Ruler of Rage and Sorrow

Daraka: "Appointment, Obligation, Arrangement" [Swahili]
Pride Affiliation: Green Ridge Pride (Southlands)
Generation: -1
Voice Actor: David Morrissey (The Governor from The Walking Dead)
Relations: Son to Kauli, Ngware; Mate to Utamu; Semi-Mate to Dresa; Father to Tangua, Asikari

Daraka is born to the second Baron of the Southlands of his bloodline, and his birth is both a blessing and a bane. He is his father's first child and son, the heir to the Kingdom of the Setting Sun, and those loyal to his father and the Sun King sing thanks to the Sun God for such a blessing. However, there are those who follow the rebellious group that haunts the borders of the Southland and Sun Empire, angry and vengeful for the wrong that was committed to the old royal line. They wish to kill Daraka, to doom his father's line and force the Sun King to reexamine his decision to appoint a new family to hold the Southern Seat of Power just so the land is ruled by a male. They want their throne back and, although they are few, they are willing to do anything to get it back. Baron Kauli, Daraka's father, calls them “The bitches of the Night”, and it is hard for the young child to understand why his father is constantly pressing him to despise these strangers. Daraka has not a hateful bone in his body, so he takes to silence whenever his father goes off on a tirade about the rebels; better he say nothing than get involved in a debate. He wants to fix this 'rebel' problem, to make his father proud, but in all honesty he has no reason to really hate the lionesses save for that they want him dead, and once Daraka learns just why, he is inclined to understand where they are coming from.

The young heir grows up under the tutelage of his father, yet Kauli is often forced to deal with the violent rebellions that have come to characterize his reign. Kauli's adviser and brother, Daraka's uncle Bonga, makes time for the boy instead. Where as Kauli has become bitter from his dashed dreams of a smooth reign, Bonga sees greatness in the future, and knows that Daraka and his children will be the lions to either put down the rebellion or be defeated by it. He is a strict lion, but Daraka finds his uncle's ways wise and he grows into the disciplined lifestyle, developing into a calm, collected lion, although always a little too quiet for his father's tastes. His father wants a bold, aggressive heir who will gladly help him quash the rebels, and when Daraka's mane begins to grow along his back, Kauli is adamant about teaching his son how to fight. Whether he likes it or not, Daraka knows that fighting will become a significant part of his life, and he will need to be able to defend his throne not just in the Courts of the Sun King, as Bonga has trained him to be wise about, but also on the fields and plains of the southern wilds.

He learns, and he excels.

Fighting is in his blood, he finds, and it comes easily to him. His grandfather had been chosen to succeed the previous line as Baron due to his fighting prowess and cunning on the battlefield. He had saved a Sun King of old from many assassins, and his loyalty had earned him a seat of royalty. Daraka sees movement differently when a fight begins; his opponents slow in his mind, and he sees their weaknesses based upon their movements, their breathing, where they put their paws, how they unsheathe their claws, how their lips set to either bare teeth or snarl. Daraka beats each sparring partner like a fish cutting through water; he moves like a crashing wave, violent and graceful, and before his mane is fully grown down his belly, he is leading border patrols, fighting off rebels and threatening rogues alike.

Throughout all this time, Daraka's mother had been arranging his betrothal. Her own marriage to Daraka's father had caused much controversy; she had been chosen merely because of her white-born heritage and her paler albeit traditional Southland looks, where many had wanted Kauli to marry a child of the former Southland royal line. As such, Daraka is originally betrothed to one of the last remaining members of the former royal line, but with too many assassination attempts on Kauli's life, and too much evidence pointing towards the former royal line's allies, such an option was downright out for her little boy and the betrothal falls through, further enraging the loyalists of the old barons.

A lioness with a knack for playing politics, Daraka's mother saw how important it was to strengthen her son's future reign by not pandering to the Highlands, who already supported Kauli and Daraka, but rather the Lowlands, who could appreciate just how important it was to maintain regality and forge a new allegiance within the Sun Empire in light of the recent cessation of their royal line.

