#she has a juniper berry tucked into her ear

[gatorsnot]

"Oh, Crookedstar. You've had to walk a dark and terrible path alone. None of these deaths are your fault. I doubt if they're Mapleshade's fault, either. Sometimes bad things happen for no reason, or for reasons we can't understand. Please never feel like you need to suffer alone again. I will always be on your side. I'm your medicine cat. You can trust me with anything."

~~~

darling, dearest, sweetest heart, don't ever change.

[fallenclan]

// death is a pretty big theme in this fic, so yeah.

// part 2 of my first silverbelly fic and i would super appreciate if u could link the first one because i can't for some reason LOLL

"Here," Silverbelly says, holding out a few blue berries on her paw. "There were extra."

"What do I do with them?" Flypaw stares at her, round eyes wide.

"I don't mind," she replies. Then, she walks off to go congratulate Wormshade.

The next day, she wakes up, checks on her kids, and Flypaw has the berries tucked right behind his ear. She has no doubts that Mudpaw was the one who helped him put it there.

She goes about her day as normal. Rearranges her herbs, shares a rabbit with Applebranch and Maplethorn (who is exhausted of constantly third wheeling them), and shows Stormkit the herbs.

She cleared out Sunwish's nest the day after her vigil. Cleared out the scatteredly organized herbs, and tried not to stare at Scorchstar too much.

Scorchstar didn't share tongues with Sunwish before her death, and she didn't bring her body back to camp. It's not like they were close in the way Honeygleam and Dawnshine were, where their scents tended to rub off on eachother. In fact, she's fairly sure that she's only seen Scorchstar and Sunwish speaking a total of seven times in as many moons.

Scorchstar being in her pelt made no sense.

It was a mystery in the same way that Ivyleaf and Otterslip look uncannily alike. Neither of them ever addressed this, but it was obvious they were somehow related to eachother.

She recalls the vision, of the line of blood trailing from one rock to the next. The glinting of amber eyes and blood trapped between claws.

--

She's digging through the snow, desparate. Damp leaves stick on her paws.

"Where is he?" Wormshade wails.

"We'll find him," Honeygleam says. "He can't have gone far."

Avalanches were one of the dangers lying in wait. With the changing seasons came fluctuating warmth, resulting in the toppling snow and rock that came hurtling down the mountain moments ago.

She stares at where Goldenflare is attempting to comfort a shocked patrol. Curly and Oaktuft look shellshocked, eyes blown wide.

"What's going on?"

"The avalanche- it-" Curly's breath hitches. "We got lucky. We- we're fine. But- stars, Nick."

Wormshade stares at her. "What happened to him?"

"Oh, Wormshade," Curly breathes. "He got trapped. The snow caught him before we could get him out of the way."

Oaktuft and Curly lead the four to a ledge, where there is a pile of snow and one snow covered, gray limb sticking out of the pile. Wormshade stops breathing next to her.

--

Scarcely a week later, tragedy strikes again. They're still trying to go back to normal, and then Scorchstar doesn't return from her walks.

Goldenflare turns to her. "She's been so distant lately. I don't know where she is or what she might be doing."

"Send a patrol out to find her," Silverbelly says. "I have to meet Lakelily at the border, we're trading some juniper for thyme. I'll keep a look out for her there."

"Thank you," Goldenflare says.

And when she returns, a small group of cats are huddled around a bloodied brown body in the clearing, and Silverbelly knows what's just happened.

--

"Are you ready?" She asks.

Goldenflare stiffly nods. His tail nervously lashes from the sides.

"You'll do fine," she says.

"I'm not ready," he whispers. "I keep getting cats hurt."

"Is this about Morningbloom?"

He falls silent, and she has her answer.

"I couldn't protect Nettlestem, or Sunwish, or Scorchstar. I couldn't even protect my mate. How am I meant to protect a whole clan's worth of cats?"

"None of those events were your fault," Silverbelly briskly says. "You know exactly how they all died. Nettlestem was ambushed by a rogue on a peaceful walk. Sunwish was murdered. Scorchstar was mauled by dogs. Stop blaming yourself for things that are out of your control."

He stares at her. "When did you get so smart?"

"I think parenthood had something to do with it," she snorts. "Dip your muzzle in the water and sleep will come. You'll wake up in Silverpelt."

"How do I know they'll accept me?"

"You won't."

--

Morningbloom is the first. (Stars, make him a mess for the rest of the ceremony, why don't you?)

"With this life, I give you sympathy," Morningbloom chokes out. Her eyes are round with longing and grief. "Use it to understand, from the strongest warrior to the youngest kit to the oldest elder."

Goldenflare stares at her, eyes glossy with unshed tears.

"It's not your fault," she whispers. "It's never been your fault."

Silverbelly feels like she's intruding on such a moment.

She steps back into the crowd, and Goldenflare takes one step after her then stops, staring at the star speckled ground. His eyes clench shut as the next cat walks to him.

Other cats walk up to him. Nettlestem, Wildfang, Nick. Tawnyash and Rum Tum Tugger are a surprising addition. Breezeshadow approaches, her starlit eyes as kind as ever.

Finally, Scorchstar steps forward. "I've had many regrets in my leadership. Making you my deputy was not one of them."

Goldenflare stares at her, murmurs something Silverbelly can't quite make out. Scorchstar nods once, a tiny movement she would have missed if she wasn't looking closely.

"With this life, I give you leadership during the darkest times. Persist, even when tragedy strikes. Never falter, never give up. You have a duty to these cats."

Goldenstar jolts as her muzzle rests on his head.

"Your old life is no more," Scorchstar says. "It's your duty to guard Fallenclan, now. Use your new power wisely."

Morningbloom breaks the careful silence with a yowl. "Goldenstar! Goldenstar!"

The rest of the star speckled cats chime in, and Silverbelly awakes in the glow cave.

--

"Silverbelly?"

She turns at the noise. Stormkit is staring at her, with his giant copper eyes.

"Yes?" She sets down her pile of poppy seeds on a leaf. "Can I help you?"

"I don't wanna be a warrior. Is that bad?"

She's taken aback by his wavering tone. "No, honey, of course not."

"It's just that-" he stiffly stops in the middle of his sentence. "Hailkit and Goosekit and Moonkit all wannna be warriors but I like plants and fixing scrapes and cuts. I like learning about the cool stuff you do. I don't wanna hurt cats, I want to help them!"

She listens sympathetically. She had her own doubts at his age. All anyone her age talked about were fighting moves or catching cool birds, and she just liked the clovers that grew in the leader's den.

"You could be my apprentice," she says. "I could teach you everything I know about herbs and plants and the stars."

"Really?" Stormkit's eyes grow round.

"Really," she purrs. "You'd be great at it, you're already such a big help."

Privately, there's another reason she goes to Goldenstar and tells him she's chosen Stormkit to be her first apprentice.

--

Since Stormpaw has become her apprentice, the brief flashes of the future that the stars bless her with have become more vivid. More real.

She wants to think it's a good thing, that she's becoming more in tune with her ancestors and the mystifying words they give her. In reality, she feels like she's hardly sleeping.

When she wakes up, there is moss scattered over her den. Her first instinct is to find Stormpaw, and he's one nest over, nestled under the rock that she puts lungwort on.

