Now that we're past the movies, things should be getting closer to where this story started. I hope you like where this story heads now that we've left behind the films. Enjoy.
Once more, things were going well for the pride. They still had Simba as their king, the psycho wasn't going to be bothering them again, and now the former Outlanders were back on their side. Add in the happy ending of Kiara and Kovu, who were completely in love with each other, and Timon would have to call things almost perfect. The cute young couple was rather reminiscent of Simba and Nala. This similarity and the general positive turn events had taken lately made the meerkat feel optimistic about the future.
From his current spot, resting comfortably on Pumbaa's back, he could observe the two pairs quite easily. Simba was curled up in the sunlight, his queen right next to him. The lion rested one paw on hers, a small smile across his face. Nala leaned towards him, looking rather content herself. The older pair watched their daughter and the love of her life, possibly noticing the similarities that Timon was. While Kovu tried to sleep in the warm sunlight, Kiara was carefully brushing his nose with her paw. She smiled every time he sleepily tried to knock away whatever was tickling him.
"I rather enjoy this," remarked a familiar voice. The meerkat barely reacted when Sarabi joined him and Pumbaa. The elderly lioness was a little slower and stiffer in her movements than before, but she was still an active member of the pride when she wanted to be. Smiling gently, she clarified, "Watching young love is so satisfying. We knew Nala and Simba were perfect for each other even when they were cubs. I'm glad his daughter found someone equally ideal."
"Yeah, they look so happy together," remarked Pumbaa. "All of them."
She nodded, "I'm glad for them. They remind me of how Mufasa and I used to be like together. It makes me feel young again."
"You're not that old," Timon assured the rather nice parent of the king. "You still run around the Pridelands fairly well and do a better job than most of these young lionesses. Besides, you should meet my Uncle Max. He's older and more paranoid than anyone else in the entire colony."
"Uncle Max?" she asked, sounding amused. "Your family from before you joined us?"
"Yeah, him and Ma are now back at the nice jungle oasis we used to share with Simba. We moved the whole colony there after we kicked Scar and his hyenas off the rock," he explained. "I haven't seen them since."
The feline remarked, "You haven't seen your mother since that point? Why not?"
"We've been busy," Pumbaa explained.
"And it is kind of a long trip," Timon continued.
"I'm certain she would love to see her son again," Sarabi stated. "Any parent wants to see their children happy, to see how their entire family is prospering."
Considering her words carefully, the meerkat nodded, "It might be nice to see her again. And maybe Uncle Max has actually learned to relax. A short vacation could be just the thing."
"And maybe Simba could come," suggested Pumbaa.
"And maybe Simba could come," repeated the meerkat. "He needs a vacation from all this ruling stuff. The Pridelands can survive a day or two without him. He needs a little Hakuna Matata time."
"I think he would like that," she answered, turning her head back towards the romantic pairs. "I think your mother might like to meet Simba." Then, so softly that Timon wasn't certain he heard her correctly or if she was actually addressing him, she murmured, "She deserves to meet her grandson."
After a lot of convincing, some arguing with Zazu, and a little assertion of their role as advisors for Hakuna Matata, Timon and Pumbaa managed to get their planned vacation. Even better, Kovu and Kiara were coming along so they could see where Simba grew up. Nala agreed to take care of everything, with the bird and Sarabi's help, in their absence. The queen seemed rather happy to let Simba spend some time with his daughter and husband. She even gave him a small lick on the side of his face before they left.
Before they even left the Pridelands, the meerkat warned the predators that they were heading for a "no hunting zone" and they would be stuck on an all-bug diet for a while. Kiara didn't seem particularly eager about eating grubs, but the trio of lions agreed. With that understanding in place, they began the journey across the desert.
Timon rather enjoyed the stunned and awestruck expressions on the younger felines' faces as they caught sight of the rather impressive jungle oasis. They had never seen anything quite like this piece of paradise. Simba simply looked happy to be back.
