Warrior Cat Clans 2 (WCC2 aka Classic) is a roleplay site inspired by the Warrior series by Erin Hunter. Whether you are a fan of the books or new to the Warrior cats world, WCC2 offers a diverse environment with over a decade’s worth of lore for you - and your characters - to explore. Join us today and become a part of our ongoing story!
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The first thing Kier felt after the miscarriage, cutting through the haze of stunned, speechless, staring grief, was rage. He was blind with it. Pushing himself up from beside his still-bleeding mate in a vicious scrabble, he bounded out into the main cavern, snapped an order to follow at the first loyalist he saw, and disappeared up the stone slope. Kier’s strength was a lean, quick one — but if there was one thing he was good at, it was running. His siblings had taught him how to do that. And so he ran, through the pine forest heavy with dusk, untiring and with the guard bounding along behind the tyrant, and back into the clinging forest of the League. But he didn’t see any of it — didn’t smell the rot of the trees, didn’t feel the chill in the air. He was blind with anger — but the most frightening thing about it was that it wasn’t hysterical, it wasn’t a stupor; it was absolutely, terrifyingly clear. When he was this angry, his mind sharpened; he would find a needle in a haystack, scent blood that been washed away by three weeks’ worth of rain, track his sister down in a sprawling woodland. He would peel the skin from her bones and be aware of every second of it. Every sense was heightened until the forest wasn’t a forest; it was black and white lines, a map of everything, every element, every mouse hole in every tree trunk, that he passed over uncaringly at every other time.
He stopped for a moment, not panting even as the guard doubled over himself to gasp in breaths, and spun a quick, silent circle, head slightly raised as he scented the air — but it wasn’t even quite that; he was feeling for something. His eyes were impossibly wild and impossibly contained. Calm. Clearly finding it, he turned, silent and dangerously certain, and set off again.
And then he saw her.
The first thing he did was filled with murder. “KATE,” he shouted — screamed — and before she had time to react, Kier was on her. He wasn’t the same reedy kit she’d tormented; he had grown taller than her, however slightly, and with that came strength — and he used all of it against her now. Barrelling her into the dirt, he gripped the back of her head with his claws and slammed it into the thick root of the tree beside them. Immediately, before she could recover, his teeth collided with the back of her neck, inching for her throat, and tore into it; hot blood covered his face, flooded his mouth, blinded him. The world was his sister’s blood. He held tighter, claws clinging her to him, and his violence was too absolute to be growling; it was silent, efficient, rabid, utter gore and hatred.
The second was eerily calm. He suddenly and inexplicably let her go, his sister’s blood dripping from his mouth, and swept around to sit down neatly. “Well,” he told her, sitting back and brushing debris from his foreleg. “You’ve really made a mess of things now.” He looked up, and his thin, unblinking eyes were hateful. He wasn’t going to kill her, not now — where was the suffering? Where was the vengeance? It was too much of a mercy. He wanted to take everything from her first. Maybe he’d kill Mal; he wasn’t his brother anymore, he was just Kate’s brother. Everyone was dead to him. Everything and everyone were merely inventory laid out on a table for him to take away, systematically, one by one. The guard didn’t intervene; he just stood, ominous and silent, at Kier’s shoulder. Like it was something foul, something meaningless, Kier flicked blood from his paw, muzzle pinching in disgust and cold, violent eyes never leaving his sister’s. “Haven’t you, Kate?”
It had been a few days since Kate's attack on the weakling of a mate her brother held. Her anger was still there, but it was dulled down to a low burning fire now. She'd tried her best to distract herself after her breakdown. The cries of pain she'd felt as her heart truly finished shattering, it had ached so deeply within herself that she had struggled to pull herself back together. Though, there was no true pulling herself back together. Kate knew she would never be the same. Her father was gone, a part of her had left with it. The world was so empty and lifeless now, and her meaning was lost. She'd always wanted to make Harley proud of her, but now she was afraid. Who would tell her that she was doing great? Accomplishing what was expected of her, and going beyond?
Her mouth had felt dry since everything had fallen apart. Her belly empty due to lack of appetite. Her head still pounding from the many tears she'd shed. The little calico had finally managed to pull herself from her nest and somewhat groom her furs enough to seem decently presentable. Though, she didn't plan on speaking to any of the cats, instead, Kate had made her way from the league's camp and back into the forest. Hoping that some fresh air would bring her from her stupor. She had duties to continue, she was Assassin now. Yet, even the title felt unearned, or perhaps that was still her grief talking.
Kate sighed softly as she tried to flex the toes in her front right paw. It was still sore from the claw she'd torn when she had went after Eris. She had stopped to lift her paw, her eyes gazing downwards at it. Shaking her head, it was then that the calico bobtail lifted her head as she heard her name called. It was loud, a yelling noise. Venom laced the syllable of her name, as if calling for death. It took her half a second of shock to recognize the name, but by then, it was too late.
A body slammed into her side, winding her and forcing her onto the ground. Typically, it was hard to catch her off guard, but perhaps in this emotionally weakened state, she'd faltered. Kate had always been strong, but Kier had always been fast and cunning. Stars blotched her vision as she felt the force of her head being slammed against the root, a hiss of pain escaping her gritted teeth. Then came the hot searing pain of teeth in her neck. Her dazed state was beginning to fade back in, the black and blue colors going back to color. Her own blood triggering a fight or flight mode, and Kate was not one to run.
