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“Be good for Daddy,” Tigerheart purrs. “Stay still for me while I clean you off.”
She’s covered in pieces of hay, and he has every intention of making it hard for her to actually stay still, if only to tease. Unfortunately, like the good, helpful kitten she is, she stretches onto her stomach, leaving her much dirtier back exposed for easy cleaning.
“Stomach first, kitten,” he says, swatting her lightly.
“You just want to be an ass,” she snarks.
Tigerheart growls. “I know my kitten isn’t speaking like that, is she?”
Dovewing flips over, meeting his eyes for a moment before tilting her head back. “She’s not. I’m sorry, Daddy.”
He purrs, licking short kisses around her jaw. “That’s right. Because she’s a sweet little one who wouldn’t use foul language.”
She lifts her paws, as if to cover her face, and Tigerheart works on the hay tangled in her belly fur.
After a while, when he’s gotten most of the hay out, she asks, in a small voice, “Are you mad at me?”
Tigerheart pauses, looking up. “Of course not, kitten.”
“But I messed up.” And I went quiet, Tigerheart adds.
“You apologized.” He steps forward, to press a comforting lick to her forehead. “You’re forgiven. Just don’t talk to me like that.” He rubs his nose against hers. “I love you, Dovey.”
“Love you too.”
He goes back to grooming her, but with a close eye on her body language. “How are you doing?”
“Good.” She purrs. “Happy.”
“Wiggly.” He tickles her, and she squeals.
“Daddy! That’s not fair! I can’t stay still when you do that.”
“You can’t, hm?” Tigerheart flips her over, grabbing her scruff. “I can help you with that.”
The Clan doesn’t know how to treat her.
She’s a savior; she’s broken; she’s just Dovewing, and that’s all she’s ever wanted to be.
It’s been more than a year since the Great Battle, and she still avoids the Training Hollow, like just being there will make her freeze.
Leafpool sits with her. “Sometimes our brains hold on to threats that aren’t there,” she says. “Maybe it will pass; maybe it won’t.”
“What am I supposed to do?” Dovewing asks. She can’t go on a border patrol because there might be a skirmish. Her sister has an apprentice; when cats tussle around her, she freezes up, and Fernsong or Ivypool have to nudge her somewhere safe until she calms down. At first, they thought her episodes would fade, but Dovewing is pretty sure they’re getting stronger. “I can’t go on like this.”
“Dovewing, there’s nothing wrong with where you are. And…I don’t know.” She licks Dovewing’s shoulder. “I wish this was like a battle wound, and I could put the right herbs together and make it better. But all I can do is say there’s nothing wrong with you.”
There is something wrong with her.
She’s just stuck with it as everyone else moves on.
Dovewing tackles Tigerheart. “I win!”
“Not yet, kitten.” She’s stronger than cats give her credit for, but she’s still smaller than him. Shaking her off isn’t hard. Dovewing squares herself with him, and he deflects her next attempt, pinning her on her back. “Daddy got you.”
She squeals. They’re both playing — Dovewing could break out easily, and almost certainly telegraphed her jump intentionally, but what she wants is to know she’s safe and protected, and what he wants is—
“Don’t hurt me,” she purrs, tilting her head coyly.
“How could I hurt you?” Tigerheart presses his nose to her jaw. “Although…you’re so cute I want to eat you up!” Tigerheart tickles her, and she laughs, squirming underneath his pin.
“Don’t eat me! I’m your kitten! You can’t eat me!”
“Hm…” Tigerheart shifts, scattering kisses over her face. “You make a compelling argument, Dovey.” He nips the skin of her neck, not far from her throat. “I won’t eat you.”
Dovewing looks up at him, and he licks her cheek. She’s fidgety and anxious, and he doesn’t need to ask to know she’s had a rough few days. “You want something,” he purrs, pulling her attention fully onto him.
“Everything is — too much. I can’t do it.”
Tigerheart purrs. “You just want to be my kitten, hm?”
She nods. “Please, Daddy?”
“On your back, Dovey. Let me see your pretty throat.”
Dovewing obeys beautifully, and Tigerheart presses his muzzle to her throat, just absorbing her scent. He can’t take away the pressure that threatens to crush her, but he can take her mind off of it for the moment.
How he’ll do that, he’s undecided. He can’t get away with just teasing licks forever.
”What’s on my kitten’s mind?”
“Too much.”
“I figured.” He nips by her shoulder. “What do you need from Daddy?”
Her nose twitches. “I don’t want to think.”
Not really an answer, but he can work with it.
“You sound like you need a reminder that Daddy will take care of you,” he says. “That he’s going to protect you.”
Dovewing starts to murmur her agreement, but he drags his teeth over her throat, and it turns into a gasp. She whimpers, and he licks the same spot.
“It’s okay, Dovey. Daddy’s got you. Now. Be a good kitten and roll over.”
When she complies, he grips her scruff, and she folds into it, arching against him before going limp. “There.” Tigerheart presses kisses over her back. “You’re my kitten,” he purrs. “All you have to worry about is being my sweet Dovey.”
As he nuzzles her flank, her paws shake.
“You alright?”
Dovewing hums wordlessly, and Tigerheart pulls her into his grip. “Daddy’s got you,” he purrs. “Don’t worry.”
She closes her eyes, a soft, fragile purr rising.
“You can sleep, kitten,” he says. “I’ll wake you up before you have to go.”
“Don’t wanna go.”
“I know. Don’t worry about it, lovey-Dovey. Daddy’s got you right now.”
“Sneaking out isn’t good for your sleep,” Ivypool warns.
Dovewing growls. “It’s not like I’m sleeping as it is.”
She doesn’t even have to sneak out. The guards don’t question her.
“If you’re going to pretend that’s what this is about, can’t you take someone? I’m worried about you.”
“I’m not helpless,” she hisses, even though she is. “Look. The medicine cats won’t give me something to sleep, and I can’t, and sometimes I can when I go out. So. I’m trying to take care of myself.”
What she means is: When I’m with Tigerheart, I can rest.
Ivypool brushes cheeks with her. “Okay. Just — be careful?”
Tigerheart licks her forehead. “Kitten,” he murmurs.
“What is it, Daddy?” She arches her back away from him, purring. “Did you want something?”
He growls playfully. “You know what Daddy wants.”
Tigerheart starts in on her, and Ivypool can’t keep watching. “Dovewing?!” Ivypool steps out of the shadows. “What the fuck is going on?”
Dovewing’s eyes go wide, as if she’s expecting this to turn to a fight.
“Ivypool,” Tigerheart says, stepping just ahead of Dovewing. “Did — were you watching us?” His tail scoops around Dovewing’s back, bringing her close.
“Regrettably.” Ivypool’s tail lashes. “Dovewing, why are you even…” She doesn’t trail off, so much as realize she doesn’t want to keep going. “How did this get worse?” she mutters. Her sister has a mate from another Clan — fine. Ivypool hates him, hates the whole situation, but fine.
Her sister calls her mate Daddy?
Fuck.
Dovewing churrs, rubbing her temple against Tigerheart’s shoulder. “What do you mean?”
“You—”
“Ivypool,” Tigerheart warns. “Now isn’t a good time for this.”
“Because you were about to fuck her? Yeah, what ThunderClan really needs is more halfClan kits.”
“Because you’re upsetting her.” He kisses her temple.
“It’s fine,” Dovewing says. The look she gives Tigerheart makes it clear what she wants to add, and Ivypool is grateful she doesn’t. “But it is weird that you followed me.”
“When you say you’re going on walks at night, but I find hay in your nest, I do grow concerned.”
“Hay?” Tigerheart eyes Dovewing. “Kitten—”
“Stray piece. Could’ve been from anything.” She flicks her ears. That’s not the point. It’s still weird that Ivypool followed.”
“Yeah, trust me, I wish I hadn’t.” Ivypool flops to the ground. “But really, Dove, daddy?”
“Not that it’s your business, but yes.” Dovewing’s ears flick a few times, and she can’t quite meet Ivypool’s eyes.
Tigerheart nuzzles her head, and Dovewing’s anxious twitches slow.
“That’s…yeah. Yeah! Alright, Dovewing, let’s go.” Just as abruptly, Ivypool gets back to her feet. Dovewing narrows her eyes. “Back to ThunderClan,” Ivypool adds, as if it was unclear.
“No.
“What? Dove, I—”
“I’m spending my night with him.”
“You’re breaking the code!”
“I don’t know what you want me to fucking say!” Dovewing snaps.
Tigerheart growls, and Ivypool wishes she had the foresight to stand away from them, so she could run off.
“Language,” he hisses.
Dovewing looks up at him, her expression soft and coy. Fuck. Why is Ivypool still here?
“She swore.”
“Ivypool can do what she wants.” And what she wants is to not be watching this. “You don’t use words like that.”
Her ears fold out. “Sorry, Daddy.”
Ivypool coughs, because she’s feeling forgotten and that’s worse. They can’t go back to forgetting about her.
“We’ll talk later, kitten.” Tigerheart licks her neck. “Apologize to Ivypool.”
“Sorry.” Dovewing takes a breath, her posture shifting. “I’m sorry for lashing out.”
“It’s…” No. No, Ivypool is not repeating her mistakes. “I am going back to ThunderClan. If you’re not back by dawn, and they ask where you are, I won’t lie.”
“Can I ask a question, but like — you decide if I want the answer?” Ivypool asks.
Dovewing furrows her brow. “Not sure how you expect me to know if you want the answer, but…”
“Just — I mean I won’t be upset, but if you want to say, ‘you don’t want to know,’ I’ll drop it.”
