Hero Takes a Fall

[Sequel to Rid of Me]

By Purrsia Kat

 

                Mumm-Ra’s smirk was the only thing visible beyond the shadow of his cowl. He emitted a gravelly chuckle to further demonstrate his satisfaction. “As much as I hate to admit it, patience really is a virtue, eh Tashe? But then, I always knew time was on my side.”

                Tashe swung her legs off the velvet lounge chair she graced and eyed the devil priest, mischief twinkling in her deep violet eyes. “Twenty years to bring that self-righteous ThunderCat Lord to his knees,” she agreed, “but well worth the wait. Best of all, when Seghen is victorious in the last trial, I’ll be able to descend from this ship and be free of the Time Warp Prison forever.”

                “Look,” Mumm-Ra ordered while beckoning her to his side with a bony finger. Taking a nearby basin of water, he swept his hand over the top of it; the spell he cast transformed the ordinary water to the magical, all-seeing waters like that of his cauldron. “He’s nearly completed the last trial as we speak -- a trial againt his ‘brother’, in fact. This ought to be entertaining.”

                He gave the woman a sidelong glance as she sidled up beside him, moving seductively and thrusting her breasts out as if for his benefit. She didn’t look a day older, her curves as voluptuous as they had been for centuries -- of course, agelessness was the upside of the Time Warp Prison.

Even if she were aged and it showed, he mused, he doubted it would squelch her flirtatiousness. Mumm-Ra had met a lot of whorish women is his eternal time, but Tashe had to be the queen of them all. He swore on the power of the Ancient Spirits that he never knew her to be ‘off duty’, so to speak. It was almost as if the mere presence of testosterone in the vicinity was cause for her to turn on the carnal charm -- even if that testosterone was coursing through the veins of a thousand year old rotting corpse. She was perhaps friskier than a harem full of harlots.

                “Tashe,” he said, still looking her over with amusement. “Not only am I too dead to care about your wanton ways, but if I want a nice pair of tits I can just change into the Netherwitch and fondle myself.”

                Tashe scowled, her full lower lip curling out into a pout. “I wasn’t -- how dare you --” Her jaw soon snapped shut, apparently in the realization that denying her true nature was pointless. She continued to sulk, but gazed into the basin nonetheless.

                “At least we can be thankful Lion-O wasn’t able to resist you,” he mused as he watched Seghen, the fruit of Tashe’s and Lion-O’s forbidden union, press on toward the ultimate confrontation for the throne of New Thundera. For that matter, he was thankful the Thunderians were such sticklers for the pointless traditions that would allow for such an easy usurping of the Lordship.

                Tashe let out a raspy laugh. “I didn’t even have to use the Doom Gaze on him. He wanted me that badly on his own.” She licked her ruby lips. “I dare say he enjoyed the encounter as much as I did, if not more so.”

                “Yes,” Mumm-Ra concurred, for once considering it might not be simply Tashe’s vanity driven ego talking. “Which makes this victory all the more delicious. Now let’s see if our hard work in raising his bastard offspring in the anti-Code of Thundera has paid off.”

                He had been patient, and though part of him wanted badly to show his hand in all of this, he practiced restraint. Not until Seghen was well established in power would Mumm-Ra darken the land with his mighty shadow once and for all.

                The pair looked on, anticipating the coming triumph.

                Tygra’s eyes shone with sympathy as he did his best to console his lifelong friend, Cheetara. To her credit, she was taking this whole ordeal much better than he’d thought she would -- a lesser woman would have broke down beyond being able to function long ago. Especially during this past week of trials, with Seghen turning out surprise wins trial after trial.

                Truthfully, Tygra was torn between Cheetara and Lion-O, acting in the past week as a liaison between the two. Not that it had accomplished much. He wouldn’t say what Lion-O had done was absolutely unforgivable, but healing would take some time. Surely Cheetara could find it in her heart to forgive Lion-O.

                “I wish you’d talk to him,” Tygra urged softly, eyeing Cheetara closely from where she stood, staring pensively out the window of the narrow corridor.

                He almost regretted saying such a thing as she turned her eyes, brimming with hurt and sorrow, upon him. “What is there to say?” The rhetorical question hung in the air between them for a long moment.

                Finally, Tygra broke the silence. “Avoiding him isn’t much of a solution…at some point, you have to discuss it.” Tygra pressed on when Cheetara’s sole response was to sigh and look to the horizon once more. “It was a youthful transgression, one which I can all but guarantee he never repeated.”

                Cheetara shook her head sadly. “It’s not so much *what* he did, but with whom he did it,” she wearily explained. “And now look what it’s done? Leonus…by Jaga, Leonus --” She buried her face in her hands as if unable to go on.

