Chapter Text
Leaving the healer’s den, Fireheart spotted Sandstorm sitting by the warrior’s den with Dustpelt. He wanted to go to her, to finish their conversation from earlier, but embarrassment made him hesitate. What if he was wrong, and she was only asking out of curiosity, not because she felt the same way?
Besides, I don’t really want to talk about it in front of Dustpelt. Fireheart ducked his head and started towards the nursery instead.
When he poked his head in, he was mildly surprised to find the kits napping peacefully. Brindleface was snoring quietly as well, and Fireheart fought back a purr at how cozy they all looked. Goldenflower was awake, though, and Fireheart nodded a greeting before stepping back to leave.
Movement caught his attention, and he paused, curious to see that Goldenflower was following him out of the nursery. He turned and sat near the entrance, waiting to see if she joined him or continued past. She came to sit next to him, blinking over at him calmly.
“Hello Fireheart. How is the deputy life treating you?” Goldenflower asked.
“It’s alright so far. I think most of the clan is going easy on me though.” Fireheart admitted.
“I wouldn’t be surprised. Having so much responsibility at such a young age is hard.” Goldenflower commented, then sighed. “Listen. I think we should talk.”
Oh no. Fireheart hid a grimace, certain that he knew where this was going.
“I’m sorry I didn’t warn you. I’m sure springing the accusations like that…it couldn’t have been easy to hear.” Fireheart said, rushing to get the words out. “And then I was made deputy, and that has to be hard, since I’m the one who got Tigerclaw exiled, and-
“Fireheart.” Goldenflower interrupted, suddenly stern. “Stop. Breathe.”
Fireheart’s jaws snapped shut, embarrassment flooding him again. He glanced up at Goldenflower, then away again. She stayed silent, just watching him, and Fireheart realized he was holding his breath. He forced himself to breathe normally, and saw Goldenflower nod approvingly out of the corner of his eye.
“Good. Now, you’re young, so I won’t lecture you too much, but you can’t go around making assumptions about the way people feel.” Goldenflower frowned. “I’m not mad at you.”
“Oh. Good. Sorry, and thanks.” Fireheart mumbled.
“Now then, what I actually wanted to tell you,” Goldenflower continued, the annoyance fading from her voice. “Is thank you.”
Fireheart blinked in surprise. That hadn’t been what he expected at all. He ducked his head with embarrassment, unsure of what to say. When he didn’t say anything after a few moments, Goldenflower kept on.
“If not for you, he would still be here. He might have hurt more cats, and our kits would have been here to watch it all unfold. Having Swiftpaw see it is bad enough, but at least he’s old enough to understand.” Goldenflower sighed, shutting her eyes for a long moment. “It hurts, yes. But it hurts because he did it, not because you told everyone.”
Fireheart turned to look at her, relief and disbelief in his eyes. Goldenflower purred, wrapping a paw around his shoulder and pulling him close. Fireheart thought once again of his own mother, wondering what Nutmeg would say, and what she was doing.
Maybe I should pay her a visit. Fireheart thought.
That’s what was on Fireheart’s mind as he left camp the next day. He wasn’t the only one leaving camp; it was the first really sunny day they’d had in over a moon, and while it wasn’t exactly warm, everyone wanted to take advantage of the sun while it was out. Yellowfang had taken Cinderpaw out of camp by an easier path than the ravine, and even the elders were out of their dens and soaking in the sunshine.
He paused at the top of the ravine, standing in a break in the trees and letting the sun warm his pelt. It pulled a soft purr from his throat. He felt almost like he was melting, shedding the ice of leafbare off his fur.
It won’t last long, I know. There’s another moon of leafbare, and the elders say the last is often the worst. But it’s nice to have a little break! Fireheart thought.
“Fireheart!” Graystripe’s voice broke through his quiet moment. “There you are, I’m glad I caught up with you!”
“What’s going on?” Fireheart frowned, taking in his friend’s nervous energy.
“I got word from Silverstream this morning, on the dawn patrol. We worked out a way to leave messages for each other with rocks and things.” Graystripe explained quickly, kneading the ground. “She’s coming to Thunderclan now! I’m on my way to meet her. Will you…will you come with me? It’d mean a lot, both as my friend and my deputy.”
“Of course! I’ll be happy to escort you both.” Fireheart purred. “Let’s go.”
