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tinyfandomflash2024-02-28 09:22 pm
apachefirecat) wrote in tinyfandomflash2024-02-28 09:22 pm
(Challenge #16: Victory Sign) Into the Light
Title: Into the Light
Author: Apache Firecat
Fandom: Warriors (Book)
Rating: PG/K+
Category: Light M/F, Mainly Gen
Relationship(s): Fireheart/Sandstorm, Graystripe/Silverstream
Character(s): Fireheart, Ensemble
Word Count: 2,253
Spoiler: Spoilers for the first three books
Summary: It was the morning after Fireheart was called as Deputy.
Notes/Warnings: Spoilers for the first three books
He awoke the next morning with an immediate feeling of warmth surrounding him, despite the last two days with events unfolding faster than a hummingbirds' wings. It had all been so much far more than he could have ever foreseen, except for Tigerclaw's betrayal. It seemed like his heart and emotions had barely been able to keep up, yet somehow, this morning, he felt a strange peace. He could still see Spottedleaf's vision in his mind, still hear her encouraging purr. At first, he thought it was her presence in his dreams that had brought him such reassurance, but then he heard Sandstorm's purr and realized it was her sweet scent enveloping him like a warm rush of air after a long, deep leaf-bare.
Reaching out to him in her sleep, Sandstorm started to gently knead his side. Fireheart hated to move, and his lashing tail struck out with accordance to that strong desire. He yearned to be able to stay right here in their nice, soft bed of moss. His eyes opened. He blinked rapidly in the early morning sunshine as he peered down at Sandstorm's peacefully sleeping face. Since when had he come to think of his nest as theirs?
But it was, he thought with his next breath. Sandstorm had scarcely left his side over the last two nights, after the duties of the day had been completed and other than his accompanying Graystripe to his new home. Sandstorm had known he was hurting in Graystripe's absence, though he'd not told her. It was looked down upon for warriors to make such admissions, and he was rather certain that, as Deputy, he especially should not admit to any such feelings. But, in truth, Sandstorm had clung to him rather often long before Graystripe had left the Clan yesterday or the battle the day before. Indeed, almost since Graystripe had lost Silverstream, Sandstorm had rarely strayed far from Fireheart's side unless on a hunting expedition. He wondered if the young queen feared losing him as Graystripe had lost Silverstream.
She'd been furious with Graystripe as, he could admit now, she had every right to be. They'd all right to be angry with Graystripe. He had lied to them all, and he had put his own passions and desires above his Clan duties and loyalty. But in the end, Fireheart simply could not stay mad at his friend, especially not when he'd seen how pitiful the big, gray tom, who had been the first to truly welcome him into the Clan, had been in grieving Silverstream. If not for those kittens -- Fireheart pushed away a shudder, choosing to rise and stretch instead.
If not for those kittens, Graystripe would have likely followed Silverstream in death. He could admit that as well now, long hours after he had lost his friend, just as he could admit that he did have right to be angry with him. He would see Graystripe again, at the next Gathering, if not before. It was equally true that things between them would never again be the same. He feared ever having to side against RiverClan again for he'd not be able to fight Graystripe, or his kits. How had Bluestar ever battled against hers? he wondered, and then his amber eyes popped wide open.
Bluestar! So much had happened yesterday, and he wasn't the only one hurting. He remembered well how devastated his leader had been in the wake of her Deputy's betrayal. He'd never expected to be deputized, even after beating Tigerclaw, and he feared disappointing his Clan, his family. His eyes narrowing, Fireheart realized that he feared letting down Bluestar most of all. But she also needed him more now than ever before. She was hurting, and the levels of her grief went far beyond anything almost anyone else in the Clan knew.
Fireheart wondered just how much even the Clan's medicine cat, Yellowfang, knew, and then his heart hurt with another renewed, sharp pain. If anyone could understand what Bluestar was going through, it was surely Yellowfang. Yellowfang knew as well as he did that Bluestar was on her last life, and how close they had all come to losing their leader just two suns ago. But Yellowfang... Poor, poor Yellowfang... What the ancient medicine cat had endured after their last battle to protect her Clan, the Clan who had taken her in when everycat else had shunned her, was another secret, much like that of Bluestar's own kits, which only he, Fireheart, knew. His tail lashed again, striking out at empty air. He'd better never hear anycat ever again question Yellowfang's loyalty to the Clan after what she had done to her own kit, Brokenstar!
"Fireheart?"
