patchpelt can’t be pleased with having his snoozing interrupted.” Fireheart purred in response, even as he admired the dedication of the small group of retired warriors. They were some of the most gossip-prone cats in the Clan - asking them to keep a secret as big as this one wasn’t a simple favor, and that they were complying showed a sense of loyalty to the former queen and her young kit he hadn’t expected. “May I go see them? I’d like to see what Cinderspark is teaching him - and who knows, perhaps I can give them a few tips, myself.”

Speckleflight regarded him with a guarded curiosity. “I suppose so.” She relented at last, sweeping her tail towards a small gap beneath the tree that he hadn’t given notice to before. “If you go under there you’ll find them. Just be careful - they can get a bit rough sometimes.”

The two elders waved farewell to him and went back to talking as he ducked under the fallen log. He had just looked up to see a large white blur flying at him.

He rolled out of the way, watching as Snowkit slammed into the spot where he’d been with a wheeze. Cinderspark stood in the middle of the small space behind the elders’ den, which was not quite as big as the training hollow, but still much larger than he had anticipated.

“Fireheart?” The dark gray molly gasped as the two toms got to their feet. “What are you doing back here? Where’s Speckleflight and One-eye?”

He blinked at her, suddenly realizing why the two elders had been sitting outside the den rather than napping inside - they’d been keeping guard. It also occurred to him that it had been quite some time since he’d seen the space outside the elders’ den empty. He couldn’t believe he hadn’t realized what had been happening sooner. “They told me what you’ve been up to lately. I came back here to see how it was going.” He looked over Snowkit, who looked surprisingly upbeat given he had just been thrown across the clearing. “And it seems to be going very well.”

Cinderspark chuffed happily. “We’re practicing using an opponent’s momentum against them! I guess you must’ve heard it even in camp, though.” She frowned and looked down at her paws as she thought about it for a moment. “I suppose the training hollow must be empty with the Gathering. We can probably move up there instead, before someone else catches us.”

“Well, I actually came looking for you. I got worried when I noticed nobody talking my ear off.” He teased, whiskers twitching in amusement as the young molly pouted at him. “But if you keep throwing each other around like that, someone will probably notice eventually.”

“Yeah. The elders keep quiet, but if some cat like Dustleap found out…” Her nose wrinkled in disgust. “Hey, Fireheart! Now that you know, would you be willing to help me teach Snowkit a little? Speckleflight tries, but she’s too soft on him. But with your help, we could really teach him how to deal with tag-teaming, and stuff like that!”

He considered the proposition for a moment. He was tempted to say no - he was busy with so many other things these days, between hunting for Princess and keeping up with patrols. Still, he had come back here under the intention of doing that very thing - and he also felt guilty thinking of Snowkit, bored out of his mind in the elders’ den instead of getting to do normal apprentice things. “I’m pretty busy with hunting fresh-kill for my sister and her kits these days, but if I happen to have free time, I’ll see if I can’t stop by.” He mewed at last.

“Thank you Fireheart!” She almost collided with him as she raced over to give him thanks, causing him to wince in pain. “Hey, lemme just tell Snowkit what’s going on, and then we can get right over to the training hollow!”

He watched her launch into a series of movements, some he vaguely recognized from her explaining when he’d first found out the tom was deaf. He was glad that she had found something to direct all her energy into, and that thing was something that could truly make a difference in the Clan. He hoped, one day, that Snowkit might be able to get a proper apprenticeship, and with Cinderspark’s help he imagined one day the white tom might get that chance.

For a moment, Fireheart wondered if perhaps the apprentice was referring to something ordinary that he hadn’t seen before, like a woodpecker or an evergreen tree. Instead, his blood ran cold after he heard the unmistakable call of his sister.

“Fireheart! Fireheart, where are you?” Her voice floated through the still leafbare air, and it wasn’t long before the other cats in the patrol turned to him.

“It sounds like someone calling your name.” Brackenpaw observed softly. “Do you know who it is?”

He hesitated, not sure what to say. He’d told Princess not to ever enter the forest, not even in search of him. Why was she breaking that rule now, and why did it have to be while he was on patrol with the others? “I can’t tell from here.” Fireheart deflected, quickening his pace. As much as he wished the others would stay behind, he could hear them crunching away behind him in the snow, going off the well-worn patrol path into the deeper woods.

It didn’t take him long to find her, stumbling along in the woods without a clue where she was going. Fireheart paused for a brief moment, knowing all too well that the other warriors would see any sign of familiarity as a betrayal of the code. Then, he realized, it was already too late - Princess had been calling his Clan name, one that had only been given to him when he was supposed to have abandoned the Twolegplace entirely for several seasons.

“Princess.” He mewed to alert her to his presence before stepping out to press into her side. “You should be resting in your housefolks’ nest. What are you doing out here?”

She turned her warm green eyes to him, and for a brief heartbeat the tension he felt from his three Clanmates behind him melted away. “Fireheart! I knew you’d come.” She mewed, returning his greeting and twining her tail with his briefly. She tossed her head defiantly at his question. “I’m leaving them, Fireheart. I’ll never go back to that nest again!”

“Fireheart? Do you know this… kittypet?” He ignored Dustleap’s question behind him, instead focusing on his sister next to him. Her belly was swollen with kits now, just like Goldenflower’s had been less than a quarter-moon before she’d kitted. It was dangerous for her to be out here in this cold, he worried to himself.

“What do you mean, you’re leaving them?” Fireheart asked her incredulously. “What about your kits? They need somewhere safe, and warm-”

“My kits are why I’m doing this.” Princess interrupted him firmly before he could finish speaking. “I won’t let my kits grow up to be used like my housefolk used me. I want to give them a better life, where they have the freedom to choose their own paths.” She fixed him with a hard, determined stare. “I want to join Thunderclan.”

Fireheart wheezed slightly at her statement. Life in the Clans was difficult, and he suddenly wondered if he had given her a rosier depiction of his life as a warrior than he’d intended by avoiding telling her the whole truth about what was happening. “Princess, I-”

“A soft Twoleg toy like you could never make it in Thunderclan!” Dustleap yowled, cutting off whatever he’d been about to say. “It’s not your decision whether or not this kittypet can stay, Fireheart. Get rid of that thing so we can finish this patrol.”

For a heartbeat, he genuinely considered Dustleap’s command. He was right, after all; Princess had never spent even a day outside of a Twoleg nest. How was she supposed to survive in the wild? But as he thought about it, the anger of all the taunts he had received from the spiteful tabby welled up within him. Ever since the first day he had joined Thunderclan, Dustleap had refused to believe a cat with kittypet blood could make it in the wild. He had been wrong then, and he was wrong now.

“You’re right, Dustleap.” Fireheart mewed, turning to the dark tabby that looked so much like his father. Dustleap’s look of smug superiority made his claws itch, but he kept them sheathed. “Unfortunately for you, it’s not your decision either. There’s only one cat in the Clan that can decide whether she stays, and that’s Bluestar.”

Seeing the smug look drop from Dustleap’s face was already reward enough. “But- She-” He sputtered out, turning to Tinyfrost in frustration.