Kier let her go, and the pain that wrecked havoc on her body was almost none-existent. His words went through one ear and out the other, it was almost as if she never heard them.
Kate. The way Kier said her name with disgust made the fire in her eyes reignite furiously.
She rolled to her paws, ears pinned against her skull and her muscles bunched. There was blood staining her white chest, dripping down on her white paws. Kate had taken a few serious blows all at once, all simply because she was caught off guard. "You always were a snake." She jeered as she feigned an attack on the right side. At the last second Kate dropped her body to the left and landed on her side, then hooked her claws underneath his side and let them rake from his lower belly upwards towards his chest. Her mouth darted forward and she let her teeth sink into his hind leg as deep and as hard as she could bite, in true attempts to get at his bone. Her head shook slightly as she used her head to pull her hind legs underneath his stomach, between his front and back limbs. Kate hung onto his hind leg, letting her own hinds kick underneath his stomach, much like a rabbit would. He was much taller than her, and she knew that an upper attack would have been harder to land.
If this was a fight Kier wanted, Kate was happy to give it. The pent up rage she felt had been unleashed. She'd wanted to kill Eris in the moment, but no. Her real fight was with Kier, as much as he wanted blood, she did too.
She let go of his hind, only to give a nice emotional stab. "What's wrong, did I hurt her bad enough you lost your cowardice? She ran like a little rat, too afraid to even fight back. She's just as pathetic as you are. Your kits will be just like you I'm sure, scared of the world and weak." Or, in truth, not in the world. Kate didn't know that, yet.
Despite his initial violence, despite his bone-deep craving for her death in the shadow of his claws, his teeth, his poison, Kier had no interest in a fight — he had never been a fighter, found no relief or release in any brutality that didn’t end in death. So, letting out a gasp of pain that was more impatient than anything, like he’d yet again been interrupted by her self-obsessed blood thirst, he tried to wriggle free in a mad, slippery scrabble. This was aided, just as Kate’s taunt about Eris and his kits left her mouth, by his guard intervening to haul Kate off just enough for him to slip free.
As the guard hauled her back and held her at bay, with her stomach exposed and her scruff in his jaws, Kier turned his back on them and padded a little away like he didn’t hear the scuffling and snarling behind him, like he’d grown used as a tyrant to having would-be assassins chained and kicking at his back. When he faced them again, padding slowly around, it was with a bewildered, uncomprehending expression on his face, his harrowed eyes on the ground and his steps numb. Not his own. All his violence, all his hatred, had melted away. The only thing left was the disoriented, grasping betrayal — the grief — of a brother who didn’t understand why he’d had such a thing as his children taken from him.
He looked up at Kate and his eyes were wide, trying to beseech her, to understand why she’d done it, why she’d taken this from him and Eris. The innocent desolation, the torment, in his gaze was heartbreaking. “Kate, our father was not innocent — but my kits,” his voice broke, “were.” His siblings had always hated each other, but not like this — not taking from one of them something so precious, not… destroying their life.
They weren’t children anymore. He couldn’t remember when they had grown up. The tragedy of it… If the kits they’d been could have seen what they’d become, they would have wept amongst the fields. He didn’t feel the blood dripping from his stomach, didn’t feel it slipping down his chest and pooling at his ribs, didn’t feel it warming his paws; all he felt was himself disappearing into the cruel depths of his sister’s eyes, imploring her to make sense of his grief. “I hurt you, but Eris didn’t. She was innocent. All my life you’ve paraded it before me that I’m weak, that I’m helpless — as if being the stronger one tormenting the feebler is such a terribly noble thing. The strong take what they will and the weak suffer what they must — yes, that doctrine has served me as well as it has you. Better, I would say,” his voice, on that, briefly broke free of its beseeching tone to return to a flash of venom; it died as quickly as it had come, his head turning back to her. “But your war was with me, Kate.” It was almost a cry, his frown anguished and his neck reaching out towards her. “I killed our father, not Eris. Yes, she was afraid — she was pregnant.” The word came out almost as a wail, pleading with Kate to see the tragedy she had inflicted. Was pregnant… The past tense broke his heart afresh; it had come to him so easily, so simply. “She was carrying my kits, and you—“ He couldn’t make the words come; as the guard held Kate at bay, the agony of his soliloquy unfolded before her. He paced back and forth; he stood rooted to the spot as if by the disorienting haze of grief; he almost wept. “Why?” Once more, it was a cry. A desperate cry, gaze begging hers. “Our father was old, he was not blameless — but my kits, Kate, my kits, they hadn’t even had a chance to live. Because you had to demonstrate your bravery on a mother with weak lungs and a bellyful of kits.” His voice dropped away to disgust on the final line, all his anguish pooling into nausea as he looked at his sister. For the first time since he began to speak, he truly saw her.
He felt nothing for what stared back at him.
