Work Text:
"Timon, there's another lion cub out there."
"No."
"But Timmoooon."
"Does he look sick, mangy, thin."
"He looks fine!"
"No."
Pumbaa shot a glance over toward the cub.
"Well," Timon lifted his shades. "how small is he?"
Pumbaa's head bobbed up.
"Bigger than Simba was when we found him!" Pumbaa announced.
Timon scowled lowering the shades then back lowering the reflecting mirror back at him.
"Hard no." Timon declined.
"But Timoooon." Pumbaa whined.
Timon lowered the mirrors tossing them aside.
"Is there vultures flying above the cub's head?" Timon asked.
Pumbaa turned around from the meerkat with the edges of his lip lowered and tilted his head wearing a pout as his gaze was fixated on the lion cub ahead.
"He is wandering the desert ..." Pumbaa said. "all lost."
"Depressed cub," Timon waved his hand.
"No, not depressed."
"Expert in how lions wear depression now?" Timon lifted an eyebrow folding his arms tilting his head,
Pumbaa looked back in the direction of the distant specter of the desert.
"Went through that once," Timon lowered his hand. "lost a kid to the realm of royal duties, nah, no thanks. Not again."
"That was a coincidence!" Pumbaa shot back turning back toward him.
Timon sighed lowering his head.
"We've been out here thirty years and you say after every kid we've picked up has some connection to some royal thing, and just this once, I'd like, to take a break from that."
"Teenagers are less likely to be royalty." Pumbaa argued.
Timon lifted his head up with a sigh.
"He was a pre-teen."
"All the little ones we've raised were kids--"
"This is still a kid."
"This one almost grown up."
"They're all kids at our age."
"You're just reluctant to take in another after the last one!"
"I told you the Persian lion cub was acting like a pampered princess and then turns out, yeah, she was, and she had to return home, to lead her people, and did I mention that she didn't have a happy ending like Simba!"
"She got her pride, her family, and her life back, and she forgave the one responsible for her mother's death--"
"She died a few months after dying that by the murderer!"
"That was a complete accident!"
"Orphaning a cub!"
"The king is ruling in her stead."
"A cub we lead directly to the pride lands after the fact as part of her last wish---No, not risking it!" Timon's hurt was all there, fresh, raw, distrust in the aged Lioness who had been notably unable to show her face to them dying a little inside. "This old heart can't take those odds!"
Pumbaa turned away thinking about the sulking lion cub and thought it over for a moment.
"He looks lost." Pumbaa said, softly. "And we could use about a protector right around now." Timon looked over toward the general direction of the lion cub. "slower, older, our hearing isn't all that great, and we're going to lose our sight one of these days, and one of these days we'll not going to be able to support ourselves."
"That baboon said we should be independent for a very long time to come." Timon recalled.
Pumbaa came to his side then sat down.
"But, Timoooooooon," Pumbaa whined. "what if it isn't."
Timon turned back toward the warthog then climbed on to the warthog and squinted on toward the distance observing hyenas surrounding the lion who was halted there. Head lowered with tail swinging from side to side. Ears crept back. Easily all the signs of fear.
"If this is a royal cub, I vote we bring them back home." Timon said, lifting his hand up and uncoiled his index finger "No arguments!"
Pumbaa nodded in agreement then smiled.
"Deal!" Pumbaa agreed.
Pumbaa padded his hoof against the grass lowering his head
"Chaaaaaaaaarrge!" Timon shrieked.
The graying aged warthog sped on through the crowd that were engaged in a pretty engaging fight.
Pumba knocked a hyena aside then Timon collided on to the neck of another hyena biting into the neck. Pumbaa charged on toward individual other hyenas knocking them back into the air one at a time and cries of pain echoed in the air. High pitched hurtful shrieks and cries of disgust and distress.
A couple of poking into the eyes of hyenas, a far more unique foe apart from buzzards, punching with old fists, being thrown aside and bitten. Some fur and hair fell into the air as unsettled dirt was cast into the air. Timon was small but in comparison to Pumbaa knocking them off their feet, he was utterly terrifying as the works of a creature from a horror film attacking at random making hearts pump at their fastest and heights. The roars of a lion in the chaos that regained it's foot was a dark and sinister sound that brought something ominous in the air.
