Chapter Nineteen: The Lion Who Listens

The mist was thinner that day, almost shy in the face of midday sun. Golden beams broke through the trees in long, dappled fingers, lighting up the frost-tinged forest with soft warmth. Birds chirped lazily overhead, and somewhere, the rustle of small creatures in the underbrush kept rhythm with the quiet breath of the trees.

Simba moved at the front of the group with quiet ease, his golden-red mane catching light with every step. Nala walked beside him, her elegant poise untouched by the uneven forest floor. Behind them came Kovu and Kiara, both alert and eager, though Kovu’s smug expression hinted he’d been looking forward to this more than anyone. “So,” Nala murmured as she stepped over a root, “this is where he hides?”       “Spends his time,” Kovu corrected with a grin. “If we’re lucky, you might hear him speak again. ”Kiara chuckled. “I still can’t believe he’s just… a little man.”                “A very large, quiet, frost-covered little man,” Kovu agreed. “But yes.”          Simba slowed, ears flicking forward. “Shhh,” he whispered. “Voices.” They crept forward, easing into a crouch behind a patch of ferns. In the clearing beyond, framed by sunlight and mist, sat Rafiki—perched comfortably on a low branch, his staff across his knees. And beneath the tree, massive and still as ever, was Jitu.                                          

The frost-touched lion sat like a statue, his thick, scarred form relaxed, but his icy blue eyes half-lidded and focused on the old mandrill speaking beside him.“Ah,” Rafiki said, his voice laced with laughter. “ Young Simba, roaring like wind, right into the path of stampeding wildebeests! Ha! The face he made—oh-ho!” Jitu didn’t move much, but a low rumble vibrated his chest. Not a growl. A laugh. Quiet. Real. Rafiki beamed.      “And then the time he tried to pounce Zazu! Missed by a feather! I told him, ‘Perhaps pounce your pride before your prey!’”                                                         Jitu chuckled again—faint, like the last drift of snow melting into water.Simba groaned behind the ferns. “Really, Rafiki?” But someone else had beat them there. Crouched in a cluster of tall grass on the other side of the clearing was Vitani—and her entire Lion Guard. They didn’t notice the royal group at first. Too focused on the wistful behemoth. Imara leaned in, claws digging into the ground. Tazama was perched in a tree, eyes sharp. 

Kasi and Shabaha crouched side by side, ears perked. Vitani herself was taut as a bowstring, every muscle locked on the massive lion beneath the tree.Kovu nudged Kiara and grinned. “Isn’t that…” “Yep,” Kiara whispered, giggling. “Spying.” Simba shook his head, amused. “Vitani, you’ve got to work on your stealth. ”Nala leaned closer. “They’re practically vibrating with anticipation.” Back in the clearing, Rafiki twirled his staff. “Did I ever tell you the time Simba tried to impress Nala with a leap off a rock—?”

“Ahem.” Simba stepped out of the ferns, voice low and clear.Rafiki spun, eyes alight with surprise and mischief. “Simba! What a lovely interruption!”  Jitu’s eyes shifted. No alarm, no aggression. Just curiosity—icy blue, steady as winter. Vitani whipped around like she’d been struck. “Y-Your Majesties?! What—? Kovu?!” Kiara stepped out, barely hiding her grin. “Nice hiding spot.”                                             “We weren’t hiding!” Shabaha said quickly. “We were... observing,” Tazama corrected with a twitching ear. “From the bushes,” Kovu added. “Very subtle.” Rafiki leapt down from his perch with a flourish. “Quite the crowd today. Jitu, my friend, you’ve garnered quite the attention!” Jitu didn’t move. His gaze swept over the new arrivals—calm, detached, but not unkind. A subtle tilt of his head, just enough to acknowledge them. Simba stepped forward, his voice rich but welcoming. “Jitu, I’m Simba, King of the Pride Lands. I’ve heard a lot about you.”

Nala smiled gently. “Especially from Vitani.” Vitani’s ears flattened. “That’s not—! I mean—” Rafiki chuckled. “He listens well, though says little. I think he enjoys the stories.”                                                  “I got him to speak once,” Kovu said, puffing his chest.Vitani groaned. “Will you please let that go?” Jitu didn’t answer, but his gaze moved between them—soft, alert, distant, amused. Simba nodded slowly. “You’ve become a mystery in these lands, Jitu. However, it seems you've shown in a good light.” Rafiki leaned on his staff, beaming. “Silent. Strong. And yet… young. A heart, still learning its rhythm.” Vitani cleared her throat. “So, now that everyone’s here, and we’ve all made introductions… maybe you could… say something?” Her voice caught. “Instead of just, sitting there?” Jitu looked at her. Really looked. And said nothing. Kovu leaned close and whispered, “Maybe he likes watching you squirm. ”Vitani’s glare could have ignited frost. “One of these days, Kovu…” Jitu’s head dipped slightly, and for the briefest flicker of a moment, the corner of his mouth twitched. A smile. So faint it might have been imagined. And then it was gone. But the forest held its breath, as if something had shifted—just enough to matter.