Note: First Fan-fiction so readers be gentle. Reviews and comments are well appreciated.
Disclaimer: It goes without saying that I do not own Disney, The Lion King, or any Disney characters mentioned herein. If I did, then I would be quite a bit more wealthy and I probably wouldn't be sitting at my computer writing fan-fiction.
Thank you for your attention and (hopefully) enjoy the story.
Family Ties
"Vitani!"
The scruffy lioness stood on the edge of the vast, red-stoned canyon. Before her, the enormous plateaus and myriad rock crevasses seemingly stretched on for eternity and gave the disturbing impression of some immense creature, beaten bloody and covered in sickly open veins. Below her, the rushing sanguinary river, sparkling ominously with a reddish hue, violently crashed against the stony passages in a display of unchecked brutality.
"Vitani!"
Her eyes widened as the name rang out like the terrible chime of a thousand bells, each synchronized perfectly to pierce the very depths of her soul.
"Help me, Vitani!"
The call rang out once more. Her heartbeat quickened as her breathing became shallow and erratic. Her head began to jerk about in a nervous, twitchy manner. Her eyes grew wide, darting from one place to another as she desperately searched for the source of the incessant, maddening cry.
But Vitani knew full well where the alarm was coming from. Knowing exactly what she would see, but dreading it all the same, the young lioness slowly looked down past the edge of the cliff. There, her eyes were met with a most horrible sight: The frightened gaze of another lioness.
An elder lioness.
Her mother, Zira.
Vitani couldn't bear to watch. Her mother, bruised and weakened from battle, was trying desperately, in an almost pathetic manner, to scale the side of the cliff. The lioness cried out once again.
"Help me, Vitani!"
Tears welled up in her eyes as she climbed down the steep cliff face, inching towards the figure of her pleading mother. Carefully, she reached down toward the lioness, stretching her entire body nearly to the point of tearing in two. She extended her paw as far as she could, hoping to connect with her mother's grasping claws.
"Take my paw!" she yelled through a sea of tears.
The old lioness climbed upward, reaching toward her daughter's helping paw. She had almost made it when she began to slip once more.
"Vitani!" she cried, scraping madly at the unyielding rock, "I can't make it!"
The scruffy lioness sobbed loudly as she yelled down towards her doomed parent.
"Yes you can! Don't give up!"
She reached for her mother yet again, her tears flowing faster than ever.
"You have to keep trying! Take my paw!"
Take my paw…
Take my paw…
Her cries rang out in the great, violent emptiness. Around her, the world seemed to warp and slow, leaving her dazed and confused like a punch-drunk prizefighter, battered into submission by her own terrible thoughts. The biting, spiteful, devastating emotions of panic and sadness surrounded her, assailing her from every angle. She looked down towards her mother, the very image of terrified desperation, as her tears dripped down to mingle with the surreal blood-water below.
"Take my paw!" she yelled out once more. It was too little too late.
One little slip and the claws detached from the cliff. She could only watch as her mother fell from the rock, plummeting to a watery grave.
For a moment, Vitani simply stood there, unable to fully process what had just happened. Around her, there was only silence; a deep and terrible silence intertwined with the horrific noise of rushing water. She screamed at the crimson skies above, before slowly sinking to the ground, sobbing.
Why did this have to happen?
Why?
Why?
Why?
She raised her head, sniffling as the tears continued to run down her face. What she saw then was a great blinding flash of light, and then, all was darkness.
oOo
Vitani awoke with a gasp, panting as if she had just run ten laps around the savannah. She flitted around nervously, just to make sure that she wasn't still dreaming. Sure enough, her eyes were met with the familiar sight of the dark, stony den.
She sighed with a mix of sadness and relief: Relief, for she had once again found herself in safety of Pride Rock, and sadness, for the nagging reminder of why she was there in the first place. She raised a paw to her face, feeling at the tepid dampness that had accumulated around her eyes. She really had been crying in her sleep.
