A/N: And we're back!
Chapter 7-Kovu and Kiara
We mourned for a long time after Sarabi's death. For many of us, the old queen had guided us through Scar's reign. She had been our strength and our anchor through one of the darkest times in our lives.
We all lost something when Sarabi died. Some, like Simba and I, had lost a mother. Sarafina had lost her best friend. Kiara lost her grandmother. And the others had lost a bastion, a symbol of motherly love and, above all, a great queen. Her death was a hard price to pay to the Great Circle of Life.
Rafiki buried her during a somber ceremony. Even some of the animals of the Pridelands turned up to see the old queen laid to rest. As we watched, Rafiki chanted a prayer over her body, asking the Great Kings to see her well into the afterlife. He scattered crushed leaves from certain plants over her still form which silently lay in the grave we had dug. The leaves each represented something she had been during her life—medicinal herbs, for she had healed many hearts; fig leaves, for she had produced children and been a wonderful mother; and a bouquet of brightly colored flowers, in remembrance of her beauty and her royalty. Finally, he laid tall leaves of grass over her body, covering it completely, a sign that she would return to the ground and therefore continue the Circle of Life. Once the ritual had been completed, several of us replaced the dirt, burying her, leaving her to her final rest. I blinked back tears as I pushed the last of the earth in, trying to tell myself that she had returned to Mufasa, just like she wanted. She had gone to a better place.
Many of us visited her grave often in the days to come, and I still visit that site once in a while, just to pay her respect and to remember what she did for me. The third day after her death, I went again around sunset to visit her once more. However, I was surprised, as I neared her still-fresh grave, to find someone else already there.
As I approached, I found Kiara, sitting at her grandmother's final resting spot. Her cheeks were dry, so she had not been crying, but her red-brown eyes held a far-away look as she stared at the churned-up earth. It had not been long enough for grass to start to grow there again.
"Kiara?" I asked, gently, as I neared. She looked up quickly, startled. But when her eyes landed on me, she relaxed, even smiled a bit. She was pushing adolescence now, on the brink of leaving cubhood behind forever. Already her form had started to fill out, her body lengthening, her features maturing. She'd taken a few hunting lessons, though Simba's strict rules kept her mostly at home. But she was growing up faster than any of us could imagine.
Though, right now, she looked like a little cub again.
"Oh, Uncle Tojo, it's just you," she sighed, and looked back to her grandmother's grave. I sat beside her, my own eyes resting on the same.
"Are you alright?" I asked, softly. She shrugged.
"I guess," she whispered. "I just….I miss her so much."
I nodded, completely understanding.
"I know. So do I."
"You were really close to her, huh, Uncle Tojo?"
I nodded.
"She took care of me while Scar was king. My mother abandoned me not too long after your mother, myself, and some of our friends were attacked by hyenas."
"That's horrible! Was anyone hurt?"
I flinched in response to the question, wondering whether or not I should tell her about Mheetu. I bit my lip.
"Nothing too bad," I finally said, deciding to lie. I didn't know if Nala had even told Simba about her little brother, and I certainly didn't want to open old wounds by telling Kiara. Besides, she was still just a cub.
"Who were your friends?" she asked me. That was a slightly easier topic, though it hurt listing out the names of those whom I had lost over the years. Still at least none of them had died. As far as I knew.
"You've never met them," I told her. "There was Tama, and the twins, Chumvi and Kula. There was also Malka, though he wasn't there that time, because he lived in another pride."
"What happened to them?" she asked. "I mean, since they're not here anymore."
I took a breath.
"They've all gone," I told her. "They left the pride before you were born."
"Why?"
The wind ruffled my mane as I looked away from her, blowing memories back into my mind. I thought of Chumvi's words again.
Because of me, I thought, but I didn't say it.
"Tension, I guess," I said. "There were a lot of problems back then. We just sort of…split up."
We lapsed briefly into silence as Kiara pondered these things. I saw her look up at the stars in the sky, and for a moment, I could see her mother fully in her face, looking to the stars as Nala had done so often.
"That's so sad," she said. "that friends should split up like that."
"It happens sometimes," I said. "Sometimes…we just make bad decisions."
"Did any of them go with the Outlanders?"
Her question was so blunt that I blinked and looked up at her, feeling a little like a cub myself.
"What?" I asked, caught off-guard. She looked at me innocently.
"I just assumed," she said. "You said there was a lot of tension. I thought maybe they had gone with the Outlanders."
"What do you know about the Outlanders?" I asked, almost accusingly. Apparently, this wasn't a good question, or a good tone to ask it in. The young lioness suddenly scowled at the ground.
"Not much," she answered, bitterly. "'Cause my father won't tell me anything about them."
"There's not much you need to know, Kiara—they're bad. End of story."
To my surprise, though, she shook her head.
"I don't think they're all bad," she replied. "When I met that cub Kovu…he seemed really nice."
I frowned.
"You still think about him?" She hadn't talked about Kovu for a while. She looked sheepishly up at me.
"Sometimes," she admitted. "Don't tell my dad."
I faltered for a moment, but decided there was no harm to be had. I relaxed a little and smiled crookedly.
"Your secret's safe with me," I promised.
