Work Text:
They are all the same when they are born.
They open their eyes, and they are not.
Hollykit peers into Leafpool's den. The seer looks up at her. "Come to see your brother?"
"Is he going to be okay?"
Leafpool tilts her head. "He should heal well." She brushes her tail over him.
"I better," Jaykit grumbles. "I don't want to miss our apprentice ceremony." He sighs. "Did Firestar say anything about it?"
"He says we have to stay in the nursery. And he'll think about it."
"He better make us apprentices," Jaykit says, pushing to his feet and wincing. Leafpool eyes him.
"You need to stay in your nest," she says. "You should—"
"Leafpool? Brackenfur is coughing." Brightheart peers into the den, as if hesitant to enter.
Leafpool sighs. "If I leave you two here, you won't get up to any trouble, right?"
"No," Jaykit says, and Hollykit shakes her head.
"Alright." She pulls a few herbs out of a crack in the rocks. "Hollykit, you can groom Jaykit, if you want. Just don't touch the poultices."
Hollykit starts to groom his pelt, but Jaykit tenses, and she pulls back. "Am I hurting you?"
Leafpool sighs. "Hold on a moment." She licks her paw, picking up a few tiny, black, round seeds. "Have this."
Jaykit laps them off the ground.
"What're those?" Hollykit asks, curiosity overwhelming her.
Leafpool laughs. "Stay with your brother, Hollykit. I'll be back soon."
Things are different when she is an apprentice. Suddenly there is so much she can't say. Suddenly there is so much she knows.
Jaypaw shares prey with her in the evenings and asks her what she's learning and Hollypaw can barely get two words out before she has to stop herself.
"I'm learning about infection," she begins, and then stops. "Leafpool and I went for a walk," she tries, and then stops. "I miss you," she says.
Her words are dangerous. If she says too much, Jaypaw will be exiled. If she shares an omen, she jeopardizes the careful trust StarClan places in seers. If she tells him how much she misses sharing a nest with him and Lionpaw, she reinforces their bond instead of distancing herself from it.
At least Jaypaw understands. Sometimes he starts a question, and then stops, trailing into another anecdote from his day. Or he interrupts her if she starts to talk about patterns in acorns. Or he says, "I love you," in a way that is soft and doesn't make her feel worse.
"It's hard," Leafpool remarks one night. "It's the hardest burden we take, I think. The separation, the secrecy — it's not always obvious why we must keep it." She licks Hollypaw's cheek. "We have each other, of course, but it's not the same. Willowpaw and Kestrelpaw don't replace Jaypaw and Lionpaw anymore than I replace Squirrelflight."
"It's okay," Hollypaw says, even if she's not sure if that's true.
"I suppose we learn to make it okay," Leafpool says, like she can feel Hollypaw's doubt.
Omens and herbs feel beyond her, sometimes. She remembers marigold for cuts and feverfew for fever and poppy seeds for pain, but then Leafpool asks her what to give to queens and she can't remember the name, much less pick it out of the piles.
Leafpool is never angry or disappointed. She never tells Hollypaw she should have been able to read an omen, or chastises Hollypaw for mixing up which clouds mean rain and which mean danger on the borders.
But still, Hollypaw takes refuge in what she is good at: their history. Every ancestor Leafpool shares sinks deep into her memory, embedding itself in the same place Hollypaw knows herself. They aren't like the other stories ThunderClan tells. They are Leafpool's voice filling their den, telling stories of those long past the way Honeypaw and Cinderpaw gossip about apprentices in other Clans.
Most of what she shares with Jaypaw is stories. They're not secrets, not really, and it is hard to resist sharing them when she can't say anything else.
They drink from the Moonpool.
Hollypaw dreams of nothing.
Leafpool turns to her in their den. "Hollypaw," she begins, her voice soft and in pain and bad. "StarClan shared something with me."
Hollypaw won't remember this moment, after, the emotions crashing into her so overpowering that it is just a smear of anger-fear-grief, but this is what happens:
"You were never meant to be my apprentice," Leafpool continues. "I'm sorry. I misread the signs."
"No," Hollypaw says, "no, you're — this is some kind of test."
Leafpool shakes her head. "Hollypaw, you have no idea how sorry I am."
She touches her nose to Hollypaw's, and Hollypaw flinches back.