Tinyfrost was as stoic as ever, his icy blue eyes hiding whatever he might be thinking. “Fireheart is right.” The small black tom finally mewed, even as Dustleap bristled angrily. “She has made a petition to join the Clan, and only the leader can decide whether to turn her away. This decision is in Bluestar’s paws now.”

Dustleap’s lip curled bitterly, but he knew he was outnumbered. “Fine. Brackenpaw, go and fetch-”

“It’s too cold out for that. She’ll surely freeze standing here before Brackenpaw can return.” Fireheart blinked in surprise as Tinyfrost spoke again. Was he also enjoying seeing Dustleap flounder like this? “We’ll have to take her back to camp with us.”

“Are you mad?” Dustleap growled, his yellow eyes darting angrily between the two former kittypet warriors. “Show her right to our camp? We might as well just invite the other Clans in for a tour while we’re at it!”

“She is my sister, not a spy.” Fireheart snapped back firmly at Dustleap, tired of the back and forth and mildly insulted by the implication. “Come on, Princess. Our camp is this way.”

If Dustleap said anything else, he didn’t hear it, instead walking into the forest towards camp, making sure to take a slow pace that his sister could follow. She seemed reluctant to follow, hesitating briefly, but it was only a few heartbeats before she was walking in time with him. “I’m sorry for getting you in trouble.” She murmured gently to him. “I know you said that your Clanmates didn’t care for kittypets, but I-”

“Don’t worry about Dustleap. He’d find fault with you even if you grew wings and flew.” He glanced behind him to see that the other three cats were quickly catching up. “You didn’t get me in trouble, I promise.”

She was quiet for a few moments, and he glanced to make sure she wasn’t having trouble keeping pace. “I’m still sorry. I should have told you sooner, but I waited for you and you didn’t come…”

Fireheart winced slightly at that. He’d been meaning to visit her for several days now, but with everything happening with Tigerclaw, he’d been too worried about being followed. That seemed silly, now. “What’s happened has happened.” He replied simply, keeping his eyes on the forest ahead.

In truth, he’d longed to have family in the Clan with him - someone with whom he could share his struggles, and who he knew would always care for him even when times were tough. When they’d first met, he’d even offered for her to join alongside him - an offer he knew was rash and short-sighted, but he hadn’t cared then. He hadn’t had so much to care about then. Yet even though Fireheart hadn’t anticipated this, he couldn’t deny that he wanted her to stay now.

“If you’re going to be staying here, you might as well get to know everyone’s names.” Fireheart mewed after a moment, trying to lighten the tension. “You’ve already met Dustleap, of course. He’s a warrior, like I am. He just got his first apprentice, Brackenpaw - the smaller tabby there.” 

He glanced back to see Dustleap glowering at him, while Brackenpaw ducked his head shyly at the mention of his name. He turned back to his sister with a purr. “The black tom is Tinyfrost. He was my mentor when I was an apprentice.”

His sister ogled the three cats behind them for a few heartbeats, then turned her gaze back to him. “Are- are you sure he’s not an apprentice too?” She did her best to whisper, but he could tell it still carried back to the other three from the hiss of indignation from the little warrior. “He- he’s just so small!” She added quickly, ducking her head apologetically.

“Well, he’s called Tinyfrost for a reason.” Fireheart chuffed, putting emphasis on the first part of his mentor’s name even as he felt the icy blue eyes boring a hole into his head. “Still, size isn’t everything. He’s one of the Clan’s best warriors, and he taught me everything I know today.” Certainly better than Tigerclaw, not that he dared to say that out loud with Dustleap right there.

“I see.” Princess mewed, nodding cordially back to where the other three were walking behind them. “Well, it’s nice to meet you all. I hope I’ll get to know you all better in time.”

He didn’t look to see their reactions, but he could tell from Dustleap’s low growls that he was only barely restraining himself from unleashing a torrent of derisive remarks. He satisfied himself with thinking of the notch in the tabby’s ear that he had left on his very first day in Thunderclan. 

The trek back to camp was slow, and he could tell the others were getting impatient with the pace of travel. Still, Fireheart wasn’t about to rush his sister, especially with how swollen her belly was. He could tell even their slow walk was taking a toll on her, though she was determined to put up a front that she was fine, just as he had on his first trip to the Thunderclan camp.

As they finally reached the ravine, he flicked his ear in surprise as he heard one of the toms behind them rush past. It was Brackenpaw, racing into camp ahead of them. As Fireheart turned questioningly to the other two, Dustleap met his gaze with a condescending smirk. “He’s going to tell Bluestar about our little visitor.” He sneered at the former kittypet and his sister.

His stomach churned nervously at the thought of Bluestar. How would she react, especially after what had transpired between them? He blinked the thoughts away quickly. “That’s a good idea. I wouldn’t want to spring this on her suddenly.” He replied, watching Dustleap’s face scrunch up in anger at the praise. He had clearly been hoping to get a rise out of Fireheart, but he was not going to respond in such a petty manner in front of Princess.

He helped his sister down the slope, finding the bare patches of rock that she could hop on to prevent her from slipping. It felt like an eternity before he was finally showing her the bramble entrance of camp, and with a deep breath following her through the tunnel into the heart of Thunderclan.

Bluestar was already waiting for them next to Brackenpaw. “Fireheart.” She greeted him cordially, but her flicking tail tip and fiery glare told him how much trouble he was in. “Brackenpaw tells me you’ve brought your kittypet sister back to camp. Why?”

He stood tall in front of her, trying not to let himself be cowed by her anger. “Her name is Princess, and she wishes to join Thunderclan.” He beckoned her forward to stand beside him with his tail, even as his heart beat faster and faster. Surely Bluestar wouldn’t take her frustrations with him out on her? “Princess, this is Bluestar. She is Thunderclan’s leader, and it’s up to her whether or not you can stay.”

“It’s not just up to me.” He blinked in surprise at the leader’s sharp retort. “I thought you would have understood by now, Fireheart, that the actions of one cat affect the entire Clan. And it is up to the Clan to decide whether to accept a new member.” He watched her blue gaze flick over the form of his sister before turning and scaling up the Highrock. “Let all cats old enough to catch their own prey gather beneath the Highrock for a Clan meeting!”

Even as her voice rang out, he could see faces cautiously appearing around camp - cats that had smelled his sister’s foreign scent and were curious what had happened. They came out of the shadows at her call, assembling beneath the shadow of the leader even as heads craned curiously towards his direction. Dustleap and Tinyfrost left to join them, leaving Fireheart alone with his sister.

“It is rare that an outsider comes to join Thunderclan. As you all know, Fireheart was the first such cat in many seasons to join the Clan. You have all seen him prove himself and earn his name; he has worked diligently to become a warrior just as any forest-born cat.” He scanned the crowd as she spoke, gauging their mood. Only Dustleap’s tail was lashing angrily; the rest seemed cautious but curious. “Now he has brought his sister from the Twolegplace, and claims she wishes to join Thunderclan.” Her blazing blue eyes turned on his sister. “Tell us, stranger; why should we allow you to join our noble ranks?”

Princess’ eyes flicked nervously to her brother beside her, and he nosed her cheek gently. “Speak the truth, whatever it may be.” He whispered to her. “I am sure they will see your passion, just as I have.”

