Chapter 1: The Visitors
The Mountain Kingdom is known for being luscious and prosperous—the throne rests in a vast African jungle, situated on the side of a towering mountain. The bright greens and yellows of the foliage stand out in stark contrast against the coats of most lions, as do the deep shadows and multitudinous rainbow coloured jungle flowers and creatures. The depths of the jungle hide a paradise like none to be found in the savannahs most prides call home. There are striking waterfalls flowing over shimmering caverns, surrounded by sparkling springs. Moss covers many a stone, making the area soft and beautiful. The springs provide an infinite source of water for the pride residing there, and the falls make it easy for the lions to keep cool even in the greenhouse of dense foliage. The coves beneath the falls provide cover and protection, hiding the pride behind roaring waters and masking their scents to deceive attackers. Surprise defensive attacks are a simple feat in this land, and the lions of the ruling pride are known for their adept reflexes and ninja-like skills at combat and hunting, hiding in the shadows and using the abundance of trees and water to aid their assault. The kingdom’s pride is known for the dark, muddy brown pelts they wear; pelts which aid them in all of their endeavors. To put it simply, the Mountain Kingdom is one of the best places that anyone could live. It is from here that I originate, but this land is not my home.
My father is the current king of the Mountain Pride, a burly and dark lion known as Mahesha, and I am his firstborn cub. As such, I was supposed to be next in line for the throne, but… things don’t always turn out the way you’re brought to expect. Perhaps I should start at the beginning.
As a cub, I was absolutely content in the bountiful life and lands I had been fortunate enough to be born into. I had no reason not to be. There was no shortage of food or of water, the locale provided sufficient cover that rogues were never a problem, and I had three siblings, younger than me only by minutes, with whom to spend all of my time playing. We were the apples of our parents’ collective eyes. Being the eldest, I was destined to become queen of this land, and I was amazed at the prospect of owning and ruling such a beautiful kingdom. My sister, Sarabi, would be my right hand, unless they found a neighboring kingdom with a son to whom she could be betrothed. And our two younger sisters, Diku and Dwala, were destined to become grand huntresses. Not to say that Sarabi and I would not be trained to hunt as well. The art of using the shadows to overtake prey and opponents was a sacred skill among our pride, one that each and every lion and lioness was taught to wield with expert prowess. It was something that set us apart from the other prides, and made us the proud people that we were.
Even the foreign male cub, Hari, who had been brought in alongside his mother, with the sole purpose of being my future mate, was being trained in this skill. He was quite the unique lion cub, standing out from even his mother, colour-wise. His coat was a dull yellow-gold, and his lower jaw was white, while his upper jaw was orangey. His paws bore the same colouration as his upper jaw, as did the area below his eyes. His barely growing mane was a reddish colour that never occurred on the manes of males from around here. Put simply, he was hard to miss. And he was one of the best friends I could have asked for. As a cub, I wasn’t bothered at all by the prospect of someday being his bride and queen. I didn’t think of anything else, for what else was there than living up to the expectations and enjoying life in the paradise I had been born into? The pride, and myself, lived quite happily under the assumption that our future was absolute and secure, until in my adolescence, things began to get muddily unclear.
I began to notice something wasn’t right when Sarabi was, in fact, betrothed. The queen of the Pridelands, Uru, had originated from our kingdom, and so it came to pass that she returned to the land with her eldest son, Mufasa, to seek a future queen. It was the talk of the kingdom—this would be the second consecutive generation of Prideland queens to be chosen from our people, and it was quite the honour to further unite our kingdom with theirs.
The breeze was softly tugging at the branches of trees and causing their leaves to dance merrily on the day that Uru brought Mufasa to meet my sister. The pride’s daily training unit had set out in the predawn hours by way of the treetops, but midday saw them returning rather unexpectedly—by foot, no less. The training units are being schooled in the sacred stealth skills our clan so honours, and as such, this sudden and quite unorthodox approach by ground quickly caught and held the pride’s attention. The ground travel, however, was not the only odd aspect of this display, as the group was accompanied by two strangers.
The one was a fully grown lioness, with a deep mahogany pelt, darker than most of our coats but not unusual for us, or even some other prides. She had a lean, muscular body and could have fit right in with our pride. At her side strode a male who was burly and powerful to behold. His flaming red mane had yet to fill out, betraying his age to be one of our generation. As the strangers drew nearer, I noticed that they were being escorted to the den in which my parents often conducted royal business. The closer they got, the more excited and loud the older generation got, surprising me as I came to discover that the lioness was not a stranger to most of the pride. They began to exclaim things along the lines of “Her ladyship Uru has returned! Such an honour to be in her presence once again.”
