Maurice
Maurice woke to find Nova already gone from the nest, along with her coat and gear. Snow had stayed behind, though, and was curled up near the firepit. She barely moved when he sat up slowly, feeling his bones creak and pop, and looking out a window to get a gist of the day's weather.
It was bright outside, so much so that it was almost painful to his eyes, but the frosty winter air, at least, seemed to have receded for good now, giving way to a comfortable spring breeze.
He rolled his shoulders as he got up, put out the fire in the pit, and only then did Snow lift her head to properly look at him, wagging her tail at the gentle pat he bestowed on her. She got up to follow him towards the door and Maurice caught himself being grateful for how she matched his pace. He had never been swift like a chimp, but it was impossible for Maurice to deny that old age was beginning to take its toll on him. His lumbering walk was slower nowadays and recently, he had spied his reflection in a pail of water and been met with shades of grey and white intermingled with the usual red of his pelt.
He carried on as he always had, though, passing on the gathered knowledge of the apes to the next generation as best as he could.
But not today. Today, the children had been allowed to roam free, just as the adults were home from hunting and foraging. As such, the village was teeming with life as Maurice made his way through it, a cacophony of noises and smells overwhelming his senses.
For a moment, Maurice thought he heard something, like a muffled shout, but only shrugged to himself and lumbered on when the noise didn't repeat itself. Must have been his imagination.
"Maurice!" Someone suddenly called through the hustle and bustle, now loud and clear, and Maurice turned to find none other than Orion walking towards him, a puzzled expression on his face.
"I called for you many times. Did you not hear?" Orion asked, brow raised in slight amusement.
"It would seem I didn't." Maurice said and stuck his pinky into his ear, convinced that something in there must have dimmed Orion's voice. Nothing came of it, however, and he shrugged once his finger was out of his ear again. "My hearing is not what it once was."
"True." Orion said with a nod, suddenly appearing sympathetic. "Lyra was quite worried yesterday after her lesson. She said you had trouble hearing what the children were saying when practising their speaking."
Maurice chuckled despite himself.
"Your daughter is very observant – and considerate of others" He said.
This coming summer, it would be three years since Orion and Ivy had welcomed their daughter into the world.
Lyra was a sweet ape-child who mostly took after her father, both in looks and, for the most part, in personality.
She was an eager student, quick-witted and with a, perhaps unsurprisingly, highly developed speech for an ape her age. Her signing, on the other hand, was somewhat below average, though Maurice supposed this was only natural. Most of her family hardly ever used sign anymore, except for Shale and Juniper, while Lydia was the only one to occasionally use both sign and speech when talking to others.
"Speaking of your daughter, who is she tailing today, if not you?"
"Cornelius, I believe." Orion replied with a smile. "He promised he would teach her how to fish."
"The student has become the teacher, then." Maurice nodded with approval. "Let's hope they won't return in the same state you and Cornelius did the day Ivy announced her pregnancy."
At this, Orion chortled outright.
"My brother has grown with his responsibilities since then. And we both know Lyra hangs on to his every word." Orion said, shaking his head with amusement. "At times, it seems like Cornelius could make her do anything he asks."
"True." Maurice said with a huff. "While she can make her father and grandfather do anything she asks of them, correct?"
Orion reached up and scratched the back of his neck, smiling almost sheepishly.
"I like to believe that Caesar is worse than me in this."
Well, that much was definitely true. If there was one ape apart from Orion that little Lyra had completely wrapped around her finger, it was Caesar. It wasn't that Shale didn't adore her just as much, or that he was strict with her or not as affectionate. Lyra simply seemed to have a special way with her adoptive grandfather.
"Agreed." Maurice nodded. "One can hope it will serve the two of them well while Lydia and Cornelius are gone."
Orion's smile faded almost immediately, replaced by a thin line across his muzzle as he nodded.
"I hope so..."
"You would prefer that they stayed." Maurice said after a small pause, causing Orion to bite his lip.
