(A/N: After months of developing useless Ahadi headcanons, I've finally decided to write them into a story. This is my version of Ahadi and Uru's backstory, as well as the childhood of Mufasa and Scar.
As a heads up, I do not consider Simba's Pride canon, so there may be some contradictory lore here. You know how fanfiction goes.
Enjoy, and please let me know what you think of it!
The land knew something Ahadi didn't.
The dark-maned lion was resting upon a smooth rock surface. The structure inclined upwards and over the brow of a tall hill, giving him a helpful view of the plains where the gazelles grazed. It was where he came to keep an eye on things, dealing with the smaller, more menial issues in the Lands, while his wife, Uru, the true ruler of Pride Rock, dealt with the weighty business back home.
Anxiety nested in the pit of the King's stomach. Occasionally, his large paws would flex, itching with nerves. He flicked an ear, trying to make out the noise of something, anything, but the Pride Lands was blanketed in unsettling silence. No crickets chirping among the grass reeds, no distant, echoing call of birds. And strangest of all, no gazelles. It was mid-afternoon—the place should've been crowded with herbivores.
The calm before the storm. The thought came to him suddenly and without warning, like a voice whispering into his ear. He hadn't been aware that one was brewing.
"The sky looks funny, doesn't it?" he mused to his companion.
"The eagle Gahiji says to expect a lightning storm," came the voice of the Pride Land's elephant matriarch, Obioma. She was feasting quietly on some of the leaves of a nearby marula tree. Her trunk lifted toward the dark sky, grey clouds swollen with hot air. "Says the wind feels right for it up there."
She looked back for a reaction, but the King did not give any indication that he had heard her. She forgave his lack of attentiveness. Today was a big day for him.
"It's been a long time since I experienced lightning during this point of the dry season, you know," she continued, picking off a fresh batch of leaves. It was the last this tree had to offer. "In fact, I suspect the last time was when you were a cub."
Ahadi's brow twitched. Still, he said nothing.
"Yes," Obi's trunk came to rest upon the marula. This grove had been here since she had first took up residency in the Lands. If the rain did not return soon, she would have to water it herself. "There were many storms during your childhood. The land still bears those burns, I think." She turned her great head to stare out into the plains. "You feel it in some places."
Finally, Ahadi replied, soft-spoken and thoughtful. "I know."
Another pang of anxiety hit his gut. He shifted restlessly, angling his body so he could speak to Obi and continue observing the strangely barren plains. He couldn't remember things ever being so quiet.
"Tell me, Obi, why you requested my presence."
The matriarch sighed, looking ashamed of herself for being the bearer of such information. "I'm afraid it's not good news, your majesty."
"When you come to me, it never is," Ahadi cracked a small smile, making the old elephant chuckle joylessly.
"I suppose not. My eldest was venturing near the borders a few days ago. You see, he had intended to visit my father's grave, but..."
"The hyenas," Ahadi finished, cringing. "Yes,I know. It's a sincere regret of mine that we haven't gotten rid of them yet. We're doing all we can to try and drive them out, but-"
"Their matriarch is heavily pregnant," the elephant interjected. Ahadi's tan face fell.
"To a stud named Azuz. Ebo is certain of it. He overheard two scouts. You know how those beasts are, they can hardly keep anything to themselves."
Ahadi's green eyes shut in pain. "Great Kings..."
Reports of the hyenas claiming territory in the Elephant Graveyard had been plaguing the Queen and King since they had taken over the throne. It was a relatively small pack at first, unusual for their species. It seemed that they had been testing the waters, seeing how much they could get away with before they built up a solid group. The sheer knowledge that the matriarch was willing to bring more pups into the world meant that they had a steady supply of food over there.
And the more hyenas there were, the more food they'd need.
"I would recommend doubling your patrols, sire. Employing some more lookouts is a good idea. Perhaps... tightening the laws regarding trespassing, for the time being. Until we can get rid of the vermin, so to speak."
"Yes," Ahadi agreed, and got up onto all four paws, nodding his silent thanks to his old friend. Obi always knew what to say. "Yes, you're right, of course. I'll tell Uru."
"We offer our assistance, as always," she bowed her head. "We understand that this wasn't your doing, Ahadi. We don't blame you. But we simply can't allow them to continue defacing our—"
"Your Majesty!"
Their conversation was interrupted by a cheetah cub. He hurtled toward them, paws skidding in the dirt as his lithe body came to a curt halt.
"It's the Queen," he panted. The mane on his back trembled with excitement he could hardly contain. "Congratulations, sir! You are a father!"
The anxiety in Ahadi's gut lifted momentarily, then came back down with a thud that make his back-legs feel weak. His mouth suddenly dried up.
"Well, er, thank you for sharing," he stammered, making his audience laugh. He turned to Obi. "I'm afraid I must cut our meeting short. We can discuss this another time."