Enter Utamu. Pale, lovely Utamu is chosen. She is no princess, for the Lowland's only princess had been betrothed to the future Sun King Marathi. Rather, she is a cousin to the Lowland heir, but she is blue-blooded and that is really all that matters. Daraka insists that he collect his bride himself, for it should be he who takes care of her, not an emissary nor her own people. She is to be his, and he is to be hers. Uncle Bonga accompanies him, and the two lions set off to the Lowlands, guiding the two herds of zebra and three harems of quagga that have been used to purchase Utamu. Daraka and Bonga defend the herd from all predators and would-be thieves, ensuring each and every single equine is accounted for, safe and sound. The herds appreciates this, and each dominant male from each harem butts in throughout the journey, insisting the entire time on 'helping' Bonga advise Daraka on how to woo a beast of the female persuasion.

All of Daraka's life, the only girls he had ever encountered were his close cousins and his mother. Family hardly lends to romantic inspiration, and he finds himself terrified that his marriage will be a one-hump deal to produce an heir. It is so very important to Daraka that his Queen and he are a real family; he is convinced this would help unify his people. The love and support of a strong monarchical family is just what his kingdom needs. He wants to want Utamu, but most of all, he wants Utamu to want him.

Daraka's arrival with the herds is celebrated in the Lowlands; they had undergone a recent food shortage due to the Highland's takeover and an ill-timed draught which had resulted in many of their herds fleeing the land. Daraka is the guest of honour at a feast that celebrates his arrival and pending marriage, and throughout the celebrations he is clueless as to where his bride-to-be is. His attention is caught by a young lioness who is impressed by his shepherding skills...but not by his lineage. She is aloof, and coy, and Daraka is driven wild by her. He tries, but he stumbles over his words, fumbles his eloquence, and feels incredibly awkward in the presence of the lioness who keeps him company the entire night. He wants to practise the poetry and the swagger Bonga taught him, to be assertive as the quagga and zebra told him to be, but the lioness renders him flaccid. Under any other circumstances, he'd make a move, but he is betrothed and there to collect his bride, not offend his fair maiden and start a war.

Then Utamu is called to stand beside the Lowlands Governor. She is to sing the traditional prayer to the Sun God while the sun rises, thanking the deity for the renewal of the day, the circle of life continuing, and her own upcoming marriage.

Daraka has never felt stupid before, but he practically dies of embarrassment when the lioness he had been speaking with stands and gracefully makes her way through the crowd to stand beside her uncle. How could he have never thought to ask her name?! Stupid, FOOLISH stupid, SO STUPID, dumb, ARUGG!

Utamu, eyes closed against the pride, draws a long, slow breath through her nose. Then, she begins to sing.

Every worry, every regret, every thought of anger, fear, and hopelessness is washed away by the tide of Utamu's voice. Each note she sings threatens to bring tears to Daraka's eyes, and renders his knees weak. Her song is the sun she sings of, and her voice is the amazing dawn that breaks behind her, draping the fair lady in a cloak of fiery gold. Daraka can not hold himself upon his paws any longer, and stares with gaping maw at the lioness who sings with more passion than any roar he could ever hope to muster. He falls, and he falls hard; it is Bonga who wakes him from his trance after Utamu is finished her prayer and making her way back to Daraka.

Now. He insists, he must marry her now. The Lowlands pride is surprised at his haste, and Bonga cautions Daraka that this could cast a suspicious light upon the Green Ridge pride, but Daraka is resolute. His voice found at last, he quickly tells the royal family and his uncle that he wants Utamu to know the marriage ceremony of both the Lowlanders and the Southlanders so that her family has the happy memory of seeing their lady wed and Utamu is surrounded by loved ones rather than strange foreign lions; the more celebrating, the better, anyways. Both provinces could use some happiness these days.

Utamu is intrigued, and consents to marrying Daraka within the lands of her people, though she tells him right to his face that she will not mate with him until they are wed before his people. Daraka would not have it any other way. It gives him more time to hear her story, and learn how to steal her heart as she has stolen his.

Daraka leaves the Lowlands days later a celebrated hero, Utamu at his side, and Uncle Bonga trailing behind, too engrossed with his new mistress to interrupt.

