Chapter Text
Pride Bridge was Colin's home. Well, it wasn't all of his home, obviously, because his dad, Edmund Bridgerton, was the King. But it was the main meeting point for Colin's family and their other friends.
There was a tall cliff carved out of rock, which loomed over their pridelands. Pride Bridge was the narrow platform that connected one part of the cliff face to another, with a steep drop either side.
When Colin was a very young cub, his big brother Anthony explained to him that the bridge had formed from some mysterious combination of wind and rain, which sloughed away parts of the rock. That frightened Colin, because if rock could wear away, then surely that meant the bridge might break, while they were all on it?
The next time they all met at the bridge, Colin approached it tentatively, testing the ground with light pressure from his front paws, advancing slowly.
Benedict, Anthony's slightly younger littermate, had laughed. “What's the matter with you, baby brother?"
“I don't want the bridge to wear away and break. I'm much heavier than rain and wind!”
Hearing that made his sisters Daphne and Francesca scared too, and the three of them cowered together at the edge. Eloise was always the most foolhardy of his litter, so she ignored the rest of them and bounded straight onto the bridge.
Benedict just laughed even harder. “Don't be silly, Colin, it's solid as a rock!”
Hearing all this, their Mum, Violet, padded over to reassure them. “Darling, the process of wearing away the rock takes a really long time, and the bridge is really, really old. As Benedict says,” she scowled at his brother, ”...it is solid as a rock. But a very permanent rock!”
“Is it as old as Lady Danbury?” asked Colin.
Lady Danbury was their father's most trusted advisor, and had worked for past kings who ruled over Pride Bridge. She was a baboon, who knew literally everything there was to know about everything. She walked with a cane and must be at least 35 years old, which was old, even for a baboon.
At Colin's perfectly innocent question, Daphne tittered.
Violet chuckled and gave the backs of Colin's ears an affectionate lick. “No, darling! It's much, much, much older than Lady Danbury. Pride Bridge will be here long after we have all gone!”
Colin didn't like to think of anybody being gone, so he decided to ask no more questions. He glanced across to Daphne, who nodded as if to say, I trust Mum, so along with Francesca they followed Eloise onto the bridge.
The three of them sat down with their paws arranged neatly, and Violet chuffed her approval. Eloise slouched, as ever, with her back legs akimbo. Violet's mouth curled disapprovingly, and she nudged Eloise gently with her snout, giving her a push to sit up straighter. Eloise scowled, but did as she was told.
Over time, Colin stopped feeling quite so scared to hang out on the bridge. But it never quite left the back of his mind: the knowledge that things that seem they should last forever, could sometimes change.
–
When Colin was still only little, about 7 months old, he was out practicing his pouncing with Daphne, Eloise and Francesca. His mum sent Lady Whistledown – another of the King's advisors, but nowhere near as old or as wise as Lady Danbury – to fetch them back to the bridge.
“Oh, pleeeease can we play for a little bit longer?” Colin pleaded.
“Absolutely not, your father wishes to address you all,” said the toucan.
“But if we pounce you, we'll get even better at it,” said Eloise.
Lady Whistledown sighed. “Darkness will fall soon, but regardless of that, you know none of us can refuse a request from the King!”
“Awww, okay” said Colin, dragging his paws back towards home.
Once everyone was assembled on the Bridge, King Edmund took centre stage, with Lady Danbury on one side of him, her hand on her cane, and Queen Violet on the other. Anthony and Benedict – the eldest Princes at two years old – lined up next to their mother, with Colin and his sisters next in line, as always.
Everyone chattered away until Edmund cleared his throat – he was a very powerful lion, so even his cough was commanding. “My pride, I bring tidings of new friends coming to join us!”
A ripple of excitement ran around everyone assembled – apart from Queen Violet and Lady Danbury. They always knew everything first.
Edmund continued. “That's right, there is another lioness joining us here. Her name is Lady Portia Featherington, and she has three cubs. Please welcome them and treat them as members of the family.”
Portia came strutting across the bridge and bowed before the King. She was a proud-looking lioness with a distinctive reddish tone to her fur. Around her neck she wore a rather garish arrangement of colourful feathers. After her came two cubs, yearlings at a guess, who jostled for priority on the narrow strip of rock. They were followed by a third, smaller, more timid cub, perhaps no more than four months old. They all had the same russet-toned fur as their mother.
The littlest cub looked shy and sad, and barely looked up as she passed her new family. She stared at the floor until she reached the King. Then she lifted her head, bowed, and lay on her tummy. Her ears lay back flat and to the side, the way his own did whenever he received a telling off from his parents or Lady Danbury. But this cub hadn't done anything naughty, as far as Colin could tell. He felt rather sorry for her, and instinctively wanted to tell her everything would be all right, now that she was a part of their pride.