"Of course," Obi's trunk grazed the lion's bulky shoulders. "Good luck, your highness. Send Uru my best wishes."
She smiled warmly as she bade the King farewell, watching him join the cheetah adolescent in a race back to Pride Rock. Once he was out of earshot, the matriarch heaved a great sigh, her massive shoulders going limp as she hung her head.
"You'll need it, my friend," Obi whispered under her breath.
She had seen the way Uru's stomach bulged during her last visit to Pride Rock. She could only hope that Ahadi was prepared for it.
King Ahadi's mind whirled. It had finally happened.
A new generation begins.
Uru had entered labour the previous morning. It was an agonising wait. The Pride Land's resident shaman, Rafiki, had stayed in their cave after Uru had first complained of stomach pains. He hadn't left her side since. It seemed to Ahadi that all those months of pregnancy hadn't been as long as he once thought they were. It reminded him of the days leading up to Uru's coronation. He hadn't been ready for that, either.
Pride Rock came into view and the cheetah cub returned to his mother, grinning as he boasted about being presented the honour of announcing the Royal Birth. Ahadi would've liked to converse with the mother, an old friend of his, but there was no time for his usual courtesies, the politeness that had made him so popular with the Pride Landers. He had to see his Queen.
He hurriedly climbed the pathway that led up to Pride Rock. He barely noticed how his bones ached, although he regretted not stopping to take a drink somewhere. As he neared his home, Ahadi saw that their majordomo, a hornbill named Pili, was waiting for him. If his mind hadn't been so focused on his wife he may have picked up on her nervousness.
"Sire," she greeted the lion with a customary bow. "I'm sorry I couldn't come myself, the matter was too urgent for me to—"
"Is she alright?" The King asked.
"I believe so, but..." Pili shook her head briskly, dismissing whatever she had intended to say. "She needs you, Ahadi. Please tend to her."
Ahadi nodded and stopped outside the cave entrance. He could smell the blood of his birthing wife, and hear the tiny mews of their newborn. He closed his eyes and allowed a moment to compose himself. A few deep breaths later and he was stepping inside.
The air was stuffy and hot in the cave. He had an awful feeling that the anxiety from earlier was coming to a head, and instinctively he tensed his muscles, readying himself for some sort of surprise.
I'm a father, he thought, smiling weakly. We have an heir.
The mews were getting louder. This little one was vocal.
Rafiki's grey fur was the first thing he made out in the darkness. The old mandrill sat faithfully at Uru's side, blocking Ahadi's view of his wife. His head was bowed, the hairs on his beard dancing as he gently breathed. When he turned to face Ahadi there was sadness in his bright eyes.
"Your Majesty, I..."
Ahadi frowned. Rafiki grabbed his stick and moved to reveal the brown-furred Queen.
Uru did not lift her head to greet her husband. Ahadi's maw formed soft, comforting words, but then he lowered his stare to her paws.
Cradled in her legs were lion cubs.
Uru had given birth to two.
"Great Kings," Ahadi gasped. He felt his body began to sway unsteadily. The cave felt soft under his feet, and the air became heavier. There was less of it now and he couldn't get enough.
"I did not foresee..." Rafiki mumbled, brows furrowed in confusion. Fingers rubbed almost furiously at his temple. "There was no signs..."
"Leave us," Ahadi instructed sharply. His tone took on a strength he wasn't aware he still had, and one he didn't think he'd ever extend to someone as respected as Rafiki. The mandrill paused, surprised, then nodded slowly, making his way out of the cave.
"Take care, Uru," he murmured as he passed by the new mother. Still, Uru said nothing.
Ahadi released a shaky exhale and lowered his body to the ground. He flopped gracelessly beside his wife. "Uru..."
"Oh, Adi," Uru whispered after a moment's silence. The cubs wriggled in her arms, seeking nurture. Though he could not see it, he could sense her eyes were growing wet. "I'm so sorry."
Ahadi tried to wet his mouth. His whole throat was parched. "Both...?"
"Both boys," Uru confirmed hopelessly.
The world began to spin around the lion. He shook his thick mane, trying to force the thoughts out of his head. This had to be a nightmare. An awful nightmare, just like the ones he had experienced before he was to become King.
Silently, Uru began to sob. Thick tears rolled down her face, and she sniffed, trying to stop them before they wet her cubs.
"We've been cursed, Adi. They're finally punishing us."
No, of course not. The Great Kings have mercy. They see all. They'd understand that it wasn't our fault. We hadn't asked for it happen. There was nothing we could do...
Those were the words Ahadi wanted to say. The words they both wanted to hear. But the King had promised his wife that he would never lie to her, no matter how daunting the truth was. They didn't want to be lied to, like they had been before. The truth was often an easier mouthful to swallow.
This could be the one exception, though.
Ahadi pressed his head into his wife's neck.
The King and Queen wept together.
