Username: Embergleam
Clan: In The Wake Of Giants
Quest Number: #3
Response:
In which Duskbloom has a crush, and Owlflight gives her a hard time about it.
"So when are you going to tell her?"
Duskbloom made a point of not looking up from the herbs she was sorting. She could feel Owlflight watching her, feel the patient expectation in his gaze. It made her want to...
What did she want to do? Be sick? Lash out at him? Flee before he could steer the conversation into more unsettled waters? She wasn't sure, really, and didn't care to examine the topic either. Best to bat it aside like one of Flicker's cast-off feathers.
"No idea what you're talking about, 'Flight."
Flicker, perched on a branch overlooking their workspace, made a sound of unmistakable avian disgust. Owlflight himself was somewhat more generous. He merely made a sound of acknowledgement and returned to the task at paw. For a time they worked in silence, but Duskbloom knew better than to trust an Owlflight gone quiet. Most of the Wake assumed Owlflight had been named for his markings. After all, they were almost eerily reminiscent of the bewinged hunters that patrolled the night sky. Duskbloom and Ivystar knew better. They knew all too well the keen mind and predator cunning that lay beneath the cheerful exterior.
"...I don't mind you lying to me, Dusk. But you might want to be honest with yourself."
And there it was, the bolt from the blue that Duskbloom had been waiting for. Owlflight had- had always had- an uncanny knack for cutting through to the hearts of matters. It had won him the praise and admiration of Ridgeclan when they were youngsters. Now, firmly in the healer's proverbial crosshairs, she found herself resenting that skill and every experience that had honed it.
"What do you want me to do, 'Flight?" Duskbloom sat back with a huff, herbs momentarily forgotten. They could safely sit unattended for a few minutes. A conversation with one of the most important cats in her life couldn't. No, this needed to be dealt with now, no matter how much the thought of it made her stomach churn.
"Nothing rash." Owlflight too set his work aside, turning his whole and undivided attention onto Duskbloom. She looked... drawn, he decided, like a kit who hadn't eaten enough in the run-up to a growth spurt. It worried him almost as much as the doubt and guilt in her eyes did. The black cat with the tattered ear had come a long, long way from the kitten who'd clung to the twins' shadows, but every now and again ghosts of her past self came back to haunt her. He'd seen far too many of them lately, and always when Ivystar was involved. It hadn't taken much digging to figure out why.
"I hate you a little bit right now." Duskbloom sighed, willing her heart to settle, her paws to still. She could do this. She could have this conversation. She could trust Owlflight with her heart, as she had so many times in the past.
More than that, she could trust herself with her heart, and her future besides. Could. Would. Had to.
"I... I don't know how to tell her." It hurt to admit even that much, but Duskbloom soldiered on anyway, before the ache in her throat could steal her voice entirely. "Or when, for that matter. There's always so much going on these days, and poor Ivystar's right at the heart of most of it. I don't want to be another burden for her to carry."
Another sound of annoyance from Flicker, who shuffled around on her perch to put her back to Duskbloom. It was as close to a scathing retort as a little owl could come, and stung rather more than Duskbloom had expected it too. Owlflight looked from bird to deputy and back again before picking the thread of conversation back up.
"Feelings aren't burdens, even when they're inconvenient. They're part of being alive. Weren't you just lecturing Aldertrail about that this morning?"
Duskbloom's glare could've curdled milk. Of course he'd overheard that interaction. Of course he'd polished that lesson to a mirror sheen and held it right back up to her. It was precisely the sort of thing a true friend with an excellent grasp on the situation would do... but stars above, she didn't have to like it!
"You weren't supposed to hear that," She grumbled, looking anywhere but at the healer's grinning face.
"I know all kinds of things I'm not supposed to," Owlflight chirped, "And you're trying to change the topic. You love her, Dusk. You have for seasons, probably longer. Why not just tell her and be done with it?"
Breathe in, breathe out, slow and steady. Don't panic. Panic is the enemy, be it in combat or in peacetime. It turns warriors into wrecking balls and diplomats into disasters. No, Duskbloom wouldn't allow herself to panic, even as fear wrapped cold claws around her heart and squeezed.
"Because I'm her deputy, 'Flight! How could I ask Ivystar to choose between me and the clan if push came to shove!? There's a reason leaders and deputies are forbidden from becoming mates, you know-"
Duskbloom's rant died on her lips, interrupted by a sudden gale of... laughter? Yes, Owlflight was laughing, and so was Flicker, for that matter. Both of them were giggling so hard Duskbloom had to sit and wait for them to pull themselves together, confusion and annoyance growing by the minute.
