A/N: Welcome to Chapter 10, my dear readers! 57 reviews…dear me, you guys, have I said how much I love you?
After so much sorrow and devastation in the pride, I guess now would be the perfect time to take a break for a while and let the characters catch their breath, and hopefully you too. Read on for some comfort and lighter moments than what was in the previous few chapters.
Proofreading credits go to yeti1995.
Disney owns The Lion King and cast, I own my OCs.
Kovu stayed awake through the first hours of the moon after the ceremony.
Things had never been the same since his best friend was gone. The night was so much colder. He didn't even get to say goodnight to his friend one last time today. Thinking about this made Kovu's small heart feel like it was being ripped painfully into two, and his tears slid down his face quietly as he lay beside his siblings and his mother. What was it that Kiara had last said to him?
Don't miss me.
There wasn't even a Kiara there for him to miss anymore.
The thought was heart wrenching. It was just an innocent goodbye…how was he supposed to know that it was a goodbye for forever? Maybe, just maybe, there was a small chance that his friend was alive, and maybe tomorrow she'd come back and play and talk with him once again. Maybe he would stop calling her 'Princess Clumsy' if it pleased her. He would do whatever it was that made his best friend happy.
He would do anything that would make her come back.
Kovu nearly let out a sob but he bit his lip. He couldn't just wake his siblings up just because he cried too loudly – or worse, he did not dare to wake Zira for fear of her scolding. Shoulders quivering, he stood up gingerly and crept his way out the den and towards the promontory of Pride Rock, carefully avoiding the paws and tails and snouts of the sleeping lions. He had to spend some time alone – or get some air, as the adults called it. The avoiding of the sleeping forms of the lions suddenly brought a memory up into his head, one of him and his best friend sneaking out of the cave so that they could run off to play before any of the adults found them. It seemed like just yesterday that she was here, and today, there was nothing left except for her scent. It was made even worse, and confusing, because the lionesses that he went to for seeking comfort in were crying and they were not of much help.
He hopped over the paws of another lioness that lay at the den entrance, and out into the open air – and for a split second he thought he saw a ghost sitting on the tip of the promontory. The figure was of a lioness, and it was so hauntingly quiet against the dark curtain of stars that Kovu took a few seconds to register that that was Queen Nala. He nearly opened his mouth and called out to her, but he realized that that may wake up the lionesses that were just behind him, so he padded quietly up to her instead.
"Nala?" He asked. The Queen was staring down at the ground, silent tears falling to the ground. She did not even lift her eyes to respond to him, nor did she make any move that indicated she felt his presence. This was worse than the other lionesses, Kovu thought. He thought for a moment on what to say to Nala, but decided against it. She was not going to react to anything – she hadn't reacted to anything for the whole of the evening. Even when the concerned members of the pride came up to persuade her to get some rest in the den, she did not react or move an inch. She only sat there, switching between staring into space and crying her heart out.
Each of her thoughts came like a stab to her heart. Her mate, the King of the pride, the love of her life. Did he not promise that he would be with her forever? He was so healthy and alive this morning. He was gone.
Her daughter, the young Princess, the joy of her life, born of her own flesh and blood. The hardest thing was not seeing her one last time. She made a promise as a mother that she would protect Kiara with her life if she had to. But she had failed. She was gone. Nala could not even find her daughter to bury. I'm so sorry, Kiara, I'm so sorry, she thought.
She had never felt more broken.
"Nala…" Kovu couldn't stand to see the mother of his best friend like this. She was one of the adults that he respected the most and looked up to, as an excellent huntress and especially a caring figure. There had to be some way to help her, he thought. Gently leaning onto her foreleg, he gave it a gentle nuzzle, like how a cub would greet its mother.
"Don't cry…" Kovu sniffed.
This time, Nala lifted her head slightly to look at the small cub that was hugging her foreleg. Without speaking a word, she leant over him, pulling him close against her chest. Hugging him like how she would hug Kiara if she were still there. Both cub and lioness cried together for a while, letting off everything that was sealed in their hearts moments before. It felt slightly better, if not good. They still had each other, and even if they were not related by blood, Nala saw Kovu as the son she never had.
"Nala?" Kovu lifted his chin to look at her, his eyes still wet with tears.
"Yes, Kovu?" Nala finally spoke her first words since the discovery of her mate at the Gorge. She was talking! He could have smiled if his mind wasn't so sad from what happened.
"I miss Kiara very much…" The way he spoke it, direct and full of childish innocence, was nearly unbearable for Nala, who nearly broke down again. But the warm feeling of Kovu between her paws brought her back to herself. Here was a cub that had lost almost as much as she did in less than a day.
"I miss her very much too, Kovu," she said, more tears spilling. "I miss Kiara and Simba very, very much…"
Kovu snuggled in closer to her, feeling the motherly warmth of her fur. "Don't cry…"
"You too," Nala pressed her forehead to Kovu's. "You're a big cub. Don't cry."