"I'm going to tell the Clan," Leafpool explains, "and then..."
"This is about Jaypaw, isn't it?"
Leafpool doesn't answer her, but Hollypaw will learn in a moment that it is.
"I'm afraid you can't..." Leafpool's voice breaks. "From this moment on, you are no longer permitted to let StarClan speak through you. Your only words to a Clan cat will be at your sentencing."
It doesn't really matter. Hollypaw has no words.
"Let all cats old enough to catch their own prey gather beneath the High Ledge for a Clan meeting."
Hollypaw sits at the edge of the den as the Clan gathers. It is the time between sunhigh and moonrise: an inauspicious time for a meeting. Leafpool sits beneath him, and when she sees Hollypaw staring, she looks away.
Jaypaw and Lionpaw beckon to her. Hollypaw looks at the ground.
"Hollypaw!" Jaypaw calls. "What're you doing over there?"
Brightheart hisses at him to hush, and she glances back up. He's got one ear twisted in her direction, like he's listening for her to walk over to him.
"Leafpool has an annoucement," Firestar says, and Hollypaw watches her mentor climb up to him, moving slowly.
"StarClan has sent me a vision," she says. "Hollypaw is not my rightful apprentice. Jaypaw is."
A ripple and gasp flow over ThunderClan, and Hollypaw is acutely aware of their eyes.
She'll remember this part.
"No!" Jaypaw shouts. "Leafpool, no, I don't want this!"
He stands, and Brightheart looks mortified, but Leafpool closes her eyes. "It is StarClan's will."
"What happens now?" someone asks. Hollypaw can't tell who it is — all the cats are starting to blur together.
"She will be sentenced," Leafpool says. "Immediately."
There's only one sentence that awaits her.
"No!" Jaypaw shouts again. "I won't let you, I don't accept, you have to take her." He bristles, and turns to her. "Hollypaw, please, there was a sign!"
"Jaypaw," Firestar says. "If you cannot control yourself, you will not be permitted to come to Hollypaw's sentencing."
Jaypaw splutters a few more meaningless syllables, and then falls silent. Firestar takes a breath. "Hollypaw's kin will accompany Leafpool and I to her sentencing."
ThunderClan disperses in silence. It is an ugly thing to witness, and no one wants to linger in the aftermath.
Those who remain don't have a choice.
The walk to the outer border takes a lifetime. Hollypaw lives and dies and is reborn in it, and is made a new cat before they can strip her of herself. She walks between Firestar and Leafpool, her family trailing behind them, like if they don't witness it, it won't happen.
She sits, facing them, looking into ThunderClan's territory for the last time.
Brambleclaw has his tail wrapped around Squirrelflight, and Lionpaw and Jaypaw press against her, like they're still kits. They're only eight moons old. It wasn't so long ago that they were. Hollypaw tries to commit this image to memory. She can't get it to fit where she knows Lightningtail and Morningwind and Freckleface, so she stares at them, trying to know this so well she sees it when she closes her eyes.
Leafpool steps in front of her, blocking Hollypaw's perfect vision of her family. "I, Leafpool, seer of ThunderClan, call upon my warrior ancestors to look down upon this codebreaker." It takes every ounce of strength — every ounce of stubbornness, the kind that made Brambleclaw compare her to Squirrelflight — for Hollypaw not to flinch at the word. She hasn't done anything. If the Code was broken, it was because StarClan misled them. "She has entered into her apprenticeship under false pretenses, without the true approval of StarClan, and for that, she must be demoted."
Leafpool hesitates.
Hollypaw looks her in her eyes.
"I — StarClan has spoken of this," Leafpool says. "Hollypaw, do you deny it?"
"No."
She thinks Squirrelflight sobs.
"Then by the powers of StarClan, I hereby strip you of your position as seer."
Leafpool steps back.
Hollypaw takes what will be her final look of her family. Squirrelflight has her face pressed into Brambleclaw's side, and he licks her head, before giving Hollypaw a tiny nod. Jaypaw is still quivering with rage, but, as if afraid he could somehow make this worse, he stays silent. Only Lionpaw looks straight at her, but when she meets his eyes, he looks down.
Firestar takes Leafpool's place, and with a deep and heavy sigh, he puts on the posture of a Clan leader. "For the crimes of stealing the secrets of the seers, I hereby exile you from ThunderClan. Should any cat see you, they will kill you."
