Destined

[YFWE]

HEY DUDES.

At the blessing of Az, who said we could post our fanfics from the Writing Contest individually if we so desired now that it's all over, I figured I'd throw this one out thurr and talk about it for a sec. I'm definitely pleased with the end result, though if I had had more room to expand a bit on some points, I would have. I actually started writing this a few weeks ago (like the first six paragraphs) and then set it down until I heard about the contest (a day before the deadline, too... D:). I knew it didn't fit the prompt I was going for completely, but... eh, I figured I'd throw it in the ring and see what would happen. Never hurts.

Anyway, here it is. I'm OCD in that it was going to bother me if I didn't post this one here too, even if it's already in the contest thread, else I probably would have just left it alone. ah well.


Destined

The lion cub bounds playfully across the arid savanna ground, his paws slightly tinted from dust and dirt, his brown pelt also caked with the stuff. His sister lopes behind him. She is trying to keep up, teeth gritted and eyes narrowed in determination. The blazing summer sun shines brightly above, and both cubs cannot help but feel zapped of their usual youthful energy due to its warm rays.

“Kweli, this isn’t fair!” cries the lioness cub, her voice wavering as she fights to keep her brother in view. Kweli is dodging in between bushes and large tree trunks by now, his claws clinging to the dirt and occasional grass to grant him better traction.

“Y-you weren’t list-ening when I said go!” calls Kweli in between breaths as he runs along. “Fair as can b-be, Aina!”

The prize is in sight, and the two cubs race toward it with infectious pining, the shimmering waters of the oasis nearly within their grasp. Kweli is the first to arrive, and announces this boldly, chest puffed outward, his face twisted in triumph. “And the future king wins again!”

Aina scowls at her brother as she arrives to the finish shortly after, licking her golden fur clean. “Pffh, you got a head start,” she growls. “I could’ve taken you easily. You’re not as fast as you think, Kweli.”

“Oh, don’t be a sore loser,” her brother says, smirking almost mockingly.

The little golden lioness glowers at the smiling cub and, with an irritated grunt, launches herself toward him, her front paws outstretched. “Hey!” cries Kweli, unable to match the blow as he is pinned to the ground on his back, his sister standing, teeth bared, above him.

“That’s enough, you two.”

Aina steps off her brother and paws the ground, her gaze downcast. “He’s not being fair again, mom.”

The sleek golden lioness that had been following at a distance behind them saunters up to her daughter and simply smiles. The young cub takes a look at her and frowns. “I get it,” she says in a small voice. “It’s all about Kweli.”

“Now Aina,” her mother sighs, “you know that’s not the case.”

“—yet,” Kweli chimes in with a toothy grin. A scornful look from his mother causes him to cower away, deciding that a drink at the bluish pool of water would be a splendid idea.

But this is already too much for Aina. “I hate this! I hate this pride!” she cries, her small frame padding away from her mother and scampering off toward the tall blades of grass nearby. “Always second to Kweli!” she moans. “I wish I hadn’t been born!”

No sooner has she spoken these words when a large foreleg catches the cub around her stomach, pulling her close. Aina struggles, first in fear and then in fervent annoyance once she looks up to see her father. “Dad, let me go!” cries Aina. “Come on!”

Her father bends over and grasps the cub within his jowls. Aina feels tears welling in her emerald eyes, but blinks them away so that her dad will not see her cry. Kweli never cries, she thought. Neither should I.

Kovu sets his daughter down in between he and her mother, who glances down at her sternly. Her brother, meanwhile, has rejoined the party, an air of smugness to him – but curtailed, as he knows he is presently in his parents’ good graces.

“Now, Aina,” her father starts, his right paw resting atop her, “you know that’s a horrible thing to say, right?”

“And over something so little,” her mother, Kiara, adds. Aina can only sniffle. She feels they are right – and surely she does enjoy having been born – but her frustration is still paramount. Always second to Kweli, just barely…

“Especially considering that what you wished for almost actually happened,” continues Kiara softly. The two cubs’ heads swivel quickly, staring at their mother in unease.

