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frogmanwritings · 3 years

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Loyal and Loving | A Thrushpelt and Bluestar one-shot

I tried to stick to canon with this, with Bluestar not truly loving Thrushpelt, but I may have strayed some lol. Let me know what you think, kinda went outside my comfort zone to make a one-shot.

Alternative reading links: Fanfiction AO3

Bluestar always wanted to be leader. To be the face of her clan, to lead through thick and thin. And going through the thick, it was glorious. It was painful at times, to remember what she had given up to do it, but being able to stand up on the Highrock, to look down at her allies, her warriors, her friends... it was comfortable, everything she had ever dreamed of. But going through the thin right now? It was agonizing. This leafbare was the most brutal one that she had ever experienced, with prey being extremely scarce and sickness ravaging the camp. And tales with the elders only confirmed, this one was the worst they had ever seen as well.

The conditions for kits was unbearable, and Robinwing's most recent litter had already lost two kits within a moon of their birth, while a third, named Ravenkit, was fighting greencough. Elders were starving, with Windflight's body unable to hold up with the lessened food, and passed on just a few nights ago. Adderfang, stubborn as a badger, refused to rest in brutal conditions, and eventually died of illness as well. Even Rosetail, her friend for most of her life, lost her entire litter to illness, and was ravaged so badly by greencough that she had to retire to the elder's den, her lungs too far damaged to keep up with a warrior's life anymore.

As much as she tried to remain strong, it was appearing near impossible with death and suffering was clawing its way through her Clan, intent on claiming every life within it. And sitting in her den, Bluestar tried to calm her breathing. They would get through these moons, to get to newleaf, where the snow melted, illness passed, and prey became plentiful again, but it was at a snail's pace, and how many more cats would they have to lose to get there?

"Bluestar?"

The voice of Spottedleaf made the leader blink, looking upward towards the beautiful dappled medicine cat. Usually, in any other condition, the presence of the tortoiseshell was comforting, her mood and intelligence always lightening the mood. But in times like these, it just made Bluestar's stomach tighten, with news of another cat dying or falling ill coming her way. And with the look of sorrow in her eyes, she suspected no different. But even so, she kept her face as straight as she could, her fur only bristling just a bit.

"It's.. Thrushpelt." That sweet voice meowed, and Bluestar let a shiver run through her fur. Thrushpelt was a... special cat. Not because he was extraordinary at anything, he was just generally.. good at everything, but he was a welcoming spirit to the Clan, his kindness never leaving him and his warm green eyes promising comfort. But also, he was her mate. Or at least, that's what they had the Clan believe.

Bluestar foolishly engaged with Riverclan's Oakheart when she was younger. Her heart would always belong with him, but she ended up pregnant with his kits, and in order to cover for herself, she needed a tom within the Clan to be her mate. And Thrushpelt, he was infatuated with her, and agreed without any further question. Which made it all the worse that she had to then give away her kits to Oakheart later, when the Clan needed a new deputy, and Thistleclaw would bring Thunderclan to ruins under his reign.

"Is he sick too?" Bluestar carefully asked, knowing that another sick warrior was the last thing they needed now, already being short on paws. And yet the sorrow-filled eyes of Spottedleaf only turned darker. "He's dying."

"What?" That made the leader jolt up to her paws, her body suddenly rigid after having been slumped over before. "H-How? He just went out on patrol, was there-" "There was no attack. Redtail and Lionheart had to drag him back to camp, he collapsed after a heavy coughing fit. I'm not sure if it's greencough, but.."

Bluestar blinked, her pelt suddenly feeling hot, the tips of her ears and tail burning, yet this warmth during leafbare was something she did not desire. She'd rather be cold and shivering than.. this. "He wants to see you, Bluestar. I've given him some medicine and some poppy seeds to ease his suffering, but.. it won't be much longer." Spottedleaf went on, and her tone went low as she explained, ears flattening just a bit.