Around her lay the snoring, sprawled out figures of the rest of the Outland pride, apparently (and most fortunately) undisturbed by her own night terrors. When the two prides had been brought together some days earlier, the "Outsiders" (as they were still called) had been given their own den to sleep in.
"Funny," she thought to herself; even when the two groups were united in supposed friendship, her people were still referred to as "Outsiders".
She looked around at her pridemates, watching quietly as they grunted or turned from side to side in the blissful obliviousness of sleep. She smiled weakly. At least some of them were happy.
Carefully, she raised herself up and tiptoed around the sleeping lionesses until she came to a small pool of crystal clear water, located at the very back of the cave. As she stood over it, a solitary stream of moonlight pierced through the roof of the den and struck the surface of the little pool. This created an eerie reflective luminescence in which she could see a perfect counterfeit of her own visage. Slowly lowering herself to the ground, she sat for a long moment, silently gazing at what had become of her.
What she had become was a real mess. Her appearance was scruffy (even by Outland standards) and she bore a maddened, disheveled look that only came with severe lack of sleep.
Quickly, she splashed some of the water onto her tired face, drinking in its cool, refreshing touch as the droplets ran down her snout. She stared down once more at her unkempt mirror image, before drawing a long and heavy sigh.
"Life isn't fair," she whispered, her eyelids slowly drooping, as if she could not bear to witness anymore.
What wasn't fair was when you watched powerlessly as your family was wiped out before your eyes. What wasn't fair was when you were forced, in the name of "courtesy", to put on a smile and act like it never happened. Most of all, what really wasn't fair was when you were assailed by nightmares, sharp and tenacious, like little splinters of memory that picked and poked and bothered and forced you to relive the worst moments of your life every single night. It was draining to say the least.
Strangely, even though the nightmares were the last things she wanted to think about, her mind could not help but wander back to them.
Death.
Always death.
That was the basis, the structure, the common theme shared by each and every one of her horrid little dreams.
The death of a family member…
It wasn't always the same dream either.
Sometimes it was her mother, hanging on for dear life at the edge of a great ravine.
Sometimes it was her brother, stuck in the unerring path of a huge, crushing log.
And sometimes, but only sometimes, it was her father, as though her fevered mind had laboured to dredge up his countenance from the depths of childhood memory.
She could picture him already (or at least, what her brain had constructed of him): Tall and dark-maned with a long vertical scar down his left eye. He was grandiose and commanding, but at the same time, kind and caring as a parent should be. He had often smiled at her with an air of fatherly love that betrayed his gruff exterior and she could still remember the strange warmth in his glowing, green eyes as he watched her cuddle up to him and rest her head against his side.
But all this was soon eclipsed by other, more terrible images: Scenes of fire and jagged cliffs and yelling and screaming and the smiling, razor-toothed maws of savage beasts-
"Enough!" she thought, yelling out in her head. As it stood, her sleep was too full of nightmares for her every waking moment to be consumed by them as well. She let her head fall to the ground. Bad dreams meant bad sleep, and when bad sleep was every night, it meant for unhealthy exhaustion on her part.
Vitani sighed once more. It was best not to think about it.
Suddenly, she heard something. It was a voice, low and raspy, that seemed to emanate from directly behind her.
"Vitani…"
The young lioness spun around, scanning the room to see where the voice had come from.
Nothing.
Nothing but a large, dark cave, filled with the silent bodies of the sleeping pride.
Vitani shuffled about uncomfortably, her eyes scanning the room. "Who's there?" she called out quietly.
A few moments came and went, but still she received no answer.
Vitani shrugged and lay down once more.
"You're probably just tired," she thought aloud, "Your mind's just playing tricks on you."
She closed her eyes and rolled onto her back. Maybe she could catch an hour's more rest before the sun came up.
"Vitani…"
There it was again. Vitani jerked up, this time quite violently. She eyed the walls nervously, as if some horrible monster would erupt from them at any moment. She looked back towards the unconscious lionesses, calling out in the darkness as she had only moments before.
