Trying to work in the end of "The Lion King," the timeline for the ages young cubs and the motivations of "Lion King 2," and the ending of "Lion King 1 ½" so they fit together fairly smoothly is rather troubling. My plan is that the first movie gets priority in importance, the second is next, and the third/mid-quel gets the most flexibility. I'll have to take a few creative liberties anyway to make things work out effectively, but I shouldn't hopefully be contradicting anything from the movies (or if I do, it won't contradict them too badly).
Thanks for the feedback so far and keep up the reviews. They make me a happy writer. And happy writers tend to update more often.
Simba, their best friend and a fully grown lion, stood on top of the rather impressive rock. The fight itself was just a huge blur for the meerkat; it felt like he was running around so much that it almost seemed like he was in two places at once. But now, watching their kid up there and knowing he'd won made Timon feel rather proud. Their cub did it. He came, he stopped his uncle, and he took back his childhood home. Watching the lion up there, roaring on top of Pride Rock, he couldn't stop wondering when their kid grew up.
As soon as possible, Timon urged his fellow meerkats to hide at a safe distance. How in the world Ma and Uncle Max found him, especially in the middle of overthrowing an evil tyrant and the group of hyenas, was a real mystery. But once things began to calm down, Timon realized how stressful all of this would be on them. Both of his fellow meerkats would be happier at a safe distance, preferably in a tunnel. He and Pumbaa, however, needed to make sure Simba would be okay first.
Still, even if he wasn't as completely afraid as Uncle Max by the very idea of being away from the safety of a hole in the ground, he couldn't ignore the fact that he and Pumbaa were surrounded by very hungry lionesses and only Simba and Nala knew they weren't for dinner. That little fact was concerning and kept Timon on alert. At the first sign of trouble, the moment the predators noticed them, he planned to scream at the top of his lungs and run straight towards their lion. Simba would protect them.
"So you did it," a female voice remarked behind them.
Yelping in surprise, the two of them spun around to find themselves face to face with an unfamiliar lioness. She was clearly older than Nala and, more importantly, she wasn't trying to eat them. Her fur was a darker tan than Simba's childhood friend and she was staring at them in a rather odd way.
"Uh… did what?" asked Pumbaa.
"Brought back my son," she answered. "I thought I lost him a long time ago, along with Mufasa. Thank you."
Timon stared at her in surprise, realizing this was Simba's mother. This was the kid's true family. It really began to hit the meerkat. The cub they raised, teaching him to forget the past and to not worry about anything, including any type of responsibilities, was home. He was back with his family and they expected him to rule over them, to lead them as their king. Even when Nala called the kid that, it really didn't sink in or feel real. And even though he felt that she would tear the trio apart, he never really considered the full extent of what would happen once that pretty lioness showed up and claimed Simba was supposed to be ruling. Now, seeing Simba and this place drove home the point that nothing would ever be the same. He wouldn't come back with them. They couldn't go back to the way things used to be.
Quietly, the meerkat mumbled, "He came back here on his own. We just followed him."
She shook her head, "No. He might have traveled on his own four paws to get here, but he wouldn't have been able to survive alone all this time. He was too young." She turned her head back towards her son, who was now descending to rejoin the pride. "He looks so much like his father. And I thought I would never see him again, never get to see him become an adult."
"Yeah, he's a… great kid," Timon agreed, nervous about talking with the lioness and not just because she was a predator. "Never knew he'd be king or anything. Sorry that we didn't teach him any stuff about ruling or anything like that. We never expected him to need that."
"Not that we know that kind of things ourselves, Simba's mom, ma'am," added Pumbaa.
"Right," the meerkat nodded. "So, if he turns out to be a great king and everything, he managed it by himself, even with our goofing around most of his childhood."
She smiled rather warmly at the pair, which was mildly disconcerting coming from someone who should be viewing him as a meal, and stated, "I can already see you gave him everything he might have needed. And you can call me 'Sarabi'."
Without another word, she went back to see her long-lost son. The lioness rubbed her head against his face and neck affectionately, reassuring herself that Simba was truly alive and well. He returned the gesture, clearly as happy to be back with his mother as she was about his return. The entire pride that the meerkat could spot looked equally eager to view the new king. Only a few hung back uneasily, apparently still shocked by the day's events or possibly not certain what to make of their new king. Honestly, Timon was beginning to feel like he and Pumbaa were intruding.