Violet bumped her forehead against Portia's, which Colin knew meant the newcomers were fully welcomed into their home. “Why don't you introduce your girls, Portia?”
Portia turned towards Edmund, Anthony and Benedict, occupying prime position on the Bridge. “This is my eldest daughter, Prudence,” she said.
Prudence stood up, affecting the same haughty strut as her mother past Colin's brothers, her head held high. Then she sat with her paws arranged in a neat little square.
“And this is Philippa.” The second cub followed Prudence, parading past for all to inspect her, and then took her seat by her sister.
Portia nodded proudly. “Thank you for letting us join your pride.”
The littlest cub's ears flattened even further. Her blue eyes seemed to shine, as though she might be about to cry. Colin wanted to go to her, but then his Mum spoke. “And your youngest daughter?”
Portia looked like she'd forgotten the sweet little cub was even there. “Oh, and this is Penelope.”
Penelope scrabbled to her feet and went to follow her sisters, but Portia coughed and hissed, “Sit down!” She meant to say it quietly, it seemed to Colin, but he'd heard it very well. Then Portia scruffed Penelope roughly by the neck and returned her to where she started. He thought Portia seemed very mean. No wonder Penelope looked forlorn.
Violet spoke again. “Lovely! So Portia, Prudence, Philippa and Penelope, let me introduce you to our family. You've already met the King. These are our eldest sons, Anthony and Benedict. Then my second litter: this is Colin, Daphne, Eloise, and Francesca.” They all bowed to their guests as she said their names. “And we hope to be blessed with more cubs soon.”
The cub called Penelope watched them all take their bows in turn. Her ears pricked up slightly as each of them gave the Featheringtons a friendly smile. Colin's smile was bigger and friendlier than all of them, and he was smiling straight at Penelope. Not her mother. Not her sisters. Only Penelope.
Violet went on to introduce the rest of the Bridgerton pride. Along with Colin's parents and siblings, there were other lionesses with their cubs too. There was Lady Malhotra, Lady Kenworthy, and Lady Barragan, with their daughters, Banita, Emma, and Ella.
Then there were a couple of distant relatives who rounded out the numbers, like cousin Nigel and his elderly mother, Lady Berbrooke. Nigel was what they called a beta male. That meant unlike Edmund, Nigel wasn't lion king material, so he had no pride of his own. He looked scrawny next to Edmund, with a coat and mane that lacked shine. Colin couldn't put his paw on the reason why, but Nigel just wasn't majestic like the king and his family. It wasn't polite to talk about that in company, though. Colin knew that.
Once they had all taken their bows, Penelope turned her eyes back to Colin, with her ears cocked slightly to face him. His own ears responded in kind, and Penelope smiled a small smile, before looking away. It was then that Colin decided: he was going to make Penelope his best friend.
Over dinner that evening, as they feasted on the wildebeest carcass Portia had brought as an offering, Colin noticed Penelope sitting to one side, all alone. The lions and lionesses ate their share first, then the juveniles Anthony and Benedict, before finally the cubs were permitted to eat. Even then Penelope held back, letting everyone else eat without her.
Colin wasn't having that. He tore off a hunk of juicy gazelle thigh and sauntered across to Penelope. She looked a little startled as he dropped the meat on the ground in front of her. When she did nothing, he nudged it closer towards her with his muzzle. “For you.”
Penelope stooped to sniff cautiously at the meat. She looked nervously across to her mother, who was busy chatting with Lady Berbrooke, then back at Colin, who gave her a reassuring nod.
Penelope took the meat gently between her teeth, before throwing her head back and scoffing it down. She gave Colin a satisfied smile, then popped out her tongue to slurp away the last traces of blood from her snout.
“Thank you, Colin,” said Penelope, giving him a long, slow blink.
Colin was pleased she remembered his name from earlier. The trouble with having such a big family was that sometimes it was hard to remember who was who. His own Mum would often cycle through the names Anthony and Benedict before she got to Colin, and he'd been called by his sister's names on more than one occasion, too.
He'd already decided he liked the look of sweet Penelope, but this made him like her even more, so he gave her a long, slow blink back. “Come on, Penelope! Come and meet my sisters properly.”
Penelope's ears pricked up, and she trotted behind him to join Daphne, Eloise, and Francesca.
–
Growing up in the pridelands was so much fun. While Prudence and Philippa kept themselves to themselves, Penelope was a welcome addition to Colin and his sisters’ merry little band. Eloise quickly befriended her, and liked to tell her things – mostly how clever Eloise thought Eloise was, it felt to Colin. Daphne and Francesca also welcomed Penelope, encouraging her to join in with their games.
