A/N: This is the finished version of the story. No further editing will be done, unless I completely snap and feel that there's something wrong with it (other than the obvious part that's very wrong with it). Many thanks to Ochi for helping the story get this far. Enjoy.

oOo

I'm Not Okay

I licked my lips in anticipation as I watched Ushairi from the grass. She was drinking water with that tongue of hers, how it flicked in and out and in. Just like a snake's. In and out and in, as her ears twitched, listening.

Of course, she wouldn't hear me. She never did. Smell me, that might be something that she'd do. She'd done that a few times. But she'd never hear me. She never did. Not with those little twitching ears. And that little flicking tongue.

Honestly, the desire to rape her had never been stronger. But that would be unacceptable. There was too much on the line to give into a desire like that. Rape would undoubtedly mean exile, maybe even execution. Right now, they had no reason. I simply had to control that particular desire.

In and out and in and out. I felt my own tongue following hers. I began to slowly creep toward her. She stopped drinking. She knew I was here. I felt my breathing become heavier in anticipation. I broke my cover, leaping at her, hearing her scream. I tackled her into the water and licked her chest in wild bestiality.

Of course, she had no reservations as she whacked me across the face, I'm sure of that. Maybe one or two as she kicked me in the throat, but I doubt it. She tried to get up and run, but I leapt at her again, wrapping my forelegs around her waist, just above her hind legs. I went numb as I realized the position I was in, and the power I had. She slipped out of my grasp in that brief moment of weakness.

I collapsed into the shallow water, then looked up at her. She was on the other side of the shore already, and was screaming obscenities at me. I couldn't quite comprehend them, but I got the general idea of disgust. She turned and ran into the grass.

I laughed quietly as I got out of the water and shook myself dry. I wasn't going to run after her. That wouldn't be satisfying. I'd had enough for now; I'd just wait until next time. I knew there'd be a next time. There was always a next time.

oOo

Of course, I knew the words that would be coming out of Arezo's mouth before he even said them. It was the same thing he always said when he found me soaking wet, or covered in thorns, or dirty and dusty, or with any injury on me at all.

"You did it again?"

Of course, he was normally right about it. "Yeah," I said. "I did it again."

"You've got to stop that," he said seriously, the same as he always did. "One of these days something's going to—"

"Something's going to happen I regret, I know."

"I'm serious," he said. "I'm just a prince. Not the heir. There's not a thing that I can do to stop you getting kicked out. And might I remind you," he said, his voice becoming annoyed as I scratched my ear hard, apparently not paying attention. He was half-right about that, "that it's the prince's chosen mate that you're messing around with."

"You don't know if he's going to marry Ushairi or not," I said, lying down. I could care less what the son of a bitch did to her. Or with her. He'd never stop me.

"I know I want to be there when he beats you down. I'd be the only one in the whole pride that'd probably even try to stop your death. And that's exactly what it's going to end up as. He's going to kill you, all because of that . . ."

"Fantasy? Obsession?"

"Obsession, I guess. Either that, or he'll get you kicked out. And there won't be a thing I can do about either."

"So you say."

"Look, seriously, why don't you just give it up?"

"You ask that every time," I said, bored with the topic.

"I mean it." He sighed. "I wonder if anyone else who has a nut-job for a friend has this problem."

"And what's that supposed to mean?" I asked testily.

"You know you're not normal."

I rolled onto my back as I grunted in assent. I could agree with that statement easily. I knew I wasn't normal. That didn't mean that I'd try to do anything about it, though. "Really," I said, "is there any problem with being like me?"

"Shujaa, it's just not nice to do what you're doing to Ushairi. One of these days, one of you is going to really get hurt. I don't want that to happen."

"Yeah, yeah, spare me the crap."

"Just try to stop," he said for the umpteenth time. "Please."

"I can't," I said. "I have to do it."

"Why?"

"I—I just have to. You don't know what she's like, Arezo. She needs this just as much as I do, I know it." I felt myself trembling as I thought of Ushairi.

"She's an ordinary lion, just like me and—well, like me."

"But gods, what she does to me . . ."

"Shujaa, it's all in your head. That's all."

"Does that mean it isn't real?"

"Uh, yeah."

It doesn't mean it isn't real. I know it doesn't mean it isn't real. It has to be real. If it isn't real . . . well, if it isn't real, what is?