He's taken to his apprenticeship like eagles to the sky. He loves the herbs, the smells don't bother him, and Toro frequently has to groom leaves out of his pelt. He retains everything she tells him, and always makes sure the herbs are organized in just the way she likes them.

One day, this den will be his. He can organize the herbs however he'd like, and he can sleep under the lichen instead of under a mossy rock.

She tucks her head over her paws and drifts back to sleep.

--

"This is Holly," Ivyleaf says. "Her twoleg was so awful to her, and she's had a bad fright. She's flinchy, and doesn't react well to sudden noise."

Silverbelly nods. "Alright. Stormpaw, I have a job for you."

Stormpaw perks up, a little piece of mallow tumbling from his fur. "Yeah?"

"Go tell your siblings to play quietly. Holly's new and the loud noise scares her."

Stormpaw dutifully nods. "Do you want me to bring her thyme?"

"If you'd like," Silverbelly says. "Just not too much."

Stormpaw scoops up a stalk of thyme and scrambles away.

"He's so gentle," Ivyleaf muses. "You chose your apprentice well."

"I would hope so," Silverbelly laughs. "I can't quite have a reckless medicine cat. Could you imagine Flypaw in here?"

Ivyleaf shivers. "No thank you. Thanks, Silverbelly."

Silverbelly watches her leave.

--

"This is Moxie," Hailpaw proclaims. "Moxie, this is Oaktuft. She used to be a house cat but now she's a warrior and she's way better at running than you are."

Oaktuft scoffs. "Yeah, we'll see. Race me later?"

Moxie hums. "Sure."

(Moxie, without doubt, kicks his ass. Silverbelly watches as Oaktuft gracelessly falls in love with Moxie from that alone.)

--

"And, that should do it," Stormpaw says. "Tell me or Silverbelly if it starts feeling hot. We'll change out the poultice twice a day, at sunrise then sunset. Okay?"

Celia blinks at him. "Uh, okay."

Stormpaw, unfortunately, has a habit of speaking too fast for anyone to catch up with. And tends to run into tangents about this plant or the other.

When he runs off to go check on Robinkit, Silverbelly turns back to Celia. "Sorry about him. He gets excited."

"No, it's fine," he laughs. "Finch used to be like that too. Runs off into tangents about this interesting berry she found, or a shiny rock from a garden. I heard the important parts. Tell you if it's hot, change it twice a day."

"Bingo," she says.

--

"Lichenstripe, meet Silverbelly. Silverbelly, meet Lichenstripe."

"I remember you," Silverbelly says, to the apparent shock of Oaktuft. "You're the medicine cat of Shallowclan. Is everything alright?"

"Eh," Lichenstripe hums. "Long story short, I'm out of a home and I'm staying here now. If that's okay with you," he hastily adds.

"Yeah, sure," she hums. "Make yourself comfortable."

(Later, she learns that Lichenstripe had a vision of one of the newly born kits, Violetkit. She doesn't ask much about it, but it's clear from the twitching of his tail and the way his claws anxiously work at the moss of his nest that it wasn't a very good one.)

--

"Feels good," Celia hums. "Anyway, you're smart, Silverbelly. What are the chances Goldenstar would agree to a one on one patrol with me?"

Silverbelly gawks. Stormpaw gracelessly trips over a rock. Holly snorts.

"Um," she says. "Next to nothing."

"That's still something!" Celia turns from the den and struts into the clearing. He makes a beeline for Goldenstar, and Silverbelly watches in shock as he walks out of camp with him.

"I give up," she quietly says. "You see that, Stormpaw? Don't do that. If you ever decide you want a mate, don't do what Celia just did."

"But it worked?"

--

Silverbelly casually observes Oaktuft's crush.

Applebranch and Honeygleam are suffocating from laughter next to her. Dawnshine is trying, and failing, to not snort.

"He's hopeless," Maplethorn mutters. "Give up while you can, Oaktuft. She's too good for you."

--

Silverbelly has taken Stormpaw out collecting herbs.

"Did you find those daisies yet?" Silverbelly calls.

"Yeah, they're right over here," Stormpaw replies. And then, he goes shudderingly still.

Smells of the stars waft over Silverbelly, but she doesn't interrupt Stormpaw. He could be recieving an important vision.

She carefully plucks away the daisies, and he seems to bounce back.

"Woah," he says. "Is this what getting high on catmint feels like?"

"Not really," Silverbelly winces. Why did she just tell her apprentice that she knew what getting high on catmint felt like.

"It was weird. It was like I was falling."

--

"Mudsplash! Flyspots!"

Flyspots rushes down to them. Mudsplash is close behind, but she stumbles and her brother pulls ahead.

"Oh, you're warriors, I'm so proud," she whispers, and makes the selective choice to embarass her kits. She dives forward to lick Flyspots' head, and he topples backwards.

"Mom, mom please!"

"Resistance is futile," Applebranch snorts. "Great job, kid."

"I'm not a kid anymore," Flyspots declares. "I'm a warrior."

"You'll always be a kid to me," Applebranch laughs.

"Yeah, because you're old," Mudsplash quips.

Silverbelly jolts, and moves to stand next to Applebranch, who is mock sniffling. "How could you?"

Flyspots looks at them, eyes wide. "No, mama, I didn't mean it. You're not old."

"Yeah, great job, Flyspots," Mudsplash mockingly scowls. "You made her cry."

"You're not old, mama, I swear."

"Swear on a moon of dawn patrols?" Applebranch slyly peeks up.

"On a moon of dawn patrols, you're not old," he says. Then he pauses, seemingly realizing what he's just said. "Fuck."

--

"I'm expecting, again," Applebranch says. Then she blinks. "Lichenstripe said so, at least."

Stormpaw, who was watching, promptly squeals. "Silverbelly! Silverbelly! Can I help?"

"I don't see why not," she hums. "Lichenstripe will probably deliver the kits, since my nerves got so bad last time. Sunwish had to physically send me out of the den."

"You can be my personal assistant," Applebranch says. "You can shove raspberries and borage down my throat, like this one did last time." She places a paw on Silverbelly's shoulder

She sighs. "I do it to all the queens."

"Mostly me," Applebranch replies.

(When Applebranch tells Flyspots the news, he screams into his nest, and then turns around like nothing just happened and says, "That's great mom!")

--

"Ivyleaf's gone," Oaktuft mumbles.

"What?" Otterslip stares. "She can't be gone. She's not gone."

"There was an eagle," Moxie tries. "Nothing could have been done."

Otterslip falls silent, then whips around and runs off. Silverbelly feels a pang of pity in her heart.

So maybe that's why she doesn't stop him, when they finally find her body and bring it back to camp. Maybe that's why she doesn't stop him as he sobs over her body, even though she really needs to prepare it for burial.

--

Moxie and Oaktuft are mates. Dawnshine begrudgingly takes his moon of dawn patrols and complains to Robinpaw, who complains to Stormpaw, who complains to her. And that's how she finds out.

"Maybe he shouldn't place bets he can't win," Stormpaw thoughtfully says.

"He's never been a good better," Silverbelly snorts. "Maybe this one will finally teach him his lesson."

