It Runs in the Family
"You may come see dem now me king," Rafiki bowed as he spoke, looking strange without the usual presence of the crooked, wooden staff in his hands.
"Nala! Our cub! Are they ok?" Simba gasped out, leaping to his feet. He had grown irritated by his own pacing over an hour ago and had forced himself to sit and analyze the moonlit savanna—anything to distract from thoughts about what was going on in the birthing den.
"Dey are fine," Rafiki assured him, motioning for the gold lion to enter the dark cavern. "Your mate is well and both cubs are strong and fighting already."
"Both…both cubs?" Simba sputtered, stumbling to a halt and blinking in shock at the shaman mandrill.
"Yes, sire, BOTH cubs" the ancient monkey replied calmly. "You should be very proud. It is twins your majesty," Rafiki announced with a smile.
"Twins?" the lion king gasped in horror, terrible memories of the strife between two brothers flashing through his mind. "No, it cannot be..." Simba whispered the last part to himself.
A male lion stood, silhouetted against the morning sunhis pelt glowed bright as the rising orb. His profile was majestic, displaying a strong build and flowing mane. In direct contrast was the red hued shadow behind him. Built thin and wiry his mane was dark and shadowed his eyes. Wickedness emanated from the dark lion as he advanced toward the golden one and sprang, claws outstretched to attack.
"My king?" Rafiki queried, peering back at the new father as he swayed on his feet just outside the den. "Are you all right?"
"Yes, I was just…" Simba let his voice drift off, still shrugging off his vision. The shaman appeared curious but he didn't ask any questions as the two of them entered the darkness of the den.
'I'm being unreasonable' the king thought to himself, shaking his head to clear away the fear. 'Just because there's two cubs, it doesn't mean anything…'
Resolved Simba padded forward, blinking as he entered the darkness of the small cave. Moonlight filtered in through the opening, but it took a moment for his eyes to adjust and make out the shadowy form of his mate and cubs. Breathless he padded forward, amber eyes staring in wonder at the small, squeaking bundles of fur curled beside his mate.
"Nala, they're beautiful," he murmured, taking his eyes off the newborn cubs just long enough to nuzzle his weary mate.
"I know, we did a good job," she purred tiredly, gazing down at the furry mounds. Their fur was just beginning to fluff out as they scrabbled at the lionesses stomach. Both cubs were females and carried the golden hue prominent of the royal line; though one was colored more the orange of a sunset while the second was the sandy tan of the desert landscape. Simba leaned in closer breathing in their scent.
These are my cubs… he thought, the very fact amazing him. Of course he and Nala had known for months that they were going to be parents, but now that the event had arrived…he felt so unprepared. Especially for twins, Simba caught himself thinking. While multiple births were common among lions, in the royal family they were a rarity—and that wasn't such a bad thing. It saved a lot of strife with fights over succession. But not this time, the young king thought with a shudder. This time blood may have to be spilt again.
For what seemed like hours Simba tried his best to lie still beside his sleeping mate and newborn cubs. With the comforting presence of her mate Nala was completely at ease, sleeping with a front paw curled protectively around the babies pressed against her belly. As the male watched one of the girl cubs half woke, twitching a little and batting at her sister. The second awoke at the touch, squeaking in indignation and pushing back at her sister with the beginning attempts of a growl rumbling in her throat.
Simba gasped in dread as they swatted at each other with uncoordinated limbs. For a moment his vision blurred, the image of his daughters older and stronger crowding into his mind. They slashed at each other with unsheathed claws, teeth bared with sharp points gleaming as they attacked one another. The king shook his head roughly to clear away the hallucination, grimacing and nudging the newborns apart.
"Don't do that," he whispered, breathing heavily. Sad fear filled his gaze as the king stared down at the little cubs, blinking at him curiously. Then the orange cub yawned, pink, baby tongue curling slightly as her mouth opened wide. Amber eyes closed almost before the action was complete and the little female was once more sound asleep. Simba took several breaths to still his racing heart, one eye watching as his second daughter also curled up to fall back asleep.
Still though the lion king couldn't calm down. He kept shifting from position to position, unable to keep his eyes closed for more than a few seconds. Every time he did he saw his two daughters, not even a day old and already fighting with one another. Finally Simba gave up, growling a little as he rolled to his feet and slunk out of the cave into the false dawn. He didn't think about where he was headed but his paws seemed to know the path, carrying him forward without direction as the kings' mind drifted, forming fantasies of memories he couldn't possess.
"Dad wait up!" a gold cub cried as he struggled through the tall grass.
"Yeah, wait for us!" a second lion cub echoed.
"You boys have to keep up if you're going to come with," a large male lion said firmly as he turned to face the youngsters.
"We're trying!" the gold cub promised sincerely.
"The grass is just so long!" his brother whined slightly, struggling free of the rustling vegetation.
