[quote]Story 1:
Untitled: show
Mufasa walked ahead of the two cubs, stomping along through the tall grass in anger. The cubs themselves were following behind Mufasa at a fair distance, with Zazu flying between the cubs and Mufasa.
“Zazu!”
Mufasa’s voice ripped through the empty air.
Zazu flew over to Mufasa and landed on some dirt in front of him.
“Yes sire?”
Zazu was feeling a bit guilty.
“Take Nala home, I’ve got to teach my son a lesson.”
As Mufasa looked over to Simba, Simba crouched down low in the grass, afraid of this ‘lesson’.
Zazu flew in between the two cubs.
“Come Nala.”
Zazu turned to Simba and placed his wings on Simba’s shoulders.
“Simba, good luck.”
Then Zazu flew off with Nala, continuing on the path Mufasa was taking back home.
“Simba!”
Mufasa’s voice ripped through the empty plains again.
As Simba walked over to Mufasa, he almost tripped over a massive paw print left by Mufasa. Simba looked at his paw, then at his father, realising that he was afraid of something after all. Simba continued over to Mufasa, sitting down at his side.
“Simba I’m very disappointed in you.”
If you hadn’t realised it by his words, you would’ve realised Mufasa was disappointed by his tone of voice.
“I know.”
“You could have been killed. You deliberately disobeyed me. And what’s worse! You put Nala In danger!”
Simba struggled to hold back tears.
“But, the elephant graveyard, and you and Uncle Scar told me…”
“What?”
Simba didn’t get to finish his sentence. At the words ‘Uncle Scar’ Mufasa felt like a blindfold that had been on him for two years had finally been taken off.
“What do you mean ‘Uncle Scar’ Simba?”
“H-he told me a-about the g-graveyard and then I wanted to go, it’s not his fault.”
Scar? His brother? Mufasa’s own brother had told Simba about what was there, knowing full well that Simba would most likely go there? Mufasa stopped his lecture.
“I’m sorry Simba, I didn’t know. But you shouldn’t have gone off there, it’s a dangerous place. “
“I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay Simba. Let’s go home, you look shaken up. And I have to talk to Uncle Scar.”
Mufasa continued on his journey back to Pride Rock, this time not stomping around like an elephant, with Simba close behind, not feeling as bad anymore, but still feeling bad.
***
Mufasa approached Scar’s den, unsure of how to handle this. His brother had misled Simba, but Scar was his brother, he couldn’t just treat him like dirt. Mufasa reached the entrance of the little dirty cave Scar called home.
“Scar!”
Mufasa’s voice echoed around the little hole in the rock.
Scar approached the cave entrance, where Mufasa was standing.
“You called?”
“Scar, is it true that you told Simba about the elephant graveyard?”
“Simba knows about this? How does he… how did he find out?”
Scar was acting completely innocent. But Mufasa wasn’t going to be fooled, Mufasa believed his son more than his brother.
“Tell the truth!”
“The truth? The truth is in the eye of the beholder.”
“Now!”
Mufasa got close to roaring at Scar in frustration.
“Or what, Muffy? You wouldn’t exile your own brother?”
“I would if I have to. What you did is a serious crime, endangering the life of royalty!”
“But you have no proof, Muffy. I haven’t confessed to anything yet.”
That time, Mufasa did roar in frustration. His brother was impossible; getting a confession from him was like trying to get a Pumbaa to not fart in a crowd, it was highly unlikely. Unless Mufasa caught Scar off guard.
“Okay Scar, I believe you. But you will not go near my son for a month, I will have him watched, and if you go anywhere near him you will be immediately called to trial, do you understand me?”
“Of course, your majesty.”
“Good. I’ll see you later brother.”
Mufasa walked away from Scar’s den, glancing over his shoulders in case Scar decided to leap at him. A plan had already started to form in Mufasa’s head on how to get a confession from Scar. Mufasa knew Scar was lying; Scar had broken the law, and had to be punished.
***
Mufasa stood down at the waterhole by a tree, waiting until everyone else left. Mufasa called Zazu over, and
Zazu flew over and perched on a branch close to Mufasa’s face.
“Zazu.”
“Your majesty.”
“I’d like you to follow Scar around for the next week. But stay out of his sight; I don’t want him knowing you are there.”
“Sire…?”
“I want you to report back to me every day, telling me everything he’s done that day. Do you understand?”
“Yes sire, but may I ask a question first?”
“Of course Zazu.”
“Why am I doing this?”
“Last night after you left Simba and I, Simba told me something. This something led me to Scar. That something was that Scar told Simba about the elephant graveyard. I went and confronted Scar about it last night, but he tried to deceive me with lies.”
“Ah yes sire.”
“And here Zazu.”
Mufasa threw a small black box with some weird things you could push on it.
“I found this left by some hunters, I got Rafiki to take a look at it, and it is some human magic that allows you to copy sound. It works like this.”
Mufasa pushed a few buttons and then roared. Then Mufasa pushed another couple buttons and the roar played back.
“Amazing sire.”
“Use this Zazu, and copy everything Scar says in the day. If you hear anything suspicious, you can show me with this magic box.”
“Yes sire.”
Zazu turned around to start his latest mission.
“Wait Zazu, one more thing.”
“Yes sire?”
“Good luck.”
Zazu bowed to Mufasa, and flew off towards Pride Rock to find Scar.
***
“Well, it seems that the hairball has halted our plans for the moment.”
Scar was perched on his ledge down at the elephant graveyard. Geysers were going off everywhere, and below Scar, the three hyenas, Shenzi, Banzai and Ed, were enjoying s leg of zebra Scar brought them.
“Well Scar, it is partially your fault too.”
“What did you say Banzai?!”
“I think what he’s trying to say is that, there must have been a more fool proof way to get Simba to come here then telling him what was here.”
“WHAT?!”
Banzai and Shenzi jumped at Scar’s outburst.
“Uhhh, it was all Simba’s fault.”
“Yeah, that hairball ruined everything!”
“Ed?”
Ed nodded in response to the other two hyena’s question.
“Good, that’s what I thought.”
Scar rolled over onto his back and placed his paw over his eyes.
“Ugh, there must’ve been another way, but I guess the only one I could think of was telling Simba this was an elephant graveyard, that was the only method I knew would make him go there.”
Yes. Zazu had gotten the proof. Now that he had it all he had to do was report back to Mufasa and show him. But just as Zazu was about to fly off…
“I guess we won’t be going along with the plan anytime soon then.”
Banzai ripped her head away from the zebra to shoot Scar a puzzled look.
“The plan? What plan?”
“What plan? THE PLAN YOU IDIOT! The one where we bring Mufasa and Simba into the same place and kill them both at once.”
“Derp.” Was Banzai’s only response.
Shenzi face-pawed.
I must go to Mufasa at once! was Zazu’s first thought at he heard this.
“You idiot Banzai, this is 1994, that word doesn’t exist yet.”
“Well neither does a face-paw Shenzi!”
Zazu left the two fighting hyenas at once, going back home.
***
“Sire! Sire, I have proof!”
Zazu yelled out to Mufasa as he entered the den inside of Pride Rock.
“Hmm?”
Mufasa was taking a little nap on the raised platform in the middle of the den when Zazu burst into the room.
“Sire! I have proof that Scar told Simba on purpose! And more!”
“More?”
“Yes sire, Scar has planned to kill you and Simba to take the crown, and Scar has been plotting with the hyenas!”
So that’s where he’s been going.
“Okay Zazu, let me see.”
***
I knew I was right. Scar was lying, he has broken the law, now I can send him away, and he will not be able to endanger my family ever again!
“Thank you so very much Zazu.”
“That’s what I’m here for sire.”
“Tell the pride that there will be a trail in two hours. I will see to Scar myself.”
“Yes sire.”
Zazu flew off, and Mufasa stood up from his napping spot. It was time to end Scar’s madness for good.
***
“And if you do not show up, I swear I will gather every lion I know and hunt you down.”
“Of course I’ll show up Muffy, why wouldn’t I? A birthday party for me, how wonderful, this is the first one since, well, this is my first one!”
“I’m glad you’ll come!”
Hehehe, Muffy you’ve done it again. Mufasa had lied to Scar to get him to come to the trial, told Scar it was a birthday party. 7 months before Scar’s actual birthday.
“Great Scar, I’ll see you there.”
Mufasa walked off, very happy with the way the events were unfolding.
***
“Oh thankyou everyone for this lovely sur….”
Scar saw the animals of the Pridelands, arranged in trial formation.
“prise?”
I’ve got to get out of here, fast!
Scar turned and started running off the way he had come in, but was blocked by two lionesses and an elephant. And a monkey. With fleas.
Darn. Scar almost admitted defeat, but then had a hopeful thought. Muffy doesn’t have any evidence! Well, at least I hope he doesn’t…
“Scar!”
Mufasa was standing on Pride Rock with Sarabi and Simba, all three of them looking down at Scar with disgust.
“Scar, you are here on trial today because you have endangered the royal family, plotted murder and committed treason. Do you deny this?”
Scar kept his cool.
“Yes.”
“You may call your lawyer up to defend you, if you have a lawyer, that is.”
“Actually Muffy…”
“In this trial you will address me as ‘your majesty’!” snapped Mufasa.
“Actually your majesty I do have a lawyer. Zira? Zira, come up here.”
A young lioness with a hole in her ear walked up and sat next to Scar.
“Your majesty, it is law that you cannot prosecute my client without solid proof.”
Zira’s opening statement quite shocked the watching crowd; they had no idea that this young lioness knew anything of the law.
“We have proof.” Replied Mufasa confidently.
Scar gulped. Oh darn.
“Rafiki, bring up the magic human box.”
Rafiki walked up to Mufasa with the tape recorder.
“We have here a copy of Scar confessing to all three crimes.”
Mufasa turned to Rafiki.
“Play it.”
Rafiki played back the recording.
After the recording had been played back, Mufasa turned to the crowd.
“You see? Proof! He is guilty! He must be punished for his sins!”
“Kill him!”
“Yeah! Give him the death sentence!”
Random animals in the crowd yelled out things related to death.
“Unfortunately, Scar is part of the royal family; I cannot give him the death sentence. But I can exile him.”
“Mufasa, please, you must understand…”
Scar tried to plead with Mufasa.
“That won’t work Scar. You have been proven, you’re fate is chosen. You are guilty of endangering the royal family, potting murder and treason. Taka, you are exiled for life!”
The animals howled. The lions roared. Scar felt defeated. There was nothing to do; Scar had no hope, no chance. There was nothing left for Scar to live for. Nothing now that all his dreams had been shattered into pieces by his brother.