It wasn't a question. Maurice knew Orion's thoughts on the matter. While he had never downright opposed the idea from the moment it had been presented by the Ape Council a year prior, he had questioned it. Many times, and more so as of late.
The younger ape nodded.
"There is something to be gained from it, I realise that, but… Are the benefits greater than the risks? It is dangerous, Maurice. What we have right here, it is good. Peaceful. Stable. And how long will they even be gone? I do not see why they have to do this while Lyra is still so little." He said, voice edged with frustration.
Then, he held his hand up, just as Maurice was about to sign his reply.
"I know what you want to say – and you are right. It would never be the right time for such a thing… I guess I had hoped that, after everything we have gone through, things could just… settle down, now. For good..."
"You have done your fair share of journeys and adventures already, Orion. You have seen the world and made your mark here. It makes sense that you would want to settle now." Maurice replied solemnly, nodding in understanding at the younger ape. "Cornelius, on the other hand, has grown up listening to the stories of everyone else. Caesar's, Rocket's, mine, Lydia's and yours. Even Blue Eyes'. Can you really blame him for wanting to experience the world too, even just a little?"
Orion exhaled through his nose and pursed his lips before replying.
"I do not blame him for it. In fact, I think it could do him good. If he is going to lead us one day, he needs to know the world." He admitted. "But it is different with Mother. She has travelled. Seen the world – more than enough, I thought. And yet this idea came from her."
Maurice couldn't help the small chuckle that escaped him, despite Orion's fretting, and he shook his large head at the younger ape.
"You know as well as I do what happens when Lydia gets an idea stuck in her head. Even if making that idea a reality means setting aside her own comfort." He said, his signing as slow as ever. "Your mother is the one person in the entire colony best suited to find anything useful to us. And she takes her duties to us very seriously."
Orion sighed in a dejected sort of way that made Maurice crease his brow.
"It is always her, Maurice. Always her who gets the ideas, always her who has to make them true. Always her who must put the village before herself… and her family."
A pair of Maurice's students flitted past, startling the old ape as they seemed to appear out of nowhere. Maybe his eyesight was beginning to fail him as well? Though it wouldn't surprise him, though he found himself hoping it would last long enough for him to be able to read at least some of the books Lydia and Cornelius were to bring back.
He waved at the two smaller apes, who gibbered excitedly before taking off through the crowd. Once they were gone, he returned to the conversation at hand, taking note of how Orion was picking at the old tear in his ear.
"I can't fault you for thinking like that, Orion, but your mother holds an important position here. She has worked hard to prove herself, and without her counsel, many things might not have turned out so well for us."
Orion's lips remained pursed, his eyes avoiding Maurice's.
"I just hope that Lyra will not be too distraught when she finds out."
Initially, Maurice wanted to reprimand him for changing the subject just because it wasn't what he wanted to hear – but...
"You haven't told her yet?"
He knew his face was set in an expression of disapproval. He didn't think Orion, ever the responsible ape and a bad liar to boot, would keep something like this from his precious daughter. Didn't even think he could, to be honest.
Orion shook his head.
"I feel horrible for it." He said, voice tinted with shame. "But I could not bring myself to say it."
"Orion," Maurice signed. "They are leaving in less than a week."
The younger ape gave a heavy sigh and his shoulders slumped.
"I am aware of this." He said and Maurice, despite his disapproval, couldn't help feeling sorry for him. "I should have done it as soon as the decision had been made. Ivy wanted to do it then, but… Do you not remember how she cried when Caesar and Cornelius left for a three-day hunt in the mountains? How am I to explain to her that her uncle and grandmother will leave her to collect books? I cannot even tell her how long they would be gone if she asked."
"Does Ivy know you have been stalling?" Maurice asked with a raised brow.
He didn't think it was possible for Orion to look any more guilt-ridden than he already did, only to be proved wrong when the younger ape's shoulders drew upwards and his frown deepened even worse than before.
