Rafiki stepped forward slowly and peered intrestedly at the cub nestled next to Sarabi’s chest. The tiny head turned and looked up at him, the young eyes open now and staring up at him with a wonder that delighted the mandrill. Sarabi smiled at him and nodded, and he picked the cub up gently, feeeling the child’s purring in his hands as he held him to his chest. He looked up as Mufasa and Sarabi for a moment, then turned and headed toward the end of the promontory. Reaching the end, he looked with awe at the assemble throng of life which spread before him. The sight took his breath away, and he held the cub out for all to see. “May the wind blow kindly on you,” he said softly, as the crowd below burst forth in jubilation. “May the sun shine brightly on you. May the gods take you to their heart.”
As if in answer, the clouds above parted, a brilliant shaft of light shining down directly upon him, dazzling his eyes. A golden nimbus surrounded the cub he held in his hands, and he stared in wonder and joy as the animals below knelt in reverence.
At last, he lowered the child and held him for a moment, then returned him to Sarabi’s loving arms. She smiled radiantly and nuzzled him. “Thank you, Rafiki.”
Mufasa nuzzled his son once more, then turned and descended the rocks carefully, his good mood fading. He had an unpleasant visit to make.
Some distance away, a small mouse lay flailing madly at the empty air in panic, her tail trapped in between two enormous claws. Taka stared across the gap between himself and the rodent, feeling as though he had been set aflame. Slowly, he turned the mouse this way and that, noting idly how the light glinted off the beady black eyes, now spread wide in panic.
“Life’s not fair, is it?” he queried the struggling mouse. “For you see, I...well, I shall never be king.” He uttered a grunting laugh, then looked at his captive in mock commiseration. “And you..will never live to see the light of another day.” Chuckling lowly, he spread his jaws, fangs gleaming in the morning light. “Adeiu.” He closed his eyes and extended his tongue expectantly, preparing to savor the delightful crunch the rodent would make before she was swallowed whole.
A voice which had begun to annoy him increasingly of late spoke from behind him. “Didn’t your mother tell you not to play with your food?” Zazu glared at Taka, who lowered the mouse, sighing with exasperation.
“What do you want?” he rumbled.
“I’m here to announce that King Mufasa’s on his way,” Zazu informed him gleefully. “So you’d better hava a good excuse for missing the ceremony.”
Taka’s claws flexed angrily, and he felt the mouse struggle free of his grip. The creature scurried acros the floor into a crack and was gone. “Oh, now look, Zazu, you’ve made me lose my lunch,” he growled angrily.
Lunch became the least of his worries after Mufasa’s arrival.
“Sarabi and I didn’t see you at the presentation of Simba,” he said. Please say you were sick, he thought. I don’t care if it’s true or not.
His heart sank as Taka looked at him in a expression of utter contempt. “That was today? Oh, I feel simply AWWWful.” Stretching, he drew his claws down the rock face with a screech that set Mufasa’s teeth on edge. “Must have slipped my mind.”
“Yes, well, as slippery as your mind is, as the King’s brother, you should have been FIRST in line!” Zazu glared at him. His bellegirence vanished quickly as he dove away, Taka’s fangs clicking together in the empty air where he had been.
“Well, I was first in line,” Taka shot back acerbically, “until the little hairball was born.” What little chance he had of making something of himself had vanished with the arrival of that cub.
Shocked at this outright insult, Mufasa felt his blood boil. “That hairball,” he rumbled dangerously, “is my son, and your future king.”
The discussion went downhill from there. Taka emerged from the cave seething, his tail lashing angrily as he swatted rocks out of his path with a powerful forepaw. His own brother had challenged him, by the gods! And in front of that idiot Zazu, no less. Taka groaned and collapsed in a clump of bushes, hiding his head under his forepaws.
Rafiki found him there a few minutes later. “Taka? What are you doing hiding in here?”
“What does it matter to anyone now what I do? They have their prince,” he said, biting the word off savagely. “They don't need me anymore, do they?”
Rafiki slipped in and tentatively laid an arm around Taka’s neck, relaxing when the lion made no move to disengage. “Ridiculous. Of course you are needed. Simba will need his mother and father more than anything. But there will come a time when he need someone else to talk to. His uncle.” Rafiki turned Taka’s head to face him. “You are special, Fru Fru. He will share things with you that he will never tell anyone else. You’ll be his best friend, and his most trusted confidant.”
“How can you be sure of this?” Taka looked at him.
“Because, I have my own nephew. Or have you forgotten?” He tapped Taka’s nose gently with a forefinger.
The lion blinked, chastened. He looked into Rafiki’s eyes for a moment, then smiled, a real smile, the first one Rafiki had seen from him since the death of Ahadi and Akase. “You’re right. By the gods, I’m going to see him right now!” He sat up and hugged the startled mandrill to his chest. “Thank you!”
Shortly after, Sarabi was surprised to see his brilliant green eyes blinking timidly at her in the gloom of the cave. “Sassie?”
“Yes?”
He figeted nervously. “Can I...I was wondering if I could...see him?”
“See him? You could have done much more than that, had you been here this morning,” Sarabi said icily. “Why bother now?”
His ears fell flat and his whiskers drooped as he stared at the ground. “I was wrong,” he said. “I’m sorry.” He turned to leave, his tail dragging in the dust.
“Wait!” Sarabi looked at him for a moment. “Come here.” She shifted her foreleg as he slowly padded over to where she lay, exposing the sleeping cub to his questioning gaze. Taka stared, captivated by the tiny form.
Simba lay quiescent in his mother’s care, the morning light shining in and gleaming on the little whiskers that poked from his muzzle. He twitched and moved slightly as he dreamed peaceful cub dreams, enjoing a peace Taka longed to return to. Taka bent his muzzle to the cub, filling his nose with scent of his nephew. Making the lightest of contacts, he nuzzled Simba with his nose. “Gods, Sassie, he is beautiful, isn’t he?”
Sarabi watched him wonderingly, seeing him as she had not seen him since cubhood, his eyes aglow with utter delight. “Yes, he is.” She licked the tiny form, eliciting a belated wriggling from her son. “He’s going to be a great king someday.”
A terrible pain wrenched at Taka, and he closed his eyes tightly until it passed. The light seeping in became cold and dull, and he sat up, looking down at the object between Sarabi’s paws. “Oh, yes. He looks so much like his father.” He glanced disintrestedly at the cub’s face, the words falling upon his own ears like so much dead grass. Whoever the cub looked like, it had nothing to do with him. His eyes flickered coldly as he peered at Simba. “You will live an intresting life.”
He turned lithely and paced out.
CHAPTER 44: UNWELCOME GUESTS
“...and it is with a heavy heart that I assume the throne.” Taka paused, biting his lip and looking at the lionesses gathered before him, a look of terrible grief etched on his face. But behind his eyes, something capered and danced madly with glee, he had DONE it, by the gods, he had finally done it, and no one was the wiser. Euphoria filled him, and he took a deep breath, as if fighting back tears.