Sunningrocks was still cool under their paws, but it warmed quickly as Fireheart and Graystripe sat waiting. It wasn’t long before the shrubs on the far side of the bank rustled and parted, revealing Silverstream. Graystripe broke into a noisy purr, but Fireheart couldn’t help wincing. She was too thin, even with her belly rounded by the kits. Her eyes were just a little too dull, too, even though they lit up with joy at the sight of Graystripe.
She started across the stepping stones, jumping slowly between them. Graystripe ran to meet her while Fireheart kept watch from above. He didn’t know if Graystripe saw it, but Fireheart did - the moment Silverstream slipped, landing wrong on the final stepping stone. Her front paws and belly were on the stone, her back paws on the slick ice of the river. She hissed, face twisting in pain for a moment, but clambered up and continued to the bank.
When she and Graystripe reached the top of sunningrocks, Fireheart thought she already seemed exhausted. He motioned them over, blinking a greeting to Silverstream.
“Why don’t you rest a moment before we head on?” Fireheart suggested. “Tell me, have you thought about names for the kits yet?”
Silverstream purred, sitting gratefully. “We have a few options. Graystripe likes Feather and Spruce, I like Puddle and Willow. The only name we have to use is Storm.”
“Those are good names.” Fireheart said. “Why Stormkit, if you don’t mind me asking?”
“It was my father’s name, before his mother renamed him after his accident.” Silverstream frowned, ears flattening. “He told me once that he first kept the name Crooked because he wanted to earn his mother’s love, and then later the name changed meaning for him. I don’t really get it. But his old name - I’m using it as a promise. I’ll never be like her.”
“We’ll be great parents.” Graystripe agreed, licking her ear. “We already love them so much, how hard can it be to just…keep loving them?”
Fireheart purred quietly at the happy couple. The rest seemed to help Silverstream some, although she still winced every so often and shifted uncomfortably. He couldn’t fully shake his worry, even as his mind wandered again to his mother. He’d have to put off his visit for another day, but that would be alright.
“Silverstream?” Graystripe’s voice was laced with panic, and it cut through Fireheart’s thoughts like a swift claw stroke. “What’s wrong?”
Silverstream’s face had contorted with pain again, and she slumped to one side, unable to keep upright. Fireheart could smell blood, and while it wasn’t heavy on the air it was still enough to send him scrambling to his paws.
“Yellowfang is somewhere nearby.” Fireheart said quickly, ears flat with distress. “I’ll find her.”
Without waiting for an answer, he took off, slowing only to check the air for scents. The forest had never seemed so large and empty as it did when he was searching, every sense straining for anything that could lead him to the healer.
After what felt like days but was really only several long moments, he caught the sound of voices murmuring and hared towards them. Fireheart burst into a clearing, startling Yellowfang and Cinderpaw, who had been enjoying a nice day out in the sun up until then.
“Yellowfang, quick, there’s a queen at sunningrocks, and-”
He didn’t get even a word further before Yellowfang was off, bolting through the trees at a speed he didn’t know the old cat had in her. Cinderpaw watched with wide eyes, mouth open slightly. Fireheart hesitated, feeling torn. He wanted to race after Yellowfang and stand by Graystripe, but he had a duty to his apprentice. He couldn’t leave a young cat alone in the forest.
“I’ll take you back to camp.” Fireheart said, his voice hoarse as he panted from running.
“No. I want to help!” Cinderpaw declared, looking determined. “Let’s go.”
“Cinderpaw-” Fireheart called out, wanting to warn her, but the young cat didn’t even glance back.
Now Fireheart had to make his way back at a slower pace, keeping step with Cinderpaw. She was still recovering, and still finding a good rhythm for her steps, which slowed her down. Still, she was determined, and Fireheart was equally determined not to rush her. It was hard not to, though, especially when she deviated from the path to grab a plant here and there. They smelled like herbs, but he didn’t know if they’d be useful or not.
When they reached sunningrocks, Fireheart paused before stepping out of the trees. He could smell blood, and hear Silverstream’s pained cries. He steeled himself, reminding himself sternly that Graystripe needed him, before padding over to join them.
Yellowfang barely glanced up when they arrived, her eyes flicking over them quickly. She nodded once as Cinderpaw set the pile of leaves down beside her, but didn’t reach for any of them. Fireheart didn’t know anything about healing, but he could see that Yellowfang’s expression was grim. He turned to Graystripe instead.
