A labor of love (open)

It was early in the morning. The dawn patrol was gathering to leave outside, oblivious to the events that were about to take place. SkyClan’s newest members were ready to come into the world. Sapphire was already familiar with the rippling pain of birth, but it still hurt as much as the first litter she had born seasons before, waves of pain becoming stronger and closer together the more time passed. The nursery was empty except for her. If Beechface could really help her give birth, now was the time to get her attention. “Someone get Beechface, please!” She yowled politely from her nest.

Sapphire’s breath was becoming heavy with her attempts to bear the shuddering contractions without a whimper. Hopefully someone had heard her call. She doubted she’d be able to walk herself to the medicine den. ‘My darlings, if you’re with me, please watch over me. Protect your siblings. Make us strong.’

Edit: this is before the gathering so beech isn’t a charred lump of fur

((Timeline note: takes place a bit before the gathering))

Beechface had, as usual, been up early. The dawn patrol was just heading out, and she was quietly making the rounds in the medicine den, checking on the two elders that remained. Wrenspring wasn't improving, Foxfire... He hadn't woken up, but he seemed stable, and Beechface wasn't confident that he would stay that way. Anxiety made her stomach churn each time she left the den for any length of time, and she wished more than anything that they'd left more cats at camp, that they hadn't gone at all, that they could've done anything to prevent this from happening.

Rounds done, Beechface began to methodically check on the herb stores, taking note of what was low and what would need to be used or tossed soon. The yowl of a cat in distress made her head snap up, and Beechface recognized it as Sapphire's voice. She'd been heavily pregnant when the medicine cat had found her, and today seemed as good a day as any for the expecting mother to bring her kits into the world. Grabbing bundles of chervil and raspberry leaves, and another bundle of sticks, the medicine cat quickly exited her den and made her way to the nursery.

"Chew on these, but don't swallow them. Bite down on the sticks when the pain gets bad if you have to, instead of my tail." She mewed briskly, setting the sticks and chervil in front of the queen. The raspberry leaves wouldn't be needed just yet, and were carefully set to the side while Beechface placed a gentle paw on Sapphire's belly. "A large litter, it looks like." Beechface mewed. This was likely to take a while, but she hoped that all would go smoothly.

---

Beechface picked a few stray scrapes of the broken sticks out of Sapphire's nest, making sure that none of the kits would get the chance to be harmed by them. Their mewls and cries filled the air, and Beechface offered the exhausted-looking Sapphire a small smile. The kits were strong, and Sapphire would recover just fine. All in all, good news, and Beechface was almost reminded of how sometimes being a medicine cat could be rewarding, too.

"They're all healthy, I'll get out of your fur and let you rest. If you need anything, let me know." With that, the medicine cat stepped away, allowing the new mother her space.

Beechface was by her side quickly, and Sapphire felt herself relax just a little bit. Smokefeather had explained how medicine cats could help and Beechface had already proven herself capable when they’d first met. It was remarkable how quickly Sapphire found herself trusting this relative stranger. Despite Beechface’s usual gruff demeanor, the former loner felt that she must be a compassionate she-cat deep down if she dutifully helped Clanmates and outsiders alike. It was this unfamiliar trust that made the queen follow the medicine cat’s instructions without hesitation, chewing the leaves without complaint and pulling the sticks close by just in case. This feeling of safety… it soothed her tired heart.

---

Though her body had been pushed to its limit, Sapphire still managed an enthusiastic purr. She curled close to her kits and gave each a few soft, loving licks. They were beautiful. Suddenly all of the running and fear was worth it. There wasn’t a doubt in her mind; SkyClan had protected her and were her kits’ saviors. She would repay them one day, but for now, her focus was on the moment.

