[TB AU] LEOPARDSTAR'S LIE -- Chapter 10 (FINAL) (Patreon)

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For the next day, Leopardstar found herself drifting in and out of consciousness. It grew hard to understand whether or not what she was experiencing was real or a dream – at all times she was either restrained in a nest or free to move about in a hilly landscape sparkling with starlight. Sometimes, she scented Mudfur, and the sharp tang of herbs – other times, she smelled Brightsky, and heard her voice in her ears:

“A lie is a poison that never fades,” her mother would whisper, before fleeing into the stars.

Leopardstar knew she had lost a life, and was clinging to another. She could hear Mothwing’s voice rise in panic as her daughter fumbled with the right herb combinations, and then she felt Mudfur’s paws tremble when he replaced the cobwebs Leopardstar felt staunching the wound in her throat. Before she could muster her voice, though, she would drift back into sleep, feeling Brightsky’s tongue lapping gently at her fur and feel her purr resounding through her spirit.

Finally, what seemed like an eternity later, Leopardstar opened her eyes and, though she felt exhaustion and pain clinging to every hair on her pelt, she did not feel the urge to fall asleep again.

Through bleary eyes Leopardstar saw that she was in the medicine cat’s den, and that it was evening. She could hear the lazy sounds of the nearby stream and feel the heat on her pelt, though the sheltering willows did a lot to keep her cool.

She tried to lift her head, only to find that it was stiff and difficult. Leopardstar gave up with a sigh, a sound loud enough to alert a lump of golden fur not a tail-length away.

Mothwing raised her head and, seeing that her mother’s eyes were open, parted her jaws to cry out: “Mudfur!”

Leopardstar heard shuffling, and a moment later Mudfur was at her side, bending down to meet her eye. Mothwing got to her paws, too, and Leopardstar soon found herself staring into a golden-and-brown wall of fluff, complete with a set of matching amber eyes.

“How do you feel?” Mudfur asked. “Can you speak?”

Leopardstar swallowed around a lump in her throat and managed, her voice harsh and gravelly, “I feel like a badger ripped my throat out.

Mothwing’s eyes flashed with concern, but Mudfur’s whiskers twitched. “Well, dear one, that’s what happened,” he pointed out glibly.

“Falcontail...?” Leopardstar asked.

“He made it out fine,” Mothwing replied, her tone relieved. “He managed to pull the badger away from you and hold it off long enough for Stormfur’s patrol to hear what was happening.”

“They drove it off, towards the Twoleg bridge,” Mudfur finished. He bent forward and sniffed at Leopardstar’s throat. “It’s ThunderClan’s problem now. Mothwing, fetch me some more cobweb.”

Mothwing nodded and, wordlessly, slipped away to do as Mudfur asked. A moment later she was back, fresh cobwebs wrapped around one paw. Leopardstar winced as Mudfur began undoing the dressing at her throat – when he cast it aside, though, Leopardstar was relieved to note that it wasn’t as blood-soaked as she thought it might be.

As he packed the new cobwebs in, Leopardstar wondered, “How long will I need to remain here?”

“You’re healing well,” Mudfur answered, taking a moment to check his work. “StarClan closed the worst of the wound but it was rather deep – I don’t think they could handle all of it.”

“If it weren’t for Falcontail, you might have lost two lives,” Mothwing murmured. She shivered, wrapping her tail around her paws.

Leopardstar frowned. “I should remember to thank him, then,” she decided quietly. Though she should be proud that her son had so bravely defended her, something inside rankled at the thought. She just couldn’t let the image of Falcontail simply standing there while the badger ravaged her leave her mind.

Why did he not listen to me?

“Get some rest,” Mudfur told her. She felt his tongue rasp between her ears. “Mothwing, fetch poppy seed – enough to let your mother sleep peacefully until tomorrow.”

“Y-Yes, Mudfur!”

Leopardstar wondered if she really needed the poppy seed to begin with – her vision was already swimming with tiredness. She lapped up the seeds from Mothwing’s paw pad regardless, and laid her head down against the side of her moss-lined nest.

Her mind swum with thoughts, the sound of cicadas and the soft voices of Mothwing and Mudfur lulling her back to sleep.

———————————————————-

Something rustled.

Leopardstar’s eyelids felt heavy as stone as she forced an eye half-open at the sound. Night had bathed the forest in darkness, and her night-sight was slow to work, likely thanks to the poppy seeds.

She kept herself still as water as she listened, straining her ears to compensate for her sight. She could hear the sounds of the night – crickets and insects, a bat screeching somewhere far off, and an owl hooting ever further away. In this silence, Leopardstar could even hear the faint sound of a monster crawling along the Thunderpath.

Closer to home, there was another rustle.

Leopardstar’s ears pricked and turned. Someone in camp is awake, she thought. Perhaps it was whomever Tawnypelt had appointed to watch the camp tonight? Oftentimes they patrolled the perimeter to check for holes in the camp boundary.