I still remember the first time I did that to her. We were just cubs. I caught her near a pond, just like I did today. She wasn't expecting it at all. I took her head and plunged it underneath the water. She almost immediately got out from underneath my body and my paws, but a second later I had strengthened it, and back down she went. She stayed down until she stopped moving.

I pushed her out of the water and pushed on her chest once or twice, trying to get the water out. After that I just sat back and watched. If what I was doing wasn't helping, why do it? She finally sputtered awake and began gasping down air. I grinned. I hadn't killed her. She turned to me and immediately began to yell at me, using a whole variety of words that I was sure her mother hadn't taught her.

I just sat there, grinning. I knew she wanted it. She wanted it every time. To be strangled, shoved, cut, drowned. She needed it, just like I did. We had to do it. It had to be this way. If it wasn't this way . . . There was no point in thinking about that. It had to be this way.

"Hello? Shujaa?" I suddenly realized that I had been daydreaming. Arezo was waving his paw in front of my face. "You there?"

"Don't be stupid," I said.

"I said, 'Are you hungry?'"

"A little. I can wait."

"They're not hunting tomorrow. No one's hunting until the day after, I think."

I considered it. I wasn't that hungry, but I wasn't sure if I could stand the wait until the next day. If I gorged today, I should be fine. "Alright. Who's hunting where today?"

"Let me think . . . Shani's night hunting, I think, if you can wait until then."

I frowned, thinking. "Sure. Why not?" I turned onto my side. "I can wait that long."

oOo

As I walked into the den, I could feel plenty of eyes flick over to me. They did every time that I walked in, as if they couldn't help but notice my greatness. Of course, they thought I was filth. They didn't see all that I could be, all that I was. Ushairi, of course, didn't seem to appreciate that part of me at all. I don't know why. It had to be this way, me and her. It had to be.

She wasn't in the den. Neither was Aushi. The scumbag was probably off comforting the "love of his life" after evil Shujaa had attacked poor, helpless Ushairi. He didn't understand me, but I understood him all too well. He was filth. The pride should have looked at him like they did me, and given me the praise and honor they gave the stupid prince. They didn't understand either of us.

I lied down in my corner of the den. They always left it vacant for me. At least they gave me that much respect. It wasn't fair, I knew that. I should have more space than a measly corner. I should have had all the room that King Janja had. It should have been me in that space in the back of the den.

Of course, I have nothing against the good king. Don't assume that for a moment. Long live King Janja. It's not his fault that he has so many privileges that should also be mine. He had them thrust upon them, unlike that asshole Aushi who strode around like he deserved every last bit of prestige and privilege he got.

I lied down and closed my eyes, listening to the dull roar that was the speech of the den. It was soothing to let it wash over me, like a stream washing over a rock, leaving it unchanged and still there even after the stream has dried up forever. I very nearly drifted off to sleep. Then I heard someone calling my name.

"Shujaa."

My eyes opened to see a masculine set of legs in front of me. I looked up to see King Janja. "Sire," I said.

"I understand that you attacked Ushairi again today," he said gravely.

"If you want to call it that."

King Janja hesitated. He finally said, "Would you mind walking with me? I'd prefer to talk about this privately."

"Sure." I got up and walked out of the den, following the king. The king finally stopped next to a nearby waterhole. I sat down and waited for him to talk.

"Shujaa," he said, "this has to stop."

"What, sire?"

"Your tormenting of Ushairi."

"Why?"

"Because it—Shujaa," he said softly, "you're forcing Ushairi to live through something very, very horrible. She hates what you're doing to her. She's told me. It has to stop."

"Sire, it can't stop."

"Why not?"

"We have to do this. She needs this."

King Janja sighed and looked down into the waterhole. This was a waste of my time. I should have known he was going to drag me down here for this. Now he was probably going to give me some kind of lecture about the "goodness in me" and "looking deep down inside" and shit like that. I was pretty tempted to walk away.

"Shujaa," said the king, "I'm not sure she needs it. I think it's you who needs it."

"Sire, I know she needs it."

The king turned to me and placed a paw gently on the back of my neck. "Shujaa, I think you're sick. I want to help you get better."

"I'm fine, sire," I said, annoyed. That was the exact word that Aushi always used for me. Sick. Gods, how I hated that word. Of course, I had to be lenient for King Janja. I'm sure he didn't know what he was saying.

King Janja shook his head. "No, Shujaa, I don't think you are. I know you've had a—a less-than-ideal life. I know you lost your mother at a very early age. Maybe that's what started it all. I don't know. But Shujaa, I have to stop this between you and Ushairi. For both your sakes."