“If that is what you wish your majesty.”
Scar turned to Zira and whispered in her ear. Tears started welling up in her eyes at Scar’s whispered words, and then Scar walked over to the nearby cliff.
“Goodbye brother.”
“Zazu!”
Mufasa’s voice ripped through the empty air.
Zazu flew over to Mufasa and landed on some dirt in front of him.
“Yes sire?”
Zazu was feeling a bit guilty.
“Take Nala home, I’ve got to teach my son a lesson.”
As Mufasa looked over to Simba, Simba crouched down low in the grass, afraid of this ‘lesson’.
Zazu flew in between the two cubs.
“Come Nala.”
Zazu turned to Simba and placed his wings on Simba’s shoulders.
“Simba, good luck.”
Then Zazu flew off with Nala, continuing on the path Mufasa was taking back home.
“Simba!”
Mufasa’s voice ripped through the empty plains again.
As Simba walked over to Mufasa, he almost tripped over a massive paw print left by Mufasa. Simba looked at his paw, then at his father, realising that he was afraid of something after all. Simba continued over to Mufasa, sitting down at his side.
“Simba I’m very disappointed in you.”
If you hadn’t realised it by his words, you would’ve realised Mufasa was disappointed by his tone of voice.
“I know.”
“You could have been killed. You deliberately disobeyed me. And what’s worse! You put Nala In danger!”
Simba struggled to hold back tears.
“But, the elephant graveyard, and you and Uncle Scar told me…”
“What?”
Simba didn’t get to finish his sentence. At the words ‘Uncle Scar’ Mufasa felt like a blindfold that had been on him for two years had finally been taken off.
“What do you mean ‘Uncle Scar’ Simba?”
“H-he told me a-about the g-graveyard and then I wanted to go, it’s not his fault.”
Scar? His brother? Mufasa’s own brother had told Simba about what was there, knowing full well that Simba would most likely go there? Mufasa stopped his lecture.
“I’m sorry Simba, I didn’t know. But you shouldn’t have gone off there, it’s a dangerous place. “
“I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay Simba. Let’s go home, you look shaken up. And I have to talk to Uncle Scar.”
Mufasa continued on his journey back to Pride Rock, this time not stomping around like an elephant, with Simba close behind, not feeling as bad anymore, but still feeling bad.
***
Mufasa approached Scar’s den, unsure of how to handle this. His brother had misled Simba, but Scar was his brother, he couldn’t just treat him like dirt. Mufasa reached the entrance of the little dirty cave Scar called home.
“Scar!”
Mufasa’s voice echoed around the little hole in the rock.
Scar approached the cave entrance, where Mufasa was standing.
“You called?”
“Scar, is it true that you told Simba about the elephant graveyard?”
“Simba knows about this? How does he… how did he find out?”
Scar was acting completely innocent. But Mufasa wasn’t going to be fooled, Mufasa believed his son more than his brother.
“Tell the truth!”
“The truth? The truth is in the eye of the beholder.”
“Now!”
Mufasa got close to roaring at Scar in frustration.
“Or what, Muffy? You wouldn’t exile your own brother?”
“I would if I have to. What you did is a serious crime, endangering the life of royalty!”
“But you have no proof, Muffy. I haven’t confessed to anything yet.”
That time, Mufasa did roar in frustration. His brother was impossible; getting a confession from him was like trying to get a Pumbaa to not fart in a crowd, it was highly unlikely. Unless Mufasa caught Scar off guard.
“Okay Scar, I believe you. But you will not go near my son for a month, I will have him watched, and if you go anywhere near him you will be immediately called to trial, do you understand me?”
“Of course, your majesty.”
“Good. I’ll see you later brother.”
Mufasa walked away from Scar’s den, glancing over his shoulders in case Scar decided to leap at him. A plan had already started to form in Mufasa’s head on how to get a confession from Scar. Mufasa knew Scar was lying; Scar had broken the law, and had to be punished.
***
Mufasa stood down at the waterhole by a tree, waiting until everyone else left. Mufasa called Zazu over, and
Zazu flew over and perched on a branch close to Mufasa’s face.
“Zazu.”
“Your majesty.”
“I’d like you to follow Scar around for the next week. But stay out of his sight; I don’t want him knowing you are there.”
“Sire…?”
“I want you to report back to me every day, telling me everything he’s done that day. Do you understand?”
“Yes sire, but may I ask a question first?”
“Of course Zazu.”
“Why am I doing this?”
“Last night after you left Simba and I, Simba told me something. This something led me to Scar. That something was that Scar told Simba about the elephant graveyard. I went and confronted Scar about it last night, but he tried to deceive me with lies.”
“Ah yes sire.”
“And here Zazu.”
Mufasa threw a small black box with some weird things you could push on it.
“I found this left by some hunters, I got Rafiki to take a look at it, and it is some human magic that allows you to copy sound. It works like this.”
Mufasa pushed a few buttons and then roared. Then Mufasa pushed another couple buttons and the roar played back.
“Amazing sire.”
“Use this Zazu, and copy everything Scar says in the day. If you hear anything suspicious, you can show me with this magic box.”
“Yes sire.”
Zazu turned around to start his latest mission.
“Wait Zazu, one more thing.”
“Yes sire?”
“Good luck.”
Zazu bowed to Mufasa, and flew off towards Pride Rock to find Scar.
***
“Well, it seems that the hairball has halted our plans for the moment.”
Scar was perched on his ledge down at the elephant graveyard. Geysers were going off everywhere, and below Scar, the three hyenas, Shenzi, Banzai and Ed, were enjoying s leg of zebra Scar brought them.
“Well Scar, it is partially your fault too.”
“What did you say Banzai?!”
“I think what he’s trying to say is that, there must have been a more fool proof way to get Simba to come here then telling him what was here.”
“WHAT?!”
Banzai and Shenzi jumped at Scar’s outburst.
“Uhhh, it was all Simba’s fault.”
“Yeah, that hairball ruined everything!”
“Ed?”
Ed nodded in response to the other two hyena’s question.
“Good, that’s what I thought.”
Scar rolled over onto his back and placed his paw over his eyes.
“Ugh, there must’ve been another way, but I guess the only one I could think of was telling Simba this was an elephant graveyard, that was the only method I knew would make him go there.”
Yes. Zazu had gotten the proof. Now that he had it all he had to do was report back to Mufasa and show him. But just as Zazu was about to fly off…
“I guess we won’t be going along with the plan anytime soon then.”
Banzai ripped her head away from the zebra to shoot Scar a puzzled look.
“The plan? What plan?”
“What plan? THE PLAN YOU IDIOT! The one where we bring Mufasa and Simba into the same place and kill them both at once.”
“Derp.” Was Banzai’s only response.
Shenzi face-pawed.
I must go to Mufasa at once! was Zazu’s first thought at he heard this.
“You idiot Banzai, this is 1994, that word doesn’t exist yet.”
“Well neither does a face-paw Shenzi!”
Zazu left the two fighting hyenas at once, going back home.
***
“Sire! Sire, I have proof!”
Zazu yelled out to Mufasa as he entered the den inside of Pride Rock.
“Hmm?”
Mufasa was taking a little nap on the raised platform in the middle of the den when Zazu burst into the room.
“Sire! I have proof that Scar told Simba on purpose! And more!”
“More?”
“Yes sire, Scar has planned to kill you and Simba to take the crown, and Scar has been plotting with the hyenas!”
So that’s where he’s been going.
“Okay Zazu, let me see.”
***
I knew I was right. Scar was lying, he has broken the law, now I can send him away, and he will not be able to endanger my family ever again!
“Thank you so very much Zazu.”
“That’s what I’m here for sire.”
“Tell the pride that there will be a trail in two hours. I will see to Scar myself.”
“Yes sire.”
Zazu flew off, and Mufasa stood up from his napping spot. It was time to end Scar’s madness for good.
***
“And if you do not show up, I swear I will gather every lion I know and hunt you down.”
“Of course I’ll show up Muffy, why wouldn’t I? A birthday party for me, how wonderful, this is the first one since, well, this is my first one!”
“I’m glad you’ll come!”
Hehehe, Muffy you’ve done it again. Mufasa had lied to Scar to get him to come to the trial, told Scar it was a birthday party. 7 months before Scar’s actual birthday.
“Great Scar, I’ll see you there.”
Mufasa walked off, very happy with the way the events were unfolding.
***
“Oh thankyou everyone for this lovely sur….”
Scar saw the animals of the Pridelands, arranged in trial formation.
“prise?”
I’ve got to get out of here, fast!
Scar turned and started running off the way he had come in, but was blocked by two lionesses and an elephant. And a monkey. With fleas.
Darn. Scar almost admitted defeat, but then had a hopeful thought. Muffy doesn’t have any evidence! Well, at least I hope he doesn’t…
“Scar!”
Mufasa was standing on Pride Rock with Sarabi and Simba, all three of them looking down at Scar with disgust.
“Scar, you are here on trial today because you have endangered the royal family, plotted murder and committed treason. Do you deny this?”
Scar kept his cool.
“Yes.”
“You may call your lawyer up to defend you, if you have a lawyer, that is.”
“Actually Muffy…”
“In this trial you will address me as ‘your majesty’!” snapped Mufasa.
“Actually your majesty I do have a lawyer. Zira? Zira, come up here.”
A young lioness with a hole in her ear walked up and sat next to Scar.
“Your majesty, it is law that you cannot prosecute my client without solid proof.”
Zira’s opening statement quite shocked the watching crowd; they had no idea that this young lioness knew anything of the law.
“We have proof.” Replied Mufasa confidently.
Scar gulped. Oh darn.
“Rafiki, bring up the magic human box.”
Rafiki walked up to Mufasa with the tape recorder.
“We have here a copy of Scar confessing to all three crimes.”
Mufasa turned to Rafiki.
“Play it.”
Rafiki played back the recording.
After the recording had been played back, Mufasa turned to the crowd.
“You see? Proof! He is guilty! He must be punished for his sins!”
“Kill him!”
“Yeah! Give him the death sentence!”
Random animals in the crowd yelled out things related to death.
“Unfortunately, Scar is part of the royal family; I cannot give him the death sentence. But I can exile him.”
“Mufasa, please, you must understand…”
Scar tried to plead with Mufasa.
“That won’t work Scar. You have been proven, you’re fate is chosen. You are guilty of endangering the royal family, potting murder and treason. Taka, you are exiled for life!”
The animals howled. The lions roared. Scar felt defeated. There was nothing to do; Scar had no hope, no chance. There was nothing left for Scar to live for. Nothing now that all his dreams had been shattered into pieces by his brother.
