Mirror Mirror
"That's not my father," Simba sighed, staring into the pool before him. "It's just my reflection."
"No," said Rafiki. "Look harder."
Simba suppressed another sigh – he didn't know why he was even bothering. Best thing he could do right now was just walk away – find Timon and Pumba, and maybe find Nala, provided she didn't get all self-righteous on him about kings and line of succession. Come to think of it, despite living on a diet of insects for over a decade, he might decide to taste some meat again and gut the monkey where he stood. But nevertheless, he did look deeper. Down into the pool, at the reflection of a prince who had killed his father and had fled rather than face justice.
This is insane.
His father had told him stories, about kings being up there in the night sky. It had been nonsense then, and the idea he could see his father in the water now was just as ridiculous now. But nevertheless, he watched. He stared. He waited. Part of him even dared to hope. But as the water shifted, as it-
What?
As the vision changed, so he no longer saw himself, the heir to Pride Rock's heart picked up in pace. The lion looking back at him was shifting. Changing. Morphing into something that Simba knew not to be himself.
"You see?' the baboon whispered, as the image became clear. "He lives in you."
The image stopped shifting, and Simba's eyes widened in shock. What he saw was not himself. And yet, it wasn't Mufusa. It was…in-between.
Of the two lions, it looked more like Simba. Same mane, same eyes. But differences – a scar over the right eye. For a moment, he was reminded of his uncle, but it was not him – the mane, the face, the fact that the scar was on the wrong side. He moved his head one way. The image moved another.
"What are you?" Simba whispered.
The other lion's mouth moved, but it wasn't a perfect reflection. He was less than a second behind Simba, but the difference was still noticeable. Simba's eyes widened in surprise, and less than a second later, so did the other lion's.
"Look away," Rafiki whispered.
Simba didn't hear him. He brought his face closer to the water, as did the lion on the other side.
"Look away Simba. It is not meant to happen like this."
"Like what?" Simba whispered.
"You are not meant to see the others."
No words from Simba this time. His face drew ever closer to the top of the water.
"Simba, look away."
Closer, ever so closer…
"Simba, do not touch the-"
The tip of the lion prince's mane touched the surface of the pool.
The water took him.
"Where am I?"
Not the most original of questions, but as he awoke on the savanna, he supposed it was a fair one. One moment it had been night, but now, the sky was a deep orange, like sunrise or sunset. He had been with Rafiki, but now the monkey was nowhere to be seen. He had been looking at his reflection in a pool, but now, there was…
Well, actually there was a pool, under the tree he was beside. He glanced around, seeing nothing but grass and trees.
"Anyone here?" he murmured.
There was no answer.
"Course not. I get to be insane on my own." He looked down at the pool.
What the heck?
There was no reflection. The water was there. A breeze ruffled Simba's mane, and the water responded in turn, but he could not see himself. Not him, not the lion he had seen, not even his father.
What's happening? Simba wondered, his heart beating as fast as a fleeing antelope. What the heck is happening?!
"Why are you here?!"
"Gah!" He sprung round, claws out, teeth barred. The former retracted as soon as he saw who it was however, and his teeth lost their shine as his mouth began to move in the manner of speech that lions used.
"Rafiki?" he asked.
"Rafiki," the baboon murmured. "We may use that name."
"I…what?"
"Few have given me a name, as few have come to this place." The baboon rose an eyebrow. "You, Simba, are the first to have come through the pool."
"Rafiki, what…" Simba trailed off. It looked like Rafiki, but it wasn't. This monkey, this creature, stood up far straighter. He carried a staff, but did not lean on it. His face was less weathered with age, and his eyes carried not the tint of madness that Rafiki's had, but rather age and wisdom. Eyes that he had seen in his father, such as that point when they lay upon the savanna, looking up at the night sky.
"Where am I?" Simba whispered.
"A question you have already asked, no?" Rafiki asked. He smiled, and even that was in the territory of "similar but different," Simba noticed. "But an apt question. So I ask you the same – where are you?"
"I…" Simba looked around. Grass. Trees. Sky. "I'm…on the savanna?"
"Are you, Simba, son of Mufasa, the one who breached the water? Are you really?"
"I…" Simba looked around desperately. "Grass. Trees. Sky."
"Look at the trees Simba."
The lion stared at him.
"Look at the trees."
Simba did. Trees. Lines and lines of trees. Each in order, each evenly spaced, each in rows stretching from horizon to horizon. Trees that had not grown naturally, but rather, as if they were planted.
"What…what are they?"
"They are the beacons to the worlds, to the pools, and those who stare at them," Rafiki whispered. He gestured to the tree that Simba was besides, and the water below it. "Your pool is empty, for you are not there. But the others…"
He waved his hand. The wind blew, the grass shifted, and the trees stood as silent sentinels.
"Behold the moment."