"No… She does not." He said, only to look over his shoulder as if to make sure she wasn't around to hear. "I told her I would do it myself. I'm her father – it is my responsibility..."
Maurice shook his head in exasperation at his former student and patted his shoulder in sympathy.
"You really know how to dig yourself into a hole, Orion." He said. "I hope that, when the time comes, you'll know how to dig yourself out as well."
Cornelius
"Uncle Nelius! Look!" Came an excited whisper, and the Ape Prince followed the index finger of his niece as she pointed towards the water's shimmering surface.
A fish, a little under medium size, was slowly making its way down the stream, right towards the two of them.
"Not yet." He whispered back, keeping still despite the way her hands pulled almost painfully at his fur.
She was perched on his back, peeking over his shoulder with rapt attention directed at the water as they waited for the perfect catch.
Initially, she had begged him to let her try and catch a fish herself, but he had ultimately deemed that Lyra was still a bit too small to hold her own spear. He had tried to reason with her on this and been partially successful – which was more than what could be said for Orion and Father when faced with Lyra's pleading eyes anytime she wanted something.
In a year or two, he had said, and she would be around the same age Cornelius himself had been when Orion had begun teaching him how to do this. When that time came, he would make a spear for her, fit for her size, and let her try – with his guidance, of course.
"Grampa would have let me try." She had argued at first, crossing her arms in front of her chest in a way that was all-too similar to the way Ivy would do it when she deemed Orion's reasoning just barely viable.
But Cornelius had held firm.
"I'm not your 'grampa'." He had said while mimicking her stance, which had made her immediately drop her arms back to her sides.
Above her head, he had caught the sight of Ivy holding her hand over her mouth to stifle a snigger. Before Lyra could take notice, he had returned his attention to her.
"I will teach you my way or not at all." He had said. "Unless you want your father to teach you instead?"
Lyra's head had shook so vigorously that her braids had almost hit her in the eye.
"No, you say you would teach!" She had said, pouting. "And Dad will make me watch. Not do."
Cornelius didn't know how this was any different from the way Brother would have taught her. It wasn't like she was doing anything right now, except pointing and asking questions from time to time. Perhaps he would have made her sit on the riverbank and observe instead? Away from the obvious danger of the shallow water?
Despite having a hard time telling his daughter 'no', Orion did have an overprotective streak when it came to Lyra. At least in Cornelius' opinion.
Ah, but what did he know? Maybe he would be the same once he had one of his own?
Cornelius almost huffed out a laugh at the thought.
With his eight years of age, he was still an adolescent and hadn't even really set his sights on a female yet. Becoming a father still seemed like a far-fetched concept to him. Something adult and finite.
Then again, he supposed looking after Lyra counted as practice. While sweet and generally well-behaved, his niece was certainly a handful at times – if only because she was just so darn smart for her age.
A soft but insistent pat against his shoulder brought Cornelius back to the task at hand just in time for him to see a large fish swimming towards them.
"That one, Nelius! That one!" Lyra whispered excitedly above his head. She was practically shaking with it, and clung on hard to Cornelius' fur in preparation for him to strike.
Giving a single nod of agreement, he tightened the grip on his thin fishing spear and made sure to stand completely motionless in the water, just like Orion had taught him once upon a time. The fish slid through the water at a leisurely pace, clearly unaware of the danger that lurked downstream. It was a game of patience that most ape children simply couldn't play at – Cornelius had struggled with it too – though Lyra was doing surprisingly well so far, despite the quiver in her grip.
He wouldn't strike before she gave the signal. This lesson was just as much about practising her judgement as it was about teaching her how to hold a spear. If the fish got away, it wasn't a big deal – there were more where it came from – but knowing that their success depended on her, at least in part, was a valuable tool when teaching Lyra about responsibility and patience.
Three quick pats on his shoulder let Cornelius know it was time to strike, as he did as he was told without further ado.
The spear pierced the water's surface, then the fish just behind its gills. A perfect strike.
