Another chapter in place. This one will have the view point of a character other than Timon, Simba, or Pumbaa at one point. I prefer focusing on them, but I have to deal with a gap and had to use another character. I also had to make up a few things to fill in some gaps, but nothing too outrageous and destructive to canon. I just had to deal with the whole Zira banishment issue somehow. It also makes things a little sad near the end of the chapter.
Love the feedback so far. It makes me smile. Feel free to keep reviewing.
He stared out across the Pridelands, dawn barely beginning to creep over the horizon. The rains had finally stopped falling constantly. The grass was growing back and the herds were gradually returning. But they couldn't hunt too much yet. Nala and his mother were helping to keep the lionesses from taking too much prey, but the felines were still going to sleep hungry quite often. Things were improving, but not instantly. And all the concerns about keeping this balance and dealing with all the chaos left from Scar's rule were sitting firmly on his shoulders.
Simba shook his head, his mane whipping around, as he tried to clear his mind. He might be Mufasa's son and the one true king, but he couldn't help wondering if he could live up to his father's example. He didn't know how to rule. At least, he didn't know how to be a ruler like his father would be. He was just a cub when he left these lands. And things were left so bad after Scar's reign, even though they were improving. How was he supposed to take care of the entire pride and live up to his father's memory? He was only one lion.
In the short time he'd been home, he'd grown to appreciate Zazu's presence and actually respect "Mr. Banana Beak." The bird's skill at organizing, his ability to keep track of various aspects of the Pridelands, an immense knowledge of the laws and traditions of the kingdom, and his general reliability as an advisor was a greater help than he could possibly have imagined. It almost made him regret using the avian as a target when he practiced his pouncing as a cub.
And he needed all the help he could get. The pride had grown some since he left. A few new lionesses had been brought into the group during Scar's time as rule, increasing the number of mouths that needed to be fed with the limited prey. One in particular was troubling. Zira, who had been leading a small hunting party during the battle, claimed to have been Scar's queen. Others denied her claim, but they did admit that her year-old son, Nuka, was his cub. The other lionesses also say that Scar had been unhappy with the rather unintimidating feline and would not consider Nuka as his heir. In order to give him a proper successor, she hunted down the strongest rogue she could find. The visibly pregnant female was trouble; Simba could feel it. But he couldn't quite make himself chase her out of the pride simply because she had been close to Scar. As a child, he cared for his uncle too. He would just have to watch her, and possibly the lionesses closest to her, carefully.
And Zira wasn't the only lioness expecting cubs. This was all the more reason to be concerned about their food supply. They needed more food than normal to ensure the cubs were healthy. It was yet another factor for him to worry about and he didn't know how he was going to solve it.
A soft scraping noise not caught the lion's attention and pulled him from his contemplation. Turning his head, Simba spotted a rather large and rotting log being rolled and shoved up the side of Pride Rock. Quietly, he climbed to his feet and stared at the puzzling sight. Who or what would be moving that up here, especially so early in the morning? It didn't make sense to the king.
As the log reached the top of the incline, a tired-sounding groan emerged from behind it. Even stranger, Simba recognized the source of the sound.
"Can we rest now, Timon? That was heavier than I thought it would be."
"Pumbaa?" the lion asked, stunned. "Timon?"
In response to his question, a very familiar warthog and meerkat poked their heads over the large log and smiled at him cheerfully. Simba couldn't help smiling in return. After his defeat of Scar and taking up his rightful role as king, his friends had vanished. No one had eaten them; they had just left. His mother had mentioned speaking with them and she claimed they had not seemed upset with him. Simba had finally decided that they simply chose to go back home. After all, it wasn't like he could expect them to want to live with him while they were surrounded by carnivores. The other animals accepted lions ruling over them because they were strong enough to enforce the peace among the species, to maintain a proper balance in the circle of life, and they would only attack them while actively hunting. But even the most accepting animal would not choose to live in the same den as those who would like to eat them. He should have known they would leave him after he became king. They had a life before him and they could continue without him. There was no real reason why they should give up a carefree lifestyle in paradise to stay with him here.
