Re: History in Motion, part 2/4
anonymous
April 1 2013, 00:32:14 UTC
Kovu walked with Simba as far as Rafiki's tree, stayed long enough to be checked for injuries, and then slunk off dejectedly. Simba tried to talk to him, to thank him, even to get him talking. Kovu was distantly aware that the older lion was pushing aside his own worries and fatigue to do it, but he couldn't listen, and much less speak. Pain was something you licked in private, if you had to. If it showed where other lions could see, they could bite you again at the weak point, and harder next time. Kovu didn't really expect Simba to do that. Danger still felt like danger, though. So he wanted, more than anything, to just be alone.
Simba watched Kovu walk back towards the long shadow cast by Pride Rock, sad that getting him to share his self-reproach was so difficult. He had begun to understand, over time, what Kovu's upbringing had lacked. His own father had been loving, affectionate, and contented. Scar was bitter, with little kindness for anyone. As a younger lion, he would have said that such a lion had no business siring cubs, and felt he spoke nothing but truth. Now ... Kovu would still figure prominently in such an argument. But he was also the reason Simba had reconsidered making it. It was true that the young lion had too many shadows behind his eyes, and more pain and suspicion in him than Simba would wish on anyone. The silence had dragged awkwardly the first time Simba had asked him to talk about something (other than Kiara) that made him happy. And - yes, until he'd gotten to know him, Kovu had reminded him far too much of Scar. It wasn't the darkness of his pelt, Simba insisted to himself, it was the wretched, calculating distance in his eyes.
Unlike Scar, though, Kovu had a good heart. He wasn't automatically their enemy. He just ... didn't really know how to be anyone's friend. Once Simba had realized that, he'd started teaching him, sharing his own memories of Mufasa. He'd meant to help, and it seemed to. He hadn't realized how much re-living his past would … how different it would look, how much less painful it was without the crushing certainty that he'd killed his father, and yet, how much of the cub he was lingered in all the crevices. Kovu was starved of memories, not even necessarily the ones Simba would consider good memories. Stories of times when Mufasa was stern with him in a measured way were met with an incredulity that the younger lion couldn't entirely hide. Which was how they'd found themselves walking through the elephant graveyard, while Simba pulled up a story he'd never told anyone, because it was too closely related to the worst memory of his life.
It was unthinkable, and strangely fitting, that in the one place that still reeked of decay and hyenas, they'd run into Scar. Simba put his head between his forepaws and tried to think as Rafiki dressed his wounds. There had been conversation between them, but he was lost in his own mind now, adrift in the grey-blue of indecision. Sometimes he was The King. But unlike Mufasa, sometimes he was just Simba, who honestly didn't know what a king was supposed to do. At least that made it easier to talk to Kovu.
Re: History in Motion, part 3/4
anonymous
April 1 2013, 00:36:03 UTC
"If you're not going to kill him, someone needs to take him meat." Kovu said later, eyes flat.
"That's already done. For now, it's you I'm worried about." Simba said.
Kovu took another disinterested bite of antelope. "I bit my own father." He said, as if that explained everything. Then he changed his mind and kept talking. "He's hurt. He's trapped. You're alive. And he's probably going to hate me forever for taking your side against him." Kovu put his head down to the carcass again and sort of sniffed it, blood sticking to his whiskers and nose before he said, very quietly, "I feel like an idiot for caring."
"You're not," Simba said. "I was a lot luckier about role models than you. But I grew up with Scar. I used to think he'd actually been looking out for me. Coming back and setting things right was the hardest thing I've ever done. And it ..." he swallowed, throat dry. "You don't stop feeling like someone is there for you, or like they should be, or like if they aren't maybe it's your fault, just because you learn otherwise. The hurt stays, and so does - I missed him. Ridiculous as that is, and few as his good points are, and **he killed my dad**, which should obliterate every other feeling I had. But it doesn't. You learn to live with that."
Kovu looked at him. "But ... how?"
