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Chapter Text

Moments before dawn arrived on the Pride Lands, somewhere on the African savannah and miles away from the Sahara desert. Not a bird chirped, and not a bush rustled. The only sounds were crickets chirping, the wind whistling, and grass.

As the sun rose, turning the sky reddish, a lion's roar echoed across the land.

One by one, animals began to stir, hearing the lion's roar. A rhino lifted its head from marking its territory, and several topi antelope had been grazing. Meerkats stood up straight on their hind legs, lined up together, whether adult or baby. A lone cheetah leaped onto a rock, its tail swishing left to right. Indeed, all the Pride Lands animals had heard the roar, and they would answer the call.

The first to leave were storks by the river, whether maribou or shoebill. They flapped their wings and took off, soaring by the roaring Victoria Falls and the wetlands with flamingos. As the birds flew on until they came to Mount Kilimanjaro, they looked below them. Under their shadows were a great herd of elephants plodding along, their matriarch leading them, and antelope were leaping through the grass, silent as shadows.

A mother giraffe stopped at the top of the hill, her baby following her. They spotted the herds moving together before running down the hill to join them. Social animals like zebras and elephants plodded together in that herd, a flock of guinea fowl having to avoid being trampled. Their final obstacle was a stream, which the zebras ran through effortlessly while birds roosted on the elephants' tusks and backs, enjoying the ride.

Soon enough, when the sky started to turn blue, the animals reached their destination: Pride Rock, a majestic mass of rock in the middle of the savannah. For years, Pride Rock had been the symbol of the Pride Lands, a gathering place and natural theater. It gave them a cool place during the dry season and shelter from floods in the wet season. Most importantly, it was home to their lion king and queen, Mufasa and Sarabi, two lions who had ruled this land for a long time. This gathering resulted from the many traditions passed down from generation to generation of the Pride Lands' lions.

On the edge of Pride Rock sat Mufasa, watching the animals gather at where he and the lions called home. He was an impressive, muscular male lion with golden fur and a deep, reddish mane. A blue-and-white hornbill came flying down from the sky and landed before Mufasa. This was Zazu, the king's majordomo and one of his top advisors. Zazu spread his wings and bowed low before the mighty lion, looking up at him with a smile. Mufasa's serious face faded into a warm smile in a few seconds.

Below, the animals parted and bowed as a newcomer arrived. An old mandrill, carrying a staff with fruits on the end, made his way through the crowd and towards Pride Rock. This was Rafiki, the wise old shaman of the Pride Lands, who helped heal the Pride Lands' animals and read signs from the spirits. Mufasa walked forward and smiled at his old friend, waiting until Rafiki made it to where he sat. When the mandrill arrived, the two greeted each other with a warm hug.

"You've made it, Rafiki," Mufasa said warmly. "My friend."

"I am glad to have made it, Your Majesty," said Rafiki, smiling as well. "It is time. Now, where is the young'un?"

Mufasa walked away and headed towards the entrance to their cave. The other lionesses in the pride watched as Mufasa nuzzled his queen, Sarabi. She smiled back at him before gently licking a tiny cub's head. He was born not too long ago, just a week old. His name was Simba, and his baby blue eyes were peering at the newcomer.

Rafiki reached the happy family and bowed to them before focusing on Simba. He gently brought the staff down to the cub and rattled it so the dangling fruit caught his attention. With a mewl, Simba reached up to bat at it with a tiny paw.

Then came a vital part of the presentation. Rafiki took a gourd from the staff and split it open, the juices dripping onto the rock. He dipped a finger into it and gently smeared some juice onto Simba's forehead. As he did this, he prayed, "O great kings of the past, look down upon this cub. He has a grand future ahead of him, guided by your warm words and embrace. Bless him as you will, and may he follow in your pawsteps."

To polish it off, he took a handful of sand and sprinkled it onto his forehead, making Simba sneeze. Mufasa and Sarabi laughed at this.

Rafiki bent down to gently pick Simba up, cradling him in his arms. As he walked towards the edge of Pride Rock, Mufasa and Sarabi followed him, silent as the shadows beneath them. The sun disappeared behind some clouds as if waiting for the right moment to shine on the scene at play, and the animals far below waited for Rafiki to reappear.

Finally, once Rafiki reached the edge, he lifted Simba into the air until everyone could see him. The animals, from elephants to monkeys to zebras, shouted, roared, and screeched their welcomes to the cub. Then, the sunlight burst through the clouds, shining down upon Simba. One by one, the animals started to bow to their future king. As for the cub named Simba, he was unaware of what was going on.

This was the Circle of Life, the way of the wild. In times of ease and hardship, the animals depended on each other and the order of life to go on. And though Simba didn't know it, he would complete the circle as the true king.

...

Once the ceremony was over, several animals approached to congratulate the king and queen. But one animal didn't show up, one not missed much by the creatures of the Pride Lands. And that was Scar, Mufasa's younger brother.

Mufasa didn't let his disappointment show, but he couldn't help feeling it. He had no idea why Scar started hating him, but he had hoped his brother would put aside his jealousy for the family for just one day. Sadly, Scar didn't seem to care, acting as bitter and resentful as before. Their parents, King Ahadi and Queen Uru, had chosen Mufasa as king since he was firstborn, which somehow made him a villain in Scar's eyes. Scar had not started life this way, but he had become a bitter creature, stirring discontent among the younger lions and scoffing at the older lions.

"Zazu," Mufasa called to the bird greeting the animals. "Come here if you'd please."

The hornbill flew over and landed on Mufasa's shoulder. "Yes, Sire?" he asked with a grin. But when he saw his king's frown, he also frowned and sniffed contemptuously. "Ah...he didn't show up to the ceremony this morning? Why am I not surprised? And I told him he was the first to be invited."

"No, he had not come," replied Mufasa. "I hoped he would set aside his grudge, but he hadn't. If you'd like to tell him I'm on my way so I can talk to him..."

"Already on it," interrupted Zazu. He flapped his wings and took off towards the lower part of Pride Rock.

Mufasa watched him go before turning back to his family. He wanted to spend more time with them, telling Sarabi how proud he was of her and how much he loved her and fussing over baby Simba. Then, after that, he would confront Scar, lion to lion.

Chapter Text

In a cave below Pride Rock, Scar was stewing. The kingdom was celebrating the birth of the brat they called "Simba." It was so loud that the cave walls seemed to vibrate from the noise. Was it too much to ask for a bit of peace and quiet in his cave? All that fuss over one stupid little cub. It was utterly disgusting and very typical of Mufasa to disregard his need for solitude.

Scar scraped the floor of his cave with his claws. Out of his eye, he saw a mouse sniffing nearby, looking for something to eat. Even if it wasn't a buffalo, at least he had something to eat here. If he were out on the savannah, he would have been a good hunter if it hadn't been for the scar over his left eye. The older lions deemed him not to be a good hunter, so he was never brought out for hunting, not even for lessons. In his cave, however, he was a wise and mighty hunter in his own eyes.

He slunk towards the mouse, ensuring it didn't notice or sniff his scent. He carefully lifted his paw and then quickly slammed it down onto the tiny creature. The mouse squeaked in terror and wriggled when Scar gripped its tail between his toes and lifted it to his face.

"Life's not fair, is it, my little friend?" the lion muttered, watching the mouse try desperately to escape. "While some are born to feast, others spend their lives in the dark, begging for scraps. You and I are the same, the way I see it." He slightly released his grasp on the mouse's tail. "We both want a way out."

The mouse seemed to wriggle free and tried to leap away, but Scar caught it again. Jealousy was gnawing at the inner core of his being. He should have been greeting the animals out there, not Mufasa. And as if it weren't bad enough, his son had to be born. But that wasn't all. His father, Ahadi, had always showered Mufasa with praise and attention while leaving Scar - formerly named Askari - out in the cold. Ahadi had given him the top position of the Lion Guard, a band of lions that protected the Pride Lands and their way of life...as a consolation prize of sorts.

But since he used the Roar Of The Elders to wipe out the Lion Guard, persuaded by a strange lion, Askari had felt his life was worsening. The strange lion had betrayed him by giving him a scar through a cobra bite, telling him to work with him to get the cure. Askari had killed him and the cobra with the Roar, but the venom was slowly affecting his thinking and emotions, and Mufasa and Ahadi seemed to joke about the scar, calling him that as well. To heck with going to the Tree of Life to be cured, he had thought bitterly as he had changed his name to Scar. So be it if the path to becoming king meant bearing the venom and losing his sanity.

"You see...I will never be king. And you," he added with a smirk, holding on to the mouse's tail, "shall never see the light of another day. Adieu."

He opened his jaws and was ready to swallow the mouse when a flapping of wings filled the cave. Then, a familiar scolding voice echoed in the cave, demanding, "Didn't your mother ever tell you not to play with your food?"

Scar glared around at who had interrupted his meal. It was a familiar blue-and-white hornbill bird with a large red beak, holding his head up with a pompous flair. Zazu was almost as bad as his brother and twice as annoying with his arrogant attitude. He also seemed constantly nervous, even though no lion in the pride was to harm or eat him.

"What do you want, Zazu?" he grumbled.

"I just wanted to let you know that King Mufasa has requested an audience with you," said Zazu, bowing as he usually did, to Scar's annoyance. "This is not a drill. I repeat, this is not a drill. He is on his way, so you'd better have a good excuse for missing the ceremony."

As Zazu talked, the mouse slipped out from under Scar's paw and scurried into a hole in the cave wall.

"Oh, look, Zazu," the lion pouted, "you made me lose my lunch."

Zazu scoffed. "You'll lose more than that when the king gets here, and you answer to him," he said, folding his wings over his chest. "He's as mad as a hippo with a hernia."

I answer to no one, you featherbrained fool, Scar scoffed silently. Then, as soon as the thought left his mind, he gave Zazu a creepy smile while he leaned in. "Oh, I quiver with fear," he hissed as he started stalking toward the hornbill, who now looked frightened.

"Scar...Scar-Scar-Scar-Scar-Scar-Scar...don't look at me like that," Zazu stammered, backing away from the stalking lion.

But Scar didn't. Even if he wasn't to be king, that didn't mean he couldn't enjoy himself, and that involved hurting creatures smaller than himself. "Are you hungry, Zazu?" he drawled. "Maybe we can share a bite."

With the word "bite" escaping his lips, he pounced. Zazu squawked and tried flying away. Scar swiped his paws to try to swat the hornbill to the ground.

"You can't eat me!" Zazu squawked with fear. "It's forbidden to eat a member of the king's court!"

But Scar didn't care. He swiped his paw with a sneer as Zazu tried to fly away, catching him and sending him to the ground. He stepped towards the dazed bird and pinned his small body with his paw, opening his jaws to take a bite.

"SCAR! Release him."

Scar looked up from his catch outside the cave. There he was: Mufasa, king of the Pridelands. He was a large male lion, bigger than Scar. He looked much more well-fed, too, muscles rippling from under his golden tawny coat.

Zazu's beak popped out from under Scar's paw to say, "Impeccable timing, Your Majesty!" before Scar released the bird, who ruffled his feathers.

"Why, if it isn't my big brother who's descended from up high to mingle with the commoners," Scar said with a false smile.

But Mufasa wasn't smiling. "First, I don't want to see you treat Zazu like that again. He is my top advisor, and you will show him kindness and respect," the Lion King chided. "And second, Sarabi and I didn't see you at the presentation of Simba."

Scar put on a surprised façade. "That was today? Oh, I feel simply awful!" He reached up and scraped the rock wall with his claws, making a screeching sound that made Zazu cringe. "Must have slipped my mind. Of course, I mean no disrespect toward His Majesty...or Sarabi." His green eyes seemed to gleam at the name he uttered. "As you know, brother, I have tremendous respect for the queen."

Mufasa felt the fur along his spine bristle, and Scar smirked at the effect of his words on him. It was never comfortable to be in the same area as the brothers whenever they argued. One could feel Mufasa's anger and Scar's indifference at the same time. Zazu could do just that, being caught in the middle.

"Well, as slippery as your mind is," Zazu said testily, "as the king's brother, you should've been first in line!" But a snap from Scar's teeth sent the bird flying away and hiding behind Mufasa.

"Oh, I was first in line," Scar growled. "But don't you remember, Zazu? I was first until the precious little hairball was born."

"That 'hairball' is my son," Mufasa retorted, "and your future king."

Scar smirked. "Oh, I think I'll go practice my curtsey." At this, he began to walk away, not wanting to deal with his brother and the annoying bird.

"Don't turn your back on me, Scar!" Mufasa growled. Scar's blatant disrespect and contempt were starting to irritate him.

"Oh no, Mufasa," Scar replied, smirking over his shoulder. "Perhaps you shouldn't turn your back on me."

With a thunderous roar, Mufasa charged forward until he blocked the cave entrance, the brothers locking eyes with each other. "Is that a challenge?" he snarled.

Scar rolled his eyes. "Temper, temper. I wouldn't dream of challenging you." With a smirk, he couldn't help but utter, "Again."

It was no secret that Scar once challenged his older brother for control of the pride. The fierce battle took place on a stormy night, and Mufasa had won. Scar had lost, the recent wound over his eye from the cobra having reopened until it was red, and his behavior had worsened.

"Pity," Zazu snapped from beside Mufasa. "Why not?"

"Well, as far as brains go, I got the lion's share. But when it comes to brute strength..." At this point, he lifted his gaze to glare at Mufasa at this part before walking past them. "I'm afraid I'm at the shallow end of the gene pool. And my big brother - the great Mufasa - will always reign."

"Not always," Mufasa responded. "As I have said, it will be Simba who will rule this land."

"Then long live the king," Scar muttered. Then he slunk away, feeling thirsty and not wanting to stay around with Mufasa anymore.

Mufasa watched him go with a sigh. Though it didn't end with any fighting, he still felt tense after their meeting. This was not how he wanted things to go. He had hoped to hear of a good reason Scar had missed out on the ceremony: to bond as they once had when they were cubs. Sadly, that wasn't going to happen anytime soon.

"There's one in every family, Sire," said Zazu, flying up to rest on Mufasa's shoulder. "Well, two in mine. And they always manage to ruin special occasions."

Mufasa shook his head. "What am I going to do with him?"

Zazu smirked and replied, "He'd make a very handsome throw rug."

"Zazu!" Mufasa chided, but he couldn't help but smile.

"And when he gets dirty, you can take him out and beat him!" continued Zazu, making Mufasa laugh. Then he continued, "Or introduce him to some charging rhinos."

"What are the rhinos charging these days?" Mufasa quipped.

This got Zazu chuckling. "Oh, that was a good one, Sire. Witty. Really witty!"

Mufasa smirked. "You're only saying that because you have to."

"Well...yes," Zazu admitted. Then he stated his dream solution: "Or why not just throw him out of his den with your teeth and claws? I'm serious! You and I know he should've been thrown out of the Pride Lands long ago."

This time, Mufasa stopped laughing and smiling. No matter how disrespectful or snide Scar had acted, he was still Mufasa's brother. He wasn't sure what had made Scar act the way he was acting now, but he still wanted to help him.

"He's my brother, Zazu," he reminded his advisor. "As long as I'm king, that will never change. Even if it kills me, I will help him back on the right path."

"As I said, there's one in every family," replied Zazu. "Why, one of my cousins thought that he was a woodpecker. He slammed his head into trees, and God knows that hornbill beaks aren't built for it. Because of this, he had concussions regularly, and - "

He stopped and looked around. Mufasa was gone.

Zazu sighed. "And, of course, you're gone."

...

The rain had come to Africa, showering the land with rain and storms. It was still the wet season, so it rained every few days. The grass remained green, but no animals came out to graze just yet. Lightning flashed across the sky, and the thunder rolled.

Rafiki, the mandrill, was at work in a baobab tree. After the ceremony, he returned to his lone baobab tree, where he painted a picture of the newborn prince. He did this with Mufasa when he was younger, just as his teacher did with King Ahadi.

Rafiki hummed as he continued his work, finishing the facial features. He chuckled, knowing that he was getting the cub's features right. Other creatures sharing the baobab with him—including insects, spiders, and birds—came to witness his work. Then, remembering the ceremony, he gently smeared the painting's forehead with a little paint.

"Simba," he murmured with a chuckle. This cub would have a promising future ahead of him; he was sure of that.

Chapter Text

Several months later, a brand new day would dawn on the Pride Lands; the rains had come and gone. Young Prince Simba grew in size until he was a healthy cub, having lost the baby fat from his infancy, and his temporary blue eyes turned to amber as he matured. While he aged physically, he also grew in confidence and adventure. From the moment the sun rose to the moment it set, he was full of energy, only finally settling down when it was time for bed.

One morning, Simba woke up earlier than the other lions. He had just come out of a dream of him and his father rescuing a family of mongooses and fighting off crocodiles together. He watched the savannah below Pride Rock, ready to get out there and explore. He looked back to see if one of the cubs had gotten up, too, but they were still asleep. But Simba realized he didn't need a playmate today; today was the day he would spend quality time with his father.

"Dad! Dad!" he yowled, running back into the cave. "Come on, we gotta go! Wake up!"

He jumped among the mass of lionesses and cubs, trying not to step on them. Even though he did accidentally pounce on another lion's back, he apologized, which was returned with a sleepy grunt. Finally, Simba reached the back of the cave, where his parents slept. While Simba had grown since his ceremony, he was still tiny compared to his father, Mufasa, the largest lion in the pride.

"Dad!" Simba chirped, trying to get Mufasa's attention. But Mufasa answered with a snore, leading Simba to whine, "Daaadd…"

Sarabi had opened her eyes to ensure her son wasn't hurt or sick. When she saw that he was antsy, she smiled and closed her eyes again. "Your son is awake," she mumbled to Mufasa with amusement.

"Before sunrise, he is your son," Mufasa muttered back, as Simba repeated "Dad."

In the meantime, Simba kept trying his best to wake his father up. Tugging on his ear didn't work since he tumbled into some bones, so he tried headbutting the area below his jaw. "You promised!" he said with a pout.

Mufasa opened his eyes to find himself staring into Simba's pouting face, half drowsy and half amused. "Okay, okay," he muttered. "I'm up."

Simba cheered and spun around in a few circles. Mufasa let out a loud yawn, which sounded like a roar. Beside him, Sarabi rolled onto her paws, bending down to lick his cheek, which he returned with a gentle headbutt.

The royal family left the cave while the other lionesses and their cubs began to stir. Simba darted over to his mother, rubbing against her front legs, and Sarabi nuzzled him in return, nudging him along. She watched father and son leave with a smile on her muzzle.

"So what'll we do today, Dad?" Simba asked once they left Sarabi behind. "Give orders for the hunt? Chase any bad guys out?"

Mufasa didn't answer, only strolled ahead. But he was heading towards the back of Pride Rock, not away from it.

"Dad?" Simba piped up, confused. "You're going the wrong way!"

Mufasa grinned over his shoulder. "Who says I'm going the wrong way?" was all he asked before walking on. "Come. Follow me."

So Simba decided not to argue and followed his father. While he struggled to leap from ledge to ledge on the side of Pride Rock, Mufasa effortlessly pulled himself up. He was an adult, so it was easier for an adult than a cub. Simba was already tired from the climb, but he didn't want to give up. Finally, they reached the top, and Simba walked over to sit by Mufasa, who sat near the edge of the top of Pride Rock, looking out towards the horizon before letting out a roar. To Mufasa, it was to signal to the kingdom that he had awoken and was ready to start the day.

After the roar, nothing happened for a few moments, and soon, it felt like hours. Simba almost wished he hadn't gotten up so early; that way, whatever Mufasa wanted to show him could come sooner.

"What're we doing up here?" Simba mewed. "Nothing's going on. Am I even allowed to be up here? I've always wanted to come up here, but can I?"

Mufasa shifted his gaze to Simba, his eyes and face serious. Then he looked back to the horizon. "Look, Simba," he rumbled. "Everything the light touches is our kingdom."

Simba followed his gaze and looked out to the savannah. The sun was now rising, enormous, magnificent, and golden, bathing the land with orange and yellow. Life began to stir on the open plains and forests surrounding the Pride Lands. It was a beautiful sight, a breathtaking view, and anything else that Simba wished he could describe better.

"Wow..." was the only word the cub could use for this.

Mufasa nodded. "A king's time as ruler rises and falls like the sun. One day, Simba, the sun will set on my time here and rise with you as the new king."

Simba lowered his ears at the tone of Mufasa's voice. He seemed to have a mixture of seriousness and sadness in his tone. A shiver ran through Simba's fur as he thought of his father possibly dying, which made him sad. But the sadness was suddenly replaced by realization.

"Wait, you're saying this will all be mine?" he asked Mufasa.

"In a way. Though it does not entirely belong to the king or anyone," Mufasa added. "This land will be yours to protect. As king, I must protect everything the light touches and be the first servant to the kingdom, and it will be your duty one day to carry on in my place."

Simba nodded and turned his head in any direction he could see. Mufasa knew it was too much for a young cub to take in all at once, but he would learn. Lions had been known to grow up fast in Africa, and the Pride Lands were no exception.

