discuss.”

“No Scar, we have nothing.” Oh no, he’s doing that paw waving thing again. “Now let me go. I can go anytime I want.” What’s he doing? He’s leaping round to cut me off isn’t he? Why? What’s he up to? No, he can’t be, surely. No even Scar would, would he?

“No, no… I mean, well… of course. I’ll give you some more time to think about it. You run along now.”

Run along! He’s telling lionesses to run along like a naughty cubs now? I won’t even let Mufasa do that, even when he is king! And I have thought about it: It’s not happening… ever. At least he’s getting out of the way. Smiling at me too, the cocky slime ball!

~oOOo~

How could he do that? He can’t get away with it. I’ve got to tell someone, but who?  Fluffy? No, he’d go all noble on me and do something. I’m sorry Fluffy. Ahadi? No, he’d not believe his precious son could do that. Naada? Too young, and she’d blab the whole thing to everyone. Mother? I wish I could, but she’s too wrapped up in her own world to understand mine. Who? That… no… I hardly know her. Maybe… Sarafina. Maybe she’d listen. She doesn’t gossip, and she might understand. But then does anyone really need to know? As long as Scar doesn’t say anything, what does it do to put it out there, in to the open for all to hear? How does that help? There’s no harm done: no one needs to know.

How could he have thought…? What have I ever done that suggests I’ve got the slightest interest in him anyway? Of course nothing’s going to happen to Fluffy. What that Scar needs is… well, he’ll just have to ask another lioness, won’t he? How can anything happen anyway? I’d lose him… I’d die without him, just die. I know I would. He’s… he’s… no, nothing can ever happen. But… but we can’t be together. What if we can never be together? We could run away… somewhere where no one knows who he is. We could be together then. Just us. Why does he have to be Ahadi’s first born son? Why couldn’t Scar have been? Then… no, then Scar would be right, and I would be his queen! Then I’d have to run away with Fluffy so that we’d be together.

Nothing is right. Nothing fits. Nothing works anymore.  Everything leads the same way, but there’s the problem: Fluffy wouldn’t come with me. He’s going to be the king. He’s always known he’d be the king just as I’ve always known I’d be his queen. Oh, he’d never give it up: too duty bound. There’s no way round it: he’s going to be king. At least Scar might give up any ideas about me then: he’ll have to. He used to be such a poor lost cub. His mother’s gone, he barely knew her. She was crazy: got the hyenas to look out for him. Fluff’s dad ran her off. She’ll be dead by now.

“Sarabi?”

“Pardon?”

“Is anything wrong.”

She seems to care. Seems… maybe.

“No. Everything’s good.”

“I saw you pacing way out here. I hope everything’s alright.”

Of course it’s not alright! But I can’t tell you what is wrong. I wish you’d never have noticed. “Nothing's wrong.”

“OK…”

She’s walking off! “No, wait!” I’ve gone and done it now. “Please, Sarafina, I didn’t mean…” What am I going to say? She’s looking back, her eyes glinting in the moonlight: jewels sparkling in the darkest place.  “Please, I can’t say, but no, everything’s not alright.”

“Do you want to not talk about it again?”

“I can’t tell you.”

“Why not Sarabi?”

“Private. I can’t tell you.”

“Who can you tell? You’ve got to tell someone? You’ve been like this for days now. Pacing here, there and everywhere; off in a world of your own most of the time: your mind never on the stuff at paw.”

“No one.”

“Your mother?”

No! No her! Please, not her. “No.”

“Your sisters? Naanda?”

“No.” She’s getting impatient: shaking her head. Her tail’ll be twitching next.

“Aaah, what is it with you Sarabi?”

“You wouldn’t understand.”

“Understand what?”

Say it. Say it in simple terms even she will understand. “I told you. I can’t tell you: I can’t tell anyone.”

“You have to tell someone, why not me?”