And with that, with the final lowness of his voice, came the end of Kier’s vulnerability. A closing of the book, all his tears trapped and swallowed up by the pages, lost to time. Turning away, he stalked a few paces away, tail flicking back and forth behind him, the thin fur along his shoulders prickling. His grief dried on his cheeks like it had never been there at all, like he had never felt them slip from his eyes, and he didn’t acknowledge them. And in the silence, he thought. “And so, Kate, what shall we do with you?” There was something almost playful in his voice. ’Shall’ sounded like the beginning to a wonderful bedtime story. A story for kits.
The sudden pierce of teeth buried in her nape set another hiss spilling from her clenched teeth. Being drug away from Kier set her to flailing her claws as she twisted in attempts to reach this silent guard who dared interfere with their quarrel. Another cowardly snake move, to bring another cat to help subdue her. It just showed that her brother was as weak as she saw him. Kier couldn't even fight her one on one.
When Kier turned back to her with that... expression, Kate had paused in her writhing, but only for a moment. Their father was mentioned and that slightly tamed fire alit again. Her paw flashed out in attempts to reach him with her claws, but he was just out of reach. "Let me go!" Her body shook, perhaps from adrenaline, or even the pain her body was attempting to block out from the wounds that now littered her body. Her green eyes narrowed as her nose scrunched up. "You took the only thing that mattered from me!" She screamed. She screamed it so loud it drowned out the words he was attempting to get through to her. "You took my daddy from me! You took him away from me forever!" Her screeches were filled with pain, but not that from her wounds. The pain clouded her heart, it tore her apart. "The only one who ever loved me." Rhiannon never did, Mal didn't, and Kier damn sure never loved her.
"Eris laughed, she threw it in my face. You two are both nothing better than the rats that crawl along the city streets. You deserve nothing! I hope she has nightmares about me, I told her I'd slit her throat in her sleep. I meant it."
Kate shook her head, tears swelling in her eyes as she twisted and slashed her claws this time at the cat holding her and keeping her just out of reach of Kier. "I said let me go!!" Irritation clear in her eyes she shifted her eyes back to Kier.
"I hate you!" Kate was screaming again. It was a wonder that other cats in the league hadn't heard the way the two were confronting another. Her screeches were wild, and her fight back was a strong struggle.
"Tell your goon to let me go, and fight me you sniveling rat!" Her sides were heaving with effort as she struggled. Kate was a strong cat, and an excellent fighter, but against two? Kate knew she couldn't defeat two trained adult cats alone. She was in a spot, but she would never give up. It wasn't in her. Even with her boiling emotions, she was a sitting duck. She knew that, Kier knew that.
“I loved you,” Kier shouted, lowering himself towards her in raw, desperate betrayal. But as soon as he lost his calm, he turned away to recollect himself, caught off guard by his own emotions. You took my daddy from me! “Oh, really, Kate,” he muttered in dismissive disgust — a grown she-cat calling her father daddy. And then she hit another nerve. “Eris laughed at you and so you killed her kits?” he asked, turned back towards her, and his voice was slightly raised, as if that would make Kate see how utterly crazed she sounded, how utterly, cruelly deranged. But at the mention of rats, he rolled his eyes, leaning heavily to the side and then catching himself into a slow, lazy circle. “Oh, yes, rat, rat, rat — how clever, the comparisons you all draw. And independently of each other, too,” he laughed, eyes lighting up again as the performance took over, “that’s the really impressive thing. Bat, too, when the masses are feeling a little rambunctious. I suppose my ears are rather big.” As he said it, he drifted closer to Kate, pressing his cheek against hers and grinning at her like it was an inside joke, eyes flicked to the side to lock with hers. He passed a paw demonstrably over his ear, giving it a little flick with that same, cocky grin. “I ought to keep a running tally,” he laughed. And then he swept away again, before she could snap her jaws and catch his throat.
I told her I’d slit her throat in her sleep. “Did you?” he asked absently, disinterested and aloof. So long as there was breath in his body, that would never happen. I hate YOU. He ignored her, flicking his tail dismissively as he paced a little way away once more, back turned to her. “Kate, I have no interest in fighting you. Really, it’s like me challenging you to a battle of wits — we both know who’s going to win.” The condescension in his voice was cruel and pitying. Poor, stupid little Kate. “All you do is fight, fight, fight,” the repeated words were cheerful, playful, “and where’s that gotten you? The servant of the Warden — not even,” his words bubbled with laughter, “not even the Nemesis. Oh, yes, making our grandmother proud.” He gave a patriotic little stab at the air with his clenched paw, grinning.
Finally, suddenly, he swept back around to Kate, advancing on her until he was leaning over her, a claw on his forepaw dancing at her throat like he was going to choke her. He leaned in close, eyes wide and feral. Crazed. Triumphant. “You’re at my mercy now, Kate.” His voice was a mad, whispered hiss, almost frothing, like a fox who’d cornered a wolf and found it lame, found it defenceless. “So why don’t you beg?”
She'd never once believe it. Sure they had shared a nest once upon a time, sure there were times when she would groom the blood from his furs that had came from tussles with Mal. They shared a big portion of their lives together. As they grew older, their own worlds had changed beyond recognition. The barn they had once hunted mice in together, had once snuggled near their father to listen to old stories, it was all nothing but a faded memory for the both of them. As far as she knew, Kier, had never felt love for her. Even as he said he did, Kate would never believe that.