“If that is what you wish your majesty.”
Scar turned to Zira and whispered in her ear. Tears started welling up in her eyes at Scar’s whispered words, and then Scar walked over to the nearby cliff.
“Goodbye brother.”
Stroy 2:
Remember: show
Remember
Zira was sent flying, tumbling over the edge of the cliff. Her next movements were so quick, so fast, that she didn’t realize that she had been screaming at the top of her lungs in horror. The lioness’ injured and aching body hit something solid on her way down but unfortunately, she had missed her only sure chance of making it back alive. Zira scrambled to latch on to any part of the rock wall; her front claws desperately digging into it with all of her strength.
She dared not to stare down at the sharp drop below. Fear was the only thing keeping her body paralyzed enough to dangle in place. For one rare moment without the other knowing, the Queen of the Outlands and the Princess of the Pridelands shared the same thoughts and feelings of hopelessness. They both instinctively closed their eyes, scared for what might be the end of their lives.
“Hold on, Kiara!”
Nala’s frantic attempt to soothe her daughter raised a growl to Zira’s chest. That foolish, airheaded lioness, didn’t she know that her words were worth nothing? What good would her screaming do? Her precious little girl was going to meet her watery demise. Zira noted that neither of her own worthless cubs had come to her rescue.
Typical. She had always known that she had to depend on herself to get the job done. All that mattered now was that she would once again be reunited with Scar. He was the only thing she had survived for all these years; as long as the loving memory of her beloved remained, she could make peace with her death.
Soon, a loud crack thundered throughout the gorge. The numerous logs that had made up the dam weakened and finally snapped; producing a humongous wave of water. Immediately, Zira found that the river had inundated most of the gorge, thrashing amongst the walls with an uncontained rage. Like the breakdown of the dam, Zira’s nerves had an almost mercurial change and now; she felt her body and mind burn with an unsettling sense of panic. The adrenaline that had once given her almost god-like strength to hold on for so long was wearing off fast and she found that she was slipping.
“Zira, give me your paw!”
Kiara sat above her with sympathetic eyes, extending her own paw out to Zira. Zira snarled at her, swiping her paw away viciously. That stupid lioness, she took away everything from her! She would rather die a million deaths than accept help from that vapid idiot. Zira gasped out as she almost fell, her claws dulling down to the nubs. The river had gotten so close to her, its depths ready to reach out and swallow her whole. Zira’s eyes sunk into her skull.
Was this it? Was this truly going to be the end of her life? This wasn’t supposed to happen, today was supposed to be her day of salvation. She was supposed to paint the earth with the blood of Scar’s murderers. Why did the Circle of Life always have to turn its back on her, where was her place in the sun, where was her justice and victory? Why? Why?
Zira kept her eyes fixated on the lioness above her as her mind went into a deep, chaotic whirl. Yet, Kiara continued to try and reach for her, disregarding any trouble that she might have put herself back into. The younger lioness looked worried, almost desperate for Zira’s life.
“Zira, come on!” Kiara pleaded, “I’ll help you.”
I’ll help you.
Those four words triggered an almost long forgotten memory that Zira had swept into the corners of her mind. The tone of the words was like a soft tune, sparking back familiar feelings of warmth and comfort. Yes, she had been in this exact situation once before, in her youth…
She had been with the other cubs exploring the Elephant Graveyard. Though it was forbidden, it was their favorite hideout to play in due to it being so spooky and cool. Zira had challenged all of the cubs to a climbing challenge to see who could climb to the highest spot without getting scared. Zira had always been a tomboyish cub and she was planning to prove to the others that she could keep up, that she was better than them all.
What she didn’t expect, however, was for her victory to come with a price.
“Help me!” Zira screamed as she struggled to keep from falling into an acid pit. The decaying elephant skull was slowly crumbling underneath her claws.
“Zira, just hang on!” small little Prince Taka squeaked. “It’s going to be alright! Muffy and the others will be here soon. Here, hold on to my paw…I’ll help you…”
She never thought much of Taka before. He was always the small one, the runt of the group. He was too shy. She didn’t think he could do anything. “T-Taka...Taka, I’m scared!” she whimpered, tears springing to her eyes.
“I’m right here, Zira. I’m not going to let you fall, I promise.” Taka told her soothingly, trying to smile bravely, still holding out his paw. “I know that you’re scared but you can trust me. Just hold on, okay?”
The frightened cub held out her paw to the male cub in front of her. In an instant, a secure feeling of being safe, much like the warm feeling of her own mother tingled throughout her body. She smiled back at Taka and knew from then on, she would be okay…
Maybe that was the reason that she extended her own paw to Kiara. Maybe she was more willing to save her own life that she thought. Zira didn’t know. But the security, the same trusting feelings that she had felt such a long time ago had materialized into the younger lioness’ own body.
Zira took that fleeting moment to grasp it as much as she could before it faded away. It took only a little struggle for Zira to climb back to the stable surface of the rock and back to relative safety.
The warmth that Zira had felt was soon snatched away from her, however, as Kiara drew back. It shattered the deliriously happy illusion that Zira was having of being beside her beloved Scar and had stolen what little recreation she had left. The older lioness now had to face the harsh reality that was her bitter life once again, that Scar was never going to return. Zira sat with her back away from Kiara, watching the river’s flow ebb, overcome with numbness.
Kiara cleared her voice softly, “Um, Zira...I’m glad you’re okay.”
“Shut up!” Zira whirled on her with such anger that the Princess flinched. “Who’s okay? You, you worthless, spineless, spiteful Pridelander saved me! You’ve stolen everything from me! Don’t you know I’d rather died but even that wasn’t enough for you! I hate you! I hate everything!”—the skeletal lioness bared her fangs in a ferocious sneer. She still had time to end Simba and turn this failure around. “Get out of my way!”
The crème colored lioness didn’t not budge. Kiara stood in between Zira and the ledge to her freedom. “No, I’m not gonna let you,” Kiara shot back, standing in determination.
“I said move!” Zira roared. The gall of this imbecile! She was a disgrace to every lioness everywhere, with her soft, untrained body and her sweet demeanor. It was disgusting that this so-called princess was even considered to be next in line for the throne; she had never seen a hard day in her life. Her weakness would get her killed and Zira was going to make sure of that.
“Too bad for you, I’ve never listened to a word anyone has ever told me.” Kiara joked despite herself, keeping her eyes locked with Zira steadfastly. “So I’m definitely not going to start now. It’s my turn to help my pride; I can’t let you hurt them.”
Zira’s frustration finally boiled over and she let out another threatening roar directed at the Princess. She wanted to tear through her pretty little face so badly but realized that she was in a losing battle, if she tried any sort of movement, they would fall right back off the cliff. Kiara let out a soft sigh.
“You know something; you’re nothing like what I thought you would be.” Kiara told her thoughtfully, carefully. “From everything my dad told me, I would have sworn you would be like some sort of monster with glowing eyes and fire breath….but now that we’re here, you don’t look like that at all, you almost look sad…”
Zira scoffed half-incredulously, half-mockingly, “I really must have become pathetic if I’m getting sympathy from the likes of you.”
“I’m not pitying you at all,” Kiara shook her head. “I think that you’re really strong, going through everything you did…raising three cubs…losing Scar…training a whole pride on your own, that’s pretty amazing. I know I could never do it, I’m too flighty. I like my freedom.”
The older lioness narrowed her eyes. Was this some sort of trick? How could she even claim that she was strong? She had failed Scar, after all of these long hard years; she still couldn’t complete even the most basic part of her revenge. History only remembered those who won battles, not the ones who lost. Zira knew there was nothing strong about her.
“It got me thinking, you remember when I said that we were all one?” Kiara asked with a small smile. When Zira didn’t respond, she continued. “I really meant for you to hear it. We are so similar it isn’t even funny, I think I could have been just like you.”
“You wench!” Zira screamed at her, “You know nothing about me! My life has never been close to the lies that your father has been feeding you! You don’t know what it’s like to have to carve out a life out of suffering or to relive the nightmares of seeing your beloved’s half-eaten body!”
Angry tears stung at her eyes as she forced herself to tell her story, to go back to the terror that was her life, the things that she wanted to keep hidden. “I have been exiled---“
Zira! You treacherous piece of dirt! How dare you turn your back on me?!
I haven’t, mom! I love him! I can’t give him up!
He’s driving our pride apart! Because of him, everyone is dying!
No! He’s not like that! I promise I’ll talk to him! I’ll make him do better! Just don’t stop being my mother!
Enough! I’ve had enough of you and your poisonous lies!
Mom…mom, you’re hurting me! Stop! Stop!
“Left alone with no defense—“
Please! Nala, Sarabi! Let me come back to the Pride Lands, just once! My cubs need help, they’re dying! There’s nothing in the outlands…I can’t feed them…please…
Zira, we can’t let you do that. You know the penalty for returning to the Pride Lands…just let it go, Scar’s gone. You can still make things right with Simba, just apologize.
Apologize? He murdered my mate in cold blood! How can you make me forget that?!
He murdered Mufasa! Do you expect Simba to forget that, Zira?! Simba was right to take that tyrant out!
Then you are all more like Scar than you will ever know! But don’t take it out on our cubs; they had nothing to do with this! Let us through, please! They’re the innocent ones in all of this! They’re innocent!
Zira snarled darkly, cutting off the rest of her rant to Kiara. She couldn’t ever understand what it was like to have the world against her. It hadn’t been long after her first visit to the Pride Lands that she had slowly plotted her revenge against Simba and his pride. At first, it was only to protect her cubs but the hatred growing inside of her consumed her like a cancer. Battles and blood had been the only thing that gave her a thrill in her life any more, it was the only thing that help tie her to the day her beloved died, back to when she was truly happy. Her cubs were just a tool to that end. She still felt bad for their poor Nuka; he had felt the brunt of her hatred and shortcomings, if only she had more time with him.
“You’re right, Zira. I don’t know what it’s like to be you,” Kiara replied sympathetically, lowering her ears. “But I know what it’s like to love someone that nobody else hates. I know what it’s like for your family to not see the good in them, to see how gentle, how loving they could be.” She let out a shuttering, sad laugh with tears in her own eyes, “After Kovu’s exile, I almost ran away with him…I didn’t need anyone else, as long as we were happy together..so you see, we are alike.”
Zira’s eyes widened a little in surprise. Perhaps the Princess had been like her, if she had killed Kovu, then maybe her life would be the same. The realization sent a shiver down her spine. The same cycle she was trying to fight against had broken her and turned her into the very person that she hated. It was frightening to almost see an almost mirror image of her past self and to see how much she had fallen. But she wasn’t ready to forgive or forget. No, the pain was still too raw.