“Go ahead and ask.”
“How did you and Tigerheart gets started, with, uh, that?”
“Um. I don’t…think you want the actual beginning. But, uh, part of it was that I was so tired of being…well, part of a prophecy, that I just…wanted to not have to worry about it.”
“And your solution was this?”
“It was effective.” Dovewing’s whiskers twitch. “Not to give you too much detail, but it’s hard to feel like everyone’s counting on you when your Dad—” Dovewing catches herself. “When you’re being called Dovey and playing mossball.”
“Does he really call you that?”
Ivypool immediately regrets her decision when she sees Dovewing’s eyes light up.
“He calls me his lovey-Dovey sometimes,” she says, without a trace of shame or irony. Ivypool fights to keep a straight face, but eventually grimaces, and Dovewing cackles. “I’m sorry, Ivy. You just left an opening.”
Tigerheart meets Dovewing’s eyes.
Well.
If he’s going to be ousted from his Clan, his sister abandoning them, as Darktail brings a fresh terror, he can — at least — be with her.
She approaches him, poise in her pawsteps. “Well-met,” she murmurs. “Although I wish it were in better circumstances.”
“Well-met,” he agrees. “Would you care to take me on a territory tour?”
Dovewing purrs. “Happily.”
Rowanstar and Tawnypelt are still making diplomatic talk, and no one is paying attention to him. He wants, so badly, to brush pelts with her, but he can’t.
“There isn’t time to make you a nest,” she says. “Why don’t you share with me tonight?”
Dovewing wakes up next to Tigerheart. His tail is draped over her side, his whiskers brush the top of her head.
She feels rested.
She closes her eyes again, wiggling so she’s nestled between his limbs. Tigerheart murmurs something unintelligable, almost asleep, and she just purrs.
She feels normal.
“I don’t know what you want,” Bumblestripe says. “But if you just tell me, I can do it.”
“No, you can’t.”
Bumblestripe takes a deep breath. He can. He wants her to be happy. He wants to be the one to make her happy. “Dovewing, I’m serious. If you want someone to take care of you, I can do that.”
“Even when it means endless games of mossball and having your tail chewed up?” she asks, the corners of her eyes wrinkling with amusement.
Bumblestripe blinks. “I mean…” He would do that. He can see their kittens now — grey, just like them, tiny, clustering under her — and Bumblestripe would be the best father he could be. “If that’s what you want.”
She meets his eyes, looking like he’s said he can swim.
“I’m serious, Dovewing. You want kits? We can have kits. I’ll hunt for you every day, make you the softest nest — anything you want, you can have.”
“I—” Dovewing growls. “Why can’t you just take no for an answer?!”
“I’m offering you what you want!”
“I don’t — no. No. I’m done. Leave me alone, Bumblestripe.”
“Dovewing, please. Tell me what I need to do and I’ll do it.”
“What you need to do is stay away from me,” she hisses, stalking away from him and brushing pelts with Tigerheart. He nuzzles her, and Bumblestripe sighs. He just wants to make her happy. Why can’t she see that?
Green eyes greet Tigerheart when he returns from the Gathering.
He drops his voice to a hiss. “What are you doing awake?”
“I wanted to wait up for you.”
He presses his nose to her ear. “After I told you to sleep?”
Guilt radiates from Dovewing, and Tigerheart surrounds her in the nest.
“Daddy—”
“We’ll talk about this in the morning.”
Dovewing wriggles. “Daddy, please! I said I’m sorry!”
Tigerheart runs his paw over her back. “I warned you, Dovey.”
“But I’m sorry!”
He nuzzles her scruff, then presses on it with one paw. “Stay still.”
She keeps squirming, and he growls, swatting her thigh. She stills.
“Why are we here, kitten?”
“Because you’re mean.”
“Girl, I wouldn’t test me right now.”
Dovewing’s ears flatten, and she presses herself against the ground. “We’re here because I haven’t been listening.”
“I’m trying to take care of you, kitten. When I tell you to do something, it’s for your own good. I told you not to stay up through the Gathering.”
“I missed you.”
“And now you’re exhausted and mouthing off and arguing with everyone.” He doesn’t move to lick her, but he does lighten the pressure on her neck. “I wouldn’t be upset if you couldn’t sleep, but you kept yourself up on purpose.” He sighs. This isn’t fun, but it is his responsibility. “Count to four, alright?” It’s not fair if she can’t keep track, but he wants this to be memorable enough he doesn’t have to bring her here again soon.
“Okay.”
Tigerheart rubs a circle into her leg, then smacks her.
“One.”
“Good girl,” he soothes.
“Two.”
Tigerheart purrs.
“Three.”
“Almost done, Dovey.”
“Four.”
“There. Done.” Tigerheart lets her up. “C’mere, kitten.”
Dovewing sniffs, but slides up against his fur. “I’m sorry, Daddy.”
“I know. I forgive you.” He licks her head. “Daddy wants you to be happy and healthy, kitten, but he needs your help. If you’ve been having trouble sleeping, you need to try your best to get all the sleep you can.” She nods her head weakly. “What’d we learn today, Dovey?”
“I need to listen to you.” She starts to knead at him. “And I will.”
“Good.”
“What’s wrong, kitten?”
Dovewing’s ears twist. “You know what’s wrong.”
He nips her scruff. “Is my kitten sore?”
“Yes, Daddy.”
“Good.” Tigerheart nuzzles her, then bunts his temple against hers. “Maybe it will remind you to behave.”
“I’m sure it will,” she mutters.
“Go on patrol, Dovey. We’ll have plenty of time together later.”
“You’re hurt.”
“I’m fine.”
“Don’t lie to me, Dovewing.”
“I’m not.” Not that I owe you honesty, she adds to herself. “Seriously.”
“You winced earlier.”
Because my legs still ache, she thinks. “I slept weird, I don’t know.”
“He’s hurting you.”
Only because I deserved it, she thinks, but doesn’t say, because that’s a hard thing to explain and Bumblestripe isn’t worth that, anyway. “Bumblestripe, I am happy with him, and I don’t want to have this conversation.”
He looks like he doesn’t believe her.
"Shit." Dovewing looks angrily after the mouse. "I can't believe---"
"Tigerheart wouldn't want to know you said that," Ivypool purrs. "Maybe I should tell him."
The awkwardness of the words is worthwhile, when Dovewing's ears swivel. "What happened to, 'I don't want to know about it?'"
"Then he started living here. You know you're, like, the opposite of subtle, right?" Ivypool flicks Dovewing's nose with her tail. "Consider this retribution for trying to set me up with Fernsong for so long."
Tigerheart jerks his tail, and Dovewing pounces. She lands on it, holding it between her paws and purring.
“Kitten, how was your day?”
Squaring to pounce again, Dovewing wiggles. “Good, mostly.”
“Mostly?”
“Just—” Dovewing jumps, clutching his tail in her jaw. She mutters something, but it’s muffled.
“Ow! Dovey, easy with your teeth. You’re going to strip Daddy’s tail.”
“Sorry.” She spits it out, rolling onto her back, batting her paws in the air playfully. “Got excited.”
“I can tell.” He bends down to lick her cheek. “What’s got you all worked up?”
She purrs, twisting her head back, and he licks her throat. “I just like spending time with you, Daddy.”
Tigerheart stays over her, their belly fur brushing. “Yeah? You miss me, kitten?”
Dovewing nods, and Tigerheart nips her underside. One of her paws bats over his ears.
“Be a good girl,” he hums. “Stay still.” He reaches up, licking her cheek. “Daddy wants to play with you.”
Tigerheart licks down her throat. As he shifts down, pressing kisses into her stomach, he can feel her hind legs shake, threatening to kick at him.
“Dovey,” he purrs. “You know how much I love you, right?”
“Ivypool says you’ve been swearing.”
Dovewing drops her ears. “Maybe.”
“Now, kitten, you know better.” He licks the top of her head. “Those are grown-up words that precious, sweet, pretty little kittens like you shouldn’t be using.” Tigerheart sighs, in mock consternation. “What am I going to do with you, Dovey? I can’t have you smarting off on me.”
He nips her shoulder, and she mewls. “I’m sorry.”
“I’m sure you are. But you’ve been sorry for a while.” Teasing, he pins her tail to the ground. “I think you need to be reminded of my expectations.” Tigerheart nips her ear, just firm enough to make her squeak. “Let’s think. How am I going to remind you kittens use nice words?”
“I remember!”
“You aren’t acting like you remember.” He lets her tail go, only to push her onto her back. “If I were you, Dovey, I’d be my on my best behavior until I made up my mind.”
“Want to share prey with me?” Bumblestripe asks, offering out a squirrel.
Dovewing shakes her head. “Sorry, Bumblestripe. I’m busy.” She saunters off to brush up against Tigerheart. “Are we still going hunting?”
Tigerheart licks the top of her head. They haven’t even bothered hiding their relationship — after one night, Dovewing was curled in a nest with him. “Mhm. You ready?”
Dovewing flicks her tail, a smidgen of irritaiton. “Yes.”
“Chin up. We’ll be back before you know it.”
Bumblestripe narrows his eyes. They’re definitely not going hunting, and he doesn’t like the reserve in Dovewing’s voice. Why is she even going if she’s so eager to get back?
He watches them leave, waiting just long enough that they won’t hear him as he follows their scent trail. Whatever is going on, he has to make sure Dovewing is safe.