She nodded and stepped forward nervously to gaze at the crowd. Most of the warriors and apprentices were still out on patrol, meaning that it was largely queens and elders that sat waiting to judge her. He hoped that they would show his sister the same courtesy they did him, but he also knew that they could be cantankerous and grumpy. What if they rejected her instead of listening?

“Cats of Thunderclan,” Princess mewed, soft at first, but slowly growing louder. “I am honored to finally meet the warriors I have heard so much about. Fireheart tells me that you are brave, and righteous, and honorable. Those are qualities I hope to instill in my own kits, one day.”

She glanced back at him, panic washing over her face for a moment. He nodded encouragingly, and she took a deep breath and looked back out at the gathered cats. “My brother has told me how strong the bonds within a Clan are. How you care for each other like family, and how you love…” She trailed off for a moment, glancing down at her paws. “Love is why I have come to you today. As you likely see, my belly is swollen with kits that are soon to be born. Like many kittypets, I did not love their father - I didn’t even know him. My mate was chosen for me by Twolegs.”

He heard a few gasps of shock in the crowd. “I have heard how different life is in the Clans. The freedom to roam your forest territories, the pleasure of tasting fresh kills, the choice to take whatever mate you choose - all of these are luxuries I do not have as a kittypet. And they are luxuries my kits will never have, if they are born in a Twoleg nest.” Her green eyes shimmered with stinging tears as she looked out at the crowd. “I want their lives to be different from mine. I want them to be better than mine. That is why I have come to ask to join your noble Clan.”

“I harbor no delusions about the difficulties of Clan life. I know how soft and comfortable my former life as a kittypet was.” She stood a little taller, straightening her shoulders slightly. “But if you would have me, I pledge my life and the lives of my kits to Thunderclan to serve as warriors. I will never return to the wretched Twolegs who would treat my life and the lives of my kits as a mere plaything. I promise that to each and every one of you.”

There was silence as she finished speaking, and he looked over the crowd carefully. Many were stoic and hard to read, like One-eye and Smallear. Others looked sympathetic, like Rosetail, but he wasn’t sure if it was enough to sway their opinions. Yellowfang and Dewpaw sat off to the side, but he knew better than to hope that they would interfere in Clan affairs on his behalf.

He held his breath, waiting for someone to break the silence. “Isn’t having one kittypet in the Clan enough?” His ears lowered as he heard Dustleap’s familiar yowl from amongst the crowd. “She’ll be nothing but a burden, eating all our food until she’s had her fill before returning to the Twolegplace. In the middle of leafbare, no less! We need to send this Twoleg toy back to where she belongs before we all starve.”

His eyes scanned the crowd desperately, but he could see a couple of the elders nodding agreement. “The Clan has enough mouths to feed already.” He heard Patchpelt call. “Dustleap’s right: the kindest thing we could do is send her back. She’s much too soft to live long in the wild.”

He looked over the crowd, his hope faltering. He could see his sister shrink back from the hostility, and as much as he longed to comfort her, there was no comfort he could give that would block out what was happening. It seemed the Clan had decided; Princess would not be allowed to join.

Just as he saw Bluestar open her mouth to speak, a voice rang out from the crowd. “You dare to call this queen soft?”

He blinked in confusion, searching the crowd for the source of the call. To his shock, Frostfur stood up, her blue eyes filled with a roaring fire as she looked at the cats around her. “Before us stands a queen that has just abandoned everything she knows to humbly submit herself to the whims of the Clan. Not only that, but she has offered her kits as thanks - to grow up as warriors, to defend the Clan and give their lives for us.” 

The crowd parted to stare at her, all in shock of hearing her defend an outsider. “Any queen can tell you of the fierce love they have for their kits, even before they are born. We would do anything to give our kits the best chance they have at life.” The white queen turned to stare up at the leader. “I am sure even you, Bluestar, remember that feeling.”

“And yet despite that, this queen has left her warm nest, one that would surely protect her kits from any harm that might befall them.” Frostfur turned back to Princess and gave her a nod of respect. “She has braved the cold without complaint, has spoken to us from the depths of her heart, and is willing to give the greatest sacrifice a mother could give - and you dare to call that soft?” 

Fireheart didn’t know what to say - and for a moment, it seemed like no one else in the Clan did either. At last, Bluestar composed herself. “Dappleshine? Speckleflight?” She turned to the two older queens amongst the crowd.

Speckleflight herself looked baffled at the sudden shift in behavior from the younger queen, but after a moment slowly dipped her head. “Frostfur speaks the truth. The lives of her kits are paramount to a queen, and she would not offer them idly. We should respect that, at least.”

Dappleshine nodded assent from beside her mate. “It may take time, but the Clan needs more warriors. This queen has spent the past few moons being well cared for by Twolegs - her kits will be born healthy and strong. It would be foolish to turn away such a boon because of its origin.”

Even Smallear was nodding now. “Fireheart has been a fine warrior for Thunderclan. If we’re to assume blood is so important, then we should happily let his sister join. If her children are half the warriors he is, then we will be lucky to have them.”

One-eye snorted and muttered something under her breath beside him, earning a hiss from the elderly tom. Still, it was clear that after Frostfur’s speech, the majority of the Clan seemed open to the idea, if not welcoming. He looked nervously up to Bluestar, who was still glaring down at them. His heart lurched. Surely she wouldn’t-

“It seems the Clan is in agreement. Fireheart’s sister will be allowed to stay, and her kits raised to become Thunderclan warriors.” There were a few grumbles, mostly from Dustleap, but there was no dissent this time. “She will be Fireheart’s responsibility to hunt for, until such time that her kits have become part of the Clan.”

His heart leaped, and he glanced at Princess with barely contained glee. She would get to stay! “Will there be a naming ceremony?” One-eye called out from the crowd.

Fireheart held his breath as he looked up at the leader. Would his sister get the same honor he had upon being accepted into Thunderclan?

“You’ve never been to a Gathering before?” Yellowfang retorted dryly, even as she sat down in front of him. “You go up on the Great Rock, you announce Thunderclan’s news when it’s your turn. Do a little bit of posturing with Crookedstar and Nightstar, and you’re done.”

“Yes, I- That’s not what I meant!” Fireheart sighed exasperatedly at the grumpy healer. Surely she understood why he was afraid? “The other Clans, they’ll ask questions about why Bluestar’s not there, and I don’t have a good answer! What if they think we’re weak now that we’ve lost our greatest fighter and attack us? We just drove off Brokentail’s rogues; we can’t afford to get into a war right now!”

Yellowfang watched him worry with half-lidded copper eyes. “Just tell them the same thing we told the Clan - that she’s sick and not yet well enough to travel tonight. As for the rest, trust in your warriors. If the other Clans try anything, I’m sure Thunderclan would be happy to put them in their place.” She huffed softly at him, standing up and brushing against his coat. “Make sure to announce your sister’s kits as well. Bluestar didn’t do that during the last Gathering, and five potential new warriors are enough to make any Clan think twice.”

“I- Okay.” He took a deep breath in and out. The old molly’s words were as wise as ever, even if layered in her usual dry wit. “Thank you, Yellowfang.”