A small spurt of blood briefly coloured the water red before it was swept away by the steady stream. The fish wiggled once, twice as Cornelius held the spear aloft above the water's surface. Another half-hearted twitch and it went limp.
"You did it, Uncle Nelius!" Lyra exclaimed behind his shoulder. "You caught a big one!"
Cornelius turned his head to smile back at his niece.
"We caught a big one, Lyra. You chose the perfect moment." He said, earning himself a smile bright enough to rival the sun itself.
He trudged back to the shore, the drag of the water making his steps slow and sluggish. He had already showed her the ropes by catching a few fish with Lyra merely observing and by now, Cornelius felt it was time for a break. Better to end the first part of the lesson on a high note.
Lyra hopped off his back as soon as they reached dry land and turned to stare at him expectantly as he hauled himself out of the water.
"Can I hold it?" She asked, making Cornelius chuckle.
"Of course. Just be careful – fish are slippery." He said and reached into the satchel. Out of the five fish in there, it was the second largest.
He grabbed hold of her hand and instructed her to hook her index finger upwards before he placed the fish onto it.
"Here, hold it by the gills, then you won't drop it. See? Like a hook."
"Eeeew! I see my finger in the mouth."
Lyra's face twisted into a disgusted grimace as she held their catch with an outstretched arm as if the added distance would make it less off-putting. After another second, however, curiosity got the better of her, and she pulled it closer once more to examine the body of the fish.
"It has pretty skin."
"Scales. Fish have scales. See how they are put in layers? This is why they are so smooth." Cornelius explained as he crouched down beside her.
Lyra traced a finger down the length of their catch, wonder all too evident on her face. The Ape Prince had never really thought a fish could be described as 'pretty', but as he followed the line his niece drew against the scales, he thought to himself that she might have a point.
Most of the body was silver-grey, with a light belly and darker back, which held just a hint of green along the spine. On top of it all was a covering of tiny dots, which grew steadily bigger and more numerous towards the tail.
"This is a fine catch" He praised as he took the fish back and put it safely into the satchel. "It looks like you will be the one providing for your family today".
Lyra bounced at those words, eyes lit with pride. Cornelius wasn't one for undue praise, not even when it came to his niece, but nor was he the kind to hold back when it had been earned. And there was no question that Lyra had earned it today.
"Just promise me that you will keep learning, even if your father will only let you watch." He said and ruffled the hair on her head before he went to pick up the thin fishing spear. "Maybe, by the time we come back, you'll have learned enough for me to let you try it for yourself. How about that?"
If the brief but tense pause that immediately followed his words hadn't been enough to tell Cornelius that he had said something wrong, then the foreboding note to his niece's voice certainly was.
"What you mean, Uncle Nelius?" She said.
The Ape Prince's hand stilled just above the spear and clenched in a manner similar to the way his heart did just then. A painful beat, then another – and then the inevitable question came.
"Are you… going away?"
Cornelius swore he could feel what seemed like a boulder-sized weight hit the bottom of his stomach as he came to the conclusion that nobody had deigned to tell Lyra about the quest he and Mother would embark on in a week's time.
And what was worse, now it looked like he was going to be the one to break the news to his little niece.
He couldn't ever remember having the urge to shake Orion quite so fiercely before – because he just knew it was Orion who had decided to say nothing. Ivy would have wanted to get it over with and let Lyra get used to the idea.
"Uncle…?" Came the ape child's voice once more, and Cornelius realised he must have been frozen like this for way too long. "Who… Who is leaving?"
Lyra's emerald green eyes were wide as they stared up at him, and the curve of her brow revealed her growing anxiety.
"I-I thought your parents had told you by now…" He stammered, then cleared his throat. "Your grandmother, me and a few others. We are… We will be going on a journey soon. To collect… some items."
"Gramma is going away too?" Lyra said with a quivering bottom lip.
It was easy to forget how young she was sometimes, Cornelius thought, but right now, she looked and sounded very much like the three-year-old ape she truly was. Distraught at the idea of her loved ones leaving her.
