9 - You can't die! You owe me money!

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Hidden by the thick brambles that encompassed it like the ventricles in a heart, the secret lake awaited the arrival of Timon and Zula (who were the only mammals that knew of it, besides from Pumbaa). The pool looked serene and undisturbed, its reflective waters painting the outstretched branches that framed the sky. The trees were flowering with apricot blossoms. As the branches shook in the wind, the sweet aroma caught in their noses. A few of these pink blossoms drifted from the branches and landed gracefully in the water, where twinkles of silver danced just beneath the surface. Zula knew these to be fish, but she had never tried to eat them because they were so foreign and curious. She bent down near the water's edge and glided her paws over the surface as if she was stroking it - she watched as the gentle ripple rode the water and morphed her reflection.

A jet of water splashed her in the face. She cringed and shook herself off, drying the water from her eyes. When she looked again she found Timon paddling in the water, doing an excellent backstroke and giving the fish all severe panic attacks in once action. Timon sighed pensively.
"Now this is the life." Timon said, "All it could use is one of those coconut drinks, a little chamber music, maybe a floating platter of grubs..."
"And a group of female meerkats doing the Hula." Zula teased. Timon chuckled as he spread his arms in a downward spiral, disappearing under the water. Backing up to a gentle slope near the entrance to the lake, Zula dashed to the edge of the water and leapt into the lake with a mangled yell.

The water sent a chill through her body, echoing through her as a shiver. It was such a funny thing to swim, Zula thought as she floated motionlessly in the water. It was like being free from the bonds of the earth, being light as a hornbill as it twittered through the air - soaring, swaying, falling, gliding. . .only, eventually one would resurface and realise that it was all as surreal as a cub's dream. If not for the burning in her chest, Zula would like to have stayed there and let her feelings mull over. Forget about those whiskered faces she left behind. Ignore the burning intensity of Simba's golden, sun set eyes for just a moment so that she could feel like she was whole again. A deeper twang of nostalgia thrummed over her heart as a different face twirled above her head. A darker, older lion with a silky black mane and intelligent, witty eyes. . .

Zula broke the surface, panting. Around her, bubbles escaped the surface of the lake like drowning victims thrashing in the ocean. She swam to the interlinking river and rested on its banks, breathing softly and allowing her nerves to settle. Here she could see her uncle still bathing in the waters, but he wore a look of concern that made her feel surprisingly guilty.  
"I almost thought you were a goner." Timon said, leisurely doing the backstroke, "What's got you so worked up, kid?"
Zula's tongue felt heavy with all those forlorn words that she wanted desperately to tell him. Her mouth opened; she swigged a mouthful of air, and then closed it again. What didn't he know that she knew herself? The answer came easily : nothing.