The quiet mew behind him had Fireheart's orange ears instantly unfolding from his angrily furrowed head. He looked behind him at Sandstorm, who was looking up at him through barely open eyes but eyes that were also full of deep concern. Had he ever realized before just how beautiful they were, how full of adoration and perhaps other emotions as well? Fireheart padded back over to her and gently licked her furry head. "I'll be back shortly, Sandstorm, and I'll bring you some fresh kill. Sleep, rest for now." They had had a long night last night, and she had been so loyal to him. "I just want to check on Bluestar really quickly." And Yellowfang, he thought to himself.
"You have duties now," she said, beginning to purr again. There was a definite note of pride in her purr this time. "Even more so than before." She touched her nose to his cheek. "Go ahead. I'll be out there beside you shortly."
He had no doubt she would, he thought, also beginning to purr and returning her tender lick to her face, and that she'd do anything he asked her. "Sleep well," he said and then darted from their nest. He had to blink rapidly again as he stepped out from their den into the early morning sunlight. The great big ball of life-giving light and warmth seemed hotter than it had been in weeks as its gold rays pooled over his body. He had to walk out a few pawsteps from the warriors' den before he was able to really look around him.
He was instantly thrilled to see Bluestar having already emerged from her den. Yellowfang was with her, and they were mewing together in soft, gentle tones. He smiled, his tail whisking, as he considered again how much those two had in common. They could surely understand each other and one another's pain on levels that no other cat in the Clan could, if indeed any cat at all. "Cinderpaw, fetch me -- "
Fireheart missed Yellowfang's next words but watched as his former apprentice, the young she-cat he'd blamed himself for allowing to be hurt for so long, quickly raced away to fulfill her mentor's orders. She seemed to have as much energy as she'd had before the "accident" that had stolen the use of her leg and her chances at being a warrior. The life of a medicine cat was going to agree with her, after all. Whatever she had been asked to fetch was clearly intended for Bluestar, but Fireheart couldn't hear what the herb was or Yellowfang's other words that followed for the young, enthusiastic voice calling out to him. "Fireheart! Fireheart!"
Cloudpaw had always been so happy to see him. This morning, he was rushing toward him so quickly that the young apprentice fell over his own front paws, but for a change, no one laughed as his little face hit the ground. Brackenfur even moved to assist him. As Fireheart watched the newest warrior assist his apprentice, he was reminded of how much move had grown, and all he had been able to teach him. Being able to pass to the younger toms everything he had learned so far in his life journey with his Clan was nearly as rewarding for him as the journey to their own warrior lives was for the apprentices. They had both grown so far. He doubted he could have been prouder of them than if they had been his own kits.
That thought reminded Fireheart again of Graystripe. He would get to see his kits grow up, and he had been welcomed whole-heartedly into their mother's Clan. The cats in their own Clan had still been angry with him, and Fireheart knew they never would have been able to completely trust him again. Even Fireheart had known for a long time, since he had first started slipping away to see Silverstream, that Graystripe would never be able to be trusted to put his own desires after their Clan's needs. It had to happen. He'd had to go, as much as Fireheart hadn't wanted to admit it, and surely his life would be better with Silverstream's clan, surrounded by cats who dearly missed the mother of his kits and getting to raise and likely mentor those young kits.
As Cloudpaw and Brackenfur started toward him again, Fireheart once more realized how much they had grown. He was reminded of how proud Princess had been of her son, rightfully so of course. Only then did he realize that the next time he saw his sister, he'd be able to tell her that he was now Deputy. It was such big paws to fill! he thought, a shiver whispering through his ginger fur. But he remembered the cat whose position he was taking over, and remembered, too, the cat Bluestar had told him of, the one who had been even worse than Tigerclaw and who she had given up her own kits to make certain did not gain Clan leadership. There were worse Deputies already, he realized, and he would always do everything he could for his Clan.
Bluestar's leadership decisions had been questioned quite frequently in the last several months, but she had always led with her heart and mind both, aiming for peace rather than violence. It had been her willingness to help others that, in the end, had ultimately saved their Clan. Fireheart did not even want to consider what may have become of them all if not for Riverclan's timely arrival two days prior. The other Clan had saved them. Graystripe's new Clan had saved them. Perhaps he would never have to fight Graystripe after all. Perhaps they could pave a new future together where Clans helped one another, or at least ThunderClan and RiverClan helped each other.