“Thank you, Beechface. I won’t forget all the things you’ve done for me. Will you… will you help me name them? I don’t want to do it wrong.” Ashstorm, Smokefeather, Blossomstep, Wrenspring… all these names were beautiful and intricate and she hadn’t a clue how they worked. Her name had been given to her by her owners long, long ago. Now Sapphire had her own choice and she didn’t know what to do with it. “Something that honors SkyClan. Wolfstar said we’d be allowed to stay, and I want them to grow up like real warriors.”

At the sound of Sapphire's voice calling her, Beechface turned, ready to answer whatever question she might have had. The medicine cat blinked at her words, surprise evident across her face. "...Me?" She asked.

"All kits start off with names usually based off of something about our appearance. I was named Beechkit because I was large, and my fur is pale. Ravenkit- Ravenclaw- was named for her dark pelt, but also named for a cat that had helped my mom and sister in the past. When they become apprentices, the -kit is dropped for -paw, so Ravenpaw, or Birdpaw. When we earn our warrior or medicine cat names, Wolfstar names us. It can be something based off of skill, such as Ravenclaw being a good fighter, or appearance or personality, like Foxfire or Primroselight." She explained briefly, considering the bundles of fur that lay at Sapphire's belly.

"What about Palekit for the tom?" She pointed with her tail at the white tomkit. He didn't look like his mother at all, and for now his pelt was just as her suggestion of name implied. If the cat was like Primroselight or her daughters, pelt coloration wouldn't begin to show for a few weeks, anyways, and even then it would mostly stay limited to the cat's extremities.

Beechface considered the other kits, glancing down at a dark scrap of fluffy nestled between his siblings. "Beetlekit, maybe? I've... Never had the opportunity to name kits before. I don't know..." She'd just lied, but Sapphire wasn't familiar with Beechface, and would likely just chalk it up to Beechface being awkward, or the inexperience that she had claimed. Having a mate and children weren't supposed to be things for a medicine cat, after all.

The large black fluffball that had just been deemed Beetlekit snuggled further into his mother's belly. He had appeared big even when wet from birth, but now that he was dried off he wouldn't have looked much like a newborn if not for his sealed shut eyes and ears. He had no idea of the naming difficulties going on between the adults, and would likely never realize how truly important that moment was. Instead, he kneaded with his paws as his instincts directed him to do, and was rewarded with sweet milk.

Another kitten, a large and very fluffy white she-kit with faint tabby marks just starting to appear on her face, tail, and legs, was fairly quiet for a newborn. Only a few small squeaks escaped her as she crawled to join her brother at her mother's belly, pressing against him as she found a place to nurse. The soft warmth of other siblings kept her warm, and for now, she was content.

“That’s lovely. I’ve never heard anything like it.” The queen meowed, looking up at Beechface with gratefulness and admiration. Beetlekit and Palekit seemed like accurate enough names, and she took a moment to look over their siblings and think about things she’d seen while she had been in SkyClan. The various plants and trees had been gorgeous and the wildlife was more abundant than she’s ever seen anywhere else. She gestured with a tilt of her nose towards her third-born, a she-kit. “Orchidkit for her. Pigeonkit for the brown tomkit. And… I think Olivekit for my last-born. They’ll be wonderful warriors someday.”

A fluffy kitten mewed quietly, curling up close to her mother's paw. Her fluff made her look a bit bigger than her siblings, but she was still a tiny newborn kitten with a tiny pink nose, which led her to her mother's comfortable milk. By the time she was done with her snack her mother had named the ragdoll. Olivekit pressed her head against her mother's fur, as if she was thanking her for the name, a faint purr rising from the kitten.

The tiny tom dubbed Pigeon by his mother mewled quietly at his abrupt entrance to the real world. It was cold, and hard, and he felt for the first time what it was like to be outside, to have wind against his skin, the rasp of a tongue to warm him, the gentle nudge of a paw to guide him towards food. Pigeon squirmed forward, blind, deaf, but feeling much safer nestled once more amongst his siblings. He settled in quietly, paws kneading instinctively.