She flicked her tail in acknowledgement as she trotted towards her den, leaving Fireheart to ascend the Highrock alone. He saw eyes glimmering at him from around camp - judging him, he was sure, for taking the leader’s place. He glanced down for a moment, before quickly pulling his head back. The Highrock was dizzyingly tall from up here - much too tall for him to dare ponder leaping down from. He tried to steady himself by looking up towards the foliage covering camp. Up here, on the giant rock that overlooked camp, it seemed to be only a short jump away from him. 

“Let all cats old enough to catch their own prey gather beneath the Highrock for a Clan meeting!” He called out, watching as shadows darted out from all around the edges of camp to assemble beneath him. It was powerful to watch - he could only imagine how Bluestar had felt, the first time she came up onto the Highrock.

“As I’m sure you’ve all noticed, I’m not Bluestar.” No one laughed at his poor attempt at a joke, and he couldn’t tell if any whiskers had twitched even weakly at him. “Unfortunately, she hasn’t recovered enough from her illness to attend the Gathering tonight. I will be going in her stead.”

There was a great deal of grumbling over his words, but no cat dared to challenge him directly. “I will address the Clans with what happened. Until then, all that should be said is that Bluestar is ill and that I will answer everything when I speak. Is that clear?”

There was a little more grumbling, but it seemed that most cats had expected this. “Who’s going?” He heard a cat call - Cinderspark, he realized, picking her out of the crowd next to Snowkit.

He gulped, realizing he’d forgotten to think about who should go. He had been so busy fretting over Bluestar… “Well, uh, Yellowfang and Dewpaw will go, of course. And any elders and queens that want to come are welcome to do so.” As long as they could keep their mouths shut, he thought with a glance towards Patchpelt, who was scowling bitterly at him. 

He stared down at the warriors and apprentices, trying to remember who had remained behind in camp with him during the last Gathering. He also didn’t want cats there that might contradict him, or start a fight. “Er, Tinyfrost, Lionheart, Dappleshine, Peppermask…” All warriors that he trusted and was sure would follow his orders, but he needed to bring some apprentices as well - they wouldn’t take kindly to being left behind. “Uhm, Mistspring, Willowbranch, Brightpaw, and Cherrypaw. Oh, and Whitestorm will be in charge of camp while we’re gone.”

The crowd disbanded with disgruntled murmurs, but thankfully there were no protests over who he had chosen to go. He turned and quickly dismounted the Highrock, thankful to find himself on solid ground once more. Whitestorm gave him a courteous nod as he padded past the young deputy to sit by Bluestar’s den, patiently guarding the vulnerable leader inside. The cats he had called assembled by the camp entrance, watching him as he made his way over.

Fireheart led the patrol out of camp, trying not to let his anxieties show to the cats behind him. The Highrock had already seemed astronomical in size, and now he had to climb the Great Rock, which was even bigger - how was he supposed to look down on the whole Gathering and speak? He wasn’t afraid of heights - at least, he didn’t think he was - but the mere thought of standing next to the great leaders of the other Clans sent a bolt of fear through his heart. He wasn’t ready. He wasn’t-

“Hey, Fireheart.” He turned to see Peppermask had padded up beside him as the patrol entered the forest. “It’s a beautiful night, isn’t it? The way the moonlight hits the branches and turns them silver… Leafbare might be miserable, but I think there’s a majesty in these silent nights.”

He tilted his head at her, baffled as to why she was bringing up such mundane matters. Still, as he glanced up at the trees as they traveled past, he had to admit she was right: the stark branches silhouetted against the stars, the way that the moon highlighted them against the night; at any other time, he would sit and admire the beauty of it all. “It is quite pretty.” He admitted slowly, turning to look back at the patrol behind him, but she gently slapped him with her tail and forced him to keep his eyes forward. “What? Do you need something?”

“You’re panicking.” She mewed, quietly enough that only he could hear. “Don’t focus on them. Focus on yourself, and what’s around you.”

He winced guiltily, knowing all too well she was right. “Is it that obvious?”

Her whiskers twitched as she gazed at him with her soothing green eyes. “The cats that don’t know you as well probably can’t tell. They don’t know what to look for. But I figured I’d stop you before your fear-scent overwhelmed us all…” She nudged him as they ran, a teasing grin lighting up her muzzle. “You can do this, Fireheart. You fought Tigerclaw and won; this is nothing compared to that.”

As much as he wanted to believe her, they both knew it wasn’t as simple as that. “At least with Tigerclaw, it was decided in moments. This is different. What if I mess up? I’m going to be speaking for the whole Clan, and I-”

“It’s a lot of responsibility, yes.” She interrupted him before he could spill all his worries out into the cold air. “But one bad Gathering isn’t going to change everything. It’s a lot of posturing, but that’s all it is; posturing. Our Clan is weak now, yes, but so are the others thanks to leafbare. They won’t want to risk their own Clans attacking right now, either. As long as you don’t make dirt out of them, I doubt you’ll be starting any wars tonight.”

The gray tabby was right, as she always was. He took a deep breath in and out, watching his breath billow out into a great cloud that dissipated as he jumped through it. “Thank you, Peppermask.” He told her softly. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

“Of course you don’t.” She purred in response as they began to slow. They had now reached the log bridge across the river; from here, it was only a short journey up the slope to Fourtrees. “I’ll stay here and make sure everyone gets across safely, since you don’t have a deputy to do it for you.”

He blinked gratefully at her and leaped up onto the slick log. This time, he didn’t hesitate about wrapping his paws around the smooth wood below him and scooting ungracefully across; with how thin the ice was, a fall would surely plunge him into the waters below, and he wasn’t eager to arrive at the Gathering soaked.

The first one to follow him was his old mentor, Tinyfrost. “Fireheart.” He said by way of greeting as he sat by the ginger tom. “I know no one has told you yet, but you’ve been doing a good job as deputy. Better than most Clan cats would, I suspect.”

The words of praise shocked him, and he stared at Tinyfrost in baffled confusion. “I- Thank you.” He stuttered out after several heartbeats. “You’re not jealous? You’re a better candidate than I would be.” One that had taught an apprentice, for starters, though he didn’t say that aloud.

Tinyfrost chuffed as though he’d told a particularly funny joke. “Jealous? Hardly. I don’t think any cat would want to be in your paws - except Tigerclaw, apparently.” He sneered at the name of his banished enemy. “Being deputy is a thankless task, and you’ve not even Bluestar to help guide you. I’m sure a lesser cat would be flattened under the weight of it all.”

Fireheart glanced across the bridge, where Peppermask was watching carefully as Brightpaw was inching across. Had he been listening to her comfort him? He wasn’t sure, and didn’t dare to ask. “I’m doing my best.” He mewed at last. 

“I’m sure it will be enough. I’ve seen what happens when you put your mind to something. Only a fool would stand in your way then.” Tinyfrost watched Cherrypaw step up onto the bridge, his icy gaze unreadable. “Good luck with the Gathering, Fireheart. Don’t let them intimidate you.” 

With that, the little tom slipped off to go speak to Lionheart, leaving the ruddy deputy still slightly bewildered at the whole conversation. He didn’t get a chance to ponder it as Peppermask dropped down beside him. “That’s everyone.” She told him with a curt nod. 