Another rustle, and a pawstep now, too.

No, Leopardstar realized, this is closer to the medicine den.

She tried to lift her head again, but found it too hard. The poppy seeds were pulling her down again, just as she spotted a flash of eyes right at the entrance of the medicine cat’s den. No, stop! She begged, willing the medicine to stop. I have to see-!

Those eyes flashed up to meet Leopardstar’s as she sank back into sleep.

———————————————————-

Two days passed. Leopardstar padded out from her den by the Clan Root, glad to be away from the cloying smell of herbs and the fretting of Mudfur and his new apprentice - Mothwing.

Mudfur had spotted the moth’s wing the morning before the last, carefully laid out before the medicine cat’s den. It was all the sign that Mudfur needed to officially ask Mothwing to be his apprentice – which she accepted with great enthusiasm.

Leopardstar spotted her daughter now, padding out of the medicine cat’s den with a leaf-wrap in her jaws for Leafwhisker’s wrenched shoulder. She looked so happy, so fulfilled – Leopardstar couldn’t help but thank StarClan again, for guiding Mothwing along her true purpose.

The warrior’s den twitched, and Feathertail slid out.

The two she-cats stared at one another, before Mothwing had to mumble something and force herself into the den. Feathertail stared after Mothwing, her eyes dark with longing and sorrow.

Leopardstar frowned at that. Every cat had been pleased with Mothwing finally being accepted as a medicine cat apprentice – every cat but Feathertail. Though the pale gray tabby never said it, it was clear as the greenleaf sky above that she was hurt.

I’ll have to do something to distract her, Leopardstar thought, watching Feathertail move sullenly to the fresh-kill pile. Perhaps an apprentice would help? Leopardstar glanced at the nursery, where Mosspelt’s only kit, Willowkit, was emerging to play in the sunshine. Leopardstar, unfortunately, had a different mentor in mind for her.

One of Dawnflower's kits, maybe, Leopardstar considered. Mudfur had reported that Dawnflower and Frostsplash were expecting at least two. Yes, she and Stormfur will each take one of her kits. It’s long past time they had an apprentice.

Leopardstar let herself stretch. Tawnypelt had already assigned patrols for the day, and the camp and its denizens were moving like ants at work. Heavystep and Reedpaw were reinforcing the reed walls, while Leafwhisker and Ripplecloud were taking Rosepaw and Goldenpaw to battle training. Dawnflower, her belly heavy with kits, emerged from the nursery to eat with Frostsplash, who met her with a mouse from the night before.

She resisted the urge to itch at her neck. Though the wound had closed, the scab was persistent, and would be for some time. It pulled at Leopardstar’s fur and tugged at her skin, making it difficult to move her head – at Mudfur’s insistence, she was not to go off hunting or patrolling until it had healed completely. Normally, such a restriction would infuriate her, but...

Everything is peaceful, Leopardstar thought happily. Though the drought was a looming problem for all the Clans, it felt far away as she watched her Clanmates go about their daily lives. She felt content, happy – RiverClan had come so far since LionClan, and Bluestar’s attempts to destroy them.

So why do I feel as if there is darkness here?

Leopardstar swallowed. Despite the peace in the camp, she could not push down the small minnow of unease that swam in her gut. Something was wrong, here, and she couldn’t place her paw quite on what.

A flash of fur at the warrior’s den caught her eye. Falcontail emerged, stretching, the sunlight dappling his spotted gray coat. His eye caught Leopardstar’s, and he headed her way.

Normally, seeing her son willingly deciding to come to her over, say, Blackclaw or Leafwhisker, would have made her happy but... that minnow of unease turned into a heavy trout as he approached. Leopardstar tried to push it away as Falcontail dipped his head to her.

“Mother,” he meowed cordially, “would you like to take a walk with me?”

Leopardstar flicked an ear. An unusual request, even for the son of a Clan leader to make. Still, perhaps this would help settle the feeling that swam in Leopardstar’s belly. “I would,” she replied.

Falcontail’s eyes flashed, and he led the way out of camp. Leopardstar followed, very carefully pushing herself through the reed tunnel so as to not aggravate her wounds. She found Falcontail waiting patiently for her on the other side, and Leopardstar followed him once more as he trotted off into the reeds.

He led the way up the hill nearest to camp, a place where Leopardstar often posted guards when RiverClan was in danger. The hill here had a great view of the approach to the camp without being too far away, and watchers were sheltered from sight by the tall reeds. There was a boulder here, and another old willow, making it a good spot for sunning when greenleaf wasn’t so intense as it was now.

Falcontail hopped up onto this boulder, and beckoned for Leopardstar to join him. The stone was warm beneath her paws as Leopardstar climbed up to join her son, their pelts brushing in the hot sunlight.