The trek isn't particularly dangerous for, although Utamu is pale, with two male lions accompanying her, the quartet are not exactly harrowed. The only incident that harbours any sort of excitement is when the lions attempted to cross a river and disturbed the crocodiles hunting the water buffalo. A small stampede ensued, in which Daraka hurried the other lions up a nearby tree. Realizing too late there was no room for him, he insists his uncle take the last branch, and stands his ground at the base of the tree, glaring down any buffalo that dare charge too close. Sheer luck saves him from being clipped by a stray horn or hoof, but it is after that incident when Utamu finally asks Daraka to tell her all about himself. Dreading how boring he must be, Daraka gives Utamu an honest answer and tells his wife about his life. Utamu, however, is very interested to hear about his fighting capabilities, and intriued enough to hear more about the rebellion that is irritating Daraka's father. He tells her the history of his family, how his grandfather saved the Sun King, how he was awarded the Southlands in gratitude when the former line could produce no male heirs. Daraka tells her how his father hates the lionesses loyal to their exiled 'Baroness', how as a cub he was betrothed to the last of the old line, of how there had been assassination attempts on him and his father for as long as he could remember. Daraka reveals to his new bride that he sympathizes with those who were slighted and, although he does not appreciate the attempts at murdering him, he understands why they hate him so much.

The last night before Daraka's home lands are in view, Utamu voices her concerns; will attempts be made on her life? What of their children? She wants the rebellion gone and done with, and insists Daraka find a way to end it. He can see no way to finish the dirty business aside from a war, cleansing the rebels from the Southlands, but Utamu insists there must be another way. Some sort of diplomacy must be found; that is what her cousin Zibakh had told her when she had been taken to the Highlands. Daraka thinks on this, but confesses he sees no immediate peaceful solution. Perhaps a betrothal in the future when there are cubs, but violence would be the only thing the rebels would understand for the time being. All Daraka can offer Utamu is his sworn word that he will protect her and their children at all costs, and if his life must be forfeited to do so, he would gladly give his dying breath so that Utamu might yet draw one more. They sit in silence for hours, staring at the white moon above them, until Daraka asks Utamu to sing to him. Utamu teases her husband, but sings him a sweet little lullaby about the Lion in the Moon, something she had learned from a Seabreeze emissary once upon a time when she was little. Woken by the mellifluous noise, Uncle Bonga's mistress, then Bonga himself join in, and soon Daraka and Utamu's worries are forgotten in a night full of song, story and, when they are at last alone, love.

With the Southlands border in sight, a group of lionesses approach from the high grasses downwind of Daraka's small group. They hope to stop Daraka from going home and fathering heirs, and they are happy to kill his paid-for harlot too. The fight is vicious; they strike silently an come up from behind unnoticed. Daraka is outnumbered, and Bonga can not keep up with the younger fighters. When his beloved uncle falls, leaving Daraka alone to defend himself, his uncle's new lady-friend, and Utamu without any support, Daraka is spurred to feel the rage his father carried throughout his reign. Daraka is not alone, however; Utamu is beautiful as she is deadly, and she stands protectively above Bonga, ensuring no beast finish him while he is down.

The rebels scatter when they see how capable an enraged Daraka is. Daraka gathers his beloved uncle up, and the group limps home to disaster. Daraka's former betrothed gave birth to a daughter, and her daughter had been the catalyst to spur the rebells into forceful action. His father and guards had been ambushed, his mother killed, and the pride was in the middle of fighting for their life. Daraka leaps into the fray beside Utamu, and even Bonga and his new mate use their claws and teeth as best as the old couple can manage.

The battle ends, and Daraka and Utamu are standing firmly together in the settling dust. Bonga, Daraka's best friend and most revered uncle and adviser, whom Daraka held in the highest regard above all others, is dead, as is his mistress. Daraka sees before him his former betrothed, Pigakabari, the last of her blood and leader of the rebellion. Pigakabari glares at them through such rage that Damaka is shaken. She is snarling, but her voice is muffled for she holds in her maw her own daughter, Haramia, a babe so young her eyes had only just opened. Pigakabari sneers, placing her cub between her paws. She knows she has been defeated; her forces have been pushed back, scattered and beaten. Pigakabari is not out, however. The lioness is making a gambit. She knows Daraka can not kill her cub, even if she herself is executed for if Haramia is murdered, her people will rally and continue to wage war on the Southlands. If Daraka does not kill Haramia when he has the chance, his own people will judge him a weak coward and they will loose faith in their monarchy.