As he follows their scent trail, he keeps his ears pricked, eventually latching on to the sound of Dovewing’s voice. She’s distressed, a nonverbal, low keen humming in his bones. Bumblestripe slips through the bushes, desperate to find her.
“Please don’t make me.” There’s a growl, and then she adds, “Daddy.”
Bumblestripe calms himself, worried his bristling fur will rustle leaves. What’s Dovewing doing with a tom like him?
Dovewing yelps just as he’s composed, and he has to start again. She deserves to be treated like a queen, not toyed with like a piece of prey. As her whines grow more distressed, he can’t take it, and he bursts forward, barrelling through the branches until he comes to them.
“Get off of her!”
Dovewing and Tigerheart both freeze. Tigerheart is pinning her tail to the ground, and there’s a sticky substance on her stomach he recognizes as mouse bile.
Tigerheart’s eyes darken. “Go sit there, kitten.” He lets Dovewing up, and she crouches in a patch of grass.
“That’s not what I meant.”
“Should’ve been more specific,” Tigerheart sneers. His fur is raised, and Dovewing’s eyes are trained on him.
“Dovewing,” Bumblestripe says. “You don’t have to listen to him.”
Her eyes shift to Bumblestripe, but she stays silent.
“If he’s hurting you, we can protect you. I’ll protect you.”
“I don’t need that.” She looks back to Tigerheart. “I’m well taken care of.”
Tigerheart purrs. “Damn right you are.”
“I heard you,” Bumblestripe insists. “He hurt you.” He takes a few steps towards her. “He shouldn’t do that. Come back with me.” Bumblestripe reaches to touch his nose to her shoulder, the scent of mouse bile permeating the air. It’s humiliating, and Bumblestripe wants to wash it off her now.
“Don’t fucking touch her,” Tigerheart hisses.
Bumblestripe bares his teeth, then licks her.
“Kitten, be a good girl for Daddy and close your eyes.”
As soon as she scrunches her eyes shut, Tigerheart tackles him.
It’s an embarrassingly short fight, but Bumblestripe gives it his all. Even when Tigerheart has him pinned, he struggles to escape. For her, he needs to win.
But he can’t, and when Tigerheart threatens to bite his scruff, he yields.
“We’re done, Dovey. You can look.”
Dovewing opens her eyes, creeping to Tigerheart’s side. He wraps his tail over her.
“Did you win, Daddy?”
“I was fighting for you. Of course I did.”
Bumblestripe growls. “So was I.”
“You were fighting for yourself.” Tigerheart bares his teeth at Bumblestripe, then nuzzles Dovewing’s head. “I’ll take care of you in a moment, princess.”
“She’s coming with me.”
“Feel free to ask her.”
Bumblestripe meets Dovewing’s eeys. “Please, Dovewing. You deserve better. Come back with me, we’ll figure all this out—”
“No.” Bumblestripe blinks in shock. “I’m happy with Tigerheart, Bumblestripe, and I’m not interested in you.”
“That isn’t what this is about! I’m trying to help you.”
“I don’t need help,” she hisses.
“What do you call this, then?”
Dovewing hesitates. Tigerheart licks her ear. “Someone needed to learn to use nice words.” She nods.
Bumblestripe bristles. “You’re a grown cat, Dovewing. You can use whatever words you want.”
“Good kittens don’t swear,” Tigerheart says. “And my Dovey likes being a good kitten.”
She nods again, rubbing her temple against his cheek. “And it wouldn’t be an effective punishment if I liked it.”
“He’s not supposed to punish you!”
Dovewing tilts her head. “What’s he supposed to do when I don’t listen to him, then? Rules have to have consequences.”
“You’re not supposed to have rules!”
“I can’t…” She huffs. “Daddy, I’m tired.”
“Don’t whine, kitten.” Tigerheart pulls her under his chin, flicking his tail. She grabs the tip, trapping it between her paws, and he repeats the little game. “What Dovewing is trying to get at, Bumblestripe, is that she wants me to be her daddy, which means I do get to make the rules.”
Dovewing seems fully occupied, playing with Tigerheart’s tail, but she still nods.
“Now. I have a kitten to take care of, so I suggest you leave, because if you don’t, you’ll get to feel my claws.” He curls his lips back in a threatening, sinister, mockery of a grin. “Dovey doesn’t like fighting, so I promise you don’t want to find out how fast I’ll end things.”
Bumblestripe hesitates, then dips his head. “This isn’t over,” he mutters, but it’s too late. They aren’t even looking at him anymore.
It isn’t over, he promises. He’ll be back.
Once Bumblestripe has left, Tigerheart nudges Dovewing onto her back.
“I’m cleaning you up, kitten. This wasn’t meant to last this long.” The taste makes him gag, but better than her suffering more. “What do you want to do?”
“What do you mean?”
“Your mouth probably tastes pretty gross, so we can fix that, or cuddle here, or go back to camp — whatever you’d like.”
Dovewing closes her eyes, considering, and Tigerheart continues to groom her, maintaining the connection. “I want you to cuddle me, Daddy.”
He purrs. “Of course, kitten.”
She churrs, snuggling against him.
“I know that was a lot, lovey-Dovey, but I want to finish out on the punishment.” He nuzzles the back of her neck. He feels bad, making her talk about this when she’s suffered more than he meant, but it won’t feel right to leave it. “What have we learned?”
“Good kittens don’t use ugly words.”
“Very good.” Tigerheart continues to wraps his tongue over her. “Alright. Now — about Bumblestripe.”
“He’s mean.”
“I know, kitten. I want you to stay away from him. You don’t have to be rude or anything, just avoid converstaions, okay?”
“Okay, Daddy.”
“Good.” He doesn’t like pivoting between reward and punishment, but she deserves a treat. “Dovey, how’d you feel about going on an adventure soon? Daddy wants to spend some time away from everyone, so you just have to worry about being his kitten.”
“Yes, please.” Dovewing licks his chest. “That sounds nice.”
“I thought so. We’ll have to see what Squirrelflight assigns us to, but if not tomorrow, as soon as I can.”
“Why are we doing this, again?”
“Someone has to.” Fernsong rubs cheeks with her. “It’s not like they could have known Rowanstar was going to get all serious about ShadowClan.”
“Fernsong. Listen to me very closely. We are going off to find my sister and her mate, who disappeared very close to the edge of Clan territory. Do you understand what that means?”
“They’re…having sex?”
“I wish.” Ivypool shakes her head. “There’s a one hundred percent chance we walk in on them doing something weird.” Fernsong wrinkles his nose. “Fern. She calls him Daddy.”
“Shit. Like, as a nickname thing, or in, like…”
“Yes. Like that.”
“So…I mean…obviously it’s not our business.”
“Right.”
“They can do what they want.”
“Right.”
“And I’m not going to judge them for it.”
“Right.”
“Do we really have to get them? I mean, a majority of cats are present, right? Like…do they really need Tigerheart?”
“This is why I didn’t want to go alone. I knew I’d back out.”
“You didn’t have to tell me.”
“You deserve to know.” Ivypool’s tail swings as they walk.
“So, is this why Bumblestripe…”
“Yep.”
“And why they never use each other’s names?”
“I assume so.”
“And how do you know all of this?”
“Unwittingly.”
“Alright, kitten. Show me what you’ve got.”
“Found a feather ‘n’ this shell.” Dovewing looks up at him with wide green eyes, like newleaf grass. “Do you like them, Daddy?”
“I love them.” He licks her cheek. “Nothing will ever be as beautiful as you, kitten, but these are close.”
She churrs, brushing against his jaw. “Daddy thinks I’m beautiful?”
Tigerheart grins. He’s so happy they finally had a chance to spend this time together. Dovewing gets to sink down fully, and all he has to do is be her Daddy. No worrying about the Kin, no keeping an ear out for others: they just get to be them.
“Daddy thinks you’re a princess,” he says. “You’re so beautiful he can’t stop looking at you.”
Dovewing keens softly, and he starts to step against her.
There are footsteps.
Tigerheart curses out the stars he could have just thanked.
“Tigerheart.”
“Ivypool. Fernsong.” He nuzzles Dovewing’s head. “You’re a smart cat, Ivypool. I assume—”
“Yes, I know. You’re having a day together to, uh, whatever it is you do.”
“We played prey and hunter,” Dovewing says. “And—”
“Not now, kitten.” Tigerheart gives her a lick. “Ivypool, this better be important.”
“Your leader summoned you back.”
“Fuck.”
“That’s a bad word.”
“Indeed it is.” He licks her again. “Frustrating end to our day, Dovey. We’re going home now.”
Her ears droop. “We were gonna look for snails.”
“I know. Another time — there are plenty of snails closer to camp.” He presses their foreheads together. Ivypool is very pointedly Not Looking. “Be a big girl and try not to pout.”
“Fine. But only ‘cause others are here.”
“Right. Let’s head out.”
Tigerheart is panicking. Dovewing is upset, obviously, but if she comes up from this too fast, she’ll be a wreck.
And Ivypool is here.
She looks back at him. “I’d leave you alone, but apparently you’re a flight risk.”
Tigerheart sighs. Dovewing’s tail drags. “I can hear water,” she mutters. “We could—”
“Dovey, please.” He tries so hard not to do this around others, especially Ivypool. But she doesn’t come up easy, and he doesn’t know how to force it without leaving her so distressed it isn’t worth it.
“She’s gonna be like this, isn’t she?”
He nods.
“I’ll try to pretend I’m literally anywhere else.”
Dovewing glances from Tigerheart to Ivypool. “You don’t want to be here?”
