Silence. The lack of sound around the normally vibrant kingdom hub was both chilling and foreboding. The lionesses and cubs of the Pridelands congregated closely beside the promontory of Pride Rock, illuminated by a sliver of moonlight that crept around the majestic formation. In the low light, pained, mournful expressions could be seen on every face in the huddle. Some were odd, screwed grimaces; others wore a look of complete disbelief and shock; while a few, mostly the young ones, had tears budding at the corners of their eyes, and bent the heads to the ground in grief. The silence was not complete, though it would almost be better if it were, for the only sounds were brief and muffled sobs, echoing against the wind-lathed stone nearby.
Something truly terrible had happened that day.
On a slightly raised platform which lead into the caves on Pride Rock, a brown-furred lion sat on his haunches, his straggly, obsidian mane hanging limp beneath his jaw. His black, pointed nose was craned skywards, as if full of pride, yet his face adopted the same dampened look as those a little way below. His piercing, green eyes were hidden for the moment in reflection, allowing the celestial beams to highlight the jagged old wound splayed across his left eye that had become his namesake.
"Mufasa's death…was a terrible tragedy," Scar said with a hushed, reverential tone, "but to lose Simba, who had barely begun to live…"
The sentence was left hanging as the brown lion sniffled and buried his muzzle in his forepaw. A powerfully-built, dark tan lioness, who up until now had been looking stoically ahead in evident but dignified heartache, now dipped her head to the ground in despair, as a blue hornbill comfortingly placed his wing on her paw. Though Sarabi already knew that her beloved husband and son were gone, Scar's words had re-opened the deep, excruciating wounds in her soul; they confirmed that her worst nightmares had come true.
The same had happened to a tan cub a short distance from her, as she was reminded that her best friend was never coming back from that gorge. With a gasping cry, Nala huddled closer to her mother's forelegs, twin tears slithering down her face. One the rock, Scar had recovered from his momentary lapse and pressed on as the confirmation had sunk into the minds of the pride.
"For me, it is a deep personal loss. So it is with a heavy heart that I assume the throne. Yet out of the ashes of the tragedy, we shall rise!" His voice had lost its air of sympathy by this point, reverting to a forceful and commanding tone that grew steadily in volume. This caught the pride's attention, but after a moment they were instead focused on the shadows behind Scar.
In the ethereal green light, the shapes of hyenas pressed forth from the dark recesses of Pride Rock, a similar colour emanating from the scavengers' eyes.
"To greet…the dawning of a new era!" The pride let out a collective gasp, shaken out of their mournful stupor. Several looked around, and saw more of their enemy closing in.
"In which lion and hyena come together, in a great and glorious future!" Their new King's voice had dropped sinisterly and almost to a whisper, magnified by the smooth surroundings of their home. As the gleeful yips of the incoming hyenas grew ever louder, the lionesses realised for the first time just how much faith they placed on the whims of their king.
Yet the Pridelands were not the only kingdom to be in upheaval that night. A little beyond the horizon atop Pride Rock, lay the kingdom of the Upper Eastlands, a lush and bountiful realm of soft, rolling hills and verdant, rich grasslands. That day, however, the serenity and peace of this kingdom had been shattered.
The pride that called the lands home was congregated in a spacious cave on a large hill near the centre of the kingdom. Many were tending to deep, bloody scratches and savage bites, aided by a rather terse cheetah who dispensed healing herbs to the injured. Mothers were shielding their cubs and trying to calm them after the events of that day, while their mates attempted to put on brave faces for the sake of their families. One was unable to do any of this; she lay broken, and unmoving, in one of the other smaller caves that permeated the hillside they called Haven. Inside yet another rather private shelter, another of their number was fated to join the prone lioness, though not for a little while yet.
A large, robustly-built lion lay on his side in this cave, his ragged breathing echoing in the confined space. Large chunks of his pelt had been brutally ripped away, exposing sickening, pink innards and smearing his normally brown coat with liberal amounts of viscous blood, which continued to seep through the multitude of injuries. One of his hind legs stuck out at an odd angle after a particularly heavy landing during that day's exertions and several of his ribs were snapped, poking inwards and spearing his organs with every rise of his chest.
The almost unbearable pain was clear to see on Umeme's face, its normally regal features stretched and contorted with each breath. A yellowish lioness, his treasured wife Masaada, sat by his middle, determinedly trying to clean his many wounds with her gentle tongue. But this battle was steadily, and surely, being lost. And Umeme knew it.