--

"Thanks, Lichenstripe, I really appreciate it," she says. "Send a patrol for us if we're needed."

Lichenstripe nods, and waves them off. He's not coming for two reasons. One, because Shallowclan would probably get pissed if they knew he was still with the clans, and two, there was something Silverbelly wanted to do tonight.

She meets up with Lakelily, who smiles and asks how she's been. Then, they intersect with Sandcrash and Pearlnose, and finally bump into Sunpetal and Stonepaw, who falls into easy conversation with Stormpaw, like they always do.

"So," Sunpetal glances towards their chatting apprentices. "Stormpaw's getting his name today, right?"

Silverbelly nods. "I'm not sure what I'll name him quite yet. Perhaps Sunwish will offer her guidance?"

Sunpetal hums. "Maybe."

Sunpetal was young. 36 moons, and was already the senior medicine cat of her clan.

"We're having a bit of trouble in the clan," she says. "Thornstar is extremely ill and Snowviper is no better. I fear we'll be leaderless in a moon."

"So, you want Dancingfrost to give you some guidance?" Sandcrash asks. "Thornstar's been sick for moons, hasn't he?"

Sunpetal blearily nods. "Snowviper was fine before, but it came out of nowhere and it hit her hard. She can hardly get out of her nest. Her mate died last evening, that hasn't been helping."

"I'm sorry," Pearlnose says. "I lost an elder to greencough last week. She was old, but it didn't hurt any less."

Sandcrash nods. "I lost Billowkit to kittencough."

The patrol murmurs their apologies.

"How's the rest of the litter?" Pearlnose asks.

"They're alright," Sandcrash murmurs. "Firekit and Poppykit were too young to understand. Swansplash was really upset, but she knew nothing could be done."

Sandcrash had a mate and kits. Not every medicine cat took a mate, but he did. Swansplash was lovely, a long furred molly with bright purple eyes. Pearlnose also had a mate, a cat named Rosebriar. Despite her name, she was widely known as the best fighter in the clans.

Lakelily was 72 moons, but it didn't look like he'd ever take a mate. Sunpetal had offhandedly mentioned a cat named Autumn.

"And Sunpetal," Pearlnose says. "Thornstar is old. He's been leader since before most of us were born. It's probably his time."

"But Snowviper..." Sunpetal trails off. "She's getting worse by the day. I'm afraid she'll be gone soon."

Silverbelly hums. "Wasn't there a situation like that in ArchClan before?"

Sandcrash hums. "Yes, I think so. Starclan sent Whisperingleaf a sign that time, I'd have to ask him."

Before Silverbelly knows it, they're at the mouth of the cave. Stonepaw and Stormpaw's chatter abruptly stops.

"Stormpaw," she calls. "Step forward."

Stormpaw's copper eyes shine bright.

"Dip your nose in the water, and Starclan will call you," she instructs. She glances back at Lakelily to make sure she's doing this right, and he nods.

She settles down, and drifts awake, into a starry hill. Her breath leaves her when she sees Sunwish standing before her.

"Welcome, Stormpaw," she kindly says. "Silverbelly's trained you well."

She sees Wildfang and Breezeshadow standing, watching closely but not interfering.

"I do wish I could have met you," Sunwish sighs. "Maybe in another life. Now, step forward."

Stormpaw carefully steps forward.

"Stormpaw, do you promise to heal and protect your clan?"

"I do," he says. "I promise."

"Then, by the power vested in me, I name you Stormsight. We honor your vigilance and enthusiasm."

Sunwish steps away, and Silverbelly shouts, "Stormsight!"

The other medicine cats join her. Stormsight stares at her, grinning brightly, and Silverbelly grins back.

Stormsight suddenly stops. The sky, previously alight with stars, goes black.

The other medicine cats are deathly still. Stormsight himself isn't moving. Like time has stopped.

Silverbelly looks around herself, shaking as she peers into the pool of water.

A rock drops into it, knocking some water away from the rocks and onto the shore. It shines red as it lands on her paws.

She looks behind her, willing someone who is better at this to help her. Lakelily, Sandcrash, Pearlnose?

They aren't there.

Shaking, she turns back around, and jumps. Stormsight has vanished.

Those fucking rocks.

It's the same dream, of the rocks. The blood trails from one to the next in a single line, and then it abruptly stops.

She stares at the rock. One is brown, the next is a lighter shade. The final rock could barely constitue for brown, it's more orange than anything.

A scream travels behind her, followed closely by a shattering crack. She wants to turn around, but it's like her paws are frozen in place.

Silverbelly screams.

And then she wakes up.

-🍭 (society if tumblr would stop eating my asks)

(first part here)

HOLY SHIT HOLY SHIT HOLY SHIT?????? LOLLIPOP MY JAW FUCKING DROPPED I AM CRYING REAL LIFE TEARS. your writing is absolutely INSANE. so vivid and i LOVE your worldbuilding and the little hints to other stuff going on??????? AHHHH THIS IS SO GOOD IM LOSING MY MIND

Lichenstripe having a vision of Violetkit holy shit. the MOXIEOAK. Silverbelly's vision. holy fuck i am losing my mind. correct me if im wrong but. the rocks. Scorchstar and Otterslip. but who is the third rock i am chewing and biting auhghghhgh

[rippleclan]

RippleClan: Moon 10

Parsley and Scrubmask hang out.

[Image ID: Parsley and Scrubmask face each other. Under Parsley, it reads + PLATONIC LIKE: SCRUBMASK. Under Scrubmask, it says + PLATONIC LIKE: PARSLEY.]

“So this is…” Parsley asked as Scrubmask placed a red-brown square the size of Parsley’s paw in front of her.

“We call it pemmican,” Scrubmask explained. She sat politely next to Parsley’s nest, situated in a cozy corner of the medicine den. “Fennelspot is visiting StarClan’s Shrine tonight, and pemmican will give him enough energy for the journey and give the Clan a reliable source of food while prey returns to the territory.”

“I’m not one to insult culture,” Parsley chuckled awkwardly, poking the square, “but this looks like blood-stained tree bark.”

“Carnationpaw made it from a hare,” Scrubmask said. “You dry meat and berries, soak it in the animal’s fat, and it hardens into these blocks. I think. I don’t know, we don’t have an artisan.”

“I suppose I’ll try it,” Parsley groaned, sniffing the pemmican. She nibbled on the edge of the bar. “Huh. Ms. Scrubmask, what do you suppose that sharp flavor is?”

“Sweetness,” Scrubmask guessed. “I don’t know. I can’t taste sweet things.”

“Well, you are quite clever in making this!” Parsley said. 

“I didn’t have a paw in it,” Scrubmask sighed, staring out of the den. “Cooking seems like a waste of time to me.”

“Well I would have to politely disagree!” Parsley hummed. She took another bite of the pemmican and licked her lips. Scrubmask’s eyes drifted to Parsley’s cobweb-wrapped tail. The bleeding had stopped, thankfully, but most of the gray fur was hidden behind Fennelspot’s poultices and mixtures.

“How are you recovering?” Scrubmask asked. Parsley swallowed her pemmican and followed Scrubmask’s gaze. 

“It hurts to move it too much,” Parsley admitted. “I’m mighty grateful you and your friends brought me here. I couldn’t have treated it myself.”