“What Ivypool means, kitten, is that she didn’t want to interrupt our adventure.” Fuck. He has to get her out of this, without upsetting her, and fast. “Dovey, weren’t you telling me about something you and Briarlight were doing?”
“Huh? Um…yeah! So Hazeltail and Briarlight were on a walk, and…”
As she keeps going, Tigerheart breathes out.
“Are we not supposed to talk to her?” Fernsong whispers.
Tigerheart flicks his tail. “You can. I mean, she’s…”
“I…don’t think I mind?” He laughs nervously. “I thought I would, but…”
Tigerheart can understand that. It’s not like what it sounds, especially if Ivypool were the one to explain it. He taps Dovewing on the shoulder. “Slow down, please? Fernsong wants to hear your story.”
“Okay.” She looks at Fernsong. “Are you up to date with the whole medicine den thing?”
“I don’t think so. You mentioned Briarlight?”
“She’s more of a lead-in, really.” She starts over, then keeps going — Tigerheart wishes he had the time to listen to her properly, instead of just snippets, but he’s got a lot on his mind.
Dovewing bunts against him. “I’m hungry, Daddy.”
There’s something innocent about her expression that warms his heart. She’s hungry, she wants him to fix it, and she trusts him enough that’s all she’s worried about. Still, they’re no longer spending the day alone. “We’ll be back to camp soon.”
“But I’m hungry now!”
“Kitten, you can wait.”
“No, I can’t!”
Ivypool looks back to them. “We can hunt.”
“Ivypool cares about me.” Dovewing jutts out her chin impudently, and Tigerheart growls.
Today was supposed to be a nice day. They played mossball until Dovewing was tired, napping together in the pleasantly warm sun, and he was going to take her to hunt down different snails. Now, she’s overwrought, mouthing off, and Ivypool and Fernsong are here, so he doesn’t even know how to give her the reassurance she wants.
“Daddy,” Dovewing whines. “I want food now!”
Well.
No way around it now.
“Enough! Dovey, you ate earlier. We are not stopping to hunt.” He puts on his firmest voice, the one that makes her shrink in on herself. He hates it, but she’s depending on him to be an adult who can take care of her, and that means he has to know when to put his foot down.
“But Daddy—”
“If the next words out of your mouth are not an apology for implying I don’t care about you, you’re going to spend a hell of a lot of time silent at my feet.” She looks like she’s going to challenge him, so he adds, “And Dovey, I really don’t think you want your sister to see what will happen to you if you keep back-talking me.”
It’s an almost empty threat — he doesn’t want to make Dovewing bend down for a punishment right now, but if really he has to, he will.
Dovewing stays quiet.
“I’m sorry for her behavior. Let’s keep going.”
Fernsong tries to pick up a thread of conversation, and Dovewing trails afer Tigerheart, sticking close to him, her ears and tail low.
“We really do have time,” Ivypool says. “But I’m sorry if I—”
“You didn’t do anything. Dovewing knows not to get smart with me.”
“‘M sorry,” Dovewing mutters.
“I’d rethink that, girl.”
“I’m sorry I said you didn’t care. I know you love me and that you care about me, and it hurts you when I say you don’t.” She licks his jaw. “‘M really sorry, Daddy.”
It’s a good apology, the kind that makes him want to just give her everything she wants.
“I know, kitten. I forgive you.”
They’re nearly back to camp, and he’s made no progress pulling her up.
Great.
“Do you need someone to like…watch her?” Ivypool asks.
“Dovey, you’ll be good and ait for me in our nest, right?”
Ivypool griamces. “Don’t do that. The den’ll be packed at this hour.”
“We can get her something to eat,” Fernsong offers.
“We?”
“You wouldn’t abandon me, would you?”
Ivypool groans.
One conversation. She needs to deal with Dovewing for one conversation.
“What do you want?” Fernsong asks.
“A mouse.” Ivypool isn’t surprised — mouse has been her favorite since they were kits.
He darts off, and Dovewing clings to Ivypool. “‘M trying to be big,” she says. “But I feel stuck. So. Sorry.”
“It’s fine.” She’s owed favors from a lot of ancestors, though. “Does…Tigerheart normally help?”
She nods. “He says I go down easy.”
“What’s that mean?”
“Like…y’know, it’s not hard to sink down. He calls me kitten and that’s it. Coming up, not so much.” Dovewing lies in a loose curve. “It’s not normally a problem.”
“But your plans changed.”
“I wanted to find snails.”
Fernsong returns with a few mice. “One for everyone,” he says. “Dove, you want first pick?”
She grabs one eagerly. “Thanks.”
“Happy to. Ivypool, you?”
Fernsong looks over them, and Ivypool tries to ignore the little flush of heat from his attention. She takes one without thinking about it, and hears a low purr in his chest.
“How’re you doing, Dovewing?”
“You were just here,” she snarks.
“Things change. Maybe Ivypool was mean.”
“She’s not mean to me anymore.” Dovewing washes her face, then settles onto her paws. “Now we’re just friends.”
Ivypool sighs. Fernsong shoots her an apologetic glance, and she wishes she didn’t know she deserves Dovewing’s comments. “I’m sorry about that, Dovewing.”
“It’s alright. We were both young.” Dovewing pauses. “It’s not like I was perfect.” Her ears wiggle. “‘M perfect now, though.”
For a moment, Ivypool is removed from her brain to appreciate this conversation. Her sister is floating in her own headspace while they have a serious conversation about growing up. “Tigerheart tell you that?”
Dovewing nods emphatically. “Every day. Well. No. But a lot.”
“That’s sweet,” Fernsong says. “What else do you do?”
Ivypool glares at him. She doesn’t need to know anything more about what they do.
But Dovewing rolls out onto her back, purring. “Stuff. Normal stuff. Sutff I shouldn’t talk about. Games. Cuddling. Sometimes I can get him to tell me ShadowClan stories. Mostly we just…spend time together. I dunno. What do you and Ivypool do?”
“Dove,” Ivypool says gently. “It’s not…Well…We…”
Dovewing is grinning.
“You’re a brat!” Ivypool hisses. “I can’t believe you’re teasing me right now.”
“I just asked what you did,” Dovewing says. “I didn’t say anything about what you were.”
Fernsong’s ears are half folded from embarrassment.
“Kiss and make up,” Dovewing says. “I’m going to go find Tigerheart.”
“Should we go with her?” Fernsong asks.
“I mean, she used his name. That’s a good sign, right?”
“I’m owed a place in StarClan for that,” Ivypool mutters.
“It wasn’t so bad,” Fernsong says.
“Don’t tell me you’re into that now.
Fernsong wrinkles his nose. “No. But — Dovewing is sweet.”
“She acts like a kit!”
“So? It’s not like it’s harming anyone!”
Ivypool sighs. “It’s just weird. How would you feel if it was Sorrelstripe or Hollytuft?”
Fernsong licks his paw. “The same, probably.” He drags his paw over his face. “If they wanted to let someone else worry for them for a while? I wouldn’t blame them, frankly.”
She rests her head on his shoulders. “Maybe you’re right. It’s just hard to separate that from, like…when it’s just them.”
“I’ll make it easy for you. You’re the only she-cat I want to flirt with.” He purrs, twisting to touch his nose to her cheek. “So you know it’s never like that.”
Tigerheart shifts, looking awkward. “Thank you for, ah, watching Dovewing yesterday.” His ears are held back like he’s embarrassed. “You didn’t have to, but I appreciate it.”
“She’s my friend; I don’t mind spending time with her.”
“I know it’s weird,” Tigerheart continues. “We try not to be like that around others, but…I’m happy she wasn’t saying anything she’d regret, or getting herself scared, or…well, I appreciate it.”
“It’s really no big deal.”
“It is to me. And to Dovewing, although she gets shy talking about it.”
“Besides, it’s not that weird.”
Tigerheart looks confounded. “You don’t need to lie, Fernsong.”
“But I’m not! I mean, I help out in the nursery, and I like playing all those games…”
“Yeah, but you’re not act like…y’know.”
Amused, Fernsong feels his nose twitch. “I thought it would be weird. But — well, maybe it is. But if Dovewing wants to tell me about snails, I’ll let her.”
“She’s really stuck on the snails,” Tigerheart mutters. “I feel bad.”
“I can show you a spot.” Fernsong licks his paw. “My point is — Dovewing is my friend, and seeing her happy, relaxed, and playful? I like that. She can be herself around me.”
“That’s not really herself. Dove is — well, it’s part of her, sometimes. But not all the time. She’s a wonderful cat, with a brilliant mind. sometimes she likes to play, and—”
“That’s not what I meant.” Seeing Tigerheart talk about Dovewing is almost comical for all the love that lights up his face. “All I mean is that…if you want a nice space to look for snails, she doesn’t have to pretend not to be…excited.”
“Thanks, Fernsong. I’ll talk to her.”
“Anytime. Before you go — am I supposed to call her something? Like a nickname, or…?” Fernsong’s nose wrinkles at the idea of calling her kitten. He could say Dovey, but it would sound silly coming from him.
“Dove is fine. Dovewing might upset her, anything else is, well, mine.”
“I’ll do that,” he says. “Thanks.”
“Thank you.”
“I get that you’re not going anywhere,” Ivypool says, staring at Tigerheart with every flicker of intensity she has. “I can’t say I’m thrilled she chose you, but it could be worse.”
“Real vote of confidence.”
“You care about her. But if you hurt her, I don’t care what Clan you’re a part of. I’ll hurt you worse.”