Colin liked to play with his sisters, but he really liked to play with Penelope.
They all played catch the mouse, honing their hunting skills together. Whenever he caught some small prey, Colin liked to offer it to Penelope as a snack. She remained hesitant at dinner times, hanging back nervously as the rest of the Pride ate their fill until someone – usually Colin – passed her a few morsels. But when he gave her food, away from the watchful eyes of her mother, she always guzzled it down with enthusiasm. Then she'd look up at Colin with those pretty blue-grey eyes – albeit showing signs of maturing to a golden brown – and thank him in a way that made his tummy flutter.
Colin enjoyed little more than the feeling of being needed, but he didn't always feel appreciated. Boy lions were supposed to be strong and tough, like Anthony, not gentle and kind like Colin. Benedict was kind too, but with such a cheeky twinkle in his eye that he was admired by all.
Once Colin joined Penelope on the sidelines of any meal, he rarely had any reason to leave her side. She was fun to be around. And it seemed she knew everything about everyone in the pride. They would sit together with Penelope whispering secrets to him.
“Apparently, your cousin Nigel was the runt of his litter. Normally he wouldn't have made it, but his mother doted on him and raised him to adulthood. His life is a miracle really. His brothers left to form their own prides, and he and his mother are simply inseparable.”
Colin was shocked by this. “How do you know such things?”
“I listen,” said Penelope, quite simply.
Colin looked at her with admiration. He loved to play with the other cubs, and he'd never stopped to listen to anything the adults were saying around him. He thought it was boring. Perhaps he should start paying more attention.
–
A year or so after the Featheringtons arrived, there was another announcement quite out of the blue. Perhaps if Colin had listened more, like Penelope, he would have been more prepared. Edmund announced that the two eldest brothers, Anthony and Benedict, were leaving. He had heard it mentioned once before, in passing, but it only ever sounded like a silly notion, far away in the future.
Colin wasn't especially close to his brothers. He looked up to them, in every sense, and longed to be included by them, but because they were so much more mature he was never a part of their gang. There was always a distance between them, and Colin was forever grouped with his sisters and the other young cubs.
Even so, life in the pride without Anthony and Benedict sounded a scary prospect. Violet tried to console him and explain why, but she only seemed to confuse him more. It was something to do with them being boys and needing to leave before they began fighting with their father. Edmund was stronger than anyone, so Colin couldn't imagine that could ever be a problem. But Violet pointed to the tufts of glorious mane growing on Anthony and Benedict, and said they would soon be too big and boisterous to take orders from the king.
Colin didn't like the implication of that. He knew he was a boy, and one day he would grow a mane too.
Colin put on a brave face as the family assembled to bid his brothers farewell. Then, after they had gone, he took himself to lie under his favourite tree and cried.
When he emerged later, feeling more composed, he ran into Nigel on the way back to the group.
“Hello, little Colin. I bet you're pleased to see the back of those two,” said Nigel with a sneer.
The tears threatened to return and his lower lip wobbled slightly. Nigel saw it before Colin could stop himself.
“What's the matter?”
Colin sighed. “I don't understand why they had to leave. I wanted them to stay!”
Nigel turned in a small circle and lay beside Colin. “The king feels threatened by them, I'm afraid. They must each find their own pride.”
“You're not a threat, are you?”
Nigel laughed, somewhat uncomfortably. “No, I am far too weak to be a threat to Edmund. That's why he's happy to keep me around.”
“And what will happen to me, when I g-g-grow up? Will Dad… s-send m-m-m-me away t-too?” Colin stifled a sob.
Nigel let out a long, deep breath. “You might get lucky. If you come of age at the right time, Edmund will be ready to step aside. You may be his heir. Or if not you, it might be Gregory instead.”
Violet had recently given birth to two new cubs, his brother Gregory and another sister, baby Hyacinth.
“You'll have to leave, unless you can prove you're not a threat.”
“I don't understand how I could ever threaten my family,” said Colin.
Nigel gave him a playful pat on the back with one large paw. “Well, let's hope you never need to!”
“Thanks, Nigel.”
Colin shrank a little that day. He didn't want to leave, or for his dad to find him a threat. He made sure to follow orders, and do as he was told. He also resolved to stick closer to cousin Nigel. With his brothers gone, he needed another role model.
–
One good thing to come from Anthony and Benedict leaving, was that the King had more time to spend with Colin. One bright afternoon, Edmund led him up to the bridge, to look out across the pridelands together.