And then Simba saw himself.
Thousands and thousands of Simbas, all across the savanna. Each by a pool, each under a tree. All looking down.
"What…" Simba's head was spinning.
"A world between worlds," Rafiki said. "A world where we may perceive the choice that you make." He beckoned to Simba. "Come."
Mutely, Simba followed, even as the others were not.
"That's not my father. That's just my reflection."
"Are you crazy?"
"Why are you wasting my time?"
Each lion talking to the pool.
"The words change, but the story remains the same," Rafiki said. The wind picked up again. "Now they make the choice."
"Choice?' Simba asked. "What choice?"
"Father!"
Father?
He spun round, looking at one of the lions. It…he…was looking up. Walking up to him, Simba could see that the resemblance was uncanny, but like the lion who existed before him was not 100% his reflection. A slightly different face. A slightly different voice. And through the pool before him, whispers.
"You are my son, and the one true king."
"Father?" Simba whispered. He leant over towards the pool.
"Do not touch the water," Rafiki said.
Simba looked back at him. "But I can hear him."
"You hear Mufusa of another world, one who fathered a son who shares his name with you, and nothing else."
"You must take your place in the Circle of Life," the voice said.
"But he is not yours, and you are not his. And his son…" Rafiki said, gesturing to the lion by the pool, "must make his own choice."
"Father, don't go!" the lion yelled.
Simba, frowning, waved his paw in front of the lion. There was no reaction.
"Understand lion prince, he is not here." Rafiki gestured to the lions around them. Thousands, each at a tree, each either staring into the pool, or looking up at the sky. "None of them are."
"But I'm…here," Simba said. "Aren't I?"
Rafiki nodded.
"Why?"
"Because you saw beyond the water. You saw through the sheen that separates the worlds."
"Why?"
"I cannot say, any more than I can the other. But…" He smiled. "Watch, prince. This is where the choice is made. This is where, after seeing his father, this Simba will decide whether or not to follow his father's wishes and take his place in the Circle of Life."
Simba watched the lion. He was pacing around, deep in thought. Deep in worry.
"He's afraid," Simba said.
"He is, and is wise for it. But if his wisdom prevails…"
"No," the other Simba said.
"No?" Simba as he knew himself asked.
"No." And the other Simba disappeared.
"What?" Simba asked. "What happened?"
"The choice is made," Rafiki whispered. "Behold the pool if you would see its consequences."
Simba silently looked over. To the water, seeing not himself or anything in this place, but rather what lay on the other side. In it, he could see Rafiki, not as he knew the creature beside him now, but one more akin to the one he had known. This Rafiki was yelling something at the Simba in the pool. Simba could not hear this Rafiki, but he could hear his counterpart.
"I'm not going back! Not now, not ever!"
Simba's eyes widened as the other lion disappeared out of sight. In the pool, there was only Rafiki, who slumped down in the grass, dejected. Simba looked up at the one beside him.
"He fled," he murmured.
"He did indeed."
"My…his, father, bid him return, and still he ran?"
Rafiki nodded.
"Why?"
"Who can say what lies in the heart?" Rafiki prodded Simba's chest. "What lies in your heart?"
"If I saw my father, if he bid me return…"
"You would do it?"
Simba nodded.
"Then you are among those who make the choice who might be considered just." Rafiki gestured to the trees. To the other lions. One after another, they winked out.
"What's happening?" Simba asked.
"They are making their choices," Rafiki said. "The story remains the same up to this point. You will always leave home. You will always meet those who take you off your path. You will always come to the pool. But in that moment, is where fate ends, and choice begins." He gestured to one of the Simbas. "Some choose to return." He gestured to another. "Some choose to flee." He gestured to a third. "And some go mad."
"Go mad?"
"Communicating with the dead is not a choice made lightly. And for some of you, it is too much. And those around you pay the price."
"That's insane."
"As someone who has beheld their madness, I agree."
Simba began pacing around. Insane. It was all insane. He was quite likely insane. He was-
"Am I insane?" Simba whispered.
"No," Rafiki said. "As I said, you are the first who has travelled through the pool. You are the first who has evaded the choice altogether."
"But I didn't want to evade the choice!"
"Be that as it may, you still did."
"And the other lion?" Simba asked. "Where's he?"
"I…" Rafiki sighed, and Simba could tell that he was genuinely worried. "I cannot say."
"Can't? Or won't?"
"I cannot comment on those who would seek to change the story, or remake it. I cannot say what happens when the story is perverted. All I can say is that there are consequences."
"And this…is a consequence."
"Perhaps," said Rafiki. "But the question is…what now, Simba? What will you do now, in the knowledge of the choice? What will you do, in the knowledge that even if you return, you might fail? That even if you return, you may have a son who perishes, or a daughter who betrays you? Will she bring peace, or will misery come? Will the Guard stand or fall? Will the-"
"Stop!"