"Remember that game we used to play?" Zula asked suddenly, "When spring's blossoms opened and the flying ants would swirl around here like the snow in a blizzard?" Timon's face took on a pensive look as he paddled in a circle, following the silver school as they dashed beneath the surface.
"Oh, yes." Timon remembered, smiling, "When you were still learning how to swim. I always used to beat you and Pumbaa. Good times. "
Zula grinned mischievously, "Game on, pops."
Leaping into the water, Zula swam towards the meerkat at full speed with her sapphire eyes narrowed in competition. Timon gasped in horror and frantically dug his arms into the water, trying to escape the lioness. He swung around to get to the sand bank but it was too late. Zula grabbed his skinny leg with her teeth just as he had gotten half of his body onto shore. The lioness giddily leapt up over the pool and tossed her head upwards, launching the little meerkat so high into the air he was almost able to grab onto the vines.
"AAAHHH!" Timon screeched in his high-pitched voice, flailing his arms around as he free fell through the air. Zula plonked into the water just before her uncle did, waiting under the water for him. Timon smacked onto the surface with a groan before sinking into the pool. Swimming beneath him, Zula allowed the meerkat to ride on her back - once she felt his small talons hook into her pure white fur, she started kicking in the lake.
Timon hacked water from his lungs, "Yup, just as I remembered it."
She laughed, "I always enjoyed the belly-flop game."
A flourish of fresh water fish dazedly flopped to avoid them as she gently pulled Timon and herself out of the lake and sat panting by the banks. Timon wrapped his arms around her head and gently embraced her, patting the wet fur behind her ears.
"I really missed you, Zu-zu." Timon breathed.
Zula beamed, "I missed you guys, too. Although, I knew it was for the better - I'd say you would like the food, but I'd be lion."
Timon didn't say anything for a moment, as if he was preparing himself. Then he cleared his throat of the emotion forming the moist lump in his gullet.
"I'm just trying to be the father for you that I've always wanted to be." Timon said softly, his voice breaking with emotion,"The father that I never had." Zula felt the hot tears come to her eyes. She knew how hard it was for Timon to talk about his past and his father. Timon clamoured off of her back and went to stand in front of her, his eyes glassy and filled with pain. Zula gave him a compassionate nudge with her nose.
"Thank you for watching over me. I couldn't have asked for a better parent than you." Zula said softly.
Timon choked with emotion, "You're a good kid. I need you to promise that you'll always stay that way. That you'll always be my cub, OK?"
Zula puckered her brows in concern, "Is everything alright?"
Timon sighed, "Just promise. Please."
Zula smiled, "I promise, Timon."
Timon swallowed back his tears and guiltily studied his paws, "There's something that I've been meaning you tell you. For a very long time."
Grimacing, Zula crinkled her nose, "Don't tell me this is another one of those puberty talks! Haven't I had enough for one day?"
Timon laughed halfheartedly, his smile was weak and no more than a line etched into his face.
"Not this time, thankfully." Timon said, "I need to tell you a story. A story about when you came to the Pridelands. When you were a baby..."
Zula frowned and rose one of her eyebrows curiously, "What are you talking about? I've always lived here. Haven't I?"
"Don't interrupt." Timon snapped moodily, "Are you telling the story or am I?"
Zula decided to keep quiet. Timon only got this bipolar when mating season had started or when Pumbaa caught him picking his nose. It happened more often that Zula had liked to admit.  
"The savanna is a large and mysterious place, so many of these places are never ventured into even by Mufasa himself. It is said that they are dangerous, desolate and have very little food sources even for the humble insectivore." Timon explained, "Once they were home to other prides - ruled by separate kings and queens, who had their own unique properties and powers."
Zula's jaw quivered, "Other prides? You don't mean...this isn't about my - my..."
No matter how hard she tried, she couldn't dare to say the one word that had brought her so much pain in the past. Family. She had only wondered what her father had looked like; was his jaw strong and stern, did he have a dark mane or was it as golden as the setting sun? Was her mother's fur pure and light, were her eyes blue like Zula's? Was she sweet and warm and everything she had ever imagined on those cold winter days gazing at her reflection in the lake? Did she have brothers? Or sisters? Or a cow? Maybe not a cow, but the thought of having a family teased her brain relentlessly.
"You were from a different pride." Timon said, disrupting Zula's contemplation, "We were never able to work out which one then but you did not belong to Mufasa's pride originally."
Zula gasped incredulously, "What?"
"There are many prides on the Savanna. King Mufasa's is the largest and most dominant of them all." Timon breathed, "You were part of a similar pride."
Zula's heart started to pound in her chest.
"Other lions?" Zula exclaimed excitedly, "You mean there are others like me?Other lions with pelts as pure as the grains of sand baked in the sun? I'm not alone?"
Timon reached over and grabbed one of her toes with his sharp, pinprick claws. Zula calmed when she saw his sorrowful round eyes.
'There was once a legend," Timon carried on listlessly, "of an animal that could combine the entire savanna under one rule, by combining the ancient prides in which the circle of life could flourish - or be destroyed forever."
"I believe," Timon said lowly, "that's you."
Zula felt herself release a breath that she didn't know she was holding, "Where did I come from?"
"Your mother's name was Amare." Timon explained sullenly, "She came from a pride to the north of the pridelands, past the great stretch of outlands and into the mountainous planes and plateaus of Kilimanjaro. They were called the Kellan Clan."
Zula put her head down on her paws, feeling dizzy as black spots danced in her vision. Thoughts twittered through her brain like the sparrows she had tried so often to catch, mocking her from their perches in the canopy. This was just as confusing and vexing.
"Why didn't you tell me that I had a family?" Zula's voice rose, angry notes striking her vocal cords in a tune like a growl, "All this time I had relations somewhere out there and I never even knew! I have a mom!" Zula's voice broke, "I have a family out there."
Timon stuttered weakly, "I- I don't know how to tell you. She - she died, Zula."
Zula's anger faltered immediately. The sorrow present in her eyes stilled for a moment. Timon watched sadly as the white lioness paused, her black-spotted ears flickering back over her head. Scanning over the thick brambles with her keen eyes.
Timon sighed, "I didn't tell you because I knew how much pain this would cause you. I didn't know how you react. I thought you would hate me," Timon whispered, "You don't hate me, do you?"

The Last Roar ( Previously "The Whitest Lioness")Där berättelser lever. Upptäck nu