Simba sat down heavily on his haunches. "By figuring out what you need to do to be okay and doing it. By protecting your loved ones. And then by accepting that, deep down, your feelings want connection and harmony between all things. If you find a way to have that, let me know. I've found - even a king sometimes wants what he can't have."
Kovu was silent for a moment. He splintered bone between his teeth with a dry crunch before he found the words he was looking for. "Have you ever wondered if that's what killed Mufasa? Not being ruthless, I mean. Letting Scar grow up, keeping him around ... thinking he was safe."
Simba sighed, looking a little older than he had a moment ago. "Many times. Knowing what happened later, I don't think killing him would have been so bad. Scar destroyed my family. But my father did what he could live with. Sometimes it's really hard to know when to give someone a chance."
"Yeah." Kovu peeled another long strip of meat off the carcass and ate, then nudged the bare bones with his muzzle in a way that reminded Simba very much of Scar. "He doesn't deserve it."
"I know." Simba said, and after a short pause, he added, "I won't think you're stupid, either way." He was surprised by the flash of unguarded gratitude in Kovu's eyes.
"Thanks," Kovu said, voice neutral. "A lot of the things I was taught were stupid aren't. You just have to measure whether they're worth getting hurt over."
Simba swished his tail over the grass, feeling it hit and bend thousands of tiny blades in quick succession. For all of a second, he needed the distraction. Then he said, "yes and no. Yes, because you have to take care of yourself, around all sorts. No, because ... an animal who deserves your confidence won't hurt you, even if you gave them the opportunity to."
Kovu's head sagged a little. "I used to think I'd never live up to him," he said, "never be as clever and poised. And then it turned out that I'm a better lion than he is. But I almost don't want to be. I want ..." Kovu's throat closed, and he angrily blinked back tears.
"You want your dad back," Simba finished for him. The statement hung in the still air.
Kovu looked away. "I can't be what he wants, without betraying Kiara. I chose her."
"I know," Simba said gently, aware of Kovu's unwavering loyalty to his daughter.
Re: History in Motion, part 4/4
anonymous
April 1 2013, 00:37:11 UTC
"You think I'd be wasting my time, if I tried to reach out to him?" Kovu asked.
"No. But I don't know if he can change," Simba said, then added, "and I don't want you to get hurt any more than you have to, or wear yourself out trying to make peace with a stubborn old schemer." He dug his great claws into the ground, preparing to say something that still sat wrong with him. "But you know your feelings. I can't tell you what you need to do."
Kovu started walking, wanting to pace, knowing that Simba would understand his inability to hold still. They left the stripped skeleton behind for the ants. "You say that like it's a bad thing," he commented.
Simba chuckled. "No, just a hard thing. I like you. And you don't owe him anything. If you want to spend time with him, though, that's your choice. I'll take a happy Kovu over an unhappy Kovu any day, but only you can tell how important this is to you."
Kovu padded along casually on three paws, using his left to clean the antelope blood off his muzzle, with the help of his tongue. By habit, his paw brushed a little higher when he'd finished, over the scar Zira had given him. It still didn't feel like it belonged there. "I have everything Scar wanted," Kovu said, "a mate, a kingdom, this pride ... it's almost like, if we could switch pelts, he wouldn't have to be Scar." For all values of 'being Scar' that were synonymous with 'resenting everything'.
Simba walked with him, knowing that Kovu hadn't forgotten about the fact that Scar had ruled the pride for a time, and it had been a disaster. He knew the longing in Kovu's voice belonged to a deeper wish - that Scar wasn't beyond help. His heart sank a little, not knowing which of the two lions was more stubborn, but knowing that Kovu was choosing a hard path. "Scar would need to be different on the inside, before anyone would trust him with what you have." He said.
Kovu paused to sharpen his claws against a spindly fever tree that shook as he savaged it. "It's not about that stuff," he said, "it's about ... Scar spends his whole life being angry, lonely, and tired. I just want that to change. And maybe it's too tough for me. Maybe it's not what he wants. I know it's better than a killer like him deserves. But he's still my father." His face twisted in a crooked smile, like half his muscles actually wanted to be frowning. "Even if I have to pull him off my in-laws."