"Arr," the adult grumbled, seeming to lose his patience. "Look boys, there are too many royal duties I have to complete today. And there are hyenas wandering around right now, I can't keep an eye on both of you."
"But you said we could come with!" the first cub protested, his companion nodding in agreement.
"You did!"
"Fine! Stop your whining," the lion growled, turning his back on the young cubs. "But I don't have time to watch both of you, figure out who's coming with me. Whoever doesn't go can hang out with your mother for the day." The muscular form sauntered away, leaving the two cubs staring at each other in shock.
"I want to go," the gold colored one finally said.
"So do I," the other said softly.
Silently the twins looked at each other, wordlessly questioning who would share their fathers' fleeting free time.
His vision clearing, Simba realized he was standing on the high promontory of Pride Rock, looking over his kingdom. "I can't handle this," the male lion muttered to himself, striding to the edge and throwing himself down to stare over the land. In front of him the early glimmers of dawn were emerging on the horizon, casting the first shadows of the day. "I don't know how to balance two cubs and a kingdom!"
The young king had barely acknowledged the possibility that he might produce two heirs for the throne; he had no idea how he was going to deal with the situation. It hadn't been long since he had returned to the jungle to right the wrongs committed by his uncle and restore the Pride Lands to their glory. The weight of his uncles' death still weighed heavily on him, as well as the pressures of adjusting to the role of a ruler with duties and responsibilities. He had been working hard to make the transition since his ascension to the throne, but the path to kinghood was filled with loose stones that threatened to trip or lame him.
Simba had lost his father before he could truly learn what it meant to be a king. His years growing up in the jungle with Timon and Pumbaa had allowed him to grow and thrive, but they hadn't taught him how to manage a kingdom. The delicate balance between force and compromise that made a ruler great was a lesson he never had a chance to experience. With the help of his mother and the other lioness he was slowly growing into his kingly duties, but it was slow going. To add on the additional problem of raising twin cubs, curbing jealousy and rivalry for the throne was merely going to increase his difficulties.
Twins, two cubs fighting for the throne…the king contemplated as he lay on the orange stone. My father was killed for the throne, and my uncle driven to madness by its allure…can I really put my daughters through that? Simbas' face contorted as he thought, numerous emotions taking their individual turns to shape his face.
"Why didn't I see this coming," he groaned in frustration, rubbing a paw down his face. The morning calls of the savannah birds broke through the kings' reverie, drawing his gaze back to the rising sun. Just as he looked up the first shaft of sunlight reached Pride Rock, striking him in the eye and blinding him.
The raucous beat of a thousand sharp hooves, threatening at any second to crush his skull, became irrelevant as the cub felt himself pulled up, off the rocky ground. The firm grip of the jaws on his neck was comforting, though he swung a bit with each stride his father took. Even with the herd still stampeding around them the prince felt his fear evaporate, like rainwater in the desert.
'I'm safe now, dad'll get us out of this mess' the golden cub breathed a sigh. He felt his father leap, weightless for a moment as they soared through the air, then suddenly solid flesh and bone again as they landed on a small ledge. Simba hugged the gritty stone as his father set him down, shaking with relief to be out of the stream of frightened herd beasts. Suddenly the protective embrace of his fathers' mane was gone, the thick red fur replaced by open, dusty air with a growl of frustration as the king was carried away.
"Dad!" the princeling cried out, scrambling up and frantically scanning the mass below him for a hint of gold. Seconds that felt like eternity passed, then a shadow blanketed the sun as Mufasa soared out of the stampede and landed with a crash on the low angled wall of the gorge. His claws dug in, and Simba flinched as the king slipped. Then the king regained his balance, clawing and muscling his way up the steep stone. The crown prince lost sight of his father as he inched up the wall, and the cub turned away to race up the narrow crevice that would take him to the top.
Scrambling over the jumbled rocks Simba was blind to his own journey; instead he was somehow on the other side of the ridge, watching his father struggle upward.
"Scar! Brother!" Mufasa cried, back legs slipping on the smooth stone as he hung, inches from the safety of the top. "Help me!" For a breath the red lion seemed to consider, then he pounced. The king roared in pain as the smaller lion dug his claws deep into the top of the golden paws, beads of blood welling up at the puncture wounds.
"Long live the king," Scar murmured maliciously, and Mufasas' eyes widened in sudden fear. With a strength that belied his thin frame the red lion retched his paws forward, jerking his brothers' tenacious grip free and sending him careening down into the rushing stampede.
"Ahh!" Mufasa cried as he fell backwards, legs clawing uselessly at the air.
"Noooo!" Simba screamed, eyes bulging in terror and claws spread wide for purchase on the gritty stone. It took him a moment to realize that he was no longer at the dreaded gorge. That he was no longer a cub but a full grown lion surveying his kingdom from on high. "I can't do it," he panted, eyes wide and wet with tears. "Twins…I can't risk it." Without another word the lion king trotted off the tip of Pride Rock, purpose on his face.
"Are you sure, me king?"