This is one of the worst crimes. There is no leniency should she venture back onto ThunderClan territory; it is said it is only to save the leader from having to kill that they are merely exiled.
Hollypaw sits in perfect stillness and silence as he raises his paw, striking across her nose twice. The pain is sharp enough she wants to gasp, but she doesn't. She focuses on it, bringing her back to blinding focus.
He steps back.
He does not look her in her eyes.
Without a word, her family turns and leaves. She's no longer someone they have a right to bid farewell to. Squirrelflight looks back at her, briefly, and Brambleclaw murmurs something. Hollypaw watches them disappear into the tree line, and then Leafpool steps forward once more.
"I strip you of your Clan name," Leafpool says. She carries marigold with her, and will lay it down over the border where Hollypaw crosses. Wards off infection, like the rot of a seer who betrayed the stars. Hollypaw has done nothing. "The only name we will know you by is Holly."
Leafpool steps forward, and Hollypaw (Holly? Does Leafpool have the right to take her name? Does StarClan still govern her?) doesn't move. Firestar has turned away, as if he cannot bear to watch his granddaughter be cast out for the crime of being wrongly chosen.
"I want you to know," Leafpool whispers, "that this is not my choice, and that you are my daughter."
She steps back, and gives Holly a final look. Holly will process this information later, over the coming days and moons, rattling over the word daughter.
Not just daughter; blood-daughter.
"Leave now," Leafpool says, and Holly does. She doesn't run, she walks across and then keeps walking without turning back.
On the first night, she doesn't even bother trying to catch something.
She can't clean her wounds — exile marks are given on the nose for that reason. She's not supposed to be able to heal them; they are supposed to scar so that every Clan cat will know she has committed an unforgivable crime on sight.
So has Leafpool, but she has long returned to ThunderClan, moving Jaypaw into Hollypaw's nest, preparing him to be brought before StarClan.
Holly could have broken her silence.
But she didn't.
Love doesn't vanish because you want it to.
When the sun rises, Holly rises from her nest. Her nose has stopped bleeding, and she touches it gingerly with her paw, feeling the way it is hot and painful and still slightly sticky.
Well.
They can stop her from cleaning it herself, but Holly knows how to clean and treat wounds.
She finds a stream and sticks her muzzle straight in the water, waiting for the cold to transition from painful to numbing. She continues her trek away from ThunderClan, eyes peeled for marigold, plastering it to her own nose with her paw. It is, Holly is sure, inelegant and ineffective. There is more to avoiding scars than a marigold poultice, and Firestar had to cut deep enough to ensure it.
There are some who say StarClan doesn't let exile marks fade.
But she won't die because of it.
By the second night, the hunger is unignorable.
It doesn't matter. She can't catch anything.
Holly wanders deeper and deeper into the outside world. Occasionally, she is able to catch a field mouse, and she gulps it down eagerly, but she mostly finds nothing.
Burnet is for strength. When Holly finds a patch, she swallows as much as is safe to stave off hunger and exhaustion.
After a few days, she finds herself in a Twolegplace like none she's ever seen. Holly glances back at where she's come.
Nothing behind her is worth revisiting. Her ache for her kin is strong, and she even misses Leafpool's companionship, but it only takes her accidentally brushing her still healing nose against something to be reminded of their betrayal.
It is meant to remind them of what she has done; they will never see her again. Holly will bear this mark as a reminder of how swift they were to discard her.
As the sun sets, new lights blink on, like giant fireflies. The noise and roar of the Twolegs stays constant, and when Holly looks up at the sky, she can't find the moon. Still, she finds somewhere sheltered and warm to spend the night, leaving the gnawing ache in her stomach for the morning.
When she wakes, it is to a hissing tom.
"This is mine," he says.
Holly blinks. "It's not marked."
"It's still mine," he snarls. His claws flash at her face, and Holly sinks back. "What," he says, "that wasn't enough for you?"
Before Holly can say or do anything, there's another voice.
"Get out of here," it says. "You don't own that corner."
"Stay out of this, Clara," he warns, baring his teeth at Holly.
"Leave her alone," Clara says. "I'm not afraid to make you." She steps out of the shadows — a calico she-cat with a grey patch over her nose. "Don't make me drive you off again, Parsnip."