And yet, here they were. They were standing on Pride Rock with him. For some strange reason, they came back. It was such a reassuring feeling to have them nearby again. They may not be the most powerful, the fastest, or even the most cunning creatures on the Serengeti, but they were true friends that he could depend on. He relied on their presence most of his life; they kept him too distracted during the day to consider any old memories and they kept the nightmares at bay at night by staying near him as he slept. Somehow, the odd pair of mammals made his painful childhood easier to bear. And having them back again made the role of being king seem mildly easier.
If they could manage to help take care of him until he grew up, surely he can find a way to do something he was born to do.
"Hey, kid," Timon greeted awkwardly, scrambling over the log. "Or… I mean… Your Majesty?"
Simba shook his head, "Don't worry about it too much. Just call me 'Simba.' I'm not quite used to the whole 'king' thing yet anyway."
"Got it," the meerkat nodded. He gestured at the log, "We figured that, since the herds are starting to return, things would be getting better around here. But, just in case, we brought a portable lunch. There are plenty of grubs in there and we'd be happy to dig up some more. Of course, if the lionesses are anything like you was when we first met you, it might take a little convincing."
"Our bug-hunting skills are at your command," Pumbaa remarked, climbing over the log as he spoke.
The lion couldn't believe what he was hearing. The pair had apparently dragged a whole log up here so that his pride could eat. His best friends had reappeared in his life and immediately offered to help with one of his current problems. Not that he would likely have much luck at talking the lionesses into eating bugs. They were no longer that badly off. But the fact Timon and Pumbaa decided to do this was rather heart-warming.
"Thanks, guys," he answered finally. "I don't think they would be interested in having grubs, but I'll make the offer. And it is good to see you both again."
"Yeah, well…" mumbled the meerkat, rubbing the back of his head. "We sort of… missed you too."
"I never thought I'd get to see you two again," the lion continued. "You just… left without saying anything."
"Well, we're back and willing to help in any way we can, Simba," declared Timon. "As long as you need us, we'll stay."
"No matter what," Pumbaa added firmly.
Before he could respond to that rather comforting declaration of support, he caught sight of a blue shape flying towards him. Noticing his shift in attention, his friends turned and spotted the approaching bird.
"Sire, I…" Zazu began before spotting the other two animals present. "I remember you two interlopers. You were present during coup before making yourselves scarce. When did you return?"
"Just now," answered Timon shortly. "And who exactly are you? I thought you were just some dumb bird who somehow managed to get caught they planned to eat."
Ruffling his feathers slightly at the dismissal of his importance, the avian explained, "I am the king's majordomo." Noticing the blank expression on everyone's face, including Simba, he clarified, "I'm his main advisor. I help keep everything in order and to assist the king in making informed decisions concerning the ruling of the kingdom. Just as I did for Mufasa before him."
"Well, we're the ones who are responsible for you even having a king in the first place," the meerkat bragged, meeting Zazu's pride with his own ego. "If it wasn't for us, you'd still have Scar running the place."
Simba could already tell that the organized and proper hornbill was going to have a little difficulty dealing with his worry-free friends. Still, it would be completely worth any of the likely arguments between the bird and meerkat if it meant he was able to keep his friends around.
"They are also," the lion remarked, interrupting the brewing tension between Timon and Zazu, "my new advisors for all things dealing with Hakuna Matata."
"W-what?" stuttered the hornbill, his beak dropping in surprise.
The meerkat, confused for only a moment, quickly followed Simba's line of thought and explained, "Of course we are. You get to help him with all the boring stuff and we handle the fun half. You advise him on how to take care of the Pridelands and we'll advise him on how to take care of himself."
"You surely jest, sire," Zazu suggested hopefully.
"No, I'm completely serious," the lion remarked.