She smiled back.
"Why do we not like them, anyway?" Kiara returned to her previous line of thought. "Why did Dad exile them?"
"You know that your father exiled them?"
"Yeah. That's pretty much all I know, and I had to figure that out myself."
My frown deepened, as I struggled to decide how I should explain this to her. I still didn't think it was my place to tell her about Kopa, if Simba and Nala hadn't yet. Though I had some stomach-clenching feeling that Simba was holding out on her, that he wasn't going to tell until he had to. But did I have the right to go against his will? He was my king, and my friend. I couldn't betray his confidence, and tell his daughter something so personal, even if it involved the murder of her own brother, whom she may or may not know ever existed.
"They did something bad to us," I told her, eventually. "A long time ago."
"And we're still mad at them?"
"Yes," I replied. "It was very bad."
"What was it?"
I swallowed, but stayed silent. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw her frown sharply.
"You're not going to tell me, are you?" she asked. I looked away.
"I just….I don't think you're ready. Neither does your father."
She scowled at the ground again.
"No one takes me seriously," she growled, softly. "And nobody listens to me."
"That's not true," I told her, growing concerned. "Kiara, the pride loves you."
"But no one respects me," she argued. "Uncle Tojo, when I become queen, will they start listening to me?"
A moment passed as I gathered my thoughts. Kiara still struggled hard against her father's tight bonds. My heart went out to her, because I sympathized over this almost-bondage which her father had placed her under. But I also respected Simba's wishes, and understood why he felt he needed to protect her. He couldn't risk the life of his daughter. But Kiara needed some words of support. I hoped I could offer them.
"Kiara," I finally said. "It's not your role that will make others listen to you: it's what you say that will make others listen. Any lion can say things. But a true queen will make her words matter. Okay?"
She thought this over for a moment, her forehead creased with concentration. Finally, she looked up.
"I don't really understand," she said. "But I think I will someday, huh?"
I nodded in agreement, though I felt just as unsure as she did.
"I guess," I said. She nodded again, and stood.
"I should go home," she replied. "Daddy will be worried."
"I'll come back in a little while," I told her. She turned to look at the grave once more.
"Goodnight, Grandma," she said softly, then looked at me. "Goodnight, Uncle Tojo."
"Goodnight, Kiara," I replied. She smiled and turned. But just as she started to walk away, I called her name, and she paused and looked back.
"I don't know if this helps," I said to her. "But, if my opinion counts for anything…I think you'll be a great queen someday."
"As good as Grandma?" she asked, hopefully. I nodded.
"I'm sure of it."
She gave a grin that rivaled the moon and the stars for brightness, and she turned from me again to set off back to home. I watched her go for a while, before turning back to Sarabi's grave.
"Keep an eye on her, would you?" I asked the old queen. "There's something in store for her."
As if in answer, a wind swept up, whipping my mane around. I sighed, a little. I still didn't know where my own beliefs lay, but I certainly knew that Kiara was in the paws of the Great Kings now.
That cub grew like a little weed. One minute, she was teething on her daddy's tail, the next Simba and Nala were discussing what would be her first hunt. Time had flown by so quickly.
In the Pridelands, we have a tradition that young females, once they hit a certain age, get to take their first hunt. They do the hunt solo—they have no help, no pride to back them up or bring down prey for them. The point is for the lioness to prove herself worthy of her position amongst the other huntresses, and as a sort of "coming-of-age" into the pride. Nala and the other females who had come of age during Scar's reign hadn't had the luxury of partaking in the tradition, since Scar had required all lionesses to hunt as soon as they were old enough to keep up with the hunting party—no "coming-of-age" tradition necessary. Kiara wouldn't be the first to renew the tradition, as one or two other lionesses had come of age recently, but she would be the first member of the royal family to participate since Scar's reign of disaster.
She was more than ready to go, too, despite her potentially less-than-encouraging hunting skills. But despite her enthusiasm, her father continually balked at the idea.
"Simba, it's tradition," I heard Nala say to him as they spoke together outside the den. Neither of them knew I was eavesdropping, standing just inside the mouth of the cave and straining my ears to hear them. "I didn't get the chance. Let her, at least, have it."
Simba frowned, and glanced away from his mate.
"But there's so much that could go wrong," Simba said. "She won't be in our sight."
"I know you're worried," Nala replied, rubbing up against his shoulder. "And I understand your fear. But we have to let Kiara live her own life. We can't keep her trapped forever. Let her go."
The king let out a long breath, and looked back at Nala, his worried eyes gentling as he looked at her. He smiled a bit and rubbed his forehead against hers.
"I know," he murmured, softly. "I'm just scared. For her…For us."
"You once told me that you have to put the past behind you," her blue eyes stared up into his, two gentle pools of quiet wisdom and hope, and love for Simba. I fought down jealousy, knowing those eyes would never look at me like that. "You need to do it now. For Kiara's sake."
She licked the top of his nose, then pulled away. I drew back into the cave as she neared, trying to look natural. She didn't notice me. But as she moved inside, I looked back to Simba. He still sat in the same place, staring off into the distance, as if at some unknown future that he could barely see. I saw his mouth twitch downward, and just heard him whisper to himself, "I don't know if I can."
