[FIN] Fin. (Mittere & Family)

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Mittere was not a happy lioness. Of course, this statement was true most of the time. But it was especially true right now. The pink female was lying in her den, stretched out as if she was relaxed. This was, however, a lie. The truth was that she no longer had the strength to move easily. It wasn't so different a situation from when she'd first awakened in the Kitwana'antara, save that this time there would be no recovery. It was not the grip of injury which immobilized her, but plague.

And those damned kids - hers, Tarafa's, grandchildren, even great-grandchildren - would not leave her alone. Some were in the den with her, attempting to make her comfortable, feed her (as if she had the strength to eat even pre-chewed food), or just tell her whatever they felt they had to say before she died. Others were just outside, alert to the slightest change. It was enough to make her wish neither of them had ever bothered with offspring.

Of course, there were bonuses. If not for the children, she wouldn't have Kestven to promote to Master Warrior, ensuring the continuing safety of the pride. Hell, the King himself was in the group outside, which brought in all sorts of strange connotations. To think that one of her grandchildren was now the pride's Heiress...it made Mittere want to bark a laugh. Of course, she didn't have the strength to spare for anything anymore. Instead, she simply lay and glowered at everyone equally.




Jani was one of those in the den itself, patiently and quietly doing everything she could for her mother. She was determined not to cry or make one of the untoward shows of emotions Mittere so despised. Still, the green lioness felt it was her place. After all, she'd already lost her other mother, her sister, and her nephew to the plague. She, Amani, and Kestven were the only ones left from the early days of the family.

To see the mother she'd always known as powerful and unstoppable reduced to the same weakness as any diseased lion...it was hard. And yet, Jani refused to give up yet. She'd heard the stories of what Mittere had endured before. A tiny bit of the cub within refused to give up hope that the pink lioness might yet survive.


Outside the den, Mstari was lecturing her relatives. She was a Priestess, yes, but she did not serve Pestilence, oh no. Especially not after this...travesty! Yes, for the damned plague was now taking her other mother, as it had taken the lioness who'd borne her and her siblings into life!

"Rejoice, for our mother, our grandmother, and our great-grandmother is not being taken from us by Pestilence, but rather welcomed by the Goddess of Souls! Who can deny that Mittere's soul is among the strongest in this pride? She is surely deserving of the most wondrous afterlife!" the black and blue striped lioness proclaimed, pacing back and forth in front of the group.



Maji wasn't paying much attention to his aunt, choosing to split his attention between the den's entrance and those of his daughters who'd opted to accompany him. Neither he nor Na'al had wanted to force the girls into something they didn't want, but they did have the right to be present. If only to understand the family that they'd been born into - the nonroyal side, that is.


Itzal had agreed to come say goodbye to her great-grandmother. Mostly because none of the other young lions she knew (excepting her sisters) could say they had one. Still, there were a lot of lions here, and most she didn't know at all.

"Dad," she whispered, poking him with a paw. "Dad, who are all these people?" She didn't want to speak too loudly, for fear she'd draw the attention of the lioness who kept talking about souls.



Tarafa was accustomed to being outnumbered by fullblooded lions - it was a hazard of being a hybrid. However, the leotah was content to know that she and her siblings were not the only hybrids in this family. After all, the new Master Warrior was a cheeton. True, he was adopted - the only one here - but that didn't change the fact that he too possessed partial blood. The fact that Mittere had seen fit to elevate him into her place proved that they were equal to all others present.

It was somewhat strange to be here, at the deathbed of the family's matriarch. Tarafa knew, intellectually, that she'd been named after a lioness. Mittere's mate, in fact, which made her name a badge of honor. Still, she often felt she didn't truly understand this heritage. As the Priestess blathered on, the leotah edged closer to the den's entrance. Perhaps she'd learn more if she went inside.



True to her heritage, Sedare was seething as she paced just beyond the crowd in front of the den. The very fact that they were all here was...ridiculous! Her mother couldn't be dying. Sedare refused to believe it, even though she herself had observed the plague taking an ever-increasing toll on Mittere. The lioness' claws kept flicking in and out, as if she could shred the disease which defined their very pride. Her fury knew no bounds, but she was trying very hard not to take it out on any of her kin.  