“Hopefully you’ll recover soon and be on your way,” Scrubmask mumbled.

“Well, dear,” Parsley chuckled, placing her paw over Scrubmask’s, “I’ve been talking to Ms. Downstar. She’s a very nice molly, I must say. We got to talking about what I would do when I’m recovered and, well… I was wondering if I could join your little group. Officially, I mean.” Scrubmask’s droopy ears perked up.

“Do you mean that?” Scrubmask asked.

“I wouldn’t say it if I didn’t,” Parsley purred. “Your leader told me how she wants to welcome more cats outside your little Clans into RippleClan, be a bit more open, a bit more diverse, all good things. I’m getting up there in moons, and I don’t want to fight off dogs and rats in a barn the rest of my days. I think I would like joining you on those patrols of yours.” For the first time since Parsley met the gloomy warrior, Scrubmask purred.

“That’s a good idea,” Scrubmask hummed. Parsley purred and munched on her sweet meal.

(Parsley: 104, female, warrior, righteous, good speaker)

(Scrubmask: 27, female, warrior, gloomy, fast runner, good hunter)

Duskkit sneaks out of camp and brings back some juniper after she gets stuck in a bush.

[Image ID: Duskkit has juniper berries tucked behind her ear. Underneath her, it reads + ACCESSORY: JUNIPER BERRIES]

---

“How could she get around you?” Downstar yowled as she paced around Oilstripe in the dim light of the crescent moon. The young historian squirmed under her leader’s furious eyes.

“I’m sorry!” Oilstripe groaned. “I stepped away for a few seconds to get Carnationpaw, and Duskkit was running out of camp before we got back to the exit! I’ve been guarding camp all night, how was I supposed to know Duskkit planned a breakout?”

“You still let her disappear,” Downstar hissed. “If she gets hurt out there, it’s on your paws, Oilstripe!” Oilstripe shrunk, lowering her head. Carnationpaw rubbed against Downstar.

“Downstar, even Puddlespeckle is out looking for Duskkit,” Carnationpaw cooed. “She wouldn’t go far. She’ll be okay.” Downstar groaned and marched over to Parsley by the nursery. The new addition to the group had volunteered to watch over the remaining kits while the rest of RippleClan scoured the territory. Rustshade’s litter were old enough to behave themselves and stay in their nests, but as for Downstar’s little troublemakers…

“We could help look for Duskkit!” Graykit suggested, playing leap-frog over Parsley’s wounded tail. Her adult eye color had taken over her baby-blues faster than anyone else in her litter, showing off a brilliant amber color. Those amber eyes screamed of mischief as Graykit eyed the exit.

“Duskkit is in enough trouble as is,” Downstar huffed.

“But we know Duskkit!” Halibutkit huffed from his cozy spot at Parsley’s paws. From the way his eyes gleamed, he seemed destined to have the same eye color as Graykit, adding another factor of confusion as to who was who. “We know where she would go!”

“You don’t know the territory,” Downstar reminded her son. A dark shape slunk in the corner of Downstar’s eye. “Shadowkit, you get back here right now!”

“You never let us have any fun,” Shadowkit whined. The stocky tom marched back to his littermates, dragging his paws in the sand.

“No one else is leaving camp!” Downstar groaned. “StarClan, you’re going to take one of my lives at this rate.”

“Mom, look what I got!” a tiny, proud voice called from the entrance to camp. Downstar spun around. Duskkit trotted back into camp with something tucked behind her ear. She acted like she had done nothing wrong. Oilstripe and Carnationpaw gawked at the black molly as she strolled toward the nursery.

“Duskkit, where have you been?” Downstar yowled. She raced to her daughter’s side and scooped her close. Graykit stepped on Parsley’s tail as she scurried up to the family reunion. Parsley yelped as the rest of the litter swarmed Duskkit.

“I went exploring!” Duskkit chirped. “It was great!”

“You are in so much trouble,” Downstar growled, pressing her nose into Duskkit’s fur. “You aren’t allowed to leave camp!”

“I know,” Duskkit chuckled. “That’s why I waited until Oilstripe looked away!”

“This is not my fault,” Oilstripe huffed.

“What did you see?” Halibutkit asked.

“Did you run into any cougars?” Graykit gasped.

“What’s that?” Shadowkit asked, staring at Duskkit’s ear. A small lump of juniper berries nestled into Duskkit’s fur.

“I was exploring the forest, and I ran into a bush!” Duskkit said, showing off the burrs and leaf-buds stuck in her fur. “I was really stuck in there, but then the black kittypet showed up and got me out!”

“A kittypet?” Downstar and Graykit said at the same time, albeit with drastically different tones.

“He had dark fur, like me!” Duskkit explained. “I got out and he told me to go home. I didn’t want to, but I heard Scrubmask yelling for me. I didn’t want her to carry me back like a kit! So I came home early.”

“And with a prize!” Shadowkit cheered, sniffing the berries stuck in Duskkit’s fur.

“I’m gonna keep them,” Duskkit declared. She showed off the berries in the faint moonlight.

“Duskkit, they’ll rot on your head,” Downstar sighed. She reached down to pull the berries out, but Duskkit nipped her paws and slipped out.

“No!” Duskkit whined. She ran toward the nursery, screaming all the way back. Her littermates yowled incoherently as they ran after Duskkit. Downstar groaned and slumped into the sand.

“Carnationpaw, go find our Clanmates,” she groaned. Downstar closed her eyes as her children rampaged through the nursery. She would deal with that in a minute. She could practically feel the stress eating at her first life. 

Why was he roaming the territory?

(Downstar: 69, female, leader, adventurous, trusted advisor, very clever)

(Oilstripe: 14, female, historian, charismatic, ghost sight)

(Carnationpaw: 12, female, caretaker apprentice, compassionate, splashes in puddles)

(Graykit: 2, female, kit, impulsive, careful listener)

(Parsley: 104, female, warrior, righteous, good speaker)

(Shadowkit: 2, male, kit, troublesome, careful listener)

(Halibutkit: 2, male, kit, impulsive, quick witted)

(Duskkit: 2, female, kit, troublesome, quick witted)

[fan-dot]

two steps beyond the veil

The point is, she’s not entirely certain she is confident in any of this at all. She also might be a little too late into it to turn back, but that’s a lesser problem to the fact that she wants to talk to her sister more than she has even a basic essence of common sense. The candles are lit, incense flowing, and so she will drive on, heedless.

DannyMay 2023: Day 14 (Séance)

You see, the issue with a séance is that Star has no fucking idea what she is doing. Oh, sure, the dodgy ‘magick’ manual from the year 1973 with the peeling blue cover and terrible cheap gold foil has step by step instructions, but it also likes to put the letter k at the end of anything and everything, so she isn’t entirely certain she trusts it. Oh, and the shop she got it from is the kind that is permanently swathed in incense smoke so thick that it triggers her latent asthma every time she goes in. And Star likes incense! 

The point is, she’s not entirely certain she is confident in any of this at all . 

She also might be a little too late into it to turn back, but that’s a lesser problem to the fact that she wants to talk to her sister more than she has even a basic essence of common sense. The candles are lit, incense flowing, and so she will drive on, heedless. 