Tigerheart’s eyes light up, and Ivypool feels a chilling sensation she’s learned to associate with finding out more information she didn’t want. “I understand. But Ivypool, what if she wants it?”
Dovewing watches him return from patrol, a special light in her eyes and wriggle in her tail that he knows means she wants to play. Bracing himself, he touches noses with her.
“I missed you, Daddy.”
“I missed you too, kitten. But Dovey, I need you to be a big girl right now, okay? Daddy’s tired.”
She chirrups, licking his jaw. “I’ve noticed. But don’t worry, I don’t want to play.” She starts away, flicking her tail under his chin as she walks, and he sighs, trying to prepare himself for whatever she has planned.
Dovewing leads him outside the warriors’ den. “Lie down.”
“What are you up to, kitten?”
“You’ll see. After you’re clean. Bath-then-bed.”
Tigerheart churrs as she begins to groom him. “Trying to surprise me?”
“It’ll be a good surprise.” Her tone flickers from playful and young to serious and mature, but as long as this is all she wants, he doesn’t mind. “There. Clean.” She jabs him. “Up.”
“Bossy today, are we, Dovey?”
Dovewing just slips inside. “I remade our nest,” she says. “I had a bunch of time today, and the moss was stale, so I thought…maybe I would take care of you this time.”
Tigerheart sinks into the nest. “This is wonderful, Dovey. Come here.”
She nestles against him. “I meant it. No play. Bath. Then. Bed. Tired daddies need sleep, just like tired kittens.”
“Point taken.” Tigerheart curls against her. “You’re my lovey-Dovey, taking care of me.”
Dovewing presses her forehead against his chest. Tigerheart purrs, licking her back. His tail circles her, and her paws are folded against his stomach.
“I love you.”
“Love you more.”
Tigerheart snorts. “I always win this game. Are you sure you want to play?”
“Uhuh. And I’m gonna win this time, ‘cause I love you more.”
“I love you more than all the stars in the sky.”
“I love you more than that.”
“Nope. You’ve got to come up with your own.”
“Then…I love you more than…” Dovewing huffs. “It’s not fair, Daddy. You picked the best one right away.”
“That’s because Daddy loves you most.”
Dovewing licks him a few times. “Cheater.”
“Go to sleep, kitten. It’s past your bedtime.”
Dovewing carries a mouthful of flowers. “I’m gonna decorate you,” she says.
“You are, are you?”
“I’m going to make you pretty.” Her eyes glitter. “Lay down.”
Purring, Tigerheart obliges her. Dovewing tucks the flowers into his fur, focusing on his neck and tail. “Did you bring extra?”
“What for?”
“I think you’d look cute with petals in your fur.”
Dovewing purrs, and he can feel her tail happily swinging back and forth. “You’ll have to get your own flowers.”
Tigerheart sighs. “I suppose I’ll have to wait to make you look like a princess.”
“Yeah. I’m making you look pretty now. You have to wait your turn.”
Her casual joy is affirming. He still remembers her as an exhausted, anxious new warrior, when she was tense enough to break a boulder on her back, and he’ll never tire of her teasing and games now.
“You’ll still do that, right?”
“I will. But I’m not going flower collecting while I’m already covered in flowers.” He turns his head to lick her nose. “Besides, you deserve the freshest, most vibrant, most fragrant flowers I can find.”
Dovewing nuzzles his neck, seemingly giving up on her decorative efforts. “I want purple ones,” she says. “I like purple.”
“I can do purple for you.” With Dovewing now splayed out on top of him, he’s short on movement options that won’t throw her off, but he twines their tails. “Now, kitten. How do I look?”
“Very pretty, Daddy. Almost as pretty as me.”
Brat. She’s lucky she is that cute.
Petals are scattered in Dovewing’s fur.
She’s so beautiful.
Bumblestripe grits his teeth and watches as she rubs against Tigerheart, twining tails with the tom.
He can’t win. No matter what he does, Tigerheart will always have a pretty gift or gesture to distract Dovewing from the truth, and Bumblestripe is tired of fighitng for her. If she wants him to hurt her, fine. He doesn’t care anymore.
“So, Dovey, how are things?”
“Don’t call me that.”
“I thought you liked being a kitten.”
She bares her teeth. “First, Tigerheart’s the only cat who gets to do that, so fuck off.”
“Language,” he taunts.
“Second, I’m — as you so helpfully pointed out — I’m a grown-ass cat who gets to say I don’t like that whenever I want, and third, we’re on a border patrol, so I really don’t think this is a good time!”
“Everything alright back there?”
“Your brother is an asshole.”
Blossomfall snorts. “You really know how to get the girl, huh, Bumblestripe?”
“What happened to being a good little kitten?” he hisses under his breath.
Dovewing wheels on him, so livid he’s half-surprised she doesn’t try to claw him. “I swear on all the stars in the sky, Bumblestripe, if you don’t stop—”
“I don’t see your daddy here to save you,” he sneers. “What exactly are you going to do, Dovewing? Run back to camp crying for him?”
“Fuck you.” Dovewing leaps.
“Careful, kitten. I wouldn’t want you punished on my account.”
Before their scuffle can even get far, Blossomfall and Fernsong pull them apart.
His sister snarls at him, her fur puffed up. “What the fuck, Bumble?”
“She attacked me first!”
“You were harassing her! And you didn’t have to go so hard!”
Bumblestripe is about to argue he didn’t, but then he sees the others past Blossomfall. Fernsong is pressed against Dovewing, licking her soothingly as she trembles.
“Blossomfall, I’m going to take her back to camp.”
“Yeah, we’ll finish up.”
Fernsong nudges Dovewing. “C’mon, Dove. We can go sun ourselves on the rocks.”
“When did they get so close?” Bumblestripe wonders.
“If you’d pull your head out of your ass for a heartbeat, you’d know they’ve been friends for a while!”
What does Fernsong have that Bumblestripe doesn’t?
“I’m telling Squirrelflight not to assign you to patrols with Dovewing.”
“She probably shouldn’t be patrolling, if that’s how she reacts.”
“There hasn’t been a battle with WindClan in seasons, which is why she came with us. She wants to get more comfortable, something you’d also know if you actually talked to her instead of fantasizing about the idea of her!” Blossomfall groans. “She’s been working hard, but you just had to antagonize her because she won’t sleep with you.”
“Again, she attacked me! I wasn’t the aggressor!”
“For fuck’s sake — if Dovewing attacked you, you deserved it!”
Bumblestripe gives up. It’s obvious Blossomfall has picked a side.
She doesn’t say anything for the rest of the patrol, and he trails after her. He didn’t mean to startle Dovewing like that — he’s not so self-absorbed as to not know she struggled with conflict. But the Great Battle was over a year ago, and he doesn’t understand why she would attack him if she wasn’t ready for a fight.
But it’s not like Blossomfall cares.
When they get back to camp, Fernsong and Dovewing are on the rocks, joined by Tigerheart. He jumps down, striding straight to Bumblestripe.
“If you talk to Dovewing — if you look at Dovewing — I will tear you to shreds,” he hisses.
Blossomfall watches him leave. “I don’t know what’s going on between you three, but if there’s anyone to lash out at, it’s him.”
“Thank you for staying with her, Fernsong.”
“Happy to. If you want me to give Bumblestripe a good clawing for you, Dove, just let me know.”
Dovewing snorts. “Thanks, Fernsong.”
After he leaves, Tigerheart begins to groom her. “How are you doing, kitten?”
“I’ve been better.” She closes her eyes, purring. “I’m getting better.”
“Good.” He bunts her gently. “I’m proud of you.”
“I feel like you’re not supposed to be. I swore at him and then gave myself another episode attacking him.” She leans into his touch. “I’m not supposed to do any of that.”
“I can’t say I’m thrilled you were upset,” Tigerheart agrees. “But that wasn’t your fault. He wasn’t listening when you told him to back down. I don’t want you to let someone hurt you if you’re backed in a corner.”
“I mean, I could have ignored him, or—“
“You didn’t do anything wrong,” Tigerheart affirms. He rests his head over hers. “You were already trying something very brave. I would never hold that against you.”
“Thanks.” Dovewing’s voice is muffled against his fur. “I’m not sorry I swore at him, just so you know.”
“Eh. I can live with that. Sounds like he deserved it, and I wasn’t there to do it for you.” Dovewing giggles. “Actually, Dovey, you have my encouragement to curse at him whenever you want.”
“I thought I wasn’t supposed to talk to him, Daddy.”
“You’re not. But if he talks to you? Go wild. Just tell me about it after, so we can laugh.” He licks her neck. “My kitten has claws for a reason.”
Bumblestripe slips to her side the instant Tigerheart leaves.
“I don’t want to talk to you.”
“Look. I’m sorry about earlier.” He cautiously sets his tail near her. “I…messed up bad.”
“You don’t get to say those things to me. Ever.”
“I know. And I’m sorry.” He’s about to continue when Tigerheart’s shadow falls over them.
“Bumblestripe,” he growls. “I believe I warned you.”
Without another word, without giving Bumblestripe a moment, he slashes his claws over Bumblestripe’s muzzle.
Dovewing flinches away, and Tigerheart churrs softly. “I’m sorry, Dovey,” he says. “I know you don’t like that.”
She nods, tucking deep into him, hiding her face in his flank.
“What the fuck?” Bumblestripe hisses.
Dovewing peaks forward. “Daddy told you to leave me alone.”