"Everything the light touches..." Simba repeated his father's words, his eyes darting to the trees, watering holes, and mountains. Then he noticed a darker area outside the Pride Lands' borders. "What about that shadowy place?"

"That's beyond our borders, in the Outlands," Mufasa replied, his eyes on the shadowy place. "You must never go there, Simba."

"But I thought a king can do whatever he wants," Simba questioned. "You know, take some territory."

Mufasa smirked. "Oh, there's more to being a king than always getting your way."

Simba's face lit up, and his ears perked. "There's more?"

"Simba..." Mufasa broke off with an amused laugh. Then he let his face become serious and said, "But yes, there is more. While others search for what they can take, a true king searches for what he can give."

It sounded too complicated for Simba. He wanted to know more about how being a king meant being in charge of the place. But he wanted to learn more from his father. So when Mufasa began climbing from Pride Rock, Simba did his best to match his stride and amble.

While they walked, Mufasa pointed out the various places in the Pride Lands. He introduced Simba to the grove where the elephants rested in the shade, a small oasis where smaller animals could live, and everything else. Other animals were up already and moving about. Birds were flocking in the air, and two young male rhinos were practicing their fighting, their horns clashing. For the predators, he saw wild dogs feeding their pups from a zebra carcass, regurgitating the meat so the pups had softer meat.

As a herd of antelope raced by, Simba wanted to join them and try to catch one. But Mufasa shook his head; there would be time for that later.

"Everything you see exists together in a delicate balance," he told his son as they walked on. "As king, you need to understand that balance. To understand that balance, you must respect all the creatures, from the crawling ant to the leaping antelope."

"But Dad, don't we eat the antelope?" Simba asked, watching the antelope disappear behind some shrubs.

Mufasa nodded. "Yes, Simba, but let me explain. When we die, our bodies become the grass, and the antelope eat the grass. And so, we are all connected in the great Circle of Life."

Simba looked down with his father to the watering hole, where a multitude of animals had gathered. Zebras were drinking from the shallow end, giraffes were browsing from the acacia trees, and birds called oxpeckers were landing on these animals, picking off any parasites for their next meal. As for Simba, he was amazed and stunned at how much the world worked.

Suddenly, a voice chirped above them, "Good morning, Sire!" Father and son looked up as Zazu flew in from above and landed before them on a rock. His bright red beak seemed to be the only thing in the Pride Lands that was brighter than the sun.

"Good morning, Zazu," Mufasa greeted.

"I see you're already taking the young prince on his first royal tour of the kingdom," Zazu started with a quick bow. "Oh, I was already flying around and letting the other animals know. For example, the greeting committee gives trumpeting elephants all the Pomp and Circumstance."

Mufasa shook his head. "Zazu, I don't want any fanfare today," he rumbled.

Zazu shrugged. "Oh, Sire, you know you love it. And it pleases the subjects, for they have so little light in their dreary lives."

"Yeah, Dad," Simba added. "What's wrong with a little fanfare?"

But Mufasa remained unmoved, so Zazu cleared his throat and said, "Er...I'm mainly checking in for the morning report."

"Fire away," Mufasa replied.

"Well, the buzz from the bees is that the flamingos are taking a stand," Zazu reported. Mufasa nodded for him to go on, and he did. "The leopards are in a bit of a spot, and the baboons are going ape over this. The giraffes were caught necking, but they acted like they were above it all. Pua and his crocodiles are snapping up fresh offers by the banks..."

While Zazu talked and Mufasa listened, Simba got a little bored hearing the morning report. Just then, he noticed a grasshopper hopping around. He waited while Mufasa and Zazu talked and started following the jumping insect. He pounced after it, but it was always out of reach.

"What are you doing?" Mufasa asked curiously, walking over to Simba.

Simba stopped pouncing when he realized that he hadn't caught the grasshopper. "Pouncing."

Mufasa had a big grin on his face. "Some fun, eh? Let an old pro show you how it's done."

Meanwhile, Zazu was continuing his morning report. "The tick birds are pecking on the elephants. I told the elephants to forget it, but they can't. The cheetahs are hard up from failing to steal the baboons' dinner. But as I always say, cheetahs never prosper." He paused to laugh at his joke before continuing. "The vultures have a hunch that not everyone will return from lunch. The buffalo have a beef about this season's grass - "

"Stay low to the ground," Mufasa whispered to Simba, his voice so low that Zazu couldn't hear. Simba nodded and repeated it to himself a few times, leading Mufasa to scold gently, "Not a sound."

"What's going on?" Zazu asked, taking a short break from his report.

"Just giving Simba a pouncing lesson," replied Mufasa. "Turn around, please."

"Oh, right. Pouncing." Then Zazu squawked with shock, "Pouncing?! Oh, Sire, you can't be serious!"

All Mufasa did was smirk and signal for Zazu to turn around. Zazu groaned but did as he was told, muttering, "This is so humiliating..."

In the meantime, Mufasa instructed Simba on how to hunt. "Check the wind," he murmured. "Stay in the shadows, and take it slow. And wait for the perfect moment to pounce."

"What are you telling him now?" Zazu demanded.

But when he looked around, no one answered or was in sight. No one except the sounds of other birds singing.

"Mufasa?" peeped Zazu, cringing. "...Simba?"

And just like that, Simba came out of nowhere, catching Zazu off guard. He pounced until he slammed Zazu to the ground. Mufasa laughed, and Simba left his "catch", trotting back to his father with his head and tail high.

Zazu got up, grumbling and dusting off his feathers. He was just about to fly over and remind the lions that he was their advisor, not their plaything, when a mole rat popped out of the ground. He whispered something to Zazu, leading the majordomo to fly up and check the area.

In the meantime, Mufasa was praising Simba for his pouncing skills. He was going to instruct him on new hunting techniques when Zazu suddenly flew down to them. "Sire!" he shrieked. "Hyenas, in the Pride Lands! They're on the hunt!"

Immediately, Mufasa was on alert. He was no longer laughing, and his face had become severe. "Is Sarabi with the lionesses? Can you see them?"

"Yes, they're trying to drive those brutes out," Zazu reported.

"Good. Zazu, take Simba home," Mufasa commanded. "I have to help defend our borders."

With that, he began to run off. The hyenas had broken their agreement not to intrude into the Pride Lands. They had their own land, while those living in the Pride Lands had theirs. His father had once told him that borders were needed for this purpose. Now, he would need to drive them out yet again.

"Aw, Dad, can I come?" Simba begged. "I can help!"

"No, Simba," Mufasa told him sternly. "This isn't something for young ones to get involved with. You stay with the other cubs, where it's safe."

With that, he ran off. Simba tried again to pursue him, but Zazu flew down and landed in his path. In the meantime, Mufasa was now nothing more than a speck slowly disappearing.

"I never get to go anywhere," Simba grumbled aloud as he marched back to Pride Rock.

"Oh, young master, you will. One day, you'll be king," Zazu reminded him. "And then you can chase those slobbering, mangy, stupid poachers from dawn till dusk! Now come, let's get you home."

Simba grumbled but followed Zazu while the hornbill took to the air. He had wanted to spend the entire day with Mufasa and help him out, but he had to spend the rest of the day with the other cubs. Life wasn't fair at times.

Chapter Text

Simba watched the other cubs at play, partaking in games like Catch The Tail or Pounce On The Pebble; one of the cubs (a male named Tojo) even let some birds he and Simba had raised roost on his back. Right now, though, he wasn't in the mood to play with his peers. He usually liked hanging around with the other cubs, but some of him still pouted over being left behind by Mufasa.

I'll show Dad I can hunt, he decided to himself. Then he'll have to take me hunting and fighting with him.

He looked around, looking for something to hunt. He saw Zazu perching on a branch near the edge of the cubs' clearing, watching them and some of the other lionesses. But Simba decided not to for two reasons. The first was that Zazu was out of reach, and the second was that he had pounced on him earlier anyway. So he kept looking for a target to pounce on, one that would not fly away.

The other cubs were another option; he usually didn't mind playing games with them. But Simba would have to tell them what he was doing, and they would want to play, too. He wasn't in the mood to have the other cubs butting in on his fun today.

So he kept looking again until he noticed a blue beetle climbing on a faraway log. It was minding its own business, and it was also the perfect target for his hunt. Remembering what Mufasa taught him, Simba slunk low in the grass. He was inching farther away from the other cubs until he was near the bottom of Pride Rock. The beetle kept going its merry way; if it knew that Simba was stalking it, it paid him no attention.

"I'm gonna be a mighty king," he whispered, edging closer to the beetle. "Enemies beware..."

He crept ever so close to the beetle until his face was near its shiny blue body. Suddenly, the beetle extended its wings and fluttered off, leaving Simba to watch it go...and then it landed in front of him again. Simba smiled and prepared for his pounce.

"If you wish to kill something, you might want to stay downwind."

Simba whipped around and jumped a foot into the air. Scar was watching him from the shadow of his den, lying down and glowering. His dark, tawny fur and black mane were hidden in the shadows, so Simba was startled. The cub wondered if his uncle was in a good mood to talk.

"I know how to hunt, Uncle Scar," Simba told the dark lion. "I'm just helping protect the Pride Lands. Watch!"

He pounced at the beetle, but it flew off for good this time. All that left Simba to do was crash into the rock nose-first. He backed away, grumbling and rubbing his nose with a paw.

"Well, let's pray that we're never attacked by a beetle. We wouldn't want to have a scar like mine, would we?" Scar responded with a sneer. He turned away with his back towards Simba, swishing his tail. "Now, go back to the other cubs. I don't babysit."

Despite Scar's harshness, Simba wasn't let down. The memory of his father showing him the kingdom was still buzzing in his mind, and the thought of becoming king was buzzing even more.

"Oh, wait a minute!" he said, running towards the den. "Hey, Uncle Scar, guess what?"

Already back in his den, Scar stopped strolling and rolled his eyes. "I despise guessing games."

"I'm gonna be king of Pride Rock," Simba boasted.

Scar scowled even more until his teeth were almost bared. He didn't want to be reminded that he would not get to be king, not while Mufasa and his bratty cub were still alive. "Is that so?" he muttered with dripping sarcasm, giving Simba a withering glare when the cub's back was turned.

Simba walked over towards his uncle until he climbed onto the rock near his den's entrance. "Think about it. When I'm king, I get to give you orders and tell you what to do. How weird is that?"

"Oh, goody," Scar grumbled. Hearing all this made him want to throw up or hack up hairballs like he had seen caracals do once.

"Dad showed me the entire kingdom this morning. And I'm gonna rule it all!" Simba added with a laugh.

"Well, forgive me for not leaping for joy," growled Scar. "Bad back, you know."

And with that, he flopped down to the cave floor, trying to ignore Simba. But the cub's scent told him that Simba was still there, curious as ever.

Simba padded into his uncle's cave, looking around. He had never been here before, and now he could see why. It felt colder than the den above them; the air smelled funny, and bones seemed to litter the ground like old branches. This place seemed creepy, but his curiosity won him over.

"Hey, Uncle Scar," Simba said, running over and leaning on Scar's black mane. "When I'm king, what does that make you?"

"A monkey's uncle," Scar grumbled.

Simba laughed and tumbled away from Scar. "You're so weird."

This time, Scar grinned. "You have no idea," he said, just as an idea popped into his mind. He lifted himself and walked to the entrance of his cave. "So your father showed you the whole kingdom, did he?"

"Everything," replied Simba. "He showed me the watering hole, the mountains, just...everything."

"He didn't show you what's beyond that rise at the northern border, though, did he?" Scar pressed on.

Simba groaned and sat down. He didn't know Scar knew about the shadowy place at the border. "No. He said I can't go there. Ever."

"And he's absolutely right!" Scar declared, to Simba's surprise. "It's far too dangerous. Only the bravest lions go there."

As Scar had predicted, Simba perked up, curious. "Well, I'm brave. What's out there?"

"No, I'm sorry, Simba. I just can't tell you," Scar said with a pompous air, turning away.

"Why not?"

"Simba, Simba," Scar said, gently rubbing the cub's head, "I'm only looking out for the well-being of my favorite nephew."

Simba playfully wriggled out of his uncle's grasp. "Yeah, right. I'm your only nephew."

Scar grinned. "All the more reason for me to be protective. An elephant graveyard is no place for a young prince." Then he pretended to gasp and say, "Oops!"

"An elephant what?" Simba mewed in amazement. No wonder Mufasa didn't want him going there; though it could just be bones everywhere, that was where he wanted to go. "Whoa!"

"Oh dear, I've said too much!" Scar chided himself. Then he grinned again, a crafty grin. "Well, I suppose you'd have found out sooner or later, you being so clever."

"Have you been there?" Simba asked, more curious than ever. Mufasa had always told him to leave Scar alone, saying he wasn't a social lion. But so far, Scar didn't seem so bad to him once he got past the grumpy attitude.

Scar grinned. "Of course. Every lion has been there. I've been there; your father, your mother, and...every lion who's anybody has been there. However, it's no place for a cub." When Simba scowled at the thought of 'cub' being mentioned again, Scar pressed on, "Seriously, it's pretty dangerous there for a cub. All those rotting bones and oozing puddles of mud are just...well, I daresay it would take a full year to get the filth from there off your fur."

While his words were discouraging, they intrigued Simba. Now he wanted to go there and find out what the place was like. It was way too tempting to pass up. It would even be worth seeing all those rotting bones and oozing mud.

"It's just one appalling area to avoid at all costs. Just promise me one thing," Scar said, pulling Simba in close for a hug. "Promise me you'll never visit that dreadful place!"

The elephant graveyard almost sounded fun. Scar's words encouraged him even more, making him want to go there. But he smiled at Scar and replied, "No problem!"

Scar smiled in return and let Simba up. "There's a good lad. You run along now, have some fun and play. And remember," he called before Simba could run off some more, "it's our little secret, your majesty."

Simba ran off, leaving his uncle behind. It was a secret that he wouldn't tell anyone at all...well, almost everyone. There was one person he would ask about the elephant graveyard. So he ran off to find that someone.

As for Scar, he smirked and headed back into his den. That was much easier than he had thought. Hearing Simba talk about how he would be king was even more unbearable now that Mufasa had to blab about the "Circle of Life". So he decided that to be next in line again, Simba would need to go.

Chapter Text

Simba ran as fast as he could from one end of Pride Rock to the other, trying to find someone to tell his secret to. It definitely couldn't be one of the adults, for they would know what he was up to. He would be in big trouble, and so could Uncle Scar for telling him about it. No, he would only have to tell his best friend.

One of those places was an outcropping where his mother, Sarabi, lay with the other lionesses in the pride. She must have gotten back from chasing the hyenas away, looking relaxed already despite the new scars on her pelt, and the other lionesses had returned from their morning hunt. Near her was her friend Sarafina, who was giving her daughter a grooming. Her daughter, Nala, was one of Simba's closest friends in the Pride Lands, a young light-furred female cub with teal eyes.

Nala herself was eager to spend the day with Simba. They would often get into mischief and hang out together, like going to the watering hole, pretending that other lions' tails were snakes, and practicing fighting. Being friends with a prince certainly had its advantages. It felt nice to be treated like royalty, even if she and her mother weren't royal like Mufasa and his queen and son.

But today, she had to get a bath from her mother. Fortunately for her, her luck changed. Simba came running into the clearing, greeting the other lionesses as they greeted the prince.

"Hey, Nala," Simba greeted her when he got to her.

"Hi, Simba," Nala greeted back with a smile.

Simba smiled, too, and darted a bit away. "Come on, I just heard about this great place."

Nala frowned as her mother kept grooming her. "Simba, I'm kinda in the middle of a bath," she muttered.

"You'll have to wait until she's done before going anywhere," Sarafina added.

"And it's time for your bath, young cub," said a familiar voice behind him.

Before Simba could flee, Sarabi had picked him up and laid him down in her forepaws. She was a huge lioness, the biggest lioness in the pride, and she had the darkest tawny coat out of them, too. She began licking him, which made Simba squirm.

"Mom!" Simba whined, fidgeting. If there was one thing he truly hated in the world, it was baths. "Mom, you're messing up my mane!" Sarabi smiled as her son wriggled out of her grasp. "Okay, okay, I'm clean. Can we go now?"

"So where are we going?" Nala asked while her mother washed her rump. "It better not be anyplace dumb."

"No, it's cool," Simba reassured her.

"So where is this 'cool' place?" Sarabi asked with a smile.

Simba had almost forgotten that his mother was behind him. "Oh...around the watering hole."

Nala looked up from her bath, unimpressed. "The watering hole? What's so great about the watering hole?"

Simba grinned up at his mother before turning to Nala. "I'll show you when we get there," he whispered tersely.

"Oh," Nala replied, now nodding in understanding. She looked up at her mother with big teal eyes. "Mom, can I go with Simba?"

Sarafina shrugged before looking up at her friend and queen. "What do you think, Sarabi?"

"Well..." Sarabi began. "The hyenas could still be lurking around."

"Pleeeeease?" both cubs asked with big grins.

"But I'm sure we scared them off," Sarabi said. "So as long as you stay in the shallow end, it's alright with me."

The cubs cheered and jumped around in delight. Simba couldn't believe that it worked; he was going to show Nala the elephant graveyard after all. They were just about to leave when what Sarabi said next ruined their mood: "You can go there as long as Zazu goes with you."

This caused them to grind to a halt. "No, not Zazu!" Simba groaned. The hornbill was going to ruin his plan.

"Either Zazu goes with you, or you don't go at all," Sarabi called, firmer this time.

And there it was, Simba thought with a roll of his eyes. So they had to wait until Zazu returned to escort the cubs to their destination.

...

"Step lively, everyone! Come on! Step up! Let's move as a unit!" Zazu called from above the cubs. "The sooner we get there, the sooner we can leave! When we get to the watering hole, you are to stay in the shallow end."

The two cubs ambled under Zazu's shadow through the tall savannah grass. Soon, the soft soil underneath them would harden into tough earth once the dry season rolled around, but it was comforting for now. Other than Zazu occasionally humming to himself, it was pretty peaceful.

"So where are we going?" Nala whispered. "You can't fool me, Simba. It's not the watering hole."

Simba turned to Nala in surprise. If there was one thing Nala knew well about him, it was that he always had a trick up his sleeve. "How'd you know that?"

Nala smiled. "It's not hard to guess. You hate getting in the water. So, as I was asking, where are we going?"

"I've heard about this place, Nala," Simba whispered. "The most incredible, the most amazing - "

At this, Nala swished her tail. "Just tell me where!"

"An elephant graveyard," Simba replied.

"WOW!" Nala exclaimed loudly.

Simba saw Zazu look down briefly at them, so he ran to Nala's side to shush her. "Shh...Zazu!" he reminded her, eyes darting up to the hornbill.

Nala nodded. "Sorry. How far is it?"

"Not far," Simba replied, but then he realized he had no idea how 'not far' it was. "Just to the shadowy place beyond the borders. My uncle Scar told me that everyone's been there."

"We've never been that far before. What if we get lost?" Nala asked, looking nervous for the first time.

Right now, Simba nearly felt the same way. He had no idea if he and Nala would find their way back home. Just the thought of being lost in the middle of the wilderness made him feel very small, and it was a horrifying thought.

But then again, he didn't want to be scared in front of Nala. He was the future king; kings were always brave and never got lost. And after all, Scar even said that every lion had been there.

So he declared, "Relax, Nala. My dad and I patrolled the entire kingdom this morning. We don't have anything to worry about."

"Almost anything," said Nala, looking up to the sky. Simba followed her gaze and saw Zazu circling above them like bees chasing him.

Suddenly, Zazu began squawking. "We have an imminent threat! Something is approaching!" Then, as the cubs froze from fright, Zazu spoke again, relieved. "Oh, never mind. It's my own shadow." Then he continued monitoring the area, embarrassed by his blunder.

When the cubs kept walking, Nala muttered, "So how are we going to ditch the dodo?"

"Leave it to me," Simba bragged. "And I'll get us to freedom."

Zazu's shadow grew more prominent, and Simba looked up. The hornbill had landed on the ground before them, a big smile on his beak.

"How lovely it is to see you two chatting," Zazu greeted them. "Little seeds of romance blossoming on the savannah...your parents would be thrilled. It's so thrilling, I can molt!"

Nala's ears perked. "What do you mean?"

"You know, you being betrothed and all," replied Zazu.

"What?" Simba was utterly confused.

Zazu flapped his wings. "You know...betrothed. Intended. Affianced."

"Simba, you speak bird?" Nala asked wryly.

"Meaning?" Simba asked, more confused than ever.

"Married! One day, you two will be married," Zazu informed them. When the cubs didn't respond, he added a bit more impatiently, "To each other!"

"Us?" Nala added.

"No, me," said Zazu sarcastically. "Yes, you two!"

For one long moment, the cubs looked at Zazu and then at each other. Then Simba realized what Zazu meant. It meant something similar to what Mufasa and Sarabi were to each other: a married couple. He and Nala made disgusted sounds at the thought of it.

"I can't marry her," Simba told Zazu. "She's my best friend!"

"Yeah, it'd be really weird," Nala added.

"Yeah, forget it," said Simba. To Nala, he said, "We don't have to get married if we don't want to."

"Deal?"

"Deal," Simba declared, and the two cubs licked their paws and slapped them together.