"I will try not to cry if you try too," he said, with the all the seriousness of a lion. Nala licked him on his forehead. This cub was a comfort to her, a float that she could cling on to in her sea of despair. She knew she had to do the same and comfort him.
"Do you remember the stories that they tell about the stars, Kovu?" She asked. The Queen was very slowly, but surely and gradually coming back to herself as she talked to Kovu. The cub shook his head.
"The stars represent the spirits that I've once taught you about. When they leave the land, their spirits go up there…and there, is the same place where the Great Kings" - her voice cracked slightly at the word Kings – "of the Past are. Watching over us."
"Sir Simba is up there? Looking at us?" Kovu looked to the sky, searching for Simba's star.
A single tear rolled down Nala's cheek as she nodded, too emotional to speak.
"What about Kiara? Is she doing the same?"
Nala was crying again, and did not respond to him. Kovu leaned close to her. "You said you'll try not to cry…"
Nala picked herself up again, and nodded. "I'm sorry Kovu, I'm trying…"
"Nala look," Kovu pointed up to two of the brightest stars in the night sky, a larger one side by side with a smaller one. "I think that's Sir Simba and Kiara next to each other. I chose the brightest ones for them and I know they'll like it."
"Thank you, Kovu," Nala whispered, pulling him close to her once more, choking back a sob. "Thank you very much…"
In the desert sands, a migrating herd of one male and five female African elephants made their way through the scorching landscape, led by their towering, wise Matriarch.
She was the biggest, wisest and oldest of the elephants in the herd, her tusks of ivory strong, and her hide as tough as tree bark. She was travelling across this terrain, leading her herd in search of water. Their previous home was experiencing a drought and the elephants knew they could not stay for any longer. By the Matriarch's side walked her son, Tembu, who was still quite young, at the age where he could intelligently comprehend and understand many things around him, yet he was not to be considered a teenager yet. He was the only male in the group, a calf young enough to still travel in a herd with his mother.
"I'm tired, Mother," Tembu spoke, his ears fanning himself. They were not as huge as his mother's yet though, and he could not cool himself down like she did so easily. They had been travelling for many hours under harsh conditions, and it could be taxing on a young elephant like him.
"Come into my shade, son," she replied, her alto voice mellow and motherly. Carefully allowing her son to walk near her tree trunk-like legs and wall-like body, she sheltered him from the desert sun.
"How long before we get there, Komali?" One of the other elephants spoke up, not impatiently, but curious.
"I am not sure yet, Jati, but I know it. Our ancestors have travelled this path before," she reassured, "and I know it is the right way." The rest of the elephants sounded their agreements. Komali was indeed wise, and from experience she knew that this was the right way to go. But she also knew that her small herd must have been exhausted, and there had to be some way to lift their spirits in this tough time.
In a slow, repetitive rhythm, she brought her feet down to the ground, stomping a beat and sending up small dust clouds and a soft thoom every time one of her feet came into contact with sand. From the back of her throat, she hummed the beginnings of a deep and vibrating tune, singing of the travels across the desert. It was a song passed down along generations of elephants, written into memory. One by one, the herd joined in, lending their rhythm and harmonising their voices to the ancient tune once sung by their ancestors.
"I sing this song of trav'ls old
Across the sands of desert gold
To th' land of plenty where water holds
As ancient tradition once foretold."
Tembu listened on in wonder at the singing voices and pounding rhythms of the adults, an old melody that captivated him. His voice could not go low enough to join in the song, but he listened and learned, his head swaying gently. As he got lost in the tune and his own thoughts, something at the corner of his eye caught his attention. It was something in the desert that did not seem to fit in with the dunes of sand – a rock, yet it looked very soft and hairy. Not wanting to interrupt the tune that was music to his ears, Tembu stepped out of his mother's shade and moved towards the object of interest.
"Tembu?" Komali stopped her singing to catch up with her son.
"Mother, look at this rock," he gently prodded it with his little trunk, "it breathes." His eyes opened with wonder.
Komali tilted her head and adeptly flipped it over with her own trunk. What she saw was a young lioness cub – and she was still breathing - but only shallowly.
"What is a young cub like this doing out in the desert?" she wondered aloud. The four other members of the herd had dropped the tune and caught up, looking at the cub in surprise.
"We have to get her water – and fast," Komali decided, gently rolling her trunk into the shape of a 'J' towards her mouth to pick up the unconscious cub.
"Komali, we would get nothing out of helping her," the youngest of the female elephants spoke up. "If you carry her, you may slow us down."
"Kindness may not always be repaid, but we are free to choose our own actions, Intan." The Matriarch replied gently. "Come. We must move with haste to where water holds."
The land where water was held was in fact not far off, less than a day's walk in fact, and at the edge of the desert were the beginnings of a lush, beautiful African rainforest. The elephants sped up their pace, nearly moving at a running pace against the whipping desert winds that threatened to cut any skin or hide that was softer than that of theirs. And what a relief, when they saw the first signs of green in a land of gold.
