So, uh... yeah. x.x

I have no excuses, except that real life has called. I've just started high school (I'm a fish! Whee!), and Kingdom Hearts and Tales of the Abyss have taken up most of my fandom mind.

So, yeah, you can look at this as somewhat of a companion to Worst of Friends, Best of Enemies. Remember, the Squirrel/Hawk thing I wrote almost a year ago? Anyway, this one's loosely inspired by the song The Patron Saint of Liars and Fakes by Fall Out Boy. I think Hawkfrost fits that one, don't you think?

Hopefully there will be no flames for the main pairing/love triangle/thing. I tried to make it mostly Bramble/Squirrel.
And the fairy tale references, when the Clan cats have no idea of the ideals of foolish Twoleg kits... Forgive me for that.
As for the last part... well... I haven't read Sunset in a while, so it's probably not canon to the book. You'll have to bear with me there. xD;

I will also be posting some "crack couple" things I had up a while ago, only edited and generally more spiffeh. So yeah, look for those. Enjoy this one.

Disclaimer- I don't own Warriors, as I'm pretty sure the Erins would not condone the SquirrelflightxHawkfrost hints I've put in here.

Once upon a time, there was a princess. Not in the most conventional sense of the word, but a princess all the same.

As mentioned before, this wasn't an ordinary, garden-variety princess. No, this was a she-cat, a fiery ginger she-cat with green eyes and a temper problem, who also happened to be the ThunderClan leader's daughter.

One would've thought she would get special treatment for being the spawn of the tom who saved the forest. But this was not the case.

However, it did get her special attention.

This she-cat, you see, had a bad habit for sticking her nose into problems she wasn't a part of – which, of course, was remedied later. But as of her eighth moon, this princess, then called Squirrelpaw in the tradition of Clan apprentices, became fascinated with an older warrior.

Brambleclaw.

Just as Squirrelpaw wasn't your conventional princess, Brambleclaw wasn't your conventional prince, either. No one in the forest, whether that forest was new or the old one, had really been able to get past the fact that he was practically a duplicate of his infamous father – Tigerstar, the unspoken emissary of ambition and darkness. Physically, at least, Brambleclaw and Tigerstar looked exactly alike; dark tabby fur, broad shoulders, and amber eyes.

However, Brambleclaw sought to prove his worth, to prove that he wasn't going to be a reincarnation of his father, and this caught Squirrelpaw's attention almost as soon as she was old enough to interact with the ThunderClan warriors. Needless to say, Brambleclaw had not enjoyed being the sentient being for a ginger-furred shadow, and such a young, aggravating shadow at that. Soon, though, being a very young apprentice at the time, restless and discontent with her routine life, Squirrelpaw had accompanied Brambleclaw on his journey for StarClan.

Things went well for a while. The journey was completed, with a slight detour along the way to a strange mountain tribe of cats, a slight detour that resulted in Feathertail's death; but despite their grief Brambleclaw and Squirrelpaw, as well as their friends, knew they had to keep going. The four Clans were gathered, a difficult venture but accomplished nonetheless, and they all made their way to the new forest.

But along the way, something happened that neither prince nor princess had expected.

The prince of darkness had fallen for the princess of light.

Figuratively speaking, of course – the Clans of the forest did not rank in terms of royalty or blood, though a cat born of a tom from one Clan and a she-cat from another did tend to get a bit worse treatment than pure-blooded cats. But, given the importance of each of the young cats' fathers, it seemed fitting.

Of course, they didn't realize another prince was watching them.

Hawkfrost was his name, and being Tigerstar's other son he was also a basic doppelganger of the aforementioned ShadowClan leader. Hawkfrost's appearance had one important difference, though.

That while Brambleclaw had inherited his father's burning amber eyes, Hawkfrost's gaze had taken after his mother Sasha, and his eyes were a cold, icy blue, perhaps to reflect his true nature.

As fire and ice, the two of them had gone most of their lives without even noticing one another for quite some time. It was only on the journey to the new forest that they had really noticed each other, since the Clans had discovered Hawkfrost's true heritage just before the quest.

Squirrelpaw didn't notice the two brothers growing closer until she had gained her warrior name of Squirrelflight.

And she didn't like it at all.

"Brambleclaw," Squirrelflight called, sounding almost as though she had lockjaw. "I need to talk to you."