There’s a couple different ways you can conduct a séance, Star found through her questionable research. Most of them are through tools like a Ouija board or talking box, or through people like mediums and trained spiritualists. She found a ritual, though, written on handmade pressed paper and in purple ink. She found it tucked in the back of one of the more questionable of the books she had found, tucked like a bookmark that was forgotten and a bit of ink smeared three quarters of the way down, left side. 

Star went with it. 

She breathes out, slow and low as she burns the branch of juniper, as she lets the smoke rise up and up and up. There’s an apple, cut, an offering (immortality). There are hazel nuts, crushed (wisdom) (water from a stone) (finding what was lost, what is wanted, water of life, water of death, water of endings and beginnings, primordial soup). A branch of alder, shorn, triad cuts driven in, white wood bled red. Yew berries, cooked and split (death prepared). A strand of hair (the focus, the center, the one called from beyond).

She sets it all ablaze in a pot of iron, lets the juniper branch wave, smoke curling about her (about them). The flame flickers in her eyes as she mumbles the words, stumbled and unsure in her pronunciation, even practicing. 

The fire dies down, ash filling the iron pot (it is snow, winter of life, the season of death and renewal). She scoops out the ash and smears it on her forehead, behind her ears, a cross on her chest, and the slightest dab to her tongue. It is bitter and awful and she wants to spit it out but she doesn’t, carefully placing a small amount on her nose, on her eyelids, across the backs of her palms. She paints her fingertips in it and she breathes, smoke and ash and burning things.

Star smears a candle in the ash, tall and flickering and carved as she was told to do, and she sets it aflame. She watches the smoke, watches it dancing and weaving and then go utterly, eerily, entirely still.

She stares.

The flame stays frozen, barely even a flicker. 

“Rainbow?” she asks, voice shaking. “Rain, are you there?”

The flame veers to the left, a yes according to the signs Star set up and she covers her mouth (ash, smoke, death, a chance, a hope). It worked. It worked.

“Rainbow,” she croaks behind her hand. “Rainbow, you’re really here?”

There’s a sharper flicker to the left, almost annoyed, and Star chokes back a sob, and she’s here, she’s here, her sister is here.

“If we shared a room when we were nine, move to maybe,” she says, shaky, and the instructions warned her that there may be others pretending, others taking advantage of the gate, and that she needs to check. 

The flame returns to center and stays still. It’s her. It’s Rainbow. 

“Oh my god,” she says, breathless. “Oh my god.” 

The flame flickers at her in response, smokeless, clean. 

“Are you a ghost, now?” she asks, because she has to, because she needs to know. 

It drifts to yes, then to no, then to maybe. 

“I don’t understand,” she says, trying to figure out how to ask in a way that makes more sense, head spinning. “Are you a ghost now?” 

A pause, and then it drifts to yes. 

“Were- you not a ghost until recently?” she tries, chest tight.

It stays at yes. It stays at yes and Star pulls in a breath, tries to think. Her sister is here, her sister is dead, but she’s here, somehow, and she needs her brain to work, to ask the important questions, to figure out if she can see her again.

“So you became a ghost recently but you’re a ghost now,” she says. 

It flickers more strongly at yes.

“Okay,” she says, soft. “A-after the séance, can you come see me?” 

It slowly shifts to maybe. 

“Okay,” she says again, softer. “Okay. Please come see me. I miss you.” 

The flame flickers to yes and Star begins to cry for real, ash bleeding off her eyelids and forcing them shut. She buries her face in her hands, a desperate, cracking sob dragging out of her ribcage and her sister. Her sister. Her sister .

When she wipes away the ash enough to see, the flame is flickering again merrily, the odd energy in the room gone. 

She stares, wide-eyed, wet-eyed, but looks down at her hands, black and gray with soot and ash. Star swallows hard and bites down the grief because Rainbow is a ghost, Rainbow can and will come back and see her. It’s okay. 

She’ll see her again. 

She will.

[juniperrivers]

I Can Swem || Juniper & Dave

TIMING: Current. LOCATION: A cove outlet.  PARTIES: @juniperrivers​ @seizethecarpe​ SUMMARY: Juniper runs into Dave while going out for a swim. She’s ecstatic at there being another selkie in White Crest that’s not her aunt. They decide to go for a little swim. 

Juniper’s aunt’s words are static, scattered and worried, ringing in the back of her head as she made her way towards the beach. ‘Not without me,’ the older woman had said. It was less of an instruction, more of a demand. Still, the call of the ocean was loud, loud enough to drown out any worries that might have crept into her underbelly. Her skin laid neatly in her backpack, perhaps the only thing she treated with care. She navigated the uneven terrain as she made her way to a separate part of the beach that was less frequented by humans, and offered her a sense of security more than a cove would, especially these days. The rocks underneath her feet gave way with her weight as she struggled to keep upright, the palms of her hands slapping against the surfaces as she skidded down the small slope. Out of breath as she finally reached the private beach, small hill facings on either side, she began to take off her backpack. Not before she caught sight of somebody. How could that be? She had gone so far. She watched them curiously before she let out a loud shriek. Her legs carried her forward without much thought, up until she realized she had dropped her backpack onto the ground. She spun around quickly to scoop it up, holding it to her chest as she ran over the rocky surface to the man who was doing just as she had come to do; swim. “Hey! Hey!” Juniper screamed excitedly as she approached him, one hand above her head waving, “Omigosh, I’ve never seen anyone other than me, and well, my aunt! And my parents, but they’re gone--” Juniper stared wide-eyed at the stranger, her grin only growing wilder by the second. 

Dave’s stomach rumbled as he peeled off the layers of his clothes, carefully folding them into his bag before tucked it out of sight under the mini dock, pinned in place by some of the larger rocks he’d found over the past few months and brought over here for this purpose. Wind whipped around him as Dave’s skin became more and more slimy. He lowered himself down into the water before it became too slippy to stand, sliding his fingers over his skin to check that nothing was stuck on the inside before slowly beginning to pull it over his legs, seamlessly beginning the transition to seal as he slid the skin further and further up his body. Which was when he heard a human voice. Dave cursed, about to submerge himself fully to hide as she waved, when he made out a word or two of what she was yelling. Dave squinted, trying to made out her words, but still sank a little lower in the turbid water to conceal the skin all the same. “Gonna need you to speak up. I don’t hear so good,” he replied gruffly. This entire beach smelled like seal, fish, and a hell of a lot of it. He was upwind of her, unable to catch her scent. “Do I know you?”

“What did you say?” Juniper called back, eyebrows knit together as she watched him sink further into the water. She definitely hadn’t mistaken, he was like her! Juniper stepped closer to the water, her index finger outstretched to indicate towards his lower half that was submerged underneath the water. “I don’t know you, you don’t know me!” Juniper spoke loudly, taking a step further towards the water so that her shoe became wet. “I’m like you though, I saw you--” She looked over her shoulder to make sure nobody followed her. She tightened her grip on her backpack and looked down. Whether or not her next action was a mistake, she couldn’t be sure. She unzipped her backpack and grabbed her skin, pulling it up just enough for him to see. “I’m like you!” Juniper said again, the excitement rising back in her voice. “Isn’t that cool?” She watched the man in wonderment. “Like I said, I only know about my aunt, which--” She shrugged, “she doesn’t like it when I go swimming by myself, but that's not my problem.” Juniper shook her head with a sigh before she pointed back towards her skin, shoving it back into her bag. “I won’t tell anyone, I swear!” 

