CHAPTER 1 - Sarabi's Night out

It is night in the savannah. The moon is full and bright in the night sky. Everything is tranquil. It's still a while before the rainy season. The landscape is still quite barren and the cold night air sweeps across the plain. It is peaceful, quiet, but also lifeless and lonely in the savannah.
The moon bathes the scenery in a cold, bluish-white light that casts difuse shadows on the earth.
This early in the year, the large herds have not yet gathered and a death-like silence still reigns at night. A silence that does not last everywhere, however.
In the cave under the Pride Rock, it is anything but quiet. Nor is it cold here. The air is warm, almost hot and stuffy. Thirty lions lie here and sleep. Some louder, some quieter, some deeper, some with their eyes only half closed, keeping watch so that no one can sneak in. Some of the big cats are active dreamers, others sleep like stones.
Only one lioness is wide awake. She is one of the oldest lionesses still in the pride. She has experienced a great deal and has had an eventful life. She has celebrated many hunting successes and given many lions their lives. She is a loving mother and a relentless fighter. She is Sarabi, she is Simba's mother. She was the first lioness in the pride, Mufasa's first and now she is the oldest in the pride, ranking only below Nala, who is now Simba's first.
The night does not let her sleep. Something is bothering her. She takes a deep breath and rises slowly and carefully. Just because she can't sleep doesn't mean the others have to be awake. She carefully makes her way out of the tangle of sleeping bodies. It is a dance that does not always follow a straight line. With the agility of a gazelle and the skill that her species is said to possess, she prances and leaps around, slowly approaching the exit of the cave. It is a dance she knows only too well. It is not the first time she has performed it. She hasn't slept so well since Mufasa's death. And so she regularly leaves the cave at night to think in solitude.
On her way out, she feels the touch of a paw on her flank. It is one of the guards looking at her sleepily.
"You're leaving again Sarabi?"
She whispers almost tonelessly. Sarabi nods and nuzzles her head against that of the lioness on guard.
"Yes, I need air and I need to think."
She replies just as quietly and tonelessly. The guard nods gently. This is not the first time Sarabi has left the caves at night. The others are used to it. At first they had questioned it, but over time they had come to accept that the old lioness sought solitude from time to time. They were aware that one day she might not return.

Sarabi leaves the cave quietly and under cover of darkness. However, she does not wander around as she used to. She realized early on that this would not bring her the peace she wanted. She circles Pride Rock and climbs up the back of it. It's not a particularly difficult climb, but she still feels it in her legs.
She climbs all the way to the top. Here, at the highest point of her rock, she feels she is closest to heaven. She takes a deep breath. The air in the savannah can get surprisingly cold at night. This early in the year, it is not uncommon for temperatures to be around freezing point at night. She enjoys the fresh air and the cold.
She sits down and lets her gaze glide over the landscape. The full moon is in the cloudless night sky and it is bright enough to see far across the plain. In the distance, she can see a few animals standing together. Probably wildebeest that have gathered together for the night to find shelter from the cold.
She takes another breath before looking up at the moon. A longing look creeps onto her face.
"Oh my love, it's been so long since I lost you..."
She begins her monologue, which she tends to do on nights like this. Of course, her former partner no longer answers her. But it gives her comfort to talk to him when she can't sleep at night and seeks peace by talking to her deceased partner.
"... I miss you so much. Your death came far too soon and far too unexpectedly. You shouldn't have gone this way. Simba wasn't ready to inherit you yet."
She speaks softly and listens to the wind that caresses her, bringing with it the scents of the vast savannah. She closes her eyes and enjoys the feeling of the wind running through her fur. It almost feels as if her lover is rubbing against her. Something that has always made her feel infinitely more comfortable. She sighs deeply.