Her lip peeled back as her sharp white teeth glinted, baring tightly together as growls bubbled in the back of her throat. So she had killed the kits? Kate was hardly surprised. Relieved, even. It was cruel, but she found little remorse for what she had done. Kier was a monster that needed to be taken out of the forest and eliminated entirely. Could it be, that only Kate had felt this uneasy feeling about her brother growing up? Somehow had a deep embedded fear that he would become a cat like this in the future? Now, here she was, helpless almost. As he drew near and pressed his cheek against hers, she felt fire there. Disgusted at his touch. Then, he pulled away before she could dig her claws in.
"At least you know who would win." Kate hissed. Then, there came the jab of speaking of her namesake. It was something oddly important to Kate, that she live up to whom she was named after. Her nose crinkled.
Her older littermate, his claws on her neck. Crazed seeming, one cat holding her down, another threatening death. Telling her to beg, as if she were some wild hound.
"No." Kate jerked her head away from the loyal guard, her nape ripping as she did. Pushing past the sudden pain and the blood swelling up on her back, she smacked her claws across Kier's face as hard as she could. Kate rolled to her paws and gave one glance back at Kier. "I'll never beg anyone for anything. Especially not you."
Then she ran. Kate would have stayed and fought Kier to the death, but he'd been too much of a coward to fight her alone. Or perhaps, he was smart. Just as Kate was, her short legs sprinting through the wood, though she'd always been slower than Kier in speed. Especially now... that she was so heavily injured. Think Kate. What do you do? Soon her runs were slowing even more, the wounds inflicted burning like fire as she began to limp. It was there, that she found herself in the same spot she'd chased Eris to. The log had been where Eris had sheltered in attempts to hide from her. Kate shook her head, even this would not work for her. The scent of her blood was heavy in the air, and gave a clear path where she was.
Her sides heaved as she tried to breathe, tried to think. Where are all the damn league cats when you need them? She was alone in this. A sitting duck. She could only attempt to hide, but she knew, he'd find her. So she limped to the log, and waited. Maybe she could claw his eyes out...
As he stood there over her, close and slightly hunched, his claws brushing his sister's throat, the gears in his mind began to turn. If he took her back with him, if Eris could be forced to confront the reality that Kate didn’t have their kits within the safety, the gentleness, of their own home… The claws of his other forepaw drummed on the spongey ground as he thought, as a perfect picture began to form, began to settle over the two of them. Until finally, his eyes lit up and slowly widened with an ominous pleasure: she had a purpose.
And then her claws hit him. He'd been so deep in his mind that the unexpected pain sent him jerking backwards, paw flying to his cheek as his vision briefly warped and twisted; he doubled over slightly, winded. But it only lasted a moment; he had a task now.
And so, when she ran, he was after her before he’d had time to suck in his next breath. She wasn’t his sister, she wasn’t a living, breathing thing — she was just the warm mound of flesh that would bring his mate back to him. She was just an instrument to be used. His eyes were alive with the hunt of it, sadistically gleeful with it; never before had their roles been reversed, never before had she been the mouse and he the cat. He was going to tear her limb from limb; once she’d served her purpose, the only purpose she had left on earth, she would break slowly at his claws, and then she would feed the hungry worms. Kier pelted through the dark, twisting woods, quick as anything; he didn't seem to feel any of the strain or exhaustion of exertion — he just ran, silent and fast.
It wasn't long before he found her, slowing to a stop in the clearing until he finally stopped with a little hop from his forward momentum. He was purring as he slunk over to the log, giving it an unhurried, interested lap and resisting the urge to skip. He knew he was there as soon as he saw it; a kithood of finding hiding spots out of nothing, of seeing one in every room, gave him a keen eye. And for the first time, it was him hunting his sister. Finally, when he had enough of circling and toying with her, giving her hope that maybe he hadn't seen the little shuffle through the cracks in the log, he suddenly threw himself forward, chest brushing the leaf litter and sending leaves flying, and gripped her back leg with his claws. Hauling her out, he dragged her into the open air and immediately, when she was scarcely free of her shelter, let go and backhanded her across the face. “Oh, caaareful, Kate," he laughed, blood beading on his own whiskers and dripping down his cheek as he followed her, "wouldn’t want to damage the goods.” She was of no use to him if she was unrecognisable by the time he hauled her back to NightClan. That was all she was now: goods, a commodity, a freak to be locked in a cage and have tuppence charged to view and sneer at. Just as the rogue who’d borne his kits had been a womb, so his sister became a thing to bring his mate back to him.
messing with the timeline again but it's necessary shh
She felt helpless. For the first time in her life, she felt... afraid. Kate could feel her breath picking up, but she tried her best to control it. In, out, in out... breathe she told herself. The calico feline shrunk further back into the hollowed log, her ears pinned tightly to her skull. Every crackle the leaves made in the wind she found herself jumping at. Then, she felt something more than fear. She felt anger. Anger at the fact that her brother couldn't face her alone, anger at the fact that this might very well be where she would die, all because he couldn't be less of a coward.
Then there wasn't even a split second to react. A sharp stabbing pain hooked into her hind leg, and she could feel the claws digging in as deep as they could to drag her out. Her green eyes were wide as she seen the true monster her brother had become. She tried to scramble backwards, away from him, but even as he let his paw smack across her face she sucked in a sharp breath. Her head jerked to the side, and it was then that she saw the second cat catching up to Kier.