The dark tabby tom in question flicked his ears at the sound of her name and mewed what she assumed was a quick goodbye to Hawkfrost before trotting over. "What's going on?"

"You know perfectly well what!" the ginger she-cat hissed, deciding to cut to the chase and get this through the thick head of her lover. Although in all honesty she wasn't even sure of the 'lover' part anymore. "What's he been telling you?" She nodded toward Hawkfrost as she spoke, who was, even now, watching them with his sharp ice-blue eyes.

Brambleclaw sighed and rolled his own eyes of fiery amber. "Squirrelflight, we've been through this before. For the last time, Hawkfrost has not been planning anything. Sure, he's ambitious, but that doesn't always end badly." His voice faltered slightly on his next words. "He… hasn't been telling me about anything…"

"Well, why would he tell you?" Squirrelflight snapped the words that were the first that came to mind.

She knew immediately that it was the wrong thing to say. The dark brown ThunderClan tom's normally warm amber eyes hardened into chips of golden ice. He said nothing; just turned away. "He would tell me if he was planning anything," Brambleclaw muttered without turning around, sounding almost like he was reassuring himself.

Hesitantly, Squirrelflight padded up behind him to place her tail-tip on his shoulder; to her relief and somewhat surprise, he didn't jerk away. "I'm sorry," she murmured, and she realized she felt incredulous that she was actually apologizing that she didn't trust Hawkfrost.

Brambleclaw just shrugged.

Even as Brambleclaw and Squirrelflight were wrapped up in their conflict and wondering just how they were going to set it right, they didn't realize that two other cats had taken a particularly close interest in the prince and princess' situation.

Or rather, shall we say, the princess herself.

One was Hawkfrost, which was almost to be expected. He didn't realize that part of the reason he so relished watching his brother and Squirrelflight argue was because he had actually somewhat fallen for her – in an odd, twisted sort of sense, because how could the evil prince, the black sheep, actually fall in love with anyone?

But he did not realize he had fallen for her until right before Brambleclaw and Squirrelflight had stopped speaking almost for good.

The other that had noted the conflict most of all – because while the prince and princess' quarrel had sent ripples across the surface of all of ThunderClan, only two had exceptionally noted it – was surprising. More surprising was that this tom was practically the equivalent of a human commoner.

He was a pale gray tom by the name of Ashfur.

Some would have called it a passing affection, a case of lust, mostly due to the age difference between Ashfur and Squirrelflight. However, predictably, Ashfur did not believe so. He truly believed what he felt for her was real.

But unfortunately, as was the norm for unnaturally suspicious third parties – in this case, Hawkfrost – such feelings are bound to be discovered eventually.

And when he did, the dark tabby noted, with the kind of dull realization one feels sometimes, well look at that, I've got competition.

If Hawkfrost had had his way, he wouldn't have had to talk to Ashfur at all.

But, as the saying went, birds of a feather flock together – it was a rather idiotic saying either way you looked at it, one didn't often see birds in packs – and the way Hawkfrost saw it, they were both jealous of Brambleclaw.

He wondered why he hadn't realized it before. Before, his plan had simply consisted of taking the Clans and then choosing to go after Squirrelflight – although cats of the Clans didn't usually choose to do their simple objectives before the more difficult ones.

But now Hawkfrost realized he needed accomplices – allies, like his own father had once had, before BloodClan. Allies, followers, perhaps even someone to blame if the situation ever got too sticky.

The way he saw it, Ashfur fit the bill.

It was another Gathering on the Island; the full moon cast its silver light on the short grass and the lake around it. Cats from every Clan were talking, laughing, being together.

No one thought to look behind the great tree.

Orbs of dark sapphire, currently glowing with an angry tinge, were glaring into ice-blue.

"N-no, Hawkfrost! You know I could never – I could never –"

"You want her as much as I do, Ashfur. If you help me kill Firestar, she will be yours. She will come flying into your embrace."

"But…"

"You know how she feels toward Brambleclaw right now. She still loathes him because of me. Her pride would never let her go back to him – you're the next candidate."

"But that's the problem – I don't want to be second-best. I want to be hers, not just a substitute."

And Ashfur's voice cracked on the last part, because some part of him knew that, to Squirrelflight, that was all he'd ever be.