Dave glared at her as she came closer, moving deeper into the water. He understood her this time, as she insisted they were alike. He shifted slightly, peeling the skin off his legs so he could stand, dressed in nothing but a thick layer of slime. She pulled her skin - a skin - out of her backpack, holding it up clearly for him to look it over. He breathed in deeply through his nose. He could smell the salty, seaweed, fishy seal scent on her, but without getting closer, it wasn’t possible to tell whether that was just the seal pelt she carried with her, perhaps freshly stolen or freshly cut from someone. Dave opened his mouth, baring his 1.5 inch canines and jagged teeth in a threat display, warning her not to come closer just yet. “Prove it. Show me your teeth or your slime.”

The man’s expression and stance were lost on Juniper. She was still excited, and naively so about somebody like her out in the open, despite the frigid temperatures. She had heard about humans stealing skins, but they couldn’t wear them, not according to her aunt. Juniper blinked at him as he bared his teeth, the canines clipping over his lips. She pointed at them, her excitement only growing. The excitement that came over her did just what he had wanted. A smear of slime dripped from her underarm and she quickly took off her jacket, tossing it to the ground. Juniper wiped her hand alongside her arm and held it up for his examination. “See! I’m not lying! And I would loo-o-o-ve to show you my teeth, but my aunt has this weird thing on them, so I can’t show you, mostly because those things she made me put in my mouth, the sort of hurt so I didn’t like them and I kept forgetting to put them in,” without taking a breath, Juniper continues as loud as she can bare, rapidly signing as she speaks, “and so one time I saw this boy and he saw them and he went crying to his mom and then my aunt had to explain I was wearing my Halloween costume early, but it was like MARCH!” Juniper let out a breath and sighed, wiping her hand onto her jeans. 

Dave looked at the slime, his shoulders dropped, and he stopped baring his teeth as much. He opened his mouth to apologise for his rapid response when Juniper’s words began to flood out of her like a dam had broken. He blinked, curiously. She was talking about something that could either be a full glamour, or a tooth guard with a small amount glamour like his. Or hell, something else entirely. But almost as fast as he’d had the damn thought she was rattling about some crying child and halloween and Dave needed to pause to understand what the hell she was saying. Some kid has seen her teeth, maybe? “Got it. Hell, sorry kid. You can never be too careful about this shit.” He scooped down to pick up his skin out of the water, idly picking seaweed out from between the folds. “I’ve Dave,” He said, looking back up at her. “Were you about to go for a swim?”

Juniper had a fairly significant fight or flight response, and though the human world was far different in understanding when one should run, manipulation was entirely unheard of for her. Sea creatures weren’t the type to master such a feat. Her aunt had warned her about speaking to strangers, but the very fact that this man, now called Dave, was like her? It wiped the slate clean of any worry that Juniper should feel. She blinked at him, her smile only growing in size as he gave her his name. “Dave? I’m Juniper. Like the berry!” She looked out towards the water, then back to her skin which was visible from her bag. “Yes, actually!” She hadn’t gotten to go for a lengthy swim in quite some time, her aunt always worried, always rushing her back in when the waves got too rough, when there was the threat of somebody seeing. “Do you want to swim together?” She asked, her eyes lighting up at the prospect of having a buddy other than her aunt. 

“Juniper,” Dave repeated back, to make sure he heard it right. When she asked him to swim together, he paused. Even in the water, he had no where near the energy of a young pup, and his hunts for food were careful and methodical… On the other hand, when the hell was the last time he’d swum with a person rather than a regular seal? The corner of his lips turned up. “Sure,” he said, pointing out where he’d hidden his bag under the dock so she could hide hers there as well. Dave breathed in carefully, looking around, but this time he was certain no one was around. Sinking back into the water, he wrapped the pelt around his legs and waist, the slime fusing his body into something different and familiar as anything else. He pulled the head of his pelt over his own head, his body stretching to accommodate it like a cat stretching into a ray of sunlight. All at once, he was long and agile, wriggling into the water until he was no longer on the rocks. After a couple of loops, he stuck his head above the water, looking around for Juniper. 

Juniper blinked at him, waiting for a response. When he finally gave her his answer, she let out a shriek of joy and dropped her backpack to the ground. Juniper kicked off her shoes, pulling her sweater over her head. She struggled for a moment to get it from over her ears, but once it was off, she noticed that Dave was no longer on the shore. After completely undressing, she moved towards the water, her backpack now securely tucked in the same area where Dave’s belongings were. She pulled her skin over her, easing into the way her anxieties faded into the background-- this was where she was at her most familiar, at her safest. She knew that wasn’t absolutely true, but to her, it was. After the skin had fused to her skin, she slipped underneath  the water, finding Dave a few feet from the shore. She ducked back underneath, gliding beneath Dave and deeper into the water. 

Dave circled in the shallows until Juniper was ready. For all the sharpness and clarity the land had, it was nothing compared to the vivacious world underwater. Without gravity holding the world down, there was freedom for there to be colour and movement in every direction. Colours he could hardly see in his human form. Small schools of fish darted around him, safe in the knowledge that they were far too small to be targeted by him. He didn’t have to wait long for the vibrations in the water that told him Juniper was sliding into the water. He turned in a wide arc as she swam underneath him, surfacing for a quick breath before chasing her deeper into waters, racing up alongside her to head her to where he’d been about to find his meal. The ocean melted every human concern away, until it was just him, the water, and the absurdly playful ringed seal swimming with him. 

Every time Juniper slipped back into the water, she felt at home. She had spent so many years of her life as a seal, and when she had been forced to assume the human life-- though, for her own good her aunt had assured her, it felt foreign, unreal. Assimilating into a culture she knew nothing about was still proving to be difficult-- but despite her rambunctious nature, she was a quick learner. Though, it only seemed to be in things that she cared about getting to know. Juniper swam alongside Dave, his form much longer and agile than her own, but she had no issue in keeping up. The way the water felt-- almost as if it were her skin instead of the one she protected so heavily. The school of fish darted away from them as they swam deeper, deeper into the water. 

The small seal breached only in the moments in which she was in need of oxygen, and it was possibly hours later that they came to the shore, the brightness of the swim evident in the apples of her cheeks as she began to slip out of her skin, assuming her identity as the 18 year old Juniper Rivers. It wasn’t until she was fully clothed, tucking her skin back into her bag that she noticed the time blinking up at her from her phone. “Oh, oh no!” Juniper exclaimed to her companion, pulling her backpack to her chest, “I’m going to be in so much trouble! Thanks for the swim!” She turned back around just before leaving, “we’re friends now by the way!” 

[silvanils]

Stranded

Written for a TES Tuesday prompt given by Alexis in the @nirnwrote​​ discord: Syrus - sand, thunderstorm, sunburn. 

I realized I haven’t written all three siblings interacting yet, and that needed remedied as much as the sunburn one of them has in this fic. <3

For reference, Syrus is about 17-18 during this, and the twins are 12.

Thunder crackled in the distance, making Aril whine and cup his ears while Eira winced and glanced at the sky nervously. Syrus tried to ignore it as he tugged their gear out of their small, capsized fishing boat, which was currently stuck sideways in the sand. They were lucky their stuff hadn’t been washed away by the waves that had stranded them here.