"But- but you will be back soon?" She asked hopefully.
Here we go… Cornelius thought with no small amount of trepidation as he gripped the strap of the satchel.
"I… Don't know when we will be back, Lyra." He pursed his lips. Already, he could see the first sign of tears. "I mean, it could be anything from a couple of months to half a year. I don't think it will be more than that. But don't worry – it's not going to be dangerous. We will come back."
"Half a year!?" Lyra exclaimed in that particular shriek-like note that only a three-year-old ape child seemed capable of producing.
He wasn't even sure Lyra had a firm grasp on exactly how long half a year was. When he had come back from a hunting trip in the mountains with Father, she had flung herself at them as if they had been gone for half a lifetime when it had, in fact, only been about three days.
With that in mind, maybe he had been naïve to assume that she had already been told.
"Why?" Lyra demanded, tears now flowing freely down her cheeks. "Why are you leaving? Why is Gramma leaving? Is Grampa leaving too? Uncle Rocket?"
"No, no! Only Mother and I are going together with a few guards! Everyone else stays here with you."
It was like trying to keep autumn leaves on their branches in the middle of a storm. Nothing Cornelius said to reassure his niece seemed to have the desired effect, as she would jump from one concern to the next before The Ape Prince could even finish answering.
"We'll be looking for books."
"It's your grandmother's idea."
"We will be going in about six days from now."
"I don't know why your parents didn't tell you."
"No, we will not be fighting any soldiers."
Within his own mind, Cornelius cursed whoever thought the apes' bloody struggle against the Colonel and his men were appropriate stories to tell small children like his niece. Personally, he was glad that he had been too young to remember most of it clearly.
"I want to go too! I want to go with you!" Lyra suddenly exclaimed, and Cornelius knew the colour must have completely drained from his face at that.
"You can't, Lyra. It's not safe for a child." He tried, only to immediately discover that this was most definitely not the right thing to say.
Lyra's face was red by now, her eyes glistening with tears and her expression utterly shattered.
"But you said it isn't dangerous!" She hiccuped in-between words. "I don't want you to leave! Is not fair! I will make Grampa say you can't leave!"
And with that, she spun around on her heel and darted away, running on all-fours at break-neck speed back towards the village.
"LYRA! WAIT!" Cornelius called so loudly it startled a flock of birds out of a nearby tree, but to no avail.
She had fled the scene before he even had the chance to get to reach out in an attempt to stop her.
"I'm going to dunk Orion's head into the lake for this…" Cornelius vowed under his breath as got up and, with a deep sigh, began trudging back towards the village in search of his little niece.
Caesar
"So, has she started sleeping a full night yet?" Ivy asked with interest as she cooed at the child in Lake's arms. She was met with a curious stare from large, green eyes, soon followed by a soft, giggly babble.
Lake sighed, clearly tired but still with a small smile on her lips.
"No, she wakes three times each night without fail. But everyone tells me it won't be long before she will let us rest some more."
Ivy nodded.
"Lyra continued waking until she was about seven or eight months old." She said and shook her head as if to shake off the memory of the sleepless nights. "Orion's patience with her was greater than mine – not that it did us much good. He could not very well feed her while I slept."
Orion nodded along, a single arm slung around his mate's shoulders and a soft look in his eyes.
Caesar smiled at the scene.
Not long after Lyra's birth three years ago, a male ape by the name of Colt had begun to show an interest in Lake. His first tentative attempts had been less than successful but, as Lake had confided in Caesar, after a conversation she had had with Bad Ape some time after settling here, she had begun to realise that her life didn't have to end just because Blue Eyes' had. As it turned out, Colt and herself actually had a lot in common.
It was a relief to Caesar. Daughter-in-law or not, Lake would always be family to him – and while he wasn't his son, Colt, whose affections she had finally become able to return, was still a good and reliable ape.