It seemed, though, that Nala talked him into it, and they announced Kiara's hunt to her and the pride a few days later. According to Simba, the ceremony would take place in three days' time. Kiara was overjoyed.
"Daddy, thank you!" she cheered after the announcement, rubbing her head against her father's mane. "A hunt, all on my own?"
"Of course," Nala purred in response, evidently proud of her daughter. Simba looked less sure, but he still assented to his daughter's question. I snorted gently in amusement. Simba would learn to relax. I knew he would.
Or maybe I didn't know him, and fate, as well as I thought.
The day before the ceremony was set to take place, I looked up to see Zazu circling above my head as I lounged on a warm rock near Pride Rock. As before at Kiara's presentation ceremony, he looked worried. I frowned at his demeanor, and raised my head.
"Zazu!"
The majordomo bird looked down and saw me. He circled once more before descending and landing on the branch of a dead tree nearby as I rose and approached.
"Have you seen Simba?" he asked me, looking slightly ruffled. I tilted my head to the side, concerned.
"Sure. He's at the waterhole, talking to some zebra, the last time I saw him," I answered. "Why?"
"I have important news for him!" was the bird's only answer before taking to wing and swooping towards the waterhole in the distance. Interest piqued, I followed at the trot, keeping the bird in my line of sight.
Simba had given the duty of patrolling to Zazu, allowing me to step down. This neither pleased nor disappointed me—Scar had forced the job onto me during his reign. I continued it into Simba's out of habit, and I rather liked searching the Pridelands at night for any danger. Still, Zazu could cover more ground than I could, since he had a "bird's eye view", as they call it. But once in a while I would patrol as well, just to be alone. I didn't envy the bird his role, though.
However, when Zazu said he had important news, it shouldn't be overlooked. And I was a perpetual eavesdropper. I wanted to hear this.
I'd only just seen Simba amongst a group of zebras. I believe they were discussing water rights, or something equally as mundane. But this zebra herd had a history of stuck-up behavior, and constantly got themselves into disagreements with other herds for silly reasons. Today it apparently revolved around a certain antelope herd's "water-hogging" behavior. Or something equally as ridiculous.
"I understand your unhappiness," Simba tried to tell the herd's leader, an arrogant stallion named Kero. "But the antelope herd—"
"I demand they be punished," Kero butted in, head held high, eyeing the "offensive" antelope herd nearby. They eyed him back just as severely. "It's absolutely insufferable the way they—"
"Sire!"
Zazu's voice cut the stallion off, who snorted and looked highly offended. Simba let out a longsuffering sigh. He'd apparently had it with the herd. I didn't blame him.
"What is it, Zazu?" he asked, as the bird landed in front of him. However, one glance at the majordomo's concerned face, and Simba's own expression turned from tired and exasperated to worried and intrigued. He repeated his question, sharper this time.
"Sire, I have important news that needs your immediate attention," Zazu answered.
"But-but—" Kero stuttered. "I was speaking to King Simba about important water-hole protocol."
"Kero," Simba said, firmly. "My majordomo has important information for me that can't wait. We'll have to continue this later so I can speak with him."
Kero opened his mouth to argue, but at Simba's look, his ears flicked back and he looked as though he was reconsidering. Finally, he snorted and tossed his head, turning to the rest of his herd.
"Come on, then!" he called, and led the others away. Simba gave a relieved sigh, and turned to look back at Zazu. But he grew immediately concerned again at the sight of the bird hopping from foot-to-foot anxiously.
"Sire, I was scanning the skies this morning," he said. "And I saw intruders, in the Pridelands!"
Simba's face creased in concern.
"Intruders? What species?" he asked quickly. Zazu swallowed hard.
"They were lions, Sire!"
"From where? Near what border?"
Zazu's eyes were so wide they looked as though they would pop out of his head.
"From the Outlands, Sire!"
Simba suddenly snarled and looked away.
"I was afraid of this," he growled, then his eyes snapped to me, a few feet away. I was momentarily worried he'd get mad at me for eavesdropping, but he had other things on this mind.
"Tojo," he commanded, hardly concerned why I was standing there. "Come with me. Zazu, take us to where you found them. We'll search for spies."
This reminded me exactly of Kiara's presentation, and I had a tight feeling in my stomach that the sighted spies would slip by us yet again. But I followed Simba anyways, ready to smoke out the intruders. And, just as I feared, the borders were quiet. Our intruders had once again gotten away.
Simba's mood was cloudy as we returned home.
"I shouldn't let Kiara hunt," he said to himself as we walked. "It's too dangerous."
"Simba," I argued back, trotting to keep up with him. His head was stretched out, almost parallel to the ground, and he moved quickly. His face looked thunderous. "You can't do this to her. You can't take away that privilege."
"I can if it means keeping her safe," he snapped back. But I shook my head and leaped forward, blocking his way. He stopped and glared at me. I stood firm.
"Simba, be reasonable," I told him, flatly. Once upon a time, Simba had been a good friend. I believed I could talk to him as though we still were, whether he was a king or not. "Kiara's too old for you to keep her fenced in. She's an adult now. You have to let her live for herself."
"She could get hurt."