Of course, they would have been even luckier if the twins had listened to Syrus earlier when he’d suggested they go home to avoid the coming storm. “Come on, both of you. We’ll be safer if we find shelter in the cliffs — we can’t even try to head home until this blows over.”

At least they listened this time and followed Syrus as he made his way along the beach. It didn’t take long to find a little shallow cave, where he propped their gear up against a wall. “Now, we just need to find something we can try to make a fire with…”

“Will these do?” Eira asked, holding out some driftwood chunks. “I picked them up while we were walking.”

Despite still being a little mad, Syrus couldn’t hold back a small smile. “You and your sticky fingers… yes, those look dry enough to work.”

“Good thing, too,” Aril piped up, his ears perking up to listen in as the rain outside became a roaring, torrential downpour. “I don’t think anything out there will be dry enough to use for a while.”

Syrus huffed a bit as he dug out a little dip where he soon started setting up the wood to make a fire. The twins settled in nearby — Aril hugging his knees close as he rocked back and forth slowly to soothe himself while Eira started to poke and press at her bare arms and shoulders, wincing each time she touched her own skin.

“Burnt?” Syrus asked, one silver eyebrow going up as he used a little destruction magic to spark a flame. “I told you to put on sun-block ointment — or wear a sleeved shirt.”

“Shut up,” Eira said, her cheeks flushing a darker red. “It’s not that bad.”

“Yes it is,” Aril chided, wincing in empathy as he reached out and delicately put a hand on her shoulder. “Your skin feels like it’s on fire!”

“Ow! Hey, don’t touch it!” She smacked his hand away. “Not unless you’re gonna heal it, anyways!”

“I would,” Aril sighed, tucking his arm back around his legs. “Except I used pretty much all of my energy trying to save the ship earlier. I’m drained.”

“I packed some healing ointments in my bag,” Syrus said, still stoking the fire. “I always make sure I bring some, since you two always seem to attract trouble...” 

Aril got up and scrambled over to the bags before Syrus could stop him, opening one to dumping its contents on the sand as Syrus watched in horror. “No! That was organized!”

“Oops, sorry,” Aril said, grinning sheepishly as he bent over and plucked up a few vials to look at them. Syrus had also neatly labeled everything — which was also a good thing. Aril scrunched his nose up as he shuffled through the vials. “Poison, poison, potent poison…”

Eira gave Syrus a look. “Why bring all those on a fishing trip? You can’t poison fish — well, not if you’re planning to eat it. That’s just dumb.”

“Haha, poison poisson...” Aril mumbled to himself, giggling a little as he set aside some of the vials. Syrus pressed a hand to his face, unable to hold back another groan. “She’s right, though. This is a lot for a fishing trip.”

“I told you, I had that organized — all my best alchemical mixtures are in there. Good and bad. The one you’re looking for will have a blue or green label, Aril. Not red or black.”

“Oh, okay.” Aril set aside several more vials, then grinned as he held up a blue one. “Aha! Mild healing ointment! Or should I use potent…?”

“Mild should do the trick for this,” Syrus said, clapping his hands together as he admired the nice little fire that was finally flickering in front of him. “Potent is for bad wounds. You know — deep cuts, animal bites, that sort of thing.”

Aril nodded, kneeling down next to Eira again as he removed the stopper with his teeth (once again making Syrus grimace and shudder) so he could pour it out and start slathering it over her sunburnt skin. Syrus let them deal with that as he went over to his bag and started organizing the vials in earnest, frowning at how strewn about they were.

So much disorder, caused by one reckless moment. It never mattered how neat and tidy he kept his things — he couldn’t control every factor. Another streak of lightning filled the sky, and all three elves winced as thunder boomed around them. This storm was another great example.

Syrus frowned again as he tucked his potions away in silence. If it had been up to him, he would’ve gone home early and avoided this mess completely. But Aril’s pleading puppy eyes and Eira’s pout had won against his better judgement.

“Fine, fifteen more minutes. Then we go home.”

He had never been able to say no to them, and… they knew he never would.

“Ow! Ah, that stings! Syrus, what did you put in this?”

“Mm? Oh, that’s probably the juniper berry mixture — it’s supposed to give it just a bit of a tingly cooling sensation.” He tugged his journal out to double check his notes as he made his way back to the fire.

“Well, it’s more like a prickly… pricking sensation! Ow!”

Syrus nodded sagely, scratching down a new note next to one of his old ones. “I see… I’ll have to adjust the amounts slightly next time. Less parasol moss, more… garlic, maybe?”

“There’s garlic in this?!” Eira’s voice squeaked in disbelief. “What?”

“Garlic does have a lot of healing properties,” Aril said, slowly, as if not quite sure who he agreed with. “But… it might not be great for skin.”

“You think?!” Eira asked, tears visibly welling up in her eyes before she turned away from the fire, sniffling as she buried her face into her arms.

“Okay, noted. I’ll use something completely different next time. Sorry.”

“It’s okay,” Eira sighed, scooting away from Aril. “It’ll be better by morning, I’m sure. And if not, Aril might be able to use some restoration magic then instead — right?”

“Yeah, if I can get any sleep tonight,” Aril sighed, cupping his ears as another wave of thunder rolled around them. The rain was still heavy, too. “It’s so loud…”

“I can fix that,” Syrus said, quickly weaving a silencing spell around them. “There. Better?”

“Much,” Aril said, leaning back until he was sprawled on the sandy floor of the cave. He was quiet for a few minutes before he turned his head to face Syrus and smile. “It’s so peaceful… Like we’re not caught in a storm at all. A modified muffle spell, right?”

“Mmhm. Just made it so we can’t hear what’s outside the cave, instead of the other way around. Good catch, Aril.”

“I never would’ve thought to use it like that,” he said, grinning. “You’re so smart, Sy.”

“Bah, you’re just flattering me to get back on my good side. It won’t work.”

Aril sighed rolled over completely, flashing the puppy eyes at Syrus again. Eira, however, just smirked and raised an eyebrow — she was far too clever for her own good.

“It won’t work because you weren’t on my bad side to begin with, Aril. Neither of you was, though… Eira’s really been pushing my boundaries lately.”

“I can’t help it — you make such funny faces when you notice your things are out of place!” She grinned and threw her hands up, then relaxed a bit and shook her head. “I’ll try to do it less often, though, if it really bothers you that much.”

Syrus smiled again as he put his journal away and checked his bag one more time, making sure everything was sorted properly. “If you give me your word on that, I can sweeten the deal,” he offered. “I’ll make some specialty potions, just for you.”

He could tell by the way Eira’s eyes glittered that he had her — hook, line, and sinker. “Really? What kind of potions are we talking about? Could you make me invisible? Or able to carry as much as a horse?”

Syrus laughed aloud at that one, shaking his head. “Maybe… but those sorts of potions need much rarer ingredients. I’d have to… acquire them.”

“Not a problem,” Eira said, giggling. “I have ways. And you have a deal.” She held out her hand, and Syrus smiled as he reached out to shake it.

“Yay, glad you made up,” Aril sighed, glaring at both of them. “Now will you please be quiet? I want to get some rest while this spell lasts.”