“Let’s go home, Zira.” Kiara said with a kind smile. “The Pride Lands are just as much yours as it is mine or my father’s. You must be so tired of fighting on your own; you can start things all over again with a clean slate. I’m sure that Kovu and Vitani would love for you to be with them.”
“I’m not sure that I can,” Zira told her quietly. “There’s too much damage that has been done, I can’t let it go. There’s no place for me anymore.”
“I’ll make a place. We’ll do it together,” Kiara told her fervently, sincerely. “If anyone has any problems, I’ll make them understand. Sure, it won’t be easy but we’ll take things one step at a time and I promise that I won’t let you fall. Our pride can’t heal without the most important part of its past. Please, Zira, let’s start things over again.”
The old Zira would have swiped at the Princess’ face and threatened to tear out her throat with her teeth. But now, there was a setting calmness in Zira’s heart that hadn’t been there before. It was like the warmth of her Taka, her Scar, pushing her to for once, to choose a path with an unwavering hope of the future. It was daunting and probably suicidal for sure, but if her beloved Scar wanted her to move on, she would do it with god speed.
After all, nothing suited her better than fighting the odds that life threw at her like a mad lioness. Zira wouldn’t have wanted this any other way.
Story 3:
Where the Water Was Needed the Most: show
Where the Water Was Needed the Most
“I would if you just tell me!”
“Forget it!”
“Fine!”
Nala watched Simba storm off in disbelief. Not too long ago, she had just met him since that day when Scar announced his death. He was just as eager to see her again as she was to see him, and for most of the night, the two of them played around like cubs, playing together again just like they had so long ago...
...And as soon as their fun died down and she mentioned the Pride Lands, Simba turned from the playful cub she remembered him to be into... this idiot.
Even though Simba had vanished into the bushes by now, Nala still growled loudly at him.“It would have been better if you actually stayed dead!”
She immediately regretted shouting this, but at the back of her mind, she couldn't help but feel that she really did wanted to remember him only as the playful cub from previously. As much as she enjoyed their playing today, his lack of sympathy for the Pride Lands – his own home and pride – hurt her more than she realized.
What happened to the cub who just couldn't wait to be king? To tell Simba that unless he would return, everyone back home would starve. How dare he turn his back on them? On his own mother? How dare he turn his back on her? That was what baffled her the most.
How dare he?
Thinking about him now brought back so many memories to her. After his “death”, she quickly discovered that thinking about him hurt terribly, and therefore forced herself to forget about him. Those times when she couldn't, one of the adults would be there to help and comfort her, whether it be her mother, Sarabi, or sometimes, even Scar himself.
Scar... Simba's uncle... Nala frowned when she thought about what Scar had said on the day of the stampede.
“Mufasa's death was a terrible tragedy where the water was needed the most. But to lose Simba, who had only begun to live...”
Did he know something she didn't? Scar sounded so sincere when he announced that both Simba and Mufasa had died. But wasn't she just playing around with a “dead” lion just a few moments ago? Perhaps Scar had assumed that Simba had died, because a stampede could easily cause a cub's body to disappear.
But no... She clearly remembered one time, when she came crying to Scar, telling him how she feared that Simba wasn't able to rest up with the stars properly, Scar comforted her and told her how he had in fact found Simba's body, but it was too broken for him to to anything, and in order to save Sarabi the agony of seeing him, had taken Simba's body and laid it to proper rest.
But how could he have done it if Simba is still alive?
Scar lied.
Nala growled in anger and frustration. What else was that moron of a king doing? Not only was he letting the Pride Lands go to ruin, but he dared to lie to her about Simba's ware abouts. So if he lied about Simba being dead... did that mean that he knew that Simba survived? Or did he lie just to comfort her, still believing Simba to have been killed, but not actually finding the body as he told her?
If there was one creature around that can give her more answers, it would be Simba. But he...
Nala faced where Simba had slipped through the bushes to. Sure, they had just argued, but perhaps he might forgive her and actually listen. But at the same time, he really did sound decisive. He won't return home. Why was he being so stupid? Perhaps if she could find him and ask him again. Or perhaps he might see her and run away even further, and she really didn't feel like chasing after him. She was still quite hungry, after all, and thanks to him, she didn't get to eat that very delicious looking warthog, Pumbaa.
What if she would eat Pumbaa as retaliation and force him to come with her? She shook her head. Not only would Simba hate her for the rest of their lives, she herself knew that she won't stoop to such low levels. Both Sarabi and Sarafina would never approve of such actions.
Thinking about the pride back home gave her new resolve. No matter what she may think, or even Simba for that matter, they needed him. They needed both of them.
“Simba! Wait!” She bolted towards the bushes, catching Simba's scent and following it as fast as she could.
Frustratingly enough, either Simba was good at hiding, or was just lucky, but following his trail proved harder than Nala thought. That was no small feat. Having been trained personally by Sarafina and Sarabi, Nala was one of the best hunters in the pride now considering her age. Being forced to hunt for any possible prey, no matter how quick, agile, or stealthy, also helped her learn fast.
But despite being envied by others about her progress back home, finding Simba was proving to be a very hard challenge now of all times. As she lost the trail and had to double back yet again, she began to mutter under her breath to try and deal with her frustration.
“Come on, Simba, where are you?”
To her surprise, the jungle suddenly gave away to the open savanna, now a dark bluish green color due to the nighttime. Carefully making sure that she was still on Simba's trail, Nala cautiously walked out into the open plains, looking for any signs of the lion. From the distance traveled, it seemed that Simba fled in quite a hurry. She hoped that he didn't run away permanently because of her.
Walking over to the top of a small hill, Nala spotted something lying down on a log laying over a small creek. It was Simba.
Immediately dropping down in order not to be seen, Nala slowly edged forwards, hoping to get as close to him as possible without him noticing. She didn't want to risk him running away from her again.
But as she edged closer, Nala began to suspect that the last thing Simba was doing at the moment was being alert to his surroundings. She was now close enough to see that he was looking down at the water below, most likely at his reflection. Edging even closer, she was now able to see the expression on his face.
All anger she felt towards him melted away as Nala saw that Simba was clearly distraught. It even looked like he had cried not long ago. Was it because of her? Or was it something else?
Not knowing what to say, Nala got up from her hiding spot in the grass and began to approach her friend. Either he really didn't know that she was there, or he didn't care, because Simba didn't make any move or any form of acknowledgement even as her own reflection came into his view, or when Nala lay down next to him, trying to get close to him but not to cause them to fall off the small log.
“Simba, I-” Her words failed her, and Nala fell silent, instead resting her head on his body and hoping to figure out the proper thing to say. In the mean time, the two of them lay together on the log in silence.
Also looking down at their reflections, Nala saw a drop of water fall down and cause small ripples ripples to form. Nala stared at them with envy. Envy that it was raining here and not in the Pride Lands where the water was needed the most.
But as another drop fell, Nala realized that it was too different from rain. It was coming from Simba. He was crying again.
“Simba...”
Simba mumbled something at the same time, but she failed to catch it.
“What did you say, Simba?”
“... I did it Nala.”
Nala frowned. What was he talking about? “Did what?”
Simba let out a long sigh. “I did it Nala. I didn't want to, but I did! I'm responsible for it!” He began to sob louder now.
But even now, Nala didn't get what he was saying. “You did what? What are you responsible for?”
Simba sat up quickly, nearly causing her to fall off in surprise. He turned to her, very upset, and for some reason, also very angry. “Do I need to spell it out to you?”
“-What?”
“I killed him!” Simba screamed at her. “I killed dad! That's why I'm here, and that's why I can't go back! Now leave me alone!”
Nala was very confused now. “Simba, what are you talking about? How could you do such a thing?”
Simba jumped away from her, fear in his face. Nala realized what she had said.
“No! I meant... how could you, a small cub, killed Mufasa, a grown lion? There's no way you could have killed him! Besides, Scar told us he died in a stampede! Died along with you!”
Simba growled at her. “And who do you think caused that stampede? Scar made it very clear: if I wasn't there in the gorge, dad would have still been alive! He found me next to dad after he died, and told me that it was all my fault! He said...” He let out a small gurgle, but didn't say anything else.
“Oh, what would your mother think?”
If Nala thought that she was confused before, she had no idea what was going now at all. “Simba, Scar told me that he found you already dead! That he held your dead body!”
“So?”
“So what? It means that he lied to me! And now you're telling me that he talked to you too?” In her head, Nala was now busy at the same time replaying all she heard back home about Scar. That he was a bad king and needed to be rid off. While the adults often kept many of the details away from her, Nala was told enough to get the determination she needed to flee past the hyenas and away from the Pride Lands in search of help. To Simba. “Simba, what Scar is doing back home... I think... I think he might have lied to you too. To get rid of you.”
“Why?”
“I don't know! Perhaps he feared you! Or maybe he thought that the pride won't listen to him with you around. I don't know! And I definitely don't know what happened during the stampede, but Simba, you were a cub! There's no way you could have killed Mufasa, even if you tried!” As she said Mufasa's name, Simba let out a small whimper of fear, but other than that, didn't make any other moves. “Scar is ruining our home! He won't listen to us, even as we tell him how bad things are! That's why I was sent to find help!”
“I can't go back.” So now Simba was back to this again. Even though Nala was beginning to understand why he left, she didn't know why he was refusing to come back.
“Why not?”
“Because! What about my mom? She would tear me apart the moment she will see me! After I killed dad, do you really think she'll listen to me?”
So apparently he didn't hear the part where she said that there was no way that he was a murderer.
“Simba, Sarabi loves you! Do you know how many times I've seen her cry out for you when she thought no one was looking? She believes you did in the stampede! She doesn't know you... killed Mufasa! She wants you back! The best thing you can do to her is return now! She'll be so glad to see you alive again, her own son!”
Simba shook his head. “No!” He whimpered.
Nala reached out and hugged him tightly. He buried his muzzle into her fur and she felt him begin to cry violently. “Simba, I know it's hard, but I want you to understand. No one hates you... We all love you. You have a home Simba. A pride. We're all waiting for you to return home.” Carefully moving back, Nala made sure that she and Simba were off the small log before she stopped and allowed Simba to release his grief on her without the risk of falling down.
For what felt like forever, she remained there, trying to comfort Simba with her presence as he struggled to comprehend reality with what he thought was correct all this time.
Finally, she heard him speak again, but it was still mostly a quiet whimper. “I want to see mom again... But I don't know... What if she will hate me?”