“Do you understand, son, that everywhere the light touches is our kingdom? And I think you have what it takes to be the next king of Pride Bridge,” he said.
Colin felt a confusing mix of feelings – pride that his father believed in him, fear that he might be seen as a threat and sent away from everything he knew and loved. “But I’d much rather you remain King. I can support you and Mum, always.”
Edmund chuckled. “Thank you, dear boy.” He placed a massive paw over Colin’s small one. “But one day I will be gone, and one of my sons must take the throne. Sadly for your brothers, I was not yet ready to step down, so they must make their own way in the world. But by the time you are grown up, I will be getting old – no longer in my prime. You must be the one to lead the family, when I no longer can.”
Colin sniffed. “Can’t I be weak, like Nigel?”
Edmund roared a laugh. “Son, you are already by far the sturdiest of all my children, and one of the brightest. You will never be weak, not in body or mind. You will look down on me one day, once you have your mane.”
Colin tried to shrink himself to appear smaller. “I could never do that. I want you to live forever. And I don’t ever want to leave.”
Edmund looked down at him with kindness in his eyes. “I am sorry, son. There is no stopping the circle of life. I simply have to prepare you for it, as best I can. Come, let me show you your kingdom.”
–
One of Colin's favourite pastimes was play-fighting with Penelope and the other girls. Colin was much bigger than Penelope, so he was careful not to play too rough, lest he hurt her. Often they would gambol and tumble together, snarling and growling, until one or other of them was pinned to the ground.
He liked it when she won, it seemed to please her.
“Pinned ya!” she would say, standing proudly astride him with her front paws on his chest. They'd tumble some more, and it wouldn't be polite to hurt the girl – not when she had such pretty eyes – so he often let her win. “Pinned ya again!” she'd crow, before bouncing away happily.
Tired out after all that playtime, Colin and Penelope sat together in comfortable silence, watching the comings and going at the waterhole. Colin was giving himself a wash when Penelope turned to him in earnest.
“Oh! I forgot to tell you!”
Colin looked up from where he was casually scraping the dirt from between his claws with his teeth. Penelope always had the most fascinating news to share.
“Did you know poor Lady Malhotra had two cubs in her litter besides Banita, but they were killed by hyaenas?”
He certainly had not known that. Lady Malhotra and Banita had arrived out of the blue one day, much as the Featheringtons had. He'd never thought to wonder about their lives before. The revelation made him solemn. “How do you know?”
“I overheard Lady M telling my Mama. Your father saved Banita from the same fate and offered them both a refuge with your pride.”
Colin felt a swell of reverence for his Dad, and sadness for the Malhotras. “That's terrible,” he said. He was quiet for a moment, until a thought occurred to him. “What brought you and your family here? I mean… If you want to tell me…”
Penelope sighed. “My Uncle Jack tried to take over and make himself our king. He would have taken Mama as his queen, and probably killed my sisters and me. Dad fought off my uncle – killed him – but it was too late. He was already mortally wounded. So, my mother had no choice but to run and find another pride. Your father saved us.”
Colin listened intently as Penelope sniffed her way through her story, the tears welling in her eyes. He lifted a front paw and placed it gently on hers. “I'm so sorry.”
He felt conflicted by this new knowledge of Penelope. He was definitely sorry that her Dad had died defending her, and he hated seeing her so sad. But he wasn't sorry that it had brought her here, to live with them at Pride Bridge. It was confusing to feel like two different things could be true at the same time.
Later that night, as he laid down to sleep, his tail tucked under his chin, another thought occurred to Colin. King Edmund was certainly strong and tough, just like his older brothers. But he was also very gentle and kind. Perhaps Colin was more like his father than he'd realised.
–
Not long before his third birthday, Colin began to notice some changes. His appetite grew even bigger than before and his legs grew even longer. His little roar deepened, or occasionally failed him completely. And his chin itched.
Not only that, he was beginning to notice some of the juvenile lionesses in a way he hadn't before. They smelled… different. He still didn't like Penelope's sisters, because they were mean to his friend. But they too had changed lately, and they made him oddly curious.
He took to visiting the waterhole alone sometimes, to have a cooling soak away from the others. It helped him to get away from all these overwhelming new feelings. And then he spotted it, reflected in the pool… the undeniable signs of long, lustrous fur beginning to grow around his neck. He thought of Anthony and Benedict, sent away from home once their own manes had begun to take shape. And he was afraid.
Colin scratched at his neck, tried to pull at the fur to make it disappear. He didn't want his father to spot it. And then he realised what he must do. He must speak to Nigel.
He found Nigel taunting a very exasperated mouse. “How can I help you, dear boy?” His cousin looked up, pleased to see Colin.