"Dear…" he croaked, just managing to suppress the loud roar that he was begging to let out, craning his neck to look at her for what could be the last time. The deft, comforting swabs at his inner layers of skin stopped as she did the same. Through the gloom of the moonlit cave, and a rather think layer of moisture, his piercing amber eyes met her warm, cerulean gaze, and she realised the inevitable.
Her visage too stretched into a grimace to rival his own, and she buried it in the expanse of his greying dark brown mane, though softly to avoid causing him even more pain. Both of them were well into their dotage, with Umeme recently celebrating twelve years of life, so Masaada was aware that this day would eventually come. But that didn't mean that she expected it to be now, in this horrendously painful manner, or that she wanted it to happen.
Tears leaked from her eyes with great, shuddering sobs at what they both knew was going to happen, while he raised his least injured forepaw, and rubbed it tentatively along the nodules of her spine, trying to calm her while the building moisture in his own eyes finally ran its course silently down the sides of his own muzzle.
"Come on, honey," he implored, attempting to keep his voice as strong as possible. "We both knew this was coming."
There was a great, wet sniff as Masaada tried to gather herself before responding, "Yes, but does it have to be now?" she asked, desperation flooding her voice. "Surely Amana could do something?"
Her voice had cracked by the end of her query, and Umeme could feel his heart do the same at the sound of her anguish. He didn't want to leave her, but he had to. With a sharp intake of breath as a bone fragment struck something it shouldn't, he carried on.
"Maybe she could, but even if she did it would be a long and arduous recovery," he stated, wavering. "There wouldn't be much of a life left for me at the end of it."
At this, Masaada picked herself up, and he felt a great deal of warmth leave his body. He really did not have much time left. She stared deeply into those amber orbs once again, trying to miss the innumerable scratches that also adorned the face she so adored.
"But at least it would be a life," she mumbled, unable to raise her voice. "At least we would still be together."
Umeme had to steady himself before his reply. He was almost ready for death: it would be a welcome and deserved respite from the immense pain wreaking havoc through his body. But he was not ready to leave his mate behind, or to watch her suffering from his place in the heavens with no way to help; those were the only two things keeping him there.
"Honey…don't you remember the story of what happens to those who pass on?" he asked, a small, reassuring smile stretching his lips despite his own personal agony. "I'll never be truly gone. We'll always be together, even if we can't feel each other."
His words had a small but definite effect, and her expression softened. She was still burdened by enormous sorrow, but at least she was somewhat ready for his passing. She gave a slight nod, and bent down to lick the end of his nose, careful to avoid inflaming the cuts there.
"Do you want me to go get Amana? She might have something to stop the pain." She wanted him to suffer as little as possible before the inescapable happened, but his great head shook.
"I think I can manage," he breathed out, before a hacking cough interrupted his reverie. "Could you fetch Khalfani though? I need to speak to him before…"
"'Course," she said, tears welling up as he delicately left the sentence hanging. The lioness began to turn away and leave, but at the last second she faltered, and once again gently rested her head on his side, nuzzling him tenderly.
"I love you, Umeme," she gasped, slowing her rubs a tiny amount. "From the first time we met, and you pulled that stupid jump off Haven, I knew I loved you… and I always will…even if we can't truly be with each other…" Her sentence trailed off as her tears grew more copious, soaking further into his mane with each pained rub.
Once again, Umeme had to fight to stop himself from breaking, as the treasured memories played in his mind's eye. Where did all that time go? he thought mournfully, tears running freely down his muzzle to cling resolutely onto the age-lengthened fuzz on his chin.
"And I you, Massie," he wheezed. Time was growing short, and he could feel the end approaching, but he found the strength to wrap his forelegs around her and pull her close, despite the horrendous pain. "And I you…"
He relented, and felt her comforting weight slowly rise off his neck, and breathing became easier again, though only slightly; the inevitable was still on the horizon. However, he had to speak to his son before he departed, and Umeme watched through half-lidded eyes as the love of his life gave his muzzle a heartfelt lick, before leaving to find their son. In the empty silence, his mind rested on those he would be with again. Dad…Mum…Ahadi…Afla…it won't be long now.