“That’s right, kitten. And I wish I didn’t have to reinforce the warning in front of you.”
Bumblestripe shoves down his frustrations. Dovewing is absorbed in Tigerheart, as he coos about “protecting” her, and anything he does will only make the situation worse.
That doesn’t make it easy to walk away.
"Dovewing says you've been bothering her," Ivypool says.
Bumblestripe looks anxious. "I mean...we've had some arguments."
"Mm. I've heard you used some very private information against her."
He narrows his eyes. "Nothing that I was told was private."
"Lose the act, Bumblestripe. It takes an ounce of common sense to see through that."
"Fine. Maybe I did. They certainly didn't act very private around me."
She has no doubt that's true. She also has no doubt he had the chance to back away and didn't take it. "Look. Dovewing is perfectly capable of defending herself. She was, after all, mentored by Lionblaze. But considering she's one of fucking saviors of the Clans, I think she's earned not having to do that. So take this as a warning to leave her alone, or I'll make you."
“I heard you got in a fight with Dovewing.”
“Briar, I don’t need another lecture.”
“Wasn’t planning on it.” Well. Not first. Dovewing didn’t want to talk about what happened, so she has to get it out of her brother. Then she can decide what to do. Probably yell at him: he’s been weird about Dovewing lately. “I don’t even know what happened.”
“She attacked me, and then completely freaked out, and everyone is blaming me!”
“Yeah, I got that much. But I mean, c’mon, you don’t expect me to eve live she attacked you out of the blue, do you?”
Bumblestripe sighs. “Look, I was being a dick. I’ll admit that, okay? I was being a dick, I know.”
“Just tell me what happened.”
He sighs, resting his head on her shoulders. “I…did you know she and Tigerheart are, like, weird?”
“Something like that.” Ivypool had sworn Briarlight to secrecy, but she had told her.
“Yeah — it’s fucked up if you ask me, but whatever. Anyway, I was teasing her, I hit a nerve, and she swore at me. Which, like, I’m just so…” He shakes his head. “I was trying to be her friend, and she treated me like I was irrational for just wanting to know she was okay, so — and I know this was a dick move — I pointed out she wasn’t allowed to swear, and, well, yeah.”
Briarlight has her doubts that’s all there is to the story, but at least she has answers. “If you make a dick move, you can’t really get mad at her for responding like that. Have you tried apologizing?”
“Oh, I’ve tried to. No one will let me within a fox length of her.”
“Then she doesn’t want to talk to you.”
Bumblestripe shakes his head, ruffling her fur. “Nope. That’s Tigerheart’s doing. He said she wasn’t allowed to talk to me — I bet he told their friends, and they’re all in on it.”
Because that doesn’t sound paranoid.
“I mean, you can’t know that—“
“Oh, but I can. Tigerheart told me.”
Briarlight sighs. “Look, Bumble, if you can’t apologize, you probably just have to wait it out.”
“Dovewing was hurt,” Jayfeather says. “I assume you want to see her?”
“Yes.” Tigerheart feels numb. “Is she okay?”
“She’ll be fine. Mostly, she’s just shaken up.”
Tigerheart nods. “Thank you.”
He follows Jayfeather into the medicine den, where Dovewing is curled in a nest, herbs smeared over her side.
“Dove?”
“I’m fine. Promise.”
“You’re spending the night here,” Jayfeather says.
“Can I stay with her?”
“I won’t ask why a ShadowClan warrior wants to nest with a ThunderClan one,” Jayfeahter says. “But anyway, no. We don’t have that kind of space.”
Dovewing looks up, pleading. “I’d like him to stay.”
“You’ll see him in the morning.”
“Please?”
Jayfeather huffs, about to argue, but Briarlight chirrups. “Jay, I can sleep in the warriors den for a night. Let them sleep together.”
“Briar, you can stay. I’m not kicking you out of your nest so that Tigerheart can—”
She bunts against him. “Trust me, neither of them will sleep if you don’t let them stay together. And I’m pretty sure you don’t want Dovewing to try to wander into the warriors den in the middle of the night.”
He sighs. “Fine. I guess I’ll see you in the morning.”
She purrs. “Have a good night, you.”
“I’m sure I will,” Jayfeather grumbles, but Tigerheart ignores him, settling around Dovewing. With Jayfeather’s pricked ears, he can’t call her what he wants, so he settles for just purring loudly, trying to pour his love into the vibration.
“I’m okay,” she repeats. “It’s not that bad.”
“Jayfeather wants you to spend the night.”
“Because he’s worried I’ll have — a bad episode. Not because I’m all that hurt.” She nuzzles his side. “It was just a hunting patrol gone wrong, and I’m not that hurt, and…”
“You’re very calm.”
“Alderheart talked Jayfeather into giving me a bunch of poppy seeds and juniper berries. I think it’s cancelling out all the fear so I just sound normal.”
Tigerheart churrs, in part to cover his worry. “Well, get some rest, Dovey. I’ll keep you safe now.”
"Did you forget," Dovewing hisses, "that I could still kick your ass in my sleep?"
Bumblestripe is cowed, his ears flat and his tail low. "Dovewing, I---"
"I'm so done with you," she growls. "What do I need to do to get you to leave me alone?" His fur sits in her claws, and while she didn't draw blood, that's clearly an act of restraint and mercy on her part. "If it's shred your ear, let's fucking go."
"I wasn't trying to bother you."
The adrenaline is fading, and her legs start to shake. "Fuck off, Bumblestripe. I've been telling you what I want for moons. If you didn't want to bother me, you shouldn't have bothered me." She turns away from him, brushing against Tigerheart and closing her eyes. "Can we go back to sleep?" she asks, in a softer voice.
"Absolutely," he purrs.
She’s getting worse. She can feel it.
It was just a hunting patrol, just a fight over a squirrel, and she wasn’t even that hurt, but it’s got her shaken up, struggling to just leave camp without looking over her shoulder constantly.
No one wants to tell her she’s getting worse, but she doesn’t need them to. She knows.
"When you treat me like that," Dovewing says, "I don't freeze up."
"So...you want me to treat you like my kitten when you're having an episode?"
"I'm always your kitten."
"That you are, Dovey, but you know what I mean. You want me to tell you you're very brave, and that Daddy loves you and is proud of you, and that he'll protect you and take care of you."
Dovewing wiggles. "Yes, please."
"I can do that."
“Go away, Bumblestripe.” Dovewing is lounging against Tigerheart’s side, the air cool but not so cold as to make it uncomfortable.
“I wanted to apologize. To Dovewing.”
“Funny story.”
“I’m serious.”
“And I’m the leader of WindClan. Go away, Bumblestripe.”
Bumblestripe’s tail lashes with frustration. “Dovewing, I—“
Tigerheart growls. “Final warning.”
“You can’t control who she talks to!”
He snorts. “I absolutely can. She’s not allowed to talk to you. There. Done. Stop trying.”
“That’s bullshit.”
“Don’t push this, Bumblestripe. Dovewing is almost asleep. I’d hate to rouse her.”
“Dovewing is one of our strongest fighters.”
Squirrelflight growls. “Dovewing is struggling to go on a border control! She shuts down if you playfight with her. She’ll be a danger to herself and others if you make her fight in a battle! N0t to mention, being in what we know will be a bloody battle is the opposite of what she needs!”
The conflict is hitting her hard. After the Great Battle, Dovewing quickly deteriorated. She started having episodes during fights, panicking and shutting down. Nothing else is wrong — she’s just terrified. And with battle pacing their borders, the young warrior is a wreck. She insists she can handle hunting patrols, but Squirrelflight only assigns her with at least one cat from her maara. She worries the others won’t understand.
Bramblestar sighs. “Sorry, sorry, you’re right. It just feels like we’re leaving behind a resource.”
“Dovewing is a cat, not a prey-rich strip of territory to squabble over. Her fighting skills don’t matter — she doesn’t want to go.”
“I know. I’m sorry, Squirrel. I’m just nervous.”
Squirrelflight feels her gaze soften. “I’m nervous too. I just…it’s hard to see her like this, and I don’t want to make it worse.”
“Fernsong, can I ask a favor?”
“What…kind of favor?”
“Has to do with Dove.” Tigerheart curls his tail, as if he’s withholding something. “Won’t fault you for saying no, it’s a bit of an ask.”
“Can I…know what it is?”
“We’ve discovered — when she has episodes, letting her relax, as, uh, as a kitten, gets her feeling better faster and for longer. And so I was looking for someone to help her with that during the battle.”
“Because she’ll be anxious.”
“Exactly. Really, no pressure. I just thought I’d ask.”
“What exactly am I agreeing to?”
“Just…keep an eye on her? Tell her everything is going to be okay, make sure she eats, tell her to get some sleep, that kind of thing.”
“I can do that.”
“Thank you, Fernsong. Seriously. I’ll let her know — she might be fine, by the way.”
“It’s really nothing. She’s my friend. Anything I need to know?”
“She comes up hard. If you want to wait for me to do it, don’t worry about that. But you don’t need to worry about rules or anything — I’m not worried about if she decides to swear right now. I just want to make sure she’s taken care of.”
Fernsong churrs. “I can do that. Don’t worry about us, Tigerheart. We’ll be fine.”
“He’s going to be fine,” Dovewing says. “He’s not — he’s not going to die.”
“He’ll be okay,” Fernsong affirms.
“This isn’t like before.” She flicks her tail. “It’s just a battle.”
Fernsong licks Dovewing’s head. He wasn’t alive for the Great Battle, but he still knows about it. He remembers how the grief stayed sharp, and Dovewing hasn’t changed. As long as he’s known her, she’s hated fighting.