His friend was crouched by Silverstream’s head, his eyes wild with desperate hope. Silverstream’s looked more resigned, even through the pain. Fireheart had to look away. Her head was tilted back to look at Graystripe, and the raw affection and grief on her face was too much.
She thinks she’s dying, and wants to remember his face. Fireheart guessed, feeling queasy.
He took up a position between Graystripe and Yellowfang, sitting out of the way but close enough to help if needed. One kit already lay at Silverstream’s belly, a tiny dark gray kit, that was soon joined by an equally tiny silver tabby. Yellowfang placed the second kit at her belly, then leaned back, meeting Silverstream’s eyes steadily, but not without sorrow.
“Two kits, small but healthy. Strong hearts, stronger lungs.” Yellowfang said. “You’ll want to name them now.”
Because you won’t have time later hung unsaid in between them. Graystripe made a wounded noise, looking as bewildered and stung as he would have if Yellowfang had reached out and swiped him across the nose. He shook his head, raising himself shakily to stand.
“No, no, you have to try harder.” Graystripe pleaded. “She’ll be ok, just…just do something! You can’t just stop trying!”
Silverstream reached one paw up to pat his shoulder, purring shakily. Her eyes drooped tiredly, and lifting her head seemed to take a lot of effort.
“It’s alright, Graystripe. She can’t do anything, I know that.” Silverstream said, voice raspy and weak. “I want to see them.”
Yellowfang nodded, slipping a paw behind her to help her sit up. Silverstream blinked gratefully, whispering a quiet thanks to the older cat, then purred as she peered down at her kits. Graystripe whimpered, licking her ears.
“They’re perfect. They’re beautiful.” Silverstream whispered. “Look at them, Graystripe. Stormkit and…Featherkit. Oh, this was worth it. It was all worth it.”
Her eyes were bright one moment, looking at her kits with so much love it pained Fireheart to see. The next, they were dull, and she slumped back against Yellowfang’s paw with a single raspy sigh. Gently, Yellowfang pulled her paw away, letting Silverstream lay flat against the stone. For a long moment there was only the sound of the wind and the squeaking of the newborn kits.
Fireheart broke it first, padding the few steps to Graystripe’s side and wrapping his tail around his friend. Leaning close to comfort him, he murmured a quiet apology while they watched Yellowfang gently clean the kits. When she finished, her face was shaped into perfect neutrality, and her voice was calm and direct.
“Graystripe. You need to carry one of these kits.” Yellowfang said, speaking slowly as if she didn’t think he’d be able to understand her. “We need to take them to our camp - it isn’t safe for them out here.”
Graystripe didn’t speak, still staring at Silverstream with a look of utter despair. When Fireheart gave him a gentle nudge, he moved stiffly, as if he still wasn’t able to think. A shadow passed overhead, and it seemed to snap him out of his stupor and back into frantic panic.
“No, wait, I can’t leave her! There’s birds, foxes, I can’t…” Graystripe gasped, whipping his head around to look for possible dangers.
“I could…” Cinderpaw offered quietly, but Yellowfang shook her head.
“Newborns are delicate, and getting down the ravine will be hard enough for you until your leg has fully healed.” Yellowfang said. “We can’t risk you slipping. You and the kit could both be gravely hurt. Focus on yourself.”
“I’ll stay with her.” Fireheart promised quickly. “Someone…someone has to tell Riverclan. I’ll wait here for a patrol and keep the predators away from her. I promise.”
Graystripe hesitated, still looking unsure. Fireheart leaned forwards to lick his ear comfortingly.
“Go. There’s nothing else you can do for her, but your kits need you.” Fireheart said quietly.
Graystripe nodded, still shaking as he gently grasped the older kit. Fireheart watched them go. Alone with Silverstream’s cooling body, he was hit suddenly with the tragedy he’d witnessed. Fireheart bowed his head, touching Silverstream’s ear gently with his nose.
“I’m sorry, Silverstream. You were a good cat, a good warrior. I’m sure you would have been a great mother.” Fireheart murmured. “I promise I’ll help look after your kits, and make sure they’re safe.”
Having said his goodbyes, Fireheart sat down next to her to keep vigil, his gaze firmly fixed on the far bank of the river.