Regardless, Fireheart knew, purring quietly, that he would always do his best to make the right decision for all involved in the Clan. He would place his own happiness and safety to the side to do whatever was best for the Clan. Surely he would not be all that terrible a Deputy, then, as long as he always chose what was best for the Clan.
"Fireheart! Fireheart! Good morning! The sun's really bright today, inn't it?"
Blinking again, Fireheart realized that his sister's son was bouncing up and down before him. Some of the warriors, and the elders especially, were beginning to quietly mew about Cloudpaw's over enthusiasm this morning, but Fireheart was very pleased to realize that all the voices he heard were filled with mirth. There was no one calling Cloudpaw, or himself, out for being a kittypet or trying to say they did not belong here. They did belong here, Fireheart thought, his tail swishing merrily.
He felt another presence approach and turned his head to see Whitestorm looking solemnly at him. The big, white cat sat not too far from the den's entrance. Fireheart distinctly felt that he had been watching for some time, but was remaining patient. "How would you like us to begin today, Fireheart?" he asked, his deep voice travelling across the Clan.
"It is a bright day," Fireheart agreed with Cloudpaw, nodding his head. "A beautiful day. It should be a fine day for hunting." And a fine day, he thought joyously, for the Clan! Surely such a beautiful day was a sign not just of victory but of victories to come. The darkness was over. Tigerclaw had been defeated, and they were all safe and sound. Again, he thought back on how they would never have survived that last battle if not for RiverClan; it was a StarClan-blessed miracle that they had come out of that scrap as well and healthy as they had.
He sat tall as he began to give orders, his tail curling comfortably around his haunches. He saw the approving glances of Bluestar, Yellowfang, and Cinderpaw. He witnessed the quiet solemn approval and immediate obedience in Whitestorm's serious gaze. And he felt Sandstorm emerge from the den behind him to sit right by his side and wait patiently for him to give her orders as well. Yes, their Clan had come out victorious, and deep within, Fireheart knew they would stay victorious and healthy for a long time to come. Bluestar had chosen well, as she always did. It was not his place to argue with her, and as long as he listened to her, Yellowfang, Whitestorm, Cinderpaw, Spottedleaf, and StarClan, he would do just fine as the Clan's new deputy.
Sandstorm swiftly licked his cheek as she set out to lead her hunting expedition. Behind the departing parties, Fireheart purred. It was going to be a fine day, and a fine future for his Clan!
The End
Author: Apache Firecat
Fandom: Warriors (Book)
Rating: PG/K+
Category: Light M/F, Mainly Gen
Relationship(s): Fireheart/Sandstorm, Graystripe/Silverstream
Character(s): Fireheart, Ensemble
Word Count: 2,253
Spoiler: Spoilers for the first three books
Summary: It was the morning after Fireheart was called as Deputy.
Notes/Warnings: Spoilers for the first three books
He awoke the next morning with an immediate feeling of warmth surrounding him, despite the last two days with events unfolding faster than a hummingbirds' wings. It had all been so much far more than he could have ever foreseen, except for Tigerclaw's betrayal. It seemed like his heart and emotions had barely been able to keep up, yet somehow, this morning, he felt a strange peace. He could still see Spottedleaf's vision in his mind, still hear her encouraging purr. At first, he thought it was her presence in his dreams that had brought him such reassurance, but then he heard Sandstorm's purr and realized it was her sweet scent enveloping him like a warm rush of air after a long, deep leaf-bare.
Reaching out to him in her sleep, Sandstorm started to gently knead his side. Fireheart hated to move, and his lashing tail struck out with accordance to that strong desire. He yearned to be able to stay right here in their nice, soft bed of moss. His eyes opened. He blinked rapidly in the early morning sunshine as he peered down at Sandstorm's peacefully sleeping face. Since when had he come to think of his nest as theirs?
But it was, he thought with his next breath. Sandstorm had scarcely left his side over the last two nights, after the duties of the day had been completed and other than his accompanying Graystripe to his new home. Sandstorm had known he was hurting in Graystripe's absence, though he'd not told her. It was looked down upon for warriors to make such admissions, and he was rather certain that, as Deputy, he especially should not admit to any such feelings. But, in truth, Sandstorm had clung to him rather often long before Graystripe had left the Clan yesterday or the battle the day before. Indeed, almost since Graystripe had lost Silverstream, Sandstorm had rarely strayed far from Fireheart's side unless on a hunting expedition. He wondered if the young queen feared losing him as Graystripe had lost Silverstream.
