This may end up being one of the last two chapters, depending on how the one I'm writing goes. I apologize again for the break in updates - I started the Shakespeare camp again - last year I mentioned ( and Morph recalled ) Two Noble Kinsmen, and this year we did Twelfth Night - the inspiration for his first Rafiki's Tale, if my memory serves me correctly.
The morning after the storm was quiet and starting off well. The sun was rising over a thoroughly drenched but revitalized Pridelands, and birdsong echoed into the pink and orange horizon. The herds of the Pridelands slept contently in the warming rays of light that chased away both the cruel darkness of night and the memories of the weary lionesses that had been forced to butcher five beasts at the whim of King Maten.
The King was sitting at the tip of Pride Rock, his blue eyes focused out across the Pridelands on a point far in the horizon. Even though years had passed, he still remembered the exact spot where he had found Vitani's butchered body. The memory pained him, and it was in the few moments he was awake before the sun rose where the look in his eyes was weak and sad.
He turned his eyes away from the horizon and swept his suddenly changing gaze to Pride Rock. The causes of his agony were hidden in a cave here; a shrine was erected to the very lion that had cast him out and stolen from him everything he held dear, and the lioness who had sat by and watched it all happen. Maten's lips raised in a snarl.
He had unfinished business to attend to.
Elata was woken moments later by claws sinking cruelly into her muzzle. She tried to cry out, but Maten's large paw was clamping her jaw shut. His fierce blue eyes bore into her terrified golden ones, and when he tugged on her muzzle she scrambled silently to her paws. The words "Follow me" hissed faintly under the King's exhale before he released her and went outside. Elata followed, but on the way she nudged Winda awake. The mottled lioness missed the terrified look in Elata's eyes, but she watched the lead huntress pad out after the King.
Maten led Elata down the slope of Pride Rock and around to the back of it. When he assumed they were out of earshot, he turned a cool gaze to Elata. She recognized it; the King wore it often these days. He was planning something.
"Elata, where are Kiara and Kovu?"
The pale lioness caught her breath in her throat and stared at Maten. She shook her head slowly.
"M – Your highness, you can't…"
"Where are they?"
Elata remained stubborn until Maten's needle claws raked across her face. She suppressed a cry of pain and instead walked slowly towards the cave the lionesses from their reign considered sacred, and where they often went to feel safe.
Kiara and Kovu lay in the same embrace they had died in. Even after time and nature had melted flesh and muscle away, their bones remained. Maten stood at the mouth of the cave, his rage obvious by the way his body trembled as he looked upon the remains. He stalked forwards, snarling, and with one blow he shattered the slumber of the former King and Queen.
Elata's cry did come now, and Maten whirled on her. His roar echoed through the cave and out into the lands, shocking the Pride to their paws.
"Why did you do this!"
Elata was cowering at the entrance to the cave. She dared neither to move nor speak. No answer would placate Maten's rage. The King stared down at his should-be Queen, his snarl hovering within striking distance of her already bloody face. His blue eyes were like shards of ice stabbing into Elata's mind, probing her for the answers he needed.
"You knew I hated them both, and you kept them under my nose!"
Elata stared dumbly up at him, and he roared into her face again. The rest of the Pride had shown up now; the veterans from the previous reign stared with shock at the scene before them, while the newcomers and cubs were confused. Winda padded forwards slowly with another lioness, her jaw agape, but Maten's snarl kept them back from the shattered bones.
"We're going to move this garbage to the gorge."
A unified cry arouse from the lionesses, but only one – a white-furred female and old friend of Arina's – leapt forwards. She stood over the bones, and though her eyes were filled with terror she faced Maten boldly.
"You can't force us to do this, Maten. No lioness will shatter the sleep of a King and his…"
Maten snarled, his face twisting, and lashed out. He slammed his paw into the white face before him, his claws sinking into her fur. But he did not release her; instead, he took a stride towards the wall and threw the lioness against it. She twisted, as if to right herself, but the wall found her before she found the ground. She hit it with a sickening thud then fell limp to the ground, a thin line of blood from her mouth the only sign of her death.
One of the cubs gave a cry and rushed forwards. It was Mëa, a young lioness who had tan fur with white accents. Her eyes were a pale green with a splash of blue in the left one, which gave her the nickname Two-Tone. She nuzzled the still white neck, whimpering quietly.
Maten's lips raised in a snarl, but it was only the memory of finding his mother dead in the grass that kept him from mudering the cub too. The pain still haunted him, and he wanted her to suffer as he had.
They all had to suffer as he had.
Maten moved to the body and spat at Mëa to get her away. He bent down and took the lioness in his jaws, moving to the cave entrance. The Pride parted before him, watching with dumb horror as he simply tossed the dead body out onto the rocks and watched it roll down several yards before being stopped by a jutting rock. Winda stood protectively over Mëa as Maten met the Pride with his eyes.
"Let that serve as a warning to you all."
He moved back towrds the bones and stared down at them, narrowing his eyes before he picked up the skull of Kovu. Silence greeted this action, and he had to growl quietly before the lionesses slowly began to gather the bones of their beloved former leaders in their jaws and begin the long, painful trek towards the gorge.