"Come on, pal," the meerkat sighed. "Let's get out of here before they realize that the walking buffet is leaving."
"Without saying 'good-bye'?" asked Pumbaa, stunned by the suggestion.
"It'll be easier to handle if we don't draw things out," he explained, dismissing the warthog's words. "Look at him. He's happy. He's with his family again and he's home. He doesn't need us hanging around, getting in the way."
"Oh… okay," sniffed Pumbaa sadly as the meerkat climbed on his back.
"We'll go meet up with Ma and Uncle Max," he suggested. "Maybe we can take them back to our oasis. Or even drag the whole colony there. What do you think?"
"Sure," the warthog agreed without enthusiasm.
Honestly, Timon wasn't much happier. When he said it would be easier to go without saying good-bye, he meant it would be easier for him. He already knew that his happiness depended on having both of his best friends. But he could also see that everything Simba needed was already there. The lion was where he was meant to be: with other lions. The kid didn't need them at all now and Timon didn't want to be there to witness that fact. He was too proud to simply wait until their unnecessary status became obvious. It was better to leave on a high note. Simba would be better off with his own kind than with a smelly pig and a meerkat without the sense to live in a tunnel.
And, if they left now, he wouldn't have to face the kid and tell him they were leaving. It would hurt too much to tell Simba "good-bye," so he refused to do it. He simply couldn't do it.
"So, do you want to explain why we found you in the middle of a massive battle between hyenas and lions?" asked Uncle Max.
"Not particularly," Timon answered shortly, wishing his relative would let him concentrate.
"How about why you're riding a warthog? Or why you're bring him back to the colony?"
The younger meerkat rolled his eyes in exasperation. He was trying to work on a plan, one that should make life better for the other meerkats. It would be hard, though. And he was still working on the details. Having Uncle Max continue to ask question about everything under the sun was a distraction from his planning. Still, he and Ma had to be mildly confused by all of this.
Thus, he explained carefully, "Because Pumbaa's my best friend. And that means we stick together."
"Well, he seems like a very nice person," complimented Ma.
"Thank you," remarked the warthog.
"Terrific," groaned the paranoid older meerkat. "Timon, you do realize he won't fit in the tunnels, right? And you'll break them if you try to fit him. How is this going to work out?"
"I've got a plan," his nephew answered simply.
Three meerkats and a warthog walking across the dead landscape, still being peppered by light rain, and there was not another animal in sight. Now was the perfect time to travel, especially with Pumbaa in the group. And that was what Timon was counting on.
"Well I'm proud of my Timmy," Ma declared. "He went out into the world and took care of himself. And he and his friend faced down those hyenas so bravely."
Uncle Max muttered, "And so suicidal. Why he picked a side in a fight between predators, I'll never understand."
"Oh hush," the maternal meerkat scolded. "Why can't you just be happy that Timon is safe and coming home?" She smiled fondly to herself, "Maybe he'll settle down with a nice girl and have a few pups now. I always wanted grandchildren."
"Ma, Ma, time out," yelled the rather anxious Timon. "First, I'm right here and can hear ever word you're saying, so stop talking about me like I'm not. Second, slow down on the grand-kids thing. Third, I'm not moving back into the tunnels. I'm moving the colony out of them."
"What?" Ma asked in surprise, her thoughts of tiny meerkats scampering around stop abruptly.
"We're dead," moaned Uncle Max. "He wants to get us all killed."
"Oy," grumbled Timon. "This is going to take a while."
By the time they drew near the colony, he had managed to convince his mother that moving would be a good idea. Uncle Max wasn't completely convinced, but after he went into his old "eaten by everyone, feared by no one" rant about the meerkat's role in the world, he settled for grumbling unhappily. Timon unhappily understood that they would be the easiest to convince and most of them would have to be dragged out of their holes by force if he wanted them to travel. And, honestly, what right did he have to make them move if they didn't want to? The smallest tendril of doubt began to wiggle into his mind. Maybe this was a bad idea.