“Thank you.” He gave her a quick nudge of affection before standing and flicking his tail for the Gathering patrol to follow him. They did so readily, climbing the slope to Fourtrees just as they had done for moons and moons before. He tried not to wish that Bluestar was beside him, just as strong and regal as she had always been before Tigerclaw’s attack.

He paused at the top of the slope. He could see dozens of cats gathered below, sharing tongues like old friends. On the Great Rock, he could see six shapes, with more clustered in its shadow; it seemed as though Thunderclan was the last to arrive. He swallowed hard, trying not to let fear well up in him once more. “Remember; I will explain everything when the Gathering starts. Don’t let the other Clans goad you.” He glanced at the end of the line, where the apprentices were crouched. He hoped they would have as much sense as he had had at their age, but he didn’t know them well enough to judge that for certain.

Still, he tried not to let it bother him as he raised his tail in silent signal for the others to follow him down the slope. Once more, he felt a rush of wild joy as they careened down the slope as one, their paws thudding against the ground in time. The crowd of cats looked up to them, perking ears and waving tails in greeting as the Thunderclan cats began to mingle among them.

Fireheart took one last deep breath at the base of the slope before making his way through the crowd, padding up to the base of the Great Rock. Yellowfang and Dewpaw slipped off from behind him over to where the healers were talking, leaving him alone to clamber atop the boulder and meet with the leaders and other deputies.

He had only just made it to the top when he was greeted with two bristling cats. “The Great Rock is for deputies and leaders only!” Leopardflame was snarling in his face before he even had time to react. “What are you doing here? Where’s Bluestar?”

His heart raced in his chest, but he stood his ground against the two. “I know that. I’m Thunderclan’s deputy now.” He responded, doing his best to keep cool and level-headed like Bluestar would. “Bluestar couldn’t make it tonight. I’ll be addressing the Gathering in her place.”

“You? Deputy?” The dark gray tom beside the spotted Riverclan deputy stepped forward, tail lashing. “Who’s your apprentice? What happened to Tigerclaw?”

“None of the Thunderclan cats seem to be surprised.” Fireheart blinked past the two glaring at him to see Tallstar peering over the edge of the Great Rock at the crowd below. “Fireheart may be an outsider, but he is familiar with our customs, and he has a warrior’s spirit. If he says he is deputy now, I believe him.”

The other two leaders glanced at the Windclan tom, considering his words. At last, Nightstar flicked his tail to the tom beside Leopardflame. “Tallstar speaks true. It seems Thunderclan has had a change of leadership. Stand down, Wolfstep.” The dark gray tom only bristled further, even as he glanced furtively back at his leader. “Now. That is an order.”

“You too, Leopardflame.” Crookedstar regarded Fireheart with a nonchalant air, his yellow-green gaze as unreadable as Bluestar’s often was. “There’s no need to intimidate Thunderclan’s new deputy right now.”

The two deputies glanced at each other, as though considering openly defying their leaders. At last, they stepped back, glowering at the ginger tom as he stepped past them to sit next to the other leaders - where Bluestar belonged, if she were at the Gathering.

“What has happened to Bluestar?” Fireheart turned his head to Crookedstar, who was scrutinizing him now. The light tabby’s tail twitched, and for a moment he thought he saw a flash of concern in the Riverclan leader’s eyes. “Why exactly could she not make it tonight? And why has she replaced her deputy so suddenly?”

He glanced at the other cats surrounding him, trying to figure out how to properly word what had happened. After a long moment, he realized it would take much too long to explain the whole sordid story to them privately. “Bluestar is currently unwell, and needs rest. I don’t wish to repeat myself, so I will explain everything once the Gathering has started. It is a long story, so I would like to go first, if that is alright.”

Everyone else didn’t seem pleased with his answer, but after being told off by their leaders the deputies didn’t seem interested in arguing with him. “I see.” Crookedstar rumbled at last, frowning at the Thunderclan cat in front of him. “Well, as the oldest leader among us, it is up to Tallstar to decide the order in which we speak.”

The black and white tom scoffed at the other leader. “Oh, don’t pretend as if you aren’t as curious as I am! I’m sure we’re all very interested in hearing what news he has to share. Very well, Fireheart; Thunderclan may announce their news first.” He pondered the other two leaders for a moment. “Shadowclan will be next, then Riverclan. I will go last.” 

Crookedstar and Nightstar nodded their acceptance of his order. Fireheart wondered briefly if there was some sort of power dynamic at work here that he was not privy to; had he upset them by asking to go first? He didn’t get the chance to ask as Tallstar stepped forward and let out a yowl loud enough to be heard across all the Clan territories.

“Cats of all the Clans!” The Windclan leader called, looking down on the crowd as they began to assemble below him. “Even though the gentle warmth of newleaf beckons, the cold chill of leafbare still grips us, and my thin Windclan pelt can hardly handle the breeze up here on the Great Rock.” His whiskers twitched as he looked down on the cats below, purrs rippling through the crowd. “And so, now that all of us are here, I’d like to get started, so I can get back to my warm nest before my whiskers freeze off!”

With that, he stepped back, turning and giving a stately nod of respect to Fireheart as he sat down. The Thunderclanner gulped, suddenly feeling as though a hard rock had lodged itself in his throat. Still, he took his place at the front of the rock, hoping his fear didn’t show to all the cats below. And below they were - it was quite a distance down from the rock to the crowd. Several fox-lengths at least, he thought, maybe even more - a dangerous height to fall from. If he slipped-

He shook his head and looked up to the stars that twinkled merrily above. Starclan was watching over him - they wouldn’t let him fall. He would be fine. The only question was, where did he start?

“Cats of all Clans,” He began, trying not to let his voice shake as he addressed them. “At the beginning of leafbare, Thunderclan found evidence that Brokentail and his group of rogues had settled on our border. Knowing the danger that these cats presented, not just to us, but to all the Clans, Thunderclan decided to strike swiftly. We invaded their camp - myself included - and dealt what we believed was a decisive blow.”

Whispers broke out amongst the crowd as they wondered where he was going - even the Thunderclan cats seemed a bit confused. “Over these past moons, we had not seen even a whisker of the rogues. We believed we were victorious.” He glanced down at his paws, swallowing back the lump in his throat. “We were wrong.”

“Less than a moon ago, they attacked our camp. A common tactic of theirs, one that they often utilized when they held Shadowclan hostage. If it had just been the rogues, then Thunderclan would have fended them off, just as we have before. But it was not.” He raised his head to look out at the cats below. They were silent now, hanging on his every word. “Unbeknownst to us, two of our own were traitors - wicked cats that sought to use Brokentail’s band for their own benefit. Those cats were Tigerclaw and his old apprentice, Darkstripe.”

He paused, heartbeats of silence stretching out as the crowd processed his words. Then there were yowls of shock and outrage below as the other Clans fully absorbed the weight of his words. A glance to the cats on the rock found them staring at him in horror: the other deputies especially, who had sat beside the accused tom and shared tongues only the moon prior. 

He waited for them to settle down, which took several tense moments. “Not only had Tigerclaw shown them the way to our camp, but he also laced prey he gave to Bluestar with a potent poison - one that she only survived through the grace of Starclan. She still recovers from its effects now, which is why she could not come tonight.” He could see approving nods from some of the senior Thunderclan warriors below as he spoke. Not only was poison a snake-hearted tactic, one that would solidify Tigerclaw’s status as a traitor, but it would also explain any strange weakness that still plagued their silver leader in the coming moons. 

