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The air in StarClan is warm, the wind faint, the rustle in the leaves just slight – it’s a long summer evening where dusk is just about to release its hold, and will, when the cats there feel it is right to move on. Bluestar pads along the stream that sparkles under starlight unbroken as she searches for Thrushpelt.
It’s not hard to pick out his voice, chatting away with Mossfur—they call her Mossfur now, because she wanted a name like her mother—but her paws feel cold when she approaches.
Bluestar’s tail curls slightly upwards. She comes with her head high, her ears raised, fur smoothed as if she’s about to speak to a full moon gathering. The dignity she learned during her life is difficult to surrender, and she doesn’t drop it around him. “Hi, mom!” Her kit bounds over, breaking the conversation to brush against her side. Bluestar nuzzles Mossfur and smiles.
“Hello, my dear,” she says. “Do you think I could borrow Thrushpelt for a little while?” Mossfur’s tail quivers excitedly. She’s only ever known Thrushpelt as her father, and while she gets on well with Oakheart now, the two are often inseparable. Maybe some season my dear daughter will stop getting her hopes up…
Thrushpelt arches his back and leaps down to join her. “We won’t be long,” he promises Mossfur. They give a brief brush in farewell before he joins Bluestar. He has questions – but they’ll wait until they’re alone.
They walk together alongside the water, its winding currents changing as they go. Memories of the forest territories, alive in the minds of StarClan and the living cats alike, persist in this realm. The physical space should not be possible, but walking beneath the branches is like stepping into another time. The smell of pine and of the cold water grows older all around them.
Bluestar arrives at Sunning Rocks – her Sunning Rocks, and leaps up onto the largest stone. The baked-in heat soothes her nerves. This is usually not a place of comfort for her, despite how relaxed her paws feel, but the lingering of the bitter reminiscence helps her find the right words. Thrushpelt shoots her a questioning look, and she nods to the open stone.
“I think you know what this is about,” she says.
“You don’t have to say anything.”
“Well, I’m going to,” Bluestar replies. “The problem with having all the time in the world is that no time ever feels like the right time.”
Thrushpelt tilts his head to the side. He doesn’t refuse, but even his steps are careful as he pulls himself up onto a nearby rock. The spark is still in him, in the way he crosses his paws, the way he watches her just off the corner of his vision even when they’re not talking. Years in StarClan haven’t extinguished his feelings, but they have soothed the pain.
That makes the next part easier.
“I’m putting it all to nest. The things I’ve done, the things I’ve said, we all deserve our rest.” Bluestar’s ears lay back. “I want you to know my feelings.” Thrushpelt’s gaze is gentle. His head is lifted now, and his ears are tilted towards her, hanging on every word. Now that it’s all behind us, she wants to say, but can she really? He’s still laying there across from her, looking at her, and now he’s smiling without realizing it.
“I care about you,” she says. “I wanted you to be happy, even if I couldn’t give you what you wished for.”
“You didn’t need to give me anything, Bluefur,” he replies.
It’s been forever since she’s been called that. It reminds her of a time before leadership and legacies, and all the weight of the forest falling on her shoulders. The same pressure she’d tried to shed since setting paw in StarClan. His affection is another pressure, an unfair one, unfair to them both. Once, she could hear the hidden but I wish you could love me buried in his words.
But no longer.
I should leave well alone, but I want to give you a chance to say everything.
Bluestar sucks in a breath.
“If you could go back and change our lives, would you?”
Would you rewrite history so we were together?
Thrushpelt waits a moment, like he knows he should think about it, before responding with a soft, “no.”
She expects this, but it still tingles her hackles. “Just… no?”
“And take away your life, your family, your clan – your everything? No, Bluefur, I couldn’t possibly.” Thrushpelt leans her way. “I’ll admit one thing. If I could spare you the pain you went through, I would take it back in a heartbeat. Consequences be damned. And I’ve imagined it—I’ve imagined it a thousand times at least! What cat couldn’t? But, no. You were happy with who you chose, and so sure of the life you made. That’s what I wanted.”