The hyenas ran off.
"And stay away!" Timon shouted, dusting his hands off.
The cub stood on his feet, panting, head lowered, watching them shrink off into the distance.
"Royalty, eh?" Pumbaa asked.
The cub looked aside then shook his head.
"N-n-n-no." He lowered his head, stuttering, visibly heartbroken shaking his head. "I... I... I don't got a pride."
Timon mouthed the words 'no pride'.
"I was exiled by my best friend after he said he would make sure I didn't get to be exiled when I was old enough then he did it." The betrayal filling his voice as he sobbed lowering his head in all the fit of confusion and disdain. "No, not the leader of the pride, just my charming. old. buddy. Timon."
Timon stepped forward taking in the hurt cub who reminded him a lot of Simba. Unlike Kion or Kopa at that age, he hadn't gotten his mane. It's like looking at a lion cub that was transitioning between a cub and a young adult. A adult that hadn't quite gotten the mane. Timon could see a strong, powerful, willing protector, someone who could watch over them for the rest of their days.
His future was able to be determined by his decision alone. Simba had no choice going home, he had duty, a contrast to this cub, a cub who had the luxury of a problem free existence and be a beloved nobody. A cub that needed a bit more maturing before establishing his own pride.
He was kicked out.
Too young.
He needed a pride and maybe their fairly small pride could do relying on him welcoming him in.
"All I am is a outsider."
The cub looked aside closing his eyes so tightly.
"Ah," Timon began to smile, looking toward Pumbaa, then back, clasping his hands together, taking slow steps forward. "you're from the pride lands."
Pumbaa looked aside toward him.
"Big stinker of a place...."
The cub's head was lowered as Timon's facial features softened and a part of him melted beneath the saddened lion's expression, so familiar, memorable, down on his luck, as Pumbaa looked back and forth feeling the profound urge to sing an old song after thirty years.
"Hakuna Matata." Pumbaa remarked joining the cub's side beckoning him over to the jungle.
"Hakuna Matata!" Timon began to sing joining the side of the cub patting on the side. "What a wonderful phrase."
"Hakuna Matata!" Pumbaa continued where he left off. "It ain't no passing craze!"
"It means no worries for the rest of your days!" Timon carried the song on beckoning the cub on with him. "It's our problem free philosophy! Hakuna Matata!" His eyes shot over toward the warthog. "For the rest of your days!"
"It's our problem free, philosophy!" The partners sang. "Hakuna Matata!"
"What's a motto?"
"Nothing," Timon replied. "what's the matter with you?"
Timon's aged laughter cracked out with a hitch over Pumbaa's laughter watching the lion cub walk off.
"Kid, kid, these two words will solve all your problems!" Pumbaa declared.
It did with Simba and all the others they raised for a short time.
"That's right, take Pumbaa for example! Why, when he was a young warthhoooog!"
"When I was a young warthhoooog!"
The lion cub walked off wincing but was relentlessly pursued by the pair.
"His aroma had a certain appeal, he could clear the savanah after every meal."
"I'm a sensitive soul." His breath became hitched as his voice became high pitched having a little moment. "hurt that they never sat down wind. And oh, I was ashamed!"
The loud burst caused the lion cub to back off from the musical boom that the aged cub had heard.
"He was ashamed!"
"Thought of changing my name!"
"What's in a name?!"
"When I got down hearted."
"How did it feeeeeeel?"
The cub paused then turned around facing them and approached them curious about it.
"Every time that I farted!"
The lion cub's head bobbed up as the pair stared at each other for a moment then Timon crossed the distance putting a hand on the side of the warthog's side with a smile.
"You know," Timon started. "I have waited thirty years to hear you say that."
"I have waited thirty years to let it out!" Pumbaa exclaimed.
"But not in front of the kids." Then Timon continued singing as he walked along the side of the lion as did Pumbaa and the cub began to join in the song. "Hakuna Matata, what a wonderful phrase, it ain't no passing craze!"