“By doing this, he hoped to gain control of Thunderclan, with Brokentail’s rogues helping to keep us hostage. Had our brave warriors not realized his plot in time, he likely would have succeeded.” Fireheart shook his head, the mere thought of Tigerclaw succeeding enough to strike fear in his heart. “Thankfully, Thunderclan managed to repel the rogue invasion. Not only that, but I bear news that many among you will enjoy hearing; during the fight, one of our warriors dealt a fatal blow to Brokentail, who was on his last life. Our healer confirmed his death and buried him as was appropriate for his deeds.”

Howls of dark joy erupted from below as he spoke. There was not a single cat in the Clans that had not been affected by his terrible reign over Shadowclan, and only a few had even the slightest reason to mourn him. He blinked as Nightstar and Tallstar both stepped forward beside him.

“This is a joyous moon indeed if that foxheart no longer walks among the living.” Nightstar yowled as the crowd simmered down below him. “No Clan knows better than Shadowclan the depths of what that kit-killer is capable of. Knowing his great evil can no longer threaten us is an immense relief, one that we thank Thunderclan for granting us.”

“No Clan besides Windclan, you mean.” Tallstar growled from Fireheart’s other side. “Long have the ghosts of my fallen Clanmates begged for vengeance against the invader that drove us from our home. I have often wished that I could strip each life from that undeserving criminal, that worst of villains, and inflict upon him the pain and suffering of each and every Windclanner by a hundredfold. Revenge is not always the answer, but there is nothing else that Brokentail deserves.”

There were yowls of agreement from the Windclanners below; Fireheart spotted Thrushwing among them, howling her grief for the cats that had been lost at Brokentail’s claws. “Windclan thanks Thunderclan once more for what they have done. May Starclan bless you for moons to come.” With that, the skinny Windclan leader stepped back to allow Fireheart to continue.

He thought for a moment that Nightstar might respond to Tallstar’s cutting comments, but instead the dark Shadowclanner stepped back as well, leaving the ginger tom alone at the front of the Great Rock. “Tigerclaw and Darkstripe were banished for their crimes against Thunderclan and against the code.” He continued once the crowd had finally silenced. “We have reason to believe they are now traveling in league with Brokentail’s band, and were last spotted heading across the Thunderpath, towards Shadowclan territory.”

The Clan cats below him were more solemn now as he spoke, reminding them of the reason Brokentail’s rogues had attacked in the first place. “They are to be considered a danger to all the Clans, and should not be approached alone. Thunderclan disavows them, and recommends they be killed on sight, just like any other murdering rogue would.” Fireheart could see cats nodding below him, and even the leaders beside him seemed to agree with his words. “As you may have guessed, I have been named Thunderclan’s new deputy by Bluestar.” At least for now, he thought to himself. Once Bluestar was better, she would name a different deputy - a better deputy.

“In lighter news, Thunderclan has welcomed five new kits to our nursery; Cloudkit, Rainkit, Lynxkit, Sorrelkit, and Sootkit.” Fireheart couldn’t help but purr at the thought of his sister’s kits; they were walking now, and even starting to climb out of their nests. It wouldn’t be long before they were real pawfuls that all the queens would have to work to keep in line. “I am certain that they will soon be great warriors of Thunderclan, and serve the code and Starclan faithfully.”

He stumbled back to stand by the other leaders, his head beginning to reel as he finished. He had managed to get through the worst of it; whatever else happened now, at least the other Clans knew of Tigerclaw’s treachery. He watched as Nightstar stepped forward, but his ears buzzed as the other leader began speaking. He took a deep breath in and out, trying to calm himself. 

He felt a nudge against his shoulder, and looked to see Tallstar looking down at him with gentle golden eyes. “You did well.” The black-and-white leader mewed quietly, so that only the two of them could hear. “I am sorry to hear about Tigerclaw. When I heard you speak of him on our return home, I did not… I had not realized how far he was willing to go for power. Perhaps I should have offered to intervene, on your behalf.”

Fireheart blinked gratefully at the Windclan tom, even as he shook his head. “I don’t think it would have prevented anything. Tigerclaw was cunning and hid his tracks well. If you had done anything, I think he would have manipulated our Clan into going to war against yours.”

Tallstar’s brows furrowed with worry as he spoke. “You may be right. It has been a long time since Thunderclan and Windclan have been at war, something that has only been prevented by Bluestar’s desire to keep the peace. Sometimes I forget that not all cats have seen the horrors that resulted from those bitter days.” He sighed and shook his head, redirecting his gaze to Nightstar at the front. “We will keep watch for Tigerclaw, and give him no quarter if he comes to our moors. And should Thunderclan ever need help, know that you need only ask and Windclan will aid you.”

Fireheart nodded mutely at the Windclan leader, unsure what else to say, but the black and white tom turned his ears to the front of the Great Rock, leaving the ginger tom alone with his thoughts. He had gotten through the most daunting part of the Gathering now; whatever else happened, it would turn out fine. Instead, he allowed his thoughts to drift away; thoughts of a better moon ahead, when Bluestar had recovered and the Clan thrived.

It still felt wrong to be sitting beneath the Highrock in place of a real deputy - a cat with experience that the Clan trusted. Though he did his best to ignore them, he could still see the looks that many of the warriors and elders gave him across camp - looks of disdain or pity, depending on their stance. Though none were openly hostile when he assigned them patrols or gave them orders, he knew they were all waiting for another cat to fill his paws.

Then there were some that didn’t look at him at all, he thought to himself with a frown as he watched Sandstorm slink her way across camp, carrying brambles to help reinforce the nursery. He’d expected the temperamental young warrior to be one of the ones that challenged him the most, but she barely even spoke around him, and never raised her head to look him in the eyes. Graystripe was the same way, speaking only in respectful one word answers, but as much as it pained the ginger tom to hear his former friend speak that way he had to admit that part of him reveled in finally seeing the other tom realizing his mistakes.

“Fireheart.” He turned his head to see Whitestorm approaching, giving a respectful nod to the young deputy as he did so.

“Whitestorm.” He purred in response, ever grateful to see the older tom. In the past few days, he had been a welcome support whenever the new deputy was feeling unsure of himself. “How can I help you?”

The snowy tom flicked his tail towards the apprentices’ den, where Brightpaw and Brackenpaw were sharing her thrush while Thornpaw sat off to the side. “I’m sure you recall that Tigerclaw was Thornpaw’s mentor. While Dustleap and Sandstorm have been sharing responsibility of him, they both have their own apprentices and their own struggles to deal with right now.” He sat down beside Fireheart with a gentle sigh. “Neither are equipped to give him the attention he needs. He needs a new mentor - and as deputy, it is your responsibility to find him one.”

“It is?” Fireheart’s heart dropped as it so often did these days, fear striking it whenever he was reminded of a new responsibility. “Er- Okay, I suppose. Do you think I should ask Goldenflower and Frostfur? They’re his mothers, after all, surely they know what’s best for him.”