"This is amazing," commented Kovu as they stepped past the tree line. "How did you find…"
"Carnivores!" a voice suddenly shrieked.
That single cry sparked off a symphony of panicked yells and the sounds of small creatures scrambling in the undergrowth. Timon, perched on the warthog's back, slapped his forehead. Even if he moved them to the safest location possible, some things never change. And that included the entire species' tendency to freak out if they weren't in a hole.
"Oy," he moaned, rubbing his face. "Did they actually dig tunnels here too? I thought they'd gotten over that." He gave the lions an apologetic grin before yelling towards the surroundings, "They are not here to eat you. We're on a vacation. So stop hiding and get out here already."
A very short pause followed his declaration before a quiet voice responded, "Timon?"
"Hey, Ma," he smiled, sliding off of Pumbaa.
"Timmy,' she called cheerfully, dashing out of whatever tunnel she undoubtedly was hiding in and scooped him into a tight hug, "I've missed you so much."
Struggling in her overly-tight grip, her son gasped, "Choking. Can't breathe."
Letting go finally, his parent gave him a short look over to reassure herself that he was unharmed and gave his hair a quick adjustment. She looked almost exactly how Timon left her. Well, she looked a little older and her fur might have a hint of grey in it, but she still looked like the overprotective and nuturing parent who encouraged him to head back to the Pridelands. Then, the maternal meerkat turned her attention towards the lions. Timon had to give her credit. Ma refused to react negatively to the predators, regardless of the fact most meerkats would be petrified of their presence. Instead, she gave Simba a small smile.
"We never were introduced properly, but I remember seeing you when you became king," she informed the feline. "My son has told me all about you, Simba. And who are these lions with you?"
The king smiled at the female meerkat, "Nice to meet you too. This is my daughter, Kiara."
"And he's Kovu," added Pumbaa helpfully, jerking his head towards the rather bemused dark-manned lion.
"Well isn't that sweet," Ma commented, staring at the young pair knowingly. The older, female meerkat could recognize love as easily as her son could. "You two better hurry up. There's nothing better than having a few grandchildren, great-grandchildren, and even great-great-grandchildren around."
"Ma," Timon moaned as Kiara and Kovu began to look rather uncomfortable.
"What? It isn't like you're going to settle down with a nice girl and have some pups for me to spoil rotten," she pointed out. "The only grandkid I have is Si…"
"Ma," he interrupted, not wanting her to finish that sentence anymore than the younger lions wanted to hear her nag about when they were going to have cubs. "Are you going to be like this our whole visit? You're embarrassing me."
"Sorry," she apologized. "I've just missed you so much. And now you and your friends are here."
"Well, we're going to be here a couple of days," her son remarked. "You'll have plenty of time to nag us. Why don't you go convince the rest of the colony to come out?"
She chuckled, "Sure thing. Your arrival interrupted Uncle Max's yoga, by the way."
Somehow, it didn't seem surprising that Kovu and Kiara were spending most of the time alone together. He didn't blame them. Simba recalled spending some quality time with Nala here once. It had been so amazing, at least until they began bumping heads over the issue of returning to Pride Rock and secrets. The two younger felines should enjoy the moment.
Simba was simply reliving part of his past. Even if most of the meerkats now occupying the oasis preferred to keep their distance, he was taking the opportunity to explore the area with his two closest friends. They had spent most of the day visiting their favorite spots, after Timon managed to get his mother to stop smothering him, asking inquisitive questions of the lion, and sharing yet another story about her precious "Timmy" collapsing a tunnel. Simba was actually beginning to wonder if any of those underground passageways had survived the meerkat's childhood unscathed. As darkness fell, the trio wandered towards a familiar grass-covered hillside and ended up staring at the sky.
"They still look like fireflies to me," the meerkat muttered.
Pumbaa pointed out, "That's an awful lot of them though. Did they all get stuck in the big bluish black thing?"