Daraka's moment of conflict is further complicated when Utamu steps between him and Pigakabari. Her eyes, narrowed into slits, dare Daraka to even try to harm the innocent child. Daraka steps forward aggressively, a growl rumbling deep within his chest, but he can't bring himself to raise a paw. He can not kill a child. Instead, he exiles Pigakabari and her daughter, and warns them fiercely that if they are seen by any lion of the Sun Empire, they will be killed on sight.

Daraka is furious, and for the next few days, he fights an internal battle within himself. He desperately wants to break his word, to forget the banishment of Pigakabari and her ilk, to go after them and slaughter them all. Every time he gets the will to go forth, Utamu is there, whispering words of honour and nobility, or to tell him his ailing father needs him immediately. He finds comfort only in her; she soothes his rage, singing to him, forcing him to set a date for their wedding, anything to take his mind off of murder. Her songs fail when Kauli passes from the infection that set into his heinous wounds, and Daraka, spurred by deep grief, takes off into the dessert. He is hellbent on finding Pigakabari. She takes up his every waking thought. When he eats, he feels her flesh between his clenched teeth. When he rakes his claws through his prey, he imagines it is her he is savaging. Utamu catches up with him, and Daraka sees she is miserable and it is because of him. Her face is streaked with tears of deeply broken trust and hurt; her betrayed expression is enough to bring hot, burning shame into Daraka's heart. He begs forgiveness, promising he hadn't broken his word, that he wanted to, oh so much, but he never did find Pigakabari, never did actually set his claws into her. He pleads with her not to hate him, swearing he will never be filled with such hate again, that he will find a way to end the violence...and all Utamu does is bid him to come home.

Baron Daraka marries Utamu at his coronation ceremony, and their wedding is widely celebrated throughout the empire. Daraka can not help but see Utamu isn't thrilled, and when the night approaches, he can not even dare approach her about mating. He sees that she put so much stock into his honour, and he broke the trust that had formed between them. He tries, again and again, every day to fix it, but when Utamu smiles at him, the smile never reaches her eyes and Daraka knows she no longer has faith in him any more. When Utamu tells him she is pregnant from their first mating, he hopes that this will change things, bring it back to where they were. He promises he will betroth the child, should it is a boy, to Haramia, but Utamu scoffs gently and pats his head like a mother scolding her apologetic child. The Olde Line will never again have anything to do with the New Line.

Utamu's pregnancy does not go well. Her morning sickness starts almost immediately and does not end when it should. She bleeds often, and everyday her midwives voice their fears that she will miscarry. Daraka remains stoic, putting on a brave face for his people and the court, but inside he is screaming. It was not supposed to be like this. If it hadn't been for the damned rebels, Utamu would love him, and she wouldn't be so pained by her unborn litter. Bonga would be alive, his father and mother would still be alive, the kingdom would be at peace...

The rage comes again. Daraka secludes himself in his chambers, and furiously rampages for days. He smashes his paws upon the stone walls, bashes his face until his nose breaks, and he blinds himself with all the blood that weeps down from his deeply gashed brow. He claws and bites at himself, roaring and shrieking and cursing so loudly that the servants fear to go in and see if he is being assassinated. Baron Daraka roars himself hoarse, and when his claws have been wheedled down to nubs on his paws, he breaks down, sobbing and flailing like a cub having a vile tantrum. A gentle note fills the air, then another, and another, and Daraka feels the warmth of Utamu beside him, her paws stroking his cheeks, his brow, licking clean his self-inflicted wounds...singing to him all the while about the Lion in the Moon. The Baron cries and moans, burying his face into his mate and wheezing out pathetic apologies while his wife grooms him, licking the blood from his mane and the tears from his face. She hushes him, and although her belly is growing heavy with her baby, soothes Daraka's grieving soul by finally mating with him for the first time since their wedding before the Green Ridge Pride.

With his pent up anguished finally released, Baron Daraka resumes his duties while waiting for the day of his childrens' birth to come. He charges two lions of his personal guard with specifically patrolling the borders for any sign of Pigakabari and her infant daughter, for although Daraka will not lay a paw upon the two lioness himself, he sees no issue with giving his blessing for others to rip them to shreds. Utamu has made friends with the mate of one of the Baron's guards, and to reward the lioness for not protesting but rather rejoicing with pride and praises, Daraka consults with Utamu and graces the pretty lioness, named Dresa, with the position of Nursemaid to his future cubs. This delights both Dresa and Utamu, who have grown close during Utamu's difficult pregnancy as Dresa is due to give birth shortly before Utamu.