"He's come along beautifully. Our son. A handsome lion and a good leader."
She continues, looking down at the entrance to the cave where the rest of the pride sleeps.
"It's been quite a while now since he returned from the exile your vile brother drove him into. He has claimed the throne for himself. Of course, Scar didn't hand over the pride to him without a fight. He and his hyenas fought fiercely. In the end, our son came out on top. He is as kind-hearted as you were. And like you, it was almost his undoing."
She looks at the spot on Pride Rock where Simba finally confronted Scar and his uncle fell to his doom.
"We finally drove the hyenas out of the promised land. It was a tough fight. There were casualties on both sides. Simba is a better diplomat than we thought he would be. He managed to reach an agreement with the hyenas. They have retreated back to the northern border. They won't be causing us any more worries any time soon."
She takes a deep breath and looks at the eastern border.
"But the losses on our side are still considerable. Some of the lionesses have left the pride. They don't accept Simba as their ruler. They don't want to submit to him. They prefer life in exile. Well, some of them are Scar's children, and it is the lionesses who have subordinated themselves to Scar without resistance. It's almost a third of the pride. They will threaten our eastern flank indefinitely. Simba says we shouldn't worry too much, but I don't have a good feeling about this."
She sniffs the air that carries the scent of prey. She looks again at the small herd resting far from Pride Rock.
"The sacred land we thought lost is slowly recovering. Since Scar and his henchmen left, the plains are sprouting green again. And the rivers are carrying water again. It's almost as if nature senses that the cycle of life is being respected here again. It will be years before everything is really as it once was. But the first herds have found their way back into our territory. The other huntresses have already returned with rich prey."
She lies down. She sighs deeply.
"Our son is a good king. Warm-hearted, loving, generous and beloved by all here. He is so much like you in so many ways. He is truly the rightful heir to your throne. He has learned much in exile. It has saved us over time until the prey has returned. He has also inherited your charm and your humor. He has already sired a lot of offspring."
She can feel herself blushing under her fur. She smiles bashfully.
"I've also had offspring again. It was a very nice experience. After successfully avoiding siring offspring with Scar, I actually enjoyed mating with Simba. He is so incredibly similar to you in so many ways. He is a good lover, I can understand the others enjoying having him around."
She looks up at the moon again, tears welling up in her eyes. She puts her ears back and searches for a sign on the cold and motionless disk in the sky.
"Simba is a good boy. A worthy king and a respectable successor to you my love, but he is not you. He will never be what you were to me. You were my soulmate. No one will ever be able to take your place."
She whispers softly. The wind carries her tears away and caresses her cheeks. She shudders at the intimate touch. It's almost as if the wind knows what she needs right now. She sighs and closes her eyes.
"When you died, my love died with you. Don't get me wrong. I love our son and I love the others. But it's not the same. The feeling is different. You were my only love, my true love. You were my soulmate. We were meant for each other. We should have grown old together or died together..."
She looks down at her paws and her legs and takes a deep breath. Many years and countless hunts and fights are in her muscles and bones. Every movement is a small battle in itself.

"... now I've grown old on my own. I am no longer the young athletic huntress you fell so madly in love with. My steps are no longer as elegant as they used to be and I'm no longer as fast. Now even you could catch up with me. Imagine that."
A slight but sad smile plays around her lips as she looks up at the moon again. She moves her paws carefully and hisses as the pain runs through her limbs.
"So slow that even a male lion can keep up with me. I can no longer hunt. I have to rely on the others to bring me my prey to the Pride Rock. They tolerate it. They always say it's the right thing to do. That they would also bring the food home for Simba and the cubs. But I'm just a burden for the pride..."
The wind picks up and blows in her face. She closes her eyes and enjoys the breeze, but finally shakes her head.
"... No. No, it's all right like this. It's the circle of life. You said it yourself. It's the credo we live by. I am old Mufasa. I have led a full and eventful life. And it is slowly coming to an end."
She opens her eyes and looks into the face of the moon. Joy, sadness, longing and tiredness play across her face as she takes another deep breath.
"I am lonely, Mufasa. I know I have Simba, Nala and the others. But that's not the same. I miss you so much. I can feel it... it won't be long now before I will join you on the plains of the eternal hunting grounds... Soon my beloved... soon..."
She whispers and puts her head down. The first glimmer of dawn appears on the horizon. She closes her eyes. Exhausted and tired.
She wants to rest a little longer before the others wake up and she can no longer rest. She has found peace for the night. Her body relaxes and she drifts off into a gentle sleep.