"A king who ignores tradition? The conservative way of life in the Pride Lands?" Zazu remarked while Simba mimicked Zazu's words in a mocking way behind him. "Well, I'm sorry to burst your bubble, but you two turtledoves have no choice. It's a tradition going back generations."

Simba smiled at Nala. "When I'm king, that'll be the first thing to go."

Zazu sniffed. "Not so much when I'm around."

"In that case, you're fired," Simba said with a smirk.

"Hmph!" Zazu huffed. "Nice try, but only the king can do that."

"But he's the future king," Nala reminded Zazu.

"Yeah," Simba said with a smirk, jabbing Zazu's wing. "And that means you gotta do what I tell you to do."

Zazu was now getting irritated, his feathers fluffing out. "Not yet, I don't, you puny puff of prepubescent fuzz! And with an attitude like that, I'm afraid you're shaping up to be a pretty pathetic king!"

Simba smirked. "Not the way I see it. When I'm king, I won't let anyone tell me where to go, what to do, or even who to marry." He spun around on his heels and ran for it, Nala keeping up with him. "There will never be a king like me!"

"Simba!" Zazu squawked behind them. "You can't run from your responsibility!"

"Just watch me!" Simba crowed back. "I'll be a mighty king!"

Zazu suddenly burst into speed and landed in front of the cubs. "This would be a setback for the Pride Lands' royal family," he scolded the prince. "No one will take a king acting like a cub seriously."

"I'm still growing up," Simba argued back. "I'm working on my roar!" He opened his mouth to roar, only for a meow-like sound.

"Oh, bravo," Zazu said with dripping sarcasm, clapping his wings together. "Shall I give you a grand prize for that roar?"

Simba and Nala rolled their eyes. They caught Zazu off guard by running off yet again. "Go blow it out your beak, Zazu!" Simba called over his shoulders. "I just can't wait to be king!"

Zazu was getting fed up with the disrespect he was getting from the prince of the Pride Lands. He flapped his wings and took off after them, like an eagle homing in on a hare.

"That's it! Forget going to the watering hole!" he called down to them. "We're going home right this instant!"

But the cubs didn't pay any attention. They got into the middle of some zebras heading towards the watering hole, managing to lose Zazu in the herd. While Zazu tried finding them among the stripes and hooves, Simba and Nala made their getaway and ran for the watering hole using a shortcut. That included having to be briefly chased by banded mongooses since they used their tunnels as the shortcut.

When Zazu did manage to spot them, Simba and Nala noticed some ostriches heading towards the watering hole as well. The ostriches seemed to recognize Simba as the prince, for two lowered themselves to the ground and let them ride. The cubs had a good time riding faster than the wind, hearing talk among the ostriches. According to one ostrich, her daughter Asha had her egg protected by a meerkat before she hatched. Once they were sure they were away from Zazu, they got off the ostriches' backs, thanked them, and ran off.

They finally reached the watering hole, and it was packed. Animals were either drinking from the water or relaxing in the shallows. Zebra, antelope, giraffes, buffalo, and elephants drank at the water's edge. Rhinos and hippos rolled around in the mud near the shallow end. Birds used the water in the shallow end to take a quick bath. Even the two only crocodiles in this watering hole didn't feel like eating; what mattered to them was resting in the sun.

"Simba! Nala!" Zazu called. He had put on as much speed as he could and flew as fast as he could. "Oh, where are you? Mufasa is going to have my pinfeathers for this! This child is getting wildly out of hand...er, wing!"

Any moment now, and Zazu would soon be upon them. Simba and Nala shared glances; they would have to do something quickly or be caught.

"Hello?" Simba tried to call above the noise. "Can anyone help us?"

Not many animals could hear them, though. The only one who answered was a young hippo, saying something to his parents before wallowing out of the mud. Despite being a calf, he was bigger than the two cubs combined. "Sure. I'd love to help," he said with a smile. "My name's Beshte."

"You see that hornbill over there, Beshte?" Simba asked. "The annoying one with the blue-and-white feathers and the big red beak?"

The hippo calf named Beshte nodded. "Yeah. That's the majordomo, Zazu. My dad's told me all about him." His ears waggled as he continued. "I've got a lot of questions to ask him. Like my dad always says, you learn something new every day."

"Then go ask him all the questions you want," Nala persuaded him. "Play with him. Anything."

Beshte nodded and plodded over to Zazu. The hornbill was still among the crowd, trying to ask if anyone had seen Simba. Simba and Nala watched the young hippo approach Zazu before turning around and running.

"Excuse me, young hippo. Have you seen a lion cub with golden fur and amber eyes?" Zazu was asking Beshte. "And a lighter cub with teal eyes? They're small but cute."

"Yeah, I did see two cubs like that," said Beshte. "But I'm glad to meet you, Zazu. My name's Beshte. I've heard about you and have many questions to ask you."

Zazu nodded frantically. "Ask me only a few. I have two lion cubs to find!"

So Beshte asked away, starting with whether Zazu had any children or his favorite food. He even asked who the best members of the Lion Guard had been. But as the hornbill was done, more baby animals crowded around him, asking their own questions. While Zazu was distracted (along with butterflies swarming around him), the two lion cubs got away, running as far from the watering hole as they could.

They had done it. They had ditched Zazu and were going to the elephant graveyard.

Chapter Text

The two cubs made sure they were far away from the watering hole. Wherever they were, Zazu was sure not to follow them now, and they had Beshte to thank for it. So Simba and Nala took a break to get their breath back.

"All right! We lost him!" Nala panted. She had never done anything this exciting before in her life.

"I know what you're going to say," Simba gloated, his chest puffed out. "I am a genius, right?"

Nala glared indignantly at him. "Hey, genius, it was my idea."

"Yeah, but I pulled it off."

"With me!"

"Oh yeah?"

"Yeah! We wouldn't get this far if it weren't for your future queen," Nala retorted. She had been as shocked as Simba when Zazu said they were betrothed, but the thought of being a queen sounded interesting to her.

Simba snorted and waved a paw dismissively. "Aren't you forgetting something? There's not gonna be a future queen."

Nala's earlier thoughts of marriage vanished. If she married him, she wouldn't want to be queen. "Fine by me," she retorted. "I'd rather marry an aardvark anyway."

"Good luck finding one that'll say yes," Simba said smugly.

Nala knew where this was going. They usually had friendly arguments that led to taunting and then wrestling; this was no different. She decided to teach Simba a little lesson: He was the future king, but he wasn't a king yet. She would remind him of that.

Eyes narrowing, Nala dropped into a crouch. "Good luck getting out of here without a scratch."

"Bring it on," Simba responded, crouching as well.

The two ran at each other, wrestling and trying to pin each other to the ground. Playing was a vital part of a young cub's life. It could teach them social skills or even how to hunt. In the end, Nala managed to pin Simba, who had been going for strength rather than wits.

"Pinned ya." Nala smiled at the indignant look on Simba's face. "You owe me an apology."

"Hey, lemme up!" Simba whined.

Nala got off of him, satisfied. Simba glared at her before a smirk came over his face, finding a way to pay her back.

So once Nala wasn't paying attention, Simba pounced again. The two tumbled and wrestled in their second round, this time rolling down a hill. But once they reached the bottom, Simba expected to pin her this time.

However, Nala rolled up first and pinned him a second time. "Pinned ya again," she boasted while the prince glared at her indignantly.

Just as Simba had to admit defeat, a loud hissing made them look around. A hole in the ground belched out hot, smelly smoke that billowed in the air. Nala got off of Simba, and they began to walk around. They went up a ridge and looked around at the landscape. It was nothing like the Pride Lands, mainly gray and brown with bones here and there. At one point, they jumped onto a fallen tree or a giant bone, looking at the expanse before them.

All around them were bones, lots and lots of bones. If the Pride Lands had lots of grass, this place had many bones. It wasn't just any bones either; these were the bones of elephants.

"This is it. We made it!" Simba whispered to Nala. "The elephant graveyard! It's amazing, isn't it?"

"We could get in big trouble," Nala replied with a snicker.

They looked around them some more, taking it all in. No bird song echoed here, only the sounds of vultures shrieking and steam vents rumbling. They wondered about the owners of these bones, the elephants. Why did all those elephants come here? How did they know when to gather to die? It was pretty sad to think about, after all the live elephants they had seen in their young lives.

Soon, their eyes were fixed on one massive elephant skull, both tusks standing and curving like dead trees. "I wonder if its brains are still in there?" Nala remarked.

"I don't know," replied Simba, padding towards the skull. "Come on. Let's go check it out."

"WRONG!"

Simba jumped high in the air at the angry sound above him. Zazu now flew down in front of them, more furious and scared than he had ever seen the hornbill be.

"The only checking out you'll do is out of here!" he snapped, ignoring Simba's gripes. "We're way beyond the boundary of the Pride Lands!"

At this, Simba chuckled. "Look at that. Banana Beak is scared!"

"It's Mister Banana Beak to you, fuzzy!" Zazu scolded, poking Simba's nose with a wing. "And right now, we are all in genuine danger!"

"Danger? Ha!" Simba scoffed, walking over to near the bone and jumping on its face. "I walk on the wild side. I laugh in the face of danger." Then he turned to the skull and laughed into its eye sockets. "HA HA HA!"

His laugh echoed through the skull, ringing Simba's ears. Nala's ears flattened while she frowned at the loud echoing sound.

"Enough!" Zazu hissed. "You've proven how brave and utterly reckless you are! We're going home this instant!"

But Simba followed it up with another "HA HA HA!" towards the cavity in the skull. Yet when sinister cackles reached his ears, Simba felt a prickle of fear on his fur. He immediately ran over to Nala and Zazu, fur bristling and heart racing.

And then the hyenas arrived. Two male hyenas with mottled brown coats, brown muzzles, and sharp teeth had arrived. They came half-slithering from the eye sockets of the skull like snakes and climbing down the tusks like leopards.

"Well, look at this," the stronger male hyena smirked. His face was scarred, and part of his right ear was missing. "We weren't expecting guests today. Would you two cubs like to stay for dinner?"

"Yeah!" interrupted a goofy-looking hyena, a big grin on his face. "Stay for dinner because you look like a midnight snack."

At this, the first male hyena turned on the second, a scolding look on his muzzle. "Can you just give me a little bit of space, Azizi? We've talked about this before," he snapped. "I come in alone; I'm the lead distraction so everyone can circle. Got it?"

The hyena named Azizi backed away, his long tongue licking his lips. "Okay, okay. Sorry, Kamari. Just trying to help."

Kamari rolled his eyes. "Don't be sorry. Just do it!"

Simba and Nala looked at each other, confused. They knew hyenas weren't the smartest animals, but this Azizi seemed different.

"Okay. But they are staying for dinner, right? That's why you asked them."

"I wasn't asking them actually to stay," Kamari growled.

"But you told them to stay," Azizi argued. "Why're you lying?"

"Because they're our dinner!" Kamari snapped, getting tired of Azizi's stupidity. "Understand?"

"Yeah, I got it. That makes sense," Azizi replied with a grin. "But just to be clear...they're staying, right?"

Kamari, who had smiled when Azizi seemed to get it, now snarled his frustration at him. Simba tried to find a way to sneak away with Nala and Zazu if only Kamari and Azizi moved a little.

"HOLD IT!"

The new voice, a female, echoed in the chamber that the cubs were nearly backed into. Out strolled three more hyenas, the one in the middle the biggest hyena Simba had ever seen. She wasn't as big as Mufasa, of course, only around nearly as tall as Sarabi...but she had a mean look, from the scars on her body to the sneer on her muzzle.

"Well, well, Banzai," growled the female with a grin to her right-hand hyena coming up beside her. "What do we have here?"

"I don't know, Shenzi," the male behind her replied, grinning. "What do you think, Ed?"

The other male behind them didn't speak. He only giggled and cackled, a very insane look on his face.

"Yeah, that's what I was thinkin','" Banzai remarked. "We got us a trio of trespassers!"

"And quite by mistake, too," Zazu chuckled nervously. "It was a simple navigational error. We really must go."

But before he could take off, Shenzi stomped on his tail feathers with her paw. "Whoa, hold on a minute," she said with a toothy grin. "I know you. You're Mufasa's little stooge."

Zazu pulled his tail feathers away from her. "I, Shenzi, am the king's majordomo, in case you've forgotten."

"And that would make you..." Banzai asked, glaring at the cubs.

"The future king!" Simba piped up, trying to put on a brave face.

Shenzi chuckled, and the other hyenas followed suit. Their hideous cackles rang throughout the area and rattled off the bones. When they were finished, Shenzi sneered, "Now this is somethin' I waited for my whole life. What an unexpected treat to meet the king's son...in the flesh."

Simba felt his fur bristle. He knew who Shenzi was; he had heard about her from his parents. She was the current leader of the hyenas, overthrowing her mother to become the leader of her clan. He even heard that she fed her mother's head to her subordinates, but they could be rumors.

"Wait a second, the king?" Kamari asked, getting closer. "King, as in you-know-who?"

"Who rules you-know-where?" Azizi added.

"Yeah, Mufasa. But that big ol' kitty cat doesn't rule me," Shenzi overrode them. "He ain't rulin' no hyenas here. Answer me this, kid," she added to Simba, stepping closer. "Do you know what we do to kings who step outta their kingdom?"

Simba scoffed. "You can't do anything to me! I'm the future king!"

Shenzi stared down at Simba, and Simba wished she would go away. Then she looked around at her clan, cackling, "Ya'll hear that? He's tellin' me what to do! He's got his daddy's spirit in him! I bet all that spirit tastes like chicken." She licked her lips and went on, "What you boys think? Think this a king fit for a meal?"

All the other hyenas laughed as well, once again their hideous laughs ringing in Simba's ears. He was now slowly starting to regret coming to the elephant graveyard.

"They can't do anything to me anyway," Simba grumbled, trying to stay confident.

"They can," replied Zazu. "We are technically on their territory."

"But Zazu, they always sneak on our land," Simba protested. "And you told me they're nothing but slobbery, mangy, stupid poachers."

Zazu chuckled nervously and whispered, "Ix-nay on the upid-stay..."

"WHO YOU CALLIN' UPID-STAY?!" Banzai snarled, getting close to Zazu.

Zazu squawked before facing the leader of the hyena clan. "Shenzi, you can't be thinking of eating the prince!" he pleaded. "The cubs made a mistake, a truly horrible mistake! If you eat these cubs, it will be a declaration of war!"

"Lions and hyenas have been feudin' ever since this world was created. Makes no difference to me," Shenzi drawled, licking her chops. "Now, take it easy. Sun ain't goin' nowhere. We'd love to have you stick around for dinner."

"Yeah! We'll have..." Banzai tried to think of a joke. "...whatever's lion around!"

This caused the other hyenas to laugh, Ed the loudest.

"Don't know when it was the last time I tasted lion cub," Azizi chuckled.

Shenzi even joined in, saying, "Make mine a cub sandwich! Whatcha think?!"

As the hyenas cackled and jeered at one another (Kamari showing his disdain with a nonchalant eye-roll), Simba and Nala cautiously attempted to slip away. Despite being youngsters, the hyenas were relentless in their pursuit of lion prey, while the cubs were determined to evade them at all costs. Zazu carefully guided them through the uproarious pack of hyenas, cautioning them to remain silent as they made their exit.

Just then, Ed started yipping and whining, pointing in the cubs' direction. "What, Ed? What is it?" Shenzi snapped.

"Hey, wait a minute," Banzai spoke up. His eyes spotted where the cubs and bird had been a minute ago. "Did we order this dinner to go?"

"No. Why?" Shenzi asked.

Banzai looked around until he spotted what he hoped to see: the cubs running for it. "'Cause there it goes!"

"Don't just stand there gawkin' into space, fools!" Shenzi snapped, jumping to her paws. "Don't let 'em get away!"

They started to rush after the cubs, only for Zazu to fly down and peck at their heads with his beak, pulling at one of Shenzi's ears as well. However, he didn't get to fly away, for the hyenas pounced on him, knocking him down. Zazu was worried they would try to eat him just as Scar attempted to do a few months back.

However, they picked him up and brought him to a small geyser. It was small enough to fit a meerkat or a bird of his size. Before Zazu could fly away, Banzai grabbed him, chuckling.

"So the little majordomo bird went hippity-hop all the way to the Birdie Boiler," Banzai said, marching Zazu over to the geyser.

"Oh no! Not the Birdie Boiler - " Zazu started to cry out in horror.

It was too late. The hyenas stuffed him into the geyser and waited until it erupted. Zazu was shot up into the sky with a scream, and the hyenas laughed at such a sight. Even the more serious Kamari couldn't help but chuckle.

"HEY!" Simba and Nala had run back to try and rescue Zazu, the former glaring at the hyenas. "Why don't you pick on someone your own size?"

Shenzi snickered before walking over to Simba, towering over him. "Like...you?"

Now realizing again how small they were compared to the hyenas, Simba and Nala turned tail and ran. "Smooth, Simba," he heard Nala tell him as they fled.

But the five hyenas ran after them, scaring them through steam vents and trying to bite at their heels. They climbed up a bone hill, trying to stay out of their reach, only to slip down. They slid down a long backbone with huge ribs blocking their sides. Just as they were sure they were safe, they fell off the backbone and landed on another pile of bones, and the hyenas were again on their tails. The cubs started to scramble up the bone hill as fast as they could, hearts pounding with terror.

All the while, Simba felt a combination of shame and fright in his belly. He hadn't meant to get them into this mess and did not plan on being a hyena's dinner. Those thoughts alone made him scramble to the top of the hill as best as he could.

Suddenly, a cry sounded out from behind Simba. Nala was sliding down the hill, right towards the hyenas' jaws. Simba leaped down the bone hill in several bounds and, when Shenzi was almost upon Nala, slashed her hard across the face with his claws. They fled while Shenzi's sneer turned into a furious snarl, the claw marks on her muzzle starting to bleed. That prince would taste extra good once she caught him for giving her these scars.

The hyenas gave chase again, and the cubs ended up running into a cave. They saw what they thought was an opening in the cave roof and climbed up towards it. But the bones beneath them gave way, and they fell to the cave floor with a thud. Now, they were trapped by all five hyenas, flanked by the wall behind them and the wall of fur and teeth in front of them.

"Here, kitty-kitty-kitty," Banzai said with a chuckle. Behind him, more hyenas than Simba could count had started clambering out of their dens to help surround the cubs.

Simba looked around at Nala, whose eyes were wide with pure fright, which frightened him, too. He realized that this whole adventure was all his fault. Then he decided that since he had gotten himself and Nala in this mess, he would get them out—or at least die trying.

So Simba dug his claws into the rocky floor and tried to roar. But all that came out was a mix of a little growl and a mewl. The hyenas took one look at him and then at each other before laughing altogether.

"Look at that!" Kamari jeered. "The future king indeed!"

"I'm scared now," Azizi joined in, giggling like crazy. "Like...really REALLY scared!"

"That the best you got?" Shenzi scoffed. "Come on, prince. Do it again. I dare ya."

Simba dug in deep again and growled louder.

Just then, a roar echoed in the elephant graveyard, drowning out Simba's growl, and the hyenas spun to confront the intruder. Mufasa was charging through the crowd, roaring, snarling, and swiping his claws at them. Hyenas leaped at him to slow him down, and the Lion King countered with his teeth and claws.

Shenzi was the one fighting the most. The clan leader pounced on Mufasa's back, trying to take a bite out of him, but Mufasa bucked her off. Once she was on the ground, the lion swiped his massive paw at her, his claws slashing at her foreleg. Shenzi snarled and backed away, licking the new wound on her leg. The other hyenas started to snarl at this, only for Mufasa to roar, "SILENCE!" and they fell quiet again.

"If you ever come near my son again..." Mufasa snarled.

Shenzi scoffed. "Yeah, I get it," she hissed through gritted teeth, licking at her wound. "I won't touch him again."

Mufasa nodded, snorting, "You've been warned, Shenzi. Now, return to your den."

With a sneer, Shenzi heaved herself to her paws and started to walk away, Kamari quickly loping over to her side. Near the two of them, Azizi pretended to gasp with surprise. "Oh, that was his son? Hey, did you know that, Banzai?"

"Nah, I didn't know," Banzai lied. "You, Azizi?"

"No, of course not!" yelped Azizi.

Then they looked at Ed to help them out. "Ed?" they both prompted him.

Ed nodded his head, which only caused Mufasa to roar louder, and the cave appeared to shake from his roar.

Shenzi snarled as she commanded her hyenas to depart, shooting the lions a disdainful look before striding away. With the hyenas slinking into the depths of the elephant graveyard one by one, Zazu swooped over to Mufasa, flashing a grin and nodding. However, Mufasa's response was a fierce glare, causing Zazu's smile to evaporate.

"Is this how you're looking after my son?" Mufasa growled at the hornbill. "By allowing him and Nala to wander into peril?"

Zazu cringed, flustered, and stammered, "Sire, it wasn't my fault. The cubs tricked me and—"

"I don't want to hear excuses," Mufasa snapped, halting Zazu with a raised paw. "As an adult, you should have known better than to let them deceive you."