"There's always that possibility," I agreed. "But she might not. Or you might find that she can take care of herself better than you give her credit for. She's a smart cu—lioness. Trust her. And let her do this."
Simba sighed, obviously still concerned.
"I'll talk it over with Nala," he said, stepping around me, and continuing his way towards Pride Rock. "We'll see."
I sighed, but followed him, hoping that he would make the right decision, for Kiara's sake.
But again, Nala saved the day. She must have talked him into it, and, right on schedule, Kiara prepared for her first solo hunt. The pride greeted her happily, and she set off, with surprisingly little resistance from Simba. Understandably excited, Kiara raced off away from Pride Rock, enjoying her new-found independence.
I wondered what Simba had up his sleeve.
It didn't take long to find out. Almost moments after she leaped off the rocks, Simba sent Timon and Pumbaa out to track her. The idea disappointed me, but then again, it couldn't be help. Simba wanted Kiara watched at all times. Zazu's sighting of Outlanders in the Pridelands had shaken him up—not enough to cancel the ceremony, but certainly enough to deploy his half-witted side-kicks. I could only imagine what good this would do.
The rest of the pride lazed about for most of the day, waiting for Kiara's return. But Simba paced Pride Rock constantly, his eye on the horizon, towards where Kiara had disappeared. He made me tired just watching him.
For a while, though, it seemed as though everything would be fine.
That didn't last.
Sometime around early evening, I found myself wandering aimlessly through the grasses surrounding Pride Rock, which jutted proudly into the sky, the always-majestic emblem of our kingdom. Yet, even from where I strolled, I could spot the form of Simba, pacing restlessly back and forth as he had done for much of the later part of the day. At first, he had seemed relaxed enough. But as the day wore on, and Kiara still hunted, he had grown increasingly agitated. I did have to admit she'd been gone a while.
I returned to my stroll, taking my mind off my king's anxiety. He'd learn to let Kiara go eventually. Maybe this would be like bleeding poison from the wound—painful, but he'd realize that his daughter was more than capable of taking care of herself. After all, Kiara had a certain fire…
Fire?
My head jerked up, and I sniffed the wind. The acrid smell of smoke burned my nostrils, and I sneezed heavily. I followed the scent to its origin, and felt my stomach drop as I saw a bright orange glow on the horizon—right where Kiara had gone to hunt.
Oh, no.
I turned and raced back to Pride Rock, my heart in my throat the entire time, my chest prickling with fear and dread. I couldn't believe this was happening. I couldn't imagine what Simba would do. If fire had broken out in Kiara's hunting grounds…it threatened more than just her life. It threatened the very mental state of our king.
Just as I neared our home, I saw most of my pride leap down from Pride Rock and race towards the fire in the distance. Simba was at their head, and I saw Nala among them. For a moment, I wondered if I should follow. But I eventually decided not to and returned to the rocks, taking up an anxious vigil, praying to anyone who might be listening that Kiara—and her father, for that matter—would return safe and sound.
In time, they did.
As the sun began to sink under the distant horizon, a line of lions appeared in the distance, making a long, weary trek across the plains, back to Pride Rock. As they grew closer, I could see them better. Simba was in the lead, as when they'd left. But who followed after him?
My eyes narrowed as they grew even closer. To my relief, I saw Kiara amongst them. She seemed unharmed, too. Nala and the rest of my pridesisters followed. But a new male, a dark-furred male, followed Simba now. Instinctively, my ears pressed against my head, and my fur prickled. Who was this new comer?
The party ascended Pride Rock, and I stood back to watch, my eyes narrowing as the new male passed by. The stars had just started to appear overhead, but a dark cloud had swept in, obscuring most of them. My pridesisters, including Nala, made their way into the cave. I followed, with one last glare to this unnamed newbie. The last I saw, Simba was apparently going to deal with him. I felt distrust stir inside me. I did not like the look of this new comer.
Inside, I sought out Nala.
"What happened?" I asked her. She looked tired as she rested on the floor.
"There was a fire. But Kiara is okay," the lionesses told me. "She was rescued."
"By him?" I demanded, my eyes flicking towards the cave's mouth. Nala nodded, just as Simba slipped in. He did not look happy, but the male did not follow. Apparently, Simba had barred him from sleeping in the den with the rest of us. I was not disappointed.
"Who is he?" I asked, as Simba neared. The king heard my question, his face like the threat of an oncoming storm.
"His name is Kovu," he answered for his mate. "He saved my daughter's life. For that, I have allowed him to stay here until I decide what to do with him."
The name made my heart skip a beat.
"Kovu?" I demanded. "But Simba, he's—"
"I know," the king replied as he lay down beside his mate. "Trust me, Tojo. I know."
I frowned and found my place amongst my pridesisters, my mind and my heart troubled. Simba called sharply for Kiara, who had not entered yet. I rested my head on my paws and watched as the princess finally appeared, unharmed and maybe even a little excited. This troubled me even further. I knew Kiara had thought of Kovu often after they had met, so long ago, as cubs. She was young and naïve. To her, Kovu was a long-lost friend, finally come back again. But what she didn't understand was that Kovu was the son of a ruthless murderer. And if I knew Zira, she'd raised Kovu to be a killer, too. After all, the apple doesn't fall far from the tree, and a rotten tree can't produce good fruit. Kiara didn't have her cubhood friend back—she had a soldier of Zira.
