Lost Creek Hollow Butterflyfish

She is.

Though his heart sunk, he felt glad to know this. He felt glad that there was someone who had not left him, had not taken his heart away with them. If she was good to him, that was all that mattered. If she loved him with all of herself, Crowfeather could not ask for anything more.

Germanicus stumbled over the next words. The dark star watched him, longing to be closer, to press himself to the man’s bloodied chest with his heart until they beat together.

He spoke of his strength, of… regret? Crowfeather did not think it true. Strength had nothing to do with love. When he had looked upon the man in the canyon, he had believed that he was fulfilled by his life. He had believed with his heart that Germanicus had known love and had felt it for the woman he had first married. He did not know the woman who was wed to the older man, now. Crowfeather knew only that she had sent him to Riverclan.

I was only afraid.

The shadow felt his heart tighten. He had been afraid, too. He had been afraid of all the things his father had said to him – wrong, unlovable, abomination, disgraceful.

Crowfeather had never known the love of another man because it had been steeped with shame.

He did not wish Germanicus to feel this.

Fearful, the black figure with three legs pressed his snout beneath the silver eagle’s chin and lifted it up.

You do not need to be afraid, he said lovingly. You never need to be afraid with me.

Crowfeather knew that he had held these feelings inside him for too long. They scratched and clawed at the glimpse of light – the opening doorway. If he spoke these words to Germanicus, he knew that he must accept them for himself. If he did not speak what his heart screamed in each desperate, thrumming, painful beat… he would live his life in regret.

We fear the thing we want the most, Mothwing had told him the day of her death. He had not understood until he had known Germanicus.

I do not love you for your strength and grit, for your set jaw, or the harsh cartography of your muscled back. I do not love you for your sharp corners. A daring flare of fire erupted in his belly. Crowfeather leaned in to kiss at his jaw. I wish to soothe the hurt inside you. To calm your fear. To look at this raw-eyed vulnerability with my open heart, Germanicus. Those unarmored parts of the man which felt like they were Crowfeather’s and his alone.

You are not at war, the shadow whispered as he tucked his snout into the man’s throat. Slow down. Breathe deep. Drop your guard.

A shaky breath was exhaled.

No one is chasing you but me. The air was thin in his lungs. And I love you so.