She'd been furious with Graystripe as, he could admit now, she had every right to be. They'd all right to be angry with Graystripe. He had lied to them all, and he had put his own passions and desires above his Clan duties and loyalty. But in the end, Fireheart simply could not stay mad at his friend, especially not when he'd seen how pitiful the big, gray tom, who had been the first to truly welcome him into the Clan, had been in grieving Silverstream. If not for those kittens -- Fireheart pushed away a shudder, choosing to rise and stretch instead.
If not for those kittens, Graystripe would have likely followed Silverstream in death. He could admit that as well now, long hours after he had lost his friend, just as he could admit that he did have right to be angry with him. He would see Graystripe again, at the next Gathering, if not before. It was equally true that things between them would never again be the same. He feared ever having to side against RiverClan again for he'd not be able to fight Graystripe, or his kits. How had Bluestar ever battled against hers? he wondered, and then his amber eyes popped wide open.
Bluestar! So much had happened yesterday, and he wasn't the only one hurting. He remembered well how devastated his leader had been in the wake of her Deputy's betrayal. He'd never expected to be deputized, even after beating Tigerclaw, and he feared disappointing his Clan, his family. His eyes narrowing, Fireheart realized that he feared letting down Bluestar most of all. But she also needed him more now than ever before. She was hurting, and the levels of her grief went far beyond anything almost anyone else in the Clan knew.
Fireheart wondered just how much even the Clan's medicine cat, Yellowfang, knew, and then his heart hurt with another renewed, sharp pain. If anyone could understand what Bluestar was going through, it was surely Yellowfang. Yellowfang knew as well as he did that Bluestar was on her last life, and how close they had all come to losing their leader just two suns ago. But Yellowfang... Poor, poor Yellowfang... What the ancient medicine cat had endured after their last battle to protect her Clan, the Clan who had taken her in when everycat else had shunned her, was another secret, much like that of Bluestar's own kits, which only he, Fireheart, knew. His tail lashed again, striking out at empty air. He'd better never hear anycat ever again question Yellowfang's loyalty to the Clan after what she had done to her own kit, Brokenstar!
"Fireheart?"
The quiet mew behind him had Fireheart's orange ears instantly unfolding from his angrily furrowed head. He looked behind him at Sandstorm, who was looking up at him through barely open eyes but eyes that were also full of deep concern. Had he ever realized before just how beautiful they were, how full of adoration and perhaps other emotions as well? Fireheart padded back over to her and gently licked her furry head. "I'll be back shortly, Sandstorm, and I'll bring you some fresh kill. Sleep, rest for now." They had had a long night last night, and she had been so loyal to him. "I just want to check on Bluestar really quickly." And Yellowfang, he thought to himself.
"You have duties now," she said, beginning to purr again. There was a definite note of pride in her purr this time. "Even more so than before." She touched her nose to his cheek. "Go ahead. I'll be out there beside you shortly."
He had no doubt she would, he thought, also beginning to purr and returning her tender lick to her face, and that she'd do anything he asked her. "Sleep well," he said and then darted from their nest. He had to blink rapidly again as he stepped out from their den into the early morning sunlight. The great big ball of life-giving light and warmth seemed hotter than it had been in weeks as its gold rays pooled over his body. He had to walk out a few pawsteps from the warriors' den before he was able to really look around him.
He was instantly thrilled to see Bluestar having already emerged from her den. Yellowfang was with her, and they were mewing together in soft, gentle tones. He smiled, his tail whisking, as he considered again how much those two had in common. They could surely understand each other and one another's pain on levels that no other cat in the Clan could, if indeed any cat at all. "Cinderpaw, fetch me -- "
Fireheart missed Yellowfang's next words but watched as his former apprentice, the young she-cat he'd blamed himself for allowing to be hurt for so long, quickly raced away to fulfill her mentor's orders. She seemed to have as much energy as she'd had before the "accident" that had stolen the use of her leg and her chances at being a warrior. The life of a medicine cat was going to agree with her, after all. Whatever she had been asked to fetch was clearly intended for Bluestar, but Fireheart couldn't hear what the herb was or Yellowfang's other words that followed for the young, enthusiastic voice calling out to him. "Fireheart! Fireheart!"