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The leopon slipped inside the den, surprised to find there were so few within. Of course, her great-grandmother's blue eyes blazed in anger at her entrance, but that was, from what Tarafa knew, utterly typical. She felt she should be here, as a witness, and a Bard. Someone had to see, so that they could tell.

Tarafa watched Jani ministering to the pink lioness and met her great-aunt's gaze, a silent question in her eyes.

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Jani had glanced over at the sound of someone entering. It was...Tarafa. She'd been somewhat surprised at the names of Ua's daughters. Sure, it was fitting, and a good way to keep memories alive, but it was still unsettling to see this young leopon with the same name as Jani's own mother. Even stranger that this Tarafa had also chosen to be a Bard. One day Jani would ask her about that. But this wasn't the time or place.

Her young relative captured Jani's gaze and gave an inquiring glance. The green lioness shook her head. There was really nothing for either of them to do, aside from keeping their erstwile matriarch company she didn't really want or need.

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Mittere glared at the incoming leopon as a matter of course. She was pleased by the young one's name, as her mate deserved to not be forgotten. However, the trend set by Tarafa and her siblings was not promising. The pink lioness would be rather annoyed if any of the children decided to "honor" her in a similar fashion. The closest she'd tolerate was a name like Mitternacht's, and even that was pushing it, depending on the day.

She didn't think the young Tarafa would be the same sort of Bard as her predecessor. The leopon simply wasn't as much of a people person as Mittere's mate had been. But she wasn't about to ruin the kid's hopes and dreams by telling her that.. Instead, Mittere reflected on her beloved and how Tarafa might have viewed her namesake.

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Maji nuzzled his daughter. He didn't blame Itzal for being nervous - it was one thing to see the pride as a whole. It was another to see a good chunk of it and realize that they were all your family. The King shuddered to think what might happen should Sliabh die...but at least he was immune and so unlikely to be taken from them so early.

"They're our family, descended from Mittere and Tarafa," he explained quietly. "Most of us only share blood with Tarafa, which you can tell from our coloration. Our former Master Warrior only had six children - the ones whose pelts are pink, white, and black." He nodded at a pair of lionesses with said coloration on the edge of the gathering. The two looked like they were about to shred...something.

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"What about Mom's family?" the young lioness asked after long silent moments considering the group and the individuals within it. She wasn't entirely certain what he meant by Mittere and Tarafa's blood being different - she knew a Tarafa, had just seen her go inside the den. And she was a leopon, and most leopons couldn't even have kids. Nor was Tarafa old enough to have cubs.

Ugh, so confusing. But she didn't want to leave. Not yet.

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No one seemed to be paying any attention to her, which pissed Mstari off. She growled in frustration before resuming her speech.

"It is not Pestilence's place to choose when a lion dies - she merely plants the seeds of death within us. Rather, it is the Goddess of Souls who is calling our matriarch into the Haven at long last! She has lived a long and full life, and is one of the pride's most valued members. She will be blessed!" She would show them. She would show them that the Goddess of Souls was far better to worship than Pestilence!

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As Mstari preached on, Sedare fought to keep her claws sheathed - not an easy task. She continued pacing, until her path brought her near her own fullblooded sister.

"Why are we even here?" she hissed to Aella as the two drew near each other. "This isn't what Mother wants, and you know it!" If not for the fact that she was dying, Mittere would have come out and chased them all away long ago. Some had been here since dawn, others had trickled in as the day advanced and the shadows shrank and grew again.  

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"You want me to leave? Make me," Sedare sneered at her sister. Oh sure, she knew Aella's temper well - how could she not? But a fight...that sounded rather appealing just now. Not to mention it would be fitting. After all, how could they better honor their mother?

Of course, a little voice mentioned, she might be genuinely pissing off Aella. But the lioness brushed the voice aside. Her sister was smart enough to figure out what she was up to, even if Sedare said absolutely nothing save the words which would inflame her temper.

