Chapter Text
Two weeks ago
A mournful silence hung over the pine forest and marshland, accompanied by the moonlight shining down from above and the occasional call of a lone owl. Half hidden in the darkness, thirty-five cats gathered around a hole in the ground. Inside lay the lifeless body of a black tom, ribs jutting from his sides and the stench of sickness still lingering on his pelt.
“May the shadows protect you, and the moon watch over you,” a white and pale grey cat whispered, crouching over the grave. The words were echoed quietly by the Clan.
A red tabby she-cat moved forward, her eyes dark with grief. Between her teeth, she gently held the stem of a beautiful flame-coloured flower, its five petals speckled with gold. “Go swiftly to StarClan, old friend,” she murmured as she dropped the flower and let it drift down to rest on the dead cat’s flank.
The others moved forward and, one by one, began to scrape the earth back into the hole, even the kits. A large tabby watched the ritual with a heavy expression, waiting for his turn. None of them objected when he stepped up to add a pawful of dirt, not the first time or the second, or even the third. He stifled a satisfied whisker-twitch at that. He had done well to integrate with them.
“Tigerclaw,” a white tom with black paws hissed as he dropped back again. “Are you really ready to-”
“Quiet, Blackfoot,” he muttered back, sending an apologetic glance to the cats who glanced back sharply at the disturbance. “We’ll talk about it at camp. Go and wait with the others.”
Blackfoot hesitated, then narrowed his eyes and stalked off. Tigerclaw watched him go carefully. The former deputy had served loyally under Brokenstar and followed him to exile, before attacking ThunderClan more than once and pledging his loyalty to Tigerclaw after his own banishment. But now that they were back in ShadowClan, Tigerclaw’s faith in him was faltering. His plans for the future were great, but he wasn’t convinced Blackfoot was entirely devoted to their goals.
No matter. Tigerclaw didn’t need Blackfoot anymore - although the respect he still drew would be very helpful. No, Tigerclaw had plenty of other allies now, both ShadowClan-born and not. He had started small, garnering the support of only the cats who were itching for a fight and wanted a reason to provoke ThunderClan. But as he’d hunted prey for them, saving the lives of the sick cats, and had officially joined their Clan, he had earned their trust and managed to spread his own beliefs through their ranks. His followers whispered in other warriors’ ears when nobody was looking, implying that ShadowClan needed a strong leader, someone who wasn’t afraid to do what needed to be done using force, someone who agreed that ShadowClan was growing to be weak and needed to be powerful again. Someone like Tigerclaw.
He couldn’t tell them all of his ideas, of course. He would have to wait until he took control for that. If they learned now that he wanted to unify the entire forest under himself, well, they might agree with the concept. After all, how great would it be if everyone believed what they did and their rules were enforced throughout all the Clans? But they wouldn’t like the methods that were necessary to gain this control. They would splutter and snarl if someone suggested that ShadowClan merge with another Clan. And preventing the creation of half-breeds? Many cats knew that they were better off without those corrupted by the blood of two Clans in their veins. However, they might not keep demanding for this if they realised that the only way to get rid of them was through killing. Not everyone had the stomach to slaughter prisoners in cold blood.
No, Tigerclaw would have to gently introduce them to the grander steps in his plan. For now, only his closest supporters knew.
Eventually, Nightstar’s body had been completely buried, and ShadowClan began the procession back to camp, hushed murmurs finally breaking the silence. Tigerclaw wove through them, offering his condolences, and they accepted it with sad smiles and friendly responses. Russetfur even butted her head against his shoulder. Anticipation slowly rose in his chest, even if he tried to keep it in check. The time had almost arrived. Soon, he would get what he had always dreamed of.
At last, the group arrived back in the ShadowClan camp and Tigerclaw found a spot separate from his followers. He didn’t want this to seem like a grasp for power he’d set up, thought that was what it was. “Wait for them to bring it up first,” he growled in a low tone as Tangleburr padded past. She twitched her ear to signal that she’d heard.
He sat back and waited, watching his supporters from the corner of his eye. The least important of them were the cats who had been rogues alongside him - Blackfoot, Boulder, Tangleburr, Jaggedtooth, and Nightwhisper. They may have been accepted back into the Clan, but ShadowClan hadn’t yet forgotten that the former three had been loyalists of Brokenstar’s, or that they didn’t know the two former BloodClan toms all that well. Blizzardwing was by the far the most influential of Tigerclaw’s group, and he was privy to all of his aims. Then there was Deerfoot, Stumpytail, and Applepelt, two eager warriors who Tigerclaw had considered several times welcoming them into his inner circle. Darkflower was another, but she was sitting with her mate and kits on the other side of the clearing.
Alongside all of these, Tigerclaw knew he could count on the support of several others, and he was almost certain of many of the rest. This would go well, he was sure of it.
Time seemed to stretch on for eternity before one voice rose over the rest. “There’s no point in whispering about it,” Nightwing called. She leaped onto the Speaking Rock, where warriors stood when they wanted to address the whole Clan. “We’re all thinking the same thing. What in StarClan’s name is ShadowClan supposed to do now? We have no leader!”
A few anxious calls sounded in response to her question, but it was Rowanberry who spoke out next. “When Brokenstar and Blackfoot were driven out,” She cast an apologetic glance at the latter. “We held a vote for our new leader. Why wouldn’t we do the same now?”