When Dresa does gives birth, she has a beautiful golden son with green eyes; the Southlanders, who have not had a pureblooded lion born into the Green Ridge Pride with green eyes since the Old Line, take it as a sign that things are truly shaping up. Daraka wants to betroth the boy to his cub should Utamu bare a daughter, and Utamu and Dresa couldn't be happier with the arrangement. It is thus with great sorrow that Dresa and her mate take their boy to visit family amongst the commoners of the pride, only to be attacked by a spy. The spy murders Dresa's infant son, bashing his soft little skull to skittles upon a jagged rock, and Dresa's enraged mate chases after the slippery informer only to be lead to his doom in the midst of an ambush waiting for him in the desert. The rebels somehow had found out about the betrothal and had cut out the perceived tumour before it had time to fester.

Days later, before the kingdom can finish grieving, Utamu goes into labour. Her cries are heard throughout the land, and although Daraka is there with her the entire time, letting her break his fingers with an iron grip, he can bring her no relief. The birthing is not smooth, and many midwives cluck their tongues sympathetically, telling Utamu and Daraka not to get their hopes up, that there will be more children in the future, that this one will be stillborn...

Utamu, however, does not give up. She knows the baby will live, for she has felt it kicking and squirming anxiously. The lone cub can not wait to come into the world, and when the boy is at last born, he is massive. Already the size of a cub that has had a generous amount of time to grow, Daraka's heir is dubbed Tangua by a weak Utamu, who passes out mere moments after cradling her child for the first time. Daraka sees the significance behind the boy's name and prays to the Sun God that Tangua will be the one who did what neither Daraka, nor Kauli, nor the first Baron of the New Line could do, and end the Rebellion of the Olde.

Utamu does not stop bleeding. Her pale fur soon becomes a dirty brown that soaks into her legs, tail, and belly, and she can barely stay awake. The light fades from her eyes, and Daraka can not bare to admit what is coming next. Both Baron and Baroness know Utamu will not survive throughout the night, and while holding her innocent not-so-little Tangua, Utamu makes Daraka promise to raise the boy to be wise, to be strong, and above all else, to be honourable. Utamu makes Daraka swear that their son will grow to be fair and good to not only his own people, but to show the same treatment to the rebels. Daraka promises through clenched teeth and tears, swearing their child will be better than him in every regard. As Tangua squirms and whines, Utamu sings her last song, and it takes every fibre of strength for the Baron not to cry as the words for The Lion in the Moon quietly drift away.

Utamu passes that very evening, and Daraka refuses to leave her side even as Tangua's wails for mother's milk disturb the servants. Dresa manages to slink in and steal the babe from his dead mother's arms and feed the child with her own unused milk whilst an oblivious Baron Daraka lays with his mate in a grief-struck state of catatonic shock. This single instance of mercy on Dresa's part saves Tangua, and so Daraka keeps the nursemaid close to him at all times. He gives Dresa a place in the Royal Den, goes to her for advice rather than seek out his majordomo and advisers, and when Tangua is old enough to travel and be presented to the Sun Emperor Marathi, Daraka insists that Dresa come with him to help keep an eye on the boy while Daraka tries to arrange a betrothal with Marathi's daughter Papayuka.

The betrothal does not come to pass, but Daraka continues to have high hopes for Tangua. The boy grows even larger, and although he takes after Daraka's looks more so than his mother's, there are small things about his son that break Baron Daraka's heart; the boy, for instance, has his mother's softer disposition. Every now and then, he catches the boy humming an all-too-familiar lullaby with a voice as sweet as honey. Tangua, although stern and disciplined in a way much like Bonga had been, doesn't use his size often, instead shaping up to be more of a peace-keeper than a peace-maker, something which worries Daraka. He trains the boy to fight as best he can, but Tangua seems more interested in learning all he can about history, geography, politics, and the theory behind war. Still, Daraka has faith in his son, and helps the boy learn whatever he wishes so that his heir will grow into a wise individual. He even goes so far as to allow Tangua the privilege of finding his own mate, an important political decision that will help shape Tangua's reign over the Southlands.