Shame washed over Zazu as he lowered his head, and Simba felt a pang of guilt. Mufasa's anger blazed like the scorching sun, and Simba regretted getting Zazu into trouble and disobeying the adults' instructions.

"Dad, it wasn't Zazu's fault," Simba protested. "I'm the one who—"

"I warned you not to venture into these lands," Mufasa cut in with an unyielding stare, silencing him. "You deliberately disobeyed me."

"Dad...I'm sorry—" Simba attempted to apologize.

Mufasa did not acknowledge the apology. "Let's go home," he rumbled, striding ahead of the cubs.

Zazu soared ahead after Mufasa, casting the cubs a sympathetic look. Simba kept his head down, ashamed and scared at the same time. A nudge from Nala made him look up as she whispered, "I thought you were pretty brave. Thanks for saving me."

Simba couldn't muster a smile. He didn't deserve the praise she had given him. He had nearly gotten them killed, but he was also afraid of what his father would do. And that frightened him more than the hyenas did.

Meanwhile, not far from the departing group, Scar observed from inside an elephant's skull. He sank his claws into the eye socket with a scowl, his gaze fixed on Mufasa, his insolent nephew, and Nala walking away unharmed. His had come to check if the hyenas had completed their task, only to witness this scene. He realized he would have to confront them later and demand an explanation for their failure.

Chapter Text

When the lions and Zazu returned to the Pride Lands, sunset had arrived. The setting sun's light bathed the savannah in golden, orange, and red colors. Many of the day's animals would start retiring for the night while the nocturnal animals began their night shift. Thus, sunset was usually one of Simba's favorite parts of the day.

But not today. Mufasa marched ahead of the cubs, still furious with his son and majordomo; his anger hadn't left since they left the elephant graveyard. The cubs trailed behind, Simba still ashamed of himself and Nala unsure how to comfort him. Zazu flew ahead, alternating between pity for the cubs and nervousness about his king's anger.

Simba gazed up at the clear blue sky, feeling a weight of guilt in his heart. "Hey Zazu?" he called up to the hornbill.

Zazu descended, his wings casting shadows on the golden savannah as he landed beside Simba. "Yes, Simba?"

"I'm sorry for being rude to you at the watering hole," Simba confessed quietly. "And for leaving you behind."

Zazu's eyes softened, touched by the young lion's sincere apology. "I forgive you, Simba. You're not the first young cub to act this way, and I'm certain you won't be the last. However, there's someone else you should seek forgiveness from. You've upset your father. But fret not, young prince," Zazu reassured, observing the heavy burden on Simba's shoulders. "Your father's heart is kind. He is slow to anger and quick to love. If your apology is genuine, he will surely forgive you."

Simba wanted to apologize and was indeed very sorry, but how could he? He had broken his father's trust and even his promise to his uncle not to go to the elephant graveyard.

"Zazu!" Mufasa called almost immediately.

As fast as he could, Zazu flew over until he landed in front of Mufasa. "Yes, Sire?" he asked meekly.

"Take Nala home," commanded Mufasa. He was not looking at Zazu or the cubs; instead, he was looking opposite the setting sun. "I have to teach my son a lesson."

Hearing this, Simba crouched low in the grass until he was barely visible.

Then Zazu said something that surprised Simba. "Don't be too hard on him," he told the king. "He apologized to me for causing trouble. Why, I remember a cub - a certain headstrong cub - who was always getting into scrapes. Yet he achieved some prominence, did he not?"

Mufasa nodded. He would be a hypocrite to deny that he had done anything wrong as a cub. For the first time since leaving the elephant graveyard, some of his anger faded away, though it still lingered like a burn.

"You know me too well, Zazu. And I apologize for being rough with you earlier. You did your best with the cubs, and I couldn't ask for more from you." A slightly relieved Zazu nodded, showing that all was well between them. "But you do understand that discipline is important in raising a child. If I don't discipline him, he might not become a good king."

Zazu nodded, not wishing to argue anymore. He flew over to where the cubs stood as Simba kept thinking of the punishment his father would give him. He had also heard of the discipline part and winced. Was Mufasa going to beat him?

"Come, Nala," Zazu told the female cub before turning a sympathetic glance to the prince. "Simba...good luck."

Simba could only look on helplessly as Nala started leaving for Pride Rock without him. Zazu took flight and flew ahead of Nala, watching for any danger coming their way. Nala glanced back at him over her shoulder once more before running after Zazu.

"Simba!" Mufasa called from up ahead.

Simba winced and started to slink over to Mufasa. He didn't bother deliberately slowing down to stall his father, deciding to get it over with. As he walked, though, he stumbled across something and looked down.

It was one of Mufasa's pawprints, a huge print that could fit a newly hatched egret. The thought of following in his father's path made Simba's head swim with shame and confusion. How could he follow in his pawprints if he had messed up like he had done today? With a sigh, Simba walked on until he sat beside Mufasa, daring to take a look upward.

For a while, Mufasa said nothing, closing his eyes and thinking. Then, at last, he opened his eyes and stared down at Simba with a stern face. "Simba, I am very disappointed in you."

"I know," Simba mewed sadly.

"You could have been killed," Mufasa went on, his voice rising in some emotion. "What you have done would have provoked war between our pride and the hyenas. You deliberately disobeyed me, and what's worse, you put Nala in danger!"

Simba began to sniffle and cry, knowing Mufasa was right. He had put Nala in danger and nearly gotten her and himself killed, all to prove that he was mighty in his own right. He hadn't meant for that or to endanger the pride.

"I was just trying to be brave like you," he whimpered. "I wanna be like you, Dad."

Mufasa sighed and thought for a moment. While he did indeed feel that he had to discipline his son, he knew that Simba meant it when he was sorry. He was a lion that would slowly become angry, yet he was swift to love. In the meantime, Simba was scared that Mufasa would never want to speak to him again. For a moment, he wanted to beg Mufasa to say anything, just one word.

"I'm only brave when I have to be, when I have no other choice," Mufasa told his son, his voice having gotten calmer. "Simba, being brave doesn't mean you go looking for trouble."

"But you're not scared of anything," Simba said in surprise, rubbing the tears from his face.

Mufasa blinked away the sadness from his eyes. "I was today."

Simba was amazed. He had never known that kings could get scared. "You were?"

"Yes," said Mufasa, lowering himself to look at his son directly. "I thought I might lose you."

Simba nodded, understanding now. The bad feeling he had gotten in his heart and belly was now fading away. Mufasa wasn't angry with him anymore. Things were going to be okay now.

"I guess even kings get scared, huh?" Simba asked.

"Mm-hmm," his father replied, nodding. "More than you could ever know."

With a smirk, Simba leaned in. "But you know what?"

Mufasa smiled back. "What?"

"I think those hyenas were even scareder," Simba said with a snicker.

"That's because nobody messes with your dad!" Mufasa said, laughing and reaching over to him. "Come here, you!"

With a playful growl, he grabbed Simba and pulled him into a headlock, ruffling his head fur. Simba pretended to growl and struggle, laughing and reaching up to grab his mane. Mufasa jumped away, laughing as the two lions raced through the grass, lighting fireflies on the savannah grass. When Simba finally caught up, he pounced and grabbed a hold of Mufasa's ear with his teeth.

Finally, they stopped playing, panting from their exercise. Mufasa lay down in the grass, paws tucked under him. Simba rested on his mane, crawling up to look down at his father's face. All negative feelings he had felt earlier were gone.

"Dad?" he asked, which earned a good-natured grunt from Mufasa. "We're pals, right?"

Mufasa chuckled. "Right."

"And we'll always be together, right?" Simba pressed on.

Mufasa raised his head, causing Simba to slide onto his broad shoulders. He frowned, not in anger but in deep thought. How to break it to him but be gentle at the same time?

"Simba," he said finally, "let me tell you something my father told me. Look at the stars." He lifted his head to the starry night sky, and Simba did the same. "The great kings of the past look down on us from those stars."

Simba rolled around until he rested in between Mufasa's forepaws. Above them, the starry sky expanded across the sky like falling snow, the moon shining brightly upon them as well. "Really?"

Mufasa nodded. "Yes. So whenever you feel alone, remember that those kings will always be there to guide you. And so will I." Then he looked down at Simba and said with a small, sad smile, "They live in you, Simba, and they live in me as well. They're watching over everything we see. In every creature, in every star, and in your reflection."

"That sounds pretty cool," Simba remarked and flicked his tail. "Where'd you get that from?"

"It was part of a song my mother taught me and your uncle Scar when we were cubs," said Mufasa, looking back to the night sky. "There are two variations of that song to show that even those who are gone will always be with us."

There was indeed a sad tone in Mufasa's voice. It almost made Simba sad that he didn't know something that his father did.

Tilting his head back and forth, Simba tried to see any starry lions leaping through the sky. "But I can't see them, Dad," he murmured.

"Keep looking, son," Mufasa rumbled with a smile. "Keep looking. They're always there."

So, father and son watched the stars together. Simba nestled close to Mufasa's mane. He trusted his father, but more importantly, he loved him. All that mattered now was that they were under the stars, watching them together, and they would be together forever.

...

Sarabi anxiously paced back and forth near the cave at Pride Rock, her worry for Simba growing by the minute. Nala and Zazu had returned ahead of Simba, but they were tight-lipped about his whereabouts. Despite Zazu's assurance that Mufasa was having a talk with their son, Sarabi's maternal instincts had her on edge.

Finally, she spotted two silhouettes approaching, one larger and one smaller, and relief washed over her. Mufasa was leading Simba back home, both looking weary but content. Descending the rocky path, Sarabi hurried to meet them, her heart swelling with joy at their safe return.

"I'm glad you brought your father back home," Sarabi greeted Simba, giving him a gentle lick before giving her mate a teasing look. "It's way past his bedtime as well as yours."

Mufasa grinned. "We've had a little adventure today, that's all."

Sarabi perked up with interest. "Oh really? Would you like to tell me about it, Simba?"

At first, Simba felt his heart race and his paws freeze to the ground. Mufasa had been angry with him before he had become calm. Would his mother be the same way, too? And would Mufasa tell Sarabi what happened today?

Then he saw Mufasa's look as he looked around. It was a small smile, a reassurance to Simba that things would be all right. With a slight nod, Mufasa turned back to answer Sarabi. "Let's just say Simba was claiming more territory for the Pride Lands," he rumbled.

"Yeah!" Simba chirped, but he broke off with a yawn and a stretch. "Boy, am I sleepy!"

His parents chuckled before Mufasa sidled up to Sarabi. "I'll tell you more about it tomorrow morning," he whispered to his mate. "Just before I leave for the dawn patrol."

Sarabi nodded, and she turned her attention to Simba. "Come along to bed, dear," she called.

Simba nodded and scampered over to his mother. When they entered the cave, they noticed the lionesses had cleared a path to their resting spot. They reached their sleeping spot, where Sarabi flopped onto her side and Simba nestled close to her body.

"Good night, Simba," Mufasa told his son, giving him a gentle lick on the head.

"'Night, Dad," Simba mewed.

But it was when his father was walking that Simba remembered something. He quickly got up and raced towards Mufasa, leaving Sarabi watching them with half-tired yet gentle eyes. As Mufasa was about to ask what was wrong, Simba reached up to rub against his mane.

"Love ya, Dad," he said as he looked up at Mufasa.

Mufasa leaned down with a smile and nuzzled him as well. "Love you too, son."

Chapter Text

In the desolate elephant graveyard, Shenzi seethed with rage. She couldn't believe that Mufasa had the audacity to trespass on her territory just to save two lion cubs that had no business being there in the first place. Those cubs were fair game, and she had every right to make a meal out of them for crossing into her domain. Yet, it was she who ended up injured while Mufasa and the cubs strolled back unscathed to the Pride Lands. The injustice boiled within her, making her want to tear her own fur in frustration.

As she tended to her wound, she deliberated with Kamari and Azizi on their next course of action. Although Banzai and Ed were her closest allies, she leaned on Kamari and Azizi to execute their plans. Leaving them to bicker amongst themselves, she listened from a perch above. Their expansive den in the heart of the elephant graveyard provided ample space for a multitude of hyenas, further emphasizing their dominance in the territory.

Regarding rest from their battle, Kamari walked over to sit closer to the wall. "Next time Mufasa comes here, I'll teach him a lesson he's never gonna forget," he snapped, licking at a wound.

"Come on, Kamari, what can you teach him?" Azizi asked brightly. "He knows a lot of stuff. He's a wise king."

Kamari rolled his eyes and sighed. "I wasn't gonna teach him anything, dummy," he retorted. "Now go away and give me some space."

Still unable to understand Kamari's words, Azizi pressed on. "We can teach him how to chase down the sick and injured," he suggested, smiling. "Or we can teach him about how we raise our cubs."

"What I meant was," Kamari growled, trying not to lose patience with Azizi, "Mufasa had no business to come prancing in and beating us up on our own land. Those lion cubs wandered into our territory, giving us the right to eat them. Mufasa's gonna pay for this."

"Okay, I get it now," said Azizi, sitting beside Kamari. "Just a question, though: what'll we make him pay with? A wildebeest? I can go for some wildebeest. Can we have some wildebeest?"

Kamari slapped his own forehead with a paw, grumbling to himself. He snapped while walking away, "Now I know you're doing this intentionally. I need my personal space. Lay anywhere in here, but not near me."

Azizi also got up and walked...right after Kamari and sat beside him again. With an anguished growl, Kamari muttered something about Azizi being spiteful this time.

Not too far away, Banzai was grumbling a lot louder than Kamari. "Man, that lousy Mufasa!" he snarled. "I won't be sittin' for a week!"

He tried scooting again, but it didn't work. Ed just giggled at the claw marks on his friend's rear.

"It's not funny, Ed," snapped Banzai.

Ed clamped his paws over his mouth as if to stop himself from laughing. But he couldn't hold it anymore and let loose a loud cackle.

"Hey, shut up!" Banzai growled.

But Ed kept laughing. Banzai pounced on Ed with a snarl, and the two were wrestling on the cave floor. Kamari glanced up from lying down, giving them a scolding glare, while Azizi tried sidling up to him again.

Shenzi rolled her eyes. She appreciated having Banzai and Ed around since they were all pups together. But it started to get annoying when they fought each other for stupid reasons. She was close to them, yet they were silly, while Kamari and Azizi weren't as close but much more competent.

"Will you two knock it off?!" Shenzi snapped at the two males.

The two broke away from their fight, leaving Ed to start gnawing on his own leg. "He started it!" Banzai whined, pointing at Ed.

Shenzi climbed down from the rock, Kamari and Azizi at her heels. "Look at you guys! No wonder we're danglin' at the bottom of the food chain."

"Man, I hate dangling,'" griped Banzai while drooling.

"You know, if it weren't for those high and mighty lions, we'd be runnin' the joint," Shenzi continued.

Banzai shook his head as if he had gotten wet. "Man, I hate lions!"

"They're so pushy..." Shenzi started.

"...and hairy..." added Banzai.

"...and stinky..." giggled Azizi.

"And boy, are they UUUUUUGLY!" all three said, ending with insane laughter.

But suddenly, a new voice echoed in the cave. "Surely, we lions are not all that bad?" the voice said, smooth yet slick.

The hyenas spun around. From the frame that filled their cave entrance, they initially thought that Mufasa had returned. But this lion was skinnier and more frail than the more powerful Mufasa. When the lion stepped in, he indeed had darker fur and a black mane, and one did not simply forget the scar over his left eye. In his mouth, he held the dismembered leg of a zebra.

Banzai, Ed, and Azizi looked at the zebra leg with grins and lolling tongues, but Shenzi was on high alert, Kamari by her side. Even though she and Scar were civil towards each other, their alliance was on shaky ground. Banzai, Ed, and Azizi seemed to like Scar the most, but Shenzi herself and Kamari were wary around the king's brother. If he tried anything against the hyenas, he would become the snack that Prince Simba should have been.

"I thought it was somebody important," Shenzi snarked.

"Yeah, like Mufasa," said Banzai, his voice dripping with dislike for the king.

"I see," muttered Scar.

"Tell me about it," said Shenzi. "I hear that name, and I shudder."

With a grin, Banzai exclaimed, "Mufasa!"

This made Shenzi shiver, her dark fur ruffling. "Do it again," she told Banzai with a grin.

"Mufasa, Mufasa, Mufasa!" Banzai chanted some more. "Mufasa, Mufasa, Mufasa!"

Shenzi rolled down on the ground, yelping and giggling, "It tingles me!" Azizi and Ed leaned against each other, laughing loudly as if they had heard the funniest joke ever.

While this went on, Scar shook his head. He was allied with some of the hyenas here but didn't like their antics. They were sometimes no better than a lion cub. And Shenzi, a leader herself, could easily be fooled into acting so immature. "I'm surrounded by idiots," he muttered.

"You and me," Kamari agreed, having heard Scar.

"Not you, Scar," Banzai piped up as he, Shenzi, and Azizi stopped laughing. "You're our buddy, our pal."

"You're one of us," Azizi said with a big goofy grin. "You're more hyena than we are!"

Somehow, that sounded like an insult to Scar. "Charmed," he drawled.

"That's why I like him," Azizi told Banzai and Ed. "He's not a king, but he's got our necks—or is that backs?"

Banzai snickered. "Got that right, Azizi. Hey, Scar!" he barked to the lion in question. "You got anything to eat, ol' buddy, ol' pal?"

Scar merely glanced down at the meat, which the hyenas looked at like they were starving dogs. After the paltry attempt at the cubs' lives, he was surprised that they were surprised that they were getting anything to eat.

"Quite frankly, I don't think you five deserve this," Scar told the hyenas, picking up the meat. "You have stripped your own land dry with your greedy gullets. How do you explain living in this countryside of bones? Yet I practically gift-wrapped those two cubs for you, and you couldn't even dispose of them."

"We can eat you instead," Kamari replied, giving Scar a contemptuous scowl. "Seriously, this can be the first time we've ever tasted a lion."

Azizi licked his lips, drooling. "Yeah. Some lion tenders sound good right about now."

Scar rolled his eyes, dropped the meat before them, and climbed onto a nearby rock to watch them eat. Immediately, the hyenas were on the zebra leg, eating all they could. Gulps, chewing, and growls echoed in the cave as they devoured the zebra meat, briefly nipping each other to get the choice cuts.

"You know," Shenzi said, her mouth full, "it's not like they were alone, Scar."

"Yeah, what're we supposed to do?" Banzai added, swallowing his mouthful of zebra meat. "Kill Mufasa?"

Scar grinned. "Precisely."

The five hyenas shared glances before looking back at Scar. Was he being serious?

"Look, I'll make it simple for you," said Scar, climbing down the rock towards the hyenas. "I know how tiresome living in this graveyard can be. Why eat one meal when you can have plenty of meals for the rest of your life?"

Again, the hyenas shared confused glances. Shenzi stepped out from around the stripped zebra bone until she stood face-to-face with Scar. "Yeah? What can you offer us, huh?"

"I would like to make you an offer you should not refuse. I know where your hunger will be satiated," said Scar. "A land where everything the light touches is yours for the taking. That's why I want you to be prepared."

The hyenas shared glances, and then they laughed. Shenzi almost joined them. Scar was no better than his brother, waltzing into the place as if he owned it and lording his superiority over them. However, a chance to get a lot of food seemed too good to be true... in fact, it was a little too good to be true.

"Are you for real?" Shenzi snapped. "The Pride Lands ain't yours to give away for free."

Kamari stood beside Shenzi, nodding. "Yeah, Mufasa controls those hunting grounds. That's why we aren't allowed there now, and he chases us off."

"And that's why we're waiting for the death of the king," Scar replied. "Once he dies, I will allow you to cross over freely into the Pride Lands unchallenged."

"Why? Is he sick?" Azizi asked curiously.

Scar scoffed. Sometimes, these hyenas were stupid. "No, fool, we're going to kill him."

"Great idea," Shenzi piped up with a sarcastic snicker. "Who needs a king?"

Together, Banzai, Ed, and Azizi started dancing in a circle. "No king, no king, la la la la la la!" they sang while Kamari rolled his eyes.

"Idiots!" Scar roared. "There will be a king! I will be king!"

Before anyone could say anything else, Shenzi got serious again. "Get real, Scar," she growled. "Lions and hyenas have been fightin' ever since the dawn of time. They steal each other's kills and kill each other's cubs. There's no way you'd fight on our side!"

Scar shrugged, not wanting to argue. "It is true. However, the truth is that my kind hates your kind even more. They are too prejudiced to look beyond their own noses and care for the other predators that share their lands," he preached. "But where others may describe greed as a sin, I see it as a virtue. I call it ambition. Mufasa has always shown too much restraint when it comes to hunting. Stick with me; you will never go hungry again when I become king. The mighty will claim what is rightfully theirs and take whatever they want. Because a hyena's belly is never full."

Shenzi looked away from Scar and glanced at her clan. What Scar was saying did sound like a dream come true—all the food they could eat, with no one to stop them. It sounded like paradise to the hyenas.

But then again, it sounded crazy. Mufasa was a brute to their kind, but he wasn't stupid. While the hyenas had numbers on their side, Mufasa had the lionesses' skill and strength. It didn't matter if the hyenas outnumbered the lions; they were outmatched.