Pumbaa, in one of his moment of unusual insight, stated, "You'll be bringing him plenty of stuff he has to worry about. That's your job and his job is to worry about it. But you can't always worry about everything. It would be too hard. That's what we'll be doing. We'll get to help make sure Simba gets to be worry-free sometimes too."
"Sire, are you sure about this?" the avian asked.
"Yes, Zazu," he confirmed. "I need them around."
"Then I guess we're staying," announced Timon, sounding rather pleased about the situation. "Just make sure that everyone knows that me and Pumbaa aren't on the menu."
"I think we can do that," remarked Nala, stepping out of the cave and joining them in the early morning light.
The meerkat and warthog stared at the lioness in shock when they caught sight of her. They had met her before, but there was a rather important difference now. While she was not quite as far along as Zira, she was clearly expecting to have cubs in the near future.
Quietly, Timon muttered, "Oh boy."
She stared at her newborn cubs, tired but satisfied with what she saw. Even blind and helpless, these young animals held more promise than Nuka appeared to at birth. Especially the dark-furred male. He would be a truly worth heir to Scar.
Zira remembered the day she met him. He was a intriguing and dangerous creature. He was cunning, ruthless, and there was an inescapable darkness within Scar that she couldn't resist. When he allowed her into the pride, she decided to find a way to get close to him. In time, he made her queen in all but name, promising to make it official if she gave him what he wanted most. She was loyal to him without question, offering to provide him a worthy son, by any means necessary. When he rejected Nuka, she decided to find the best father to try again, to seek out a lion who might lack Scar's cunning, but would make up for it with pure strength. She would give him the perfect heir, even if it meant the cub would come from a wandering rogue.
At first, Scar had been angry by the idea she would seek out another. But, once she explained she chose a particularly strong lion to ensure the most powerful cub possible, describing the size and strength of the rogue, and that she would mold him to follow in Scar's paw prints, the dark-maned lion agreed she might have been right. She remembered the dangerous creature commenting quietly about her growing stomach, stating that the second-born would once again take power. Even before she gave birth, he promised her child would rule after him. He claimed his heir.
But he never lived to see the cub or his sister. Simba murdered him. He came and killed that magnificent, dark creature. She could feel herself growing more tense, regardless of how exhausted she felt, at the memory of returning from the another failed hunt to learn how Simba tossed Scar off of Pride Rock for the fire and hyenas to consume him. He might as well have ripped out his throat himself. That smug murderer, playing the part of the returning hero with his pretty little queen preparing to give birth to cubs who would undoubtedly be just as unworthy as their father, stood there acting completely innocent of his crimes. He killed Scar and stole what belonged to that dark creature's place as king. Even worse, most of the lionesses felt the red-maned lion's actions were a good idea.
Most, but not all. She had her supporters, those who were still uncertain of their new ruler. Other former-rogue lionesses and even a few who were born into the pride who did not remember the days before Scar, they did not know what to think about this lion. Simba might once have lived here, but he'd been gone a long time. He was essentially a stranger to them and a rather odd one. He welcomed in that warthog and meerkat into the pride, treating them as dear friends while food was still scarce. True, the herds were returning, but it still seemed like a strange thing to do. And when he remarked that, if anyone wished to, he could show them how to supplement their diet with bugs, Simba became even more unusual in their eyes. Zira took steps to whisper sweet words into receptive ears, feeding the doubts and concerns about the new king. She turned a select group of lionesses to her way of thinking, describing Simba as a usurper. She muttered rumors and half-truths slowly until they saw her as their true queen. And they would see her son, chosen by Scar himself, as the true ruler.
Already her mind was turning, seeking a way to make Simba pay for murdering her precious Scar and to ensure that her son would be king. She was so tired at the moment, it was hard to think or move too much… An idea began to bloom in the dark recesses of her mind. A way to make him suffer. A guarantee that Simba's heir would never rule. Yes… It would work. She would have to wait, bide her time until the moment was at hand. She had to wait anyway. It would be quite some time until her cubs were old enough to show to her loyal lionesses. She would use the promise of her son's existence to unite them behind her idea. She would regain her strength and prepare for her chance to avenge Scar's demise.