"Mother, we're here!" Tembu trumpeted, excited that their journey was fruitful indeed.
"You indeed are wise, Komali." Jati spoke up, proud of her Matriarch's wisdom.
"It is not without the support of you all. We should get some water first – and save this dying cub." Komali really hoped that the young cub she held with her trunk could make it. It was already barely breathing, and the elephant hurried over to the green in the distance, her son Tembu running in tow.
At a small, murky pond near the edge of the jungle, two animals - or rather one animal that stood up with the other on its back - were standing at the edge of a small pool, looking into the murky water that stood stagnant. They were the strangest pair indeed – a beige-furred meerkat that was kneeling down on the back of a warthog.
"Uhh Timon," the warthog said, his voice rough but jovial sounding, "I don't think this is a good idea…"
"C'mon Pumbaa, water slugs are delicious and you know it!" The meerkat replied.
"Well I don't think those are water slugs," Pumbaa chimed in thoughtfully, "I think they're called leeches."
"No, they're water slugs."
"Leeches."
"Water slugs!"
"Leeches!"
"Who's the smart one?" Timon said arrogantly.
"Uhh…you are." The warthog answered.
"That's right Pumbaa, now we dip our hands in the water…and out jump the water slugs!"
Pumbaa crouched down, his huge snout nearly dipping into the water, with Timon reaching over, his hands near the surface of the murky water.
"On the count of three Pumbaa. One, two, thr-"
A long, grey worm like thing stretched over their heads from behind, its head diving into the water. Both the animals froze, their wide eyes focused on the thick, wrinkly, grey living thing that even had a few strands of hair sticking out between some of its folds on its body.
I never thought that water slugs could fly, thought Timon.
I told you this was a bad idea, thought Pumbaa.
The two of them turned upwards, following the rugged skin, and saw that two curved, white branches that looked too perfect to be on any tree were curving above their heads, each extending outwards into pointed tips. They led to even more wrinkly skin, and huge, fan-like ears made of the same tough hide that gently moved to the wind. All of it was colossal in comparison to the small, black-pupiled eyes that stared down at the awestruck pair from high above.
"What, in the world - ?" Timon's jaw hung, stunned by the size of this creature that towered over them. The legs were as strong looking as any tree trunk all around the jungle, and they stood firmly, holding the creature up.
Suddenly, loud sounds of branches being cracked down sounded behind the trio at the pond, and towards them thundered six of the creatures that resembled the huge one that had just reached into the waterhole with its seemingly hand-like limb.
The giant suddenly turned, ferocious that others had just intruded into his personal space in such a rude manner.
"WHO ENTERS?" He trumpeted loudly, nearly causing Timon and Pumbaa to fall backwards into the waterhole with the force of his bellowing voice.
At the front of the small herd, the Matriarch lifted her head threateningly, preparing for a fight if it came to one. This bull elephant that stood in front of them was humoungous, and if push came to shove, she would protect Tembu at all costs, never mind the cub on her trunk.
"We only request for a drink, one to save a life," Komali answered, her eyes fixed on the male.
The bull elephant responded with a deafening nasal call. Komali placed the cub down quickly, and answered with an ear-splitting trumpet of her own, her trunk lifting into the air.
Between Timon and Pumbaa, they gave a quick glance at each other, then to the cub that lay between them. It did not look like it was sleeping – in fact, it looked like it was dying.
"Take her away and give her water!" Komali commanded, her eyes never leaving that of the fierce bull in front of her.
"Is she talking to us Timon?" Pumbaa asked, his eyes wide with panic.
"Who else do you think she's talking to Pumbaa?!" Timon yelled.
Just then, the giants let out another couple of thundering battle cries to each other, making the pair jump up in shock, hairs on end.
"Take it take it take it!" Timon shouted, sliding backwards onto Pumbaa's back as the warthog tossed the cub onto his snout with a quick shoveling movement and fled the scene before all hell broke loose.
Sorry the ending was a little abrupt, I had to cut it because the original draft was staggering. Timon and Pumbaa are a challenge to write! Hope I did them justice…and I know some of you may hate Timon and Pumbaa but do bear with me.
Here's a fun fact – did you know where the names of the elephants Komali, Jati, and Intan come from? I was very inspired by the Asian elephants in the Singapore Zoo, and because their names had very nice rings to them, I chose them as the names of these African elephants. Komali in real life is indeed the oldest and largest of the female elephants, the Matriarch and the star attraction of the group.
I've always admired elephants for their behaviour as gentle giants and their ability to recognise and remember events and people. They always seem to know where to go, much like birds in migration, and are so intelligent I couldn't resist writing a song for them. Any composer interested enough could help me turn that into a tune – but till then it will stay a poem.
On a last note I hope you have enjoyed this chapter. Do leave me with your thoughts! Cheers!