Hawkfrost rolled his eyes. "Please. Don't try to make me pity you. It will not work."

"What makes you think Brambleclaw will even want to work with you if I'm on your side?"
This flustered Hawkfrost. He didn't reply.

In the silence, Ashfur turned on his heel and walked away.

Okay, Hawkfrost thought. So that didn't work.

Secretly he was infuriated, that Ashfur managed to get to the one area of defense he hadn't prepared for. Secretly Hawkfrost was embarrassed, for the exact same reason.

He vowed that Ashfur would be right after Firestar.

The time has come.

Firestar, caught in the Twoleg trap, is looking from Hawkfrost to Brambleclaw, ice to fire, without the slightest bit of panic in his emerald eyes. Just a sort of calm acceptance, like no matter what you choose, Brambleclaw, you will always be my deputy.

Brambleclaw, however, is panicked and nervous, and it shows. His breath comes in quick little nervous pants, his amber eyes flicking frantically from his brother to his leader.

Hawkfrost is smirking as best a cat can, but even without the Twoleg expressions it's clear he's smug. He's been waiting for this time, has anticipated it, can practically taste it.

So, forcing Ashfur to go to ThunderClan, even after he'd seen Hawkfrost draw Firestar into his trap, was worth it after all.

Hawkfrost has it all planned out. After Firestar dies, he's going to turn on Brambleclaw, and then Ashfur. And then he'll reel Squirrelflight right in like a fish.

The perfect plan.

But then Brambleclaw does something Hawkfrost hasn't expected.

He says no.

Well, Hawkfrost thinks to himself, it's a little late for you to be turning away, isn't it?

Nevertheless, he decides Brambleclaw doesn't need to be in the picture any longer. Any good cat who knows his plan is better off dead, is what he always says.

Or, well, he would always say it if Brambleclaw weren't only the second cat to know about his plan.

So, the classic cliché battle-of-good-and-evil follows. Though it's not as extravagant as it could be – mostly because there are no opposing armies like with Firestar and BloodClan – to the two brothers, fire and ice, these moments are everything.

They can decide life or death.

They can decide who gets the she-cat and who ends up limping away with his tail between his legs.

But in so many ways, this is much more than just a petty fight between two toms who want the same she-cat, two dark princes fighting over the princess of light. This is a battle to settle everything.

Brambleclaw's pinned to the ground. Hawkfrost is practically quivering with delight, even though he knows he could never do such a kit-ish thing. His plans are so close to being fulfilled…

But as life often is, things that take ages to build up can be torn down in an instant.

Brambleclaw twists his head, takes the peg out from where the trap holds Firestar with his teeth, and raises his head up so that the sharp end – the end once held within the ground – can sink into Hawkfrost's throat.

Oh.

Oh.

Hawkfrost knows blood. Blood, crimson red, dark red, flowing out of him in gushing rivulets. He's not sure whether he knows anything else.

Brambleclaw stands over him, chest heaving. There's something almost, but not quite, unreadable in his amber eyes. Fire meets glazed ice for a moment.

His eyes don't say the expected haha, I win, you lose.

They say I'm sorry.

And Hawkfrost can swear he feels just the tiniest bit of light pierce his heart of shadows before this world escapes his grasp for good.

Life goes on after that.

By this time Squirrelflight and Brambleclaw have made up. It doesn't take long before rumors are flying around the camp that Squirrelflight's pregnant.

Not with Ashfur's, but Brambleclaw's, kits.

So, Ashfur muses to himself, some cats just don't get a happy ending.

Valiant princes defeat vile enemies. Princesses fall in love.

The commoners are just setbacks.

Brambleclaw sometimes wonders about his brother.

He wonders sometimes what an uncle Hawkfrost would have been, if he weren't evil, a prince of darkness looking only for conquest.

The sad thing is, Brambleclaw truly regrets his brother's decision. He thinks about so many what ifs he fears his brain is going to explode from the force of all of it.

A deputy and a father, he reminds himself, should not be dwelling on the past.

But even as he orders Brackenfur and Whitepaw – she's going to be getting her warrior name later, he remembers, and wonders what she'll be called – out on dawn patrol, Brambleclaw muses to himself.

Some cats just don't get a happy ending.

Not a straight one, anyway.

Standard ending complaints applied.