Another overdue request forHufflepuffBadgerLife. Spoilers ahead!
The snow-heavy clouds above the RiverClan camp drifted lazily across the moon's bright, silver glow and showered the sparse forest in sleet. It was bone-chilling as the wind picked up, keeping every cat huddled comfortably in their dens--or almost every cat.
You slept soundly in your nest, until the wind rustling the reeds at the entrance gusted in with a dusting of snowflakes. The resulting shiver down your spine awoke you with a start. You blinked the sleepiness from your eyes, only able to make out a small part in the reeds where some cat was poking their head through.
A whisper pricked up your ears, barely audible amidst the patter of sleet on the roof and the whistling of the wind. But you'd recognise that voice anywhere.
"Oakheart?" you rasped, still groggy and slightly disoriented. "What are you doing out there?"
He shushed you and shook his head, instead gesturing for you to follow him out into the cold. As his head vanished, leaving the reeds swishing in his wake, you considered just going back to sleep. It was frigid out, and as much as RiverClan cats like the water, you did not fancy getting doused in ice-water.
Against your better judgement, you eventually followed with a sigh of defeat. You never could resist him, could you? As quietly as possible, you got to your paws, stretched, and slipped outside through the leaves.
No amount of bracing yourself prepared you for the immediate rush of cold as sleet peppered your pelt, only worsened by the draught through the camp. You shivered, curling your tail around your haunches in a futile attempt to warm yourself.
"This better be good," you warned Oakheart through chattering teeth, following him around the back of the den. He was oddly silent and didn't seem as bothered by the cold despite his soaked pelt clinging to his frame. This had to be important, you reasoned.
"Look, I... I know I'm asking a lot, but--"
His voice broke off abruptly as you failed to hold back a gasp: there, behind the Warrior's den, were two tiny, grey bundles of fur. They were trembling, dripping wet, and staring up at you now with wide, fearful eyes.
See AlsoWarrior Cat x Reader - Goldenstorm101Warrior cats x reader - Chapter 1 - Worrior_Studios - WarriorsBefore Oakheart could explain further, you brushed past him and curled up around the kits. You tucked them into your belly with a paw, trying to warm them even just a little.
"What is this...? What's going on? " you asked just loud enough to be heard over the relentless weather, concern etched into your expression. When Oakheart only shuffled his paws in answer at first, you co*cked your head insistently. "Whose kits are these?"
His chest rising and falling with a deep breath was noticeable, his fur plastered down from the wind and the wet. Finally, he lifted his gaze from his paws, and you were met with those rich, amber eyes.
"Mine," he admitted. "They're mine. And I can't do this without you."
You blinked back at him in surprise. It stung: the revelation that he had kept such a painful secret from you. But this wasn't about your feelings. It didn't matter how you felt about him or how he felt about you, because he was here now, asking for--needing--your help.
"What are you asking me to do?" you asked incredulously, still reeling from the implications. A gust of wind nearly drowned out your soft, shaky voice.
Oakheart sighed heavily, pacing once or twice nervously. "I know this is all so sudden, and I'm sorry, but... they need a mother. I need a front."
The words stung again, and you let out a huff of mirthless laughter. You dropped your gaze to the kits at your side, unable to look him in the eye anymore.
"Is that all I am to you?"
"What? No, no, of course not..."
As much as you wanted to howl at him or give him the silent treatment, you couldn't keep your anger from slipping away in response to the desperation in his voice. He was your weakness, after all. But these kits had to be the priority now. You had to sort this out, and soon; the weather was showing no signs of letting up.
"Fine. Fine, I'll... I'll play along," you relented. Reluctantly, you lifted your head to meet his gaze again. He looked relieved, a stark contrast to his ragged appearance, but you were still unsure. "But you know as well as I do that I can't nurse them."
"I know," he meowed. "Graypool already agreed, but everyone knows she just lost her kits. I couldn't pass them off as hers."
You huffed again, more frustratedly this time. "I don't suppose you're going to tell me who their mother actually is?"
Silence.
"Didn't think so."
And so it went. The Clan didn't take much persuasion to believe the kits were yours; you and Oakheart had always been close friends and spent plenty of time together. You just wished there had been more between the two of you. Now there was only a rift.
The weather was considerably nicer now, the light, new-leaf breeze doing little to diminish the warm glow of the sun in a cloudless sky. You were slightly cooler in the shade of the nursery, watching Oakheart and the kits playing out in the clearing. It should've been a heart-warming sight, but you were troubled; you still knew next to nothing about the whole situation.
A moment later, the kits came skittering back over and you were pulled out of your thoughts. Your ears pricked up as they chattered away, but you weren't paying attention. You watched as Oakheart disappeared through the reeds out of camp with a swish of his tail.
"Hey, can you watch them until I come back?" you asked Graypool, a dreamlike quality to your voice in your distraction. The other queen nodded once you turned to meet her gaze, followed by the immediate whines of the kits behind you as you trotted off in a hurry.
"Oakheart!" you called in as hushed a voice as the distance allowed.
He turned on his heel, ears pricked and eyes wide with pleasant surprise. "What is it?"
"Can we talk?" you asked, dropping your voice to a whisper as you reached his side. "I'm sick of us avoiding each other over this."
"Oh... yeah, okay," he meowed, looking far less happy to see you now. There was a guilty look creeping onto his face, a nervous tremor to his voice.
"Look, I'm not here to judge you or anything," you assured him. "I just want the truth. You can't expect me to keep doing this forever without an explanation. I deserve that much. As your friend."
"You're right," he meowed. His gaze softened with sadness, and he breathed a heavy sigh of defeat. "You deserve more than this... as much more than just my friend."
Your eyes widened slightly in surprise at what sounded like a confession--or rather a reciprocation. But when you parted your jaws to speak, he silenced you.
"I should've told you from the beginning..."
So he did: three moons and two kits too late but better than never. He told you everything. It broke your heart to hear about his love for another, about a third kit lost to the unforgiving leaf-bare storm, but it was a weight lifted from your shoulders all the same. No more secrets. If nothing else, that meant something to you. Maybe it didn't matter if he loved you in the same way--he loved you nonetheless.
"I... am so sorry..." you murmured. In a bold gesture rather unlike you, you pressed up against his flank and nuzzled into the fur of his neck comfortingly. "Thank you for telling me."
His jaws parted, but he was speechless for a heartbeat at your touch. Then he relaxed into it, leaning against you in turn.
"Thank you for understanding," he purred softly. "And for standing by me."
"Always."
