A/N- Final chapter! Thanks to everyone who has reviewed so far, I love the support! And for those who haven't yet....come on! You've read this far, obviously there is something worthwhile. Let me know what you liked AND didn't like. Enjoy please!
Chapter 4: Sacrifice-
"I have to go out with the hunting party, will you be ok on your own?" Sarabi asked. Actual concern colored her tone and filled me with a rush of pleasure.
"Of course, I'll just play around here," I'm quick to assure her. "There's plenty of places I haven't explored yet."
"All right then, I'll make sure to drag you back something extra special," the queen (excuse me, former queen) promised, nuzzling me on the head. The sound of bone skittering across the stone nearby freezes her halfway through the motion, and together we glance over to see a scraggly hyena with slobbering jaws chase after the cracked femur. "I don't think they'll bother you but stay alert ok?" she whispers in my ear, giving it a final lick before glaring at the scavengers scattered around.
"Yes mam," I promise. It's been nearly a week since the prince and king were killed in the stampede. My mother is still gone, and the queen had continued to look after me in the tumultuous first days with Scar as king. I think it was a comfort for both of us to have the other there. Several nights we had each awoken at the same time, cuddling close together and sharing silent tears. I know that she has the consolations of the entire pride in her mourning state, but it is a pleasure to feel as though I am a big part of that healing.
Sarabi glanced over her shoulder once more before she disappeared onto the savannah with the other lionesses. I reared up on my hind legs, smiling and waving a paw at her, making the light brown queen smile back before padding after the hunting party.
It was so strange.
To me, who had never really had a loving mother, it was strange to have someone so concerned for me, and not just for how it would affect them. My mother had always made sure that I was well fed and kept clean. She even took the time to teach me hunting moves and fighting tactics in case I ever needed to defend myself. The way she taught these lessons though, always made me feel like some sort of trained pet, learning these things for her pleasure and enjoyment.
My mother always made it a point to remind me why I needed to learn these skills, making me push myself with thinly veiled threats and disapproval. She was constantly saying that I would never be queen if I couldn't perfect my hunting stalk and the final pounce. After all, what kind of respect would a queen who couldn't take down prey earn from the rest of the pride?
"The same kind you get from me mother," I mutter quietly, padding around the base of Pride Rock. Relief and fear both flood me as the words leave my lips. Relief that I've finally voiced my disgust with my mother, and fear that somehow she will know and punish me for it. Nervously I cast my eyes around, but even the hyenas are absent from this quarter of Pride Rock. No one is around to overhear me other than the insects buzzing around the golden top of the dry grass.
"I don't care!" I growl out defiantly. Spirit sparking within me, I clambered on top of a small boulder and faced the open grassland. My short time out from under my mothers' paw had inspired a confidence in me that I never knew existed. "I'm not afraid!" I yell out of the yellowed grass, loosing a small roar that left me cringing slightly at its frailty. Hopefully I would grow into a better quality of the sound.
"My how you've grown!" a familiar voice makes me gasp and choke.
"Mother!" I sputter, instinctively sliding down from my perch rather than wait for a paw swipe to send me crashing down to the ground. That insincere smile I know so well is on her face as my mother pushes into full view from the tall grasses.
"We may need to work on that little roar of yours," she rumbles gently, and I can sense the held back laughter. "Though such spirit is admirable."
"Yes mother, thank you," I answer dutifully, sitting before her and tucking my paws in neatly like I've been taught.
"All in good time though," she tells me briskly, turning with a twitch of her tail back to the edge of the savannah. "Things are about to change around here and we'll have to see what position you can best serve in."
For a minute I'm confused, wondering how she has so quickly adapted to the idea that Scar is king and that with Simba dead I can never be queen. Then clarity hits me so hard I have to blink and clear my vision.
She doesn't know!
The sudden realization shocks me. In her absence my mother wouldn't have heard about the deaths of Simba and Mufasa.
"Mother there's something I need to…" I begin but she quickly interrupts me with a tap of her tail on my nose.
"Not now Nala, there's someone I want you to meet," she scolds, voice slightly muffled by the long grass waving around her head. "This is your little brother," she purrs, lifting a light colored bundle out of the golden grain.
I can only stare in awe as she sets him down in front of me, lost in his perfect, miniature form. His pelt is the pale yellow of the dawn sun, not so bright as Simbas' but still eye catching. The baby spots speckling his coat are a pure copper, fading gently as they travel down his back and disappearing on the shorter fur of his legs. I can't help but reach out and gently touch one of his baby paws, the pads still pink and soft with bare hints of sharps claws at the tips. At my touch his eyes open, brilliant amber rather than the usual dark blue of newborns.
"He's beautiful," I breathe, entranced as he flutters his eyelashes in the brightness of the sun. I don't even break off my gaze as I ask, "What's his name?"
"Mheetu," my mother purrs, bending down and licking him. The little cub squeaked happily at her, recognizing his mother. "Usually I would keep him away from the pride longer, but I couldn't wait to show him off to everyone," she purred out, nuzzling my brother over onto his back as he giggled and batted at her nose.
"He's going to be your future king."
Her words confuse me into silence. Then the puzzle pieces of my mind fall together. His amber eyes, Mheetu was Mufasa's son. My mother finally had a son that she could try to set on the throne of a kingdom.
For a second my thoughts slip away from the bundle of fur lying in front of my paws. What will my mother do with me now that she has a male heir to help her gain power in the pride? Without any male cubs she was content in making make sure I was queen to secure her place in the pride hierarchy. As mother to the king's mate she would have a good deal of influence in the run of the kingdom. However, it wouldn't be half so much as she would if she were mother to the king himself.