"Who's there?"
Again her ears were met only by the snoring of her sleeping compatriots.
Vitani moaned in an irritated fashion. She was too "on edge" for sleep.
Exerting slightly more effort than she was used to, the lioness rose to her feet and padded tiredly toward the exit of the cave. Maybe she just needed some fresh air, she thought to herself.
As she left the darkness of the inner chamber, she slowly walked out onto the stony base of Pride Rock. Above her, the stars and the pale glimmer of the moon acted as the only source of illumination in the somber African night.
She paused for a moment, if only to reorient herself and figure out which way to travel next. This, in her mind, seemed quite odd, considering the fact that she must of scouted out this area perhaps hundreds (if not thousands) of times before, during her time in the Outlands. After all, she had always been one of the best hunters in the pride and was well suited for such tasks. Or at least that was what her mother had always told her. She mused upon the idea as she climbed up the rock towards the main promontory.
Little Tani, the greatest hunter of them all.
The thought was entertaining to say the least.
It wasn't long before she had climbed atop the main platform, that revered place upon which kings had been crowned, battles had been fought, and where each new generation had been brought forth into a world it didn't yet understand.
Making sure not to trip or fall in her half-awake state, the lioness carefully navigated up the jutting, stony structure toward the end of the promontory. Around her, the world was asleep. Places that were familiar by day turned to darkness and shadows by night. It wasn't entirely menacing, nor was it particularly frightening. Simply put, it was just a little lonely.
As she came to the very tip of the rock, she sat upright on her haunches, perching herself precariously close to the stone's edge. She closed her tired eyelids as she let her mind wander.
Even with the long years of history so stubbornly attached to it, Vitani never could help but wonder what made this place so special. It was, after all, just a rock. What made it so different from every other rock in the known world? Was it its size? Was it its shape? Was it who dwelt there that made it important? Was it the tradition associated with it; the strange notion of kingship that had been sought after by so many?
Her mother had told her much about this place. She remembered her mother's wide-eyed rants about how the Rock was a place of power, the seat of royalty, a gathering place where creatures, great and small, would meet to pay their respects to the true king, her father. Vitani had loved listening to her stories, even though some of them would border on raving. It was always so fascinating to hear of these little details that she herself was too young to remember. At the same time though, it was always a bit painful to hear that they had lost so much. She had often asked herself how life would have turned out had they not been exiled or if her father had not been k-
She jerked her head away at the thought of it. She didn't even want to finish the word whose beginning now hung in her mind. She sighed despairingly.
The place where her father was murdered.
That was another name that her mother had given to the Rock. She was a bit blunt that way. She would constantly expound upon how their father had been left to die by his own nephew and how they would eventually recapture the Rock for themselves. Using only her words, she painted a fantastical picture of how "the chosen one", Kovu, would reign supreme as King of all the lands. It was this very prospect that made her older brother, Nuka, cringe at the very mention of it. She remembered how he would always complain about how he should have been "the chosen one" and how her mother, in retort, would always snap at him for even thinking in those terms. She giggled to herself.
"Oh, Nuka," she thought, "Always just one behind everyone else."
With that notion in the past, her head slowly sunk downward as she tried to choke back a little sob. She didn't want to cry again, it was unbefitting. The truth was that memories like these made her better appreciate her family, and by extension, made their loss all the more saddening.
She opened her eyes and stared at the darkened lands before her. Still no light on the horizon. One could still see the stars, hanging in the sky like little pinpricks of light, shining through the great black curtain of the nighttime. Before her stood the great expanse that was the Pridelands.
"Kovu's lands," she said unconsciously, punctuated only with a subtle hint of contempt.
She had stated correctly. Soon, King Simba would pass the mantle of rulership onto his daughter, making Kovu the official consort to the new Queen. For the time being, it was almost as if her mother's plan had worked after all.