And their daughter, Stream? Well, she was as three-month-old ape children are most – sweet as can be, but already quite a handful.
Lake took it in stride, however. Motherhood suited her very well indeed, and Caesar couldn't help but admire her immense patience even in situations where other parents might have been at the end of their tether.
Or perhaps he was just getting old? The mere thought of raising another child was enough to make him feel tired to the bone, and with Lyra as a prime example of just how energetic a small ape can be, Caesar was glad that his days of fathering children were well behind him.
While he loved his granddaughter dearly, he sure was grateful for the fact that he could hand her off to her parents at the end of the day.
"Despite the lack of sleep, you seem happy, Lake." Lydia commented with a soft smile. She was sitting beside Caesar, following the conversation as she worked on yet another sewing project. "It's really good to see."
Lake returned the smile and brushed her fingers over the crown of Steam's little head.
"I am happy. Happier than I have been in a long time." She said – and Caesar knew it was nothing but the truth.
The melancholy which seemed to have latched on to Lake like a leech – small but draining – since Blue Eyes' death, finally seemed to have released its grip. True, she wasn't the same as she had been before it had all happened, but who of them was, in the end?
Suddenly, the tranquil atmosphere was shattered at the sound of the high-pitched cries of an ape child steadily coming closer. It grew steadily louder as it approached Caesar's group, but from within the hustle and bustle of the village, it was hard to discern the sound's exact location.
That is, right until the sea of working apes parted to let Lyra through as she came charging, nearly blind with tears, through the crowd.
She stopped briefly to look around, only to break into a four-legged sprint once more when she spotted her mother.
The fact that Ivy hadn't been completely winded when her daughter all but threw herself at her chest had Caesar more than just a little impressed. Her arms quickly closed around Lyra in a gentle embrace, one hand already carding through the fur along Lyra's back to calm the child.
"Lyra?! What happened?" Ivy said in puzzlement and slight alarm. "Why are you crying?"
The child only shook her head in response and pressed her face further into her mother's shoulder. Beside Ivy, Lake hooted soothingly when little Stream began to stir at the ruckus.
Caesar and Lydia shared a bewildered look with one another. It wasn't often their happy-go-lucky granddaughter sobbed so hard that words failed her and when it did, it broke Caesar's heart every single time.
"Lyra," Orion cooed gently at her over Ivy's shoulder all the while concern was etched onto his face by deep creases in his brow. "Are you hurt? Where is Cornelius? I thought you had gone fishing with him?"
Lyra curled up further against Ivy's front, not saying a word.
It took a while for the heart-wrenching sobbing to subside and be reduced to the occasional dry heaves and quiet sniffles. Even so, no one seemed to want to be the first to speak and risk aggravating Lyra any further – until Caesar finally took it upon himself to do so.
"Lyra," He began, as soft and gentle as he could from where he sat across from Ivy. "Will you tell us what's wrong? We can't help unless you do..."
For the first time since her dramatic arrival, Lyra actually dared take a look at who was talking to her.
And what a look it was…
Her eyes were red-rimmed and her cheeks damp, her bottom lip quivered as she sniffled. Caesar almost wished he hadn't said anything, only for the thought to be violently shoved from his mind with the surprise of what happened next.
"Grampa!" Lyra exclaimed as she wrenched herself from Ivy's gentle hold and darted towards The Ape King at break-neck speed.
He had no choice but to catch her as she threw herself at his chest and held on to his fur so tightly she might as well have pulled it out. He made no protest, however, too preoccupied with the fact that his precious granddaughter was currently pressing into his chest, weeping once more. He shared another look with Lydia, whose expression was about as schocked as he felt.
"What's wrong, Sweetheart?" She asked as she reached over to pat Lyra's back.
To everyone's surprise, the child suddenly jerked away from Lydia's touch, almost as if burned, and Caesar couldn't help but let out a small grunt of discomfort as she pulled even harder on his fur in the attempt to get away. The look of surprise on Lydia's face was quickly exchanged for one of confusion and slight hurt, and she withdrew her hand as Lyra continued to cling to Caesar.
