Post by Dance on Jul 3, 2007 17:45:26 GMT -5
Title: Reflections
Chapters: One-shot
Author: Dance
Pairing: Onestar x Firestar
Rating: PG[slash]
Summary: There is nothing quite so painful as loving someone and getting nothing in return. Is it better to keep silent, to watch from a distance, and pretend you feel only friendship for them? Would you regret if it you did?
Warning: Slash
Disclaimer: Warriors belongs to Erin Hunter and Harpercollins.
Author's Notes: A slash pairing of my own creation. This takes place sometime after Twilight. I haven't read TNP in a while, so sorry about any inaccuracies. ^^'
The forest was silent, held in the grip of a leaf-fall dusk; the hills of WindClan were etched in gold against a sky splashed carelessly with shades of deep auburn, bruised purple, and warm ocher.
Onestar jogged across the crest of the hill, letting out a breath as his territory unfolded beneath him. Though WindClan had settled into their new land long before, Onestar still felt jarred whenever he opened his eyes each morning. Somehow, he always expected to wake up in the old forest.
The lake was a polished track of dying sunlight, reddish gold. The faint buzz of monsters on the Thunderpath far away was almost comforting to the brown tom; it was a sound he had come to associate with the old forest. There, when the wind fell still the way it was just then, he could always hear it.
It was like being home. Onestar's heart thudded almost painfully, just once; a beat of deepest sorrow for the lands he had lost.
"Fox,"? growled a voice from behind him. Onestar started, and turned back to face his patrol.
"Yes're right, Webfoot,"? Onestar replied, scenting the air. He waved his tail with slight unease.
"Whitetail and I can go check it out," Webfoot offered. "The trail seems faded, it's probably old."
Onestar nodded, and the two warriors raced away. Now only one member of the patrol remained; a lean gray-black tom called Crowfeather. Crowfeather was standing completely still, his eyes trained almost hungrily on the ThunderClan border.
Onestar knew what he was hoping for; he was watching for a glimpse of ThunderClan's medicine cat, Leafpool. When the story of their forbidden affair had reached WindClan, they had been outraged; many of them clamored for Onestar to exile him at once. Crowfeather's willingness to put a ThunderClanner before his own made him nothing more than a useless traitor in their eyes.
But Onestar had allowed the tom to stay. Because he knew perfectly well how painful it was to love someone you absolutely couldn't.
WindClan's leader followed Crowfeather's gaze, a weary sort of sadness touching his face. Unlike Crowfeather, he was not looking for a medicine cat but for a leader.
Onestar remembered well the day he had first met Firestar.
It was dawn, and the bitter chill of night had yet to lift from the damp stone walls of their shelter. Onestar had been merely a warrior then, young and so much more naive. The arrogance of thinking nothing would ever change, that the forest and the moors would be WindClan's forever.
When ShadowClan attacked, it was sudden and vicious. The pain and confusion of that desperate night had followed them as surely as Brokenstar's warriors, spurring them to travel faster and farther.
They lived like rats in twoleg tunnels. But when Fireheart and Graystripe had come at dawn, WindClan rose as one to defend the weak and the ill. Onestar's heart nearly burst with pride; even here, they held on to their honor as warriors.
But the ThunderClanners had come not to finish them, but to bring them home.
The ThunderClan cats were open and willing. They helped where they could, and respected Tallstar's words though he was not their leader. And when Fireheart kindly took Gorsekit from Morningflower the sight filled Onestar with hope. Brokenstar's cruelty and greed had thrown a shadow not just over WindClan, but over all the Clans. For the first time since the battle, Onestar did not feel like WindClan was alone.
He forged a lasting friendship with Fireheart and Graystripe. They met at Gatherings, they fought together. Onewhisker watched at a distance as Fireheart became deputy, then leader; and he rejoyced as if it were he himself who was recieving that honor.
Moons passed between them, and at the close of one Gathering, as Onewhisker followed his Clan from the sacred clearing, he looked back and tasted something bittersweet, a new emotion. A gentle yet subtly painful tug at his heart.
This new feeling, it plagued Onewhisker. He connected it to the sight of Firestar's red-orange pelt, the sound of his friend's voice calling his warriors together. He struggled to understand, and was surprised to discover that his feelings of friendship for Firestar had deepened.
Love.