The light of the morning sun is already shining brightly on her body as the gentle breeze tenderly wakes her. The gentle caress of the wind through her fur makes her open her eyes softly. She blinks twice to get used to the light.
"Muf... no..."
Her beloved partner always woke her up so gently. Caressing her flank and gently bringing her back from her dreams. But her partner is so long gone... She looks around. She is still alone. No one has come up here looking for her yet. She sighs deeply and looks up at the sky. The individual clouds are sailing slowly and leisurely across the firmament and the morning sun is only slowly climbing higher. The air is still fresh and the dew is still on the blades of grass.
She shivers slightly and yawns. Then she hears the soft footsteps slowly coming up the steep ascent behind her. She knows the heavy steps of her son. The responsibility of being head of the pride weighs heavily on his shoulders and makes his steps heavier than those of the huntresses. He makes no effort to conceal his arrival. He knows very well that he can't sneak up on his mother. No one would ever manage that. Not while she is still alive.
He climbs the last few steps before standing up behind her. He can see from the play of her ears that she is awake and has already noticed him. In the light wind that always blows around the highest point of Pride Rock, he looks majestic and his stature matches his rank, but his nature has still not quite grown into his father's footsteps. He has spent too little time with his father, too little time learning.
And so he cannot maintain the façade of the unapproachable ruler for long, but quickly lowers his head again. He approaches cautiously.
"Mother?"
He asks, his concern clearly audible in his soft voice. Sarabi turns her head slowly and looks over at him. Her gentle smile reflects her love for her son. She blinks slowly.
"Good morning Simba..."
She whispers. Her tiredness is clearly visible and audible. Simba tilts his head slightly and steps next to her.
"I knew I would find you up here."
He says softly and lies down next to her. He cuddles up to her tenderly and leans his head against her shoulder.
"Have you spoken to Father again?"
He finally asks and Sarabi nods slightly. Her smile revels in times gone by.
"He's stubborn, again he hasn't answered..."
She says, slightly amused, and Simba laughs softly as he caresses her neck with his nose. He knows how much she likes it and is rewarded with a cautious purr. He nibbles a little on her neck before answering.
"Well, he's always been stubborn, why should he change now?"
They both laugh lightly but heartily. Simba catches himself first and looks into the distance.
"I am so infinitely grateful that I still have you at least, after father left so early. I miss him very much. Every day I ask myself whether I will be able to fill his pawprints."
His voice is quiet and his self-doubt weighs heavily on his soul. This time it is his mother who snuggles up to him. She nestles her head against his in a display of great affection.
"You're doing great. Let go of the idea of wanting to be like your father. You are so much like him in so many ways and yet you are completely different from him. Don't try to fill your father's pawprints, make your own."
Simba closes his eyes and enjoys the contact with his mother. The touch means so much more than the mere affection of a mother for her son. They lie quietly next to each other for a while, exchanging caresses.
Their gaze wanders over the promised land, their kingdom. Lost and recaptured from the hyenas. Devastated and resurrected from the ashes of the conflict. It is a truly beautiful piece of land. On the ground they can see the first huntresses moving out to control their territories and bring home prey. All capable and strong lionesses.
"The land is recovering fast. Our pride will continue and only thanks to your leadership Simba. You are a capable leader and you are not alone. Rely on your friends and on the pride. Your father would have wanted it."
Sarabi assures her son and leans further against him. Simba accepts the gentle leaning and snuggles up to his mother.
"I love you so much..."

He whispers softly and nibbles on her ear. Sarabi feels the blush fill her cheeks. She grins. She loves her son too, but it is a different love. A love that goes beyond the platonic love between family members. It also goes beyond the mere relationship between two members of the same species. She sees her deceased husband in her son. She projects her love for Mufasa onto Simba. She knows this is wrong, that it doesn't do Simba justice, but it feels so much better... and it helps to ease her guilty conscience towards her deceased partner.
It helps that Simba is a gentle yet authoritative partner. He is like his father in this respect, who had also always been tender with her, but had always given her everything she needed. In every respect, physically and mentally.
Just the thought of what Simba was capable of when you know how to push his buttons makes her breath quicken. She feels warm and that all too familiar cozy feeling spreads through her.

Simba smiles softly as he puts his nose to the wind and takes in the scents that the wind carries to him from all over the savannah. This is going to be a good day. The hunters will be bringing home plenty of prey, the weather will remain stable and there is no sign of the hyenas anywhere.
Slowly he turns his head towards his mother.
"I can smell it Sarabi..."
He lets the sentence hang in the air and Sarabi smiles broadly, showing him her deadly teeth...

Indeed, this is going to be a good day...