“She won't hate you.” Nala got an idea to try and cheer Simba up. “She might strangle you to death by hugging you too hard after missing you all these years...”
Simba gripped her tighter, now more afraid than ever. Nala felt disappointed that her joke failed. “She won't kill you Simba. And I know she doesn't hate you. Being told of your death tore her apart in grief. And we still need someone to remove Scar from power and restore the Pride Lands. And who better to do so than you? How proud Mufasa would be to see his own son as king of the Pride Lands?”
Simba grunted. “Dad's dead. He can't see anything.”
Nala moved her head to face him. “I remember you telling me that the great kings of the past live in the stars.”
Simba grunted again. “It's all a lie. I've tried looking for dad often enough. He was never there for me, even though he said he will be.” But even as he said this, he looked up at the night skies. At the stars. Clouds quickly moved in overhead, pushed by a wind that blew around them, and Simba's eyes followed them, fixated to where the clouds seemed to merge together,
Confused, Nala tried to nudge Simba to alert him of her presence, but all it caused was for him to stand up, and begin to walk off, still looking up at the cloud formation.
Nala began to follow him, but a strong wind pushed her back. The more she struggled against it, the more it blew into her, making sure that she wasn't able to follow Simba, who didn't seem to be effected by the wind, despite his mane blowing furiously in it. “Simba! Wait for me!”
He didn't hear her. Her words were lost in the wind.
Nala could only stare in sadness, occasionally struggling against the torrent of air, as Simba walked further and further away from her. He then broke off into a run, chasing after something in the sky.
At that moment, the wind stopped, sending Nala toppling forwards. Undignified, she got up quickly and chased after Simba, who now had stopped moving.
“Simba, what was that? What was up with the weather?”
Simba turned to look at Nala. She saw that he was once again crying, but this time, his tears of sadness were mixed with tears of happiness.
“Nala, I... What you told me... I didn't want to believe you. I was too scared to believe you. But now... I'm not afraid anymore.”
He lunged forward at her, embracing her in a deep hug.
“Nala, I...” He let out a deep sigh.
“I remember.”
Nala smiled and hugged him back. “Does that mean that you will come back with me?” She felt Simba nod.
“Yeah. Let's go home.”
Story 4:
Fragility: show
fragility
Zira’s parents love her. They bring her into the world with joy and smiles and warmth. They watch her, bathe her, and teach their cub to walk and talk. Her coat is thick like her father’s and chalky vanilla. She has her mother’s crimson eyes. Zira is a fiercely intelligent cub, and her parents are proud.
-----------------
She grows into adolescence as if it can’t arrive fast enough, as if glaring at things and acting older will make it come on more quickly. She’s too clever for her own good and much more clever than the other cubs. Her mother is sure that she’ll outgrow her brusqueness, that they can teach her to be gentle. Her father isn’t so sure. In reality, her father is scared. Not of Zira, but of what he thinks she might become, since he’s seen the way she uses the other cubs to get what she wants. He talks to her, and even though she won’t look at him, she listens. The next day, she lets Nala win in tag. Her father beams, and she is proud.
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As if out of spite, adulthood is thrust upon Zira. Her father dies far away from her on an ill-fated hunting trip, not with a scream but with a sigh. The rest of the hunting party doesn’t find him until hours later, after the scavengers of the plains have had their way. Zira doesn’t understand why her father is dead. She refuses to believe it, but the new queen Sarabi wisely counsels that Zira not be allowed to see her father’s carcass. Zira’s father slowly fades away, and she bitterly reasons it was his gentleness that killed him.
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Scar. He lounges on a sun charred rock, lightly sleeping. So sleek… elegant, and mercurial. Zira hesitates. She always knows what she wants, and takes it. But he’s the brother of the king. She keeps to the shadows, speaks a little more quietly when he’s around. One ghostly afternoon he spies her out of the corner of his eye, and they hold a stare for a moment until Zira backs down, her fur standing on end and her heart pounding with adrenaline.
-----------------
“Please, Scar,” Zira purrs, “Don’t tell me that a lion like you has no interest in a mate.”
It’s just the two of them, two silhouettes against the dusk on an outcropping behind Pride Rock. Scar shifts his weight from paw to paw, then slinks over to Zira, circling her.
“You have always been different than the other lionesses,” Scar admits, sparks flying between their coats where he brushes up against her. The electricity drains Zira of whatever tenuous control she had over the situation, and he takes her on the blood orange rocks and in the dust, and in that series of instants it almost seems like love.
-----------------
When Zira hears about Simba and Mufasa’s death she tries to conjure up some feeling of sadness or empathy but neither of those have ever been her strong suits, and maybe she used them all up when her father disappeared and now there’s just a hole somewhere inside her. Instead all she can conjure up is the image of her lover ascending to the throne, and when he does, she feels him filling that void.
“My dear,” he explains, “It wouldn’t do to split my power right now. The pride needs a strong leader, right now. One leader.” He leans in close to her, close enough for her to feel his hot breath in her ear. “But you know that you are my love,” he whispers. His words seem perfectly natural to her.
-----------------
Nuka, fittingly, is the first cub born in Scar’s reign. He bears the same dark chestnut fur as his father. Scar is present when it happens, his viridian eyes soaking up the scene, processing the gravity of the events before him. He knows what course of action will be prudent, and he even leans in and licks his newborn son.
The king interacts with his son less and less as he grows, because Scar sees that he will be neither an asset nor a threat. Nuka grows up ungainly with only a modest intellect and an ambition misplaced in pleasing his father.
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A lioness named Mona leaves of her own accord under the cover of night a little over a year into Scar’s reign, when the first pangs of hunger roll over the pride. Only a few lionesses know that she has gone, and when they never hear from her, or about her, they assume she has fallen prey to some misfortune or predator on the plains.
Zira hears the lioness leave and tracks her. She knows a threat to her king when she sees one. The lioness makes it two miles into the wilderness before she snares her leg in a root and sprains an ankle. She is headstrong… and careless. Zira comes across the younger lioness on her back, mewling and cradling her throbbing ankle. Mona looks up at Zira with wide eyes.
“My… I hurt my ankle,” she explains lamely in a quivering voice. Everyone knows where Zira’s loyalties lie. Zira says nothing. “You have to help me, you have to help all of us,” Mona implored. “All of our lives are in danger, Scar’s going to kill us all, one way or another. Think about Nuka!”
Zira strolls closer to Mona and lays a paw reassuringly on her exposed stomach. In the moonlight Mona’s fur looks milky white and seems to ripple at Zira’s touch. “Life is so fragile, you know.” she purrs, stroking Mona’s stomach with a claw. She envisions Scar’s face. “One slip and it can… rip. “
The carrion birds circle, and Zira absentmindedly realizes why she never saw her father’s body. She can’t wait to hear Scar tell her how well she did.
-----------------
Scar licks his chops in disappointment when he sees Vitani for the first time. “A daughter. How… charming,” he mutters. He turns away to leave the birthing cave.
“Aren’t you going to come be with your new child?” Zira stammers, staring at her mate.
“I think I shall retire to my chambers, actually,” he replies, leaving Vitani breathless from childbirth and alone with her son and daughter. Zira can’t believe that Scar doesn’t want to be a part of the family, can’t believe that he doesn’t love her and Nuka and Vitani—and so she doesn’t. She imagines that he is there beside her, and then the scene is perfect.
Months later he pushes a fearful young cub in front of Zira and proclaims it to be his son and heir. Nuka understands the situation well enough to be scared of his mother’s jealous wrath, but the reality is even worse. Zira drowns the cub in the love she grew for Scar, and Nuka feels neglected, because he is. He grows close with Vitani.
-----------------
Scar’s body is mangled and devoured beyond recognition, but Zira still cradles what is left, staining her coat. It is a gruesome picture, and her cubs look away in disgust. To them, the living breathing lion was no father and the pile of entrails even less so.
Zira eyes Kovu wildly. “Kovu! You are Scar’s protégé!” she exclaims, grabbing at him as if he might run away, which at that moment he wishes he could. “He would want revenge! And I will train you, Kovu, and he will live through us!” Zira’s eyes glaze over; she is hysterical. Nuka tries to calm her down, but she swipes at him viciously. “We will kill Simba,” she shrieks, shaking, “For Scar!” Nuka and Vitani catch Kovu’s terrified, frantic gaze from within Zira’s grasp.
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The river below her rages, the current running swift and rough with swirling eddies forming in the middle, dragging logs and shards of wood under the surface.
Her grip on the cliff face slips a few inches, and Kiara implores her to take the paw. Scar’s face flashes before her, and her grimace turns to a smile as she reaches up to grasp Kiara’s paw and slowly, painfully climbs her way up the cliff. When she’s up to safety, Kiara says something she doesn’t hear. All she can hear is Scar, debonair and loving and loyal as he was only to Zira, whispering in her ear.
“…so fragile…”
Zira closes the gap between the lionesses without a moment’s hesitation, and by the time the Pridelanders reach the cliff, the river is all that remains.
Story 5:
Untitled: show
As dusk arrived, the tranquility of a beautiful afternoon in the mountainous African jungle faded away with the diminishing rays of sunlight. The serenity was replaced by several loud bellows of a fierce, wild animal.
"SIMBAAAAAAA!"
The red-maned lion turned his head around, upon hearing his name being called. Simultaneously, a groan of agitation escaped his muzzle.
He knew all too well that Nala wasn't exactly the type of lioness to give up easily. Her persistence was simply astonishing at times, and this was certainly not an exception.
Although the two had gone their separate ways minutes ago, she would not cease calling for him.
"SIMBAAAAAAAA! I KNOW YOU CAN HEAR ME!"
Naturally, Simba's ears flattened at the cacophony of roars. He stopped wandering about for a moment, intent on making her quit once and for all.
"I SAID FORGET IT!"
Nala had been nagging him all evening, which adequately justified his rude response. What else was he supposed to do? He had made it perfectly clear that he was not going to discuss his past, and he most certainly wasn't going to return to Priderock either.
But his argument continued to fall short, no matter how much he persisted. After hearing the echo of the lion's avalanche-inducing roar, Simba heard yet another yell from the lioness, which was equal in volume.
"NO! I'M NOT GOING TO FORGET IT!"
Simba rolled his eyes, while whispering to no lion in particular. "Oh, for the love of Ahadi! Can't she just shut up? Please! Stop!"
"COME BACK HERE!" Nala continued. "WE NEED TO TALK!"
The lion winced at her heavy, commanding words. It was beyond obvious what she was trying to do: she wanted to know what happened, and she wasn't going to leave him until she knew.