He couldn’t read the senior warrior’s expression as he looked down at his deputy beside him. “They have elected to leave the decision to you.” Whitestorm told him  gently, sweeping his fluffy tail over his paws. “You could take him on yourself, you know. It would be… unconventional, perhaps, but it would be a way of ensuring your deputyship meets the warrior code.”

Fireheart considered it briefly. He had heard the whispers about camp, as much as he tried to ignore them, of how his being named deputy meant bad luck for Thunderclan. And while he wasn’t sure if Starclan disapproved or not, he had to admit that he felt as though he was floundering, as if he had been thrown into the river and would be swept under at any moment. He couldn’t deny that the thought of quashing those rumors was tempting.

“No.” He decided after a moment of thought. “You said Thornpaw needs attention and care, and I’m a new deputy who doesn’t know what he’s doing. I won’t be able to give him what he needs to thrive as a warrior.” He gazed across camp, taking in the warriors sitting in the sun and beginning to share tongues. “All the other mentors are young, and just got their first apprentice. They need an older mentor that can guide them, one that’s had an apprentice before. Plus, an experienced mentor will know how to attend to Thornpaw’s needs.”

Whitestorm closed his eyes and nodded along thoughtfully as the ginger deputy spoke. “It sounds like you already have a cat in mind, then.” He rumbled, opening one golden eye to look down on the tom beside him.

For a heartbeat, he considered Whitestorm beside him. The senior warrior had been mentor to Sandstorm, after all, who was likely a difficult apprentice at best. But then he discarded the thought - he needed Whitestorm here to guide him, and the older tom was already too concerned with Bluestar to take on an apprentice. Instead, as his gaze surveyed camp, it fell upon where Frostfur and Goldenflower were talking with Lionheart. “What about Lionheart? He’s already mentored Graystripe, and he recently went through the loss of his mentor as well. He would be a good fit to take care of Thornpaw.”

Whitestorm swiped his tongue around his jaws as he considered it. “Aside from Dappleshine and myself, he would be the most experienced mentor that’s still a warrior. And you’re right; he is one of the cats better suited for Thornpaw’s particular issues.” After a couple of heartbeats, Whitestorm dipped his head in approval. “Yes, I think Lionheart is a good fit. Still, as deputy, you should make sure he wants an apprentice. Surprise mentorships rarely go well.”

The white warrior’s whiskers twitched in amusement, and Fireheart briefly recalled how Bluestar had sprung him on Tinyfrost; though they’d eventually reached an understanding, the first moon had been impossibly difficult. “You’re right. Will you come with me?” He asked as he stood. The warrior beside him nodded in response, and together the two padded across camp to where Lionheart was.

“Lionheart?” He asked softly as the golden warrior touched noses with his mate in greeting. “May I speak with you for a moment?”

The mighty tom perked his ears curiously, green eyes shining as they looked down on the young deputy. “Of course, Fireheart. As long as you don’t mind my sister and her mate listening in as well?” He glanced at the two queens beside him, who were also watching Fireheart with interest.

He dipped his head in greeting to both of them. “Of course not. In fact, I’d like their approval too.” He looked back to Lionheart, trying to steady himself as his heart began to beat faster in his chest. “As you know, Thornpaw was mentored to Tigerclaw.” As he said the traitor’s name, he saw brief anger flash over Frostfur’s face, and recalled the queen’s hatred towards the exiled tabby. Had she approved of him mentoring her son? Perhaps she’d originally had another cat in mind, but Bluestar had overridden her. “He needs a new mentor, one who can help him navigate these difficult times. I’d like you to mentor him, if that’s alright with you.”

They sat in silence for a moment as the older tom regarded him, and for a brief moment he feared that Lionheart would deny him. At last, the mighty golden tabby sat back and released a ferocious yawn. “I don’t know, Fireheart. I’m getting awfully slow in my old age. I don’t know if I can take on such a young charge…”

Fireheart bristled at the languid remarks. “When I was an apprentice, you told me you were only fourteen seasons old! It hasn’t been that long since then - you’re, what, seventeen seasons? Eighteen?” He huffed, trying not to feel too small as he glared up into the other tom’s green eyes. “Surely you’re not retiring to the elders’ den just yet!”

He caught the faintest hints of a smile at the edges of the golden tabby’s maw, and realized that Lionheart had been playing coy. “Well, I suppose when you put it that way… Alright, I’ll take on Thornpaw.” He stretched out one giant golden paw, then the other. “Besides, it’ll be good practice running around after a little youngster before our own arrive…”

“Lionheart! You promised not to tell!” Whitestorm gently shoved into his mate’s side with an angry huff, but Fireheart could see a cheesy grin creeping over the white tom’s face all the same.

“You’re having kits? Congratulations!” Fireheart purred as he watched the two lean into each other. There had been rumors for several seasons that the toms were thinking about having their first litter - it seemed those rumors were finally coming true. “I’m sure you’ll be great fathers.”

Whitestorm ducked his head - if he didn’t know the great warrior, he almost would think it was because of embarrassment. “Yes, Yellowfang just confirmed this morning Frostfur is carrying them. They’ll be due in about a moon’s time.”

He dipped his head to the white queen sitting there, who seemed mildly amused by the whole affair. “I’m glad to hear it. I have no doubt they’ll be great warriors one day, a true credit to Thunderclan.” He turned back to Lionheart as he rubbed his cheek against Whitestorm’s. “So then, shall I tell Bluestar the good news? About your mentorship, of course - I’m sure Whitestorm will want to tell her the other bit personally.”

The golden tom nodded as he pulled away from his mate. “You may. Now’s as good a time for a ceremony as any; the Clan could certainly use some cheering up.”

Fireheart nodded in agreement, even as he stepped away and padded back towards the Highrock. He passed Tinyfrost, who was guarding Bluestar’s den, with a polite nod before he pushed his way through the lichen curtain. He did his best to prepare himself, already knowing what he would find inside.

Bluestar was curled up in her nest, which had been entirely replaced in the aftermath of the camp invasion. The stone floor had been wiped down with snow, leaving no trace of what had happened except for the leader herself. “Bluestar?” He mewed as he approached. Her still, glassy eyes didn’t move to look at him; the only indication that she was alive was her slow, shallow breathing as her side rose and fell.

Gone was the regal leader that had terrified him when he first dared to venture into the forest; all that remained now was a frail body, as spectral and transient as the husk of a cicada. He hesitated as he stared down at her, struggling to find the words to speak. He wanted so badly to hold her accountable for not listening to him, for choosing him over any other cat in camp to be deputy. He wanted answers and an explanation, but he worried that even that pressure would be enough for her heart to stop entirely.

“Well, uh, Thornpaw’s mentor is - gone. He needs a new one.” Once again he was tempted to bring up how that was her fault - he was certain, now, that Tigerclaw hadn’t been Frostfur or Goldenflower’s pick. But he restrained himself, taking a seat by the leader’s nest. “And they’ll need a ceremony, which only you can do. So, uh-”

Her head suddenly shot up from where it had been resting on her paws as she turned to glare at him. “The Clan doesn’t really need me.” She spat, her voice laced with burning vitriol as her blue eyes glittered with hatred. “Oh, sure, they want to want to use me. They want someone they can boss around without question, that does every little thing that they ask, but they don’t care the slightest about me. If I don’t do what they want, then they’ll just kill me and replace me with someone that will.”