Time passes and Baron Daraka finds himself growing ever more bitter. Dresa, too, is sadder than ever as Tangua is 'growing up' like her own son who never got the chance. The lonely pair spend all their spare time together, and although a love like he felt for Utamu never develops, Daraka feels very connected with Dresa and a close friendship turns into a deep and passionate affair . Their soulful bond brings an unexpected son into the world. Asikari is doted upon by Dresa, who is practically overbearing on the poor boy. Once, a clumsy Tangua knocked the little cub over whilst playing and the cub screamed for hours, Dresa scolding Tangua the entire time. From that day on, Daraka took more responsibility raising his bastard son, fearing the boy will grow soft and cling to his mother his whole life. Asikari develops into a spitfire fighter like his grandfather Kauli and learns how to love the roughhousing that his worried mother never approved of.

Tangua, meanwhile, is at first unsure of what a younger bother really means, and he approaches his father one evening to ask if Daraka loves Asikari more because Asikari didn't murder his mother at birth. Horrified and shocked, Daraka promises Tangua that no such resentment has ever existed. Tangua is his only heir, and the sunshine in his otherwise grey world. He loves the boy beyond all measure, and although he loves Asikari just as much, he does not ever want to muddy the memory of Utamu by hating the very cub that she brought into the world. Utamu's death was not murder, merely nature, and Tangua had nothing to fear. The young cub considers his father's words carefully, and then with a smile, gives his father's leg a hug and runs off to find his brother. Tangua changes that day. Where as before, his interests had always resided in what was outside the Southlands, his studies shifted to what it took to take care of his pride and kingdom.

Years pass. Baron Daraka's sons grow into their manes and their true natures are realized. Strongly attached to one another, the intelligent and patient Tangua is rarely seen without his bold and brave younger brother. Asikari, always dancing from paw to paw as he anxiously awaits the next adventure, had developed into the finest warrior, becoming head of the Baron's Guard and his brother's best friend. Daraka could not be more proud of what he had created, but dark thoughts still plague his mind. The rebellion had gained strength, breeding more children to become soldiers, and killing cubs of the Green Ridge Pride to weaken the Southlands for attack. Further complicating the situation, Dresa had been pushing Daraka to outright attack the disgusting rebels and quash them once and for all, going so far as to try and plant the idea in Tangua and Asikari's heads.

When Tangua and Asikari return home after Tangua's first official border patrol, beaten and bloody, Daraka is highly dismayed to find out that Haramia has grown, and she has grown mighty. The young lioness had defeated his heir in combat, and it had taken Asikari's entire team of guards to beat her back. Daraka tells the boy the entire history of the Old Line and the New, and of why the rebels do what they do. He fears his son's reaction would be one of disgust, but Tangua is merely curious. The curiosity grows into an obsession that disturbs Daraka. Other things in the kingdom need tending to, such as Tangua's future mate, who was never selected for him.

Unable to secure a betrothed for Tangua in Marathi's daughter, Daraka had given Tangua the leeway to find his own bride, and an allegiance with a strong outside pride could only help fight off the rebels. Asikari, too, had no fiance to speak of, and although the bastard was not his heir, Asikari still held value as the Baron's son. Pressuring the boys to marry does not work, and seemed hopeless when the ultimate distraction was handed over to Tangua; Haramia. Alongside a few of her loyal lioness warriors, Haramia is brought into the court of the Southland for justice. The rebels had been captured after a brutal fight that had given Asikari many scars. Tangua sits beside his father's throne and thinks for a very long time, never once taking his eyes from the unwavering glare of Haramia. Then, to the surprise of all, Tangua allows Haramia's lionesses go. Both Asikari and Daraka leap to their paws in protest, but Tangua turns to them both and with a ferociousness never seen in him before, reprimands his father and brother. HE was given the responsibility of deciding their fate, and it would be HIM and no other that would act in the name of justice.

Daraka paces anxiously all night outside the private chambers of his son while his heir and the rebel queen converse. Asikari utters threat after angry threat, imagining all sorts of horrid punishments for Haramia. Daraka is not comforted by Asikari's promises that Tangua is just teasing the rebels, for Daraka knows Tangua is not cruel. No, he is his mother's son, and he is nothing if not fair and good. When Tangua at last emerges beside a bewildered looking Haramia and announces his engagement to the rebel queen, the entire court falls into a sea of loud voices. Some support the future baron while others understandably are against this most evil of betrothals. Asikari himself is stunned into silence, something that is entirely foreign to the bastard. In private, Tangua explains to his family that a marriage to the leader of the rebels would end the rebellion once and for all, uniting New line with Olde and finally giving the Olde line the justice they so passionately craved.