For a brief moment, Simba almost considered telling her.
He had nothing to lose. He would never return to Pride Rock again, and Nala would never return to the jungle. She was already angry at him enough.
Regardless of what he told her, his relationship with Nala was a lost cause. After their many years apart, it became clear that they were destined to go their separate ways.
The lioness would hate him for sure if she discovered the truth, but at least then she would stop nagging for him to return. She could continue her search for some other lion to challenge Scar, and as a result, his family might have some chance of survival.
Surely, that was the way it was meant to be.
But Nala interrupted his line of thought with another roar from across the jungle. "WHAT'S TAKING YOU SO LONG?"
The lion sighed in exasperation. He had nowhere left to run. Eventually, Nala would find him, and the confrontation would begin again.
But he couldn't tell her. He was trapped.
Simba's eyes wandered down to the dirt below his front paws. He lifted his left paw up, examining the print he made in the muddy soil. Immediately, he began to have second thoughts.
What was he going to tell her? He had to think of something, and he had to do it quickly.
"FINE! I'LL BE THERE IN A MINUTE!" he yelled back, trying to buy himself more time to think of an excuse.
Simba bit the edge of his tongue out of nervousness. At the same time, he began to turn around, preparing to walk in the direction of Nala's calls.
The more he thought about it, the more he regretted ever saying anything. He had already fed the lioness many lies in the hours prior to their argument, but she obviously saw through every one of them.
Even after all their years apart, Nala knew him too well. She knew something was wrong, and she would find out what sooner or later.
"Simba! There you are!"
On second thought, it was most certainly going to be sooner. The lion gulped, wondering only how he was going to keep his secret for a little while longer.
For several agonizing moments, the lioness observed Simba carefully. He almost appeared to be sick, and his paws were shaking involuntarily.
Nala's voice faded away, into what seemed like a whisper after their long-distance conversation. "What's happened to you?" she asked.
"I don't want to talk about it," Simba retorted, very bitterly.
"Seriously?" Nala asked. "You've been gone all this time, and you're not going to tell me anything?"
Before he realized what he was doing, Simba blurted out what was blatantly obvious. "My father died, Nala!"
It took the lion a moment before he began to notice just how clever he was actually being. He was telling the truth, only from a different perspective.
Upon realizing this, he seized his opportunity to bend the truth further. "What do you think happened to me?" Simba asked rhetorically, both equally hurt and frustrated.
"I know... but that's why we need you," the lioness added.
"I'm sorry," Simba replied. "I already told you I'm not going back. You're going to have to find someone else."
Nala flattened her ears while her tail twitched with irritation. "This is just stupid! It doesn't matter what happened years ago. What matters is that you're the one that can fix it. Mufasa is dead, but you're still here."
"Really? How am I supposed to fix anything?" Simba asked sarcastically.
"Isn't it obvious? You're the king!" Nala retorted. "And your kingdom is being ruled by someone else. You can challenge Scar... but only you."
"No, I can't," Simba replied. "That's not my kingdom anymore."
"Yes it is!" Nala insisted. "You're Mufasa's son! The kingdom is rightfully yours, and nothing can take that away."
"No..." Simba muttered while looking away.
"It's who you are. You can't run away from that."
"I'm not the king anymore," Simba replied. "I don't want to be."
"Is that what Mufasa would want you to say?" the lioness asked.
"Nala... you don't understand," Simba answered.
"Obviously I don't."
The lion's voice began to crack. He had no other option left but to say it, but he could hardly bring himself to do just that. "You don't understand... because I killed Mufasa."
Nala's jaw dropped. "You... what?"
Suddenly, the adult lion began to feel like a cub all over again. The fear and hopelessness he felt at the time of the incident never truly faded away. It sat in the back of his mind, resting in a dormant state until something reminded him of his father.
The entire afternoon spent with Nala was no exception. As he tried to explain, he used the very same words he told his uncle, the last time he saw another lion. "It was an accident. I didn't mean for it to happen." As the words escaped his muzzle, he could only hear his younger self speaking.
"But... how? This doesn't make any sense! Scar told us you both died in the stampede."
Simba had little trouble recalling the event in his mind. Immediately, he corrected Nala as the moment played out in his memory. "I was in the stampede. He died trying to save me."
"Simba..." Nala began slowly. She started to approach the lion, while trying to hold back emotions of deep sympathy and guilt. The thought that Simba believed he murdered his father by needing to be saved seemed almost too ridiculous to be true, but that was another matter entirely.
"It's my fault," Simba interrupted.
Nala smiled, placing her paw gently above Simba's shoulder. "No, it's not. Needing to be saved doesn't make you a murderer."
"But if-"
"Simba!" Nala exclaimed, which caused the lion to stop talking immediately. Simba had his turn to speak, but this time, it was hers. "I'm not looking at a lion who would kill his father. When I look into your eyes, I know that's not what I see."
Simba turned his head to the side, trying to see his own reflection in Nala's green eyes. He was incredibly surprised by her reaction, but he still felt apprehensive.
"Well then... what do you see?" Simba almost appeared afraid to ask.
"I see a lion who loved his father very much," Nala explained easily.
A small tear fell from the lion's eye, as the weight he carried for several years was suddenly removed from his shoulders. He blinked, trying to clear his eyes.
After all his time in the jungle, someone finally understood what he had been through. It almost seemed too good to be true.
"I know you would have done anything to keep him alive," Nala continued.
Simba closed his eyes for a moment, smiling back at the lioness beside him. "You mean you're not...?"
"Simba," The lioness said softly. She stepped even closer to the lion, before rubbing her head affectionately on his mane. "I wish you had told me earlier, but that doesn't mean I'm mad at you."
Within seconds, Simba's knees gave out and the lion fell to the ground with a thud. He was not even able to stand with the many emotions flowing through his heart.
"Nala?" Simba asked.
"Yeah?"
"If I go back... do you think they'll understand?"
The lioness sat down on the ground beside Simba, leaning against him slightly to make herself comfortable in the dirt. "It doesn't matter," Nala answered. "You need to come home."
A long silence followed, as the two felines enjoyed their night under the stars. Only an occasional purr or chirp of a cricket filled the air, until Simba finally announced his decision.
"Tomorrow, I'm taking back what's mine."
"SIMBAAAAAAA!"
The red-maned lion turned his head around, upon hearing his name being called. Simultaneously, a groan of agitation escaped his muzzle.
He knew all too well that Nala wasn't exactly the type of lioness to give up easily. Her persistence was simply astonishing at times, and this was certainly not an exception.
Although the two had gone their separate ways minutes ago, she would not cease calling for him.
"SIMBAAAAAAAA! I KNOW YOU CAN HEAR ME!"
Naturally, Simba's ears flattened at the cacophony of roars. He stopped wandering about for a moment, intent on making her quit once and for all.
"I SAID FORGET IT!"
Nala had been nagging him all evening, which adequately justified his rude response. What else was he supposed to do? He had made it perfectly clear that he was not going to discuss his past, and he most certainly wasn't going to return to Priderock either.
But his argument continued to fall short, no matter how much he persisted. After hearing the echo of the lion's avalanche-inducing roar, Simba heard yet another yell from the lioness, which was equal in volume.
"NO! I'M NOT GOING TO FORGET IT!"
Simba rolled his eyes, while whispering to no lion in particular. "Oh, for the love of Ahadi! Can't she just shut up? Please! Stop!"
"COME BACK HERE!" Nala continued. "WE NEED TO TALK!"
The lion winced at her heavy, commanding words. It was beyond obvious what she was trying to do: she wanted to know what happened, and she wasn't going to leave him until she knew.
For a brief moment, Simba almost considered telling her.
He had nothing to lose. He would never return to Pride Rock again, and Nala would never return to the jungle. She was already angry at him enough.
Regardless of what he told her, his relationship with Nala was a lost cause. After their many years apart, it became clear that they were destined to go their separate ways.
The lioness would hate him for sure if she discovered the truth, but at least then she would stop nagging for him to return. She could continue her search for some other lion to challenge Scar, and as a result, his family might have some chance of survival.
Surely, that was the way it was meant to be.
But Nala interrupted his line of thought with another roar from across the jungle. "WHAT'S TAKING YOU SO LONG?"
The lion sighed in exasperation. He had nowhere left to run. Eventually, Nala would find him, and the confrontation would begin again.
But he couldn't tell her. He was trapped.
Simba's eyes wandered down to the dirt below his front paws. He lifted his left paw up, examining the print he made in the muddy soil. Immediately, he began to have second thoughts.
What was he going to tell her? He had to think of something, and he had to do it quickly.
"FINE! I'LL BE THERE IN A MINUTE!" he yelled back, trying to buy himself more time to think of an excuse.
Simba bit the edge of his tongue out of nervousness. At the same time, he began to turn around, preparing to walk in the direction of Nala's calls.
The more he thought about it, the more he regretted ever saying anything. He had already fed the lioness many lies in the hours prior to their argument, but she obviously saw through every one of them.
Even after all their years apart, Nala knew him too well. She knew something was wrong, and she would find out what sooner or later.
"Simba! There you are!"
On second thought, it was most certainly going to be sooner. The lion gulped, wondering only how he was going to keep his secret for a little while longer.
For several agonizing moments, the lioness observed Simba carefully. He almost appeared to be sick, and his paws were shaking involuntarily.
Nala's voice faded away, into what seemed like a whisper after their long-distance conversation. "What's happened to you?" she asked.
"I don't want to talk about it," Simba retorted, very bitterly.
"Seriously?" Nala asked. "You've been gone all this time, and you're not going to tell me anything?"
Before he realized what he was doing, Simba blurted out what was blatantly obvious. "My father died, Nala!"
It took the lion a moment before he began to notice just how clever he was actually being. He was telling the truth, only from a different perspective.
Upon realizing this, he seized his opportunity to bend the truth further. "What do you think happened to me?" Simba asked rhetorically, both equally hurt and frustrated.
"I know... but that's why we need you," the lioness added.
"I'm sorry," Simba replied. "I already told you I'm not going back. You're going to have to find someone else."
Nala flattened her ears while her tail twitched with irritation. "This is just stupid! It doesn't matter what happened years ago. What matters is that you're the one that can fix it. Mufasa is dead, but you're still here."
"Really? How am I supposed to fix anything?" Simba asked sarcastically.
"Isn't it obvious? You're the king!" Nala retorted. "And your kingdom is being ruled by someone else. You can challenge Scar... but only you."
"No, I can't," Simba replied. "That's not my kingdom anymore."
"Yes it is!" Nala insisted. "You're Mufasa's son! The kingdom is rightfully yours, and nothing can take that away."