“Okay, okay…” Eira sighed, wincing as she curled up under her blanket, her burnt skin clearly still making everything uncomfortable. Syrus leaned up against the wall and closed his eyes, but he only pretended to nod off until he was sure his younger siblings were fast asleep.

Then he opened his eyes again to watch the storm — and make sure his wards stayed up the skies were clear. There was a glimmer of light on the horizon as Syrus finally closed his eyes.

If he was lucky, it would still be a few more hours before he was needed again.

[ikesenhell]

The Night We Met

This is the Professional Integrity series, part seven. For all other parts and additional IkeSen works by me, see here.

She came back around in the RV and picked him up from the coffee shop. Appropriately shamed for his ridiculousness, he was quiet and gentle to her for the better part of two hours. 

“Are you sure you want to go there?” She asked for the millionth time, as if he were struck with the same fear as she at the island. 

“Absolutely.” He slid into the driver’s seat and scooted the chair back, a ritual now. “And if it isn’t home for you anymore, we’ll find you a new one. That’s the point of your trip, isn’t it?”

Her smile was sunlight incarnate, and then it wobbled on the seam of her lips and she buried her face in her hands. 

“Woah now.” He cupped his hand over hers. “What’s wrong?”

“I’m sorry.” She mumbled. “The idea of not having you around anymore was... I was more upset than you know. It broke my heart a little bit.”

God, he was such an idiot. 

“I’m sorry.” It felt like a pathetic little cop out of an apology, but he told himself he would make it better. “I promise I won’t leave you.”

“You’d better not.”

It was several long hours before they reached a campground in the farthest northern reach of Michigan, right near what they called Mackinaw City, confusingly enough. It sat on the edges of Lake Michigan, and there, across the water, he could see the little speck of land suspended between them and Canada. Crisp, clean air swept through her hair, sending it in long ripples around her face. 

“There’s a ferry you have to catch,” she educated him. “It takes a bit, but that’s the only way on or off the island. No cars, no bridges, just that.”

“We’ll go tomorrow. For today, we should just set up the RV in the campsite.” 

So that was what they did. They played classic rock and grilled outside in the shelter of some trees, dancing back and forth around the table after she started an impromptu game of tag. Maybe there was something to the idea of her being ‘home’ up here--he didn’t know if it was the rush of being back by her side, within arm’s reach again, but she was aglow in ways he didn’t know people could be. It felt like every part of her body was glitter and gold, a dream haze like a halo around her. 

“Why are you looking at me like that?” She giggled at him from the sink, scrubbing up some dishes. He crammed himself in beside her, dutifully drying them. 

“Like what?”

“I dunno. It was just a nice look, is all.” 

Mitsuhide smiled, but had nothing to say to that. 

The next day they boarded the ferry around ten AM. She shivered, but not from the cool morning air. 

“Scared?” He asked.

“Ahuh.” 

He understood what it felt like to be so terrified of something you could love. Without commentary, he wrapped an arm around her shoulder and pulled her in tight. 

Mackinac Island was just as small as she’d claimed. The town they docked in was tiny, barely one main street and a small side offshoot for an apartment complex, a country club with golf course, a hotel, and--well, that was pretty much it. Everyone had a bike or a horse. 

“It’s just like I remember.” The Princess sounded equally likely to laugh or cry, her eyes welling with tears regardless. “It’s just, just like I remember.”

“Then let’s make the most of that, huh?” He motioned at her. “Let’s rent some bikes and pedal around the island.”

The path was smooth and even. They circled around the small mountain in the center of the island and skirted between the white rocky cliffs, their archways jutting out into the lake. They ate a small lunch in a local shop and she dove in and out of local curio stores, which bored him, but her expressions were so delightful he had entertainment regardless. Dusk was falling by the time they circled back around to the far end of the island again, settling onto a pebble beach. 

“Reminds me of a song,” he mumbled.

“What song?” She asked. 

“Bah, it’s probably only the artist name, really. Lord Huron, The Night We Met?”

The Princess blinked at him. “Never heard of it.”

“Mm. It goes like this.” He cleared his throat, dredging up his long unused singing voice, and quietly murmured the lyrics to her. “I am not the only traveler who has not repaid his debts, I’ve been searching for a trail to follow again--take me back to the night we met.”

“I didn’t know you could sing. Would you do the rest?”

Oh. He felt a little on the spot, but he quietly accommodated her, bringing his head in to sing more. “ And then I can tell myself what the hell I'm supposed to do--And then I can tell myself not to ride along with you.”

Her eyes were boring into his, holding every last inch of stray sunlight, and he tucked her hair behind her ear, murmuring the next lyrics lower than he meant. “I had all and then most of you, some and now none of you. Take me back to the night we met. I don't know what I'm supposed to do, haunted by the ghost of you. Oh, take me back to the night we met.”

“Mitsuhide.” She whispered, and put her hands over his cheeks. “Mitsuhide, please don’t ever leave me again.”

“I promise,” he swore hoarsely. “I promise.”

That night, another night terror. He was on his feet in the RV only shortly after it started, buoyed by the need to soothe her restless heart. 

“Princess.” He murmured, touching her head, and she awoke with a start. 

“Mitsuhide,” she choked, and grabbed his hand. “Mitsuhide.”

“It’s me.” He answered, feeling more and more every day like a knight in service to his lady. “It’s me.”

“I--Would you--”

He didn’t need her to finish the sentence. 

Swinging himself up into the loft bed, he crawled in beside her, arranging his long body along hers. It was cramped for certain--there wasn’t much clearance, not much at all, but it was enough for him to wrap an arm around her waist and pull her in tight to him. He could hear her heartbeat. Her shampoo smelled like lavender and juniper berries, and she felt so soft that he swore it had to be a crime to touch her skin. 

But she didn’t pull away. Instead, she rolled over to him and put her face into his chest. 

“Mitsuhide,” she whispered, scarcely audible in the darkness. “Would it be very inappropriate of me to ask you to kiss me?”

Oh. Shock shot so hard through his body that for a long moment, all he could hear was ringing in his ears, his fingertips knotting nervously into the sheets. 

“Absolutely.” He answered. “We have a bit of a power differential. I am, after all, your bodyguard.”

“You’re right.”

But he pushed her back against the mattress and coiled his hand in her hair--her long, beautiful, perfect hair--and measured the shape of her face with his fingertips, leaving no space untouched. She gasped and writhed under him; he pinned her hip down with his. 

“I almost had the idiot idea to leave,” Mitsuhide hissed greedily. “You’re not getting away from me now.”

“I--” She sounded delighted and terrified. “I’m where I want to be.”

He didn’t care if he went straight to hell for it. He’d laid the pomegranate seeds on the table and she had taken them, one, two, three, like a drug, and he was only cementing that choice with his own. Casting his professional integrity to the wind, he dragged her in by her waist and kissed her as hard as he could. Oh--she tasted like air, and a million miles, and the wide expanse of the whole sky mixed with ozone and lightning, and every moment he spent locked against those sweet lips was another he fell in deeper. She wasn’t just the atmosphere--she was the whole galaxy. 

“Mitsuhide,” she gasped, and it was so pure and honest that it nearly broke him. “Mitsuhide.”

“Please,” he choked against her mouth. “Please let me kiss you more.”

She didn’t answer him, but he took the insistent press of her lips to his as answer enough.