“I’m really, really scared.” Her voice is small.
“I’m scared too,” Fernsong admits. “But they can take care of themselves.”
“Cats still die.”
Fernsong sighs, pulling her in. “Tigerheart promised he’d come back, didn’t he? Do you think he would break a promise to you?”
“No.”
“So he’ll come back. There.”
Fernsong can pratically see Dovewing let herself be comforted by that. Oh.
Oh.
She purrs, leaning against him and closing her eyes. “Okay, Fern.”
He gets it now.
Dovewing bolts for him, pressing her face into his chest. “You’re back!” she chirps.
“Of course I’m back. I promised you I was coming back, didn’t I?”
“Yeah, but…”
“I’ll always come back to you, Dovey. Promise.” He means it. He wasn’t fighting for his Clan, he was fighting for the sake of ShadowClan. If they had won, he couldn’t have stayed. Not when Dovewing is here.
“You’re hurt.” She licks at a cut on his flank.
“Well. I can’t promise to not get hurt.” He nuzzles her head. “But it’s just a scratch. I’m alright.”
“You’re going to see Jayfeather, right?”
“Of course I am.” Tigerheart runs his tail over her back. “But they have others to see first. Let’s go lie down.”
Dovewing clings to his side, and when they settle, she grooms him, her ears twisted with anxiety.
“Did Fernsong stay with you, Dovey?”
“Yeah.” She nuzzles him. “I know you asked him. But I appreciate it.”
“I knew you’d worry, and I didn’t want you to be alone.”
“My Dovey,” Tigerheart purrs. “Are you going to be good for Daddy, kitten?”
Dovewing nods emphatically.
“Alright then.” He licks across her cheek. “What does my kitten want?”
“You.”
“Well, you have me,” he churrs. “On your back.” Tigerheart runs his nose over her throat. “Let’s make kitten smell like me.”
She wiggles happily as he presses his face over her, and he can’t help but throw in the occasional lick. She is his, and he wants to mark her like that.
Bumblestripe’s pawsteps break through. He looks at them, ears swinging out. “I — fuck. This wasn’t intentional.”
Dovewing has already sprung to her feet.
“Daddy,” she purrs, wrapping herself around Tigerheart, her tail tucked under his chin. “Why does he keep following us?”
Tigerheart licks behind her ear, not breaking eye-contact with Bumblestripe. “I think he’s jealous, kitten.”
“Of what?” She pauses her winding to glance at Bumblestripe. “Does he want a daddy?”
“Silly. He’s jealous of me.” Tigerheart licks Dovewing’s scruff, then reaches around, nuzzling her throat. She twists her head back, and, muzzle at her throat, eyes still on Bumblestripe, Tigerheart says, “Such a shame you’re my kitten.”
Bumblestripe’s claws flex once, twice, and a third time, but then he droops. “I’m leaving,” he says. “I’m gone.”
“Good,” Tigerheart snarls.
Dovewing wriggles under him.
"You okay?"
"Scared."
Tigerheart furrows his brow, confused. "Scared of what, kitten?"
"I don't like the storm."
"That's new," he murmurs, but he licks the back of her head. "You want to stay here, then?"
She nods. "You're safe."
He purrs. "That's right, Dovey. I'll always keep you safe."
She churrs, closing her eyes and tangling her claws in her fur. “Keep holding me,” she murmurs. “I like that.”
“My Dovey.” Tigerheart holds her tight. “I can do that forever.”
“You’ve got a hunting patrol, kitten.”
“Don’t want to.”
“I know. But you have to.” He runs his jaw over her head. “Big, brave Dovey, I know you can do this.”
She rocks nervously, and Tigerheart wonders if he can come up with an excuse. If he had thought ahead, he wouldn’t have let her sink so deep.
“Will you come?”
“Daddy’s going to stay, kitten. Warm and dry, so when you get back, you can come right here.” He licks her. “And when the rain stops, we’ll go look for snails.”
“Really?”
“Yes, but you have to go on this hunting patrol first.”
Dovewing sniffs. “Okay. I can do this.” She shifts under him, taking a deep breath, her voice taking on the steeled quality of Dovewing-the-warrior. “I can do this.”
“Okay, done.” Dovewing flicks her ears, trying to get the water out. “Let me in.”
“Sure, kitten.” Tigerheart makes space for her, not even complaining that she’s soaked. “Did you catch anything?”
“Just a vole.” She nuzzles his chest, breathing his familiar scent deep, and letting herself embrace the moment. “Nothing great.”
“Daddy is still proud of you,” he says, kissing the top of her head. “We can take a nap now.”
Tigerheart looks awkward. “I — have a request.”
Squirrelflight dips her head.
“I don’t…want to call more attention to it, but Dovewing is struggling right now. She won’t say it, but”
“I’ve noticed. She follows the three of you around like a lost kit.” Even as they speak, Dovewing is squished between Fernsong and Ivypool.
“Yeah, we’re…well, I just — I know she wants to go on patrols, but she’s…unpredictable. If you could just try to make sure her patrol leaders are understanding?”
Squirrelflight holds back a laugh. “Trust me, Tigerheart. I’m looking out for her. I try to assign her with at least one of you anyway, but…I’m also putting an extra cat on those patrols. If she can’t do them, that’s fine.”
Tigerheart sags with relief. “Thank you, Squirrelflight. I’ll catch twice as much to make up for it.”
She churrs. “I hope you’re working as hard as you can already,” she teases. “But don’t worry about it. What’s the point of having a Clan if we don’t take care of one another?”
“Bumblestripe is stressing her out,” Tigerheart says. “She’s…jumpy.” He doesn’t mind. Dovewing is his kitten, and he will always take care of her. But he doesn’t like that she’s coming to him scared, instead of excited. “I mean, it’s not just him, but…”
“But he’s the most fixable.”
“Exactly.” Tigerheart sighs. “Hypothetically.” As far as he knows, Bumblestripe is finally giving Dovewing the space she asked for. He’s just…angry.
“Anything I can do?”
“Keep an eye on her? She’s been spooked a few times by normal things, and she…well, the way we’ve been handling it is…” He flicks his ears, trying to convey meaning wordlessly. Fernsong nods in understanding.
“I can do that.”
Dovewing yawns, then snuggles deeper into Tigerheart’s embrace.
She’s going to have a good day today. No episodes, no freezes, just a normal day.
She just needs to know she can.
“I’m not hungry,” Dovewing protests. He knows she’s not — bad episodes make her stomach hurt. But she needs to eat anyway.
“I know, Dovey. But Daddy is asking you to eat.”
She shakes her head, and Tigerheart sighs, nuzzling her.
“Why not, kitten?”
“It’s too much.”
If it wouldn’t shake her out of her space, undoing her hard work calming down, Tigerheart would showering her in praise for communicating. “Lovey-Dovey, what if Daddy tore it up for you? Then you could take it one bite at a time.”
“I’m still not hungry.”
“Let’s try it.”
Tigerheart takes the mouse, ripping it into chunks. Dovewing watches suspiciously.
“Okay, kitten. Eat your mouse.”
She scarfs down a few bites, and he exhales. She’s been freezing more and more, and she can’t skip that many meals. He’d tear nine mice open if it got her to eat.
“I’m done, Daddy!”
“And you ate it all!” he praises. Tigerheart licks her cheek. “Good job, Dovey.”
She purrs, and he wishes he could steal her away forever. Just the two of them, happy and with nothing hanging over their heads.
“Walk with me?” Briarlight asks.
Dovewing falters. “Not that I don’t like spending time with you, Briar, but I’m not exactly…”
“You’re fine. Let’s go.” Briarlight hurries out of camp, forcing Dovewing to trot to keep up with her. “It’s been a while since we’ve spent time together. You’re not abandoning me for Tigerheart, are you?”
Dovewing’s ears swing. “I’m sorry, Briarlight. I’m not trying to. It’s just been…”
“A lot.” Briarlight’s aware. She can see how much Dovewing is struggling — hell, she knows how many nights she’s so desperate for sleep she begs Alderheart to give her something. “I care about you, Dovewing. I want to be there for you.”
The grey warrior’s whiskers twitch. Briarlight wonders if she should play her cards.
“I mean it,” Briarlight insists. “If you need a cat to play mossball with, or someone to help you collect flowers…”
Dovewing meets Briarlight’s eyes, and an almost imperceptible tension flees her. “Really? You mean that?”
“I wouldn’t offer if I didn’t.” She wants to be a cat Dovewing can be herself around.
“I might take you up on it.” Dovewing licks Briarlight’s cheek. “Thank you.”
Tigerheart shreds the mouse into bites. “There, kitten.”
“She can chew her own meat,” Bumblestripe calls.
“Eat,” Tigerheart insists. “Bumblestripe, what is your damage?”
“I’m just saying. She’s not a kit.”
Beside him, Dovewing stops eating, her ears pointed out. Tigerheart runs his tail over her back, frustrated. They just found something that works, and Bumblestripe is interfering. “This doesn’t concern you, Bumblestripe.”
Hollytuft grimaces. “I’ll deal with him, Tigerheart. He’s just an ass who doesn’t know how to take no for an answer.”
Dovewing is sleeping next to Fernsong. It’s obvious to anyone that all the conflict is stressing her, and the Clan handles it with the same uncertain tone as always. When Tigerheart can’t be with her, Fernsong or Ivypool are. Even when she’s not stuck between being cared for and freezing and another episode of raw fear, she’s jumpy and clingy, and it helps to have someone nearby.