"Please tell Uncle Nelius and Gramma to stay!" She suddenly managed to choke out, voice cracking halfway through. "Please, Grampa!"
As if summoned by the mention of his name, Cornelius was the next to appear, coming towards the group at a slow trot through the village.
The supplies they had brought with them for their fishing lesson were nowhere to be seen and The Ape King concluded that Cornelius must have left them down by the river to chase after Lyra. He made a quick mental note to ask someone else to retrieve it later. This looked like it might take a while to resolve...
"Care to explain what this is about?" Lydia asked Cornelius once he had come up to the group, taking on a much sterner tone as she immediately took charge of the situation. Perhaps Caesar should have been the one to do it but, when it came to family matters, Lydia was usually better at such things – a proper matriarch, if he ever saw one. Besides, Caesar was currently too preoccupied with trying to comfort Lyra, all the while simultaneously following the conversation at hand.
"Why don't you ask Orion." Cornelius replied with no small amount of annoyance in his voice and a deep crease between his brows as he regarded his older brother.
An awkward silence fell over the small group just then, and Caesar half expected Orion to act indignant and ask how his daughter's tears could possibly be his fault. To the Ape King's surprise, however, all he did was hunch his shoulders and avoid Cornelius' hard stare.
"I'll ask again, then…" Lydia said in a levelled voice upon seeing the look of guilt on his face. "What's this about, Orion?"
Though he might be able to avoid his brother's eyes, Orion was never able to avoid Lydia's pointed stare for more than a handful of seconds, and completely succumbed almost instantly once their eyes met.
Today was no exception.
"I… Lyra did not know about you and Cornelius' trip."
Before Lydia could as much as open her mouth to scold him, Ivy's head whipped around to stare, mouth agape and emerald eyes wide in equal parts astonishment and fury.
"You did not tell her?" She asked as she inched away from him, out from under his arm. "After you said you would?! After you promised?!"
Orion sighed and reached up to rub his temple, immense guilt visible in his expression.
"I wanted to, I did! But I just could not bring myself to do it." He defended with slumped shoulders as his eyes darted between Ivy's furious face and Lyra, who remained huddled against Caesar's chest.
"Orion!" Ivy and Lydia said in unison and with equally severe expressions on their faces. Even Lake wore a look of disapproval.
Though he wasn't the target of their wrath, Caesar winced just the same as Orion did. Sometimes, it was unnerving how similar Lydia and Ivy were in their tone.
He had never witnessed a more accurate representation of the phrase 'stuck between a rock and a hard place' than the position Orion was currently in. For once, however, he didn't pity the younger ape. Not when Lyra's distress seemed to be his fault, at least in part.
"I can't believe it." Lydia said, frowning. "Why would you not tell her, Orion? I thought you'd at least prepare her for it. You know how she reacts to this kind of stuff."
At this, Caesar noted a sudden look of irritation on Orion's features as he regarded Lydia, and braced himself for the discussion he knew would come next, as it had for the past few months.
"So do you, Mother, and yet you chose to go, anyway. This would not be an issue otherwise." Orion defended.
"Orion, we've talked about this." Lydia began, straightening in her seat. "I can't just put the good of the village aside for the sake of one person, granddaughter or not."
"The good of the village? We have been doing fine without a library until now." He retorted with a sour note to his voice. "When is it enough, Mother? When will you stop trying to improve what already works? When will you be content to just stay put and let life be as it is?"
"When will you realise that we are not fish in a stale pond?" Cornelius intervened before Lydia could answer.
Over in Lake's protective arms, Stream had begun to wriggle and whine. Caesar managed to catch the new mother's eye just then, and nodded when she discreetly rose to leave with her child.
"Good luck." She signed with a sympathetic look on her face, to which Caesar could do nothing but shake his head in exasperation.
Hardly anyone else present seemed to notice Lake taking her leave as the argument went on.
