CHAPTER EIGHT: THE SETTING SUN
Simba...
A faint voice called out. Simba couldn't make out whose voice he was hearing. It was one singular voice, but it somehow sounded like so many voices at the same time.
Thoughts that flew through his head were like thick clouds, moving fast, chased by the wind. So many things were appearing, but out of focus and moving way too quickly to make out by the time they go away. Thousand voices were calling out at once, all combined in one voice that felt like it dragged him on two separate sides. In a way, like it was giving him a choice.
Simba, however, didn't think he had a choice.
Even when he felt the front part of his back paws being gently stroked by the humid grass, leaving tiny drops on his dirty fur.
Even when he felt someone's back he was lying on.
Even when he heard the voices chatter. When he recognized the voices of Kiara, Kovu, Nala, Timon and Pumbaa. He only thought about how relieved he was that they were alright. They were safe. And whatever his own fate turned out to be, he would accept it.
Simba...
The voice came back. But it wasn't the same this time around. This time he could make out exactly which voice he was hearing. The voice that haunted him forever. The voice that one never forgets once heard.
The voice of Mufasa. The voice of his father.
And instead of getting lulled back into the darkness, Simba felt himself drifting closer to the voices of the living.
...
"Hey, it's really okay, I can take him over. I did the same thing while we were running through the desert..." Kovu persisted, finishing by almost muttering to himself, realizing how maybe he should not have said that.
"Wait, what?" Nala tried to raise her voice, panting stopped her. Still, the harsh tone made her intention clear.
Kovu realized there was no going back now, so he proceeded more confidently. "He fell down for a short bit while we were running to Rafiki."
"Why didn't anyone of you mention that?" Nala said, not quite yelling, but the tone making it clear how much she wanted to.
"There were enough problems already. Mentioning it would only make things worse," Kovu continued, trying to look confident, but the feeling of shame was visibly taking over him.
"Well, he could have at least told me," Nala almost whispered. This sounded like she was only thinking out loud.
"That was his decision," Kovu responded and that was final as he silently approached Nala to take Simba over.
There were quiet, almost unnoticeable groans heard as Simba was being shifted from Nala to Kovu.
"Hold on!" Kiara yelled and Kovu and Nala froze, looking at her. "I think he's waking up!"
Kovu curved his legs slowly to easily roll Simba off to the ground. Everyone gathered around, forming a circle around their king.
"Simba…" Nala gently called out, nudging his head with her muzzle.
For a few seconds, everyone held their breaths, noticing Simba's eyes twitching as if they were about to open. Finally, they opened some more, revealing his sockets as he took a sharp inhale.
"Nala…" he whispered, his voice hoarse as if he ate dry earth. Well, in a way, that's what it almost was like.
The entire pride collectively let out a sigh of relief, but not a very big one. As if they didn't want to get their hopes up, still feeling like their king wouldn't be with them for much longer.
That was about all he managed to mutter out before he drifted away yet again.
...
This time Simba woke up in a familiar cave. The one at the Pride Rock. The one he called home. And he knew things would be alright. They took back what was their own. And if they had to defend it again, they will defend it. They, not him. And with each passing second he understood that more and more. He felt like he was in some strange place between the land and whatever lied beyond. Like those moments when you would wake up in the middle of the night and later don't remember, drifting between a dream and reality, all mixed up, feeling like the same thing.
Simba couldn't remember what he saw in his last blackout, but it was something that made him sure that he has seen what he has seen in this land. And he accepted it more calmly than he expected he would.
With his final senses, he began noticing things. He was surrounded by his pride, his family, once again. Maybe not all of them. Maybe only select few. It varied.
He also faintly remembered some short fight going on that quickly stopped. The remaining lionesses from Scar's pride were chased away. His pride was home again.
He could hear voices, sometimes Kiara's, sometimes Nala's, sometimes even Kovu's.
You must be strong...
You have to stand again...
Please, hold on...
I love you...
They were scared. And Simba understood it. He feared death the exact same way mere hours ago. So he took out some of his final strength, pouring all the love he could in his heirs, his sight still unfocused, voice still hoarse.
"You will be a great king and queen, I am proud of you..."
He wished for a better choice of words, wanting to say so much more, but it was so hard to say anything at all. Perhaps it was better to leave some things for them to figure out on their own. Like when he figured his things out long ago.
At some point, he heard someone. There was a considerably lesser amount of lions now. Maybe two or three. Maybe one. He could surely tell Kovu was there when he spoke: "I do not think I'm ready. I'm no fit for a king."
Simba let out a small chuckle, getting drowned out by choking noises. Finally, he let out his final words: "I used to think so about myself..."
That's the last thing he remembered from lying there on the ground, before leaving his heavy body behind. Before the pain disappeared.
A ray of light approached him, an explosion of pure awe coming over him as he realized he was looking at a silhouette. A silhouette he already saw.
The silhouette cleared up. It was his father smiling at him. Not the great king Mufasa, just his father. What Simba wanted all this time.
And suddenly, in that moment, he felt like that naive little, playful, if a bit wild little cub again. Like that night under the stars, that final beautiful night they spent together. Only now, they were not under the stars, but among them, part of them.
Simba ran to him, the look of pure joy on his face, while Mufasa let out his thunderous laugh with his thunderous voice that sounded like it could move mountains. Simba threw himself on Mufasa and they played, chasing after one another, both of their laughs echoing in the mysterious surrounding. But it didn't matter. They were together. Reunited. Father and son after both of them ruled their lands successfully.
Once they were lying on the ground, their laughs reduced to chuckles, Simba asked the question he already knew the answer to, but the cub in him couldn't resist:
"Dad, we're pals, right?"
Mufasa chuckled. "Right."
Author's note: First of all, I'm sorry, but it was necessary. Trust me, it will pay off. There is more to come. Six or seven more chapters, actually. This is only the midpoint of the story. I based the structure of the story a lot on the introduction-rising action-climax-falling action-resolution structure and this battle was, in a way, the climax. However, Scar will come back, so what's to come won't be character stuff only, the tension will rise again eventually. Now, I will take some time to work on the second half of the story a bit more during the holidays, so you can expect Chapter 9 in about three weeks. Just remember, I don't plan to keep this story bleak and depressing forever. There will be those moments, of course, but it's not entirely going to be like that. The thing is, my target audience for this fanfiction is largely those who grew up with The Lion King, but aren't kids anymore. Not to say that you can't read it if you don't belong to this audience, of course. And what The Lion King has always been about for me is self-acceptance, letting go, being strong in the darkest moments and seeing the good in life; the themes which very much are present in this fanfic. Now, enjoy your holidays, hope you have a great time, thank you so much for reading. Of course, comment if you have thoughts to share, whether bad or good, and I'll see you again in January. Peace!