Simba laughed.
Kovu's expression sort of crumpled and he covered it with both paws. "I can't believe he actually did that!"
Simba laughed harder.
Kovu peered at him from under his paws. "It's not funny," he complained, sounding like the teenager he was. "Once I got past thinking you were going to die, or kill him, or accuse me of something I didn't do, I was really embarr -hey!"
Simba had just pulled him up by his scruff, like a cub. "C'mere, you."
Simba watched Kovu walk back towards the long shadow cast by Pride Rock, sad that getting him to share his self-reproach was so difficult. He had begun to understand, over time, what Kovu's upbringing had lacked. His own father had been loving, affectionate, and contented. Scar was bitter, with little kindness for anyone. As a younger lion, he would have said that such a lion had no business siring cubs, and felt he spoke nothing but truth. Now ... Kovu would still figure prominently in such an argument. But he was also the reason Simba had reconsidered making it. It was true that the young lion had too many shadows behind his eyes, and more pain and suspicion in him than Simba would wish on anyone. The silence had dragged awkwardly the first time Simba had asked him to talk about something (other than Kiara) that made him happy. And - yes, until he'd gotten to know him, Kovu had reminded him far too much of Scar. It wasn't the darkness of his pelt, Simba insisted to himself, it was the wretched, calculating distance in his eyes.
Unlike Scar, though, Kovu had a good heart. He wasn't automatically their enemy. He just ... didn't really know how to be anyone's friend. Once Simba had realized that, he'd started teaching him, sharing his own memories of Mufasa. He'd meant to help, and it seemed to. He hadn't realized how much re-living his past would … how different it would look, how much less painful it was without the crushing certainty that he'd killed his father, and yet, how much of the cub he was lingered in all the crevices. Kovu was starved of memories, not even necessarily the ones Simba would consider good memories. Stories of times when Mufasa was stern with him in a measured way were met with an incredulity that the younger lion couldn't entirely hide. Which was how they'd found themselves walking through the elephant graveyard, while Simba pulled up a story he'd never told anyone, because it was too closely related to the worst memory of his life.
It was unthinkable, and strangely fitting, that in the one place that still reeked of decay and hyenas, they'd run into Scar. Simba put his head between his forepaws and tried to think as Rafiki dressed his wounds. There had been conversation between them, but he was lost in his own mind now, adrift in the grey-blue of indecision. Sometimes he was The King. But unlike Mufasa, sometimes he was just Simba, who honestly didn't know what a king was supposed to do. At least that made it easier to talk to Kovu.
Reply
"That's already done. For now, it's you I'm worried about." Simba said.
Kovu took another disinterested bite of antelope. "I bit my own father." He said, as if that explained everything. Then he changed his mind and kept talking. "He's hurt. He's trapped. You're alive. And he's probably going to hate me forever for taking your side against him." Kovu put his head down to the carcass again and sort of sniffed it, blood sticking to his whiskers and nose before he said, very quietly, "I feel like an idiot for caring."
"You're not," Simba said. "I was a lot luckier about role models than you. But I grew up with Scar. I used to think he'd actually been looking out for me. Coming back and setting things right was the hardest thing I've ever done. And it ..." he swallowed, throat dry. "You don't stop feeling like someone is there for you, or like they should be, or like if they aren't maybe it's your fault, just because you learn otherwise. The hurt stays, and so does - I missed him. Ridiculous as that is, and few as his good points are, and **he killed my dad**, which should obliterate every other feeling I had. But it doesn't. You learn to live with that."
Kovu looked at him. "But ... how?"
Simba sat down heavily on his haunches. "By figuring out what you need to do to be okay and doing it. By protecting your loved ones. And then by accepting that, deep down, your feelings want connection and harmony between all things. If you find a way to have that, let me know. I've found - even a king sometimes wants what he can't have."
Kovu was silent for a moment. He splintered bone between his teeth with a dry crunch before he found the words he was looking for. "Have you ever wondered if that's what killed Mufasa? Not being ruthless, I mean. Letting Scar grow up, keeping him around ... thinking he was safe."