The rain was still falling, which was a good thing considering that the droughts had caused the herds to leave and Simba's pride needed the other animals to return. The weather also meant that none of them heard much until they were close to the colony. In fact, Timon didn't notice until Pumbaa's ears perked up. Then, he heard the faint sounds of screams over the rain. The meerkat stood on top of the warthog's head, using the additional height to look over the patches of dry grass that still remained.
Hyenas were digging ahead. Three familiar hyenas were digging eagerly at the ground, producing terrified screams from below. Hunger was pushing the scavenging carnivores away from the Pridelands and they were now after the only present food source: the colony. And even their tunnels wouldn't be enough to save them.
Sliding back down to his more usual spot on the warthog's back, Timon called, "Ma, you and Uncle Max stay here. Pumbaa, think we can beat our last score for Bowling for Hyenas?"
"Sure," agreed the larger mammal, realizing what his friend was planning. "Ready?"
"Charge!" the meerkat announced, the shout rising above the sounds of the storm and synchronizing with the warthog's burst of speed forward. "Yaaahhh!"
The trio of hyenas snapped their heads up at the unexpected noise, their paws and muzzles coated in mud. The most insane-looking one responded with a rather crazed-sounding bout of laughter. The female turned, spotted the charging warthog, and grew angry and frustrated.
"Not them again," she snarled. "Banzai. Ed. Move."
The third hyena started, "No way. I almost have…" He stopped, recognizing the presence of "Mr. Pig" and turned around, "Time to go."
"That's it. We're moving somewhere without crazy, power-hungry lions and crazier, attacking warthogs," the female ranted. "Somewhere with food. And lots of it."
"And stay out," Timon shouted after them as it became clear they were truly leaving, abandoning the hard-to-reach meal of meerkats in the face of actual opposition. Nodding to himself in satisfaction, he slid off Pumbaa to the ground. "Nice going, buddy."
"No problem," the warthog answered instantly. "This was your home once and they needed help."
As the meerkat looked over the torn up, muddy ground and the hyena-created holes, he couldn't help pondering Pumbaa's words. Once, this particular stretch of tunnel-filled earth was his home? No, not really. He was born and raised here, but it wasn't really home. He never felt like he belonged here. And, besides Ma and Uncle Max, they didn't really feel like family. The oasis, the lush jungle he stayed in with Pumbaa and Simba, felt more like home. But it only felt like that when he had the two mammals with him. It was a beautiful place and it had everything he'd ever wanted, including open space and safety. It was everything that this location wasn't. And yet, once he was left alone without a certain warthog and lion, it felt empty and pointless. Home, and Hakuna Matata, is where you're at your happiest and his happiness depended on being with those important to him.
Well, all he could hope was that having Pumbaa around still, along with the entire colony, would be enough. Maybe they could help make the oasis feel like home again.
Raising his voice, Timon called out, "Hey, guys. The coast is clear. You can come out now."
Unsurprisingly, none of the meerkats hiding in the mostly dug-out holes was eager to poke their noses out. This gave Ma and Uncle Max an opportunity to catch up and see the destroyed landscape. The maternal meerkat covered her mouth in horror at the large sections of uncovered tunnels and torn up mounds of dirt. Hardly anyone ever considered the idea of a predator being hungry and desperate enough to follow them down the holes, digging them out of the safety of their burrows. Of course, such thoughts would have sent them into a panic since it took away the security of their only safety measure.
"Hey, any of you not eaten?" he called, only half-joking. "If you're still alive, get out here now. If you don't, I'll make you. Don't make me put in another skylight."
Hesitantly, a head poked out of a dug out hole, the one Banzai was busy with earlier, and the meerkat timidly asked, "Timon? Aren't you dead?"
"Yes, I'm dead. That's way I'm standing here talking to you," he replied, rolling his eyes.
"You're not dead, Timon. And how would you be able to talk to him if you were?" asked Pumbaaa, utterly confused.
Slapping his paw across his face, Timon mumbled, "We really need to teach you the concept of sarcasm."
"But you left the colony and no one has heard from you since," the cringing meerkat. "None of the other colonies mentioned you joining them or you starting a new one. And everyone knows you don't display much common sense. We figured you were eaten within a week, even after that monkey talked to your mother and she hit him with a stick for using metaphors."