There was almost no time for the leader to process all of this. Just a few seconds of thought, of realization, before she nodded to her medicine cat. "You did the right thing, Spottedleaf." Bluestar mewed, hoping her tone didn't sound too shrivel and was comforting enough as she began to pad past, out to the snow-filled camp. Apprentices were making fortifications to the camp, warriors were constantly on the move, measly morsels of prey in their mouths before they went right back out, elders and queens camped away in their dens. When the leader was spotted exiting her den, she could see a few cats dip their heads away, while others looked to her for guidance, for words of encouragement.

But there was nothing she could tell them now. Another cat was dying to this forsaken season, and she had to be there for his last moments. Leaping down from her den, she quickly padded over to Spottedleaf's den. "Bluestar, I-" Darkstripe began to speak up to her, but a hiss from the trailing medicine cat quieted him. The young warrior's words would have to wait, their leader was needed for a cat's final moments. And this one had to be the most bitter for her yet.

"Thrushpelt?" Bluestar called out gently, dipping her head into the den, the smell of herbs instantly hitting her in the face, but her tired eyes eventually caught the sight of the pale brown fur of the warrior, huddled up in a den of moss. "Bluestar..?" She could hear him call out in return, but it was practically a croak, and she quietly hissed. That was how Windflight sounded before he passed. How did this happen so quickly...

"I'm here, Thrushpelt, I'm here.." She meowed, walking forward and immersing herself fully into the den, seeing those light green eyes, like the grass of newleaf, open up and meet her gaze. Maybe in another life, she could find herself tantalized by that gaze, to fall in love with it. He was certainly a handsome tom, charming in his own way, and if he hadn't been so infatuated with her, he would've surely found himself a mate. But instead, he acted as hers, to keep her secret safe. He was loyal to a fault, and Bluestar could never thank him enough for it.

And now, at his side, Bluestar could see the extent of his illness. Green mucus was splattered on the ground next to the moss, his nose running and chin damp with drool. The brightness in his gaze had dimmed, and even while under the influence of those poppy seeds, his flank was still raising quickly, as though desperately sucking in air for damaged lungs. He was very sick, and the leader could hardly bare it. "Bluestar.. I'm sorry."

Thrushpelt apologized, and this time, the leader made sure her hiss was heard. "Don't apologize." She practically ordered him, and yet he continued to meow in a shriveled tone. "I knew I was sick... but I couldn't just stop. I couldn't bear to hear Robinwing's kits whine. The elders.. begging for prey. Apprentices working up frostbite. So.. I hid it."

"You acted valiantly, Thrushpelt, it's ok." Bluestar responded, laying her body down close to his, one of her paws pressing down over his. Her ears could pick up Spottedleaf gently backing out of the den, as though to give the two their final moments together. "Starclan will honor you. I promise."

A harsh cough then escaped from Thrushpelt's mouth, more green spit flying out, though thankfully the warrior had enough mind to turn his head away. As much as Bluestar wanted to be there for her warrior, she couldn't afford to get sick when she needed to be the beacon for the Clan. Though it still made her ears flatten to hear, her heart aching for the tom.

"I'm.. I'm not scared, Bluestar. I'm.. happy." He mewed softly, turning back to her once he wiped his muzzle with the moss of his bedding. "I get to see our kits again..." His eyes lit up just briefly at that, meeting Bluestar's gaze, and her heart sank. Guilt had always raked her heart over giving away her kits, not just because she was losing them, but because Thrushpelt was too.

He knew that they weren't his, and that he was merely to keep her secret affair with Oakheart safe. And yet he loved them, with all of his heart. She thought back to how her father treated her and Snowkit, when they were kits, and he almost never took enough time out of the day to truly see them. Bluestar loved her father and understood that he put his duties first, like she did in a way, but it was something heartwarming to see how good a father could be, with Thrushpelt. One could've never guessed that her kits wasn't his, with how much he loved them.

Anytime she needed a break, be it to stretch her legs and walk or just needing to relax after having three kits prod their growing claws against her belly, he was there. If they wanted to topple a fox, he played the biggest and baddest one. If Stonekit was the valiant leader, he was the most loyal warrior, ready to take any command.