Zira gave her tiny, blind, and helpless cubs a small lick on their heads. The female, lighter in fur than her littermate, squeaked softly at the contact. She would be Vitani. Her brother wiggled under the Zira's rough tongue. He would be called Kovu. This young lion would someday be their king, ruler of the Pridelands, and a worthy successor to Scar. He was their future.
Slowly, the utter terror of living around so many predators was lessening. Simba made in clear very early on that no one would be allowed to eat his friends, so they should be relatively safe. The knowledge that the kid would protect him from becoming a meal was a definite reassurance, but the increased number of animals returning to the swiftly-recovering Pridelands was a greater comfort. The more options available, the less likely the lionesses would be tempted. Still, Timon couldn't help wondering if he'd ever feel completely comfortable here, regardless of the fact such ease would undoubtedly be another sign of him being abnormal.
At least some aspects of his and Pumbaa's new lifestyle were becoming easier to accept. It was impossible to remain completely in denial about the kid's diet when they were surrounded by hunting lionesses. The pair was finally forced to admit and deal with the fact he was truly a carnivore. Honestly, it wasn't as hard as it could have been. They mostly just tried to keep a distance and not look too closely during dinner time.
Actually, there were plenty of times they tried not to get too close to the felines. Some, especially early on, stared at them hungrily. They watched Pumbaa like he was freshly-prepared dinner and Timon was dessert. That one lioness, Zira, and her buddies seemed particularly frustrated by the command not to eat the pair. Honestly, the meerkat was glad the birth of her cubs diverted her attention for a time. She had a creepy glare.
Timon snuck a glance at her. The lioness had found a fairly secluded niche to have her cubs, giving the young lions some privacy until they opened their eyes and started stumbling around on the own paws. Now, she'd carried the pair of little fuzzy felines out into public, showing them off to her close friends. Others in the pride came to congratulate her, but those not within her inner circle were met with a gruff acknowledgement and little more. Only those closest to Zira were spoken to long by the mother. Even the queen, an expectant mother herself, received only a short thanks for her compliment of the cubs.
Nala was a rather uneasy topic for the meerkat. Granted, she was one of the very small number of the felines Timon felt reasonably certain wouldn't eat him in the middle of the night, the others being Simba and his rather nice mother. On the other paw, his first encounter with the lioness involved her trying to digest Pumbaa. That rather bad first impression did not improve as Simba fell for her, dragging the kid away from them and back to his old life. Like it or not, she brought change to them. She took their Hakuna Matata lifestyle and tossed it away. It might be petty to blame her for everything, but he wanted to blame someone.
She also proved, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that Simba was all grown up. The kid was going to have cubs of his own now, which Timon still felt was hard to believe. No doubt Pumbaa would be eager to see their cubs when they were born, just as the warthog was admiring Zira's at a safe distance currently. And yet, Timon saw it simply as more proof that the kid really didn't need them as much anymore.
Whether or not he liked it, Simba was grown up. He was king. He was starting a family of his own. The lion cub they found in the desert could stand on his own paws. But, until the day he asked them to leave, Timon planned to never abandon their kid again. He missed him too much. Even if they were practically useless and Simba only gave them a title to make them feel welcome, he wanted to stay.
"Timon, do you think she'll ever let us near those cute cubs?" Pumbaa asked hopefully, indicating the fuzzy little figures.
He glanced at Zira and shrugged, "Don't know. Maybe she'll relax later."
She felt completely drained of energy, but happy. Tucked away in the cozy crevice, Nala was alone with only the small and beautiful pair of cubs for company. A boy and girl, she already loved the newborn creatures and knew that Simba would love them just as much. He was gone, investigating a rogue lion Zira claimed to have spotted in the Pridelands. The other lionesses were hunting under Sarabi's guidance. Already in the process of giving birth, Nala had assured Simba she'd be all right and for him to take care of his responsibilities. And he would have a lovely pair of young cubs to come back to.