"How do you think that'll work?" she asked. "Mufasa is far too powerful to challenge."

Kamari nodded. "Yeah. He thrashed us good when he rescued those cubs." He pawed at his badly torn ear. "I think I'm still feeling it."

"Speaking of cubs, my brother has a weakness that he has never had before," Scar pressed on, ignoring the hyenas' antics. "It is a weakness that clouds his judgment."

"Simba?" Shenzi guessed. She used a paw to rub over the claw marks a certain cub had made on her muzzle. "You mean that spunky prince kid who scratched me?"

Scar nodded. "Indeed. We can be rid of him, too."

Shenzi slowly nodded, her eyes meeting Scar's. Scar's idea didn't sound that bad after all. If she and her clan helped off Mufasa and Simba, she could ensure Scar would keep his end of the bargain. They would never starve again.

"All right," she declared, holding her head up. "We're in. What do you want us to do?"

"Be prepared for the chance of a lifetime," Scar replied, climbing to the top of the tallest rock. "Be prepared for the coup of the century, for the murkiest scam. And prepare for this revolution, where we change the future of the Pride Lands forever." The hyenas nodded together, now at full attention. "Now...are your teeth and ambitions bared?"

All five hyenas nodded and bared their teeth. Out of the shadows loomed even more hyenas, even more than the ones that chased the cubs, baring their teeth as well. They were indeed enough to outnumber the lionesses at Pride Rock.

Scar smiled, his dreams of becoming king closer than ever before. "Good. Because my teeth and ambitions are bared as well." With a roar that echoed in the cave, he bellowed, "Be prepared!"

Chapter Text

The next morning, Simba woke up, not wholly bright-eyed and bushy-tailed. He and Mufasa had stayed out later than usual, returning for a late meal and a quick bath before bed. So when Simba woke up, he was still trying to rub the sleep out of his eyes.

Breakfast was served: a fresh meal of Cape buffalo. Those massive beasts were a challenge to take down; even the most skilled hunters in the pride could easily get gored or trampled by a buffalo. As he ate from the hind leg of the buffalo, he caught snippets of the lionesses talking to each other.

"That was quite the adventure Simba and Nala had yesterday," Nala's mother, Sarafina, remarked as the lionesses feasted on the front end of the buffalo. "Can you imagine straying so far into hyena territory?"

Simba felt a flush of embarrassment beneath his fur. It seemed like Mufasa must have filled Sarabi in on their son's escapade, and now the entire pride knew about it. He wished they weren't all so nosy.

A younger lioness, her ear nicked from the buffalo's horns, scoffed. "In my opinion, Simba wasn't punished enough," she snapped. "I mean, he even endangered your daughter. What kind of father is Mufasa for not disciplining him properly?"

"Certainly not the way you'd do it, Zira," Sarafina shot back, her tone now stern. "From what I've heard, Simba was truly sorry, and he and Nala are safe and sound. That's what matters most."

"What matters more is that he's been a troublemaker," Zira replied, casting a scornful look in Simba's direction. "For once, I wouldn't blame Mufasa for still being angry with him."

The sense of joy Simba had felt from the previous night evaporated, replaced by worry. He turned it all over in his head, tuning out the rest of Sarafina's conversation with Zira. What if Zira was right? Was Mufasa still upset with him for everything that had happened? He had already apologized to both Mufasa and Nala, but what if it wasn't enough? His appetite vanished, and he slipped away unnoticed by Sarafina and Zira.

Once he climbed to the bottom of Pride Rock, Simba went to find Mufasa to spend more time with him and perhaps apologize again. Unfortunately, he heard from Zazu that Mufasa had already set off before breakfast to settle a dispute between two banded mongoose families and patrol his kingdom's borders. So he decided to rest on the rocks below to avoid the judgmental stares from the other lionesses.

As he prepared to lie down, he heard a familiar voice drawl, "Tough luck this morning, eh?"

Simba glanced up to see his uncle gazing down at him from within his cave, green eyes unreadable. Scar had come to Simba not to comfort him but to implement his plan.

"Dad was upset with me last night," replied Simba. Still is, he thought with a shudder, remembering what Zira had said. He was glad he and Mufasa spent a little father-son moment together, but the good feeling was gone thanks to hearing Sarafina and Zira talking. He hoped to find the perfect way to make amends for what he had done.

"I think I have the perfect idea," Scar replied. "Whatever he's mad at you about, it's a gift that will make him forget it ever happened."

Simba tilted his head and leaped down from the rock. "But he's the king. What can I give him?"

"Your roar," said Scar, without hesitation. "Why don't you come with me? I'll show you what I mean."

It did sound exciting for Simba. "But I gotta ask permission from Mom first," he reminded his uncle. "I can't go out on my own."

Scar rolled his eyes, but he covered it up with a nod. "Oh, very well. Do hurry up, though. The day's not getting any younger, you know."

He waited by his den while Simba ran off to ask his mother if he could leave. A moment or two passed before he came racing back. She had permitted him after all, and uncle and nephew headed off towards the savannah of the Pride Lands.

The two walked side-by-side, taking in the nature around them. Simba was eager to talk to other animals and tell them how he would spend the day with his uncle. He even wanted to see if Beshte, the young hippo he and Nala met the day before, would play. Scar, meanwhile, did not want to stop to take it all in and told him so. The longer Simba got distracted by the things around him, the less time he would have for his plan.

Soon, they arrived at a gorge, its steep walls reaching the blue sky. There wasn't much shade anywhere, but at least the lizards and snakes would find cracks in the gorge walls to rest in.

Scar walked up to a rock with a tree overhanging ahead. "Now you wait here, on this rock," he instructed Simba. "If you give your father enough of a good gift, he may have a marvelous surprise for you."

Simba got excited right away. Like lots of other cubs, he liked surprises. "What is it?" he asked, scrambling up the rock.

"If I told you, it wouldn't be a surprise, wouldn't it?"

"But if you tell me, I'll still act surprised."

Scar chuckled. "Oh-ho, you are such a naughty boy!"

"Come on, Uncle Scar," Simba pleaded.

"No, no, no, no, no," Scar said repeatedly. "This is just for you and your daddy. You know, a sort of...father-son...thing." A few awkward seconds passed before he spoke again. "Well! I'd better go get him."

He started to leave, and Simba tried following him. "I can go with you, " he chirped.

"NO!" Scar snapped, but he quickly regained his composure by chuckling. "Hehe...no. Just stay on this rock. You wouldn't want to end up in another mess like you did with the hyenas."

Simba's ears drooped. He had hoped that the news wouldn't spread, but news in the Pride Lands spread as quickly as wildfire. "You know about that?"

"Simba, Simba," Scar cooed, "everybody knows about that."

"Really?"

"Oh, yes. Lucky Daddy was there to save you, eh?" Scar replied with a smile. "Oh, and just between us, you might want to work on your little roar."

Ears perked, Simba sat straight up. "My roar?"

"Yes. Your father told me about how you tried to roar to scare the hyenas away. I have said that I found a way for you to do it better, and perhaps this gorge can help." Scar looked around the walls, looking wistful. "Look around you, Simba. This gorge is where all lions come to find their roar."

Simba looked around the gorge in awe. "All lions...even my dad?"

"Even your father," replied Scar. "Your grandfather, King Ahadi, had taken Mufasa and me here to test our roars. Your father refused to leave until his roar could be heard above the rim."

"Up there?" Simba asked, following his uncle's gaze.

Scar nodded. "Yes. That's when you know you've found it. With a little practice, you'll never be called a cub again."

Simba frowned at the mention of being called a cub...even if that was true. As if noticing his frown, Scar smirked and said, "Buck up, lad. Even as a cub, I was teased for not roaring loud, even though I led the Lion Guard as the Fiercest. But your father told me that I would get there eventually, even if our father thought otherwise. And lo and behold, I eventually got my roar to reach the rim."

Simba had heard of Scar leading the Lion Guard, a band of five lions that helped the royal family defend the Pride Lands. They were brave, fierce, strong, fast, and keen of sight. The leader was even blessed with a power called the Roar of the Elders, which Simba guessed was how Scar could roar early in his cubhood. Even if Simba was not to be in the Guard since he had no siblings, he wanted to be all five of those, just like his father.

And to demonstrate his earlier point, Scar lifted his head and let out a roar. It wasn't as impressive as Mufasa's roar, but it did reach the rim of the gorge, just as he and Mufasa had done as cubs.

That was when Simba realized that his uncle was right. This was the perfect gift for Mufasa. He would be proud of him if Simba told his father that he learned his lesson and found his roar.

"I can do it," Simba boasted confidentially. "Watch this!"

He opened his mouth to roar, but all that came out was a mew. It barely echoed on the canyon walls, and Simba flattened his ears in disappointment.

"You'll get there, Simba. It just takes time and practice," said Scar, patting Simba on the shoulder. He stepped away from the rock and started padding away. "I'll get your surprise ready, and then I'll come to check on your progress."

Simba nodded. "Dad will be so proud of me, huh?"

Scar smirked and replied, "Oh yes, he will be. It's a gift he'll never forget."

He had just walked several feet away when Simba had another question. "Hey, Uncle Scar! Will I like the surprise?"

"Simba, it's to die for," Scar said before leaving.

As he watched Scar, Simba sat back down on the rock, eager to wait for Mufasa's surprise. He made sure to sit under the shade of a tree; as the dry season was slowly approaching, finding the best shade was more important than ever.

Not far away, the five hyenas watched the wildebeests from a rock. The massive herd was going to their grazing grounds above the gorge, stopping to graze and care for their babies. Scar had told them where the wildebeest migrated, and they could even snag a dead wildebeest for their hard work.

All of a sudden, Banzai's stomach growled. Shenzi turned to him, snapping, "Shut up, will ya?"

"I can't help it. I'm starving!" Banzai growled. "I gotta have a wildebeest!"

"No. Stay put," retorted Shenzi. "Now shut up and wait."

"Can't I pick off the little sick ones?" Banzai pleaded.

But Shenzi was not going to have any of it. She rounded on Banzai, giving him an icy glare. "No. We'll wait for the signal from Scar."

"I'm with Banzai on this one, Shenzi," Azizi whimpered. "Can we eat the baby wildebeest? I'm hungry."

Kamari sighed. "You're just going to have to wait. I'm hungry too, but we have a job first."

Shenzi didn't speak as her subordinates talked. She spotted Ed looking upwards to a ledge just above the wildebeest, doing the same with her eyes narrowed. On that ledge, Scar had made his appearance. When he spotted the hyenas, he gave a solemn nod before leaving.

"There he is," Shenzi announced to her fellow hyenas. "Let's go."

So she and her fellow hyenas slunk through the grass towards the wildebeest herd. They split off into different directions to corral the herd together once the plan went off. As a wildebeest and her calf came grazing together, Kamari sprang at them with a snarl, teeth bared. The mother and her calf cried out, and the herd looked up while the hyenas flanked them from behind and to the sides. With a bellow of fear, they began to run right for the gorge. The hyenas chased them and snapped at their heels, Shenzi nearly giving one a broken leg with her powerful jaws.

They watched the wildebeests stampede into the gorge from a higher ledge. If they were successful, Scar would claim his throne, and the hyena clan would receive their free meals.

Back in the canyon, Simba was already getting bored. He tried batting around rocks, but it was no fun with just one player. He sharpened his claws on the tree to keep himself focused on his father's surprise. He even tried catching his own tail, though he failed to see the appeal. Little roar...puh! he scoffed to himself. He would make up with his dad and show his uncle that he could roar.

Simba was about to take a nap when a chameleon came walking out, its eyes darting left and right as its skin slowly changed to a brown hue. It flicked out its long, sticky tongue and caught a dragonfly, bringing it to its mouth and chomping on it. As it ate, its skin changed back to green. Simba smiled and crouched; perhaps this chameleon would be the perfect practice target for his roar.

He growled as the chameleon walked by. The lizard merely looked at him and walked on. Simba tried a second time, this time a little more drawn out. As last time, it just kept walking. Finally, Simba went up right behind it and let out a loud yowl, scaring the chameleon into running. As he did, his growl echoed off the gorge walls like he was in a cave.

The chameleon suddenly turned back to brown and darted to a crack in the wall, confusing Simba. But the chameleon didn't matter right now. Simba watched it leave, thinking with glee, I did it! My roar reached the rim! Wait till Dad hears that!

Suddenly, the earth started to rumble beneath his paws. Simba was confused; had his roar meant to do that? Were roars supposed to make the earth shake? Then he looked up at the sky from the gorge's rim; it seemed to be growing darker. Perhaps it was a storm coming earlier?

But then he saw the figures of horned and hoofed animals starting to run down the ledges leading into the gorge. It was no thunderstorm. It was a wildebeest herd, a massive one, stampeding into the gorge and right towards him. Simba froze on the spot momentarily, frightened and unable to figure out what to do.

Then Simba did the only thing he could do as the wildebeests got closer. He ran.

...

It had been a hectic morning for Mufasa. During his patrol, he had to sort out a feud between two banded mongoose families and got sidelined by an angry juvenile male elephant. Besides that, the morning was lovely, and Mufasa allowed himself to take a break. The sun warmed his golden fur and reddish mane, but it wouldn't take long before the sun would get even more unbearable.

He remembered the elephant graveyard mishap just yesterday. While Mufasa had been disappointed in Simba for going there, he couldn't stay mad at his son; as many others said, he was slow to anger and very quick to love. He had hoped that Simba liked looking up at the stars of his ancestors, just as his father, King Ahadi, had done.

As he climbed the slope, Zazu fell to rest on his shoulder. "Look, Sire!" he announced. "The herds are on the move."

The king followed Zazu's gaze out towards the gorge. The wildebeest herds had moved to their summer grounds not too long ago. It was too soon for them to turn back like this. "That's odd," he murmured to himself.

"Mufasa!" Scar was scrambling up the rock, looking frightened. He had burst out from the bushes below the rock to catch up with his brother. "Come quickly! Stampede! In the gorge! Simba's down there!"

"Simba?" Mufasa asked, frightened. Whatever else he had planned paled compared to what he had just learned. "He's in danger? Why was Simba down there, Scar?!"

"I was walking with him and helping him find a gift for you," Scar panted, sounding frantic. "The stampede had begun when I reached the top of the gorge. I couldn't go there in time to get him out, so I had to find you."

Mufasa shook his head. "We can't stand here talking. My son needs us! Come!"

"I'll fly ahead, Your Majesty!" piped up Zazu, taking off into the sky.

So Mufasa took off running towards the gorge as fast as he could go, Scar on his heels. Above their heads, Zazu flew ahead of them, flapping his wings as fast as he could.

...

Simba ran faster than ever, even more so than when the hyenas had chased him and Nala. That was nothing compared to over a million wildebeests thundering into the gorge and stampeding toward him. If he ever got out of this alive, he would never leave Pride Rock again.

As he ran, he noticed a small dead tree up ahead. It wouldn't protect him much from the stampede, having been dead for a long time, but he would be out of their way. Once he reached it, he took a flying leap and sank his claws into the bark, scrambling up the best he could. Simba climbed to the top and clung on for dear life, watching the stampede race below.

Then he spotted Zazu. The hornbill was flying far above the stampede, looking left and right. He flew down to the prince when he found Simba on the dead tree.

"Zazu, help me!" Simba cried out in fright, yelping as a wildebeest crashed into the tree.

"Your father's on his way, Simba!" Zazu called in reply. "Hold on, and don't let go!"

"Hurry!" screamed Simba. Zazu was here to help; he would hold on if he told him to hold on.

Zazu's heart twisted with anguish as he watched the young cub struggling to stay afloat. Despite all the trouble Simba had caused him, Zazu felt a desperate urge to swoop down and rescue the prince himself. However, his lack of strength and agility rendered him helpless.

As he soared through the air, Zazu caught sight of Mufasa and Scar pausing at a ledge, frantically searching for Simba. Zazu hurried over to Mufasa, urgently shouting, "There! He's over there! On that dead tree!"

Mufasa followed Zazu's pointing wing, and his expression grew fraught as he spotted Simba clinging desperately to the tree trunk. "HOLD ON, SIMBA!" he roared, his urgent voice echoing through the canyon.

As another wildebeest hit the dead tree, Mufasa jumped down the ledges until he was at the edge of the stampede. He took a deep breath and leaped into the fray. The last of him that Scar and Zazu could see was him racing along the outer band before plunging through the herd.

"Oh no, this is awful! What will we do?!" Zazu squawked. "I know! I'll go back for help! The pride can help - "

But Scar did not want Mufasa and Simba to be rescued, and he certainly couldn't afford the bird forming a rescue party. So as Zazu started to lift off, Scar swatted him to the side as hard as he could. Zazu hit the canyon wall just behind him and fell flat on his back, unconscious.

Meanwhile, Mufasa ran a bit before turning and running the opposite way. He ran as fast as he could, so fast that he even crashed into an oncoming wildebeest. The animal stumbled before getting back up and joining its herd.

Then, as he rounded a bend, he noticed the dead tree that Zazu had told him about. Simba was clinging to a high branch, looking even more scared than in the elephant graveyard. With a grunt, Mufasa shouldered through the wildebeests until he arrived at the foot of the tree, rearing up to get to his son.

"Dad!" Simba exclaimed, relief washing over his face.

"Simba!" Mufasa called, clinging to the tree with his claws. "Come to me, son! Jump!"

But before Simba could reply, Mufasa heard a nasty crack ripple through the bark. The wildebeest had charged into the dead tree so hard that it snapped in two. Simba was flung through the air, screaming, and the fear of losing his son swiftly carried Mufasa into action. He jumped up and caught Simba before he could be trampled underneath the thundering hooves. With his son in his jaws, the king tried to maneuver his way out of the stampede, leaping this way and that.

Scar was watching them from above, prowling along the ridge of the gorge. The plan was working well so far. The hyenas had succeeded in completing this task, and he would ensure they were rewarded. But for now, he had to keep his eye on his brother and son.

In the stampede, Mufasa crashed into another stampeding wildebeest, causing Simba to drop to the ground. Once again, Simba was left alone in the middle of the stampede. The wildebeests didn't seem to notice or care that a lion cub was lost, scared, and trying to get out. To his relief, Mufasa came running over and picked him up, making a break for it when a brief opening appeared. He leaped up the ledge above the stampede and gently dropped Simba off there, nuzzling him. Simba almost smiled; they were both going to be okay.

That is, until another wildebeest came charging. It crashed headfirst into Mufasa's flank, and Mufasa was thrown back by the charge and flung back into the stampede.

"DAD!" Simba shouted. But his mew was barely heard above the stampede's roar. He tried looking for his father beneath the hooves but found nothing except more hooves. A pang of fear made him flatten his ears; was Mufasa being trampled right now?

Moments later, Mufasa emerged. He leaped out of the stampede with a roar, clinging to the rocky wall with all his claws. While climbing, Simba looked around to find a place to meet him. He waited until Mufasa was out of sight before climbing up his own way. He would meet Mufasa at whatever side he appeared on.

Back with Mufasa, the great Lion King struggled to grasp the rocky wall. He kept his claws out as he climbed, lest he slip and slowly fall back into the stampede. It didn't matter that he was exhausted and battered; what mattered the most was that his son needed to be safe.

He had just reached the cliff's edge when he spotted someone watching him from that ledge. It was Scar, green eyes unreadable and whiskers twitching.

"Scar!" Mufasa called, his back paws scrabbling on the cliff face. "Brother...help me...!"

For a moment, Scar said nothing. He looked down at Mufasa as if he were a stranger, not his flesh and blood. Panting, Mufasa tried his best to haul himself up to his brother's side. Please, Scar, he begged silently. I need your help.

Then Scar moved...and sank his claws into Mufasa's paws. Mufasa roared in surprise and pain, stopping in time to see the malice in the other lion's eyes. Taking in the shock and horror in his brother's eyes (as well as his claws feeling the blood from the bigger lion's paws), Scar leaned down and whispered four words into his ear:

"Long live the king."

And with that, he let go and flung Mufasa off the cliff. He felt cold satisfaction run through his veins as he watched his brother scream and fall to his death, and he welcomed it.

Chapter Text

In the meantime, Simba was climbing up the rocks to try to find his father. Fear pushed him onward and fueled his heart like blood pumping into a cheetah's veins. He didn't care anymore if he didn't get a surprise; all that mattered was that he and Mufasa would get out of this mess together, alive and well.

The last time he saw Mufasa, he climbed higher and higher towards a ledge. Simba felt his heart beat with relief. They were going to get out after all. It was going to be all okay. He climbed higher until he came to a safer ledge, where he could see the gorge below. Just a little bit more, and...

But when he looked outward, his optimism turned into sheer horror. Mufasa - the lion believed to be powerful, his father - was now falling to his death, screaming and roaring.

"NOOOOOOO!" Simba screamed, but it was too late. Mufasa disappeared under thousands of pounding hooves, and the thunder of the stampede cut off his roars.

Down below, the stampede was now starting to fade away. The last of the wildebeests were picking up the pace, sending dust clouds in the air. Once the last of the wildebeests were gone, Simba climbed into the gorge to look for his father.