"That is what you think this village is? A stale pond?" Orion said, now facing Cornelius with a deeply furrowed brow. "It may not be exciting, but it is safe. It is home. You are too young to remember what it took to get us here-"
At that, Orion's gaze turned to Lydia.
"But you are not. You know. And still you want to leave. Split up the family again."
"I'm doing this for all of us, Orion."
"Yes, I know – for the village. Always the village." He said with a roll of his eyes.
"Why do I have a feeling that this isn't just about us leaving anymore?" Lydia asked with a raised brow, only to receive a scoff from her eldest son.
"Lydia, the Not-Queen, the human of the Ape Council. You have already proven yourself, Mother." He said. "You no longer have to work twice as hard as every ape to justify your place here. You do not have to always be the one to risk yourself for everyone else. It is time you let others do that and start thinking about the good of your family instead."
"Orion!" Ivy admonished, looking horrified. "This is no way to talk!"
She wasn't the only one shocked at Orion's outburst, as even Caesar had his attention briefly shifted from Lyra's tight grip and quiet sniffles.
It wasn't the first time that Orion had let his discontent be known. He had become increasingly vocal about it during the last year, begrudging Lydia's continued divided attention as she performed her duties to the village – but even then, he had never used such a tone with her, nor had he ever outright accused her of negligence before.
And a sideways glance at Lydia told Caesar that he had hit a nerve. Her expression was a mixture of equal parts shock, anger and hurt – and perhaps a bit of guilt, too.
Most telling was the fact that she didn't reply but simply sat there, observing her eldest son with slumped shoulder, and a defeated air about her.
"You have overstepped your mark, Orion." Cornelius took over, his voice low and his mouth set in a firm line as he stared at his brother from underneath a deeply furrowed brow.
Was that the look everyone had seen on Caesar's own face whenever he had reasserted himself? Because even though he had never seen it himself, that look, and that tone, felt oddly familiar to the Ape King.
"You have not prepared your daughter for the trouble she will face in life. You have shielded her for too long. Picked up every little stray twig in her path because you can't bring yourself to make her sad – you said so yourself, already. So don't try to shift the blame onto Mother."
Lydia remained silent as she looked between Orion and Cornelius, expression now unreadable. Meanwhile, Ivy looked about ready to yank Orion down and smack him upside the head before he could get to his feet and face Cornelius properly.
In that moment, Caesar decided that he needed to intervene, regretting he hadn't done so sooner.
"Enough!" He boomed in a firm voice as he stood up, clutching Lyra to his chest.
Her face was pressed against the side of his neck, but the way her body shook as she cowered in his arms was obvious enough. He felt bad for frightening her like that and even more so when Lydia winced beside him at his tone. He would have to apologise for that later, he reminded himself – but right now, he had more pressing matters to attend to.
At least he had everyone's attention now...
"I will take Lyra for a ride around the lake." He said with an air of finality, though he made sure he had Ivy's approval to do so with a quick look, to which he received a nod. A small one, but a nod nonetheless – it was all he needed.
"Orion, go home and stay there until you have calmed down – and once you have, I think the two of you need to talk. Just the two of you." Caesar commanded, making sure his tone left no room for further argument as his eyes travelled from Orion to Lydia and back. Then, he turned to Cornelius. "Go get the fishing tools you left behind down by the stream. Then find Rocket and tell him that he is in charge until I return."
With that, the Ape King turned on his heel and left, only vaguely aware of Orion's half-hearted protest which were followed promptly by a low grunt, most likely the result of a well-aimed and none-too-gentle nudge against his ribs, courtesy of Ivy.
Lyra, who would normally have bounced in his arms with excitement at the prospect of a horseback ride with her grandpa, didn't make a sound. Caesar let his lips brush over the top of her head and hoisted her further up on his chest as he made his way towards the stables, where he told one of the attending apes to fetch him a satchel with some food supplies.
He had a feeling this was going to be one hell of a ride – in more than one sense.