"No..." Simba muttered while looking away.
"It's who you are. You can't run away from that."
"I'm not the king anymore," Simba replied. "I don't want to be."
"Is that what Mufasa would want you to say?" the lioness asked.
"Nala... you don't understand," Simba answered.
"Obviously I don't."
The lion's voice began to crack. He had no other option left but to say it, but he could hardly bring himself to do just that. "You don't understand... because I killed Mufasa."
Nala's jaw dropped. "You... what?"
Suddenly, the adult lion began to feel like a cub all over again. The fear and hopelessness he felt at the time of the incident never truly faded away. It sat in the back of his mind, resting in a dormant state until something reminded him of his father.
The entire afternoon spent with Nala was no exception. As he tried to explain, he used the very same words he told his uncle, the last time he saw another lion. "It was an accident. I didn't mean for it to happen." As the words escaped his muzzle, he could only hear his younger self speaking.
"But... how? This doesn't make any sense! Scar told us you both died in the stampede."
Simba had little trouble recalling the event in his mind. Immediately, he corrected Nala as the moment played out in his memory. "I was in the stampede. He died trying to save me."
"Simba..." Nala began slowly. She started to approach the lion, while trying to hold back emotions of deep sympathy and guilt. The thought that Simba believed he murdered his father by needing to be saved seemed almost too ridiculous to be true, but that was another matter entirely.
"It's my fault," Simba interrupted.
Nala smiled, placing her paw gently above Simba's shoulder. "No, it's not. Needing to be saved doesn't make you a murderer."
"But if-"
"Simba!" Nala exclaimed, which caused the lion to stop talking immediately. Simba had his turn to speak, but this time, it was hers. "I'm not looking at a lion who would kill his father. When I look into your eyes, I know that's not what I see."
Simba turned his head to the side, trying to see his own reflection in Nala's green eyes. He was incredibly surprised by her reaction, but he still felt apprehensive.
"Well then... what do you see?" Simba almost appeared afraid to ask.
"I see a lion who loved his father very much," Nala explained easily.
A small tear fell from the lion's eye, as the weight he carried for several years was suddenly removed from his shoulders. He blinked, trying to clear his eyes.
After all his time in the jungle, someone finally understood what he had been through. It almost seemed too good to be true.
"I know you would have done anything to keep him alive," Nala continued.
Simba closed his eyes for a moment, smiling back at the lioness beside him. "You mean you're not...?"
"Simba," The lioness said softly. She stepped even closer to the lion, before rubbing her head affectionately on his mane. "I wish you had told me earlier, but that doesn't mean I'm mad at you."
Within seconds, Simba's knees gave out and the lion fell to the ground with a thud. He was not even able to stand with the many emotions flowing through his heart.
"Nala?" Simba asked.
"Yeah?"
"If I go back... do you think they'll understand?"
The lioness sat down on the ground beside Simba, leaning against him slightly to make herself comfortable in the dirt. "It doesn't matter," Nala answered. "You need to come home."
A long silence followed, as the two felines enjoyed their night under the stars. Only an occasional purr or chirp of a cricket filled the air, until Simba finally announced his decision.
"Tomorrow, I'm taking back what's mine."
Story 6:
Faux Pas: show
Faux Pas
The normally deserted patch of dusty, brush-filled land above the border of the Pridelands, known colloquially as the Outlands, generally were not brimming when it came to inhabitants. They passed the days and nights quietly, roasting under the merciless heat of the sun and freezing under the stare of the moon without any stray complaint. Yet on this particular occasion, something was very different indeed.
A battle had been about to ensue. Two disparate forces had come to face each other under the rare bit of rain that had deigned to touch the land below. Vultures were beginning to circle overhead, hoping to profit from the victims even if neither side conclusively won. Surely there would be something—a snack, a morsel—for them at the end of this.
All had been muddy, the dirt collapsing into muck at the slightest hint of moisture. The Outlanders, with their narrow, darting eyes, had suspiciously watched the high and mighty Pridelanders become brown with the filth that had covered their legs. They were not free of it, of course, their scruffy and clumpy tufts of fur becoming even more dusty and dirty under the wet rainstorm and the cakes of sopping mud.
Yes, a battle had been about to ensue. A gritty, bloody, unpleasant one.
Until he and his soon-to-be-mate had intervened for the sake of their families. Now they were all on one side, with the exception of the two furry bodies which were tumbling off the precipitous and ominous ledge to their left. High, scoping rocks gave way to dangerous falls, and the normally dry canyon below had filled with a swirling vortex of water. A veritable whirlpool of death.
The dark prince stood uneasily on the edge of the rock, calling to his love, though he could do next to nothing.
“KIARA!”
Yet though he only cried out for one, his mind was torn between the welfare of them both: for down there, rolling and tumbling dangerously close to death, his mother and his lioness were together, if only because each was holding on and falling head-over-heels over the other in a vicious cycle.
His mother had performed many pernicious deeds in her time, and he stood on her side no longer. But it was still unnerving to see them both hurtling towards the river, especially since it was clear that her army was not with her anymore, and there was no chance of a battle happening at this point.
The vultures would have to leave and go elsewhere, for there would be no bloodshed tonight, and only those that were prepared to pick through the mud of the riverbed to find a meal would be fed… indeed, to the lionesses, the danger of the fall seemed imminent. And so it was that, from their view, the entire situation was even more dangerous than it appeared from the vantage point of the other lions.
The older lioness and the mother of the Outlander prince, Zira, had been abandoned by her own troops. She’d been given a chance to let it go, to acquiesce and join the new, unified body of lions, but she hadn’t taken it. She’d been far too dogged, far too determined to do so. Never would she allow such a compromising breach of her dignity, or the dignity of her deceased mate. She couldn’t betray herself, betray his memory… even if the rest of the crowd had. It was a shame, really, but it was just her luck. Her bad streak had started on the day of his death and had continued onwards from there. It seemed only natural that she would be the one to hit a rock and lose her hold on the other lioness… that she would go flying farther forward, closer and closer to the edge of the cliff that would surely lead to her death.
Kiara, on the other hand, was a sweet princess. Kind. Innocent. Beloved. She was too young to die—most of them would have agreed that, after all the good she’d done to help the two prides, she didn’t deserve it. It was sheer dumb luck that she was able to skid to a halt, battered and bruised but otherwise unharmed, at the sheer edge of the cliff: a miracle which she would preferably not take for granted. The young lioness shook her ruffled, golden pelt, a bit surprised, before climbing to her feet.
She could have left right then and there. She could have gone back to her home, her family, and her friends, old and new. There was nothing stopping her—and indeed, she was about to do so. To leave and go back to her mother and father, letting them know that everything was alright after all, that their disagreements had turned out well in the end and there was really nothing for them to worry about anymore. She would have smiled in the arms of the king, who, as overprotective as he could be, only wanted the best for her. Her mate would be there, with his family, and everything would be as it should have been.
But all that was cut short as she heard the scream.
Zira.
The lioness hadn’t intentionally cried for help. Indeed, the sound was little more than an inadvertent, strangled cry that was barely audible of the roaring of the rushing river. Kiara nonetheless responded, peeking over the edge of the rock face to see her adversary. Zira was hanging on to the sheer edge of the cliff, her life held by a tenuous thread as her claws desperately scrapped at the jagged drop-off. She’d fallen too far, and was lucky to even be holding on in the first place: however, she was quickly slipping and would doubtlessly succumb to the swirling water in a matter of moments if the princess did not bend down and help her enemy.
An average lioness would have run, yet after everything that had happened, Kiara felt strongly compelled to mercifully help her opponent up. Crawling as carefully as she could to the dangerous, precipitous drop below her, the princess extended her golden paw downwards towards the clutches of her adversary, hoping that Zira would defy the demands of her pride and reach towards it.
“Zira, give me your paw!”
“Rrrrrrraaah!”
Zira swiped at it, her burning red eyes practically glazed over with rage and stubbornness. She would not—no, could not grab hold. She would not forget the Pridelanders’ crimes, and she would not forgive the sins, old and yet without any hope of atonement, that the princess’s own father had committed. Doing so would be tantamount to taking the bloody, filthy, golden paw which had doubtlessly caused her mate’s undoing, oh so long ago…
She gritted her teeth together, eyes burning like fire—an antithesis to the cold, crystal whitewater below her.
“Zira… I’ll help you…”
The words were spoken in a manner which was softer and more subtle, the gentle susurrations of Kiara’s voice barely causing her ears to prick. It wasn’t forceful, and to a normal being hanging for life on the edge of a deathly, scoping cliff, it would have been very convincing and persuasive.
Krrrrrrtchhht!
The scrapping of her claws against the rock was a raspy sound, full of asperity, and it did, oddly enough, provoke a reaction of fear within the lioness. Yes, a reaction of fear in a lioness who was normally so bold, so brash, so unafraid… those were traits she had to have been, or else she never would have survived her long and unbearable years in exile, a battle of wills which involved raising her cubs and guiding her pride against a homeland which was as cruel, unforgiving, and barren as she was. They both were laid bare, left to suffer through the whim of fortune and the elements. Bad luck, bad weather… it was all the same. They’d both become desiccated, withered up and past their golden times of glory and hope and perpetual, amiable sunshine. Her home was the Outlands: it was a part of who she was.
What happened next was a mystery. Presumably it was an accident, though nobody knew for sure what exactly happened and what, precisely, the crazed lioness’s motives were. Some said she had grabbed Kiara out of spite or fear; others said she was repentant and wanted a second chance. Most were caught somewhere in between, arguing that Kiara slipped or that it was some sort of mishap. But whatever the reason, the end result was the same.
Zira—or, at least, Zira’s body and its sense of self-preservation, for her mind was still staunchly opposed to accepting help—grabbed the paw. For a moment her ragged, clawed appendage brushed against Kiara’s, and the next second she was aware of found the princess clinging to her with a death grip. There was no letting go, her paw becoming hopelessly entangled as Kiara hollowed her back and tried her hardest to heave. Zira, in the meantime, was using all her strength either to help or to hinder her: no one could tell for sure, and in any case, her efforts at grabbing the princess’s shoulders and digging her claws into her hide in an attempt to climb did not look very comfortable…
Finally a piece of the cliff broke from under Kiara’s paw. It wasn’t much, and under normal circumstances the small bits of crumbled dust and rock falling away would have never have fazed her. But alas, there was too much weight on that leg, and Zira was clutching on too hard. She suddenly lurched forwards, with nowhere to go and nothing to grab hold of. The only way she could go was down.