The new mother nuzzled the small creatures tiredly. Yes, they were beautiful and she loved them. They still needed names, however. She turned her attention first to her son. Perhaps Kopa…
Her ears twitched as she heard a soft sound outside. She lifted her head and turned towards where the light streamed in between two stones. A head appeared in the opening, red eyes peering down at the young mother and the cubs.
"Zira?" she remarked, confused by the lioness' presence. Nala wasn't particularly fond of her; she had been far too close to Scar for that. But several other lionesses were close to her, so the queen had to be at least semi-civil towards her. "What's going on?"
"A wandering rogue lion is about, my queen," she explained, something in her tone sounding rather ominous. "A fairly dangerous one, it would seem."
Nala nodded, "You mentioned that to Simba. He's investigating it."
"It is so sad though," Zira continued. "I'm sorry no one made it back in time, however."
"In time for what?"
"In time to stop the rogue from doing this," snarled the lioness, diving towards the mother and cubs.
Limited in space and struggling through shock, Nala was barely able to prevent Zira from biting her throat out. Claws extended, fangs bared, the young mother fought against the traitor to protect her life and those of the tiny crying cubs below. Zira was relentless, scratching and biting at the queen while trying to get to the newborns. And that was one thing that she would not allow to happen, regardless of how tired she might be.
Nala's teeth closed on Zira's ear momentarily, tearing a chunk loose. The attacking lioness snarled in pain and fury, smacking the queen in the head with her paw. The impact knocked her into the rock sides of her cozy den, mildly stunning the queen. In that brief moment, Zira's head jerked downwards and Nala heard a horrifying crunch.
A more wonderful sound, a familiar roar, echoed through the entire area. A large paw dug claws into Zira's back and ripped her out of the den, along with the broken bundle of fur in her mouth. Nala sat there, breathing heavily from the fight on top of everything else that she'd experienced that day, and listened to the furious yelling of Simba. She could hear the lion attacking the lioness while Zira screamed at him for killing Scar, claiming that he had no right to be king. Other voices, the lionesses returning from the hunt, joined in on the attack. Some were agreeing with Zira while most were just as angry as Simba. She could hear him banishing the traitor and her followers, promising to do worse if he ever saw her again. Nala could hear it all, but all she could see was the image of Zira holding that limp and still form in her teeth as Simba ripped her out of the den. Her cub…
The sounds of furious felines began to grow fainter, as if the traitors were being chased towards the border of the Pridelands and beyond. Anyone who followed that vile lioness would never be allowed here again, but it didn't change what happened. Her cub was gone forever. She couldn't protect him. He never even had the chance to open his eyes, to grow up, to live. She didn't even name him yet. Nala cried softly to herself, hurt by the loss and disappointed in herself for not preventing.
Another soft sound pierced through the lioness' sorrow, pulling her attention back her surroundings. Low voices spoke to each other, the words too soft for her to hear properly. Not wanting to see anyone after what just happened, she laid her head on her paws and shut her eyes tiredly.
A small scurrying noise approached her, drawing her attention. Nala reluctantly looked at the source of the sound, feeling mildly shocked by what she saw. Carefully approaching her was Timon. The meerkat might be Simba's friend, but he and Pumbaa still tended to be cautious of the other members of the pride. And yet, he was coming right over to her with a rather uncomfortable expression.
"Uh… Pumbaa's guarding the entrance," he began awkwardly. "Simba and everyone else are chasing Zira, her kids, and her buddies out of here. I…" He rubbed the back of his head, staring at the ground. "I'm sorry, Nala. I don't know what to say."
"She…killed my cub," she whispered, heart-broken. "And I couldn't stop her."
The meerkat stepped a little closer, resting a paw on the side of her face, "It's not your fault. You can't predict when some psycho decides to go completely bonkers." He sighed tiredly, "We're not the closest, are we? I mean, you don't seem to look at me as dinner and you're really important to Simba, but you don't know much about me or vice versa, right?"
"No," the lioness answered, noticing that he was trying to distract her.