"You can't stop it," I said, forgetting the "sire" in my anger. That he—the king, of all animals—that he thought that he could play with my life—it was laughable. The king couldn't stop me. He couldn't even try. But that he thought he could—that was unacceptable.

"Shujaa, I know that this is going to be difficult for you."

"You have no idea what you're doing to Ushairi," I said furiously. "None."

King Janja paused. "Is that a threat?" he said quietly.

"She needs this, sire. She needs it."

King Janja frowned. "Shujaa, you don't understand your actions," he said gently.

"I know perfectly well what I'm doing."

"You could hurt Ushairi very badly."

"She'll never get hurt," I said.

"I can't trust you on that," said King Janja. "I have to give you two options. I need you to stop this. I'm not ordering you to do this as king, but as—as a friend."

"You're not Arezo."

"I know. But I'm his father. I hope that'd count for something."

"You're not Arezo. You're not my friend."

"Well then, I'm asking you this as me. Lion to lion. Please, stop what you're doing to Ushairi."

"I can't, sire."

"Alright, then," sighed King Janja. "You don't give me any choice. I want you to go to the shaman tomorrow."

"I'm not ill, sire."

"She's going to try to help you, Shujaa."

"With what? I'm perfectly fine."

"Shujaa, you're not well—"

"The only thing I'm not is normal!" I said, my temper flaring up again. "And I don't want to be, either!"

"Shujaa, please. It's for the best. She can help you."

"Sire, you can't stop me!"

"Yes, Shujaa, I can," said the king. "But I don't want it to come to that. I want you to go to the shaman tomorrow."

"No," I said firmly.

"If you don't, I'll have to exile you." I couldn't believe this. He thought he should actually give me orders. The nerve of him. "And if you resist exile at all, I'd have to have you killed." The nerve of him. "I'm sorry, Shujaa, but you've left me with no other choice. I can't ignore this any longer."

I stared at him defiantly. He thought he should actually tell me what to do. This was inconceivable. It was an outrage.

"Please, Shujaa. I don't want to have to send a member of my pride away. Just go to the shaman tomorrow. Please."

I said nothing in my fury. He stood up and walked back to the den. Gods, I was angry. Someone was going to have to pay for all of this. And this time, it wouldn't be me.

oOo

I walked over to Arezo and stood in front of him. He was busy talking to Umo. He looked up at me and said, "Yes?"

"I want to talk to you."

"Sure," he said. "Sit down."

"Alone."

"Can this wait?" he asked, looking back over at Umo. She was, of course, looking at me like I was some kind of disgusting thing. Everyone had that look for me, even if they tried to hide it. She didn't appreciate what I did for her, and probably never would.

"No," I said. "We need to talk."

Arezo sighed. "Fine. Let's make it fast." He got up and headed out of the den, me following him impatiently. He finally stopped at the same watering hole that King Janja had left me at. "Now what was so important that it had to drag me away from Umo?"

"King Janja wants me to see the shaman tomorrow."

"That's it? That's what you drug me all the way out here—gods!"

"If I don't go, he'll kill me."

"Oh, stop being melodramatic—"

"If I don't go, he'll exile me. And if I resist—and I will—he'll kill me."

Arezo stared at me, stunned. "You're not joking?" he said quietly.

"No."

"What do you expect me to do? If Dad's said something like that, there's no way I can change his mind."

"I do not need to go see some fool and be told that I'm—wrong inside."

"Shujaa," said Arezo quietly, "you're not normal—"

"And is that wrong?!" I demanded. "The sacrifices I make for you, for all of you, every day—"

"Shujaa, please, don't get started on that."

"It makes me sick to think that he even has the right to tell me what to do! Who does he think he is? A god?!"

"He's the king, Shujaa. And he can kill you. Or exile you. I've been over this."

"He should consider himself blessed to have someone in this kingdom like me!"

"Shujaa, he sees things differently. Now look, just go to the shaman. I don't know what you want me to do, but I'm not going to even try to talk him out of this. You just need to go tomorrow. Maybe it won't be what you think it is."

"I'm in perfect health," I growled. "What do you think it is?"

"Look, just go. Maybe it's for the best. And besides, if you don't go . . . well, I don't want to see a friend die, Shujaa."

"Fine," I said bitterly. "Just—go back to Umo."

"Thank you," he said. He got up, and I was left alone at the waterhole for the second time that day.

oOo

It was a dream. I knew that as soon as I woke up and remembered it. It was too perfect to be any memory. So wonderful, so full of ecstasy.