“Who is Uru?” Hari asked quizzically. Dwala shoved him roughly and indicated, with a paw, the golden male beside the lioness whom we had to presume was Uru.
“Who cares who she is! Who is
he?” she demanded, a dreamy look coming over her eyes.
“He’s very cute,” Sarabi said, as I noticed that somehow, he seemed nervous, despite exuding confidence as he approached with the lioness.
“He’s not just cute, he’s
handsome,” Diku added, “Look at that body—such excellent musculature.”
“He’s
hot,” Dwala chirped. I raised an eyebrow, not really seeing it myself. He looked like any other lion to me.
“I bet his mane is softer than down feathers,” Sarabi murmured, as if in a trance, her eyes following him closely. In fact, I noticed that all three of my sisters were gaping, open-jawed and—in Dwala’s case—drooling, after the teen lion as he disappeared through the waterfall and into our parents’ royal cove. After the male’s disappearance, they each shook their heads, Sarabi blushed ever so slightly, and Dwala used the back of her paw to wipe away the drool.
“Get a grip on yourselves, girls. He’s just a lion,” I reminded them, moving nearer to the cove’s entrance and trying to get a good view of the inner chamber through the roaring waters, “I’m just curious as to what he’s doing here, and who is Uru? They’re obviously very important… but how so?”
Dwala groaned. “Are you really that daft? He’s a prince of course, come to be betrothed to Sarabi, no doubt. You and her have always been predestined to be the lucky ones just for being born first. It’s no fair…”
“I know,” Diku added, “Why don’t we get to find mates and have cubs? It really isn’t fair at all. You take what you have for granted, Naanda.”
“No I don’t!” I retorted defensively, “Hari’s my best friend. I know I’m lucky to have him as my betrothed.”
“Cos I’m such a stud,” Hari murmured smugly.
“That just proves my point, Naanda. When will you learn? All you think of him as is a friend. But look at that nice pelt and his mane… and look just how nice and sweet he is. Do you even realize what a great catch you’ve got? Even if he is Tanglemane,” Diku continued. Tanglemane was our cubhood nickname for Hari; he’d acquired it for getting his mane tangled in brambles and brush often when it had been just starting to grow. He’d try to disappear into the jungle like the rest of us, but within moments, the yellow cub would be dangling out of the tree by his paws and some red strands, wrapped thickly around a bough, or in a bird’s nest, and when the pride’s lionesses would get him down, he’d have leaves and sometimes flowers tangled in his mane. While he’d grown out of getting it tangled, he hadn’t ever outgrown the name.
“Of course I do,” I answered nervously, not really sure if I truly did. I mean, I never felt special to have him, it was just a fact of life. He would be my mate someday, and so we had been brought up together. That is how life had always been and always would be. The romantic tales the lionesses liked to relate to one another in which the princess found true love and married the lion of her dreams… those weren’t real. They were nothing but fairy tales, crafted to allow the lonesome huntresses to fantasize and mentally mimic the experience of having a mate… and as such, they were idealized, and made further and further from what I understood reality to be. It was such fanciful nonsense that had filled my sisters’ heads and convinced them I was somehow luckier than they for having a future husband. “I just don’t understand what the big deal is. This is just how life goes. I’m not luckier than you two to have a mate on hand. Get those love stories out of your heads—marriage isn’t like that. It’s a political thing, you know, to make sure the ruler gets knocked up.”
Hari’s face soured. “Good to know I’m just here to someday give you cubs, sweetie pie,” he retorted with heavy sarcasm, rising on his paws and striding away, “Marriage talk is for lionesses anyway…”
“Ugh, you’re hopeless,” Dwala snarled.
“What?”
“Have you never felt
anything? Do you have emotions at all? How could you say that? Much less in front of Hari? Maybe to
you marriage is simply political, but to him it’s so much more than that! That guy has been head over heels for you for ages, but you just reduce that to politics. You should be ashamed of yourself,” she went on, showing her teeth and flaring her nostrils. I was incredibly hurt by her accusations. Could they be true? In truth I wasn’t even sure what I was meant to feel for my future king—after all, doesn’t one have love for their friends? And hadn’t I said Hari was my best friend? What else was I supposed to feel, to think, to do? Ought I drool over his appearance in likeness of my sisters over this newcomer? Should I forego honesty with him in order to stroke his ego and shower him with praise?
