Chapter Text
Leafpool had played many roles in her life: sister, daughter, mother, apprentice, healer, oracle. They had taken her down more paths than she could count. She had seen far off lands in the mountains; met cats who spoke in lilted voices and blended in with the ice-cold stone to confuse their prey. She spoke to her ancestors, who warned of dire conflict through twisted prophecies and murky visions.
She stood beside her sister when the world wanted to forget Squirrelflight’s role in saving the Clans and finding their new home – all because Squirrelflight stood beside her when Leafpool had nowhere else to go. She made her mentor and family proud – and surely disappointed them too. But they loved her and she them just the same.
But of all the roles Leafpool fulfilled in her too-short yet somehow too-long life, only one had her creeping through moonlit dew at the edge of StarClan’s hunting grounds, heart pounding in her chest so loudly she was sure Sorreltail could hear it where she left her sleeping.
Lover.
The young spirit peered out at the meadow, the flowers still and forever in bloom. She tried to appreciate the beauty of the glen, but she couldn’t help but glance over at the yawning darkness in the background. Wilting bracken lined the bottoms of the trees, creating a stark border between the valley and decaying woods. And though the Dark Forest had been silent for several seasons now, part of Leafpool still feared it would spew out the ghosts of vicious, damned warriors, determined to stain StarClan’s silver valleys with red.
As she mustered up the courage to step farther into the field, she caught movement coming from the edge of the wood. She froze, tense and ready for a fight, before letting out a sigh.
Only Hawkfrost.
The tom quickly spotted her, his eyes sparkling like chips of ice. Leafpool watched as he bounded over, purring; as he tried to push his head against hers, she jerked back, only seeing the angry wound in his throat, still scarlet red as if the fatal injury had been dealt just this morning.
“I hate that you still have that,” she said simply. Hawkfrost shrugged.
“StarClan cats may be able to return to the time they’re happiest, but I don’t have that luxury.”
She swallowed the lump in her throat. “But you could have.”
For a moment, it looked as though Hawkfrost was growing angry, but he sighed, his shoulders sagging. “There’s no point wishing the past could change, Leafpool. We both know that.”
“I know,” she longed to lean against him, and let their tabby-and-white fur blend together, but she remained still. “We shouldn’t be meeting like this.”
“C’mon!” he laughed. “We’re not two starstruck lovers, sneaking out of our camps anymore. There’s no code up here that says we can’t speak.”
“StarClan wouldn’t exactly be thrilled if they saw me here, though.”
“StarClan aren’t exactly thrilled with a lot of things you’ve done, dear.” He laughed again at her glare. “And here I thought my wit was what won you over all those moons ago.”
Leafpool turned away. “That was a different time. Before you- before things changed.”
Hawkfrost fell silent at that, staring at the smaller cat. He sat down next to her, settling in the long grass. “Leafpool,” he dragged out her name, as if saying it too quickly would frighten her away. “Please – let’s not talk about that now. Not here. Your father forgave me.”
Leafpool’s head snapped around, eyes blazing. “He didn’t forgive you, Hawkfrost. He just stopped StarClan from killing you off for good. If you were forgiven, you’d be with me.” Where you promised you’d be, she stopped herself from saying out loud.
She watched as Hawkfrost hung his head and couldn’t stop the pang in her chest at the regret filling his eyes. Suddenly, she blurted out: “Is there something I could have done to stop it?”
Hawkfrost sighed. “No. You did all you could- you almost did stop it, but I told you: by the time I realized, it was too late.” He rubbed a large paw against his forever-wound, wincing. “And trust me, I’ll never forget how much of a fool I was for throwing away the life I could have had with you. The life I could have had with our kits.”
“I wish you could have met them,” she muttered. “Properly, I mean. As their father.”
“Do you think Hollyleaf will ever come with-”
“No,” Leafpool snapped. “I told you, Hawkfrost, she doesn’t want that. And I won’t force her. Our mistakes have harmed her enough. That goes for Lionblaze and Jayfeather when they reach StarClan, too.”
“‘Course,” the tom grunted. “Though I did get to spend some time with Lionblaze. Positive time, I mean.”
Leafpool curled her lip. “You call training our son in bloodlust ‘positive time’?”
“Well I enjoyed it.”
“You’re incorrigible.”
“Sometimes I think that’s what made you fall for me.”
Leafpool stared at the flowers ahead, her face burning with annoyance. Only when you used that stubborn personality for good. Not to rip everything apart in a desperate attempt to please the father he never knew. She blinked back tears as she realized: Hawkfrost had drowned his own future with his children in bloodlust that had grown out of a desperation to bond with a father who had missed out on his life because of his own evil path.
She could only thank every ancestor she knew that Lionblaze had broken the cycle with his children. And Jayfeather, though coarse, was one of the most compassionate healers she knew. But Hollyleaf… the brutal weight of it all had broken her and sent her spiraling dangerously close to the edge. Now the young warrior rested in StarClan, clearly wanting to be with her mother but not knowing how to wade through the misery and resentment to make it to Leafpool’s side.
Just like I am with Hawkfrost.
“What thoughts are racing through that brilliant head of yours?” the tom in question asked, breaking Leafpool out of her trance. She hesitated, not wanting this meeting to yet again end in an argument over things neither of them could do anything about.
“Just… thinking about Hollyleaf,” she said lamely. “She just seems so lonely. I mean, she’ll spend time with me or my parents, but… well, all her friends are still below. And even though there aren’t any borders up here, I think she struggles to trust strangers.”
Hawkfrost nodded. “Well, from what little I saw, she always seemed independent. I mean, it was usually just her brothers she spent her time with.”
“And Cinderheart.”
“Your mentor?”
“No – well, yes, technically – not anymore though. Lionblaze’s mate.”
“Mm.” Hawkfrost looked up at the black sky. “She looks so much like Tadpole, you know.”
“I wish I could have met him.”
“Me too.” Another stretch of silence settled between them until Hawkfrost gave himself a small shake, as if dispelling the grief Leafpool knew he still held onto over his long-lost brother. “Do you remember when we met?”
Leafpool let out a purr. “Which time? The time you properly introduced yourself or the time you almost tore me apart for having the audacity to speak to Mothwing about medicine cat business in your… magnificent warrior presence?”
“So I’m not known for positive first impressions…”
“That much can be said.” She looked up at him, feeling a flicker of the love that had brought her to the border of RiverClan and ThunderClan so many times.
“But I am good at lasting impressions.”
“Oh, Hawkfrost. That’s quite the understatement.”