Rafiki did so. Simba walked up to him. "Take me back?" he whispered.
"Take you back? To your world?"
"To my father. To the canyon. Let me change it."
"I cannot."
"Can't? Or won't?"
"Both. As I have said, the choices begin at the pool. Everything up to that has always happened, and will always happen."
"That's a lie."
"I assure you oh prince, it is a truth."
"No. I can't believe that. I won't-"
"You can, and you will." Rafiki gestured with his fingers. "And if needs must, I will show you."
Simba, who had been quite ready to pounce on the baboon at this point, stumbled. Not from hesitation, but from what happened next.
The savanna was shaking. No, not just the savanna Simba reflected, the entire world, such as it was. The earth was rent asunder and elevated. The grass turned to dirt. The pools disappeared. It may have taken minutes, it may have taken months. But eventually, it stopped. A canyon. Simba was on one side of it, alongside Rafiki, and between them, a single tree. On the other side of it were two lions. Both of whom Simba recognised.
"Scar," Simba whispered, seeing the lion on the top of the other side. He looked at the lion climbing up to him. "Father!" He went to spring forward, but Rafiki grabbed his tail.
"They are not there," the guardian whispered.
"But this is-"
"This is but a vision of a world," he said. "Where it happens."
"Brother," Mufusa called out. "Help me!"
Simba leant forward, staring at the events. He watched as his uncle pull up his father.
But if Scar was able to reach him, then why didn't he-
"Long live the king," Scar whispered.
Even in the whisper, even as the sounds of wildebeest sounded below, Simba could hear his uncle's words.
Just as he could hear his father scream as Scar cast him into the canyon below.
No. It can't be. Scar said…
"So it happens," Rafiki said. "Again, and again, and again."
The images returned. The same cliff, but different. The same Mufasa, but different. The same Scar, but different.
"Brother, help me!"
"Long live the king."
"And again,' Rafiki said.
"Brother, help me!"
"Long live the king."
"Stop it," Simba whispered.
"And again."
"Long live the king."
"And again."
"Long live the king."
"And again."
"Long live the king."
"And-"
"Enough!" Simba roared. He faced Rafiki. "Stop…stop showing me this!"
"Why? You did not see it the first time."
"I've…" He was struggling for breath. His head was low, his throat was wavering, his tears mixed with the dust. "I…I've seen enough."
Rafiki, or whatever the being was, knelt down. He met the eyes of Simba, and smiled.
"I know you have," he whispered. "And that's why I know the choice has been made."
"What do you-"
"…mean?"
"Simba!"
Simba sprung up. It was night. The stars were shining. The breeze was whispering. The pool was still, and Rafiki, his Rafiki, was jumping up and down like a, well, monkey.
"Oh this is strange, so very strange," Rafiki said. He tapped Simba's forehead with his stick.
"Ow," Simba murmured.
"So many things to see, but then the water…it swallowed you up, but plopped you back down on the grass, and you were not awake, and-"
"I saw it Rafiki," Simba whispered. He got onto all four of his feet and smiled. "I saw them. All of them."
The baboon fell silent.
"I know the choices they make. The choice I'd have to make. And…" He looked to the horizon. To the west, where the sun retired from the world. To places far beyond that of the Pridelands.
"Simba…your father…"
Simba looked at him.
"Your father came," he said. "But you could not see, you could not hear, you…"
"I saw my father," Simba whispered. "And I saw Scar kill him."
Rafiki's eyes became as wide as the moon.
"You didn't know, did you?" Simba asked.
"No, but…" Rafiki clutched his staff and began pacing around. "I suspected, but I could never confirm that the king's brother was the one who stole his life, as well as his crown." He looked at him. "How did he do it?"
"By casting him down into the canyon." Simba looked away, to the east, where the sun had yet to rise. "As he always does. As he always will do."
"Simba…"
"And it all comes to this moment," Simba whispered. "The same pool. The same tree. The same sky. But me. You. My father. Always here."
"Simba, you must not speak of this," Rafiki whispered. "Fate, destiny, choice…these are things that we are better off not knowing."
"But I know the choice before me," Simba said. "To flee. Or to return."
"Simba, you-"
"And I've made my choice," Simba whispered. He smiled at Rafiki. "The long way round perhaps, but I've made it."
Rafiki nodded. "And what is your choice, son of Mufusa?"
For a moment, Simba looked at the pool. Thinking of the others. Those who returned. Those who fled. Those who went mad. Those, who one way another, always came to this moment. Those who made the choice…as he would. As he did.
He told Rafiki what his choice was.
A/N
Y'know, I'll just specify that yes, this is what happens when you combine disgruntlement with Disney's fixation on live-action remakes with multiverse theory. And if you didn't pick that up...well, actually I don't blame you.