While the herd was no longer in the gorge, the dust still hung in the air. Hoofprints littered the ground like someone had dropped rocks onto the earth from on high. Simba darted around, trying to find where his father had fallen. He mistook rocks, mounds of dirt, and even a few dead wildebeests for his father.

"DAD!" he yelled, his voice echoing around the walls. As he had yelled, he accidentally gulped in some dust and coughed.

Suddenly, footsteps started sounding out, making Simba's head turn. "Dad?" he asked hopefully.

But all that appeared was a lone wildebeest, galloping down the path that the many wildebeest took. It made a sharp turn to run around a large mound on the ground and disappeared. Simba gasped when he realized that this mound had fur, ran over towards the mound...and stopped when he realized who that animal was.

Mufasa was there, all right. He was lying on his side, unmoving and not breathing. His eyes were closed, his whiskers were bent out of shape, and his fur and mane were ragged and patchy. Drying blood coated his golden fur, some from cuts on his sides and paws and others from bruises that had been scratched open. A scar had formed over his left eye like a wildebeest's horn had cut across it while he was trampled.

"Dad?" Simba mewled. He walked over and rubbed his head against Mufasa's mane, but Mufasa didn't stir. "Dad, come on, you gotta get up. Dad..." His voice cracked as he reared up to shake him awake. "...we gotta go home."

He tugged on his father's ear, just as he had done to wake him. This time, however, Mufasa wasn't getting up. Tears welled up in Simba's eyes. He wanted this to be a nightmare to wake up from, but this was real. His father was still lying motionless in the gorge. It can't be...

With a sob, Simba screamed to the sky, "HEEELLLLP! Somebody! Anybody..."

But no one answered. Only the blowing breeze filled his ears.

"Help..." Simba choked, the word caught in his throat. He was alone, utterly alone.

Sobbing, Simba padded back to Mufasa and tried burrowing through his thick, reddish mane. He crawled up to his father's face, the whiskers brushing against his face. Then he lay beside Mufasa's head and hid his face in his mane, crying softly.

"Simba," a familiar voice sounded from behind them. Through his tears, Simba looked up at his uncle Scar, gazing down at him. He had a cold look in his green eyes as he watched the cub mourn for his father. "What have you done?"

"There was a stampede. H-He tried to save me," Simba choked out, the words threatening to lodge in his throat. "It was an accident! I-I didn't mean it to happen!"

"Of course, you didn't," Scar said with sympathy, pulling Simba close. It felt like he had sensed the troubles Simba was now going through. "No one ever means for these things to happen. But the king is dead."

Simba felt more tears fall down his cheeks as he leaned against Scar's foreleg. It was true. Mufasa was dead. He would never see his father again.

Then, what Scar said next chilled his blood: "And if it weren't for you, he would still be alive. Your father had such high hopes for you and gave you many chances. And this is how you repay him. How could you even think of doing such a dreadful thing?"

Simba pulled away from his uncle, his heart threatening to shut down. He didn't want to believe it but felt Scar was right. The stampede and Mufasa's death were his fault, after all. He couldn't help but cry again.

"What will your mother think?" Scar rasped, stepping away from Simba as if he were a parasite. "She will be disappointed to learn that her son caused his father's death, a boy who had killed his king. What if she decided to hate you for what you have done? Why, you could never show your face around the pride again."

Again, Scar's words frightened and saddened Simba. His mother could hate him for what he had done, wanting nothing more to do with him. "What am I going to do?" he whimpered.

"Run, Simba," Scar replied, staring him down. "Run away and never return."

Simba was shocked at his uncle's suggestion. But after looking at his father's corpse, he knew Scar was right. The lionesses would be angry with him for killing their king. He had to leave the Pride Lands, now and forever, especially when he was responsible for Mufasa's death.

"I'm sorry, Dad," he sobbed before turning away. "I'm so sorry..."

And with that, he began to run away.

Not far off, Scar observed the cub's departure with a small smile on his face. It had all been far easier than he had anticipated. When he first concocted the plan to eliminate Mufasa, he had hoped that Simba would also perish. Both had to be eliminated for Scar to secure his position as the next in line for the throne. However, manipulating Simba into self-exile? That had worked out swimmingly well.

Nevertheless, Scar realized that keeping Simba alive would pose certain complications. He could potentially return one day to challenge Scar's rule, serving as a hidden trump card for those loyal to Mufasa. No, Scar couldn't afford to take that risk. He needed to ensure that Simba was gone for good to solidify his uncontested claim to the throne.

Growls from behind alerted him to the arrival of the hyenas. Shenzi approached Scar and nodded, satisfied that he was following through with their agreement. In return, Scar gazed in the direction where Simba had fled and uttered two decisive words:

"Kill him."

...

Simba ran as fast as he could. He couldn't get the image of his father's lifeless and mangled body out of his head. No matter how fast he ran, he could not eliminate images of Mufasa's death, Scar's accusations, and Sarabi's possible heartbreak. At the thought of his mother, he stopped and looked around at the surrounding walls.

"What am I doing? I can't leave yet," he thought. "I gotta go back and apologize for what I've done. Maybe Mom will understand. I gotta be there for her."

But as he turned around, he wished he hadn't. The five hyenas he and Nala had met in the elephant graveyard were slowly approaching him. They blocked his only way out, licking their chops, their eyes glowing a yellowish hue in the shadows of the walls. There was no Mufasa to save him anymore, and no one to help him face the hyenas. Now, he just needed to look out for himself.

Simba whirled around and began scaling the pile of rocks toward a crevice. He could feel the hot, foul breath of the hyenas on his back, but he didn't dare glance behind to see which one it was. With a determined effort, he squeezed through the narrow opening and emerged on the other side, away from the ravine and on the border of the Pride Lands.

However, his sense of triumph was short-lived. At the border of the Pride Lands, the ground abruptly dropped off into a sheer cliff, with a perilous fall to the jagged bottom. If the fall didn't spell doom, the sharp thorns below surely would. Before Simba could locate an alternative route, the hyenas were already charging toward him. Shenzi led the pack, her teeth bared and her tongue lolling out.

Ignoring all caution, Simba lunged forward toward the thorn-laden expanse at the foot of the cliff. He tumbled and collided with the rocks, sustaining bruises across his body. Meanwhile, the hyenas found an easier path and raced past, their cackles echoing through the air. Eventually, Simba plunged into the dense thicket, his flesh torn and bloodied by the sharp thorns, but finding brief safety as he attempted to navigate his way through to the other side.

Suddenly, Banzai yelped, "Whoa!" the closer they got to the edge of the thickets. He stopped in time, but the extra force of four other hyenas slamming into him sent him sailing into the thorns. Just a few seconds passed, and Banzai shot out of the thicket, yelling as the thorns pricked him. While Shenzi and Ed laughed at Banzai, who climbed out all prickly but alive, Kamari walked over to the edge, trying to sniff out Simba. Azizi joined him, nosily siding beside him and looking down.

"Seriously?" Kamari snapped, irritated at Azizi's nosiness. "Are you for real?"

"Sorry. I'm going right here," muttered Azizi. He walked to the side, away from Kamari and near Ed.

Kamari nodded. "That's a good distance right there," he growled. "Keep each other company."

"Hey, there he goes! There he goes!" Shenzi suddenly barked. The hyenas looked to where she was glaring. Simba had pulled himself out of the thickets and was running for the desert toward the setting sun.

Banzai was too busy plucking thorns off his body. "So go get him!"

"There ain't no way I'm goin' in there!" Shenzi scoffed. "What, you want me comin' out lookin' like you, Cactus Butt?"

With a frown, Banzai spat the thorns in his mouth at Ed. It hit Ed on the nose, making him yelp, and he worked on getting those thorns out. "We gotta finish the job," Banzai exclaimed.

"No cub would've survived a fall like that or the thorns. We should tell Scar that we went down there and ate him," Kamari advised.

Azizi licked his chops. "That's good. Because I'm starving."

Kamari turned on him, growling. "We're not gonna eat him! He's already running off!"

"Well, Simba's as good as dead out there anyway," replied Shenzi, staring at where Simba was leaving. "As you said, Kamari, we can tell Scar that we ate the brat. That's all he needs to know. And if he comes back, we'll kill him."

No one spoke for a few moments. Finally, Azizi shrugged and said, "Works for me."

"Yeah," Banzai agreed with a grin. He looked back to where the cub was fleeing. "Hey, you hear that?! If you ever come back, we'll kill you!"

As Simba ran, he heard the hyena's threats and laughter echo in his ears. He should have been dead from that fall he had taken from the cliff and into the thorn thickets, bruised and scratched. Yet he was still alive. For some strange reason that only the kings of the past knew, he was alive. He wanted to distance himself and the hyenas as much as possible.

It was foolish to think he could return to the pride. He knew he could never go back.

He was exiled from the Pride Lands.

Chapter Text

The sun was slowly going down for the day, giving way to the night. The sky had slowly turned from a baby blue to a deep red, the color of spilled blood, and the air was getting slightly cooler. It was a beautiful end to a day that would get better...at least for Scar.

A satisfied Scar returned to Pride Rock, and he couldn't keep the smile off his face. Shenzi had told him they had caught Simba and killed him, eating his corpse before tossing the remains away. This pleased Scar. That loose end with Simba had officially been tied. Now, no one would stop him from taking over Pride Rock or finding out about his plan.

So Scar returned to Pride Rock to tell the lionesses and cubs the news. It was night when he returned, as Sarabi had returned from the hunt with her fellow lionesses. They had taken down a juvenile giraffe and were ready to eat when Scar sauntered up to them.

"Scar?" Sarabi asked warily, looking up from the fresh kill. "What's going on?"

"Is everyone gathered here?" asked Scar. He had breathed an air of grief to prepare to deliver the bad news. "I have terrible news for you; even the cubs need to hear this. It involves Mufasa and Simba."

At this, Sarabi's amber eyes widened with shock and creeping fear. She left the fresh kill to fetch everyone in the pride, from the oldest lioness to the youngest cub. They gathered at the foot of Pride Rock, where Scar sat before them on a smaller rock. This was how he wanted to imagine himself on his first night as king: looking down on everyone else.

"It is a terrible day for the Pride Lands," Scar announced. "The migrating wildebeest herd stampeded in the gorge today, with young Simba caught in the middle. Our king Mufasa - noble, wise, and beloved as he was - died saving Simba from the stampede. Alas, it was all for nothing. Simba had fallen to the stampede as well, his life cut short."

The effect was immediate. Sarabi seemed to understand what was happening...and then let out a despairing roar to the sky, tears streaming down her face. Most of the other lionesses walked over to give condolences to their queen, some crying with her and others praying. Zazu (who had returned shortly after Scar did) gently rested a wing on Sarabi's paw, showing her his sympathies. Even the cubs realized what was happening, and little Nala's eyes were full of tears when she heard of the death of her friend.

Oh, I am good, Scar thought with a smirk. It was all too satisfying to witness. Mufasa may have been the stronger of the siblings, but Scar got the acting part down pat.

"Mufasa's death is a terrible tragedy," Scar continued, turning back to the pride. "He was the greatest king that the pride has ever known. To lose a brother is such a deep and personal loss. And to lose Simba..." He allowed himself to trail off, as if overcome with emotion, gulping as if choking back tears. "To lose Simba, who had barely begun to live, a cub whose blood held our future...it's almost too much to endure. I wish I had gotten to the gorge in time to save them."

He turned his back on the pride so they didn't see his smirk. So far, so good, he believed.

Then Scar turned back to the pride just as the moon rose. "So it is with a heavy heart that I assume the throne. With Mufasa and Simba gone, I am now your king."

The lionesses murmured among themselves. While it was true that Scar was to be in line for the throne, something about him made their fur prickle. Only Zira, a younger lioness, watched him with a gleeful look. Scar had gotten to know her when she was an outsider, taken in by Ahadi when her mother was killed. While she had stayed with Ahadi's pride, she had come to know Scar and sympathize with his goals while opposing Ahadi and Mufasa alongside him. At least he could count on her as an ally.

"But I must admit that I cannot bear this burden alone. After all, what is a king without a queen?" Scar pressed on, staring down at Sarabi. He hoped that she would agree right there and then.

To his annoyance, she snarled up at him, her eyes still full of tears. Scar only scoffed at this. She would say yes. One way or another, Scar would not stop until he had what he wanted. He had Zira for now, but Sarabi would be his.

"One more thing I need to address: your new army, which will keep you safe," he said. He turned to the shadows on his left and called, "Come on out, my friends. I hereby invite you all to help yourselves to our bounty."

Sinister cackles echoed from beyond Pride Rock. One by one, Shenzi and her hyenas - a whole army of up to fifty - sauntered towards Scar, slinking past the lionesses. The lionesses were shocked and horrified before they shielded their cubs from the hyenas' view, snarling. What was Scar doing, inviting them onto their territory for free?

"And so, from the ashes of this tragedy, we shall rise to greet the dawning of a new era," Scar concluded as the hyenas marched over to stand beside Scar. "An era in which lion and hyena will live together, where all prejudice is set aside, and where all animals of Pride Rock are equal. Welcome, my pride, to a great and glorious future!"

...

As the hyenas arrived at Pride Rock, they felt like they were invading and taking over. Their brown fur was dull and matted, and their sharp, drooling fangs sent chills down Sarabi's spine. Their eyes were full of malice, and she knew that things were about to go very wrong.

But nothing compared to the pain of losing her mate and son. The thought of never feeling Mufasa's mane or gently grooming Simba again was almost too much to bear. As she looked at the place where they had slept as a family, it all felt like a horrible nightmare. But it was real - they were taken from her on that terrible day, leaving her with a grief that was almost too heavy to bear. And as much as she hated to admit it, Scar was right about Simba; he would have been a great king.

Speaking of Scar, as she headed to the cave to grieve, she lifted her gaze to see the new king talking with Shenzi, the leader of the hyenas. He had acted as though he was upset that Mufasa and Simba were dead, but she doubted he missed them. There was no love lost between the brothers. She had known Scar since they were younger and wished she could ask him or Mufasa what had gone wrong between them. But when she did, Scar would scoff, and Mufasa would look uncomfortable before changing the subject.

As for the lionesses, they followed her with fear and sadness in their eyes. Their cubs looked scared beyond belief at the thought of the hyenas approaching them. Sarabi wanted to run over to them, to comfort them and help them escape this nightmare. What will we do? she thought. We can't let the hyenas take over. They'll destroy everything...and everyone.

Then she saw something that infuriated her, making her fur itch angrily. Zira, the arrogant young lioness, was sidling up to Scar, giggling when he talked with her. As Scar walked off, Sarabi approached Zira, fixing her with a stern glare.

"How can this be a good time to smile and laugh?" Sarabi demanded. "This is a day of mourning, not flirting and giggling. Two lives were lost today!"

Zira snorted. "My, my, Sarabi. That temper will get you nowhere," she responded with a simpering tone that made Sarabi want to smack her. "Come on, Sarabi, just admit it. Mufasa's reign was pretty weak, and Scar had the right idea to invite the hyenas into the Pride Lands; he will unite lions and hyenas. As for Simba, he would've been a pathetic king indeed. With Scar, there will be much more order and progress."

Sarabi knew that Zira didn't get along with Mufasa or Simba, but hearing her slander her late king and son was too much. "You don't know that," she snapped. "Even if you disagreed with Mufasa, he did his best to uphold this land's traditions. And Simba would have done the same."

"Quit living in the past, Sarabi, and get your head out of the clouds," growled Zira. "Scar will be the better king; just wait. Now, if you'll excuse me, I must find Scar." Then she paused and snorted, "And as if you would make a good queen for Scar. You're nothing but an old has-been. What good would someone like you do for the pride?"

Zira trotted off, whipping her tail at Sarabi's face as she spun around. Sarabi fumed, wanting to tell Zira off more, but she decided to leave the selfish lioness to her fantasies. No use arguing with a fool or stooping to a fool's level, she believed.

"Queen Sarabi?" a small voice piped up behind her. The queen turned around and saw Nala creeping out from between Sarafina's front legs, eyes full of tears and fright; behind her, the younger cubs began wrestling with each other. "What did Scar mean by a 'new era'? Are we letting the hyenas stay here?"

Now Sarabi realized she wasn't the only one who lost something today. Nala had lost her best friend; she would never get to play with him again. Sarabi bent down to touch the cub's forehead with her nose, as she had done with Simba many times before.

"I don't know," she admitted, watching the other lionesses and cubs surrounding her. "I just don't know."

The sound of yips and snarls echoed through the air, causing the lionesses to look around in alarm. The hyenas were brazenly feasting on the lionesses' hard-earned kill, greedily chewing and smacking their lips. The younger hyenas were not spared, being nipped and pushed away by the aggressive, larger hyenas. It was a stark reminder of the vast differences between the two species. In the Pride Lands, lions never resorted to such selfish behavior when it came to sharing a fresh kill. To make matters worse, Scar and Zira stood back with smug grins, clearly relishing their behavior.

"The nerve of that foolish girl," Sarafina muttered with disappointment, referring to Zira. "I don't know what she sees in Scar now. I knew what he had become, and I can't understand why she's blind to it."

It was undeniable. Zira was no longer to be trusted, yet it was Scar who instilled the most fear in Sarabi. His eagerness to spread the news of Mufasa and Simba's demise, coupled with his audacious proposal that she be his queen, sent a chill down her spine. She would never be his queen. Mufasa would forever hold that place in her heart, and she vowed never to accept another mate.

As for Scar's grand promise of lions and hyenas coexisting, Sarabi sensed that it heralded something significant, yet ominous. Dark days loomed on the horizon, and she braced herself for the challenges that lay ahead.

Sarabi finally found the courage to speak out. "I don't know what the future holds," she told the lionesses and their cubs. "Scar thinks we must coexist with the hyenas. Perhaps it won't last; lions and hyenas have always been enemies outside the Pride Lands. But I am certain of one thing: we will not surrender. We must make Scar believe he has won, only to surprise him with our unbroken spirits." Locking eyes with the other lionesses, she urged them to stand together. "We may not always catch our prey, but it's better to go hungry than to surrender our meals to the hyenas. Never wander alone. We need to stay united as a pride - now more than ever. So, are you with me, my fellow lions?"

There was no hesitation in their response. They nodded in unison, and Sarabi reciprocated, acknowledging their loyalty. As they gazed up at the star-studded sky, Sarabi's mind raced with thoughts. Pride Rock was their home, and despite her losses, she refused to lose it as well.

...

Far away in the ancient baobab tree, Rafiki groaned with sadness and wiped a tear from his eyes. It had been a horrible day, which would only lead to many more awful days, marking a dark time in the history of the Pride Lands. Mufasa and Simba were gone, and Scar had allowed the hyenas to invade their home, defying the ancient law and tradition of borders. Even he knew that inviting a lot of hyenas to the Pride Lands was asking for trouble.

"Madi ao," he began his lamentation, a prayer used when a member of the Pride Lands was needlessly killed. He bowed his head and murmured, eyes focused on his hands as he clenched one into a fist. "Leka sebete chia ho nele sebatha. Mo leka qeme o tsaba oha. Lebo haling ha o bue ka le ha."

Then, he turned his attention to the painting of Simba, which he had made months before, following his presentation. Sadness overtook him as he rested his hand on the painting before wiping across it. It was a sign that a royal member of the family - a cub at that - was gone, dead at the prime of his life. The legacy of Mufasa, his old friend, was gone.

Rafiki looked to the sky at the twinkling stars and the shining moon, his face somber. "You have left us too soon, my king and prince," he prayed. "The pride and your subjects need your guidance."

All that answered him was a slight breeze ruffling his dark gray fur.

Chapter Text

Simba had no idea how long he walked after that, but he was exhausted by the time he was out of the Pride Lands. The sun had come and gone several times, but he didn't stop even when he reached the borders. He only had two goals: get away from the Pride Lands and lose the hyenas.

He limped until he reached the desert, an area he had never been to. This was nothing like the Pride Lands, which were lush and green during the wet season; instead, it was a dry and desolate land with never-ending sand and sweeping dunes in sight. He limped on through the desert, tired and pained the more he trudged on. At last, Simba could take it no more, and he collapsed. He wasn't sure how far he had walked, but he was sure that he had limped a pretty good distance.

While he lay there, Simba began thinking. His stomach was empty, yet his mind was full, making it hard to rest. Images flashed through his mind: his father falling into the stampede and his uncle condemning his actions in starting the stampede. Then another image flashed, which made his already dry eyes burn with tears: his mother's reaction to Mufasa's death. He could also see her sadness turn to anger toward him once she figured out that he was the one who did it. His ears echoed with what Sarabi would roar at him: that she hated him, wanted never to see him again, and wished that Simba had died instead.

He definitely could never go back. But there would be no returning anyway, even if he wanted to. Wanting to or not, he was going to die in the desert.

Suddenly, the sounds of screeching buzzards reached his ears. Indeed, buzzards circled above him, waiting for the perfect moment to swoop down. Simba wanted desperately to make a run for it, but he couldn't. He was too tired to limp on, too hungry and thirsty to move.

Maybe I should rest, he thought, tucking his legs in. Just for a little bit. And then...I don't know what to do anymore...