This was it. Kier could do anything he wanted, and there was absolutely nothing Kate could do to stop him. Her lip peeled back to show her teeth, she ground them together as she hissed, shrinking back. "Kill me then, coward."
"What," Kier cooed, drunk on the sight of his sister defenceless, on the contrast to their entire youth, on the staring disbelief his younger self would have felt at seeing such a reversal, "no fight? You've tried so valiantly to goad me into one all this time and now you don't want it? Is little Katie afraid of her big brother? There's really no need to be; I'm not angry." As he said it, he backhanded her from the other side, clacking the back of her head against the brim of the log. "But," a laugh bubbled past his teeth as he stood there, perfectly casual, flexing his claws in and out and watching her dried blood split along them, "I suppose you've tired yourself out battering pregnant she-cats." Then, Kier's gaze followed hers and he glanced over his shoulder, still standing over her. "What, him?" He looked back at Kate. "You're worried about him? Still no respect for me, is there?" He whipped his paw up and caught her cheeks in his claws, holding her still. "I'm the one you should worry about."
At her hiss, he looked suddenly bored, like they'd been over this and she'd missed the point. He dropped her face and turned away, his voice weary, like she was the most insufferable and dim-witted thing in the world. "No, Kate, I'm not going to kill you. You're going to come back to NightClan with us, and when you're there you're going to be useful for the first time in your spoiled little life. And then, Kate, it isn't me you'll to have to worry about." He laughed, like it was a terrific joke, like all the pieces lined up so pleasingly. "Oh, Eris is going to be so pleased to see you."
Then he suddenly whirled back to her, voice cheerful. "While we're on the subject, though, would you like to know how our father looked as he died at my paws?" His eyes were wide and bright with genuine delight. All guilt about the subject was gone; now, it was just a weapon to hurt Harley's daughter with. "Come, come, we can talk on the way." He tried to usher her up, looming so close their muzzles almost touched, but it was half-hearted, eyes never blinking, never leaving hers; what he really wanted was one last show of resistance. One last flare up. One last fight. It was a challenge. Come on.
His words were like fire in her ears. Each syllable that slunk its way from his tongue felt as if they were stinging wounds. How had it come to this? Disbelief settled in her as she gazed up at her brother with pained eyes. Once upon a time that had a possibility of reconciling. Yet, everything had changed the moment he'd made the decision to murder their father. It had changed everything about the trio, so deeply that there was no repairing of this relationship. No, there was only hate a cruelty to each action that was exchanged.
More pain as his paw smacked across her face, a sharp breath inhaling through her nose as she felt the anger begin to rise in her once more. However, she had little to no energy to continue this fight. Her body was exhausted and only seeming to react to the pain that laced through it. Her adrenaline that had been keeping her going was beginning to ebb away as she had started to realize she was in an impossible situation. Kate saw no way out of this, her eyes flashing with black and blue from her collision against the log. A small grunt had came from her as she blinked a few times, attempting to regain her vision. Before she had entirely regained it, claws pricked at her cheeks. A slight whimper managed to work its way from her lips as he tugged at her skin, making her eyes meet his. It was then that her vision had cleared and she found herself looking into the devilish eyes of her littermate. Hate flashed in her own eyes, jerking her head slightly away from his clutches and ripping her own skin. Kate finally took a breath in as he dropped her face and it was released from his claws. Shaking her head a little she rolled from her back to her paws once more. She was hunkered over, shoulders slouched. Looking much unlike her cocky self, yet still somehow managing to give a slight smirk as she took her shaking paws and stumbled to stand. Her stance was pitiful really. Her paws shook obviously, her wounds screamed at her to stop being stubborn and simply give in. Despite her body telling her to back down, Kate found a little light left in her.
That cocky smirk flitted along her lips as she gave a stiff shrug.
"Are you sure Eris won't shrink back and hide like she did before? You snakes and rats are all the same to me."
Then he spun around to face her again, but her paws faltered and she found herself struggling to stand. Breathing heavily, she found her eyes trailing up to his, and she could see it before he even spoke. The incoming blow, this time a mental one. The hardest attack for Kate to fend off. Her smirk faded the moment he began to speak, her ears pinning once more against her skull. A weak growl managed from her throat, her green eyes narrowing to slits.
Then he started to push her up, and she growled again. Another rush of adrenaline pushed through her veins. The thing about siblings with such a war, was that they knew exactly what to say to get them angry. They knew all the right attacks and tactics to take, they knew exactly how to hurt one another in the worst way possible. "Get off me." She snarled, her claws flashing out as she took a swipe at his face. Kate stumbled again, tripping, falling to her stomach.
"You're not taking me anywhere, Kier." Though, who was she to fight now? Blood loss was making her dizzy, making her paws unsteady. Kier had inflicted some pretty rough wounds, and as much as Kate liked to act like she was fearless and immortal, she wasn't. She bled just like the rest of them.
Even as she spoke those words, she knew the truth. It began to set in, her eyes dulling and flashing with fear and realization. What was Kier going to do to her if not kill her? Kate was not used to pain, it was more likely that she inflicted the pain on others. It was usual for her to suffer from much, as her fighting skill had always been extremely well for her age. Yet, here she was... beaten down and about to be taken from her own territory.
