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residents-of-the-darkforest · 5 months

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A Dark Forest warrior and his mother: a story in three parts

Together in Sweet Innocence

"Swee'ree!" Alderkit called into the dark and gloomy den. He had had the nightmare again, of a two-headed beast chasing him through the trees. He had woken up just when their jaws had clamped shut around him.

He squirmed, reaching around in his nest, but found only empty space. His heart began to pound. Were those simply gaps in the walls of the den, or pairs of eyes staring him down, waiting for the perfect time to jump and devour him in one gulp?

Wailing in terror, he shuffled deep into his nest with his paws over his eyes. He felt weight shift beside him and began to cry out, then quickly realized that through the moss he could detect a familiar scent. He poked his head out.

Sweettree, his mother, lay next to him, her glazed eyes looking down endearingly. "That nightmare again?" she asked, resting her chin on her paws. Alderkit lifted himself and wobbled closer, so that he could press against her muzzle.

"Mmm-hmm." He nodded vigorously. "It ate me and I died!"

"You're not dead!" Hollykit cut in from the opposite side of the den. Bags hung under her eyes, it was clear that he had woken her. Shimmerstone began to hush her when, a rare sight, Sweettree curled her lip.

"I asked you to watch him."

Shimmerstone looked apologetic. "If your sickness is contagious...."

"That doesn't give you the right to neglect a crying kit to keep your own from catching a sniffle!" Sweettree snapped, then quickly flipped herself around so that her back was to Shimmerstone.

Shimmerstone sighed. "We all know by now it's not just a sniffle, Sweet."

What did that mean? A heavy stone dropped in Alderkit's belly. "Do you have greencough?" he asked his mother, voice trembling like a pond welcoming droplets. His ears flattened, as though it could block out any bad answer she could give and make it so that it couldn't be true.

Sweettree hesitated, and something flickered in her eyes. Alderkit hadn't noticed before how glossy they were, or how many lines she had under them. Her fur stuck out in random places–surely that was only because she had just been hunting?

She stretched her paws out and pulled him into an embrace, holding him against her throat and laying her chin over his body. He settled into it, breathing in her milky scent and sneezing when her fur brushed against his nose. His head began to slink downward, his eyes narrowing in exhaustion. The worry of having the nightmare again was distant. He didn't care what happened to him in sleep so long as his mother was here, holding him close.

Separation in Reunion

(Skipping previous stories that showed him receive his other lives)

Aldereyes could not hear the displeased murmurings that had been ringing quietly along the edge of every life he had so far been given. Now, there was no talking, no whistle of wind brushing his ears, not even blood pounding within his skull.

It was as if all was still–including his very heart, not falling to the pit of his stomach nor leaping into his throat, not melting with warmth or freezing with ice. It was as if he couldn’t feel anything at all, as if his brain didn’t have the capability of allowing him to look at who he was looking at and process how that would make him feel at the same time. It would be too much. It was too much.

So he was left looking at Sweettree, saying nothing, only gaping and staring like a fish flung onto the sandy shores of Riverclan.

Sweetree’s expression, however, was painfully clear. Her eyes shimmered with a sadness so powerful and deep that Aldereyes was sure that every cat in all five Clans could drown in them, and there would still be room left for the loners. Beneath them were bags so heavy her face drooped, coated in a fervid red like a fever. Her fur was a mess, flat against her fame in some places and sticking out randomly in others. Stars..she looked worse now than when she had died.

And Aldereyes is responsible for it.

The numbness thawed instantaneously, and as though there was the chill of a rainstorm over his head, Aldereyes felt droplets of coldness bury themselves beneath his aching skin, crawling beneath it like worms and inching toward his eyes, where they stung until they fell, soaking his cheeks. His stomach, on the other hand, was uncomfortably hot, and his gut felt as if it were being pulled and twisted. “Sweet-Sweettree!” He gasped, struggling to stand.

His mother stood there, whiskers away yet fields apart from him, saying nothing. Was she rejecting him? His own mother?

Did he deserve it?

An eternity passed, Aldereyes barely holding the strength to keep the wail of anguish from his throat any longer, when Sweettree stepped forward. She seemed hesitant, and Aldereyes couldn’t help but guess-almost feel as if he knew with certainty–that she didn’t want to so much as look at him, because he couldn’t be her son. Her precious kit. She didn’t want who he was anymore, no longer the kitten suckling at her belly or begging for a story, telling her while standing proudly on his small, stubby legs that he loved her and she was his best friend.

She didn’t want this monster.