Horror seized Fireheart as he stared down at the leader in shock. How could she say such things about the Clan - whom she had always loved before, like a mother would her kits? He hadn’t realized how badly Tigerclaw’s attack had gotten to her. “That’s not true, Bluestar.” He mewed, taking a deep breath and trying his best not to seem as shaken as he was by the venom in her words. “The Clan is worried about you right now because they care for you. Tigerclaw was- he was delusional to think he could replace you. You’re the best leader Thunderclan could possibly have.”

She turned away from him with a huff of disbelief to stare at the wall. Fireheart didn’t know what to say - did she truly believe that no cat in the Clan cared about her now? “What about Whitestorm? Or Tinyfrost? Or- Or even me? Do you really think I fought Tigerclaw just for the fun of it?” She sat in silence, and panic suddenly overwhelmed him. What was he supposed to say? How could he convince her? “Bluestar, I-”

“So what?” He paused as the leader spoke, tossing the question at him without turning to look. “After everything I’ve done and given to Thunderclan, a total of three cats out of how many care about me? Am I supposed to feel honored by that?” She growled the question bitterly at him, tail lashing. “I’m not going to lift a whisker for these cowardly rats and their petty problems. They can figure things out on their own for a change.”

“They have been! For the past quarter-moon, no less!” Fireheart snapped, her words running over a sore spot in his patience. “I’ve never had an apprentice before, Bluestar, and I’ve only been a warrior for a season. I have no idea what I’m doing, but I’ve still been doing everything I can to keep the Clan from breaking apart over Tigerclaw because you named me deputy! I’m asking you to do this one thing, Bluestar, to help me out, and then you can go back to moping in your den for a moon if you want. All you have to do is say a few sentences about Lionheart being Thornpaw’s new mentor. Is that really so much for me to ask, after everything I’ve done?”

Painful silence stretched between them as the moments passed, and Fireheart wondered if perhaps she wasn’t going to move at all. His heartbeat quickened as he imagined getting up in front of the Clan himself - would they accept it? He gently sighed in relief as she rose out of her nest. “Fine. Quickly, then.” She growled, stumbling across the den towards the entrance. He followed her, part of him wanting to assist her, but he knew from experience that no cat took kindly to being helped along without asking.

Tinyfrost turned to greet him as they exited, ears perking in surprise as he saw both the leader and deputy. He looked quizzically to Fireheart, standing as though prepared to stop her, but relaxed as Fireheart dipped his head in acknowledgement. Instead, they both watched as she began to clamber up the side of the Highrock. 

What had once been a single, graceful bound for the leader was now a struggle to the top; as they watched, one of her paws slipped, and both instinctually moved to catch her, but she managed to recover before she fell off. At last, she found her way to the top, clambering to the peak with the same slow, shambling demeanor that she had had since Tigerclaw’s betrayal.

“Let all cats old enough to catch their own prey gather beneath the Highrock for a Clan meeting.” There was none of the usual vigor as she spoke the words; indeed, instead of echoing around camp, it seemed as though her voice barely reached the edges. Still, cats all around began to pad over to sit beneath their leader, and with a dip of his head Tinyfrost moved to join them. Only Fireheart was left beside the rock, where the deputy was supposed to sit. Where Tigerclaw had once sat, he thought with a shiver, even as he took his customary place.

Bluestar watched her Clan gather in silence, her face stripped of all emotion. It didn’t take long for them all to assemble, but still as the moments stretched by without their leader speaking the Clan began to grow restless. He could feel his heart drop as he watched her stand there; had she forgotten why she was up there in the first place?

Just as he was bunching up his muscles to leap onto the rock beside her, she flicked her tail decisively. “Thornpaw, step forward.” He relaxed as he watched the light golden tabby step forward, eyes questioning as he gazed up at his leader. “You need a new mentor. I have chosen Lionheart to teach you.”

The Clan was still uneasy as she spoke stiltedly, rushing the normal words of the ceremony; but this was an unusual ceremony, not one that would normally take place. “Lionheart. You were Redtail’s apprentice, and he… he taught you well. You did a good job teaching Graystripe, and I expect you to do the same for Thornpaw.” She turned and began to slip down the Highrock. “Meeting dismissed.”

The Clan grumbled uncomfortably as Lionheart stepped forward to touch noses with Thornpaw. He knew they had been expecting more from her - an explanation, or perhaps an apology, maybe even a new deputy. He flinched as she fell off the rock and into his side. For a moment, he expected her to lash out at him, but instead she turned away and padded back into her den. Into her nest, he imagined, to rest more.

“What’s going on, Fireheart?” He blinked back as he heard a voice call his name, and he turned to see Patchpelt standing there, tail bristling angrily. “The first time we see Bluestar in a quarter–moon, and it’s for some apprentice ceremony? Bring her back out here! The Clan needs answers!”

“Hush! Didn’t you see the state she was in?” Rosetail growled beside him, locking eyes with the irritable elder. “She needs rest right now, not badgering from the Clan!”

“What she needs is to do is lead us! I’m sure lots of cats would like to sulk in their den instead of having to do their responsibilities, but she’s our leader! She needs to take charge, not leave this scrawny half-grown kittypet in charge!” Patchpelt yowled with a furious lash of his tail, stepping away from Rosetail to glare at Fireheart bitterly. 

“That’s enough!” Fireheart blinked gratefully as he heard Yellowfang’s voice, turning to see the old healer limp up to stand in front of the crowd. “If you must know, Bluestar is ill. Between losing her lives and the leafbare cold, an infection has set in. She’s been ordered to rest for her health and yours. I don’t know if it’s contagious or not - which is why I had Fireheart set up a guard outside her den, to make sure no one went in and accidentally spread it.”

Though the crowd murmured worriedly at her announcement, he could see some of them begin to lighten up. Of course it made sense now why Bluestar was avoiding them - she was trying to keep them safe, just as she always had before. Fireheart wished he could believe that as easily as they did. 

“And who’s to say this infection wasn’t sent by Starclan?” He lowered his ears and grit his teeth as Patchpelt yowled again. “Perhaps it is punishment for breaking the code!”

“Starclan’s going to send you an infection next if you don’t stop questioning your leader and healer.” Yellowfang snapped, thrusting her flat muzzle in his direction. “Give her time to heal and I’m sure she’ll have plenty of answers for your nonsense then.”

The black and white elder stepped back as though her words had smacked him across the nose, but she didn’t seem to pay him any mind as she turned and padded back into her den. The crowd nodded and some cats began to disperse, but he realized with a jolt most cats were still looking at him. “Uh… that’s it. The meeting’s over.” He told them, flicking his tail to send them away.

They glanced at each other in confusion. “What about patrols for the day? It’s sunhigh, after all.” Mistspring mewed from near the front of the crowd.

Patrols! He dipped his head in embarrassment, even as he padded forward. “Of course. My bad.” Even as he said it, he felt his fur prickle uncomfortably. He wasn’t sure he’d ever get used to this - doling out patrols, ordering the other warriors around, doing what a normal deputy was supposed to do.