“Have StarClan sent any messages about who it should be?” Littlecloud meowed hopefully. The short tabby, while still officially a warrior, had been helping Runningnose with his duties, and the medicine cat had promised he could become his apprentice once the Carrionplace disease was fully dealt with.
Heads turned towards Runningnose expectantly. He shuffled his paws. “I…I don’t…”
“Runningnose?” Nightwing frowned. “What do you know?”
“Almost three moons ago,” he admitted. “StarClan sent me a vision about the disease. You all know this. But what I didn’t tell you was…Well, at the end of the dream, a huge beast appeared. A tiger, or lion, maybe. It tore apart the place I was running in.”
Silence fell over the camp. Tigerclaw widened his eyes as they all turned to look at him, and it wasn’t all an act. StarClan had sent a message about him? He glanced cautiously at his followers. How this conversation continued now could go both ways for him.
“Was it a good thing that it destroyed the place?” one of the elders, Brackenfoot, questioned.
“It was nothing but darkness,” Runningnose confessed. “And the ground didn’t exist. There was the scent of sickness all around me.” He sounded both reluctant and helpless, as though it hadn’t occurred to him that he could lie.
“It’s a sign, then,” Stumpytail jumped to his paws. “Tigerclaw is supposed to be our leader!”
Tigerclaw allowed himself to look uncertain once again. Mutters rose at the exclamation, more than he would’ve liked, but the odds were in his favour.
“Tigerclaw can’t be our leader,” protested Tallpoppy. “He’s a ThunderClan cat!”
“Their deputy, no less!” Wetfoot agreed.
“Hang on,” Applepelt protested. “There’s no way you really think that he’s still loyal to ThunderClan, do you? It was his idea to take prey from them in case ours was infected, and he even suggested that we take some of their territory so we didn’t have to keep breaking the warrior code! He left them moons ago, anyway.”
“Yeah, he’s been with us for like, two moons!” Darkflower called.
“And he brought us more warriors to hunt when we were all starving.” Blizzardwing swept his tail towards the ex-rogues. “Tigerclaw is ShadowClan now. Do any of you really believe that he hasn’t been doing everything in his power to serve and protect us?”
Nobody argued with that.
“When the rest of you were shying away from the sick cats, worried only about yourselves and allowing them to go without food because you didn’t want to bring prey over them, Tigerclaw was helping Runningnose feed them,” Blackfoot put in. “He massaged their throats and dripped water into their mouths. When Frogtail died and everyone else was too weak to bury him, Tigerclaw carried out the entire ceremony by himself. There’s no one better suited for leadership than him.”
Tigerclaw took a deep breath and rose to his paws. He picked his way across the camp and stopped by the Speaking Rock. Nightwing bowed her head to him and stepped off, and he took her place. “Cats of ShadowClan,” he meowed, voice echoing around the forest. “I would be honoured to become your leader, and I swear that I hold no loyalty towards ThunderClan. Those days are over. But we shouldn’t put all of our trust in an unclear dream from StarClan from moons ago. I propose that we go with Rowanberry’s suggestion and hold a vote. Shall we lay out some rules?”
“Cats can only vote once,” Ratscar suggested.
“You can’t vote for yourself,” Fernshade meowed.
“Only warriors, queens, and elders can vote,” called Boulder.
“Good.” Tigerclaw nodded. “Voting begins now. I nominate Blizzardwing for leadership.”
Fake surprise crossed the tom’s face. “And I vote for Tigerclaw.”
“Tigerclaw,” agreed Boulder, Blackfoot, Tangleburr, Jaggedtooth, and Nightwhisper.
Newtspeck was the first to vote for someone new. “Rowanberry,” she declared.
Rowanberry blinked in surprise, then gave her vote to Scorchwind. He, in turn, voted for Rowanberry, as did Wolfstep, Flintfang, and Fernshade. Russetfur chose Blizzardwing, before Deerfoot, Applepelt, and Stumpytail named Tigerclaw as their choice. Snaketail and Hollyflower both voted Russetfur, and Scorchwind’s other two votes came from Wetfoot and Wildfur. Tigerclaw could feel his pelt rising as Rowanberry gained the support of Oakfur and Littlecloud. The last nomination was Newtspeck with the votes of Tallpoppy, Volewhisper, Snowbird, and Brackenfoot, and then Darkflower and Ratscar chose Tigerclaw. He let out a breath as Nightwing and Finchflight chose Blizzardwing. At 11, he had the most votes. He was the new leader of ShadowClan.
The camp fell quiet once again as they came to the conclusion he had. He closed his eyes as the world suddenly seemed to spin. After all this time, he had finally become leader of a Clan. When he was younger and first plotting with his mentor, Thistleclaw, he had never expected that Clan to be ShadowClan. He had always envisioned himself at the head of ThunderClan. Well, that possibility wasn’t gone forever. He would still take charge of that group of cats, just not in the conventional way.
“Thank you,” he announced, opening his eyes again. “For entrusting me with this responsibility. I swear that I will be not only the leader that you need, but the leader that you deserve.”
He met Runningnose’s gaze across the clearing - the medicine cat would need to declare it to finalise the decision. The skinny tom seemed to sway, and his expression was one of fear. He stared around, eyes pleading with someone to protest, to refuse and drive Tigerclaw out, but no one spoke up. Most of them, even those who had voted for someone else, were smiling up at their leader.
When he finally spoke, his words were hollow. “Very well. We’ll visit the Moonstone tomorrow night. If StarClan gives their blessing, Tigerclaw will become the leader of ShadowClan.”