Kovu, too, looks at his mate, but with a slightly exasperated look. “Er… hon, I thought we were here to have fun, not to hear that story.” A pacifying look from Kiara follows, and he shuts his mouth, patiently waiting for one of the cubs to speak.

Finally, Kweli: “Does that mean…”

“Yes, Kweli. The same to you. And, in fact, the same to me as well.”

The cubs’ eyes are filled with a mixture of apprehension and eagerness, and sensing that they are waiting for her to continue, Kiara speaks again, “Your grandmother, my mother, Queen Nala – the Kings rest her soul – almost did not become King Simba’s queen. And had she not, well, none of us would be ourselves at all, would we?”

Aina is amazed. “But… I thought you said that Grandma and Grandpa loved each other since they were cubs!”

“Yeah!” adds Kweli. “Be… be… roved…?”

“Betrothed,” Kiara corrects him with a laugh. “And yes, yes they were. But while Simba was away from the Pridelands… well, here, gather in,” she says, bringing Kweli closer and sitting his sister alongside him.

This is the story of how you and I nearly didn’t come to be.

For you see, my mother, Nala, was a brave lioness, braver than any lioness I have ever known. After Scar took over this kingdom, she was a rock on which many of the lionesses could lean upon, a beacon of hope in a time of dark peril.

When Nala was old enough, a fully grown lioness, there hatched a plan for her to set out on her own to find help. Things had become worse for her during Scar’s reign as she aged, and the lionesses felt that if anyone would be able to risk their life crossing uncertain terrains to hopefully one day rid the kingdom of their brutish ruler, it was she.

And so she left one night, when the moon was at its faintest. No one saw her leave, not even the hyena patrols around the borders.

“Hyenas?!” Kweli exclaims, his blue eyes glimmering with wonder. “Whoa…”

“Don’t be too excited,” murmurs Kovu, smiling. “I thought it sounded cool when I was younger, too. But under Scar, they were pretty nasty.”

Nala walked for days, drinking little water and eating even less food. The lands immediately beyond the Pridelands are rough and arid, certainly no place for a living creature such as ourselves to reside. Eventually, her entire body aching in pain from dehydration and exhaustion, your grandmother collapsed, and that should have been all anyone ever heard from her.

But Nala woke up. And when she did, she was no longer in the desert. No, she was in the jungle, and a luscious one at that. She looked up from her spot on a bed of vines and soft leaves, and found a black lion staring back at her.

“But black lions… those couldn’t possibly exist!” whispers Aina, glancing up at her father, who sends her a firm look which tells her to not interrupt her mother.

This lion had markings all about him, white ones, lines which ran the full length of his body. His mane was nearly as black as his coat. And he was big, strong. Bigger and stronger than any lion who has set foot within our lands, even your great-grandfather, Mufasa.

“Welcome,” said the lion. “My name is Kuhani. What is yours?”

My mother told him her name and where she had come from. Kuhani told her that he had saved her from almost certain death in the hot sun, and that she would be safe there.

Nala had fallen in love, partially out of gratitude for his gesture, and partly because of the allure that Kuhani possessed. I am told he was remarkable to be in the presence of, a true wonder. And your grandmother had not loved someone since Simba, and for all she knew he was dead. Furthermore, she saw Kuhani as the potential savior of our pride. She thought that if she could convince him to come with her to Pride Rock, he would strike down Scar and reign supreme over the lands, she as his queen.

Kiara glances up to look at her children. Kweli is leaned slightly forward, seemingly about to fall forward as he awaits the story’s continuation. Aina seems nonplussed, though in her head she is formulating what may have happened – and what, as a result, could have happened to her.

Nala spent many moons in the care and company of Kuhani. She told me they would take long walks in the jungle, speaking of the stars and of life. Kuhani, it turned out, was a rogue who was turned away from his pride at a young age, because instead of wanting to become the pride’s next king as he was destined to be, he instead wanted to become a shaman – much like Rafiki in our lands.