"I took care of myself just… Wait, she hit the crazy monkey? Go Ma," he commented. "Anyway, I found a nice, dangerous-predator-free, bug-filled place to live with my pal, Pumbaa." Timon patted the warthog's side. The other meerkat stared at the large creature uneasily. "And I've decided to take you guys there."
A couple more meerkats poked their head out and looked at him like he was utterly crazy. They weren't quite willing to admit that moving as a good idea. A mass evacuation to an unknown location, leaving the relative safety of the tunnels, seemed ludicrous to them. If they were dealing with predators currently, they could hardly imagine the dangers of being out in the open.
"Look, you almost got eaten just moments ago. If me and Pumbaa didn't chase them off, you would have been hyena chow," Timon explained. "All of you are cowering in a hole, living your lives in pure terror and paranoia, and it still isn't enough to keep you safe. Now, you can either come with us to paradise with the protection of a big guy who repels predators while most of the animals are gone or you can stay here in the destroyed tunnels and hope that if you sniff, scurry, and flinch, you'll not be eaten by hungry carnivores until the next one decides to try digging. Which do you think is the better choice?"
The collection of meerkats remained silent for a while, the rain providing the only sound. They were, however, slowly creeping out of the remnants of the tunnels. As they stood in the mud and downpour, Timon realized he didn't recognize some of the younger ones. The fact he couldn't identify them helped drive in the message that he'd been gone for a fairly long time. Life had continued in his absence. As Ma began counting the individuals, reassuring herself that the hyenas had been driven off in time, his mind began to wonder. Was this how Simba felt returning to his old pride, seeing how much had changed and how many new faces had been added to their ranks? Did this make him feel like he didn't belong anymore? Like he might be taking on a role that he wasn't quite right for? Of course, Timon only had to lead the colony to their new home; Simba had to lead the pride for the rest of his life. The meerkat had it easy.
Hesitantly, one of the younger members of the colony took a step forward and remarked quietly, "I… I'll come with you. You and your friend," he glanced at Pumbaa quickly before continuing, "saved me from that hyena by showing up when you did. I say we should give you a chance. We should go with you."
Timidly, another meerkat took a step forward. And then another. One by one, they all stepped forward with differing levels of tentativeness, the movement declaring that they were choosing to follow him. They were willing to take the risk of traveling since their current home had proven to be as imperfect a defense as any other strategy to survive. They, at least cautiously, trusted him and Pumbaa with their lives.
"Okay," Timon stated finally. "Stay close to the warthog at all times. Pumbaa generally keeps carnivores away; his aroma is not the most appetizing to them. Plus, most of the animals are busy right now with the dead vegetation forcing them to move on or die. Still, no wandering off from the group. And the first mammal to ask 'are we there yet' will have to walk behind Pumbaa. Got it?"
He stared at the sky, studying the twinkling lights that interrupted the endless night sky. Regardless of whether they were balls of gas, great kings of the past, or fireflies, they were a relaxing sight and he really needed that sense of calm. Traveling with a large number of overly cautious and terrified meerkats was rather stressful. Especially once they reached the desert and they required repeated reassurance that there was a safe haven on the other side. But, once they reached the lush forest oasis, things seemed to improve. True, it took plenty of convincing to make them understand that they didn't need tunnels here (they were harder to dig with all the tree roots anyway). But they were slowly growing more relaxed. The younger ones were playing and exploring the area, no longer flinching at every sound. Even the older and less adaptive meerkats were enjoying the large selection and availability of bugs. For the most part, they agreed that the move was the best thing they ever did. Several of them were even referring to him as a hero, which was a nice ego boost. So why did he feel so unsatisfied with his life again? Why couldn't he just be happy with what he had?
Timon rolled over slightly, looking towards Pumbaa. While the warthog seemed to enjoy having so many more animals around who wouldn't flee from his stench, he was just as discontent as the meerkat. Both of them knew what was missing from their lives, but neither of them would admit it. Besides, even if they were willing to say exactly what they needed to have as part of lives, it really was no longer an option for them. Their trio truly was down to two. And they would have to accept that.
"So what are you boys doing up here?" asked Ma abruptly, joining them on the grass-covered hillside.
"Nothing. Just looking at the sky," answered Pumbaa.
Lying down beside them, ironically in the exact spot Simba would have occupied, she remarked, "It is pretty. Especially with all the stars. They look sort of like fireflies, don't they?"