The tom growls, and Clara slinks past him, leaping next to Holly and wrapping her tail around them.
"You're insane if you're protecting a random newcomer," Parsnip says. "Mark me, Clara, one day you're going to pick a fight you can't win."
"I'll win this one," she says. "Wanna bet?"
Parsnip flicks his tail, and Clara turns to Holly.
"You," she says, "have less sense than a kit. Why didn't you just run?"
Holly fumbles for words, and Clara sighs.
"Well, look, kit, you're going to have to figure it out. This is a big city and I'm not that big a cat."
Holly finds there isn't much prey, and she catches other cats jumping into strange, rectangular boxes, much like the one she slept behind, she can't bring herself to try the strange food they carry out of it.
Clara finds her in the evening.
"Haven't left yet?"
"Where else would I go?"
"Parsnip will be back to make a point."
Holly huffs. "Well, I don't have anywhere else to sleep."
"Sure you do." Clara beckons Holly over with her tail. "There's an alley in every direction. Just pick a new one."
"How was I supposed to know that?"
Clara purrs in amusement. "Well, by taking a walk, for one thing. You aren't from here, are you?"
Holly shakes her head, and then adds, "My name is Holly."
She's still not sure who she is, but she's not a part of the Clans anymore. That happened before Firestar and Leafpool made it official.
Clara teaches Holly how to hunt, but she also insists Holly try eating scraps they scavange.
Holly learns new words daily.
They fit in place as easily as the stories Leafpool told her.
"You can't be that young," Clara says. "Didn't your mother teach you anything?"
Who is her mother? Squirrelfight? Leafpool? No one?
"I know some things," Holly says. "I know how to treat the cough you're trying to hide."
Clara raises her eyebrow.
"We'll have to go looking for herbs," Holly says. "Or, I will, and then..."
Wait.
Why shouldn't Clara come with her? Holly is neither warrior nor seer; what obligation does she have to keep their secrets? Why not commit the crime that exiled her? There's no undoing either action.
"We'll have to go on a bit of a trip," Holly decides. "But tomorrow."
Clara touches her nose to Holly's shoulder. "What's on your mind?"
"I'm a year old," Holly explains. Lionpaw must be a warrior by now. But Clara doesn't know the first thing about the Code or the Clans. "I guess I miss my brothers."
"Do you know where they are? We could visit."
Holly snorts. "Trust me, they don't miss me." She leans her head against Clara. "Anyway, I'm happy here. I like this. I don't want to lose it, or have to drive off Milk and Tangle again."
"It is a nice place," Clara agrees. "Do you think more injured cats will come?"
"Word of mouth," Holly says. "And maybe you and I can go look for some at the start." She looks around where they've settled. Above them, Twolegs walk across the floor, and the air is dusty and just slightly damp, but no more than Leafpool's den, and plenty of cats recovered there. She and Clara have made a nest out of a pillow, dragging it into a box, and they've settled near to several groves of herbs.
"You're distracted again," Clara remarks.
Holly sighs. Funny that she never adopted Leafpool's unfocused gaze and hazy expression as a seer, yet now, Clara remarks on it regularly.
"Everyone who comes to us is going to learn," she says. "They're going to learn how we treated them."
"Whatever you want," Clara purrs. Holly feels her yawn. "We can make more plans in the morning." She leaves, headed towards their nest, but Holly scrambles up to the window. It's dirty and hard to see through, and too low to the ground to make out the sky, but she pretends.
Loners believe in the first Cat, Leafpool said. The Moon was her mother, just as we believe, but she did not go on to found any Clans. Instead, she ran from the first Fox endlessly.
There was a wistful look in her eyes as she explained it.
How are there other cats, then? Hollypaw had asked.
The story doesn't say.
Holly glances at Clara, curled up in their nest, and at nooks she imagines sick cats might rest in. She only has a few months of herbs to share, but that's enough for most things.
Until today, Holly has been a Clan cat. She has lived by their rules, as much as she can, and she has wondered what judgement StarClan cast on her.
Now, she leaps back to the ground.
Loners say the Fox will never catch the Cat.
The Clans say StarClan will judge them all.
Holly will be a loner in the morning, she decides. She likes that story better.