Simba sighed, looking a little older than he had a moment ago. "Many times. Knowing what happened later, I don't think killing him would have been so bad. Scar destroyed my family. But my father did what he could live with. Sometimes it's really hard to know when to give someone a chance."
"Yeah." Kovu peeled another long strip of meat off the carcass and ate, then nudged the bare bones with his muzzle in a way that reminded Simba very much of Scar. "He doesn't deserve it."
"I know." Simba said, and after a short pause, he added, "I won't think you're stupid, either way." He was surprised by the flash of unguarded gratitude in Kovu's eyes.
"Thanks," Kovu said, voice neutral. "A lot of the things I was taught were stupid aren't. You just have to measure whether they're worth getting hurt over."
Simba swished his tail over the grass, feeling it hit and bend thousands of tiny blades in quick succession. For all of a second, he needed the distraction. Then he said, "yes and no. Yes, because you have to take care of yourself, around all sorts. No, because ... an animal who deserves your confidence won't hurt you, even if you gave them the opportunity to."
Kovu's head sagged a little. "I used to think I'd never live up to him," he said, "never be as clever and poised. And then it turned out that I'm a better lion than he is. But I almost don't want to be. I want ..." Kovu's throat closed, and he angrily blinked back tears.
"You want your dad back," Simba finished for him. The statement hung in the still air.
Kovu looked away. "I can't be what he wants, without betraying Kiara. I chose her."
"I know," Simba said gently, aware of Kovu's unwavering loyalty to his daughter.
Reply
"No. But I don't know if he can change," Simba said, then added, "and I don't want you to get hurt any more than you have to, or wear yourself out trying to make peace with a stubborn old schemer." He dug his great claws into the ground, preparing to say something that still sat wrong with him. "But you know your feelings. I can't tell you what you need to do."
Kovu started walking, wanting to pace, knowing that Simba would understand his inability to hold still. They left the stripped skeleton behind for the ants. "You say that like it's a bad thing," he commented.
Simba chuckled. "No, just a hard thing. I like you. And you don't owe him anything. If you want to spend time with him, though, that's your choice. I'll take a happy Kovu over an unhappy Kovu any day, but only you can tell how important this is to you."
Kovu padded along casually on three paws, using his left to clean the antelope blood off his muzzle, with the help of his tongue. By habit, his paw brushed a little higher when he'd finished, over the scar Zira had given him. It still didn't feel like it belonged there. "I have everything Scar wanted," Kovu said, "a mate, a kingdom, this pride ... it's almost like, if we could switch pelts, he wouldn't have to be Scar." For all values of 'being Scar' that were synonymous with 'resenting everything'.
Simba walked with him, knowing that Kovu hadn't forgotten about the fact that Scar had ruled the pride for a time, and it had been a disaster. He knew the longing in Kovu's voice belonged to a deeper wish - that Scar wasn't beyond help. His heart sank a little, not knowing which of the two lions was more stubborn, but knowing that Kovu was choosing a hard path. "Scar would need to be different on the inside, before anyone would trust him with what you have." He said.
Kovu paused to sharpen his claws against a spindly fever tree that shook as he savaged it. "It's not about that stuff," he said, "it's about ... Scar spends his whole life being angry, lonely, and tired. I just want that to change. And maybe it's too tough for me. Maybe it's not what he wants. I know it's better than a killer like him deserves. But he's still my father." His face twisted in a crooked smile, like half his muscles actually wanted to be frowning. "Even if I have to pull him off my in-laws."
Simba laughed.
Kovu's expression sort of crumpled and he covered it with both paws. "I can't believe he actually did that!"
Simba laughed harder.
Kovu peered at him from under his paws. "It's not funny," he complained, sounding like the teenager he was. "Once I got past thinking you were going to die, or kill him, or accuse me of something I didn't do, I was really embarr -hey!"
Simba had just pulled him up by his scruff, like a cub. "C'mere, you."
Reply
Leave a comment