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She scrubbed at her eyes, forcing herself to stand through the dizziness. She took two steps, a third… and dropped forward.
She felt sick, so sick.
But not from the pounding in her head. Not the wheeze in a cracked chest. No.
She remembered this kind of hurt.
Failure.
She failed.
She curled, letting go of a sob like a thundercrack; eyes like lightning open through her angry tears, her rage, all at herself. She swayed, pushing herself to her knees.
“D-D…”
Her bloodied hands curled into fists…. and pounded at the misty ground.
“GOD DAMN IT!”
She threw her head back, her eyes screwing shut as she screeched to an eternally dim sky.
She lost her words, words that once flitted from her encased in wit and the kind of wisdom found only in the depths of a heart so used to loving. She wanted to tear herself open, she wanted to pull all of them out, because in the end they had done nothing.
She hiccupped, lips trembling as she snarled… and her mouth dropped open in the cries only the broken can give.
Only when they are broken.
She fell forward again, yowling through her tears before she curled in on herself, feeling cracks spread through her iron frame. She had fought so hard, battled for what felt like a millennium for what she knew was good; for what she loved.
Only for it all to vanish.
She heard footsteps, the soft shuffle of hide-leather boots and the whispers of clothing.
She jerked herself up, glaring with blank eyes and baring her teeth.
The person staring back blinked, and knelt.
“Little lioness, what is dis. Why do you cry like a lost kit?”
Nepeta reared back, hissing hoarsely.
“Hush, small one. Lower your hackles with me.”
Nepeta shook her head.
The woman who stared at her reached a hand out, humming comfort from her throat in feline trills and a soft purr.
Nepeta braced herself, a stray kicked too many times.
The woman pulled the blue hat from her head, setting it to the side before her fingers tangled in Nepeta’s hair. Gently, she scratched over Nepeta’s scalp, cooing at her to come closer, not to be afraid…
Nepeta blinked, moving instead to sit on her haunches and bow her head miserably.
“Tell me, child. Tell me.”
“I died.”
“I see that.”
“He… He killed my moirail. He killed the only person I ever had.”, said Nepeta, “No one knows what that’s like.”
The woman was quiet, the scritching stopped and her hand fell away.
“All I’ve ever done was care.”, whispered Nepeta, “No matter how much they laughed at me, or made fun of me. No matter what they whispered when they thought I couldn’t hear.”
She rubbed over her eyes again, staining her sleeve in blood and tears, “And it was all just… stupid fancy. I was dumb, it was all USELESS!”
“I was only ever the kittycat shippurr girl!”, she hissed, “I never had any other meaning to them!”
The woman’s eyes were calm, understanding though they glimmered like old pearls.
“I just… I don’t know.”, said Nepeta, “I don’t know what I wanted.”
“To be loved, little one.”
“I didn’t NEED love!”, hissed Nepeta.
“But you wanted it.”
Nepeta glared.
“You remembered the soft fur of your lusus.”, was the answer, “You remembered the safety of your home. You remembered being badgered to clean the hunt from you; you remembered being safe and warm and content.”
Nepeta looked down.
“You remembered the comraderie. You once knew the feeling of a back against yours and the calm confidence that you would be victorious.”
Nepeta seemed to shrink.
“You are allowed to want those things again.”
Nepeta choked on air, biting her lip.
“You are not a god. You are not immune. You are a young one, a kit still growing.”
Nepeta shook her head, “N-No; NO, I am the HUNTRESS-”
“No, you are not. Not yet.”
“Says WHO?!”
“The Huntress herself.”
Nepeta gasped, as the Disciple stared back at her.
“Tell me… am I weak to you?”
“N-No of course not!”
“Am I frail? Foolish?”
Nepeta shook her head.
The Disciple smiled, “If I can be a name of legend and still yearn to be loved… why can’t you?”
“B-because… Because I…”
“Because what? Because you are Alternian? Because you are a Leijon? Tell me, child… why can you not love with all your heart even as you fight with all your spirit?”
Nepeta looked down, “Because… Because I… I don’t know.”
“Come here, kit.”
Nepeta pawed over, crawling into the Disciple’s lap with a whimper in her throat.
The Disciple wrapped strong arms around her descendant, holding her close. She stroked over bloodied hair, rocking her descendant from side to side with her body like a metronome… like a pulse, a heartbeat.
“Babymine… You are allowed to hurt and to heal like any other troll regardless of what they say.”
Nepeta kneaded gently at the Disciple’s form, hiccuping again.
“The greatest trolls I ever knew… The Psiioniic, The Signless, The Dolorosa… they all loved without remorse and fought like the beasts of the underworld, don’t you know that?”
Nepeta shook her head.
“The Dolorosa loved my darling ember-eyes so much she forsook the only life she knew to save him. Is she weak?”
“…No.”
“The Psiioniic loved freedom so deeply, he gave every last spark of himself to try and save it; he cherished it so much he died for the cause. Is he pathetic?”
“…No.”
“…The Signless loved the world so much… the trolls in it… He loved our family so much, he died upon the jut to give us all the stars he saw in his dreams. Is he useless?”
Nepeta buried her face against the Disciple and whispered, “…No.”
“And I… I loved a troll so much I abandoned quadrants to give all of me to him. Forever.”, she whispered, “Under the stars, I promised my heart and soul and being to him; I fought, killed, and died for him. Am I weak?”
“No! No you’re the strongest troll efur!”, squeaked Nepeta.
The Disciple smiled down at her.
“And you are of my blood.”
Nepeta paused.
“You were born of a love so strong it transcended quadrants and time and a planet itself.”
Nepeta looked down, and felt a kiss to the top of her head.
“You are not weak for loving, my child. You are not pathetic for weeping.”
Nepeta hiccuped, throwing her arms over the Disciple’s shoulders and clinging so very tightly to her.
The Disciple felt tears prickle her own eyes as they closed, as she smiled and surrounded her descendant in the love she had missed so dearly.
“You are strong, Little Lion Child. You are the heartbeat in Heaven; and you are the love of all of Trollkind.”, murmured the Huntress, “You are the fury of stars and the light of supernovas, and I love you so much for it.”
Nepeta sobbed.
“I love you, my little kit. Your moirail loves you, my dearest would adore you. Your lusus loves you. You are loved, my littlest one. My heartbroken warrior; I love you so.”
Nepeta wept, bundled close to the Disciple as the words she needed echoed in her broken body and dulled soul.
You are loved.
You are loved.
You deserve to be loved…
And you ARE.