Heavy is the Head [Kion] ✔️

[6]

CHAPTER SIX
the enemy of my enemy

"We have to go after them!" Kion announced as soon as the Oulanders withdrew and Simba had settled the nervous crowds, sending them home or into the safety of the den. The young prince walked up to his father, determination in every step and worry in his eyes. "We have to find them!"

"Kion, you're getting ahead of yourself—"

"Dad, if we don't find them soon they could all die! I won't have that!"

"Kion!" Simba roared, silencing his son. The old king sighed. If possible, he looked even older and more weary than he had that morning, as though the encounter with Kovu was too much for him to deal with and was sending him hurtling towards the edge of— well, madness. "I will assemble a search and rescue party to go after the guard in the morning. For now—"

"That's not good enough!" Kion snapped back.

Simba narrowed his eyes. "Don't speak to me like that."

"Then do something! Stop. Cowering!"

Quite suddenly, Kion felt a force hit him across the face. He stumbled backwards, cheek stinging, and looked back at his father with wide eyes.

Simba was panting, looking mortified. He rested his paw back on the ground, chest heaving. "Get to bed," he growled. "We'll discuss this in the morning."

"B-but—"

"Now, Kion."

Without much choice, Kion turned and stormed into the den. He walked straight past Nala, who waited with baited breath. "Kion—?"

"Good night," Kion cut her off. He wandered to the back of the den, where he and Kiara used to play as young cubs before he was old enough to leave the safety of the pride. He settled there, faced away from the rest of his family as his father's heavy footsteps entered. Soon, all remaining chatter had died down and everyone was asleep.

Everyone except for Kion.

He stared at the ceiling, replaying possible scenarios in his head of his friends' untimely and horrible deaths. Kovu had a lot of power. He could rip their throats out, have them thrown in a pit to starve, have them fight one another to the death— so much could happen.

Although he hadn't been as close with his friends recently, he still cared about them all. Bunga, with whom he'd been friends since he could walk. Ono, who he had saved and become friends with a long time ago. Fuli, even with her temper. Besthe, with his calm and serene attitude. Even Makini, whose excited spirit sometimes drove him nuts.

No, Kion decided. He wouldn't just lie there while his friends —his family— were in trouble. It was up to him.

He stood up and quietly patted past his parents, past his grandmothers and past the other pride members, all of whom slept soundly, and exited into the chilly autumn air. With one last glance over his shoulder, Kion started his path away from home.

*

About an hour after merely walking without a particular direction, Kion stopped under a sapling with the conclusion that he had no idea what he was supposed to be doing. He guessed he should have started with Pride Rock; after all, the guard had been patrolling the perimeter when they vanished. Surely there would have been signs of struggle, or were Kovu's lionesses simply that good?

Not against his guard, Kion thought proudly. They would have at least put up a good fight.

The cracking of a twig silenced Kion's thoughts. He glanced to his right, where the sound came from, ears twitching in focus.