Despite mine and Simba's misgivings Kovu wasn't kicked out on his backside the next morning. In fact…he stuck around. I knew Simba was wary of him, though I didn't know if he knew anything about the young male's namesake. With that in mind, I was surprised how calm Nala seemed to be about his presence—I knew she hadn't forgotten what I'd told her about Kovu. As far as I was concerned, he was a ticking time bomb waiting for Zira to set him off. Yet, he remained in the pride. And I began to wonder—was I the only one who still cared?
My true concern, though, stemmed from Kiara's increasing attachment to him. I suppose it would have been inevitable—the dream cub she'd met as a child returned to her pride, now a young, handsome male she simply couldn't resist. The entire pride watched her fall for him. And I watched the son of Zira gain a new foothold on us, working his way amongst the Pridelanders. Oh, sure, he seemed all nice and good now—he'd even calmed down a bit since that night when he'd followed the rest of the pride home after Kiara's hunting accident. But I couldn't trust him more than I could throw him. As far as I was concerned, once a puppet of Zira, always a puppet of Zira.
"How can you let him hang around here?" I demanded of Nala one day, fed-up with Kovu's progression from untrusted outsider to celebrated friend. "He's Zira's son, Nala. You know that."
"Tojo, I think you misjudged him," Nala replied, her tone light. "You're just like Simba. Kovu's not what you think he is. I trust Kiara's judgement."
"I didn't say I didn't trust Kiara," I snapped back. "It's him I don't trust. Can't you see he'll turn on us at any instant?"
Nala frowned at me.
"He's not a rabid dog," she replied. "He's a part of our pride now."
"That's what's bothering me. Nala, I mean, come on, don't you remember anything of what I told you?"
"Look at him, Tojo," Nala pressed. "I admit, I had my misgivings at first. But he's genuinely attached to Kiara now. I believe there's something different about him. I think you should give him a chance."
"But Nala…." I stuttered, shocked at her view. "Have you forgotten what Zira did to you? About…about Kopa?"
I knew I'd hit a raw spot. Nala's eyes suddenly grew distant, and sad. She stared somewhere into the distance, over my shoulder. I knew I shouldn't have brought it up. Nala could never forget the death of her firstborn. The murder of her firstborn.
"I haven't forgotten," she replied, solemnly, distantly. "But Kovu wasn't a part of that, Tojo. Don't you see? We can't merely condemn him for the choices of his mother. He might not be her. But we have to give him a chance."
"I think his mother already used up that chance," I muttered darkly. Nala frowned and looked back at me, her eyes catching mine so I couldn't look away.
"Maybe so," she said. "But doesn't everyone deserve another chance?"
I couldn't answer her question, merely walked away. But her words weighed heavy on my heart. I still didn't trust this new male, but her talk of chances weighed me down. Every time I heard her in my mind, I couldn't help but see visions of Chumvi pop up. And not just because Kovu looked mysteriously like the lion I'd used to know (that fact hadn't eluded me), but because I couldn't get out of my head that maybe I'd failed to give him another chance, so long ago, when I'd accused him of having a part in Kopa's murder.
I didn't like these thoughts. I didn't want to have them. Chumvi was gone. Whether he deserved another chance or not, I might never have to wonder. I'd probably never see him again, anyways. I'd never get the chance.
Fortunately, my mind would be relieved of my worries about Chumvi, and be replaced by new worries—about Kovu.
The morning when Kovu and Simba had walked off together, apparently to "talk", was bright and sunny. But by mid-afternoon, dark clouds had begun to gather on the distant horizon. Storm clouds for sure.
And then Simba returned to Pride Rock, unconscious, slung across the back of Pumbaa, with an anxious Timon and Kiara looking on.
Nala saw them first—she'd been lounging amongst the rest of us, when her head shot up and she gasped. I raised my head and watched her run off, and my gaze followed her until I saw the limp Simba being dragged back home. The others in the pride had seen the same, and a general cry of alarm was raised. I and several others ran up to greet the fallen king. He was a bloody, dirty mess.
"Kiara, what happened?" Nala demanded of her daughter after she checked to make sure Simba at least still breathed. My initial fears faded when I saw her relax slightly—Simba was still alive.
"I don't know," Kiara stuttered, completely shaken. "He said something about Kovu and an ambush, then collapsed!"
"I knew it," I muttered under my breath, not meaning it to be heard. But Nala eyed me before turning back to her daughter and downed mate.
"Let's get him back to Pride Rock," she urged. "I'll send someone to find Rafiki."
"Let me take him," I offered to Pumbaa, before taking the king's body onto my own back. The warthog seemed relieved. He may be a close friend, but Simba was a heavy burden, even for me, to bear. Together, we worked our way back home.
Nala sent a lioness to search for Rafiki, but the female came back saying she couldn't find him. By the time Simba awoke, the sun was just brushing the horizon, painting the sky in strips of orange and pink— hot colors which seemed to reflect the rising heat of the pride, and all the Pridelands, for that matter. News must have traveled that the king was injured. I think most of the animals now surrounded Pride Rock, anxiously waiting for news about Simba's health.