In the entrance to the Sleeping Cave, a well-built but rather young lion sat on his haunches. His head hung limply, as he stared intently at the ground as though trying to bore into it; trying to find a way to escape the heartache he felt as his father lay struggling for breath in one of the other caves. Tears fell silently from the end of his muzzle as the terrible thoughts crossed his mind. He had already lost his sister recently; surely the Great Kings would not allow their number to be increased tonight.
He picked his head up momentarily, looking down the hillside for the opening to the cave where her cold, lifeless form lay in peace. She had barely left cub hood, he thought, face unconsciously contracting in grief. She didn't deserve this.
His thoughts returned to his father; surely he would get better. He was not going to die. Not now. Not when he needed him the most. Not when he was too young to take the responsibilities the king's death would entail.
The young lion sighed. Now more than ever before, he wanted his love by his side, but she wasn't. An earlier sweep of the cave had told him that Sabra was trying to calm her younger brother down. He didn't feel angry with her for that, but still, he couldn't help but desire her to be with him. So that he could feel her kind, reassuring affections; so that he could be immersed in her earthy scent again; so that he didn't feel so crushingly alone.
As if on cue, he heard a soft padding from behind, getting steadily louder as someone approached, and he flicked his head around to face them. As soon as his eyes landed on the familiar, brown-furred lioness he couldn't help but feel uplifted. But then the thick, suffocating cloud surrounding his heart reasserted its presence, and he turned away to face the landscape, fresh tears blazing their path down his face.
Silently, Sabra sidled up to him, nuzzling his side kindly as she joined him in sitting. At her affections, Khalfani's neck went limp, as something inside him crumbled, and he felt himself rest against her for support, in every sense of the word.
"Don't worry, darling," Sabra murmured, bending down to try and peer into his eyes. Her search was brief, as Khalfani had picked himself up again at her concerned tone. "I'm sure he'll be fine," she finished with a reassuring but respectfully small smile.
"Khalfani…"
Both of them looked up at the hushed whisper, and saw their queen standing before them. Aside from his burgundy mane, Khalfani was an almost perfect doppelganger of his mother, despite inheriting his father's oversized frame. The lion felt boosted, thinking that her appearance might bring news of his father's recovery. However, when the pairs of identical eyes met, he felt his heart plummet again and the suffocating fog thicken. The dark lines indicating copious tears; the barely-contained trembling of her jaw; the unmistakable look of despair in those normally warm blue orbs. This couldn't be good news.
His mother inhaled with an oddly wet sound. "Your dad wants to have a word with you," she said, in a cracked, quiet voice; she was clearly close to breaking. Unable to do anything else but dreading what lay ahead, he obeyed and slowly ambled off to join his mother. Sabra stayed behind: she wanted to be there for him, but knew that it was not her place to interrupt the king's final moments with his family.
Though the cave was not far from the one they slept in, the walk there seemed to be the longest of Khalfani's life. He could feel every muscle in his body tremble as he padded toward the cave, engrossed in thought, searching desperately for something that would make this not be reality, sinking slowly into despair as the sorrow began to consume him.
"I'm so sorry, Khalfani," his mother whispered, "I should have got him back quicker."
The young lion was jerked back to earth by this, and by the vision in his mind of the aged lioness carrying her battered husband to the cave where he now lay, his broken leg jarring horribly against her flank. Fluids streamed down her face, as she strove determinedly, but gently given his condition, back to Haven; back to where Amana could hopefully treat him. Khalfani had to fight back a shudder at the sight of his father's blood dripping out of the many slashes in his countenance.
"Don't be, Mum," he replied. He did his best to replicate Sabra's smile from earlier, but with the pain in his chest and shuddering jaw he was unsuccessful. He settled instead with giving her a comforting nuzzle. It was a slightly odd feeling; usually, she was the one trying to cheer him up when he was down. "You did everything you could."
Presently, they had reached the cave, and Khalfani could hear his father's strained breathing reverberate from deep within. Panicking, he ran almost blindly into the cave, desperate to see his father, desperate for some hope. Maybe he was going to make it, but it would be a long time before he could walk again? That had to be it. His father couldn't be dying.
But when his eyes adjusted, his father was still in the same bad way as Khalfani last saw him. Their shaman's herbs and assistance had stemmed the flow from the smaller cuts and nips, but the more gaping holes were still sickeningly damp, and the fur around them was still stained scarlet. There was still life in Umeme, but it was dwindling rapidly; his chest was rising very slowly and weakly, and his eyes were almost fully closed.