                Tygra closed the gap between them and gave her shoulders a reassuring squeeze. Having never had children of his own, he could only guess what Cheetara must be feeling. “Leonus is a fine young man. We’ve got every reason to think he can win this trial.”

                Tygra did his best to sound optimistic, though he and Panthro both were stunned by the way the arrogant Sehgan was breezing though the anointment trials. Panthro had even suggested to him earlier that Mumm-Ra must be lending a magical hand -- at least, it was the only way the die-hard, Code believing panther could reason it out. Tygra himself had a different, unsettling suspicion. It centered on the idea that Tashe knew what she was doing from the moment she seduced Lion-O, and that the might of genetics coupled with rearing Seghan for this very moment was what was making the impossible indeed possible. Of course, he spoke nothing of his worries to Cheetara.

                “Frankly,” Cheetara began, turning to face Tygra and sounding much stronger in tone, “Lion-O is the least of my worries. I have to pull myself together, for the people, for Leonus. There will be time for sorting things out with Lion-O when this is over.”

                Though the people were in a panic over the presence of Seghen and the idea that he may very well win the Lordship, Tygra couldn’t disagree more. He felt she and Lion-O should present a united front. Saying so, however, wouldn’t make much of a difference so he kept his opinion to himself. Instead, he embraced her briefly as if to reassure her. “It will be alright.”

                In but a few hours, things proved to be anything but alright. Leonus, feeling completely spent, was about to add humiliation to his litany of emotions. He staggered into the Lair’s great room. A hush fell over the anxious crowd that had gathered there in the hopes of crowning him officially as Lion-O’s successor. He paused in the doorway, knowing he had to be quite a sight with how battered and tattered he was. His eyes darted to his parents standing on the other side of the room, and his lip trembled as he beheld their expectant expression. “Father,” he gasped. “I have failed.”

                Cries and gasps rose from the crowd -- a loud curse, unmistakably from Panthro’s lips, rising above the din -- but Leonus was barely aware as he fell hard to his knees.

                “Leonus,” he heard a familiar feminine voice call. Looking up, he was met with the moistening eyes of his fiancé. Fresh pain stabbed at his heart. He couldn’t help but wonder if such a young, vibrant and beautiful cheetah like Kitawny would even marry him now. Not that he thought she was that shallow or callous, but who in their right mind would willingly avow themselves to such a failure - A man who could not prove himself worthy of his own birthright! They sat there lost in their sadness and bewilderment, the crowd’s frantic murmurings a mere backdrop.

                It was the confident arrival of Seghen that took them out of the moment. “Greetings my subjects.” His voice rang in the chamber, causing another hush to befall the crowd. “Let the crowning ceremony begin.”

                “Never!” Lion-O roared.

                “And why not?” challenged Seghen. “I’ve played by your rules and won the honor fairly.”

                Rage marred his father’s face. “Honor? You know nothing of honor!”

                Seghen arched a brow, looking quite doubtful. “Surely you don’t know me well enough, *father*, to judge me so. Go on. Ask the spies you’ve had watching every trial for the least little slip up and they’ll tell you I did not cheat.”

                Leonus’s eyes widened. Spies? He looked to Kitawny and saw her expression mirrored his. What’s worse was Lion-O’s faltering scowl, which conveyed to Leonus that what Seghen said was true. There really was no way out of this nightmare. If only he hadn’t lost the trial! It was all his fault, Leonus thought with agonizing realization. Even Kitawny’s gentle embrace couldn’t console him now.

                “You arrogant, cocky bastard --” Lion-O seethed.

                Leonus was shocked to hear Seghen chuckle in response. “And since when is being arrogant a crime? I’ve heard, in fact, that you were quite the cocky one in your youth. Like father like son, eh?” chided Seghen.

                Lion-O leapt forward and charged at Seghen.

                Leonus tried to rise to intervene, but it was no use -- his sore body wouldn’t cooperate. “Father, don’t,” he pleaded, futile as it was. Kitawny clung to him tighter and squeezed her eyes shut -- it was obvious she couldn’t bear to watch. Here, in front of Thundera’s elite, his father -- a man held up for years as a hero -- an icon that represented the pride of Thundera, a symbol of their people’s resilience and ability to triumph over adversity, and some would say the greatest ThunderCat Lord in Thunderian history -- fall in a torrent of anger, gracelessness, and shame. Leonus wanted to look away, but somehow, he just couldn’t. And neither could the stunned crowd.

                Seghen didn’t back down an inch and met Lion-O head on. A brief scuffle ensued, ending when Lion-O was shoved hard to the ground. As Lion-O lay catching his breath at Seghen’s feet, he bent and removed the claw shield and Sword of Omens from Lion-O’s side.