"Simba, are you alright?" Nala asked, nudging him gently. The king's eyes flicked open. The pride stood around, absolutely silent, all holding our collective breaths.
He groaned as he struggled to lift his head, but nodded.
"Yeah," he managed to grunt, obviously pained. Nala frowned.
"What happened?" I asked, taking a step forward, anxiously staring at him. Simba's pained gaze hardened as he glared into the distance.
"It was Kovu," he replied, his voice a deep growl. "He and Zira…they planned an ambush."
"No," Kiara breathed. "No, not Kovu…"
I bared my teeth.
"I knew it."
"Simba, are you sure?" Nala urged. Simba suddenly grunted and laid his head down on his paws again.
"I'm sure," he muttered. Nala looked worriedly around.
"Someone look for Rafiki again," she urged.
"I'll go," I offered, and Nala nodded, her face tight with worry.
"Please hurry."
Without another word, I turned and took off down Pride Rock, leaving my pride, and my fallen king, behind. The last thing I heard was Kiara claiming that it couldn't be true. I left quickly, and didn't hear anything more after that, not even the return of Kovu whom I was later informed appeared after my departure. It was probably a good thing I hadn't stuck around—if my behavior towards those I didn't trust after Kopa's death still held true for me, I wouldn't have backed down from a fight with Kovu, either. Though from what I heard, the residents of the Pridelands certainly gave him enough grief without me. Now I feel bad, of course. But back then…well, I wished I had been a part of it.
The sky had grown dark by the time I found Rafiki, far from his baobab and apparently observing the events which had taken place at Pride Rock. As I neared, panting and out-of-breath, I noticed his face was grave. I opened my mouth to speak, but he spoke first.
"Tojo," he said, emotionless. "I've been expecting you."
"You have?" I asked. I hadn't even realized he saw me come up behind him.
"Simba is hurt, is he not?" the shaman questioned. I nodded.
"Yeah, how did you know?"
"I have seen it all," he replied, voice now tinged with sadness. I scowled at my paws.
"Kovu's horrible, isn't he?" I asked, a rhetorical question, I suppose. "To plan all that out with Zira. I knew that—"
"How do you know it was Kovu?" Rafiki cut in, turning around now to face me. Thunder rumbled from the storm creeping ever closer to the Pridelands. I shifted anxiously, hoping he'd hurry up. Simba needed him, and this storm was going to be a big one.
"Well, I heard Simba say it," I replied. "And—"
"And you always believed that Kovu was exactly de same as his modder," Rafiki answered for me. "In your mind, you made Kovu into a killer and a murderer, and so it only makes sense dat he would do dis."
I frowned, annoyed by his words. I tried to tell myself that they didn't make sense and he was wasting time, but deep down I knew that what he said had an impact that I didn't want to feel. I shifted again.
"Stop lecturing me, Rafiki," I said, maybe a little harsher than I meant. "Simba's hurt!"
"Simba will be okay," Rafiki told me. "His fadder is looking over him. Tojo," at this, he rested a hand on my shoulder. "I told you someting when you were younger. Now listen to me: if you continue to put dose around you in a box, you will only close yourself out to deir love and friendship. Sometimes dose around us are more den dey appear."
"You sound like Nala," I found myself replying, though I shook my head and looked back at him. "Rafiki, please. No matter what you say, Simba needs you. Please come."
"Okay, young one," the old monkey sighed. "But I hope you have listened. And I hope you will learn."
I crouched down to let him climb on my back, and then we were off, racing across the Pridelands. By the time we returned, I could tell that things had gone from bad to worse. Kovu's "ambush" had set into play a series of events, and tides had already started to turn. What tides they were, only the Great Kings knew.
Simba was up and walking now, I was surprised to see. I could see him conversing with the lionesses, all of whom stood in a tight group at the base of Pride Rock. I approached, pulling the king's attention away from the others, who, to my surprise, looked exceedingly worried. I frowned.
"Simba, I brought Rafiki for you," I said. The king nodded, his red-brown eyes serious and deep, as though he was considering many things.
"Thank you, Tojo, but I don't need to be looked after," he replied. "We're going to war."
My heart fluttered a little inside my chest, and I felt adrenaline suddenly take hold of my lungs, tightening them.
"What?" I managed to hiss.
"Zira and the Outlanders are crossing the border. They're coming for a battle."
"B-but…" I stuttered, but Simba wasn't listening to me anymore. He looked at Rafiki.
"Stay here, Rafiki," he told the shaman. "We may need you before this night is over, though I hope my father will protect us."
"The Great Kings will do as dey will," the wise monkey replied. "But I hope dat my services are not needed."
"So do I," Simba replied, then he turned back to his pridemembers. "Let's move out."
Taking the lead, Simba moved swiftly away from Pride Rock. The lionesses, and myself, fell in behind him.
"We'll meet them head-on," Simba called back to us. "I don't need to tell you to fight hard. We have to keep them away from Pride Rock and the rest of the Pridelands."