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"You hope I'm right?" Mstari turned on Ua, her nephew, the way the generations worked. In reality he was slightly older than she, but she absolutely refused to acknowledge that. "You're saying you doubt the blessing of the Goddess of Souls upon our great mother? Tell me, how do you think Mittere could have survived this long if she didn't have the strongest soul in the pride!" The striped lioness had left off her pacing and now was staring straight at Ua, daring him to contradict her.

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Maji resisted the urge to cover his face with a paw at the antics he could see around him. Everyone was on edge and, in true family fashion, they were starting to take it out on everyone around them. This, then, was Mittere's legacy.

No, the King was being unfair to her, even if it was just in his mind. He hadn't truly understood how much the former Master Warrior had done for the pride simply by coming and refusing to give in to a defeatist mentality until he'd become King and learned...so very much. Not just from the Spies who now reported to him as a matter of course, but from everyone. History showed that those who had the will left their mark and Mittere's will was...legendary.

"Your mother's family is royalty, of course," he answered Itzal distractedly. "Really, I'm not the best to ask about them...maybe a Bard?"

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The Princess huffed slightly as her father brushed her question off. Clearly he wasn't paying much attention to her! Not that she blamed him. It looked like there were at least two fights about to break out, even though fighting outside of combat practice was decried within the pride. Still, since two of those were Warriors, it should be a good fight, right?

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Tarafa offered her sister a smile in return. This was...uncomfortable, to say the least. Just...sitting around, waiting for their great-grandmother to die? The leopon edged around, slowly and quietly, so that she could sit next to Nyesha. As a greeting and a consolence, she nuzzled the other hybrid gently.

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Jani watched the two interact. Tarafa and Nyesha. Hopefully, neither would have inherited the lion's vulnerability to the plague. Even so, she couldn't help the morbid wonderment of which would predecease the other, and whether or not it would be the same order as their relatives.

The green lioness desperately wanted to stop dwelling on death, but it was impossible in this place, at this time. She turned her attention back to her parent.

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Mittere was watching everything, but no longer truly seeing. Instead, she saw a beautiful blue lioness in the place of the green. It was just a different color on the same markings, really. Noticing her gaze, Tarafa smiled.

"You really are impossible, you know that?" The Bard smiled. "Look at them. They all feel the need to be here, because of you. I may have brought some of them into this world and this family, but you and you alone are the core around which it revolves. And you won't even make this easy on them!"

"It's not my place to make their lives easier," the pink lioness retorted, but her blue eyes betrayed her lack of anger, sparkling in a way they hadn't for years.

"No, I suppose not. And hopefully your stubbornness will impart itself to some of them, at least, and lend them the strength to step up when you're gone." Mittere snorted in response.

"Oh fine, be that way. But you know I speak truth!" the blue lioness continued. "Anyway, I've been waiting for you, you know. Won't you please come with?"

The anger, the pride, and the years fell away from Mittere's face as she rose smoothly to her feet, smiling openly for the first time in far too long.

"I've been waiting for you to ask."  

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Even though Jani had been watching, she couldn't have said the exact moment when it happened. One moment she was watching her mother refuse to give in. The next...her mother was gone. There was a pink corpse lying in the cave, with nobody inside it. Clamping her jaw shut, Jani walked over to the body, nudging it with her nose, as if she was a cub again.

"Mother?" the word came out as a bare whisper. Nudge nudge. "Mommy?" A bit louder, closer to a normal tone of voice. Blue eyes the same color as the ones which would never shine again filled with water. Jani raised her nose to the roof of the den and howled her grief aloud.

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Tarafa felt the tears filling her eyes as well as she could only watch Jani. There was something incredibly sad not simply about Mittere's passing, but about watching a grown lioness far older than she act as if she were a mere cub. And yet, Tarafa understood, in part, how Jani must feel. She hadn't even known the pink lioness very well, and yet she too felt as if her heart had been wrenched from her body, crushed in someone's grip, and thrown to the ground.

Yet she couldn't find the will to even open her mouth, and the young Bard merely watched her great aunt mourn.

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Mstari considered Ua's words. Well, okay. He did have a point. It wasn't a point that furthered the Goddess of Souls, but it was a point. So how could she swing this to persuade him? Perhaps if she pointed out that it was the Goddess who granted her that stubbornness-

The lioness' thoughts churned to a stop as a cry rang out from the den, demanding her attention.