Bluestar is silent. This is the same Thrushpelt she remembers, even if he could not shed his sorrow at the time. He licks the back of his paw and adds, “besides, I got to spend so much of my life with you. Why would I risk that?”
“It wasn’t enough time, really, was it?” Bluestar shakes her head. “But I didn’t ask you here to lament the past. I just want to know if you’re okay.”
“Of course I’m okay. I’m here, with everyone.” With you, he’s saying.
“Then you still feel the same way.”
“I do, but don’t let it trouble you.”
“It’s no trouble,” she says. It’s a little lie, unfolding… and there is the root of her restlessness. Lying to her good friend, over and over again, because the truth still makes her squirm in her pelt. We’re not kits anymore. Not apprentices, not young flouncing warriors… old, kindred spirits. If I can’t accept you now, then when will I ever be able to? No. It’s time we pull out this thorn once and for all.
Bluestar lays her ears back and turns to face him. “Tell me how you feel.”
“Bluefur?” Thrushpelt leans back in surprise. “You know… I… don’t think that’s a good idea.”
“I don’t care. Say it.”
“I… all right.” Thrushpelt averts his gaze. He can’t gather his thoughts while he’s looking at her, and it’s unfair for her to ask. She knows it, but this is the only way he’ll ever allow himself to say it. His tail is twitching, pondering the poetry of his youth before he settles on the truth, simple and honest. “I still love you, Bluefur.”
The words are warmth flooding through her, and she’s even a little ashamed to enjoy it. “And I love you, in my own way, even if I don’t share my nest with you.” Even saying this much is making her feel without her pelt. She worries the words will cause the sparks in Thrushpelt to twist into flames and engulf him, but instead he just wipes a paw against his eye and thrums with pleasure.
“I just wish I could set you free,” Bluestar presses.
“I’ve always been free,” he answers back. “You don’t have to worry about me any more. Especially not here, the happiest place in the universe!”
“All right, you’ve made your point.” Bluestar flicks the tip of her tail and gives him a half-hearted glare. He just laughs, no matter how hard it gets.
There’s one last little thing, though, and she lets herself ask—even if it’s selfish—even if he’ll enjoy it a little too much. “I’d like if you kept calling me Bluefur, when we’re alone,” she says.
Thrushpelt blinks. “Of course, Bluefur.”
“Thank you, Thrushpelt.”
Bluefur settles against the warmth of the stone, feeling it soak into her tender belly. The sound of the river rolling by seems to connect the past to the future, as if she followed it up far enough, she could find her younger self standing there. Maybe she and Thrushpelt weren’t so different after all, back then. They both loved relentlessly, no matter what senses and duties demanded they do otherwise. They carried it stubbornly through their life until life left them, and their feelings still burned in their spirit.
Little by little their families would return to their sides, and little by little things would become okay again.
Bluestar closes her eyes. It’s easier to breathe, or remember breathing, now.
Thrushpelt pushes himself to his feet first, shaking off the bliss of sunshine running through him. “ If we’re hiding away much longer, Oakheart is going to get suspicious.”
Bluestar follows reluctantly, and tosses her tail in the direction of her distant mate. “Maybe I should let him get suspicious. Would serve him right, strutting around here the way he does.”
Thrushpelt’s ears turn pink inside and his hop to the ground is interrupted by a slight squirm. “I adore you, but helping you wind up your mate might be a bit much for me.” He looks around, as if worried that someone is spying on their meeting. “Rosetail is already going to be beside herself if she finds out we snuck off together.”
“Oh, all right…” Bluestar relents. “Let’s get back, then.”
They climb their way into the forest, giving each other a fond glance before parting ways. She knows they’ll speak again, and again, countless times reminiscing the days and reassuring the future, and while he won’t say the words she’ll always know how he feels.
And because he always keeps his promises, he’ll always call her Bluefur.