It was complicated; sweetly painful, soaring, wonderful. It amazed and confused Onewhisker. But he said nothing, for Firestar was untouchable. He belonged to ThunderClan, and he had found a mate in Sandstorm.
Then the twolegs came, and the roaring of their monsters heralded an end. There was despair and fear, and for a long time, Onewhisker could not even see the stars.
He felt alone again, even more so than he had in the twoleg tunnels, fearing the attention of Brokenstar. Once again, Firestar gave him hope. He rallied the four Clans, and together, they left the forest for a new home.
It was a harsh journey, but parts of it were good; the unity each cat felt was amazing. As the days passed, they became not four Clans but one. Onewhisker had an excuse to travel near Firestar, and there was no suspicion.
He was inconspicuous. He hid his feelings well, for Onewhisker had no desire to betray his Clan, not to pursue a forbidden cat who would never fully return his love.
No, Onewhisker could see how deeply Firestar cared for Sandstorm, and respected that. He felt only the smallest sparks of jealousy, and these he subdued, too. His friendship with Firestar was important to him; the trust and understanding between them was as close as Onewhisker would ever come to freely showing his feelings. He didn't want to do anything to risk that friendship or cause Firestar pain. So he said nothing.
Now, so many moons later, Onestar had a Clan of his own to care for. Firestar had two daughters, one of whom had her own kits.
As much as Onestar cared for Firestar, he had given up long ago. He acted proud and prickly toward ThunderClan; he was distrustful and distant when his patrols came upon one of Firestar's. Most assumed that Onestar desired his Clan to be independent of ThunderClan, but in reality, Onestar behaved harshly because if there was no alliance, there was no reason to see Firestar. At least now Onestar could have a little peace.
The sun fell beneath the horizon, sucking the light from the sky. Onestar glanced upward, startled by the sudden chill. A few stars already dotted the sky.
"We should catch up with Webfoot and Whitetail,"? he meowed. Crowfeather started, obviously deep in thought. He blinked blue eyes and nodded.
Onestar turned, flicking his tail for Crowfeather to follow. Each cat had his own secrets, his own troubles. Each cat remained silent, moving slowly in the gathering gloom.
Secrets have weight of their own, and sometimes...sometimes, they even seem like they have life.
Chapters: One-shot
Author: Dance
Pairing: Onestar x Firestar
Rating: PG[slash]
Summary: There is nothing quite so painful as loving someone and getting nothing in return. Is it better to keep silent, to watch from a distance, and pretend you feel only friendship for them? Would you regret if it you did?
Warning: Slash
Disclaimer: Warriors belongs to Erin Hunter and Harpercollins.
Author's Notes: A slash pairing of my own creation. This takes place sometime after Twilight. I haven't read TNP in a while, so sorry about any inaccuracies. ^^'
Reflections
The forest was silent, held in the grip of a leaf-fall dusk; the hills of WindClan were etched in gold against a sky splashed carelessly with shades of deep auburn, bruised purple, and warm ocher.
Onestar jogged across the crest of the hill, letting out a breath as his territory unfolded beneath him. Though WindClan had settled into their new land long before, Onestar still felt jarred whenever he opened his eyes each morning. Somehow, he always expected to wake up in the old forest.
The lake was a polished track of dying sunlight, reddish gold. The faint buzz of monsters on the Thunderpath far away was almost comforting to the brown tom; it was a sound he had come to associate with the old forest. There, when the wind fell still the way it was just then, he could always hear it.
It was like being home. Onestar's heart thudded almost painfully, just once; a beat of deepest sorrow for the lands he had lost.
"Fox,"? growled a voice from behind him. Onestar started, and turned back to face his patrol.
"Yes're right, Webfoot,"? Onestar replied, scenting the air. He waved his tail with slight unease.
"Whitetail and I can go check it out," Webfoot offered. "The trail seems faded, it's probably old."
Onestar nodded, and the two warriors raced away. Now only one member of the patrol remained; a lean gray-black tom called Crowfeather. Crowfeather was standing completely still, his eyes trained almost hungrily on the ThunderClan border.
Onestar knew what he was hoping for; he was watching for a glimpse of ThunderClan's medicine cat, Leafpool. When the story of their forbidden affair had reached WindClan, they had been outraged; many of them clamored for Onestar to exile him at once. Crowfeather's willingness to put a ThunderClanner before his own made him nothing more than a useless traitor in their eyes.