A steady rain had begun to fall, dripping off our bodies and soaking the ground. For a while, I wondered where Simba was leading us, but I came to realize eventually where we were heading—the Dead River Gorge, near the dam this particular river had created during Simba's early reign. The same river where hyenas had almost picked us off as cubs while we searched for the Twin Rocks. Now I'd be facing death here again. But this time I didn't have Sarabi and the lionesses to protect me. This time I'd be fighting, too.
My observational skills slowly came out to play as we lined up to face off with our oncoming enemy. Someone was missing from among our ranks.
Nala stood near me, and I glanced at her.
"Where's Kiara?" I hissed, as though afraid to break some strange, almost reverent silence. The breath before the plunge.
She glanced back at me, and shook her head.
"She's gone," she replied. "She ran away."
My eyes widened in response to the news, but I didn't have time to truly react, or even question her further.
Zira had arrived.
When Simba had exiled Zira, what seemed like an eternity ago, we'd sent her to the Outlands with barely a handful of other members—Tama and Chumvi, Vitani, Nuka, and, of course, baby Kovu. But the pride I saw before me numbered at least twice as many members as that tiny band which had vanished from our borders so long ago. And, I noticed immediately, no males stood amongst them. Only females stood with Zira now. But Nuka, and Chumvi, were both totally absent.
I felt my throat tighten a little. Where had they gone?
"Attack!"
Zira's cry jarred me out of my shock. Simba roared a response, and suddenly both lines were moving forward, increasing speed until we raced towards each other across a rain-slicked ground. I was swept along into the fray, where I fought alongside my pridesisters, swiping and lunging at lionesses I didn't recognize while trying to understand what had happened to those whom I had once known.
I don't know how long we fought. I pulled a nearby female off a pridesister, and we rolled on top of each other until I'd managed to pin her down. Eyes narrowed, I squinted through the rain at the face of the one I'd captured. She stared hatefully back at me, her blue eyes flashing.
Blue eyes…?
"Vitani?" I asked, startled. She snarled in response, then slashed her claws across my shoulder. I stumbled back, and she slammed into me, hard, knocking the breath out of me. I landed heavily on my side, and she ran off to find a new victim. I staggered to my feet, still a little stunned. If that had been Vitani…where was Tama? And where was Chumvi?
Heck, where were all the lions I knew?
What had happened to my…friends?
But the battlefield is a poor place to reminisce, and I still had a part to play in this fight. I continued loyally on, a blind slave, slashing and biting in a battle I'd been tossed into, fighting lionesses I didn't even know. At some point, the fighting broke as Zira and Simba finally met face-to-face. Everyone else stopped, eager to see this face-off between mortal enemies.
Yet, as others around me gawked at the two leaders now circling each other, now ready to attack, my eyes scanned the unknown Outlanders around me. And what I had noted earlier still remained true—Chumvi and Nuka did not add their numbers to our enemy pride. For that matter, neither did Tama. In fact, the only one I recognized beside Zira was Vitani. Where had everyone else gone? What had happened in this pride?
A flash of lightning lit the sky, and I glanced back to find that Kovu and Kiara had returned, and stood resolutely between their fighting parents. Kovu sported a scar on his eye now, making him appear shockingly similar to Zira's past mate.
But my interests were pulled elsewhere. Despite the intensity of this battle, despite the future of both prides lying currently in the balance, I could not keep my mind on the current fight. I needed my own questions answered. And I needed them answered now.
I slipped away from the others, from the ring that had formed around Zira, Simba, and now Kovu and Kiara, who stood resolutely between the two leaders. If I had had any interest in the events around me, it would have surprised me to find Kovu standing up for both Simba and Kiara, in the face of his mother, blatantly defying her. But, my attention, my thoughts, roamed beyond this battle, beyond this bit of history currently playing out before my eyes, this climax in someone else's story.
"Daddy, this has to stop."
Kiara's words hardly made an impact on me, as I crept towards an Outlander lioness who stood a few steps back from the others in the ring. She seemed as focused on the current situation as everyone else, but I hoped I'd be able to pull her away. And I hoped that she wouldn't be more inclined to tear me to pieces than give up some information.
"Hey," I whispered, keeping my voice low, though it still seemed to resonate through the hush which had fallen over both prides. I could feel the anticipation in the rainy air around me—as thick as elephant dung and as brittle as dry grass. It felt as if anything could have broken that quiet. I tried to make sure I didn't.
For a minute, the lioness didn't seem to notice me, as she stared at the foursome in the middle. I finally grew aware of Kovu's defense of Kiara and Simba in front of his mother. This change of my view of Kovu would have seemed more intense if I hadn't had more on my mind.
"Hey," I hissed again. Finally, she seemed to hear me, and her head snapped to the side. As her eyes—reddish-brown, with a ring of dots under her left one—landed on me, I saw her tense, like she feared I would fight her. I shook my head.
"I don't want to fight," I told her. Her eyes narrowed, and she seemed annoyed that I'd pulled her away from this intense scene. I'd be annoyed, too, if I was her—this seemed like something ground-breaking, life-changing, history in the making. However, I wasn't her. I was me, and I wanted answers.
"What do you want?" she hissed back, her voice rough.