                “I am Lord now,” he boldly declared, holding up the Sword. “Fear not, my subjects. Those who cooperate will be treated well. Those who don’t,” he paused, glancing down at Lion-O’s prone form, “will find themselves in unpleasant surroundings. In fact, for attacking me, I order the former ThunderCat Lord to be locked in solitary confinement until further notice.”

                The Lair guards glanced at each other, then at Cheetara, who stood frozen in shock. Reluctantly, they stepped forward and helped Lion-O to his feet. Their eyes shone with sympathy and unspoken apologies to their former leader. Not that Leonus could blame them -- those guards had families and who knew how Seghen would make them suffer if they refused orders. Yes, he presented a front of being nothing more than arrogant, but Leonus sensed Seghen was capable of great evil.

                Before Lion-O was led off, Cheetara approached with tears streaming down her face. They stared at each other a long moment, and Leonus wondered what would be said, if anything. Finally, Lion-O simply said, “I’m sorry.”

                Leonus was taken aback when Cheetara’s response was to strike his father hard across the face. Tygra hastily stepped in and led Cheetara away, clearing the way for the guards to exit with Lion-O. It nearly broke Leonus’s very spirit to watch Lion-O leave with his head hung low. He growled softly, willing himself not to weep like a child. Panthro stormed out shortly thereafter, the turn of events too much for him to handle.

                Leonus was surprised when Seghen knelt and pulled him to his feet. “There, there, brother. You put up a good fight -- for sheltered nobility,” Seghen said in low tones so that only he and perhaps Kitawny could hear.

                Leonus’s scowl deepened as Sehgen eyed Kitawny in lustful manner. Leaning in close, Seghen whispered, “I have your title and soon I’ll have your woman.”

                With a mighty roar, Leonus used whatever strength he could muster to push away from his hated sibling. “Not until I take my last breath--”

                Seghen smirked. “Careful what you wish for, brother. Maybe you should share your father’s fate until you can handle your failure with more grace.” With a nod to nearby guards, they took their cue and apprehended Leonus.

                Leonus took a last look into Kitawny’s panicked eyes before leaving.

                Tashe followed Seghen later that evening, through the winding catacombs of the lower Lair. Finally, the reached the cell that held Lion-O. He didn’t look up when the cell door was opened, choosing to remain seated in the corner with his arms resting on his knees. Tashe licked her lips when she beheld Lion-O -- he may be older, but his musculature was still well defined. An all too familiar ache spread throughout her lower belly as she took in the sight of him.

                Seghen hung back by the door, as Tashe strode inside and boldly knelt beside Lion-O. He refused to look at her, but that didn’t deter her. She leaned in until her breath gently blew the mane around his ear. “You should be proud of our son,” she purred. Lion-O showed no reaction, even when she lightly traced her fingers up his forearm. “Of course, you can share in the glory. All the luxuries you knew before would be restored to you.” She paused, gripping his bulky bicep, her lips nearly brushing the flesh of his ear. “We could spend the days making love, and it would be every bit as pleasing as it was before.”

                In the blink of an eye, Lion-O turned and slammed Tashe against the wall of the cell, his hands wrapped around her throat. She struggled, slapping fruitlessly against his deadly grip. Even through the pain and increasing dizziness, she couldn’t help but feel even more turned on by Lion-O’s aggression.

                It seemed like an eternity to Tashe before Seghen finally restrained Lion-O. She gasped for breath, and actually began to laugh once some composure was regained. “You still want me,” she challenged. “Admit it.”

                “Go to hell,” Lion-O spat while Seghen secured the last shackle that would hold him to the wall of the cell.

                Tashe rose to her feet and dusted herself off. “You’ll come around. After all, you don’t have much of a choice. Your precious son? He was the hero that took my place in the time warp. And your dear wife, Cheetara -- there’s no hope she’ll ever forgive you now. You’ve nothing to gain playing the martyr.”

                Lion-O writhed against his restraints. “I’ll kill you,” he seethed. Tears rimmed his eyes, and Tashe couldn’t be sure if they were tears of sorrow or rage. It mattered little to her.

                Taking Seghen’s arm, she glanced back at the dethroned Lord. She blew him a kiss and her famous violet eyes sparkled. Tonight, a random, hard bodied soldier would likely warm her bed. But she was sure, deep down in her cold, black heart that Lion-O would again lie beside her.

The hero is exposed when
His crimes are brought to the light of day
Won't be feeling sorry, sorry, sorry
On the judgment day
Wasn't it me who said
There'd be a price to pay

And I won't feel bad at all
When the hero takes a fall

Emotion is a virtue
For you it is the one
Fatal flaw

And I won't feel bad at all
When the hero takes a fall

-- Hero Takes a Fall, Bangles

 

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