Pain. It hurt. She grimaced. "Stay away from me." Her words were eerily quiet, her bobbed tail gave a weak twitch. She didn't want to know what torment he was going to put her through. Would it be better than death? Kate wondered if she could make it through it, she was a strong cat. Surely, she could. She'd get out, and she'd go back to the league. No, he wasn't going to take her at all.
Her claws flexed in the grass, her eyes shifting along his face as she tried to reel her mind for a way to get out. Her eyes shifted to the trees, then the water. Could Kier swim?
At his sister's comment about Eris, trying so hard to be fearless, Kier laughed, truly laughed, like she were the funniest thing in the world. His shoulders shook with it. "No, Kate, don't you worry about Eris," he replied when he was done, still grinning down at her so harmlessly, almost fondly, his head tilted slightly. He reached out and stroked his paw idly this way and that over her cheek, forcing her head to move wherever he wanted it. He rested his own cheek against his shoulderbone as he watched, smiling. "I think you'll find a queen in her own palace is quite different to one caught out on the street. But! Enough talk. Let us—"
Her claws swept across his face, catching him under his eye and across the bridge of his nose. Kier stumbled backwards, closing his eyes and shaking his head free of the sudden blood. "Well!" he exclaimed, eyes still closed, but he didn't sound angry. "I'm getting quite the battering today." He laughed and, smearing the blood from his face with the back of one already bloodied paw and blinking open his eyes, padded back over to his sister. "No harm done — who doesn't like a few becoming scars? I'm sure Eris won't mind. Now." Slinking around beside her, he bundled her up, forcing her to her paws with the overhanging threat of his guard hanging over her. He stayed close beside her, pelts pressed together and warmth bleeding into each other, and turned his head to smile at her. "No more hysterics." He smiled for a moment longer, and then suddenly shoved her forward.
When her gaze drifted over to the water, Kier's followed. "No, no, Kate," he interrupted her train of thought, ushering her kindly along, "come now." He sounded faintly amused, like he was humouring a kit's attempts at very clever subversion and strategy — there was no need to be cruel anymore; she had already lost, was no more than a subdued, pathetic thing hunkered down between him and his guard. He loved the sight. Kier could imagine a desperate scrabble in the water, could imagine his head being forced under and another life drowned from him, and he wasn't about to put himself in that position, wasn't about to let her get the upperhand back and escape or humiliate him. He was wily, unscrupulous; she was strong. They may very well be an equal match in the water, and what use was the both of them dying in such an unfitting and anticlimactic way? No, until she was safely tucked away in a prison cell, down in the cold, empty dark, they'd both have to contain themselves. They could be perfect gentlemen, couldn't they? Or, well, lady and gentleman. He cringed to call her such. "None of that. Don't make me grab your scruff - it'll be very undignified. No. It's a long walk back to NightClan; you'll want to conserve your strength." He tittered, high like moth wings thwacking together in the dry dark, and it was bloodthirsty. He shoved his sister along again, letting her drift ahead so he could hang in her shadow close behind her. Kier's pupils were so blown his eyes looked black. "You'll need it."
She'd stumbled most of the way there. Had hoped, had thought, perhaps that one of the league cats would be able to find them, would rip Kier to shreds. However, the assassin was alone in this. So alone, that she could feel it. Yet, she could only focus on walking. Each time Kier shoved her, she felt her paws give way underneath her. Each time he made a snide remark, she found herself unable to give a usual witty response. Instead, she focused on walking. It was all Kate could manage. Her vision had blurred in and out a few times, and her body felt too weak to continue fighting on. Instead, she would have to give in. It was the only way to ensure her survival this far.
She knew the moment they had passed into NightClan territory. It smelled like Kier did now, and it was rather sour on her nose. Yet, she remembered there was one cat she had met prior with that scent. Though, it was more welcomed. Snowblister crossed her mind, and she found herself momentarily closing her eyes as she let the thought of the beauty comfort her in some way. Finally, she opened her eyes and they made their way into NightClan. She was sure she would see Snowblister, as she was the monster's deputy. She wondered just show the deputy felt about her, but didn't have much time to question it.
It was then that cats began to notice Kate, battered and covered in blood. Their eyes watching curiously, and then seeing Kier enter the camp. Kate lifted her head slightly, her lip curling up as she gave a warning growl to those who had wandered too close. It was clear that the feline was saying, Stay away from me. She limped forward, her eyes searching the crowd, before finally stopping.
"Be a good girl," Kier told his sister as he stopped beside her in the centre of the camp, and it meant stay here. He didn't acknowledge the crowd whispering around them, the crowd that parted fearfully as he made to move through it, but he was mightily pleased by it; now let them see, he thought. Let them see what happens when a claw is laid on Eris. Let them see how quickly justice is measured out when it's the foremost couple in NightClan that's touched. Kier didn't ask anyone to move, and he didn't need to; they swept back like the red sea as he stalked between them.