While he closed his eyes, he could hear the buzzards coming closer and closer, wings flapping and beaks squawking. This time, he did not fight back as he blacked out.

...

When the lion cub collapsed, the buzzards knew they were getting free meat. He was all alone in the desert, lost and hungry and thirsty. He was so thin that one could see the ribs poking out of his now-dull golden fur. The buzzards landed beside the unconscious lion cub, ready to settle down with a meal.

Suddenly, a yell and a red blur caused the buzzards to scatter, taking to the air. A reddish-brown warthog came shouting and charging at them, headbutting any birds unlucky enough to still stay on the ground. Besides the warthog, a meerkat jumped down from the warthog's back, yelling at the buzzards and trying to smack them with his paw.

The buzzards got the message. They lifted off from their soon-to-be meal and flew away, leaving behind nothing but dust and feathers.

"I love this game!" the warthog cheered once the buzzards were gone. "Bowling For Buzzards! I told you one more round wouldn't hurt, Timon!"

"Yeah, you told me. Gets 'em every time!" the meerkat named Timon chuckled, dusting off his paws. "Any eggs there? I'm telling ya, Pumbaa, they're best when the buzzards pop 'em out!"

The warthog named Pumbaa put his nose to the ground, sniffing and snorting. "No, I don't see or smell any eggs. But I'm gonna get one of those buzzards again one day. You'll see! I'm gonna get 'em!"

Timon snorted. "Yeah, sure, when pigs fly. When did you get the habit of chasing them anyway?"

"It makes me feel better," replied Pumbaa.

This meerkat and warthog duo, Timon and Pumbaa, had quite a history together. They had met only a few months ago, yet they were inseparable. One wouldn't usually see one without the other, whether they ate their favorite meal or relaxed the day away. Most of all, they liked having fun, and every day was one long party for them.

"Uh-oh." Pumbaa had stopped sniffing, his tail whisking back and forth. He had found a small golden mound of fur where the buzzards had gathered. "Hey, Timon, you better come look. I think it's still alive."

"Alive?" Timon piped up, looking curious. "Sheesh, those stinking buzzards couldn't wait until it was dead? Still, it just looks like a fur coat to me. And it's just my size!"

Pumbaa tilted his head to the side. "But what if it's someone else's fur coat?"

"Forget them. What about me?" Timon scoffed, walking up to the fur coat. "I'm a naked meerkat! I'm gonna need it for those chilly nights. And I'm pretty sure this fuzzy coat is just what we need. So okay, what do we have here?"

The meerkat sniffed the body, his front paws feeling around for a heartbeat. He bent down and lifted up the creature's heavy front paw, and he yelped when he saw its face.

"JEEZ, IT'S A LION!" Timon suddenly shrieked, running for a rock. "Run, Pumbaa, move it! It's a lion!"

Pumbaa took a closer look at the cub, his eyes full of sympathy. "Come on, Timon. It's just a little lion!"

"It gets bigger!" Timon called back.

"But look at him," Pumbaa protested, turning back to see the lion cub. The cub looked frail, thin, and beaten as if he had lived his entire life in the desert. "He's so cute and all alone!"

"Oh yeah, he's cute," Timon snapped, his voice full of sarcasm. "Nothing says cute like a five-hundred-pound monster that can suck my blood out!"

Pumbaa looked around, looking for the cub's parents. Once he saw no one coming for him, he turned back to Timon, a pleading look on his warty face. "Can we keep him?"

At this, Timon jumped up and yelled in Pumbaa's ear, "Pumbaa, ARE YA NUTS?! You're talking about a lion! Lions eat guys like us! Are you missing the shifty eyes and sharp fangs? 'Cause I haven't!"

"Come on, I promise I'll take care of him!" Pumbaa pleaded. "I can take him out for walks, I can clean up his messes - "

"One of his messes being you once he eats you!" Timon retorted. "And then he'd use my body as a toothpick! Plus, you can't have a pet! Remember that beetle you brought back home?"

They could both remember that. Once, Pumbaa had wanted a pet to bring home, so he " adopted" a beetle. It didn't last long, however, only a day; it had accidentally ended up being in his dinner.

"That was an accident. And some of my friends are carnivores, you know. Not all carnivores are bad," Pumbaa said.

"But the thing is, my corpulent compadre, those carnivores don't hunt us!" retorted Timon.

Pumbaa didn't respond to that. Then his eyes brightened as he declared, "Hey, I have an idea! Once he gets bigger, what if he's on our side?"

This only made Timon laugh. "Hahaha! That is the stupidest thing I've ever - hey. Wait a minute." His eyes grew bright, and a smile came to his face. "Once he gets bigger, what if he's on our side?" he asked, taking credit for Pumbaa's idea. "You know - and hear me out, my porcine pal - having a lion around might not be a bad idea after all."

Pumbaa's tail shot up like a flag, and he bent down to gently scoop the cub onto his tusks and snout. "So we're gonna keep him?"

Timon ran over to climb onto Pumbaa's back. "Yes, we're gonna keep him. Who's the brains of this outfit?" Pumbaa tried to think, but Timon already said, "My point exactly. Boy, I'm feeling fried. Let's get outta here and find some shade."

So they went to the nearest oasis, Pumbaa chanting happily, "We're gonna name him Fred!"

...

The first thing Simba felt was something wet splashing on his face. It felt too warm to be actual water. He had also heard voices as he woke up, but these voices were unfamiliar. When he opened his eyes, he took in his surroundings. The desert was behind him, and he was resting in a small oasis, a small clump of tropical trees, and a pool of water.

He also saw that he wasn't alone now. Instead, a meerkat and a warthog were watching him with concern. The warthog was, anyway. In the meantime, the meerkat looked torn between concern and wanting to flee. He had been the one to splash some water onto his face to wake him up.

The meerkat tilted his head. "You okay, kid?"

"I-I guess so," Simba stammered.

"You nearly died," the warthog said.

"I saved you," bragged the meerkat. The warthog snorted at him, so he retracted, "Well, he helped...a little. So yeah, we're the guys who saved your life. Risked everything too, fighting vultures and stuff."

"I thought they were buzzards," the warthog reminded the meerkat. "Anyway, my name's Pumbaa. And this is my best buddy, Timon."

But Timon was already caught up in his story. "Oh yeah, there were a bunch of 'em flocking us. It was horrible. I told Pumbaa, 'If we don't make it out, tell Ma and Uncle Max and the folks where I was and that I hoped they weren't disappointed in me.' But we lived to tell the tale and saved you. No need to thank us." When Simba merely stared at him, Timon remarked, "You do know we saved you, right?"

I wish you hadn't. It would've saved everyone the trouble, Simba thought miserably. But all he could say instead was, "Yeah. Thanks for your help."

He bent down to lap up the water from the oasis. It was too warm and gritty to enjoy fully, but at least it was enough to leave him quenched. All those times he had complained about being at the watering hole flashed across his mind, and he now wished he appreciated it more. He wished he was back there, playing with Nala and splashing around in the shallow end.

Once he finished drinking, he turned his back on the duo and started walking away, back out into the desert. His paws felt like they were stepping on glass, and his belly growled in protest about the lack of food.

"Hey, where you going?" Timon called after him.

"Doesn't matter," was all Simba said.

The duo watched him go, sympathy on their faces. When Simba was slightly out of earshot, Pumbaa murmured, stunned, "'Doesn't matter'? How bleak is that?"

"Like we don't have enough problems on our plate," Timon muttered. "Gee, he sure looks blue."

"I'd say he looks more brownish-gold," said Pumbaa.

"No, I mean he's depressed," Timon responded. Sometimes, even though they were best friends, Pumbaa was a little too literal-minded and naïve about many things.

"Oh...then we should help him!" Pumbaa left the shade, followed by Timon, until he caught up with Simba. When they sat down, Pumbaa asked Simba, "Hey kid, what's eating you?"

"Nothing, he's at the top of the food chain!" Timon chortled. He started laughing out loud, nudging Simba to get him to laugh. "Get it? The food chain!"

But Simba didn't laugh or even smile. Even Pumbaa, who was easily amused by jokes, gave Timon a look. This made Timon realize that the joke had flopped, so he stopped laughing.

"So..." Timon cleared his throat. "Where ya from?"

"Who cares?" Simba grumbled. "I can't go back."

"If you can't go back, little lion," Pumbaa asked, "then is there someone who can take you home?"

"And by someone," Timon added, "does he mean a large hairy beast? A large hairy beast with a mane and razor-sharp claws and teeth?"

Simba didn't even shrug. "No. No one will ever find me."

"Oh, you're an outcast? That's great; so are we!" Timon leaned against a rock, saying, "Spill the beans, kid. We love us a good fellow outcast story."

"I love 'em," Pumbaa added, starting to tear up. "They make me cry. I love the ones where an animal falls in a pit and eats his own foot."

Simba was confused by Timon and Pumbaa. These two seemed silly to be around, yet they didn't mean any harm. But there would still be no way he would tell them what happened.

"So what happened to make you an outcast?" Timon asked. "Were you too small?"

Simba shook his head.

"Too slow?" Timon guessed again. "Anxious? Aggressive? Envious? Gassy?"

This almost made Simba smile and laugh at the last part. Timon's determination to guess the answer was a little entertaining. He even started feeling a little better.

At least, until Pumbaa sobbed, "I love the stories where the outcast accidentally eats a relative. Okay, they weren't related, the uncle being a beetle and the nephew being a warthog, but...it's so sad!"

Simba's momentary good feeling evaporated at that remark. Did Timon and Pumbaa somehow know about his part in Mufasa's death? Could they be plotting to turn him over to the pride, forcing him to face the wrath of Sarabi and the lionesses at Pride Rock?

But then he shook off those paranoid thoughts. These two were just being silly as they guessed his origin story. They probably had no idea what had happened back at the Pride Lands. Nevertheless, their lighthearted banter served as a painful reminder of everything he had lost, and he knew he couldn't stay there any longer. With a heavy heart, he turned away and set off on his own once more.

At last, Pumbaa cleared the tears from his eyes, looking almost his perky self again. The two caught up with him again, and Pumbaa asked with concern, "So what'd you do, kid?"

"Something terrible. They'd kill me if I went back," Simba answered. "But I don't wanna talk about it."

"There's gotta be something we can do," Timon said.

The old Simba would have smiled, thanked them, and told them about his adventures. But now, all he wanted was to be away from everyone else. He was a murderer and knew that a murderer should not be near anyone.

"No," Simba snapped, now feeling irritated. "Not unless you can change the past. Now leave me alone."

He started walking away again, but he didn't get far at all. The combination of hunger and thirst made him feel dizzy on his paws. Simba collapsed on one side, and Timon and Pumbaa ran over to help him get back up. Pumbaa gently nudged him to his paws with his snout, and Timon got under Simba and pushed upward.

Once Simba was recovering, Timon slipped out and stood before him. "Listen, kid, uh...what's your name? I can't keep calling you 'kid' all the time."

While Simba didn't want to tell the meerkat his name, he was tired of arguing. "Simba," he said.

"Right. Simba," Timon repeated, and he rolled the name on his tongue for a bit. "Simba, Simba, Simba...cool name."

Pumbaa twitched an ear. "Huh. I was gonna call him Fred, but Simba sounds better. Did you know that Simba also means 'lion' - "

"Anyway, Simba," Timon said as he waved Pumbaa off, "you were right earlier. No one can change the past. That's a pretty tall order, if I'm being honest."

"That there's a biggie," Pumbaa agreed.

Timon nodded and got his attention back on Simba. "But we can change the future," he pressed on. "That's our specialty."

Despite himself, this interested Simba. "You can change the future?"

"We sure can!" Timon declared. "We can change your future, too. It's easy!"

Pumbaa nodded his large head. "He's right. In times like this, it's like what Timon always says: you gotta put your behind in your past!" Then he looked confused as he looked around the desert. "Or behind one of the rocks out here."

"No, no, no!" Timon scolded Pumbaa, who looked embarrassed. "Amateur. Lie down before you hurt yourself." To Simba, he said, "It's 'You have to put your past behind you'. Look, bad things happen, and there's nothing you can do about it, right?"

"Right."

"WRONG!" Timon shouted, getting into Simba's face and poking his nose. "When the world turns its back on you, you turn your back on the world!"

"And only embrace what's next," Pumbaa added helpfully.

Timon nodded. "Exactly. And turn the 'what?' into a 'so what?' You know, take life one day at a time! Purge your mind! Blank it out! It's easy. Pumbaa does it all the time."

"What?"

"See?"

"What?"

"See?"

"What?"

"See?"

"WHAT?!"

Timon chuckled, but Simba only narrowed his eyes. He recalled Mufasa telling him about the Circle of Life, how everything was connected, nothing was forgotten, and everyone was important. However, what Timon and Pumbaa were suggesting sounded the complete opposite. "That's not what I was taught," he remarked.

"Then maybe you need a new lesson," replied Timon, and he cleared his throat. "Repeat after me: Hakuna Matata."

"What?" Simba asked. The new words confused him and made his tongue feel tied.

"Hakuna Matata!" Pumbaa repeated. "It means 'no worries'. Most people get a bigger reaction when we mention it."

Timon nodded in agreement. "Yeah, I thought everyone knew it by now! It's a wonderful phrase, two little words that will change your life!"

That left Simba more baffled than before. How could anyone live without any worries? Everyone has to have some worries, he believed.

"Come on. Let's get to some shade," said Timon. "I'm boiling out here. Come with us, and we'll tell you more about Hakuna Matata."

They started returning to the oasis, and Simba pondered what it meant to have no worries. That sounded much better than constantly worrying as he had for the past few days. Maybe he could give it a try.

Chapter Text

Once the trio returned to the oasis and got into the shade, Timon and Pumbaa had Simba settled down in a bush. It felt a lot more comfortable than the sand, that was for sure. Pumbaa was holding a branch with his tusks and snout and fanning Simba with it, while Timon helped trim his claws. His claws had ached from not being sharpened in a long time.

Simba still felt hungry, but at least he had had some water and decent grooming. Finding food wouldn't probably be that hard now that he felt refreshed and quenched.

"What's that you said earlier?" Simba asked, leaning forward. "Hakuna Matata?"

"Yeah," said Pumbaa. "It's our motto!"

"What's a motto?" Simba pressed on.

"Nothing! What's a motto with you?" Timon joked and laughed. "Boom!"

"Nice!" Pumbaa cheered, laughing before turning back to Simba. "You know, kid, these two words will solve all your problems."

Timon nodded. "That's right. Take Pumbaa here. Why..." He ran over and climbed up to sit atop Pumbaa's head. "When he was a young warthog..."

"When I was a young wart...HOOOOOOOOG!" Pumbaa sang loudly. He sang so loud that the oasis seemed to rumble, and Simba felt his ears ache.

At this, Timon reached down and patted his forehead. "How do you feel?"

"It's an emotional story," replied Pumbaa with a sheepish grin.

"I know. Very nice vocal cords, though."

"Thanks."

Simba pulled himself out of the bushes, interested. Pumbaa seemed like a sensitive soul, even though he looked thick-skinned.

"Well, for starters..." Pumbaa backed away from them, looking behind them as he wriggled his rear. "...let's say I give other animals a wide berth, even back when I was but a wee baby piglet. It hurt when my friends never stood downwind."

"Oh, come on, I resent that," Timon scoffed. "I was always there for you! Layman's terms are," he added with a smirk to Simba, "his aroma can clear the savannah after every meal. In other more gross words, he can stink pretty badly. His farts are bad enough to knock a crocodile out cold."

"I don't know about that, Timon," said Pumbaa, a grin on his snout. "I think the scent's good once someone gets used to it. It announces my presence."

"And boy, does it!" Timon replied, fanning the air with a paw, and the two laughed.

Simba was starting to feel a little better. These two animals were weird, but they were undoubtedly funny. "What about you?" he asked Timon.

"Me? I wasn't always the cool and collected meerkat you see before you, nosiree!" Timon said, having the air of a soldier who had traveled and fought for a long time. "I didn't fit in with the colony I left. I was always collapsing tunnels and goofing off on sentry duty. Almost everyone got mad at me, especially my Uncle Max, who trusted me with it one day when it was my day to be on sentry duty. And to be honest, what kind of life was that? All we did was dig so we could hide, and hide so we could dig. But ever since I left the colony, I've had no worries because I looked beyond what I can see."

Pumbaa perked his head. "Isn't that what the blue-faced monkey told you to do? You told me about the monkey."

Timon scoffed. "Oh, listening to him was like being in the sixties. Do whatever the blue-faced monkey says, and things will be just gravy!"

"What monkey?" Simba asked, curious. He remembered something about a particular blue-faced monkey.

"Never mind that," said Timon. "Anyway, we're fixing to head back home. You're gonna love how it looks."

So Timon and Pumbaa led the way through the oasis's undergrowth. The desert behind them was fading away until it disappeared behind the shadows of the oasis's trees. Due to starving, however, he had started lagging. Pumbaa noticed this, so he and Timon went back to encourage him to keep moving.

While they walked, Timon and Pumbaa started singing. It was about their Hakuna Matata lifestyle, and it was called - of course - "Hakuna Matata." It was their problem-free philosophy, as they sang. Simba couldn't help but smile as they sang and danced, and he eventually joined in. His spirits were starting to go back up, and he sang merrily along with Timon and Pumbaa.

After walking enough, the two friends stopped before a wall of giant leaves. They cleared it away, and Simba stood in awe, looking at what was before him. It was a vast jungle with waterfalls, mountains, and trees. Flowers of every color bloomed here and there, from tiny yellow flowers to giant red ones the size of a rhino. While the Pride Lands were beautiful, they had a more realistic tone, turning green during the wet season and brown during the dry season. But this jungle looked like something out of a dream; it was paradise.

"Well, kid," said Timon with a grin, "welcome to our humble abode."

"You live here?" Simba asked in amazement.

Timon nodded. "Yep. We live wherever we want here."

"Do as we please," Pumbaa added. "Home is where your rump rests."

"And when we get tired of one spot, we just pick another," Timon said.

Simba couldn't stop staring around at the jungle before him. "It's beautiful," he murmured. There may have been something about the Hakuna Matata lifestyle after all.

"You bet it's beautiful," said Pumbaa. "I've got quite the decorating touch."

"Now follow us," said Timon, leading the way down the nearest path. "And don't step in the decorations."

The friends led Simba on through the jungle, down a path they had taken many times before until they arrived at a clearing. A big tree dominated the back of the clearing, its branches and leaves providing much shelter. Several animals were grazing or chatting peacefully, some Simba had seen before and other new species. A galago was clinging to a tree branch, a sengi (more well-known as the elephant shrew) was sniffing the bark for a treat, and two Guinea fowl perched on a branch opposite the galago, gossiping. Below them, antelopes called duiker grazed, an aardvark sniffed the ground, and a bat-eared fox tried getting a grumpy honey badger to play with her.

Timon and Pumbaa called hello to the animals, and they returned it with a happy greeting (even though the honey badger grumbled it). But when Simba came out from behind them to say hello, they shouted in fear and started to take cover while only the honey badger remained, growling.

"Hey, don't worry. He's our new friend Simba. He won't hurt a fly," Timon reassured the other animals as they peeked out. "Simba, meet our neighbors. There's Bhati the bat-eared fox, Daabi the aardvark, and - "

"That, my friend, is a lion!" squawked one of the Guinea fowl. "A lion's in the jungle!"

"What about food? Have you thought about feeding that thing?" squeaked the galago, his large eyes bigger than usual from fright.

Pumbaa came to Simba's defense when he saw the cub flinch. "Yeah. We've got an idea."

"He dooks snorda derocious," remarked the aardvark named Daabi. She had a dopey appearance and a slurred vocabulary to boot.

The fox named Bhati poked her head out from the bushes. "I don't know, Daabi," she told the aardvark as she crept out more. "He looks like a cute little guy."

"What's a lion doing here anyway?" the honey badger snarled, his voice deep and harsh. His black-and-white fur bristled, and he bared his teeth.

Simba was surprised to see a honey badger in the jungle. He had heard about them being ferocious predators, able to face down anything that came their way. Perhaps a honey badger could even face down a whole wildebeest stampede.

"Come on, back up, Bunga. He's just a cub," Pumbaa argued, gently nudging the badger. "Even you can't argue with that."

"Honey badger don't care. Honey badger don't give a darn," growled the badger named Bunga, scooting away from Pumbaa. "Lions ain't nothing but trouble."

Timon tilted his head sideways. "Your species can be dangerous too, Bunga, but you're cool."

Bunga grumbled something, but then he shrugged his broad shoulders. "Eh, I can't argue with that," he said, changing his tune to an arrogant attitude. "We honey badgers are pretty awesome."

Suddenly, Pumbaa uttered an extremely loud burp, echoing in the jungle. "I'm starved!" he declared, and the bat-eared fox named Bhati tried imitating the burp.

"So am I," Bunga said, getting up. "I'm so hungry, I can eat you two. Let's go eat."

"Me too," said Simba. "I'm so hungry, I can eat a whole zebra."

The other animals gasped when they heard Simba say that. One of the Guinea fowl fainted and fell from the branch she roosted on.