But Onestar had allowed the tom to stay. Because he knew perfectly well how painful it was to love someone you absolutely couldn't.
WindClan's leader followed Crowfeather's gaze, a weary sort of sadness touching his face. Unlike Crowfeather, he was not looking for a medicine cat but for a leader.
Onestar remembered well the day he had first met Firestar.
It was dawn, and the bitter chill of night had yet to lift from the damp stone walls of their shelter. Onestar had been merely a warrior then, young and so much more naive. The arrogance of thinking nothing would ever change, that the forest and the moors would be WindClan's forever.
When ShadowClan attacked, it was sudden and vicious. The pain and confusion of that desperate night had followed them as surely as Brokenstar's warriors, spurring them to travel faster and farther.
They lived like rats in twoleg tunnels. But when Fireheart and Graystripe had come at dawn, WindClan rose as one to defend the weak and the ill. Onestar's heart nearly burst with pride; even here, they held on to their honor as warriors.
But the ThunderClanners had come not to finish them, but to bring them home.
The ThunderClan cats were open and willing. They helped where they could, and respected Tallstar's words though he was not their leader. And when Fireheart kindly took Gorsekit from Morningflower the sight filled Onestar with hope. Brokenstar's cruelty and greed had thrown a shadow not just over WindClan, but over all the Clans. For the first time since the battle, Onestar did not feel like WindClan was alone.
He forged a lasting friendship with Fireheart and Graystripe. They met at Gatherings, they fought together. Onewhisker watched at a distance as Fireheart became deputy, then leader; and he rejoyced as if it were he himself who was recieving that honor.
Moons passed between them, and at the close of one Gathering, as Onewhisker followed his Clan from the sacred clearing, he looked back and tasted something bittersweet, a new emotion. A gentle yet subtly painful tug at his heart.
This new feeling, it plagued Onewhisker. He connected it to the sight of Firestar's red-orange pelt, the sound of his friend's voice calling his warriors together. He struggled to understand, and was surprised to discover that his feelings of friendship for Firestar had deepened.
Love.
It was complicated; sweetly painful, soaring, wonderful. It amazed and confused Onewhisker. But he said nothing, for Firestar was untouchable. He belonged to ThunderClan, and he had found a mate in Sandstorm.
Then the twolegs came, and the roaring of their monsters heralded an end. There was despair and fear, and for a long time, Onewhisker could not even see the stars.
He felt alone again, even more so than he had in the twoleg tunnels, fearing the attention of Brokenstar. Once again, Firestar gave him hope. He rallied the four Clans, and together, they left the forest for a new home.
It was a harsh journey, but parts of it were good; the unity each cat felt was amazing. As the days passed, they became not four Clans but one. Onewhisker had an excuse to travel near Firestar, and there was no suspicion.
He was inconspicuous. He hid his feelings well, for Onewhisker had no desire to betray his Clan, not to pursue a forbidden cat who would never fully return his love.
No, Onewhisker could see how deeply Firestar cared for Sandstorm, and respected that. He felt only the smallest sparks of jealousy, and these he subdued, too. His friendship with Firestar was important to him; the trust and understanding between them was as close as Onewhisker would ever come to freely showing his feelings. He didn't want to do anything to risk that friendship or cause Firestar pain. So he said nothing.
Now, so many moons later, Onestar had a Clan of his own to care for. Firestar had two daughters, one of whom had her own kits.
As much as Onestar cared for Firestar, he had given up long ago. He acted proud and prickly toward ThunderClan; he was distrustful and distant when his patrols came upon one of Firestar's. Most assumed that Onestar desired his Clan to be independent of ThunderClan, but in reality, Onestar behaved harshly because if there was no alliance, there was no reason to see Firestar. At least now Onestar could have a little peace.
The sun fell beneath the horizon, sucking the light from the sky. Onestar glanced upward, startled by the sudden chill. A few stars already dotted the sky.
"We should catch up with Webfoot and Whitetail,"? he meowed. Crowfeather started, obviously deep in thought. He blinked blue eyes and nodded.
Onestar turned, flicking his tail for Crowfeather to follow. Each cat had his own secrets, his own troubles. Each cat remained silent, moving slowly in the gathering gloom.
Secrets have weight of their own, and sometimes...sometimes, they even seem like they have life.
I've never thought of the warriors as...