Mheetu…she was going to talk Mufasa into naming her son crown prince rather than Simba. He had the power to do that; even I knew that it wasn't necessarily the eldest son who was given the crown. My mother had lost none of her beauty in the time since we had left the Sun Desert Pride, I didn't doubt she could convince the king somehow.
If the king had still been Mufasa.
What my mother didn't know was that Simba and Mufasa are dead, and that Scar was the new king. I couldn't guess his mind as well as his golden brothers', but Scar didn't seem the type to take kindly to having an heir of Mufasas around—even an illegitimate one.
He might even kill my brother.
My brother.
My little brother.
My innocent little brother.
Who, like me, hadn't done anything more than live.
A feeling of protectiveness that I hadn't ever known flooded my limbs and strengthened my heart.
"Mother Mufasa is dead!" I shouted, desperate to get her attention and make her listen. The idea that my brother might be in danger frightened me more than worry that she would strike me with a paw.
"What?!" my mother growled, glaring down as though she thought I might be lying.
"It's true!" I stated, standing firmly before her. My little brother, unawares that he was the center of our conversation, scrabbled on the ground between us in newborn wonder. "Scar's the king now," I continued when my mother just looked at me, speechless. "Simba and Mufasa…" I choke back the tears and breath deep to loosen the tightening of my throat. I had to tell her. "They both died in a stampede a few days ago."
"You little lying…" my mother growled in fury, cutting off the rest of her words. So fast I couldn't even comprehend it a front paw had me pinned to the ground, claws catching and twisting an ear painfully. "Don't you know better than to pull a trick like that on me?" she hissed, hot breathe in my face.
"I'm not lying," I yelp fiercely, fear lacking in the desperation to make her realize how much things had changed in her absence. "Scar even let the hyenas into the Pride Lands, didn't you see them?"
"I thought…it can't…" she rambled, the pressure on my esophagus easing as she pulled back and stared at the horizon with mixed emotion. I panted to regain my breath as her babbling continued; sometimes in short quips of disbelief, other times mutterings about what she was to do now. Mheetu had wriggled closer, curious as to why I was laying on the ground with him.
"I'm ok," I whispered, even though I know he too young to understand. A happy squeak escaped from his mouth, and the little sound made me laugh.
"You!" my mother hissed suddenly, twisting around and glaring down. Out of habit I shrank back, eyes half closed in expectation of a blow. "You're of no use to me now, utterly no use!" Her voice was almost a scream, tempered with hot fury. Snarling she took the step forward and raised her paw high. "Useless piece of trash!"
A yelp that wasn't mine split the air, and my eyes opened in horror to see Mheetu careening into the air. My little brother smashed into the boulder I had perched on just minutes before, flopping around limply before he thudded to the ground. He cried piteously from the dusty ground, front paw wrenched at an impossible angle and red already seeping into his light colored pelt.
"All that time I spent trying to get a son," my mother hissed furiously, glaring at the crying bundle of fur. "Wasted!"
For some reason as I sat there, dumbstruck, I remembered Sarabi standing over me protectively as the hyenas circled round on Scars' coronation night. The comfort of her warm breathe when I awoke from nightmares of Simba dying and calling out for help. She had protected and comforted me. If she could do that for me, for no reason other than I was the friend of her son, why shouldn't I do the same for another related by blood?
"Useless piece of dung," my mother growled, advancing on my brother again.
There was no thought process involved; I merely reacted to her movement. My paws flew forward of their own accord, pulling my body forward in a sprint that led to a skidding halt before my whimpering baby brother.
"Mommy stop!" I pleaded, hoping the more endearing term of mommy rather than mother would strike harder in her ears.
"Move," she snarled, yanking painfully on my tail and dragging me out of the way. Expertly she pinned me down to the ground with a hind paw while turning her attention back to the bundle of fur slowly leaking dark blood onto the earth.
"No! He didn't do anything!" I cried, clawing desperately at the dirt and trying to pull myself forward. "Stop it!" However, no matter how much spirit and backbone I had gained recently I was still just a cub, struggling against the strength of a full-grown lioness.
"Insignificant trash…useless refuse…worthless debris…" my mother let off a string of what for her were obscenities. She had always believed that a tongue that loosed curses had less power when it came to the art of persuasion. With each nuance she yanked on my brothers' dislodged paw, making him cry out in pain as he was dragged across the rocky earth. With a desperate effort I wriggled out from under her paw, dashing forward between her and my little brother.
"Out of the way!" she growled, socking me in the jaw with a heavy paw that made me see stars. Woozy I sank to the ground, half on top of Mheetu in a last, semi-conscious effort to protect him.
"All this time, wasted!" my mother growled, looking down in disgust at the two of us. "After everything I did, you two are useless!" she roared in fury, swiping dirt in my face. Coughing and sputtering I rubbed the grit from my eyes, expecting a blow at any time. "Not even worth killing," I thought I heard her whisper, and by the time my vision was clear there was only silence—and the tip of my mothers' tail vanishing into the long grass.
For a moment I wondered how she would explain all this to the pride, what lie she would concoct to have them welcome her back.
Then I realized that I didn't care.
My mother didn't return that night—or ever again.
I spent the rest of the night curled up alongside my baby brother, unable to do anything but be beside him as his breathing became more labored and the mix of blood and dirt around him grew bigger. Just as the moon cleared the horizon he closed his amber eyes, drew a rattling breath, and ceased to move.
I didn't cry.
Instead I curled tighter around him, resting my head on his shoulders. "I'll be here when you wake up, then we can go and play," I promised. "Good night Mheetu." I drifted off to sleep, dreaming about him and I playing on the golden savannah. His toddling steps as he chased after me, and the sun reflecting off our pelts in gold rays that seemed dim compared to the brightness of our smiles.