"I was the biggest freak in the whole colony. Not a hint of natural instincts and I eventually left the place because I wanted something better. But before I left, when I was growing up, I actually had a few older siblings," he remarked quietly. "I didn't get to know them very well, though. There are plenty of predators out there and most of them see meerkats as dinner. That's probably why Ma was so protective of me even after I grew up. She had to watch most of her pups end up being eaten when they didn't escape down a tunnel soon enough. I know it broke her heart every time, but she always managed not to dwell on it. She couldn't. She still had to take care of her remaining kids. And when I was the only one left, she did everything she could to keep me close and safe. Even if I felt like she was suffocating me sometimes." Timon looked up at her, "I know you're hurt, Nala. You didn't deserve this. But, unless my eyes are deceiving me, there's still one cub here who needs you."
He was right. The horror and pain of losing one of her newborns made her nearly forget the presence of her second one. Her daughter, curled up in a little ball and not making a sound, was still here. Nala leaned over and gave the cub a lick on her head. Her son might be gone, but she her daughter was safe. She couldn't dwell on the loss; she needed to take care of the cub she still had. Kiara, her beautiful daughter. Yes, the name Kiara would work well.
"Thank you," she whispered. "Thank you for reminding me of what's important."
Timon nodded, "Glad I could help. Not that I'm any good at this sort of thing, but I had to try. The only other animal available would be Pumbaa and, as nice a guy as he is, I don't know if this sort of thing would be something he could handle." The meerkat started back towards the entrance, remarking, "But, once Simba Junior starts wandering around, he tends to make a fairly effective babysitter and we'll be happy to help out. And we'll keep anything like this from ever happening again."
That last statement was spoken with a rather sharper tone than she ever expected to hear from such a small mammal. It sounded sort of… parental. Nala began to understand, to truly comprehend how much the pair of prey animals had cared for Simba, and his family by extension. Regardless of the food chain or size difference, there was a protective nature exhibited by them when she knew where to look for it. She could see why Simba held so much trust and respect for him and Pumbaa.
As soon as she was alone with her daughter again, she murmured softly, "Everything will be all right, Kiara. Someday, you'll grow up to be the most wonderful lioness in the pride. You'll be strong and brave as your father. Though, I hope you'll take after me in fighting," she chuckled, some of the pain easing with the fond memory of her continuous defeats of Simba. "And you'll have so many who will love you. Not just me and your father, but your entire family. Even the odd ones."
Okay, first off, I want to make sure this is clear. There is absolutely no concrete evidence that Kiara ever had a sibling, let alone that Zira killed the other cub. But lions tend to have multiple cubs per litter (ranging between one and four with three being the average) and it would certainly explain why her family is so protective of Kiara. Not just Simba, but even Timon displayed some rather over-protective traits early in "Lion King 2," worrying about her getting a hangnail and tried to shade the cub. Plus, this particular scenario even explains the notch in Zira's ear.
And I also took a brief moment to explain Ma's smothering, protective nature towards Timon too. Again, meerkats tend to have multiple pups rather than a single one. And since they are a paranoid group who, as Uncle Max put it, is seen as food for everyone, there is such a fairly good chance that some might have been eaten.
Other facts about lions include the fact their pregnancy lasts 110 days. The lionesses will generally give birth in a secluded location and not integrate their offspring into the rest of the pride immediately. The cubs' eyes don't open until a week after birth and they begin walking at three weeks. They begin displaying stalking behavior at three months and start participating in hunts at a year old, only becoming effective at it around 2 years old. The males mature at three years old.
All of this means that the presentation at the beginning of the different movies had to happen when the cubs was at least a week old, if not a little older. It also means that Simba ran away and Kiara met Kovu at around three months old. Just in case you're interested in knowing that.
Finally, Kopa is the name of a cub from a series of books based off the first movie prior to the sequel coming out. It is completely disregarded by the movies and can't really be considered canon in any fashion, way, or form. I just included the name in briefly as a reference.