“Dwala, what is wrong with you…?” I gasped, my face contorted with sadness.
“What’s wrong with you, Naanda? Come on, Diku… let’s go console the poor guy.”
With that, my two sisters huffed, and stalked away, their pawsteps plodding heavily against the damp earth as they disappeared into the trees in the same direction Hari had gone. My gaze locked on the place to whence they’d all quit for a few moments before flittering away to stare instead, forlorn, at my pawtoes. The ghosts of tears danced around in my eyes as I contemplated the implications of my alleged emotionlessness, and the coldness with which I had just been treated, by my dear sister, on account of it. It was clear Hari had felt hurt by my words, but why? There was no other lion I cared more for. I couldn’t figure it out at all. What was wrong with me that I couldn’t feel, or even understand, the feelings I was obviously meant to feel?
“I don’t understand… what did I do…?” I murmured to myself.
“Don’t let them get you down, Naanda. It’s okay if you aren’t in love with Hari. You can’t control who it is you fall for,” Sarabi said softly.
“No! That’s not it… I do love him. He’s my best friend,” I explained, “I feel more for him than anyone else. But… love is not all they make it out to be in those fancies the lionesses come up with. It’s just not. I mean, look at mom and dad! They don’t seem to be anything other than good friends,” I replied, defending myself, “We love our friends and family. Hari is no different. I won’t be upset or anything to become his mate.”
“‘Hari is no different...’ Naanda, that tells more than you realize. Do not fret over it. You’ll be fine, and he’ll be fine; they’ll get over it,” my sister offered calmly. I scratched at my chin with a paw, unsure of what she meant per se, and not sure as to how to proceed from here.
“Well, should I—” I started to speak, but I was cut off by our mother emerging from the waterfall and addressing the two of us immediately.
“Sarabi, Naanda, please come in. There’s someone we’d like the two of you to meet, and things we should discuss.”
Without delay, we rose on our paws and ducked our heads into the waterfall, leaping through. The torrential downpour drenched our fur and soaked us to the skin. We were used to this, as most of our caves hid behind these natural fountains, but I still hated it every single time. I don’t have anything against water, or getting wet. No, I just don’t like being soaked to the bone and finding myself trembling from chills despite the heat and humidity of the jungle. It’s a rather unpleasant sensation to endure repetitively throughout any given day. I understand and respect the value and necessity of such a defense—however, when no enemies can even find this place, it can become quite the nuisance. Especially so, when the sheer force of the water is taken into account; the torrents crashing down upon a spine can do lasting damage to the body of a lion. But I digress.
In the royal chamber, we saw the two strangers, where they sat adjacent to our father. The adolescent male stranger appeared more nervous than he had outside, while the older female positively radiated with pride. Sarabi, my mother, and I strode across the den to take seats before the trio.
“Naanda,” my father began, “Pay close attention. You will be in this place one day, when you and Hari have cubs.” I nodded. Our king continued, “This is Uru and her step-son Mufasa. Our kingdom is Uru’s birthplace, but she was betrothed to King Ahadi of the Pride Lands in her youth. Now, his heir has come of age, and as yet has not been betrothed himself. Mufasa is here, Sarabi, as your future mate. The two of you will spend a few days together, and then you shall leave for the Pride Lands together if all goes well.”
So, my sisters had been right about this lion’s visit. Sarabi’s jaw dropped and her face became parrot red from blushing. I felt my chest tighten. I didn’t want Sarabi to leave so soon, she was the only one of my sisters who had seemed to think there wasn’t something wrong with me, but as my mouth went dry, I glanced at her to see her flashing a nervous smile at Mufasa. He returned the look, perhaps even more nervously than she had given it, and Uru spoke up.
“I speak for myself and my king when I say it honors us to unite the Mountain Kingdom and the Pride Lands once more in this new generation. May our kingdoms forever be the best of friends and allies.”
“I couldn’t have said it better myself,” my father replied.
“We cannot thank you enough for this opportunity, Mahesha,” Uru continued.
“But I don’t know how to be a queen,” Sarabi blurted, finally having found her voice.