"Look, I have a question," I said, glancing sideways. I had no clue what was happening. I think Simba had told Kiara to stand aside and she refused. Distracted, I looked back to the female.
"In your pride….do you know a lioness that looks like Vitani? You know, hair tuft and stuff, but without the blue eyes, and a dark male, kind of big and tough? Names Tama and Chumvi?"
The lioness looked confused for a minute.
"What?" she asked, frowning deeply. "I don't—Hush, something's happening."
She looked away from me, eyes riveted on Kiara. Annoyed at the break in conversation, but my own curiosity slightly kindled, I looked towards my king and his daughter, the lioness I'd known since her cubhood.
And as I watched, that little princess whom I'd feared for at her birth, whom I'd cubsat when she'd grown older, whom I'd comforted after her grandmother's death, and whom I'd watched grow from sickly weak cub after her brother's death to a young lioness struggling to live under her father's tight leash, would suddenly grow again.
As I watched, she turned red-brown eyes onto her father, filled with love for him, and a sudden, deep wisdom and compassion that seemed to defy her age. Then she spoke.
"A wise lion once told me, 'We are one'," she said. "I didn't understand him then. Now, I do."
Simba's face turned confused, as his gaze snapped towards the Outlanders which had formed a ring around the four main players in this fight, in this epic battle that I'd hardly taken part in. This epic battle that I'd been momentarily swept up in for no reason I could comprehend, and that held more questions than answers for me.
"But they—" he tried to argue, until Kiara cut him off.
"Them? Us. Look at them, they are us. What differences do you see?"
Around me, a strange light seemed to shine down on the prides, illuminating the minds of those who had for so long been clouded. Even the clouds above us broke, the rain easing, and early morning sun shining through—we had fought through the night. And now, Kiara's words led us into a new day.
Kiara suddenly was no longer the princess who couldn't take care of herself and who had once, during her first hunt, left the Pridelands and put herself in unnecessary danger just for the sake of defying her father. She wasn't a princess any longer—she was a Future Queen.
Even amongst my mental unrest, my worry about why I couldn't find Chumvi, Tama, and Nuka in this Outlander pride, she deeply touched my distracted, troubled heart. Once upon a time, Kiara had asked me if becoming queen would make others listen to her. I'd responded by telling her that it wasn't her position, but what she said, that would get her heard. For me, that statement had sounded pretty deep. It made my heart swell to think that maybe my words had had an impact, that maybe, just maybe, I'd been able to influence a life, and for the better this time. Maybe I'd finally left a good impact, instead of just turning others away from me.
I bit my lip and looked down, suddenly even more troubled. My heart burned with old, gnawing guilt.
"What did you want?" the lioness's voice suddenly snapped me from my reverie, and I turned to look back at her, slightly startled.
"Oh, uh," I stuttered, my train of thought suddenly faltering. "I, uh, yeah. Tama, and Chumvi. Vitani's parents. Where are they?"
The lioness's eyes grew confused again. Beyond us, the aforementioned Vitani had joined her brother along with Kiara and Simba, defying her mother. I saw the lioness's eyes flick towards her before looking back at me.
"Vitani's parents? Vitani's mom is Zira. Everyone knows that. I've never known a 'Tama' or a 'Chumvi', though I think Zira had some lioness and her mate killed, but that was a long time ago."
The information seemed irrelevant to her, and she moved past me as the rest of her pridesisters abandoned Zira to join Vitani with Simba. Shocked, Zira watched her own pride evaporate before her eyes.
And I felt my world crumble beneath my paws. For once, I almost empathized with Zira.
My mind had gone utterly blank. There could be a chance that the individuals mentioned by this lioness weren't Tama and Chumvi, that they'd been some other pair that Zira'd gotten rid of. But if that was true, why would the Outlanders think Zira was Vitani's mother? Why would Tama and Chumvi be absent from the pride?
Could they be dead?
It couldn't be true. My head reeled, unable to process the information that churned inside, shaking me to the core. Suddenly, it didn't matter if the sky above me had cleared—a storm now raged inside my chest, guilt shredding my heart to ribbons, my stomach flip-flopping, twisting itself into knots. I couldn't help but recall that day, Kopa dangling from Nala's jaws, a broken Simba screaming at a sickly triumphant Zira, and me, accusing Chumvi, the lion who had once been a great cubhood friend, of murder. I couldn't help but see his furious brown eyes, boring into mine, betrayed and filled with hate, accusing me of turning on him again. And I could see Tama, hurt filling her once-loving amber eyes, as she claimed she could never live anywhere her love was not. I'd betrayed both of them. And now, because of that, I'd gotten them killed.
"Zira, it's over," I heard Simba say. His words seemed far away, though. Waves on a distant shore. "It's time to put the past behind us."
But Zira couldn't forget. She couldn't move on.
…There was too much for me to move on from.
"I'll never let it go!" she screamed. Rage filling her eyes, she leaped forward, aimed directly at Simba, ready to give him the last, fatal blow….
I wasn't a murderer, was I? It couldn't be my fault…..
But Kiara got in her way, taking the brunt of the impact. As the two prides watched in astonishment, the Pridelander and the murderer careened over the edge of the ravine.
I felt like some part of me went over, too, my world thrown into the raging river that churned below.