Chapter Forty: Nursing the Mountain

The midday sun poured golden warmth over Pride Rock, yet beneath its towering shade, frost lingered. Jitu lay stretched across the cool stone, his massive, frost-touched frame peaceful but subdued. His icy blue eyes remained half-lidded, the deep rise and fall of his chest steady, though punctuated now and then by a low, rumbling cough.

Day One.                                            Rafiki arrived first, shuffling toward the mountain of a lion with a bundle of herbs nestled in his staff. His ever-present grin faltered slightly as he looked up—way up—at Jitu’s massive form. “Oh-ho-ho…” Rafiki muttered, prodding one of Jitu’s enormous paws. “Why must you be so very… colossal?” Nearby, Kiara and Kovu peered from behind a rock, their eyes wide with amusement. “Did Rafiki complain?” Kovu whispered. “I don’t remember ever seeing Rafiki complain, about anything,” Kiara whispered back, barely containing her laughter. Jitu’s gaze shifted slowly to the old mandrill. He said nothing, but the calm watchfulness in his eyes was almost amused. “Yes, yes, stare at me all you want, you great frozen mountain,” Rafiki muttered, setting down his herbs. “Do you know how many leaves it takes to soothe something your size? I need half the forest!” Jitu didn’t react—until Rafiki clambered up his shoulder, balancing deftly in his frosted mane. “Hold still! I cannot reach your forehead if you keep breathing like a windstorm!” From a distance, Simba, Nala, and Vitani were doubled over in laughter. “So dramatic,” Vitani said, tears in her eyes. “He acts like Jitu’s a walking cliffside.”                                                “To be fair,” Simba chuckled, “he is.”

Day Two.                                            Rafiki returned the next morning, dragging what looked like an entire bush behind him. Kiara and Kovu helped, carrying flowers and extra bundles of leaves. “Oh, yes. More herbs. More leaves. Might as well bring a tree,” Rafiki grumbled. As he approached, Jitu emitted a sound—low, faint, but undeniably a chuckle. “Oh, you laugh now?” Rafiki snapped, pointing his staff at Jitu’s face. “Laugh at the old monkey breaking his back for you!” Kiara snorted. “Careful, Rafiki. You’ll vanish in his mane.”     “Let them laugh!” Rafiki called. “It is I who will keep this snow-cat alive! Even if I must climb him like a tree, that he evidently proves to be!”    

Day ThreeVitani and her Guard joined the effort. Arriving with fresh bundles of crushed mint and medicinal bark, working alongside Rafiki to apply pastes and tinctures.“Not too much!” Rafiki barked. “He’ll smell like a meadow!”                                          “Well, he’s three lions in one,” Vitani retorted. “Takes a meadow.”                 “I could lose a poultice in this fluff,” Rafiki muttered, struggling to rub the mixture into Jitu’s thick neck. Jitu remained silent, calm as ever, his gaze flicking to each of them as they worked. “Does he even fit in the forest?” Shabaha joked, patting his massive foreleg. Simba and Nala watched from a distance, stifling their laughter. “I think he’s enjoying the attention.” Simba whispered. 

Day Five.                                            Rafiki returned with a ladder. A ladder tied to his staff. “Ah, yes! The healer ascends!” he declared. “Only with the power of trees, can I reach this glacier’s ears!” Kovu collapsed laughing. “He’s turned this into a performance!”                                  “Hold still!” Rafiki demanded, balancing at ear-level. Jitu’s ear twitched, swaying the ladder off-balance. “Ah-ha! You wo-wo-wo-won't sha-a-a-ake me-e-e-e off!” Rafiki cackled, gripping his staff with both feet dangling. Nala had to hide her face in Simba’s mane, tears of laughter running down her cheeks. “H-How did it come to this?!” From below, Jitu remained quiet—but that faint, deep rumble came again. A quiet chuckle, barely audible, but real.

Day Seven.                                        Rafiki appeared with only a modest satchel of herbs.“Ah-ha!” he grinned. “See? Even a mountain can heal.” Jitu rested beneath the rock, calm and still. His breath was steady. The light in his eyes clear. Vitani stepped forward. “Feeling better, big guy?” Jitu didn’t answer. But his gaze lingered, gentle. Rafiki leaned on his staff, pride in every wrinkle of his face. “Even Jitu cannot escape the healing hands of Rafiki.”                                                    “Or your dramatic monologues,” Kovu teased, ducking a playful swat. The Lion Guard chuckled, gathering around. Jitu’s ear flicked—just once. But it was enough. Kiara knelt beside him, beaming. “We’re glad you’re okay, big guy.” Jitu didn’t speak. He didn’t need to. As the sun dipped low and the light softened, the frost-touched lion settled deeper into the warmth. His silent presence, always steady, now carried a gentle warmth with it. A warmth earned, not through words, but through care. Even the strongest mountain, after all, needs rest.