AN: I have not actually read The Last Hope, and this is fully based on my imagination.

Firestar is dead.

The greatest leader that ThunderClan has ever known has gone to StarClan.

Sandstorm stands over the body of her mate. He looks a lot smaller in death. His rusty coat is drenched in blood and water from the rain pouring down. There are white streaks in his fur, showing his age. His eyes were still bright verdant green though, they never faded until he drew his last breath. He's not the warrior he once was.

But he still fought Tigerstar and won.

The battle that never happened in life, their destiny thwarted by a small black rogue set on dominating the forest. Firestar's half-brother with dog's teeth lining his claws and a thirst for blood that would never be quenched, not even when his throat was torn out.

Sandstorm remembers when Firestar took down Scourge. Her mate never needed any cat's assistance. He was always the first one to save other cats, even if they were from another Clan. Back in the old forest, he saved all the clans, several times over. Every time Tigerstar made another scheme to tear the Clans to shreds, Firestar was there.

Sandstorm feels old, so very tired. She doesn't make any attempt to keep the rain out of her eyes. Her insides are hollow. The sadness hasn't quite hit her yet. She knows it will come soon. Her paws are quaking beneath her, and she wants nothing more than for Firestar to comfort her.

He's dead, you fool! She chides herself. She knows she should bury her nose in his bloody, matted fur, as is customary for a grieving mate. But she feels disconnected from the body in front of her. That thing lying there? It couldn't possibly be her mate, and the beloved clan leader.

Sandstorm's paws are shaking so badly that she can hardly even stand. Her stiff legs can barely support her weight. She is as weak as a leaf, blowing around in the haze left by Firestar's death. She doesn't think she can stand it.

She feels fur pressed against her side. Graystripe. The gray tom supports her as she trembles, weak from blood loss and exhaustion, staggered by the emotions hitting her.

"I'll see you in StarClan."

The others hang back, letting her have this moment, unsure of what to do, their heads bowed, water running off their bodies. Graystripe understands, she needs him next to her now. Even her daughters stay back a bit. All their drama with the kits and the lies and the betrayal is water under the bridge now but it's too much to handle right now, Firestar is the most important, but Firestar is dead. Sandstorm chokes back a sob.

Rainwater mixes with the blood on Firestar's coat and is spreading across the ground. She has to turn away. She can't look at him one second longer, or else she will really fall to pieces.

"Don't think of him like this," whispers Graystripe into her ear. His meow is rough with pain. He knew Firestar almost as well as she did.

"How can I not?" she mews in a weak voice so small that she's not even sure it's audible. Still, she thinks of her mate in his prime. Strangely enough, his brightest hours have come in the clan's darkest. Whenever the Clans were in imminent danger of shattering to pieces, when the shadows threatened to cover the sun, those are the times when Firestar shone brightest. Fire was the only thing that could have saved the Clan.

Sandstorm closes her eyes, and into her mind comes a vision of the battle with BloodClan. Firestar leading the Clans into battle. Firestar fighting with all the strength of StarClan and all the ancient Clans besides, demolishing Scourge. She may be an old cat but she remembers it like it was yesterday. Every cat in the forest was in awe that day and she knew it. Just the sheer knowledge that he was hers, the glorious tom that owned the stars was hers and she was his, made her fight twice as hard that fateful day.

She is so, so proud. And so, so alone.

She finally steps forward and presses her nose into his cooling fur. Already the scent that she knows like her very own has started to fade.

"Goodbye, Firestar," she says, looking up at the stars, because she knows that he is watching her now, and will be until the day that she goes to join him. And in a quieter voice, "goodbye, my love."

Then she turns to her Clan, and looks at the many cats that cherished Firestar. She beckons them forward with her tail, and they come forward to pay their respects and share tongues with Firestar for the last time. Leader, father, mentor, protector, defender. Lover. There are a lot of words to describe Firestar. But none of them can quite do him justice.

As if on cue, the rain stops, and the sun comes out. The bright golden light turns Firestar's coat into a column of flame for the last time, and Sandstorm smiles, just a little, as she thinks of all that the cat who was once an little kittypet with the guts to venture into the forest has done in his nine lives.