She yawns.
“How’re you feeling, Dove?” He’s gotten in the habit of checking in when she wakes. Tigerheart can read and navigate her as easily as a bird flies, but Fernsong isn’t trying to be that: He’s just her friend.
“I’unno,” she says. “What do you mean.
“Just…how are you feeling?”
“Neutral, if you make me decide.”
Fernsong licks her forehead. “What do you want to do?”
“‘M going back to sleep. You can do whatever you want.”
“What is it, Daddy?” Dovewing purrs. “Can’t keep up?”
It’s been a long time since she’s felt fun like this. She can’t think about why that is, or she’ll lose it, but she watches Tigerheart stumble to pad after her, and she feels like herself again.
“I’d be more concerned about what’s going to happen when I catch up with you, kitten,” he says. His tail is held straight, and she knows what that means.
“I dunno, Daddy. Seems like you’re pretty far behind.”
Growling playfully, Tigerheart launches forward, his paws grasping on her hips. It’s enough to knock her to the ground, and she spins onto her back, holding her paws up defensively.
“Lovey-Dovey,” he purrs. “Haven’t we been through this enough times? Daddy will always catch up with you.”
She giggles, and Tigerheart takes advantage of it, slipping his nose past her guard and tickling her. “Daddy!” she yelps. “That’s cold!”
“It’ll warm up,” he soothes. “Watch.”
Tigerheart continues to nuzzle her, changing up locations every time she starts to laugh so hard her paws lash out at him.
“Daddy!” she whines. “Stop teasing me.”
His purr grows into something deep and serious. “Okay, kitten. If you insist.” He stops, just enough of his weight on her that she feels pinned, and he laps at her neck, occasionally hovering over her throat. “Be a good girl for Daddy,” he says, low and sultry. “Do what he tells you.”
She whimpers, caught between the warmth of his fur on her stomach and the cold of his nose against her chin and the way her heart is pounding against her ribs. She’s so aware of herself (and nothing else not the battle that looms or the fear or anything just herself, just her Daddy and being his kitten) that she feels every drop of blood spinning through her veins.
Tigerheart licks her forehead, and she tucks her chin in, closing her eyes. He purrs, licking behind her ears.
“Pretty kitten,” he murmurs. “That’s right. You’re just my good, obedient little kitten, Dovey. You don’t have a care in the world but doing what Daddy tells you.”
He says it; it’s true; she keens against his touch.
Tigerheart drags his muzzle over the back of her head, digging his teeth into her scruff. It’s forceful enough to elicit a squeak of pain, but he doesn’t apologize. Around her fur, he continues to purr.
“Daddy’s going to take good care of you,” he says, lifting her up and pressing her onto her stomach. She lets herself stay limp as he manipulates her. “Just breathe, kitten. Let me worry about everything else.”
The time comes.
“Fernsong will stay with you again,” Tigerheart says. “I promise I’m coming back to you.”
She nods.
“Dovey,” he whispers. “I love you so much. The stars themselves will have to strike me down to keep me away from you.”
She purrs. Everything she could say is dead in her throat because this is a battle. This is a threat. Cats are going to die and Tigerheart could be one of them. Ivypool could be one of them. She can’t.
“Listen to Daddy,” he says. “You be a good girl for Fernsong, okay? He’s going to take care of you while Daddy is away.”
“Okay.”
“I’m going to come back, kitten. Daddy’s going to be okay. I promise.”
“What if you’re not?”
He purrs, pressing their foreheads together. “I can’t answer that, lovey-Dovey, because it’s not going to happen.”
One of the leaders calls the patrols together, and Tigerheart gives her a final, parting nuzzle.
“I love you,” she whispers.
“I love you more.”
They’ve known Dovewing would take this hard for a long time: they planned what they would do. As soon as Tigerheart has to step away from her, Fernsong steps in. He wraps his tail over her, licking behind her ear. “Let’s go find something to do,” he says. “Anything you want.”
“I don’t want to do anything!”
Fernsong takes a deep breath. He’s sat with kits when their mothers wanted to go to a Gathering: he can do this. It feels strange, to be using the same techniques on Dovewing, but she needs him to.
“I know,” he soothes. “But I’m feeling really worried, and I want to distract myself.”
“You are?”
“Mhm.” He nuzzles her, purring. “My mate’s going off to fight in a very big battle, and I’m worried about what’s going to happen to her.” The fact that Dovewing doesn’t react to Fernsong calling Ivypool his mate (is she? they have to talk about that) is more of clue to her state than almost anything else.
Dovewing rocks, uncertain. Tigerheart took her into a secluded corner of camp to say goodbye, and Fernsong is grateful. They don’t know what will happen with the Kin, so taking Dovewing anywhere other than camp is unsafe, but he hopes no one is paying too much attention to them.
“We can eat, we can play mossball, we can take a nap…”
Dovewing presses her face into his side. “Can you tell me a story?” she asks.
He nods, lying on his side so she can nestle into him. “Any preferences?”
She shakes her head.
“Alright, Dove. Close your eyes so you can picture it.”
“Want to play with us, Briarlight?”
She eyes them. “I dunno. Dovewing, you think Fernsong can keep up with me?”
Dovewing giggles. “Nah. But he can try.”
Fernsong shakes his head. “Ganging up on me?”
“Yes!”
“Sorry, Fernsong,” Briarlight says. “Dove and I are old partners.”
“Really? Two against one?”
Dovewing nods.
“Well, I guess I’ll just have to give it my best.”
Dovewing wakes up next to Fernsong.
“Hey, Dove. Sleep well?”
She nods, memories filtering through, and — oh. He’s not back.
“Dove, breathe. Everything is okay.”
“It’s not okay!” she yelps. “He promised he’d be back, and—”
Fernsong pulls her against him, even as she wriggles to stand. “Breathe,” he orders more forcefully. “Listen to me, Dove. Your daddy is coming back. He’s still fighting, but he’s coming back.”
She stops resisting his efforts to calm her, mostly out of shock. “You called him my daddy.”
Fernsong licks the top of her head. “Do you not want me to do that?”
“You don’t have to. I know who he is.”
“Did it help when I said it?”
She nods. It always helps. She hasn’t called Tigerheart anything other than Daddy in seasons, but hearing it reminds her that right now, she can just let Fernsong take care of her.
“Okay. That’s what I thought it would do.”
“Are they going to be back soon?”
“I don’t know, Dove. I hope so.” His tail curves up at her side. “Do you want to do something?”
“Just stay here.”
“Alright, then. You just let me know.”
“Tigerheart, we’re not going back to ThunderClan.”
He looks over his parents. Tawnypelt is standing shoulder-to-shoulder with Rowanstar, and they both look tired, but well.
“The battle is over. We won. We can go home.”
“I can’t leave her,” he says. It’s all he’s been thinking of — fighting to get back to her — but the hurt on his mother’s face is predictable, and Rowanstar looks almost angry.
“She’s an enemy warrior,” Rowanstar says. “You’d abandon your Clan for that?”
“She’s my mate. I love her.” He promised her he’d come back. His Dovewing is waiting, possibly panicking, and he can’t imagine taking a single step that’s not closer to her. “I’m sorry, I am. I love you, and I love ShadowClan, but…I can’t leave her.”
Tawnypelt’s face is the first to soften. She licks his cheek. “I wish you told us sooner,” she murmurs. “But I’m glad you’re not just running off.” She bunts her temple against his. “If my brother sends you home, remind him that you’re not the first to switch Clans in the family.”
“Tawny,” Rowanstar whispers. “He’s leaving us.”
“We can’t stop him.” She steps back. “His mind has been made up for a long time.”
Rowanstar sighs. “If this doesn’t work out, Tigerheart, don’t think I’m just going to welcome you back into ShadowClan.”
“I don’t.” His father doesn’t mean that — although Tigerheart is sure he’d never live it down — but it does mean he accepts Tigerheart’s choice. “And I’ll miss you.”
Rowanstar gives him a lick on the shoulder. “You are a good warrior. Bramblestar will be lucky to have you.”
Tigerheart says a final goodbye, and then he turns away from his parents. It should be harder, but he can see Dovewing in his mind, waiting for him, and it makes it easy.
Dovewing chirps, tangling herself with Tigerheart.
Everything else fades away. The confusion about his presence, the smarting wounds on his legs and flanks, none of it matters when Dovewing is here, purring and nuzzling him.
“You’re back.”
“I told you I would be back, Dovey.”
“I know. But you didn’t actually know that.” She tugs at his leg with her teeth. “Let’s get you to the medicine den. They want all the injured cats there.”
Tigerheart assumes he has Fernsong to thank for her stability, and follows her, taking the spot she points to. He rests his head on her flank, and she begins to wash him, starting with his head.
“The others didn’t come back,” she comments.
“No. Tawnypelt and Rowanstar are back with ShadowClan.”
She licks him a few times, a little extra force in them. “Did you come back because you promised you would?”
He knows what she’s really asking. Did you come back so you could say you didn’t break your promise? Is this goodbye?
“I promised I would always come back to you,” he says. “I can’t do that if I’m not in the same Clan as you, now can I?”
Dovewing’s purr stutters, and she folds her head over him, her whiskers against his ear. “Okay,” she says. “Okay, good, because I don’t know what I was going to do, and I love you, and I don’t want to be without you, and—”
“Breathe, kitten,” he says. “Just breathe. Daddy’s here. He’s not leaving you ever again.”