Breaking into a lithe, bounding run, he slipped into the medicine den and, out of the public view, circled quick and anxious around his mate's nest. She still smelled of blood. "My love," he greeted in a tender whisper thick with worry, leaning down to nudge gently at her neck fur. Kier was in a sorry state, but he felt none of it; his fur was dry with the flood of blood that had seeped into it, fresh wounds crusted across his cheeks, his nose, his stomach, but he seemed not to notice it. The only pain he felt was vicarious. He was dizzy with grief, with hysterical agony he had no way to name, to handle, to survive; but when he was doing something, when he was solving the problem, when he was bringing the prize before his mate like a lord presenting a tamed, broken tiger — it was alright. "My darling. Mousey." He crouched down in front of her, on the bare earth beside her makeshift nest, and reached out with one forepaw to gently brush her cheek, her shoulder. Kier smiled, so pained and worried but trying to be what she needed. One of them had to keep going. One of them had to take the other's love, the other's life, and wear it upon their own shoulders until the other was strong enough to take it back. And he would carry the world for her. He would delude himself for the rest of his life. He leaned forward and brushed his tongue across her cheek, smoothing the wayward fur. And when he leaned back, he spoke again, so quiet, like he was offering something to a fawn that might shy away. "I've brought something for you." Kate's scent clung to him. Her blood. The work of her claws through his fur. "Come — can you stand? It'll do you good." Pushing himself slightly to his paws, he nudged his mate up, and despite the gentleness, he didn't touch her like she was made of glass — she was stronger than anything, than any brute and any king, and the strength with which he nudged her up said he believed, he had to believe, that she would overcome this, that she would not be the victim of slow, wasting grief. She would survive. She would thrive. She wasn't a ghost; she was a queen. Maybe it was denial; maybe it was worship. She couldn't be conquered by this — nothing could conquer her. Nothing in the world.
Nothing...
It was his hope, his greatest hope in the world, that being able to hurt the one who'd done this to her might bring Eris back to him. His sister now mattered no more than a punching bag did — he was offering her up to his mate on a silver platter, like she were some silent, inanimate prize. There was no guilt at the prospect, only a blind desperation, too afraid to hope, to breathe. "Come, my love," he urged softly, never leaving her side, a watery, encouraging smile plastered on his face.
The days were either slept through or passed in a blur. Eris hardly spoke anything coherent if she said anything at all, and for the most part the words had escaped her in fitful sleeps drenched in nightmares of violence and distortion and familiar elements like tea rooms and chapels. She didn't remember the words Kier spoke to her, or the pull of her fresh wounds, or why she was even there in the first place. It was all a haze. Nearing the end of her stay, she began to grow more coherent, and she was even able to keep a small conversation in the times she was awake, though none of it had quite come back to her yet. Twilightdance wasn't very good company — though perhaps that was her bitterness speaking — and she always found herself longing for Kier by her side whenever she was awake.
My darling. Mousey. It had been one of the times she was asleep, and where she previously would have awoken to the touch furious or terrified, now she could recognize the gentleness of her mate. Her eyes opened, wide and empty, almost unnatural. "Good morning." Her voice was hollow, though much more pleasant than it was the rare chances she spoke to anyone else. I've brought something for you. She felt a numb curiosity and nothing more, though it was enough to drive her to move. Unsteadily, she rose to stand by his side, not feeling the need to say a word more, not questioning his gift like she usually would have, not bothering to answer any of his concerns at all. She followed at a pace slower than normal, giving only a slight wince at her healing injuries, expecting nothing more than a simple, romantic gesture — it would have done well to cheer her up, though she didn't consider that in the moment, but neither did she wonder what it was all about. It felt strange leaving the den. She hadn't seen the rest of camp since before she left. Left for. . . what? She didn't push it further. The crowd watched with bewildered, intrigued eyes, surprised to see their queen out at all, especially at the entrance of an intruder than Eris had yet to notice.
As they approached, she finally lifted her eyes from where they had been trailing the ground. "What is. . ." she trailed off, eyes focusing on a figure that she didn't recognize at first. A calico pelt, a stubbed tail, green eyes. The scent of fresh blood filled her nose. She hadn't noticed it before. A battered and beaten Kate stood before her, glare ever so apparent. The haze lifted, and for a moment her thoughts were too loud. Run, they told her, before she kills you. Eris stumbled back.
"Someone detain her! Get that brute away from me!" She screeched, turning to Kier, eyes burning with more emotion than she had felt since the attack. "Why did you bring her here? Are you trying to kill me?" Her voice shook, and for a moment all she could see in Kier's place was Kate.
Good? Kate was far from good. Her seething green eyes followed Kier until he disappeared, leaving her standing surrounded basically. So many unfamiliar faces peered at her, making her pelt burn. Kate curled her lip, her claws slashing out at the air as if to scare them back further. Which, worked. They saw this strange cat, covered in blood, yet still willing to fight? It was almost unheard of. However, there was one thing her brother never would manage. To break her spirit. No matter what he did to her, Kate was a fighter. She had been since birth.
The calico feline waited for what felt like forever, and then, suddenly.. There Eris was. She could see the flash of emotions that darted through Eris so quickly, and she recognized the fear right away. Kate felt a smirk pulling upon her white lips, her stubbed tail twitching behind her form as she took a step forward. "Still scared I see?" Laughter bubbled in her chest as she let a growl echo from it, teeth baring as she jumped forward. She knew she wouldn't be able to touch Eris with this many cats around, especially Kier. However, she would torment her while she could. "Didn't I tell you I'd slit your throat in your sleep? What better way than to reside where you live...." It was cruel, how she spoke. However, Kate cared not. She wanted them to suffer, even if it meant she did to.