Resisting the overbearing urge to simultaneously vomit and break down in sobs, he bounded over to his father, hoping that the noise might rouse him; it didn't. Those familiar amber eyes remained almost hidden, though he did hear his father make an odd noise, almost as if he was talking in his sleep.
"Dad!" Khalfani exclaimed, the terror he felt reaching breaking point, but it quelled slightly when his father's eyelids retreated. But only slightly.
"Son…" he replied weakly, barely more than a whisper, the corners of his mouth receding to his neck at the sight of his child. Khalfani felt his eyes overflow once again, as he now realised the extent of his father's injuries, though he couldn't bear to look at them.
"Dad, please!" he begged, "tell me you're gonna make it!" His eyes could see the tremendous pain that each breath caused, all the innards shifting beneath the shattered ribcage, but he refused to believe that his father…would not be there any more. He couldn't even complete the thought now that he knew.
"Shh…calm down, Khalfani," Umeme wheezed. With great difficulty, the king raised his left forepaw, and the yellow lion lowered himself to fit under it and collapsed softly into Umeme's ever-reassuring embrace, quickly creating a damp patch around his grief-etched face. "I know it will be hard…but I'm afraid it is my time."
Umeme was trying to keep his voice stable and strong for his son, if only to make the blow less catastrophic, but it was a futility by now.
"But I'm not ready to lose you, Dad. I'm not ready to be King." Khalfani heard his father sharply gasp at the last part; he knew it was just as difficult and traumatic for his father to say goodbye as it was for him. However, he was comforted when the older lion's paw stroked gently at his back.
"I know you are, my son. I-" But he was stopped with his face contorted horribly, as another bone fragment poked into something tender within his chest. The pain was immense, and Umeme had to forcibly stop his claws from unsheathing instinctively, but he managed to gather himself. "I'm sorry that you must carry this burden at such a young age…but I have full confidence in you, Khalfani. You are the greatest achievement of my life, and you will become an equally great King…I only wish that I could be with you as you do." His face twisted again as he said this, but this time in overwhelming heartache than physical pain, though it was still agonising.
Though this speech had calmed Khalfani and was starting to give him a shred of his usual confidence back, it was almost completely mitigated by his father's voice growing fainter and fainter throughout. The fear was starting to take over by now.
"You were always there for me, Dad. I couldn't have wished for anyone better as a father." He had to tell him just how much he meant to him, before…
Unseen by Khalfani but noticed by Masaada, who was watching the tender, but heartbreaking moment from a little way behind her son, one last wide smile sprouted across Umeme's tattered face. He gave his wife a small, reassuring nod, and she tearfully returned it. She could barely resist the compulsion to run over and hold both of them close herself, but she knew that this moment was intended for their son. Umeme's noble head returned to the ground with a soft thud.
"Thank you, son. Don't worry…I'll always be watching over you. I love you, my boy…"
And with that, everything went silent. Khalfani felt his father's gentle embrace become nothing more than a weight around his neck, choking him like the darkness surrounding his heart. He felt his father's chest cease its doomed heaving, and something intangible but agonisingly familiar leave the comforting body beneath him. He sank further into the still-warm pelt, tears flowing silently as his senses numbed, and finally collapsed in grief and shock.
A/N: I'm worried that this is killing the moment as it were, but it had to go somewhere after all. : )
Well, here it is, my 'first' fanfic. Despite being registered for a few months, (and already writing a few thousands words for s different story), I'm a fairly new author to this site, so if you do review, please be honest. If you do think this needs improving, then don't hesitate to tell me: I'll only get better that way, and I would love to have feedback on my work.
I'm currently in the midst of studying A-Levels, so the updating for this story may end up being irregular, but I will try and keep on top of it.
Also, I'd like to say a massive thank you, once again, to Dylan (Aquaman52/Burning Chicken Fingers) for betaing this for me and ironing out some of the more juddering sentences.
(MANDATORY DISCLAIMER: The Lion King and its associated sequels and characters are property of Disney. As if I could create anything that good.
However, any characters that you don't recognise are mine
However, I'm aware that there is an almost finite number of names that are used for OCs in the archive, and I apologise if there is any overlap with these characters.)
Other than that, thank you for reading and I hope you stick around for the rest : )