Daraka is outraged; Haramia marrying Tangua would NOT end the rebellion, only enrage the rebels further and give them more reason to believe they had a claim to the throne. However, Daraka soon realizes his anger is not justified. This is what he wanted his entire reign, was it not? Peace? And a peaceful resolution was exactly what Utamu would have wanted...this could be it. Haramia sends word to her pride, who agree to surrender on the condition of mercy and peace and become loyal Green Ridge Pride lions, and so with a stiff upper lip (and ignoring Dresa and Asikari's angry protests) Baron Daraka gives his royal consent.

Asikari, furious, leaves the kingdom on the morning of Tangua's wedding. Daraka can not comfort Tangua as he would wish, for Tangua had wanted Asikari to be his chosen Carrier of his Circle and Voice of his Heart. Daraka can only impart words upon his son and hope that they strike a nerve, and so tells Tangua that every sun must set one day, even the mighty Sun of Anger. Asikari will come home for his brother one day; the bond of brotherly love is not something that can be vanquished so easily.

The final days winding up to his son's wedding are tense; Haramia is having trouble fitting into a more regal lifestyle and her lionesses are restless, on edge as they wait for someone to give them an excuse to cause trouble. Tangua approaches Haramia's warriors and grants them a militant position that is satisfying to all parties. Tangua allows the lionesses to harass and raid outside territories and kingdoms, and to protect the borders of the kingdom. This way, their aggression is directed into a more positive, productive outlet, and the enemies of the Southlands are dealt with appropriately.

Seeing how wise his gentle son has become, Daraka feels safe leaving the baronial seat to his boy. He feels old now, and out of his prime. Weary, Baron Daraka succeeds the throne to Tangua on his wedding day, deciding he'd like to retire and try to mend things with Dresa in his golden years.

One very still night, Daraka lies alone in his chambers, Dresa having left him to seek her son at the borders. The lion, once strong and powerful, is tired beyond anything he has ever felt before, and the warmth of another curling up against him makes it difficult to keep his eyes open. He talks to the air, telling an audience that only he can see of how proud he is of Tangua, of how he kept his promise and made sure his boy became fair and good and wise. Daraka asks if he's done well, and smiles to himself with a lofty grin. He asks quietly into the air for a lullaby, and beautiful Utamu sings his favourite song as the old Baron Daraka passes from this world and into the stars to be with her forever.

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For XD

SO, here we have Tangua's father, Hasidi's grandsire, and Xokozela's ancestor. I gave him a version of Tangua's mane so that you could see what Tangua's mane would have looked like if he weren't always combing his claws through it out of stress. The ridge around the neck also is carried to his great-grandson Xokozela, which I thought was kind of cool of Rinja to include on her character. He's also got a white-born mother (TOLD YOU IT WAS SUBTLE!!! XD You know who you are...), so he carries the White gene as shown on his ears (which weren't originally black-tipped, but I think it looks dashing on him), which would allow his ancestors to carry the white gene. More importantly, it would allow Hatirisha to be pale (which I never, EVER intended to be due to a white gene, merely the poor girl taking after her grandmother Utamu), Vifijo to produce a white son (Mbeleni), and Uttara to have a white daughter (Danisa) as well. Yes, this guy is Uttara's ancestor. Daraka here has some very strong Southland traits, such as the thick, long dorsal stripe, the darker and sharp undereye rims, the option for colourless toes, and freckles. TONS of freckles. He's scarred up from all his battles, poor bastard.

He's also very, very sad. : ( As you can see, I got a little...carried away when writing Daraka's story. It was never meant to go so far, but I just couldn't help myself. And to all those fans who have read the first draft ever of The Lion King...there's a reference in Daraka's story just for you. Bon appetit!

Anyways, if Rinja would like me to change anything, try some different colour combinations, or edit some aspects of the story, let me know. I fell in love with the Baron Daraka a few sentences in, so I'd be happy to do what it takes to make him fit.