“It won’t be hard, just look pretty and use a firm paw with the cubs,” I quipped with a smug grimace. This resulted in my mother cuffing me on the back of the head with an admittedly firm paw.
“Yes, Sarabi, just like that,” she said, and the shimmering cavern erupted into chortles for a moment. Until my father cleared his throat loudly, cutting our merriment short.
“Marriage and ruling a kingdom are no laughing matter. Sarabi your duties will be serious. You and Naanda have invaluable positions in our prides. Without you, things will be rather difficult. As queens, you must provide the pride with an heir. You must lead the hunting party. You must raise your cubs with affection and sternness and teach them the ways of our people. You must teach them to hunt and discuss politics with your mates and neighboring tribes, you must help your mates deal with the kingdoms subjects and resolve their disputes; no creature is to be treated unfairly for any reason or it could upset the Circle of Life. As queens you must understand and respect that balance, and you must be prepared for the duties that you will have to perform. There is no longer time for childish tomfoolery and fantasies. No longer is there time for fancies and dreams—you live to serve your people,” my father explained in a very serious tone. None of this was new to me, I’d heard it all a hundred times or more in my days, but for some reason, it suddenly hit me and it didn’t sound too nice. Why should I be considered lucky, to have so much expected of me, and so much pressure and power placed upon me? My parents expected greatness from me, but was I capable of such things? I don’t know what made me have such ominous doubts. Perhaps a part of me already knew what I had yet to consciously discover. Perhaps it was because of what had just happened outside the cave with my sisters. Whatever it was, I was beginning to feel like the unluckiest sister. Especially when my father added one last comment, “Naanda will have even more duties than you will, Sarabi, being that you are not the heir to the Pride Lands, but his mate. You will have limited political responsibilities that will merely be that of aiding Mufasa when he needs it.”
“And I will teach you about what is expected of you in the Pride Lands. I had to learn it all at your age myself,” Uru explained with a kind smile. Sarabi beamed at her.
“I will do my best to make you all proud and do the right thing,” she responded cheerily. My heart sunk a little bit. She was dying to do this, wasn’t she?
“Oh Sarabi, don’t tell me you’ve let Diku’s and Dwala’s romantic fantasies infect you as well,” I groaned, rubbing my forehead with a paw. She turned a sheepish smile towards me.
“Alright. Then I won’t tell you,” she murmured, returning her dreamy orbs to Mufasa, who’s face mirrored hers, his big snout seeming positively delighted and kind. I had never once cast a stare like that at Hari, never had I been so enamored with him to be so lost in his eyes. Was it true that I didn’t love him, not in the correct way? I shook the thought away. That was impossible, wasn’t it? We’d been the best of friends for our entire lives. How could I not be? It was foolishness, it was just those stories they obsessed over. Mufasa must have been told many of them in the Pride Lands too. That was the only explanation for all of this. With that thought, my mind eased a bit and I let myself return to normal trains of thought. All of my life I had been prepared for the position of queen. I had been prepared for my duties, trained in the pride’s stealth, and prepared to be Hari’s mate. It wasn’t news, it wasn’t unexpected and it wasn’t anything approaching an impossible task. I would be the queen and mother I was destined to be and everyone would be happy. Just not outrageously happy like those stories teach gullible lionesses like my sisters to desire.
“I’m glad to see you two seem to share a common attraction already. Sarabi, why don’t you give Mufasa a tour of our home? He will be staying here for a few days and might like to know his way around. After that you two can start getting to know one another,” my father suggested. Sarabi nodded eagerly and the two trotted—practically skipped—away through the waterfall. My father continued, “Hjördís, Uru, would you mind organizing the hunting party? Then the two of you and some of the other lionesses who remember Uru can catch up while the party catches and prepares our celebratory feast.”
“Of course, my dear,” my mother replied, taking the other lioness with her and making their leave through the waterfall. I rose on my paws also, looking at my father with eager impatience, a hunt would be a good distraction to get these thoughts of romance and uncertainty out of my head.
“May I be dismissed also, Father? I’d like to participate in the hunt,” I explained.
“Actually, Naanda, there’s more I’d like to discuss with you in private. It’s of the utmost importance.”
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A/N: I'm going to wait about posting the second chapter to prevent immediate triple-posting. I don't like that spoiler tags apparently don't exist here, but oh well, people looking for fanfics can deal with walls of text.