Right now, he felt like the kit that she so desperately wanted, his own desperation and sorrow crashing through his entire body in endless waves, making his whole body shake and words quiver so much that they were almost incomprehensible. He remembered his mother and how much he missed her, but he had always pushed those memories to the back of his mind to avoid feeling them. Now, they were all around him. He could smell her milk, he could feel her warmth and the way she purred beside him, the way she pulled him close and licked his fur, even if he was already clean, because she just wanted to hold him while she still could. For a few heartbeats, he was that kit again. “M-Momma?”

Sweettree’s eyes widened. She rushed forward so quickly, Aldereyes had no time to react. He stiffened in surprise when she buried her head into the side of his neck, then melted into the feeling, drinking in her scent as he rested his chin on her shoulder. “My precious son! I miss you so much! If only I had been there–I could have guided you–”

“No,” Aldereyes cut her off, forcing himself to focus on the reality of where he was, instead of the fantasy of the nursery from moons and moons ago. “You couldn’t have.” He frowned, chip trembling. “There’s a darkness in me, mom.”

Sweettree didn’t respond. She couldn’t deny it. She couldn’t agree. After several long heartbeats, she pulled away and faced him. “I love you, all the same. That will never stop, even if I hate what you have done.”

Aldereyes looked at his paws. How could he face his mother now?

“Look at me,” she told him, more firmly. He did so trepidatiously.

A fury began to burn in his mother’s irises. “I hate that you’re a killer. I hate that you’re a betrayer. I hate that you hurt cats that are kind to you, that trust you. I hate that you murder cats that don’t even know you. I hate the thoughts that you allow yourself to think. I hate that you let them control you. I hate what you let them do to my innocent little kit. But I can’t hate you. I don’t think I could, even if I wanted to. You’re still my kit, my precious golden star.”

A whimper escaped Aldereyes. He had forgotten his mother’s nickname for him.

His chest heaved when she pressed her nose gently against his head. He sniffed, hardly holding onto control and resisting the overwhelming need to let the sobs wracked his body. He dug his claws deep into the ground to steady himself.

“With this life, I give you love. Please, please don’t let it lead you astray anymore.”

What did she mean by that?

Water slipped down Aldereyes’s throat, filling his lungs with a hot liquid that bubbled and buzzed within him. His paws tingled with a pleasant sensation that almost had him bouncing around the clearing. Then his spine stiffened, ice gripping the cartilage, spreading to his ribs and into the liquid like Riverclan in leaf-bare. No! No! He didn’t want the feeling to leave, but even so, he could feel the crackling tendrils spread deeper, and the warmth was completely gone.

Sweetree blinked at him solemnly. Then she raised her head. “Alderstar! Alderstar! Alderstar!”

Hers was the only voice throughout the clearing. If Aldereyes shut his eyes, he could have imagined her as a lone cat in a ravine, her words echoing off of the stones.

Everyone else sat in complete silence.

That was okay.

Sweettree’s voice was the only one he needed to hear.

Apart for Eternity

The sound of grass rustling made Alderstar's ears swivel, but he didn't move his gaze. "I want to be alone," he told whoever was there.

"What are you doing?" came a young–and slightly familiar–voice. Alderstar turned his head and saw Perchpaw staring at him curiously. Alderstar was glad to see that he wasn't as wary as before, though by his stance, that wasn't completely gone. It had been about half a moon since he had first met the 'paw, but they haven't spoken much. That mostly went to Hootpetal, who was much better with the whole 'talking' business.

"Waiting."

His mate must've put in a good word for him, because Perchpaw padded forward until he was standing next to where Alderstar was seated, only a small, almost unnoticeable trace of trepidation in his pricked fur. The apprentice looked around them. "Waiting for who?"

"Does that matter?" Alderstar bristled, then quickly forced his fur to lie flat.

Perchpaw tilted his head at the sight ahead of them. "Isn't that the border?" He blinked at a white, blinding light dancing like smoke in a far clearing, far enough from them so that it didn't hurt their eyes too much.

"Yes."

Perchpaw sat. "Are you meeting with a Starclan cat?"

Alderstar noticed he still kept his distance. He debated on how honest he should be with the young tom. On one side, he didn't like others knowing his vulnerabilities, his softness. On the other, it would be a good way to get Perchpaw to open up to him. For Hootpetal's sake. "No. She won't come."

"She?" Alderstar felt eyes on him. He suddenly felt small, even though the cat he was talking to reached his shoulder.

The only cats he ever admitted this to were his mates and Grousemane. Not even Magpiepaw or Stonepaw knew. He didn't want the pity of someone else. But this wasn't about pity, so he forced through his teeth, "my mother."

There was a silent pause. Perchpaw shuffled his paws. "Does she not like you?" he asked at last.

Alderstar couldn't hold back a hiss. "She loved me very much!"