"Yes…the pain now will save a lot of trouble later," Simba said firmly, though he hung his head as he spoke.
"Ok 'den," Rafiki relented, shifting the bundle in his arms so it was more secure. "I will take care of it."
"Thank you," the lion whispered, raising his head for an instant to meet the mandrills gaze. "I'm sorry to ask this of you Rafiki."
"It is my duty to help my king," the shaman replied with a small bow, "But I do ask that you listen to what advice I have to tell you."
"Of course," Simba nodded, pointedly keeping his eyes from the burden the monkey carried.
"It doesn't seem that it's only twins that run in the family, but distrust as well," Rafiki counseled, one hand stroking the cub in his arms. The movement unconsciously drew the lions gaze to his daughter before he could jerk it away again. "Sometimes the best risk we can take is to give someone a chance."
The lion king was silent as he and his advisor stood in the early morning light. His gaze kept drifting down to the cub in Rafikis' arms, tears welling up as the sleeping bundle shifted to a more comfortable position.
"Brother! Help me!" the echoed memory of a desperate cry made up Simbas' mind.
"I can't, not now," he said, hanging his head in shame.
"Aye," Rafiki replied soothingly, nodding his head in understanding. "'Dat is fine, even kings cannot be perfect." With a little grunt he heaved the cub to his shoulder, supporting it with one arm as he began to hobble down the ramp on three legs. "I will make sure 'dis cub is taken care of," he assured the lion, glancing over his shoulder once more; but the king refused to meet his gaze, turning instead and disappearing into the cave.
"Mm, Simba?" Nala murmured sleepily as he walked in. "Is that you?"
"Yeah, it's me," he whispered, rubbing heads with his mate. "Nala…" he said, hesitating for just a moment, "there's something I have to tell you."
"What is it?" the lioness asked, turning her head to give her cubs a lick and eyes opening in shock when she found only one at her side. "Simba!"
"Shh," he hissed quickly, stepping close to comfort her. "The other cub was having some trouble breathing, I went to fetch Rafiki but it was too late."
"No…" Nala shuddered.
"Shh sweetheart," the king murmured as she pressed her face into his mane. "We still have the one cub, these things happen."
"But why to us? Why?" the queen cried, shaking with the force of her tears.
"Shh," Simba whispered again and again, lying down next to her. "It'll be ok, it'll all be ok."
As the months passed Simba felt haunted. Kiara grew, and Nala slowly forgot about their second daughter, but the guilt of his lie made it difficult for the king. Sometimes, when he saw Kiara playing alone, he thought he could see the shadow of the sister who should have been alongside her. When he schooled her in lessons about being a queen Simba found himself answering questions she never asked, questions he felt came from that shadow. On the eve of Kiaras' first solo hunt he lay awake and watched her struggle to sleep for a long time; feeling the weight of guilt that she didn't have a sister to anticipate the morning with.
Eventually such visions and guilt came less frequently and affected him less strongly; though the lion king could never entirely shake them. The arrival of Kovu, and all the problems his presence entailed, seemed to push the old dilemma completely from his mind.
Then the battle with the outsiders began.
Suddenly blocked from battle by his daughter and her chosen mate he was shocked into silence to hear his own words pouring from Kiara's mouth.
"A wise king once told me, we are one. I didn't understand him then, but now I do," the princess said as she smiled proudly at her father, completely trusting that he would listen to her.
"But they!" Simba sputtered, caught entirely off guard.
"Them? Us? Look at them, they are us! What differences do you see?" his daughter asked, gesturing for him to look around. The kings' gaze roamed around the scattered lionesses, all of them muddy and most bloody from the battle so it was difficult to tell which side they were on. Near the edge was one of the youngest, Vitani, had been tense, ready to pounce at any second. But as the king watched the young lioness raised her head, face openly curious if Kovu and Kiara might truly have a way out of this battle. Amber eyes met blue and for a moment Simba felt as though he were looking into Nalas' eyes.
She could be my daughter, he suddenly realized, the idea shocking him. Any of them could be and it's my fault we're fighting. If I had never exiled these lionesses… he thought with a heavy heart. Suddenly the storm torn sky broke open, a thin peal of sunshine reaching down to caress his face. He felt his fathers strong presence and Rafiki's words from all those years ago came back to him.
"Sometimes the best risk we can take is to give someone a chance."
The king felt some of the weight lift from his shoulders as the sun filtered down, and he looked once more at his daughters' hopeful face. Wordlessly he stepped forward to embrace Kiara.
"Vitani, now!" Zira shouted when she saw him distracted, her claws grating the rocky soil.
"No mother," Vitani spat in disgust, walking over to join Kovu. "Kiara's right, enough."
As he saw the three young lions standing firm against Zira Simba felt a rush of pride. They may not all have been his own cubs, but their strength and determination was admirable. Even with all the mistakes of their elders, given the chance this next generation would move forward to a better life for all.
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