"That's what's got you all tied up in knots?!" Owlflight dissolved into a fresh fit of giggles, collecting himself only when Duskbloom growled under her breath. "Oh, by all the stars in the sky- Dusk, look around you!"
She did as bidden, expecting to see some new threat lurking in her periphery. Instead she saw... comforting familiarity. Half-a-dozen cats were scattered about the camp, each tending to one of the humdrum duties that kept a clan going. She knew each and every one of them inside and out. There was Nighteyes, busily carving a chart of the stars into a flat piece of wood with one clawtip. A dozen fox-lengths past them stood Aldertrail and Stormhaven, wholly engrossed in a discussion about the clan's defenses. Just visible past them were Fogwatch and Whisperwind, the clan's resident romantics. They'd been snuggled together since the former had returned from a days-long hunting trip at sun-high.
It made for a pretty picture, sure, but Duskbloom couldn't see how that scene of domestic bliss tied in with her current... conundrum. Some of her confusion must've shown on her face, too, as Owlflight shouldered against her, earnest and entreatying all at once.
"We're not fighting tooth and claw for survival anymore. We're *living.* Stars, I'd say we're thriving! We can handle some turnover in the ranks, even if that means our illustrious deputy has to step down to avoid a conflict of interest. Someone can step in and take your place, especially for something as important as this."
Duskbloom... just sat there for a few moments, turning that thought over and over in her head. Yes, she had enjoyed her tenure as the Wake's second in command, had excelled at it beyond even her own wildest imaginings... but was it what she really wanted?
Whether she admitted it or not- and she wouldn't, not with the whole of the Dark Forest at her heels- Duskbloom had accepted the role of deputy partly because it meant staying close to the twins. If she twined her life through theirs, ensured she was always valuable to them, she need never worry about being left behind again. And she had, almost effortlessly. Ivystar valued her opinion above almost any other in the clan. Owlflight and Whisperwind conferred with her whenever Starclan sent them signs from beyond. The whole of the Wake looked up to her as an authority figure, and most of them loved her for it.
But there was that nagging question again: was adulation and power what she wanted?
Sat in front of the medicine den, the clan's laughter in her ears, Duskbloom was forced to admit the truth. A position of authority had never been her end goal. Belonging had been, and safety, and the love of her best and oldest friend.
She didn't need to be a deputy to earn that. She simply needed to be herself.
...and to speak up before it was too late.
"Go talk to her." Owlflight nudged Duskbloom again, more gently this time, and his gaze held none of the pity she half-feared she might find. "Lay it all out and see what happens. Worst case scenario she'll let you down gently. Best-case scenario..."
Owlflight jerked his chin towards Whisperwind and Fogwatch, still contentedly cuddled together watching the sun set. The story of their (...some said sickeningly) sweet romance had taken the entire Wake by storm. Some neighboring clans had even taken up the refrain, holding their relationship up as something for kits and single adults alike to aspire to. Here, they said, were two cats who loved each other as much as they respected each other, whose strengths made up for the other's weaknesses, who faced the storms of life as a team and came out the stronger for them.
"...you end up like them, and Clouddance starts singing 'The Ballad of Duskbloom and Ivystar'. It's got a ring to it, wouldn't you say?"
Duskbloom couldn't help herself: she buried her face in her paws and prayed that her fur would hide her furious blushing. Yes, it did have a ring to it, but she'd sooner be skinned alive than admit it aloud. What if someone heard?!
...Stars, what if Ivystar heard?!
"Alright, alright, I'll talk to her! Just- stop talking about it, before the whole blessed clan hears you!"
"There ya go!" Owlflight sat back on his haunches, pleased as a kit up past their bedtime. "Last I heard she's out near the north border with Oceanfoam and Moonhaze. I'll bet you could meet 'em at the river crossing if you hurried."
Duskbloom did precisely that, trotting off with her tail high and her ears pitched forward. She was, Owlflight noted, the most focused he'd seen her in moons. He waited, expression carefully schooled into neutrality, until his old friend had disappeared into the brush at the edge of camp. Then and only then did he allow himself a grin so broad it threatened to take in his whiskers.
"...I give it an hour 'til Ivystar breaks and admits she had that exact same conversation with me yesterday. She always was awful at keeping secrets. 'Specially from Dusk!"
Flicker, still perched overhead, broke into giggles all over again. This right here was why the leadership of the Wake made such a fearsome team: they could be painfully honest with each other even when they struggled to be honest with themselves.
Word Count: 1,802 words.