"So, the Goddess of Souls has reclaimed her," she said quietly into the echoing emptiness.

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Sedare began exchanging blows with her sister. There was anger in their combat, yes, but it was a good anger, she thought. Or at least, it was on Sedare's side. She was still the precisionist, taking her time to aim each and every blow, but they both knew it wasn't the other's fault. The one they wished to attack was the one they didn't dare. As children, it had been for fear of reprisal. Now, it was because they knew she could not fight back. Because she was dying.

Because she was already dead, Sedare realized as the cry rose up from the den. She immediately stopped her forward motion towards Aella, turning to face the den.

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Itzal's breath caught in her mouth as the sound rang out. She hadn't heard something like that often - the young Princess had little cause to be in the dens of those who were truly dying of plague. To hear it now...it tore at her heart. She began to understand why Aunt Eione was as much or more a Healer than a Duchess. How could anyone hear that noise and not want to help as much as they were able?

The lioness clung to her father, seeking the comfort that he'd always given her unstintingly as a cub.

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Maji closed his eyes in sorrow and mourning as his aunt's voice burst through the group. He remembered Kua's death, and how awful it had been, but even so, they'd all been younger then, more resilient. And Kua hadn't been as...defined as a person, as Mittere was. Had been, he corrected himself. To know his grandmother had finally lost a battle...the hard part was only just beginning.  

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Tarafa couldn't stay any longer, watching Jani howl with grief, and she slipped out as well, taking refuge near her father and sister. She couldn't speak, had no words, for all she was a Bard. She didn't want to leave her family though, not yet. The thought of being alone was almost more than she could stand at the moment. It helped that as she had walked past her kin, she noticed how few eyes were dry.

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Mstari thought about saying more, but really, she'd already said what she must and would be repeating herself now. Instead, the Priestess slipped away from the gathering to find a Secret Keeper or two. They were responsible for the bodies of the pride, and none had been seen around while the family gathered. Someone would have to tell them so that the proper rituals could be performed to the satisfaction of the Goddess.

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"So," Sedare murmured, "she's gone." She wasn't entirely certain what to think. Earlier she'd been scared and angry, but now the lioness just felt...empty. As if something vital had drained out of her with her mother's life. No more did she pace restlessly, rather the Warrior simply sat down, staring at the den, but failing to see it. Mittere was dead. An era had ended. What on earth would they do now?

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Itzal exctracted herself from her father, glancing over at the den entrance. "Dad I...I can't stay," she told her father, getting to her feet. There was something so horrible and sharp and undefined in the air and the Princess could no longer stand it. She had to get away. She knew she should be sad. Or worried. Or...something, but she just didn't know Mittere well enough.

(Okay, maybe the Master Warrior had been the scariest lion in the WHOLE PRIDE and that had something to do with it, but still!)

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Maji barely noticed as Itzal abandoned him. He made his way over to Ua and leaned against his brother's empty side, trying to wordlessly offer what comfort and strength he had. They had grown up and apart, but he knew that Mittere wasn't the only deceased lion in their minds today. Some days it seemed like their family was cursed by the plague even more so than most. But, seeing so many people who had gathered here, Maji realized that in truth their family was blessed above and beyond most. After all, there were so very many of them, and Mittere had died a great-grandmother, more than most could boast in this pride.

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Jani stayed in the den, alone with her mother's corpse. The lioness briefly toyed with the notion of joinging her parents and sister in death, but shuddered slightly at the thought of how Mittere would react. The very physical act brought a faint smile to her face as she considered how the former owner of this body still had the power to influence her decisions, even in death.

It made her seem more alive. Perhaps that was the point - remembering someone kept them alive. The loss was still raw and new, but Jani had survived other deaths before. She could survive this one too.  

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"Now?" Maji repeated his niece's question with a sad smile as he leaned around Ua to look the young Nyesha in the eye. Named for their own dead mother she was, as Tarafa had been named for their grandmother.

"Now we live," he told the cheeton. "We refuse to lie down and die, because she would rend us limb from limb for such cowardice, but we understand that not a one of us can be the person she was, and that's okay."