"Fireflies aren't the smartest bugs. But they are tasty… So, I guess they could get caught up there," Timon stated. "Makes more sense to me than the 'royal dead guys' idea." He gave the lion an apologetic shrug, "Sorry, but it seems a little weird to me, kid. All those twinkling lights are kings of the past?"
"That's what my father told me as a cub," Simba confirmed, only feeling mildly defensive. The meerkat didn't mean to make it sound like Mufasa was crazy. He was just a little blunt with his opinions. The feline continued, "And I've seen enough to things that I don't doubt it."
For a moment, Timon looked like he was going to ask what sort of "things" he'd seen. Thankfully, he didn't. Simba wasn't even certain how he could explain his conversation with him that night, the features of his long-dead father filling the night sky. Even the occasional moment when he felt or heard his presence would likely be met with at least mild doubt. Some things were impossible to believe until you saw them yourself.
The meerkat commented, "It just seems that, while that might be a lot of fireflies to get stuck, kings are even rarer than bugs. And they can't make up all those lights, can they? On really clear nights, there are thousands of those twinkling things up there."
"Well, I don't know what to say, Timon," the lion answered, turning his head back towards the star-filled sky. "But I know that's what happens to great kings of the past."
"So, someday you'll be up there too?" Pumbaa asked, gaining a nod from the feline.
"And, if we follow that logic, so will Kovu," reminded the meerkat. "But not Nala or Kiara."
Simba frowned, never having considered that particular aspect before. The few times he'd really thought about the great kings of the past watching over him from above, he'd never considered the idea beyond a source of guidance and the fact his father had joined them. He'd never thought about how his daughter would never be there, nor would Nala. He knew that both of them were just as good leaders when necessary as any other lion to walk the Serengeti. But they could never be king simply because they were female. Kiara, who helped to bring the Outlanders back to the pride because she was not nearly as blinded by fury and the ghosts of past crimes as he was, would someday be queen and would undoubtedly be just as capable as Kovu at making decisions. But, if what his father told him was true, she could never guide the future generations from the sky.
"Maybe your dad actually meant great royalty of the past," Pumbaa suggested, trying to put a positive spin on the situation. "That would mean that Nala and Kiara could get in."
"Maybe…" Simba answered quietly.
"Fireflies still make more sense," muttered Timon.
Feeling a little annoyed with his friend now, the lion asked, "Then what do you think happens to the kings who are gone? Didn't they ever talk about that sort of thing when you were growing up?"
"Oh yeah, we talked about what happens when someone dies," responded the meerkat a little sarcastically. "It mostly involves being digested. I don't know what happens to kings and I hope it is something nice, but being at the lower end of the food chain tends to leave very little hope for whatever comes afterwards."
That's when another aspect of his father's description of the great kings of the past hit him. Whether he meant just the kings themselves or the royal line in general, it still meant that only lions were included. Regardless of the fact his parent described the importance of every living creature, from the crawling ant to the leaping antelope, only those who were born to rule had a chance to reach the stars. It seemed so odd when he considered how limiting it must truly be for someone to have the right to dwell up there and how many of those twinkling lights there were.
"Besides, don't you find it a little creepy to think about all those dead guys staring down and watching us all the time?" Timon continued. "Keeping an eye on all the new rulers and their buddies? Observing a couple of guys encouraging the future king to shirk all responsibilities? Spotting every mistake they make…" The meerkat voice trailed off and he shook his head. After a moment of uncomfortable silence, he stood up, "Well, as odd as the 'kings of the past' theory is, it is a little better than Pumbaa's burning gas idea. I'm tired. See you two later."
The small mammal wandered back towards the tree line, leaving Simba with a lot to think about.
He really didn't like it. All the calm and relaxation he'd experienced in this place threatened to collapse back into his natural state of panic. Timon might be perfectly content living alongside carnivores, but Max wasn't. Instincts and long experience screamed at the older meerkat to hide. There were three lions walking round the area and he was supposed to simply go with it? No, he couldn't do that. The boy's mother might welcome the felines into the family, but he still thought Timon was crazy to have saved the red-maned lion. It wasn't natural.