It was by a waterhole, and there, standing on the edge, her back turned to me, was Ushairi. I rushed toward her, and she turned toward me and screamed. I tackled her into the waterhole and dragged her down, hearing her scream suddenly silenced by the water. I clamped down my jaws on her neck and strangled her, feeling her thrash underneath me.

She knocked me off with a paw and tried to swim back toward the surface. I dug my claws into her flanks and pulled her further down. I swung my paw toward her chest and punched into it, feeling her body break under my strength. Her blood began to rush out of her as her heart continued to pump. She tried to give her anguish sound, but the water drowned out all noise that she could make.

I clamped my jaws around her neck again and squeezed, feeling her thrashing increase, until it finally began to slow, and then she didn't move. I let go, and watched her sink down into the depths of the water, her mouth open, gasping for air that would never, ever come; her eyes wide from pain; her chest trailing a stream of blood down behind her. I grinned as I saw her go deeper and deeper, down to where it was so dark I couldn't even see her anymore.

When I woke up, I smiled, remembering the dream. I tried to go over it again, but found that the more I tried, the less I retained. It slipped away, my mind being unable to remember. There was one thing that didn't escape me though: her desperate, gasping face as she sank down to the depths, leaving only her blood behind to diffuse into the water.

oOo

A few of the lionesses had left the den, me staying behind. Ushairi had been one of the ones that had left. I knew what she was thinking. It was better to leave and be safe than stay and hope that I might leave. She didn't know that I had to leave today, though.

I sighed and rolled over. I suddenly found King Janja's head over mine. "Good morning, Shujaa," he said. "Sleep well?"

"Maybe," I said, rolling onto my side so I wouldn't have to stare at him.

"The shaman is waiting for you. She's a very busy leopard. It isn't really polite to keep her waiting."

I said nothing.

King Janja turned and walked back to his mate. I continued to lie there, weighing my options. I could die, or I could humiliate myself. I honestly didn't know which one I would hate more.

Arezo had said to go. He was my friend; I was supposed to value his opinion. I did, most of the time. But to think I had a problem . . . I knew perfectly well what I was doing. I wasn't a head-case like the king thought I was. He didn't understand what I did for him, for his precious mate, for his filthy son.

And he wasn't even punishing Ushairi for going along with this. She suffered, just like me, but he had no problem at all with her suffering. It was unfair beyond all belief. You'd almost think it wasn't obvious that she had volunteered for the whole thing.

And I was going to have to reduce myself to the level of being placed under scrutiny by a leopardess? This was beyond belief. Humiliation or death. Someone in my position should never have been forced to make that kind of choice. I could somewhat understand my lack of privileges, but this . . . this was insanity.

I got up and headed for the exit of the den. I heard, just before I left, "Shujaa."

I didn't bother to turn to look at the king. "Yes, sire."

"Where are you going?"

"Water."

"Shujaa."

"Yes, sire?"

"If you don't go, don't bother coming back." I heard the seriousness in his voice. I also heard sadness that he had been "driven" to this choice. I didn't bother to respond. I just walked out.

oOo

When I got to the shaman's den, I was still kicking myself for doing this. But this would be fast. Just a one-time thing. Come here, be told I was crazy, leave, and I could forget all about this. It was worth it to continue. Ushairi couldn't live without me.

The shaman looked up as I approached her den. She looked back down at whatever she was doing as she saw me approach. I couldn't see; she had her back turned to me. She was about the average size for a leopardess. A little larger than normal, maybe; around the size of a lioness. All in all, she looked ordinary.

I walked into her den and approached her. Small piles of leaves and herbs were around the walls of her den, neatly arranged. "You know," she said as I came closer, "it's considered good manners to ask before you enter another animal's home." She turned around to look at me. "You must be Shujaa. The king said you'd be coming in sometime today."

"Let's just get this over with."

"Get what over with?" she asked politely.

So she was going to play that game. I sure wasn't. She just stared at me for a second, then continued on with what she was doing. I moved to get a better view and sat down. She was trying to do something with a rock and a plant.

"What are you doing?"

"My assistant, Mala, you must know him, he's decided to take the day off. He's sick again. Just about as believable as me having wings, but what do you expect from a newlywed? So I've got to do my grinding myself today. I think I've about got the hang of it."

Honestly, it looked like she was getting nowhere with that leaf, other than mashing it into a pulp.