“You’re the… the… you’re…”

“Yeah, what am I? You? What have you got? Everything.  You’re Sarabi. You’re going to be queen. You’re always going to be queen of the Pridelands.  You know what? You look like it. You always look like it. If you’d been rolling in mud down the waterhole you’d still look like it. Serene, calm, dignified: always Sarabi. Yeah, you may not be queen yet, but you’re gonna be, and don’t you know it.”

“No… of course I don’t. It’s not like that.”

“So what IS it like eh?”

Tell her nothing. Nothing. She’ll get nothing from me. That’s all there is.

“I bet it involves your mother!”

“No, no, of course not.”

“Yeah, yeah I bet it does.”

What is she up to? Following me around everywhere, poking her nose into my business, my private business.  So who does she think this is all about? Scar? No, you wouldn’t touch him with Rafiki’s stick. Ahadi? No, so it’s got to be… no, not Fluffy!  “This is about  Mufasa isn’t it? You hate him, don’t you?”

 “Me, hate him? He’s not bad, he’s OK.”

“OK?” So you think he’s OK do you? “Back off!”

“Mufasa? Look Sarabi, there’s no way I’m going anywhere near Mufasa. It doesn’t matter whether you’re betrothed to him or not. Believe me; it’s not going to happen?”

That almost-laugh in her voice gives it away:  she’s right. She’s not interested in Mufasa. Why?

“And what’s wrong with him then?”

“Nothing. Really nothing. Believe me, I like Mufasa, but I don’t ‘like’ him. You’ve got a clear run with him from me, I can tell you that for sure, take it home girl.  Sarabi, you were always going to be queen of the Pridelands, and that means being the king of the Pridelands’ mate, and Mufasa is the next king of the Pridelands.

“You’re jealous aren’t you?”

“No Sarabi. I really don’t want to be queen, and I don’t want Mufasa. Look Sarabi, this isn’t getting us anywhere. I’m going, but before I do, I just want to say you’re going to be queen, but you’re not queen yet. Right now, you’re not Sarabi, you’re just Sassi.”

How dare she talk to me like that? No damn it, you can’t just walk off after all that!

“Oh, and if you don’t want to talk to me Sassi; why don’t you tell it to Rafiki: he never gives away his secrets.”

Trees

 

Several kopjes set in the plains to the east and south overlooked Priderock. Being higher than their surroundings, and warmed by the sun, all were used by the lions, or more precisely the lionesses.  The largest lay below the tree-crowned ridge that dominated the eastern plain. Though not a true kopje – more a tight cluster of boulders and larger rocks with a clear space at its heart – Lionheart Rocks particularly caught the late afternoon sun and was a favourite of many.

One lioness though, couldn’t bring herself to use the name. It was still more than two hours before sunset. Sarabi dozed fitfully, getting up and moving with the weak shadows cast from the few trees and larger shrubs that grew between the stone.

Someone growled huskily, called out Sarabi’s name angrily then yawned loudly. Sarabi moved again.

 

Who really wants to sleep in this stifling heat? Ooo, shut up, I know, I know! Stop; just breathe. Breathe. Priderock stands very dark against the sun now: cold even... silent. I don’t live there. I live here, and over there, and way over there, but not on that rock. The king and his queen live there.  I am just a lioness… well, almost a lioness. My cubs could play there… my cubs? My cubs: how could that be? Mine and… Mufasa; isn’t that him down there? Walking this way, by himself? Better get out of sight.

“Sarabi, mind where you’re flicking your tail!”

“Oh sorry… can you see him?”

“Who?”

“Who else?” Isn’t it obvious?

“Oh no, not Mufasa again?”

Ah yes, it was obvious. “Is it?”

“I’m trying not to open my eyes.”

“Sarafina, it’s him, and he’s coming here. You’ve got to keep him away.”

“Why me?”

“Come on Sarafina, please.”

Who’s that? “If it isn’t him…” Ah, just like you to moan Naanda! “…I’m going to kill you myself Sarabi! Just shut up why don’t you? Some of us are trying to sleep.”

Better keep it down. “Please Sarafina. Please.”

“OK, OK. If he

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