Then, seeing Perchpaw's wide eyes, he let out a long breath, all the air he could exhale leaving his body until he just wanted to sit back and wait for it to build again. "At least for the small time she knew me. I don't know how she feels now, but I don't think she would be very proud." He felt a twinge when he recalled his nine lives ceremony, and the pain in Sweettree's eyes when she looked at him.

More painfully, he remembered his death–or deaths, rather. He had heard a voice then, soothing, and a body around his. He wasn't sure if it had really been Sweettree comforting him in his final moments, or if it had just been his imagination after so much blood loss.

He didn't regret what he did. He didn't think he ever will. But that doesn't mean he can't feel sorry that his mother had to watch him do all that he did.

"Why did she only know you for a short time?" Perchpaw's ears lowered. "Did she not want to feed you?"

"She was a wonderful mother," Alderstar answered quickly, again forcing the anger from his voice. Why do young cats always ask so many questions? "But she died while I was still young."

"Who took care of you after that?"

Alderstar was surprised at that question. "No one."

"So you were alone?" Perchpaw's questions were falling quiet.

"For some time," Alderstar told him.

Silence fell over them again. Alderstar returned his attention to the bright mist ahead, eyes narrowed against its brightness. Then he stiffened when he felt a body press against his side. Not wanting to move in fear of frightening the apprentice away, he glanced out of the corner of his eye to see Perchpaw still sitting next to him, only much, much closer. His gaze was, like Alderstar's had been, ahead and on the border.

"Can I wait with you?"

Alderstar relaxed. Slowly, he laid his tail so that it lay half-wrapped around Perchpaw, not constricting, and only noticeable if he paid attention to it. "Sure."

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Some of the stories are old so excuse writing mistakes lol

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babydarkstar · 3 months

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honestly no wonder harrow forced ianthe to lobotomize her so she could save gideon. listen…LISTEN…if i was a secret-war-crime cult nunlet princess worshipped by my entire planet and the only person that (barely) kept me in check was my childhood nemesis—a butch a year older than me, towering over me in stature and physical prowess, and so hot it made my teeth hurt from how hard my jaw clenched in her presence, who wielded a two-handed seven-foot sword and had irritatingly huge biceps and told very lewd stupid jokes and also learned how to wield an entirely new weapon and be my bodyguard with startling accuracy in three months—only to have us finally learn to trust each other because we got invited to a magic murder mystery and then before the bubble burst i spilled the worst secret about myself that i was born because my parents murdered an entire generation and tried to Kill Her along with them and she just wouldnt die, and i told her this expecting a swift death i believed i deserved, only for her to fucking cradle me in her big butch arms and kiss me on my forehead with her soft butch mouth and just. forgive me for a shameful weight ive carried my entire life and then MAKE AN ACTUAL NECRO/CAV VOW with me despite every evil thing i have done to her……to have her tell me, in the end, bleeding and broken after putting up the most beautiful and glorious fight of her life, that she understands purpose and she understands duty and she knows loyalty more fiercely than ever now, that she knows who she is to me, that there is no her without me….to have her backed into a corner and make the ultimate sacrifice…..for me…..to recite scriptural wedding vows of eternity to me in her last wisps of soul-consciousness…..if i thought there was even a snowflake’s chance in the pyre that i could save her by turning myself into her very own locked tomb, i’d be begging ianthe tridentweirdius to crack my skull open and turn me to mush too, goddamn. i understand you harrowhark girl you don’t have to explain a thing to me. god said you couldn’t undo the lyctor’s bond bc it’d kill you. you told god and his angels that not even a lyctor’s bond could outshine the power of female spite and lesbianism and they didn’t listen. they didn’t believe you. but i heard you loud and clear and i was 17 and hormonal and hopelessly romantic not too long ago unlike those fucking dinosaurs and i’m saying it’s valid it’s what i would have done and really everyone should be thanking you for not being worse and more wretched about it, all things considered

#i think about gideon nav every day #she makes me want to eat drywall #shes so jesus shes so her own thing shes so god and savior It Is Finished divinity of love and sacrifice #honestly so much of harrow is so so relatable to me shes so real for everything she does #her little griddlehark meetcute au her little divine highness au #ive already waxed poetic about the harrow nova au #sorry to keep waxing poetic about this but i really am rotted about them #like im going insane. tamsyn muir when i get you tamsyn when i catch you #griddlehark #tlt spoilers #harrowhark nonagesimus #i am you as you are me we are one and two and two and one #i cannot conceive of a universe without you.#should i forget you let my right hand also be forgotten; add more also. if aught but death part me and thee.#I FELL INTO THE WATER AND NOW IM FREE

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