"Run away little rat." She hissed, snapping at the air towards the fearful queen. This was a display never seen in NightClan. Kate was obviously pushing limits, and the rest of the clan saw this. Must be embarrassing, the way you seem to control these clan cats, but can't even control me. Her eyes trailed to Kier, smirking.
The second Eris' gaze lit with fear, with anger, Kier knew he had misjudged. His eyes widened, ears flattening with the lightning-quick regret that flashed through him, confronted by the helpless realisation that he’d misstepped so disastrously. The fact they weren’t alone suddenly both disappeared and amplified: he was desperate to calm her, to soothe her — and he was so aware that they were making a scene where the whole of NightClan could see them, where his sister could see them. The grief for his mate warred with the need to maintain the calmness, the image, the unknowable, impenetrable decorum of the royal family. “Eris,” he babbled immediately, so panicked to explain himself, to diffuse the situation, trying to be quiet, to be comforting, despite the pounding in his chest, “no, no — she’s already detained. I brought her here for you. For you, Mousey.”
He couldn’t care that he was dropping everything that made him the Kier the Clan knew — all he could feel was their eyes on him, picking him apart, making his pelt burn, but for Eris, only for Eris, he chose her; he always chose her. He braved the loss of status, the humiliation, the public display of just what kind of utter hold Eris had over him. His eyes were tortured and desperate and real, his body language softer, everything about him gentle, submissive. He dared to approach her, slow and soothing, like she were a wild creature, crouched slightly so she wouldn’t attack him. The fact he already knew what to do was a tragedy in itself: he was so used to his mate being broken that he immediately fell into the compliant, grovelling love that kept her away from the edge. His eyes were sleepless with it. “For you,” he repeated so quietly, closer to her now but still not touching, desperate eyes never leaving hers, “so you can have revenge.”
The breath caught in his throat at the way she looked at him — like she didn’t know him, like he’d done this to cause her deliberate harm. He felt his heart fracture.
And then Kate interrupted. “Will you shut your damn mouth for five GODDAMN SECONDS?” Kier shouted, slow at first and then rising to enflamed hatred, half-whirling about to face her from where he stood between his mate and his sister. His voice was so deathly serious, so violently humourless — he was being torn between the loving deference Eris needed and the frayed temper Kate was snapping apart with every breath she took. He couldn’t be the actor NightClan was used to him being — no one was giving him the chance; he’d had to completely abandon it. Everything was too real, too hateful, too fast-moving. He was drained to empty, adrenalised to pure survival, and the only thing left was Kier without pretence. “Or I swear to god, Kate, you’ll find a muzzle round it.” With great difficulty, Kier turned back to Eris and forced himself to soften; it was tearing him apart, these polar opposite emotions. “She won’t be anywhere near you,” he told her quietly, bowing his head slightly to look at her deferentially, eyes strained but damp with love, with gentleness; the last remnant of trained performance he had left was that his heartbeat began to slow and calm as he looked at her. Or maybe that was just love. Maybe she was still his calm, just the way she always had been. His voice dropped quieter; there was just him, just her, just them. His eyes and hers. “She’ll be at your mercy. Just yours.”
Her eyes didn't leave Kate, not when Kier tried to reassure her, not when Kate spat threats that only made her angrier. For a few fuzzy heartbeats, none of it made sense, it was all too loud, all too much, and the eyes of the clan began to burn. She wanted to yell at them to leave, curse them all out for the cave-dwelling, dirty little rodents they were, but her paws were glued to the floor and her jaw wouldn't move. Her top teeth pressed down so hard they began to press into her gums. The words sounded in her ears but she struggled to make sense of them, far too caught up in the confusion of the moment to comprehend such a thing, far too out of her mind. She had just stepped out of the medicine cat's den for the first time since she had gotten there and already she felt the need to hole herself away again. Kier's shout startled her. She flinched, blinked like the very action surprised her — she hadn't been startled by such things for moons and moons, and certainly she never showed such fearful reactions purposefully.
She’ll be at your mercy. Just yours.
It was like the room itself shifted with her expression, from the strange mix of numbness and agony to a completely composed, bright attitude. She understood now, as the words reached her ears, eyes still focusing on Kate. She could see her for what she was now, not some monster, not some beast, just a hard-headed, dim-witted cockroach that had found its way under her paws. She gave a short chuckle, and then a giggle, and then a laugh, loud and long, utterly amused and enamoured with the predicament. She pressed her muzzle to Kier's cheek, smile wide and fresh, "you are absolutely right, my dear. Mine," padding past him, tail trailing his side, she stood before Kate, still keeping her distance, "mine." She repeated the words louder this time. "Mine!"
Eris leaned in, face a taunting, superior smile, "and you are going to wish you had never laid a claw on me or my kits." She snapped upright, looking around expectantly, rebuilding the fear she tried to instill in all of them after her public display of weakness. "Put her in the prisoner's den for now. I'll pay her a visit as soon as I can. Her name is not to be spoken of. We'll find a new location shortly, of course — we don't want you here."