For a moment, Vitani continued to sit, listening to the strangely musical sounds of night, before lying down on her stomach, her nose positioned near the edge of the cliff. The sleepless hours were now weighing down upon her. If she was going to get anything accomplished tomorrow, she needed to get some rest.
"Vitani…"
The whispering voice had returned to plague her yet again.
This time, she summoned all her strength, raising herself to her feet and shouting behind her with equal parts concern and annoyance.
"What do you want?"
She turned to see the dark figure of a young, black-maned lion: Her brother, Kovu.
"Oh, I'm sorry Tani," he stuttered, taken aback by her sudden outburst, "I-I didn't mean to bother you."
Realising her error, she cleared her throat and spoke more softly.
"No, it's ok," she said sheepishly, "I…just…thought you were someone else."
The dark-maned lion walked over towards the edge of the rock and lay down beside her. He eyed her in the usual concerned sibling manner.
"You alright Tani? I thought I heard you yelling from the den. When I went down and you weren't there, I came around to look for you."
She stared at him for a moment, sporting an extremely embarrassed look. Had she really been that loud?
"Oh," she said, lying down next to him, "I just needed to…"
She thought to herself for a moment. Why had she climbed all the way up here?
"…to get some fresh air," she continued.
Yeah, that was it; get some fresh air. She laughed half-heartedly to herself.
"You know these caves," she said jokingly, "It can get pretty stuffy down there with the rest of them."
"Well," he said, rolling onto his back, "Simba had offered to let you stay in the royal chambers with us."
Simba had offered. She had to keep herself from rolling her eyes.
"No, it's alright," she said in the most reassuring manner possible, "It's really okay."
Kovu turned his head to get a better look at his sister.
"Vitani," he began, "Is there something bothering you? Maybe something you want to talk about?"
She stared across the darkened landscape.
"No," she lied, "Why?"
"Oh, no reason," he said, looking up at the stars, "It's just that…Kiara was wondering why you weren't at the ceremony a few days ago."
He rolled over once more and propped himself up.
"You know, when we, um…got together?"
"Hmm," she said quietly, still staring ahead, "Must have slipped my mind."
Again another lie. It was for a good reason though. She wasn't about to tell him that she had skipped out on their marriage ceremony because she had thought that her time would be better spent brooding upon the death in her family.
"Vitani…" he said, sounding even more concerned and heartfelt than before, "You know I worry about you. Kiara worries about you too."
He smiled to himself.
"She's nice that way."
Vitani kept staring silently ahead.
"Tani," he asked carefully, "What do you…think of her?"
Her eyes turned to meet his gaze.
"What do I think of her?"
He nodded affirmatively.
Vitani turned back toward the land before her.
"She's…nice, I guess."
Kovu lowered his head, turning slightly before muttering under his breath.
"Okay," he said quietly.
Vitani sighed. She had just succeeded in adding another awkward moment to an already awkward conversation. She kept still for a few seconds more, before her ears were met with the sound of a familiar whisper.
"Vitani…"
She glanced sideways at her brother.
"What, Kovu?"
He cocked his head, staring at her perplexedly.
"I didn't say anything."
Vitani turned away from him guiltily. Kovu inched closer to his sister.
"Are you sure you're alright?"
"Great," she thought. "Now he thinks that I'm loosing my mind. That's really all I need."
She turned to him and grinned.
"Naw, I'm fine," she continued, dazed, "I'm just a little tired, that's all."
He smiled, "Well, try to get some sleep, ok Tani?"
She smiled back at him in a sort of half-awake manner.
"Ok, Kovu."
He smiled at her once more, giving her a friendly nuzzle, before turning around and trotting off toward the royal chamber.
She watched tiredly as he departed, lowering her head to the ground and slowly closing her eyes once he was out of view.
"Oh brother…" she thought.
There she lay till the coming morn, not necessarily in sleep, but in the simple, silent gesture of waiting for the break of day.