"Told you so," Timon smirked, glancing towards the warthog.
"So," she began. "Tell me what's wrong."
"What? Nothing's wrong, Ma," answered her son quickly. "Why would you think something's wrong?"
"Timon, I'm your mother. I can always tell when you're upset. And your friend, Pumbaa, isn't that great at hiding his feelings either," she explained before giving the larger mammal an apologetic glance. "No offense."
"None taken," the warthog responded.
"My point is that you should be happy. You have a home exactly like you always described. You have the respect of the entire colony. You have very pretty girls like Chiku and Kaisa who are very interested in getting to know you better. You have a loyal friend," she described. "And yet the both of you are up here, alone and looking like you lost something important." The maternal meerkat paused, "Do you want to explain about the lion? The one on the rock the day we found you both? I can tell that he's important to you. He was the reason you were in the middle of that fight, wasn't he?"
Timon stared at her in shock. Granted, he hadn't really been hiding anything during that time period. Especially when he and Pumbaa watched him ascended Pride Rock, both of them extremely proud of the kid. But he still didn't expect Ma to realize the truth. No meerkat would actually consider taking care of a lion cub. They wouldn't automatically assume that Simba was important to the pair. On the other paw, she was fairly used to his particular eccentricities. He might as well tell her the full story.
Besides, it might be nice to share a few of the kid's more interesting childhood exploits.
So, slowly and carefully, the meerkat began to thoroughly describe everything that happened since the day he left the colony. Pumbaa chipped in on various points, adding details his friend might have missed. They described their search for a perfect home and discovering the lion cub. The pair noted a number of misadventures the kid caused, chuckling at the memories. Eventually, they came to the part where Nala arrived. Then, they had to explain the complicated past of Simba's family. They finished by summarizing the fight that she at least partially witnessed and their decision to leave afterwards.
Once they finished, Ma sat up and stared at the pair. She gave her son and the warthog an expectant look.
"So what are you waiting for?"
"What?" Timon asked, confused by her question.
"Why are you still here? It's obvious that neither of you are happy right now. But when you talk about Simba… Well, I get the feeling I already have the only grandchild I'm ever going to have," she clarified. "You miss him. Just like I missed you when you left. And… even thought I know you can stand on your own paws now, you're not as certain about your kid being okay. You want to be with Simba. And you should be there."
Struggling to close his gapping mouth, the younger meerkat stammered, "B-but… he's not… grandchild…what? Ma, he doesn't need us anymore. And I just helped you, Uncle Max, and the rest of the colony to move here."
"And we'll still be here whenever you need us," she interrupted. "But you were always a little different. You never felt like you belonged and you're outgrown the role of simply being my little Timmy. As odd as it might sound, I think you would be happier with your pride of lions, with Simba, than you would be here." She reached over and absently flattened his hair. "And I'm sure he still needs you. I can't imagine that being king is easy. He'll need someone around who cares about him, knows him better than anyone else. You and Pumbaa raised him since he was a cub, right? You were there for him during the good times and the bad, doing your best to help him the entire time. Why should you stop being there for him when he needs it?" She stepped back, looking at him intently, "You're welcome to stay with us. This was your home first. But I want you to be happy." She gave Pumbaa a smile. "Both of you." She pulled her son into a hug, "Just remember: I'll always be proud of you and, regardless of where you go, I'll always be your mother. And I'll always love you."
"Thanks, Ma," he smiled.
"Yeah," sniffed Pumbaa, scooping them together with a hoofed foreleg and giving them a hug of his own. "Thanks, Timon's mother."
Timon struggled out of the group hug eventually. And, with his sights set on Pride Rock, he felt better than he had in a while. Even if it turned out that Ma was wrong and the kid didn't need their help, the prospect of seeing Simba again was lifting their spirits. They would be surrounded by loads of predators again, but it would be completely worth it.
The meerkat climbed up on Pumbaa's back, grinning, "Come on. Let's go home."
Okay, the next time chapter might be a while. I'll have to do a little planning since it covers a time period between the first and second movie (when Kiara was born, Zira and her lionesses getting kicked out, and other events we don't know much about). Plus, I plan to do a little more research about the aging rate of lions. Wish me luck.