“I think… I'm changing. Please, you have to help me! I don't want Dad to send me away. I don't want to be the stupid king!”
Nigel gave him a very serious, sympathetic look. “I see. Yes, you were right to come to me.” He took a close look at Colin's burgeoning mane. “Oh dear, it's worse than I feared. You are quite mature already. We must make haste!”
Colin lowered his head and hunkered down, making himself as small as possible, which was rather difficult these days. He was all limbs, and muscles he didn't know what to do with. He already towered over Nigel, and was catching up to Edmund in size. If this continued his father would be small in comparison.
“What can I do?”
Nigel gave it some thought. “You must go to the King, and show him you are his loyal subject. Take him an offering, to prove you are sincere.”
“An offering of what? The lionesses bring him all the meat he could ever need!”
“Beautiful things. Find the brightest, most beautifully coloured creatures you can. Especially snakes. He always loved a tasty snake when we were cubs, and the more colourful they are, the more delicious they taste. Catch them and take them to him, alive, so that he might enjoy them.”
Colin was a little dubious about that. “Bleurgh. We never normally eat those things. Snakes sound rather… slimy.”
“Well that's what makes it such a rare and special gift! They are slimy, yet satisfying! Trust me, Colin, I have known Edmund my whole life. He covets the most colourful and spectacular snakes. Those are the tastiest and rarest of treats.”
Colin nodded thoughtfully. “Yes! I will show him what a fine hunter I am, and that I am here to serve him many delicacies. And he will know I am not a threat.”
“Exactly, dear boy. Now, run along. But make sure you present him with this bounty when he is alone… otherwise the whole pride will be wanting the same treatment!”
Colin felt a rush of hope again. “Thanks, Nigel, I'm so glad I asked you!” He took off in the direction of one of the darkest, most abundant corners of the woodlands. Nigel waved him off, smiling his biggest, toothiest smile.
–
Colin was a proficient hunter. It was mostly the lionesses who did the hunting, but boys needed to know how to hunt too, and Colin was good. He practiced regularly with all the girl cubs, and lately he was even showing the younger cubs – Gregory and Hyacinth, and Penelope's little sister Felicity – how it was done. So it did not take much for him to track and catch the most delicious looking snake. The male boomslang was a beautiful emerald green, with a bright yellow pattern all along its belly.
He cradled it gently between his jaws so he wouldn't hurt it. He'd always hated snakes, so it required him to be very brave, just to let it squirm around as it hung from his mouth.
In recent months, the King had begun sleeping more, preferring solitude to the boisterous delights of watching his children at play. So Colin trotted across to where he knew his Dad liked to rest in the afternoons.
As expected, he found Edmund fast asleep and all alone. Colin approached calmly and sat in front of his father. Then he carefully placed the snake down, trapping its neck between the floor and one of his own stupidly big, rapidly growing paws. The snake squirmed and tried to get away, getting angrier and angrier at finding itself Colin's captive.
He was about to address Edmund, when the snake hissed so loud the King woke with a start. Colin smiled as his father's eyes widened on seeing his special gift.
Edmund growled, low and threatening, at the snake. “Colin, get back! What on earth are you doing?”
His father took a step forward, putting himself between Colin and the snake.
“I brought you a gift!” said Colin, still feeling proud to have found such a treasure.
Then Colin saw the snake raise its bright green head, open its mouth wide, and sink its fangs into Edmund's neck. For one long moment, he waited for his father to bat the snake idly away with a chuckle. He certainly did not expect the most powerful lion he'd ever known to let out an agonised roar.
Edmund snarled and shook his head violently. The snake flew through the air and slammed against the trunk of a tree, landing like a lifeless pile of rope on the ground.
Colin breathed a sigh of relief. “Sorry Dad, I thought …” But the relief was short-lived. Edmund didn't laugh, or shake off the pain as though it was nothing. Instead he groaned and lowered his head as if it had grown heavy. His breathing became laboured, and his eyes rolled lifelessly in their sockets.
Colin nudged gently at his father's face with his snout. “Dad, are you OK? What's the matter? What do you need?”
"Tell your mother…” said Edmund.
And then the King let out one final, long breath.
Colin froze, standing over his Dad's lifeless body. He began to groom Edmund's fur, desperately willing him awake. When that failed, Colin let out a long, mournful howl, curled up beside his father, and sobbed. His shoulders shook and his lip quivered, and Colin buried his face in his father's mane.
When he had no tears left to cry, Colin picked himself up and set out to find help. But then, his sadness turned to fear.
They will think I did this so I could become King, he thought.
So instead, Colin ran.