I can’t say much else of what happened between the two, but I do know that one day, my mother confessed to Kuhani that she had fallen in love with him. And then she told the story of Simba and his death, and of what she had been sent to do. She asked him to return to Pride Rock with her, as her mate.

But Kuhani sensed something within Nala, something from the Great Kings themselves. Finally he shook his head, saying that he could not leave the jungle. He asked to be excused for a moment, and he consulted the Kings on this.

When he returned to Nala, he had this to say: “It is said that when two souls that are destined to be together, their streams of light flow together, and a single brighter light goes forth from their united being. Somewhere there's someone who dreams of your smile, of your embrace, and his light shines brightest with your light. I see now that I am not your destined, Nala.”

Nala was hurt and bewildered, but listened to Kuhani as he spoke again. “You are destined for great things, Nala, and so is your own destined one. He is out somewhere in the wild – near here, I sense. Deep in your heart, in your soul, he is that who you love. You may not believe me currently, but in due time, dear, you shall.”

As much as she had rather not in that moment, Nala trusted Kuhani with her entire being. And with a heavy heart, she left Kuhani. And from there…

“Simba?” asks Aina hopefully.

Smiling, Kiara nods. “And you and Kweli know the rest, I’m sure.”

Kweli sits back on his haunches and laughs almost triumphantly. Aina, too, is happy. She leaps to her paws. “And then came you, mom!”

“And I’m very glad she did,” Kovu purrs, rubbing his head against his queen’s.

Aina plays out the successive series of events in her mind gleefully, thinking fondly of her mother’s retelling of the union between she and her father, and then her father’s rise to become king, followed by her own birth, just minutes after Kweli’s. It is then that she is reminded of the reason for her outburst in the first place and, now glumly, glances up at her mother. “So… we really almost didn’t exist? I almost wasn’t born?”

“That’s right, Aina, dear. Had Nala stayed with Kuhani, or if Kuhani had come to the Pridelands, things would have been much different for a lot of lions and lionesses. But Kuhani was wise and knew that the path to Nala’s happiness and our pride’s saving lay not in his desires. Who knows – maybe the Kings showed him your beautiful little face that was yet to come, maybe that convinced him,” her mother says happily, planting an affectionate lick against her daughter’s face.

Aina grins widely, but is then sorrowful once more. “Then… wow… I’m sorry for saying those things, mom. I didn’t actually mean it, you know.”

Kovu nuzzles his daughter. “We all say things we don’t mean sometimes, Ai. Just be careful next time, because your mother might have a story for that, too.”

After much doting-upon by her parents, Aina stalks over to her brother. Kweli seems to have realized that he is at fault for having upset his sister, and wears a downcast expression. “I’m… sorry, Aina. I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings. I really never mean to or anything.”

Aina lands a small punch against her brother’s foreleg. “I could forgive you, I think, Kweli.” She pauses. “On one condition…”

“Hm?” Kweli stares at her, bemused.

“As long as you promise to clean up after yourself after you eat my dust when I beat you to the waterhole.”

And she is gone.

[MalibuTrashDog]

I don't understand why no one has commented on this yet. This is truly a wonderful story, so detailed and the flow was lovely. As I read I could actually picture the story in my head, what the characters looked like. It was like being able to view a movie. I was engaged in the story as well.

You've done an excellent job. Kudos to you.

[YFWE]

omg an review! <3

thanks a lot silly, you're far too kind. ccc:

[Azdgari]

you're not allowed to post contest pieces in the forum, you a hole.

[YFWE]

It's ok, the guy who runs them said I could. C:

[WildSimba]

[quote="Azdgari"]you're not allowed to post contest pieces in the forum, you a hole.[/quote]

[Azdgari]

[YFWE]

OH U GUYZ

[Baya]

Lol. I love this section. Dude, if I read this earlier I would've definitely commented! Awesome piece of work! I can see the cycle of history truly doesn't end

[YFWE]

Thanks much, sir! <3 Glad you enjoyed. =]