Cloudpaw had always been so happy to see him. This morning, he was rushing toward him so quickly that the young apprentice fell over his own front paws, but for a change, no one laughed as his little face hit the ground. Brackenfur even moved to assist him. As Fireheart watched the newest warrior assist his apprentice, he was reminded of how much move had grown, and all he had been able to teach him. Being able to pass to the younger toms everything he had learned so far in his life journey with his Clan was nearly as rewarding for him as the journey to their own warrior lives was for the apprentices. They had both grown so far. He doubted he could have been prouder of them than if they had been his own kits.
That thought reminded Fireheart again of Graystripe. He would get to see his kits grow up, and he had been welcomed whole-heartedly into their mother's Clan. The cats in their own Clan had still been angry with him, and Fireheart knew they never would have been able to completely trust him again. Even Fireheart had known for a long time, since he had first started slipping away to see Silverstream, that Graystripe would never be able to be trusted to put his own desires after their Clan's needs. It had to happen. He'd had to go, as much as Fireheart hadn't wanted to admit it, and surely his life would be better with Silverstream's clan, surrounded by cats who dearly missed the mother of his kits and getting to raise and likely mentor those young kits.
As Cloudpaw and Brackenfur started toward him again, Fireheart once more realized how much they had grown. He was reminded of how proud Princess had been of her son, rightfully so of course. Only then did he realize that the next time he saw his sister, he'd be able to tell her that he was now Deputy. It was such big paws to fill! he thought, a shiver whispering through his ginger fur. But he remembered the cat whose position he was taking over, and remembered, too, the cat Bluestar had told him of, the one who had been even worse than Tigerclaw and who she had given up her own kits to make certain did not gain Clan leadership. There were worse Deputies already, he realized, and he would always do everything he could for his Clan.
Bluestar's leadership decisions had been questioned quite frequently in the last several months, but she had always led with her heart and mind both, aiming for peace rather than violence. It had been her willingness to help others that, in the end, had ultimately saved their Clan. Fireheart did not even want to consider what may have become of them all if not for Riverclan's timely arrival two days prior. The other Clan had saved them. Graystripe's new Clan had saved them. Perhaps he would never have to fight Graystripe after all. Perhaps they could pave a new future together where Clans helped one another, or at least ThunderClan and RiverClan helped each other.
Regardless, Fireheart knew, purring quietly, that he would always do his best to make the right decision for all involved in the Clan. He would place his own happiness and safety to the side to do whatever was best for the Clan. Surely he would not be all that terrible a Deputy, then, as long as he always chose what was best for the Clan.
"Fireheart! Fireheart! Good morning! The sun's really bright today, inn't it?"
Blinking again, Fireheart realized that his sister's son was bouncing up and down before him. Some of the warriors, and the elders especially, were beginning to quietly mew about Cloudpaw's over enthusiasm this morning, but Fireheart was very pleased to realize that all the voices he heard were filled with mirth. There was no one calling Cloudpaw, or himself, out for being a kittypet or trying to say they did not belong here. They did belong here, Fireheart thought, his tail swishing merrily.
He felt another presence approach and turned his head to see Whitestorm looking solemnly at him. The big, white cat sat not too far from the den's entrance. Fireheart distinctly felt that he had been watching for some time, but was remaining patient. "How would you like us to begin today, Fireheart?" he asked, his deep voice travelling across the Clan.
"It is a bright day," Fireheart agreed with Cloudpaw, nodding his head. "A beautiful day. It should be a fine day for hunting." And a fine day, he thought joyously, for the Clan! Surely such a beautiful day was a sign not just of victory but of victories to come. The darkness was over. Tigerclaw had been defeated, and they were all safe and sound. Again, he thought back on how they would never have survived that last battle if not for RiverClan; it was a StarClan-blessed miracle that they had come out of that scrap as well and healthy as they had.
He sat tall as he began to give orders, his tail curling comfortably around his haunches. He saw the approving glances of Bluestar, Yellowfang, and Cinderpaw. He witnessed the quiet solemn approval and immediate obedience in Whitestorm's serious gaze. And he felt Sandstorm emerge from the den behind him to sit right by his side and wait patiently for him to give her orders as well. Yes, their Clan had come out victorious, and deep within, Fireheart knew they would stay victorious and healthy for a long time to come. Bluestar had chosen well, as she always did. It was not his place to argue with her, and as long as he listened to her, Yellowfang, Whitestorm, Cinderpaw, Spottedleaf, and StarClan, he would do just fine as the Clan's new deputy.
Sandstorm swiftly licked his cheek as she set out to lead her hunting expedition. Behind the departing parties, Fireheart purred. It was going to be a fine day, and a fine future for his Clan!
The End