Zira remained in Kiara’s grasp, and Kiara remained in Zira’s. The two were holding onto each other, permanently bonded together as they fell towards death, the princess emitting a shriek of surprise as she was pulled by gravity towards her doom. All the other lions could do was watch in horror and helpless as the two lionesses, which had at one point served as mothers, leaders, daughters, cousins, mates, and friends to many of them plummeted through the course gravity aligned for them. And yet, through it all, Zira looked aloof. Whether she was merely hiding her fear or whether she had accepted her death was unknown. What was known, however, was the inevitability and irreversibleness of their deaths.
The only thing that would have given her suddenly satisfied and content outlook away was the soft, careless smile—such that never truly lit up her face anymore—given at the last moment of life before she would have to resign to her fate. No one saw it, and even she was barely aware of it. Yet she could not deny that she was happy: she had avenged her mate in at least one small way, even if all her other endeavors were universal failures. And no matter what happened, it was clear that she, Zira, would be able to see him again soon.
“Kovu, don’t you turn your back on me!”
He heard the voice. He understood the words. He, however, did not respond to them, and he refused to turn around. Besides, what more was there to say? In what other way could he berate him? Hadn’t they all been through enough?
“Kovu!”
He heard his name, but this time, its meaning escaped him. What was a ‘Kovu’? He hoped it was better than his perceptions: for to him, Kovu was merely half a being, a shell covering a soul which had been cleaved in two. He knew that—and certainly, the stubborn Simba did as well, firsthand. Which led him to ask the question: how? How could the king be so angry at him when he himself was no doubt tormented with the same pain?
The dark lion, a former prince who was royalty no longer, hung his head in resignation, knowledgeable of their loss. Whether a prince for the Outlanders or the Pridelanders, it didn’t matter: with Kiara gone, his title was gone. His chance to love and live a happy life was over, and now he was left with only the dregs of a hope which had once shone bright on him and a peevish, grief-stricken Simba.
In that one fateful moment he had lost the will to fight for everything, as he no longer possessed the ability to stand for anything. His mother, who had trained him from birth and insisted he further their pride’s plans for her, had been plunged into the river, unable to be saved. It grieved him, even if he refused to admit it, that his mother should die so alone and without a chance at redemption. It was a part of his surprising gentleness, his affable nature which had never quite been purged from him despite all that he’d been through.
Kiara, however, was another story. She was the one who had seen him for who he truly was, had bothered to draw out the good in him. They’d been friends from the start, and even years later, he had fallen for her in a way which, despite his mother’s plotting, was anything but a mere ploy.
And now she was gone.
Silence filled his pensive self. What to do now? Grieve? Or do something… else? How, exactly, should he feel?
He stopped, briefly thinking of how Zira, his mother, must have felt when his stepfather was taken away. At the time of the battle that was to happen, he’d gone against her, and defied her struggles to avenge her love… but now he had to admit that he related with her motives far better than he ever had when he’d been with her.
“… Yes, Simba?”
He mumbled, the suddenly dark timbre of his voice barely audible as he remained in place, pointedly refusing to turn around. A hard, stubborn part of him kept him glued to the floor, even as he could sense the golden lion’s rising anger.
“What more could you say to me, Your Highness? Can’t you see that I have to deal with your daughter’s loss too?”
His interlocutor only scowled, seemingly irritated with his impudence, though Kovu had no real reason to be afraid. Not only was his physically bigger and stronger, but the most Simba ever seemed to use his power for was exiling subjects which displeased him. He knew so firsthand. Both times it had happened.
Alas, his relationship with what would have been his father-in-law had always been tense. He had the physical characteristics of his stepfather—Simba’s uncle and predecessor, as well as a lion whom he still personally held a grudge against—and that negative association had seemingly trickled down to him. The king never trusted Kovu and, after begrudgingly accepting him into the pride years after his family’s banishment, had only turned around to exile him a second time after an incident which was not his fault and was clearly lacking in evidence. Indeed, Kovu could tell that it had merely been Simba’s attempt to assert his authority, to flex his claws and wield his power. He had come to expect that much from him: and if their relationship had started off that strained, it was only bound to get worse after Kiara had been taken away from them. He was surprised that he hadn’t banished him already, although that was probably only because he wanted to preserve the faux aura of peace, an atmosphere which had since deteriorated and was a struggle for the group of disillusioned lions to maintain. Banishing Kovu may well have been the straw that broke the camel’s back.
And so he kept him around, although truthfully, tempers flared often on both sides.
“Silence! I should have been more protective of her—can’t you see what your family has done?”
Again he wondered: what should he do? Should he be the better of the two and accept that Kiara’s father needed space, time to mourn and grieve? He’d already tried that. He wasn’t the only one who had lost a part of them… Why should he bend his neck and accept it yet again? She was gone. What was there to do now? Why did this happen? He thought back to how excited he’d been to start a new life, the prospect of being in love and ascending to rule a beautiful kingdom with his soon-to-be mate. That would be no longer.
“They did nothing! We joined your side—do you think we wanted this to happen?”
It was true. His siblings, his pride brothers and sisters… they hadn’t resisted. Convincing them to avoid a long-drawn-out battle and erase the years of division between them had been a surprisingly simple affair after all. It was his mother alone who had, whether directly or indirectly, caused the occurrence… and though he did not approve of her methods of revenge, looking back with distaste on his coerced childhood and seeing just how much he had been manipulated as her weapon of vengeance, he did now see the past for what it was with an unbiased eye. He’d come to realize that the Pridelanders weren’t all soft, snobby, and ridiculously unfair—Kiara in particular was the exception. Yet in spite of that he saw, in some ways, where she had come from. While he would not think of shattering what Kiara stood for through blind, ruthless acts of reprisal, he now realized that that was not all that was at play, just as Zira’s desire to avenge her mate was ultimately not her only motive. The fight to survive, the struggle to raise her cubs who had been unfairly exiled, the years of humiliation which had added insult to injury and rubbed salt in all their wounds… that was something he could understand. For even though he was not affected personally by the death of his stepfather, he did, in fact, grow up under the years of oppression in the Outlands. Years of exile which could have been easily prevented, but were instead encouraged by this very king.
Others of the Pridelands—the good ones, the sensible ones—had tried to talk sense into him. But Kovu had learned, early on, that Simba was the intransigent type.
“She is my daughter!” the larger male roared aggressively, red mane billowing in the wind. He talked in the present tense, clearly opposed to the idea of letting go… “and I should have known that something like this would happen!”
“Yeah, because you didn’t lock her up well enough, right? When will you learn? I helped her—more than you ever did, Your Highness.”
He talked like he could have prevented it, but he didn’t realize… sometimes things like this happened. It was for a reason. He’d lost family members as well: a brother, a stepfather, a mother. Simba was not the only one. Yet instead of turning his back on the world and running away, as the golden king once had, Kovu had tried to find the reason. The answer.
In the end he realized that it must not have been meant to be. Alas, that realization was probably the only thing keeping him from being worse off emotionally. And even if it wasn’t true, he wanted so desperately to believe in it. Him being with Kiara must not have been planned, and so it had been denied of him. Surely that was the explanation. That life had ended, and the ship had sailed… which led him to other questions. Other thoughts on his life, his purpose, his… destiny.
What of it now?
He watched with contempt, contentions continuing strongly in his mind as the lion, now more short-tempered than ever, kept arguing. As to whatever inane argument he proffered, Kovu didn’t remember—it didn’t matter. It was all the same. He was right, and the others… well, they didn’t know any better. Kovu would have laughed at his arrogance. Indeed, he understood more than ever their straits. The Pridelanders were not the enemy. Simba, in his own way, was… he was against the Outlanders due to his own silly prejudices, and he couldn’t even look out for his daughter without restraining her.
He was doing good for no one.
What to do?
… What to do? How to remedy it? He watched as Simba retreated off to the cave, his own personal sleeping quarters. It was his way of shunning him: Kovu, who was not royalty, could not enter without permission and had to sleep elsewhere. Not that that bothered Simba. He’d been fine with Kovu sleeping out in the cold before. This was his method of distancing himself from his younger counterpart, which both knew was probably beneficial.
Yet Kovu felt that he deserved a voice… and, moreover, that he deserved to be in there. He deserved to be royalty, to live as a king. After all he’d been through, after all the hard years of training and starving in a veritable desert, and after all he’d fought for… he deserved to lead his pride—and the Pridelanders as well.
His mother had always told him that he would be king one day. Whether through force or through marriage, that was bound to come true. Perhaps it was not to be with Kiara, but somewhere he could feel that he was meant to be a king.
He didn’t have to divide the pride… he held no animosity towards the Pridelanders as a group and was confident he could lead them along with the kinship bond he felt with his own Outlands family. Yet he was beginning to understand his place… how his path related to that of his mother and stepfather, yet was unique and righteous in its own way. He could be king, he could unify the pride. He would be better than those that came before him. He would be the epitome of their struggle… the good thing that came out of their hard labor. The light at the end of the tunnel.
He was Kovu. The prince of the Outlands. The unifier of the prides. And suddenly he realized what he had to do.
He would not go on a trip of vengeance like his mother, nor would he abuse his usurped power like his father. But instead he would do what was necessary, inherit the throne which was meant for him and take his place among the pride. He would follow his own path, independent of others’ choices for once in his life, and proceed to his own destiny.
The dark lion walked to the mouth of the cave slowly, reassuring himself. As far as he could see, it was a win-win. He would be a king, as was expected of him, yet he would hold the prides together peacefully as Kiara had wanted—the Outlanders would be ruled by one of their own again. Kiara would be reunited with her father, and his mother would not have died needlessly. It was one simple solution, one quick fix to a problem which had been plaguing them since the beginning. He unsheathed a single claw, knowing that his training, however much he’d deplored it, would prepare him for this moment. He crouched outside the entrance of the cave, flexing his claws…
And then Kovu smiled, a sudden grimace which showcased his bared fangs, as he prepared to execute the fateful job he had failed oh so long ago…
If there is a silver lining to all of the delays, it's that we have a full six stories to read before voting! And because we have these many, I will allow you guys to vote for the best two stories and not one, but in the end, there will still be one winner. Also, even with these many stories in, there is still at least one member who asked for the extension and failed to deliver. You know who you are. Do you want all of MLK to know that it's because of you that there aren't seven stories in the contest? Okay, I'm kidding. But seriously: if you ask for a deadline extension, you owe me a story.
Voting rules are: Don't vote for yourself, and don't vote for a story that you simply know was written by a friend. Don't ask others to vote for your story either. Read each one carefully and give all the stories the same consideration before you make your decision.
Good luck to you writers, and have a great time readers!
