Two Brokenhearted Mothers

The pond was beautiful tonight. The reflection cast on the softly rippling surface of the stars glistening brightly up above was truly magnificent. The grass underpaw was soft, luscious, and green, and it swayed and whistled gently in the calm, cool breeze. All around, the green glows of fireflies drifted in the cool night air in the search of a mate to call their own.

If only she could've had one of her own. Or at least kept one.

Sweet sighed and rested her chin on her cream-colored paws. All she had truly wanted to do was keep peace between the Clans and follow her heart. Sure, she had had feelings for Reedclaw when she tried to cover up Shade's true father while he was still in her belly, but her heart would always belong to ShadowClan's deputy Scorchfang. Ever since she first met him that night by Fourtrees as apprentices, she just felt a spark inside her heart that told her this arrogant yet talented tom was the one.

She loved him so much. Enough to break the warrior code. Enough to go behind the backs of her own Clanmates. ...Enough to let him go. Well, at least physically. She never stopped thinking about the handsome dark tabby, even during her relationship with Reedclaw. And her beautiful son Shade reminded her so much of his true father. Cunning, determined, and eager to prove his worth.

So where did everything go horribly, horribly wrong? Where did Silverfang find out about her illegal affair with Scorchfang? Where did Shade decide he wanted to kill her after her banishment? Where did her beloved son begin to dedicate his life to ending the lives of innocent cats out of spite?

Everything had been perfect. Well, as perfect as things could've been given the circumstances. All she had wanted in life was to become a full-time queen and raise generation upon generation of grand kits who would one day become the greatest RiverClan warriors the forest had ever seen. So why was she denied of her dream? Why did this have to be her destiny?

Sweet buried her face in her paws and began to weep.

StarClan wasn't the paradise everyone made it out to be. Sure, there was plenty of prey; sure, there was no sickness or war; sure, it was beautiful. But that didn't mean there wasn't still pain. Honeydrop knew- she felt it every day.

It was the pain of loving someone who betrayed you, and forcing yourself to avoid them. She couldn't be anywhere near Flamestrike, had never even tried to talk with him, because she couldn't bear what he'd done to her. But she still loved her former mate, even though he'd been responsible for her exile and, indirectly, her death. He had done the unforgivable, and she hated him for it. But she loved him still.

It was the pain of loving someone who hated you, and knowing they were justified in that hatred. Her sons... Oh, her two beautiful sons. She had wept when Gingerstripe suffered her same fate, cast out of the Clan they had called home. And for killing her, a rogue, who the Clan had been so willing to hate and spit upon when her own secret was revealed. Make no mistake, she planned to have words with Littlestar once she died. But oh, how proud she had been when he rose out of the ashes of his mistakes, working towards redemption and finding a love of his own... But she knew that he and Firestone, who was a respected senior warrior and his brother's opposite, still cursed their heritage from her with every breath. And she loved them still.

It was the pain of purposelessness. Here she sat, shimmering in starry fields, doing nothing. Cats below her struggled for their lives, cried out with their last breaths, wept at injustice. But here StarClan sat, content to let it happen. A calamity worse than any other was arriving on their very doorstep, and those of StarClan who disagreed said nothing, did nothing. They couldn't. She wished she could fly down and warn them, help them, but she couldn't. Instead, she sat up here and wasted away, trying her best to forget the pain that consumed her from the inside.

Such was her mentality as she padded over to the Wishing Pond, more just to have somewhere to go than anything else. But who else would she find there than a she-cat who was probably closer than anyone to understanding her pain, one who she'd spoken to as an apprentice long, long ago?

"Hello, Sweetheart."

The new, familiar voice gave Sweet a sharp startle, and her head shot up to see who had addressed her with her former warrior name. She instantly recognized Honeydrop as the cat who had tried to warn her of her affair with Scorchfang when she was an apprentice, a warning she didn't heed, a warning she wished she had. She hadn't seen the former ShadowClan medicine cat ever since her own Moonstone journey, and being able to see her now brought memories of youth rushing back to her. Times where she was happily sneaking out to visit Scorchfang, who was still willing to see her. Times where she wasn't carrying within her a kit who would ultimately become one of the biggest threats the Clans had ever faced. Times where she wasn't constantly suspected to be a traitorous fox by the rest of her Clanmates. Times where she was still in a Clan at all.

The sorrowful she-cat's muzzle curved upward slightly in a small smile. It was nice seeing Honeydrop again after so long, but the smile was still somewhat forced. She'd had to put on so many fake smiles for living apprentices whom StarClan for some unknown reason decided she would be the best cat to guide them. Now these fake smiles felt all but natural to her -- and she hated it. "I see you're doing well, Honeydrop. But... i-it's just Sweet now, not Sweetheart. I don't deserve to be addressed as a warrior after what I've done."