“It looks so small from up here,” Falcontail remarked, looking down at the RiverClan camp.

Leopardstar nodded in agreement, following his gaze. She could see Tawnypelt, Blackclaw, and Mackarelpaw returning from the dawn patrol, making their way through a well-worn trail in the reeds below. Moments later they disappeared into the willow-sheltered glade, and out came Frostsplash and Heavystep for the sunhigh patrol, Reedpaw following behind.

“I would give anything to keep it safe,” Falcontail murmured.

Leopardstar’s ear twitched. “As would I,” she agreed. Despite her son’s more radical views on the warrior code, she was glad that his heart was in the right place.

Falcontail twitched his tail against her’s. “Are you happy that Mothwing is a medicine cat now?”

“Of course,” Leopardstar responded. “Mudfur isn’t getting any younger, and she’s been so dedicated to it.” Leopardstar adjusted herself on the stone – the heat was making her pads feel sticky. “I’m glad StarClan seems to agree.”

Leopardstar looked down at the camp again, watching as a gray shape left camp and headed further into RiverClan territory. “I worry for Feathertail, however,” she admitted, watching the young warrior take off. “She and Mothwing were so close, and now...”

Falcontail scoffed beside her. “They’ll get over it,” he insisted. “It’s not like they would have worked in the first place.”

Leopardstar frowned. Feathertail had disappeared from her sight, now, off hunting on her own again. “And why is that?” she wondered, glancing at Falcontail.

“Because we’re kin,” Falcontail said simply. “It would just be wrong.”

Leopardstar froze.

Falcontail blinked at her, slowly. “You’re wondering how I know, I suppose?” he asked idly, as if it were a question about the weather. “How I know that Darkstripe is our father?”

Leopardstar’s mouth went dry. “H-How...?” she meowed, dumbstruck. “When?”

“It really didn’t take much to guess,” Falcontail told her, bending his chin to lick at his chest fur. “You never spoke of our father, so I assumed that meant he wasn’t someone worth speaking of. I lined up a few details from elder’s stories about LionClan and... well, like I said – it was easy.”

“M-Mothwing,” Leopardstar murmured, “does she...?” Was that why she chose to be a medicine cat?

Falcontail, however, shook his head. Scoffing again, he grunted, “Mothwing’s too fluff-brained to put a mouse and its tail together, if she had to – she doesn’t know... and I didn’t tell her.”

Leopardstar felt as if some cat had dunked her into the river in leaf-bare. The wound on her throat pulsed with her heartbeat, and she dug her claws into the stone below her. The world felt like it was spinning, suddenly, and bile rose in her throat as she tried to grapple with what this all meant.

Oh, StarClan... he knows...

Then, like an unpleasant gift from StarClan, it came to her: “It was you,” Leopardstar realized, turning to lock eyes with Falcontail. “You planted the moth’s wing sign for Mudfur.”

She waited for him to deny it – she prayed he would – but Falcontail’s eyes flashed not with betrayal, but pride.

“Of course I did,” he said simply, licking his chest fur. “How else were Mothwing and Feathertail going to separate?”

Leopardstar bristled, her blood going from ice to fire. “How could you do such a thing?!” she spat. “Do you have any idea what will happen when the Clan finds out? When Mothwing finds out?!”

Falcontail drew himself up, his eyes turning cold. “I did it for the same reason you never told us about our father – I did it for RiverClan. For our own good.”

He rose to his paws, and Leopardstar rose to meet him – but she found herself trembling, and she slid herself to the edge of the boulder while her son lifted his chin, his eyes burning into her like pale fire. There was something in his eye, something that set off another flare of recognition.

He stood there on purpose! Leopardstar realized, her heart dropping. He was going to let the badger kill me! My own son!

“I’m willing to forget the lie you told us, told the whole Clan,” Falcontail hissed, his voice low and dangerous, “if you’re willing to forgive me my little lie, too... and see what my strength – strength you clearly don’t have - can do for RiverClan.”

Leopardstar bristled as Falcontail prowled towards her. Her hind paw slipped off of the boulder, and she found herself slithering down to the earth below. Brightsky’s voice crossed her mind, again: “A lie is a poison that never fades.”

What have I done? Leopardstar thought, fear prickling her pelt as she gathered herself to look up at Falcontail. What have I created?

“I’ll tell them all, Mother,” Falcontail promised. He looked down at her, his tail-tip flicking with satisfaction. “Mothwing, too. I’ll tell her how you not only lied about our father, but you lied about knowing the sign was fake... So many lies, Mother... what’s one more?”

Leopardstar dug her claws into the earth. A familiar scent tickled her nose, and she saw something flicker to life beside her son. There, his pelt thin as mist as he crouched on the rock, was Darkstripe, his eyes flashing with pride as he looked on at his son.

Standing together, now, the two had never looked more alike.