"Thank goodness we're just short on d'ron. Barely ever have a call for it." She stopped, and looked back up at me. "So why are you here? You seem healthy enough."

"Great. Then we're done here," I said, getting up to leave.

"The king wouldn't have sent you here unless he believed it was necessary." Her voice had gained an edge. "So you can stop right there. Now, what's wrong with you?"

"You expect me to believe he hasn't told you?" I asked, irritated.

"Oh, he's told me. But I'd like to hear what you think it is." She left her leaf and rock and moved over toward the center of the den. She lied down as she said, "Come here, go ahead and lay down."

I did so. "He had me come here because he thinks I'm crazy."

"Are you?"

"No, I damn well am not."

"Well, why does he think you are?"

"Because of—of what I do for the world."

The shaman leaned back. "Maybe you'd better explain this from the beginning. Might want to make yourself comfortable." She sprawled out on her side, hind legs sticking out while her forelegs were firmly on the ground. I don't know what I was expecting, but not that.

"I—I suffer so you don't have to."

"How?" she asked curiously.

"Look," I said, irritated, "I don't have to tell you everything about my life—"

"You do. And besides, I really think you want to tell someone, don't you?"

"I can tell Arezo."

"Humor me," she said, that edge back in her voice.

I knew this was a waste of time. I was going to have to do it anyway. "I—I murder Ushairi."

"Ushairi?"

"A lioness. And I do it over and over. So you won't have to worry."

"About what?"

"About guilt. About regret. About any of that."

She stared at me, obviously not quite understanding. "I think you need to start from the very beginning."

"And how am I supposed to do that?"

"When did you start this? An animal, maybe? A place?"

I frowned. I didn't have to tell her everything. "My—mother. My mother was a murderer. She killed another lioness. She drowned her. I don't know why; they had some fight, and Mom drowned her in front of me. And she was—just so scared after it. She kept on stroking me and telling me she loved me and doing everything she could to show she wasn't scared at all. And it just made it more obvious.

"And the next day came, and the lioness was missing, and Mom 'fessed up. And the den was all so scared of her, and the king ordered her execution for the next day. So she spent one last night with me, and spent most of it awake and crying. And I asked her if it wasn't better, all of it, just to have someone suffer for you, for everyone. Have them do the crying and all that. And she said that yes, that would really be a wonderful thing.

"Course, next day she died. She was given too much of some herb, and they said it was quick and painless. Course, from the way her eyes were rolling, you'd sure think it wasn't. But a few days after that, I started with Ushairi. I could be that animal, I thought. No one could ever have to worry again.

"And then it all began to make more and more sense. What is the worst act that you could think of? Killing. So that's what I had to do. I could kill. And one murder, that could take care of so many little bad acts, and everyone could be happy, and not have to worry. But I would feel their pain.

"And then I realized something else. I was only half of it. Because you see, when I started with Ushairi—she wanted to help me. I asked for help, and she said yes, and we did it. And she knew the importance. I was taking care of the punisher, but what about the victim? Didn't they need someone?

"And she just kept on presenting herself for it more and more. And I knew then that I had to do it. That we had to do it. For all of you. I needed to do this. And she did. I want it more than anything. I know she feels the same way."

"It sounds like a pretty heavy task," she said.

"It's a thankless task," I said bitterly.

"No one believes you, do they?"

"No. They think I'm trying to kill Ushairi."

"Well, I have to admire your persistence," she said. She rolled fully onto her stomach. "Especially considering the lack of rewards. Just—just curiosity, what do you think you deserve?"

"You have no idea," I said. "Gods, it's so unfair. The things I do, and I get nothing. Nothing."

"I see." She sat up. "I don't think you're insane," she said. I practically purred with contentment. I may have even felt a little growl escape me. Justice. "But," she said, "I do want you to come back again. The king will tell you when."

"What for?" I asked suspiciously.

"To talk."

"About?" I growled.

"You."

I knew what she meant. You're not crazy, but come back and I'll cure you. "I'm not crazy," I said angrily. I felt my temper flaring up again.

"You're most definitely not normal," she said. "The king will tell you when to come back."

"I'm not coming back," I growled as I headed for the exit.

"I thought you two had a deal," she said. "You be a good boy, and he doesn't rip your face off." I looked around with a snarl. "The threat will still stand," she said. I could see a smirk crossing her face. "I'll expect you back soon."

I didn't say another word. I stormed out of the den. Even she was blackmailing me.