At least the younger meerkat wasn't wearing that dress anymore.
Max watched them from a reasonable distance. The lioness and the dark-furred male had vanished deeper into the forest after a playful fight involving splashing each other. The remaining feline, Simba, was curled up next to a particular pool of water and staring at the liquid intently. It was almost like the predator was searching for answers in his reflection. The hunter must be in some rather deep thought this morning. The more suspicious part of the older meerkat's mind suggested the lion was simply hungry.
Pumbaa ran into view, causing Max to flinch. Scurry, sniff, flinch. Some lifelong practices never fade away. Even after living in this safe and beautiful location, the meerkat knew he was a prey animal. All the mammals who lived in the oasis knew it; that's why they still prepared a few tunnels for emergencies. Only Timon seemed to be able to forget it.
Though he couldn't hear the words at this distance, the warthog seemed to be asking the lion something. Pumbaa seemed so enthusiastic and eager to do something. The feline smiled rather warmly, but shook his head. While obviously disappointed, the smaller mammal spoke for a few more moments before heading back into the foliage. And not even for an instant did the warthog seem nervous about being in the lion's presence.
"Figures that Timon would find the only animal as crazy as he is," Max muttered.
He barely had the chance to start contemplating the odds of two prey creatures that were actually insane enough to take in a lion cub actually meeting each other before he spotted another animal approaching the feline. Timon, looking a little guilty in a way similar to how he'd appear after he collapsed yet another tunnel, was moving slowly. The only fear the younger meerkat displayed as he neared the lion was clearly not connected to his physical safety, but emotions instead. The predator stared at Timon tensely, but relaxed as the small animal began to speak.
Once again, Max couldn't hear the words from his position, but he could draw conclusion from their expressions. His odd, tunnel-collapsing, lion-raising nephew was apparently apologizing for something. He was apologizing to a lion. It still seemed so surreal to have his infuriatingly peculiar relative standing next to a predator and the boy's greatest concern had nothing to do with being eaten. Equally as hard for the old meerkat to believe was the lion was responding to the apology with what clearly was a soft mutter without meeting Timon's gaze, peering back towards the pool of water, and not a hint of any type of hunter instinct. It was one thing to theoretically know something and even witness it for a few moments, but it was something entirely different to actually just stand there and watch the natural order of the food chain get tossed aside so clearly. He was too old for this type of weirdness to come easily to him.
The pair of odd creatures continued to speak to each other, Timon looking apologetic and consoling while the feline appeared more distracted and distant. Eventually, the predator looked up and stared at the small creature. The lion didn't quite look mad at the meerkat, but rather confused and disappointed with someone else. But, somehow, the smaller mammal's words seemed to be improving his mood. Of course, considering the fact Timon managed to convince his entire colony to follow him across open ground and a desert to a location they only had his word on concerning its safety, it was apparent that the young meerkat had a talent for persuasion when needed.
Then, with a casualness that Max flinched at, Timon reached over and buried his paw into the feline's thick mane. He did it as calmly as his mother would fix his hair. The young meerkat gently rubbed the lion's head through all that hair, causing the large predator to lean over towards him. Even if he couldn't hear the sound, Max could tell that the feline was purring with enjoyment from the contact. As a result, Timon smiled back.
For just a moment, the older meerkat didn't see the odd pair of predator and prey who refused to fulfill their roles. Instead, the paranoid mammal saw simply a parent and his grown child who still held a hint of the relationship from the past. Though grown and ready to face the world on his own, the child still felt comforted by the presence of his parent and appreciated them. The parent, in return, still loved to know that he was still important in their child's life. Max had seen this sort of thing in the colony before; he was old enough to have seen it several times. But it should seem odd when there pair in question weren't even the same species. And yet, for just a moment, it seemed like the most natural thing in the world.
