Work Text:
Hollyheart had stood tall and beautiful on a branch of the Great Oak and Squirrelflight had known in that moment that things would never be the same. She had known before her daughter (her niece) had even started to speak that awful truth.
(Once she and her mate had said, half teasing and half genuine, that little Hollykit seemed destined for leadership.
How ironic that seemed now.)
Hollyheart had run into the tunnels, not even leaving a body to mourn over.
Thunderclan’s healer had broken two laws and lied about it; the deputy had further buried the truth, claimed illegal kits as their own. Both could no longer be trusted in their roles, no matter how sympathetic Firestar felt.
Jayfeather was a fine healer. Brackenfur made for a perfectly serviceable deputy.
It would be easier, she thought, if the three of them remained united, even if their kits resented them. Squirrelflight had chosen her sister, and Brambleclaw had chosen them over clan law. It should have been enough, even if the rest of the clan rejected them.
It wasn’t.
Their sons (her nephews) glared at them and turned away. Leafpool withered under their disdain, Brambleclaw withdrew and turned cold, and Squirrelflight witnessed it all.
This is your fault, the silence said.
“Would it really have been so bad?” Brambleclaw asked quietly, turning away from the sunset-drenched lake. “If Leafpool had just been honest from the start?”
She could only gaze helplessly back into those familiar amber eyes. What answer was there to give?
What answer could fill the growing hollow between them, the consequences of their choices?
“I love you,” she whispered. It wasn’t enough; it still needed to be said.
Brambleclaw, who had always been better with actions than words, bumped her head against her shoulder before turning away.