And when she gave them away... when she had to tell Thrushpelt the lie, that a predator had scooped them away, it almost made her break, and tell him the truth instead, though she knew she couldn't. He looked, and looked, and looked. No other cat, not even Bluestar herself, looked as badly as he did. She could still remember the look of absolute sorrow in his eyes as he began to realize that they'd never find them. Just thinking of it made her gulp down any sound of sorrow.

And that was why she couldn't tell him now. As much as she wanted to, Bluestar knew that him passing would be far easier if he thought their kits were waiting for him, and she could only hope that he wouldn't be angry once he realized, even if he had all the right. At the very least, he'd have Mosskit, and she could only hope that that would satisfy him when he went. "Take good care of them... for us." She meowed, dipping her head close to his flank.

Did she love him? Well, she loved all of her clanmates, happily ready to sacrifice herself for any of them. But there was no denying that Thrushpelt.. he was special. Perhaps she wasn't in love with him, perhaps he wasn't truly the one for her, but she also couldn't deny that there was some semblance there. Acting as mates together, there had to be some level of acting in order to keep appearances. They'd join patrols together, eat prey together, share tongues, and he'd never ask for anything more. Perhaps in another life..

"I'll tell them.. all the tales of their mother." Thrushpelt croaked, ending his sentence with a sigh, as though it was difficult for him to let out. His time was coming closer, and Bluestar pushed her nose against his flank. To comfort him, to feel his breaths... to be close to him as Starclan began to take him.

"Oh. I can feel it.." He mewed, his body slowly beginning to tingle and shake, his mouth gaping and eyes widening. Starclan was coming to take him now, and Bluestar could only murmur sadly. As to bring him anymore comfort, to make his journey any easier, it was the least that she could do for him, for any of her cats who were dying in front of her.

"I'll miss you, Thrushpelt." She uttered. Just outside of him being the former father to her kits, he was a great warrior. His jaws always swelling with prey, his claws always meeting their mark, a kind soul that looked out for others and a stern face when there needed to be one. Thunderclan would certainly miss his presence, and getting through leafbare would be even more difficult without him, though her mind didn't linger on that at the moment. Right now, in Spottedleaf's den, it was just the two of them, in his final moments, with everything else outside not existing. Just for these minutes.

"Bl-Bluestar.." His voice had lowered even quieter, but Bluestar could just hear it, turning her head to see his gaze on her, green and blue eyes mingling together. "Get the clan.. through this.. I know you will.." He rasped, the emotion in those eyes unmistakable, even with his body weakening. "I'll.. always love you." He whispered in a hush, that adoration gleaming in his eyes, and she heard it loud and clear. Her heart tightened, and the leader stepped forward to push her muzzle against his forehead, her paw pressing down over his and a comforting rumble in her throat building next to his ears. "Rest.." She could only murmur, as to speak any louder would allow the crack of grief to be audible in her tone.

Silence filled the den for the next seconds, almost as though it were abandoned, before finally, Bluestar could feel that last shutter run through Thrushpelt, a mild gasp acting as his final breath, and his body finally still. Thrushpelt had passed. And the leader took the time to drag her tongue over his head, to take in his scent one last time, to groom him one last time. She'd give him this moment, to show him that she truly cared as he ascended to Silverpelt.

And when Spottedleaf peaked in, she only nodded her head to Bluestar, in a quiet understanding that.. Bluestar just wanted these few more minutes before they took out to the center of camp. To Spottedleaf and the rest of the clan, their leader would grieve for him as a mate. But for her, and for him, it'd be because of a deep bond that never turned romantic, but it was someone that Bluestar could never, and would never want to replace. He was there when she needed him, went far and beyond what she asked of him, and never faltered in his loyalty.

That was just the type of cat Thrushpelt was. Loyal and loving.

#bluestar #bluestar's prophecy #warriors #warrior cats #thrushpelt #thrushblue #fanfiction #fanfic

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