Then, that instant passed and the old meerkat saw Timon and Simba stand up. The two of them started walking out of sight; possibly to join Pumbaa in whatever activity the warthog was doing. Max shook his head, trying to dismiss the weird feeling watching them at the end had caused. He was too old to change his ways and views of the world. If his nephew wanted to be suicidal and live with the carnivores, that was his business. He was perfectly happy staying in this (normally) predator-free oasis for the rest of his life.
Max didn't want to or need to worry about Simba and Timon. But he was beginning to understand why that crazy meerkat's mother kept talking about the feline like he was her grandchild.
He didn't mean to mess with the kid's faith in his father. Timon wasn't that bad. And he wasn't really trying to poke holes in what Simba believed in, at least not that much. He didn't know why he just wouldn't let the subject drop. Maybe it scared him a little. The idea that all those dead guys were always watching over things, observing his and Pumbaa's floundering attempts to raise someone destined to rule, was a little unnerving. And the concept wasn't as reassuring to the meerkat as it might be to the lion. Simba might draw comfort from the idea of his ancestors watching him from a location he would someday occupy himself. All Timon got from that image was a sky full of dead predators glaring at him for turning the kid into a responsibility-shirking feline until Nala showed up. It was a little worrying, but the old kings would never get the chance to express that displeasure personally since the meerkat didn't qualify for "sparkly-light dead-guy place."
Timon managed to swallow his pride and apologized to the lion. He even managed to reassure the kid that there was probably something good for other dead animals, even if he didn't particularly believe it himself. He had little doubt that he would get killed eventually and likely eaten. Even if he lived with the pride, he was still a tasty little meerkat and other predators still existed. Even while he assured Simba, suggesting he talk to the crazy monkey if he was too worried about it, and encouraged him to join him and Pumbaa for some bug hunting, Timon held no illusions that he wouldn't someday find his demise upon a set of fangs of whatever ate him.
Still, they were moving off of that topic and they spent the rest of their stay trying to return to their old relaxed and casual state. The meerkat wanted to forget about the turn the conversation took that night. By the time they were ready to head back, Timon felt they had managed to put the past behind them.
Kovu and Kiara certainly seemed happy as they left. The pair of felines remained very close to each other as the group ran across the desert. Timon vaguely wondered if Simba should start preparing himself to be a grandfather, but he eventually decided he didn't want to think about it too much. He didn't want to start contemplating whatever those two might have done during the vacation.
But, even after everything that transpired, Timon was willing to consider the trip a success. Getting away from the pride was just what they needed. Without all that stress and responsibility, their trio could get back to the basics. They even managed to get Simba to compete in a few bug eating contests. It was nice, but now they had to return back to their normal lives.
The entire pride was out there waiting for them as they approached Pride Rock. The meerkat, for a moment, thought it might be some form of a welcome back party. Then he noticed the serious expressions of the lionesses.
Nala stepped forward, greeting her family by rubbing her face against theirs. She stayed in contact with the king the longest, far longer than she would have if she'd simply missed them. Something was wrong.
"Simba," she finally remarked, her tone rather quiet and regretful. "I'm sorry. During one of the hunts, there was an accident."
"What happened? Is everyone all right?" the lion asked, concerned.
She was silent for several moments before answering, "Sarabi was trying to bring down one of the herd animals, but the wildebeest ended up kicking her in the head. I'm sorry, Simba. Your mother is dead."
And I'm evil. Sorry, but I've had this in mind for quite a while. And these things happen. It is part of the circle of life and everything.
I also wanted to point out the whole "great kings of the past" afterlife thing and how unfair it seems if you take what Mufasa told Simba perfectly literal. It seems okay when you're just considering dead Mufasa watching over his son. It even seems okay when you consider the day where Kiara and Kovu will someday take over after Simba is gone. It is less okay when you consider the fact that the queens won't get to go there because they're female. And if you don't happen to be a lion, you have absolutely no chance.
Hope that you like what is coming next. Feel free to review. Thanks.