Immediately, Timon jumped onto Pumbaa's back while they walked. "Er...oh boy, here we go," he said nervously. "Listen, kid...we're fresh out of zebra."

Simba frowned. His belly was roaring even louder than Mufasa's roar. He didn't care if what he had to eat wasn't his favorite as long as he finally got to eat. "Then what about antelope?" Simba asked, and an antelope flinched and gulped.

"Nuh-uh."

"Hippo?"

"Nope," said Timon with another shake of his head. "Simba, there's one little thing we gotta get straight here. If you live with us, you gotta eat like us."

"And more importantly, not eat us," added the sengi.

Timon looked to the left and held up a paw, signaling Pumbaa to stop. "Speaking of eating, this looks like a good place to rustle up some grub."

They spun to the left and headed towards a log. It looked like it had been rotting for a long time and was broken in some places. Simba was confused. How was this a good place for good food? It wasn't big enough to hide a zebra or an antelope, and it definitely would not hide a hippo.

When they arrived, Pumbaa started using his tusks to tear apart the log. Simba watched the other animals run past him to help Pumbaa break apart the log: Bhati used her teeth, and Bunga and Daabi used their claws. Even the galago joined in, gnawing at the edges with his front teeth. A crack crunched from the log, and they could get the log open easily now.

As Bunga helped peel open the bark from the log, Simba got to see what was under the bark...and wished he hadn't. What looked like hundreds of insects were crawling and creeping around. They were of different colors, shapes, and sizes. Some looked fat and juicy-looking, while others looked thin and crunchy. Some had wings and hard shells, and he was sure a few even had pincers.

"What is it?" Simba asked though he did not want to know.

"Grub," grunted Bunga. "What's it look like?"

Simba grimaced. "Eww. Gross!"

"No, it's not 'gross'! It's the best delicacy in this part of the jungle," Timon grinned. To Simba's disgust, he pulled a fat one out and slurped it up like it was nothing. "See? It tastes like chicken."

The other animals dived right in for the feast. The sengi got a big juicy grub between his teeth, the galago shoved one grub into his mouth at a time, and Bunga shoveled more into his mouth with a paw. Daabi, Bhati, and the Guinea fowl ate as well, even the plant-eating duiker nabbing a grub or two. As for Timon and Pumbaa, they sat at the center of the "table," eating to their hearts' content.

Simba, however, almost felt like throwing up. Whatever appetite he had was slowly going away. All the times he had been picky about eating impala, and now he found it to be tastier than...this.

Now he wasn't sure if the Hakuna Matata lifestyle was for him after all. He couldn't imagine even eating a grub, let alone living off of them. Timon and Pumbaa were friendly, but the other animals didn't seem to like him due to being a lion. More than ever, he wished he was back home at Pride Rock, playing with Nala and nestling closer to his mother. And most of all, he missed his father and wished with all his heart that he was still alive.

Back at the feast, the animals were talking with each other as they ate. Simba flicked his ears to hear them better.

Timon found one grub and grinned. "Ah, these are rare delicacies," he declared and took a bite. "Piquant...with a very pleasant crunch."

"This one's got the nuttiness!" the sengi squeaked.

"These are extra crunchy," mumbled one of the duikers.

"Yeah, I hear they're local," replied Bhati.

"Oh, are they, Bhati?"

"They're from right there."

"Bet I can beat you birds in an eating contest," Bunga challenged the Guinea fowl.

"You're on, muscles!" squawked one of them.

"Slimy yet satisfying!" Pumbaa happily declared, slurping down a big grub. He ate some more and then turned to Simba, who recoiled from seeing him eating grubs up close as he declared, "You'll learn to love 'em!"

Timon wiped his mouth with his paw and smiled up at Simba. "I'm telling ya, kid; this is a great life. We can do anything we want all day long, every single day. There's no rules, no responsibilities, no commitment - ooh!" he exclaimed, digging one up and popping it into his mouth. "The little cream-filled kind!"

"Ooh, there's the one with the very pleasant crunch!" the galago cheered as he munched on. "You're right, Timon. These are great!"

"Yeah, bight," Daabi replied. "Be cream-billed ones are de dest. Banna try done?"

" - and best of all, no worries," Timon continued as if he hadn't been interrupted. He and the other animals stepped aside so that Simba could have a taste. "Well?"

Simba approached the log, picking up a fat grub, and the other animals were watching him keenly. He knew that he wasn't at Pride Rock anymore. Timon, Pumbaa, and the other jungle animals weren't his family and old friends, and the grub was not a zebra. But a life of no worries, rules, or responsibilities did sound good. If he was going to settle into this life, eating all day and relaxing, he had to start somewhere.

"Oh well," he mumbled, bringing the grub closer and ignoring his churning stomach. "Hakuna Matata."

So he tried the grub and put it in his mouth. Only...it didn't taste so bad after all. He swallowed, and it tasted even better going down.

"Slimy yet satisfying," he declared with a smile.

"That's the spirit," Timon said with a wink while the other animals cheered. "Kid, this is the start of a beautiful friendship."

"Yeah! You're gonna love it here," added Pumbaa with a big grin.

And with that, everyone continued their feast. This time, though, Simba joined them.

As Simba grew up in the jungle, far from the Pride Lands, he embraced the freedom to indulge in as many grubs as he wanted and the carefree Hakuna Matata lifestyle. With Timon and Pumbaa as his guardians, he not only learned essential survival skills but also turned the process into joyful singing and playful games. Over time, Simba overcame the sorrow of his father's passing, basking in the joy of life.

Each day, he joyfully interacted with the other jungle animals, who now welcomed him as an old friend. No longer afraid, they eagerly engaged with Simba. Bunga the honey badger even challenged him to friendly wrestling matches, and the other animals soon admired Simba for his upbeat personality, unaware of his tragic history. Whether they sought his company for play or needed assistance, Simba was always there for them. He fearlessly protected his friends from predators, earning their gratitude.

As Timon aptly remarked, it was indeed a good life. Simba spent his days feasting, napping, frolicking, and simply reveling in the freedom from rules, responsibilities, and worries.

Chapter Text

Nala rested her head on her paws, looking around the desolate wasteland with disgust and despair. Over the years, she had grown up knowing nothing but hunger, thirst, and misery, even during times of plenty. While she grew up to be a skilled huntress, her fur coat was dull, some of her ribs were starting to show under that dull coat, and her teal eyes no longer held laughter.

Life at the Pride Lands had become miserable since Scar took over as king. Where there was once fresh greenery and plentiful watering holes, there was now dust and bones. Animals, whether predator or prey, had started abandoning this once-fertile land to move on to better grazing grounds. Those who stayed behind risked being hunted down by the army of hyenas led by Shenzi, and it was usually done without mercy. The Pride Lands looked even more like an elephant graveyard, a shadowy land.

And it was all because of Scar. Nala never realized she could hate anyone in her life, but Scar certainly did that. Scar was a terrible and selfish creature, not caring if the lions in his pride were on the brink of starvation. Things quickly spiraled downhill once Scar became king, and it got even worse once the dry season came around. He had torn down everything that Mufasa and the kings before him had built up. He even allowed the hyenas to overhunt their prey and sometimes joined them in their poaching.

If Simba were here, Nala thought not for the first time, then he would take his place as king and stop Scar. Indeed, she wished more than ever that her best friend was by her side again, just as they had always been. She even believed that he was still out there, still alive. Even the other lionesses prayed as well, praying that the great kings were watching over them to help them out of this nightmare.

Yet the pride's hope in the great kings started to vanish. Indeed, some lionesses even gave up all belief in the great kings, demanding why they weren't doing anything if they loved their descendants. Nala herself nearly felt it too, but she gave up hope that Simba would be alive. Right now, she wanted to go out there and find someone - or at least something - to help the pride, and her wish to stop Scar fueled her dream to do so. But still, life around them got more brutal, and even Sarabi struggled to inspire hope.

"Nala." Her mother, Sarafina, was looking at her with concern. She was trying to calm down a squealing cub they were babysitting, a cub that bore almost the exact resemblance to Scar except with paler fur. "Come sit in the shade with us. It's too hot to stay out there."

Nala sighed and padded over to join them. The lionesses tried to avoid the heat of the dry season sun, their coats dull and their eyes full of hopelessness.

In the shelter of the cave, the flapping of wings caught the lionesses' attention. Zazu swooped down and landed in front of Sarabi, just as he had done for Mufasa. His refusal to report to Scar demonstrated his unwavering loyalty to the queen, as he now reported only to Sarabi. Despite Scar's decree to send him away during the day and allow him to return only at night, Zazu remained undeterred in his dedication to Sarabi.

"Hey, Zazu," Nala greeted the hornbill as he approached. "Where have you been?"

"I apologize for the delay, Nala. I hurried as fast as my wings could carry me," Zazu responded with a slight bow. He then turned to Sarabi, who acknowledged him with a nod.

"The morning report, Zazu," Sarabi commanded.

"Yes, Your Majesty," Zazu replied, standing tall. "The Pride Lands are in grave danger. The hyenas are driving off the last of the herds. Without them, what will you lionesses and your cubs eat?"

Sarabi was touched by her late mate's advisor's concern for the well-being of the royal family and what remained of it. "We'll manage," she reassured him. "For now, are you all right?"

What he was about to say next was interrupted by a terrible cackle. Scar and his hyenas had returned from their hunt, carrying a dead antelope between them. Their muzzles were utterly coated with blood as if they had tortured the poor antelope before they killed it. When the hyenas spotted Zazu, their eyes glimmered.

"The bird's back!" Azizi announced.

"Get him!" Kamari shouted.

They darted over to snatch up the hornbill as their snack. Luckily for everyone else, Zazu took to the air, nearly avoiding their snapping teeth.

"Don't come back here until sundown unless you wanna get eaten!" Kamari shouted up to Zazu as the majordomo took off.

The lionesses glared at the hyenas for this, and Sarafina swept her tail over young Nuka to shield him. But they said nothing as Scar sauntered by, green eyes glinting.

"Good morning, ladies," he said with a smarmy grin. To his hyenas, he said, "Take the antelope to my den; I'll eat it by myself later. And bring the buffalo to the edge of Pride Rock for Zira and me."

Ignoring the dull and lifeless eyes of the lionesses on him, he strolled away. While they were thin and starving, he was more well-fed, even more so than when Mufasa was king. But it came at a cost: Scar had gotten greedy when hunting, taking more prey than he should.

"I can't stand it anymore, Sarabi," Nala murmured once Scar and the hyenas were away, standing on her paws. "We have to do something. We have to fight."

To her utmost shock, Sarabi only shook her head. "No, Nala. Scar is our king."

Nala stepped away from her, shocked at this statement. "But you're the queen! You're our queen! We should fight back before it's too late. If we can't fight, we can at least leave!"

"While I do not like Scar being king, we must stay together and protect what's left of this land," Sarabi told Nala, her eyes tired. "The Pride Lands have been our home for generations. We will not abandon our home."

"But this isn't the home I remember," Nala responded, turning her attention back to the desolate land. "This isn't the Pride Lands I used to know."

Sarabi stepped forward and rested her nose on the younger lioness's head. "Don't worry, Nala. Our time will come. Just be patient."

"Easy for you to say," Nala muttered rebelliously, though she kept it out of earshot. Sarabi was an older and wiser lioness, having all the patience that she herself had not learned. But Nala herself wanted to get off of her paws and do something, anything, to save her home.

"Hey, you! Sarabi!" Shenzi stalked forward, eyes gleaming as she glared at Sarabi. The other hyenas in her army flanked her. "Scar's wantin' to talk to you."

Sarabi sighed. "Tell him I'll talk to him later," she said, turning away from the scavengers.

But as soon as she started to walk away, hyenas darted over and blocked her way. "Nah, I think he wants to talk now," growled Shenzi. "And if you're goin' too slow, you better move faster."

"No, I think you should've said, 'You better Mufasa!'" Banzai quipped.

"I get it!" Azizi cackled along with Ed, sidling up to Kamari. "It's like 'move faster' only..."

"Yeah, we get it," Kamari grumbled. He shoved Azizi away and snapped, "And what did I say for the hundredth time?"

Sarabi growled, yet she couldn't pounce on them. She hated it when they used Mufasa's name like that as a joke. But all she did was bow her head and nod. There was no point in arguing with the hyenas; Scar always insisted that they were right in everything, and they had to accommodate them or be accused of prejudice. So much for "all animals are equal," she believed.

"Don't go with them," Nala pleaded.

"I am neither afraid of Scar nor the hyenas," Sarabi replied coolly. "I will be back."

Nala watched as the hyenas escorted Sarabi away. Her fur bristled, and her claws threatened to slide out and scrape the rock beneath her paws. She wasn't afraid of Scar or his hyenas, but she was certainly scared of what they would do to the queen of the Pride Lands.

...

Scar had forced the lionesses and their cubs to spend most of their time in the open while he and the hyenas occupied the inside of Pride Rock. But this time, Scar wanted to eat outside, perhaps—in Sarabi's opinion—to show off how much he could eat.

As Sarabi approached the king as he sat at the edge of Pride Rock, her nose wrinkled at the smell of caked blood. His back to her and his head bent, Scar was helping himself to the buffalo that the lionesses had killed, munching away. While the other lionesses watched from far away, starving and licking their chops, Scar only kept eating and ignored their hungry gazes. Shenzi and her hyenas stepped back to let Sarabi walk ahead and have her meeting with the current king.

"I'm here, Scar," Sarabi growled. "What do you want?"

Scar lifted his head from the kill, along with a particular lioness. This made Sarabi want to bare her teeth in anger. It was Zira, having been established as Scar's favorite lioness due to following every command he had made, never questioning his cruel ways. She hadn't always been friendly, but for some odd reason, she liked having Scar in charge of the pride and quickly sided with him on his opinions. It was small wonder that Scar had chosen her as his mate, though she had produced a sickly son in the process.

"Zira," growled Scar, rising from the carcass. He licked his lips, his muzzle coated in buffalo blood. "You may pick up anything else that the lionesses caught. Just make sure that weak brat of yours gets something to eat."

"But Nuka is your son, is he not?" Sarabi asked, concerned for her nephew. Zira scoffed, and Sarabi believed she blamed Nuka himself - a young cub - for being born during a terrible time.

Scar shook his head. "No. Any cub of my blood that is weak will never be mine. There is no chance that he'll be king after me."

Sarabi's head throbbed with the weight of memories; this all sounded too familiar. Scar had just echoed the same sentiments Ahadi had shared with him. Yet, from Sarabi's perspective, Ahadi had treated both his sons fairly, only disciplining Scar more as his behavior grew increasingly rebellious.

"That's quite hypocritical, isn't it?" Sarabi challenged. "You claim your father treated you poorly, yet you're treating your own son the same way. Aren't you just practicing what you've called Ahadi out for doing?"

A low growl rumbled from Scar, his lips curling to reveal sharp fangs. Zira gave him a reassuring lick on the cheek before turning her gaze to Sarabi. "Shame on you, Sarabi, for upsetting your king. Show some respect and apologize," she reprimanded, a self-satisfied smirk on her face. "Scar is to be revered at all times and never questioned. Learn your place."

Instead of backing down, Sarabi's fury only grew, her own fangs bared in response to Zira. She was weary of Zira's constant praise for Scar's ambition, and her negligence toward Nuka only fueled Sarabi's anger. How dare Zira speak of shame while willingly aiding Scar in his destructive plans? Before a brawl could erupt, Scar stepped in between them.

"Ladies, ladies...that's enough," the king interjected. "Zira, go and find something to feed that cub of yours. If you want him to survive, you'd better fatten him up."

Zira nodded. "Of course, my dear."

And with that, Zira gave Sarabi a shove and a sneer as she passed. You traitor, Sarabi thought angrily before the other lioness vanished.

"Sarabi, your timing couldn't have been more perfect," purred Scar. He gestured for her to come closer. "Do come over. I won't bite. And speaking of bite..." With a sly smile, he moved aside, revealing the buffalo she and her lionesses had worked so hard to bring down. The carcass lay there like a cruel display of power. "Care for a taste? There's plenty to go around."

Sarabi took in the scene around her. Pride Rock was littered with bones, and a cloud of flies buzzed in the air. The stench was overpowering, enough to overpower any creature, and the sight of it all starkly contrasted with the usual reverence for a fallen animal. Usually, the lions would bury the bones as a sign of respect, but under Scar's rule, the bones were callously left scattered about, as if waiting for someone else to clean up the mess.

"You're overhunting, Scar," Sarabi stated, her voice steady and composed.

"Overhunting is such a strong word," Scar smirked. "Let's say that I've simply perfected the kill with the help of the hyenas."

Sarabi couldn't contain her frustration. "Perfected? You're destroying the Pride Lands! You're disrupting the Circle of Life!"

Scar merely laughed in response. "Don't you see?" he taunted. "There is no one who can challenge us. Together, we can take whatever we want. And if it means disregarding the Circle of Life you hold in such high regard, then so be it."

Sarabi realized that arguing with Scar would likely be futile. She cut to the chase. "There's another reason you invited me here when you just said 'we,'" Sarabi pressed on. "Let's get it over with."

Scar's lips twisted into a smile, but something about it shivered down Sarabi's spine. "Long ago, Mufasa and I came to you, asking for your hand in marriage. But you chose Mufasa over me," Scar stated, his voice conveying both bitterness and desperation.

Sarabi's eyes narrowed. "Mufasa and I loved each other," she replied firmly. This wasn't the first time Scar had tried to convince her to be his queen, and each time, her response remained unchanged. "And your treatment of Sarafina didn't help your case either."

"Yet, I am the king now," Scar asserted, dismissing Sarabi's words. "I am your king. It's time you stopped being so selfish and began to consider the future. Our future."

Far from impressing her, this statement only stoked Sarabi's anger. "You have no right to call anyone selfish," she retorted sharply, making no effort to conceal her disdain. "And what about Zira? She is your mate and the mother of your cub."

If Scar was affected by Sarabi's stinging words, he showed no sign of it. "You wield considerable influence over the other lionesses," he coaxed, adopting a more persuasive tone. "As long as you reject me, they will continue to defy me. As your king, I demand that you do as I say. Take your place by my side, and we shall feast together!"

Sarabi eyed the carcass of the buffalo that Scar and Zira had devoured. Hunger gnawed at her stomach, and the desperate plight of the lionesses weighed heavily on her mind. She knew there was little chance Scar would willingly share the precious food.

A chilling idea crept into her thoughts: she could accept Scar's proposal to become his queen. It would mean sacrificing herself, but it might be the only way to save the pride from starvation. Perhaps she could even use her influence as his mate to steer him towards a better path.

Yet, just as quickly as the idea entered her mind, she banished it. There was no way she would ever agree to such a terrible demand.

"Never, Scar," she snarled. "I will never be your queen!"

Scar stood tall on his paws, peering down at Sarabi. Her reaction did not catch him off guard, but his following words left her astonished. "From now on, the hyenas will have first dibs on fresh kills. This means that the lionesses and cubs will have to wait their turn."

Sarabi's fur bristled along her spine. "You can't seriously prioritize them over our pride. They're acting like repulsive scavengers."

"Here at Pride Rock, all animals are considered equal... but some are more equal than others. I will not tolerate any derogatory remarks about my followers. There is no place in the pride for such prejudice," Scar scolded her, a chilling smirk on his face. "As for your disobedience and defiance, I will not tolerate it for much longer. I don't demand your loyalty, only your obedience."

He began to walk away, adding with a sneer, "Wait for your turn to eat. And remember, my dear Sarabi: They don't leave much behind."

As he stepped aside, the buffalo that he had promised her was claimed by Shenzi's followers instead. With a signal from Scar, the hyenas eagerly descended upon the carcass, tearing into it with glee. Scar dismissed Sarabi, and she departed with a heavy heart, overwhelmed by shame and horror.

What have I done?

Chapter Text

Back in the Hakuna Matata jungle, Simba grew up happy and carefree, loving his new life. Every day was one long party, and life couldn't get any better than this. His days were spent playing, eating, and hanging out with his jungle friends. And his nights were spent talking with his friends and sleeping. Hakuna Matata seemed to have that effect on the jungle; he was sure even frogs couldn't go without croaking, "Hakuna Matata!"

Simba had also grown in size, resembling his father more than anything. He had inherited his father's reddish mane, though it had become less refined and more scruffy. Years of running, climbing, and pouncing provided him with the necessary exercise. As for what to eat, he did eat grubs like the other jungle animals, but when Timon and Pumbaa weren't missing him, he would go out to the desert and catch prey...the biggest being the size of a sheep.

Timon and Pumbaa did their best to teach him how to go through life; even Bunga helped him learn how to fight, serving as a tough and crafty teacher despite being smaller. Timon taught him about life in the jungle, and Pumbaa was his teacher when it came to stealth. Despite his goofy appearance, the warthog was a surprisingly good hunter, sneaking up on buzzards for their eggs. With a smile, Simba remembered the first time Pumbaa brought him egg-hunting.

At first, Simba didn't heed Pumbaa's training and charged at the first buzzards, confident that he had this under control. But the buzzards had taken off, leaving a disappointed Simba behind on the ground.

"They're loud and ugly, but they're not stupid," Pumbaa had said. "You just have to catch them off guard."

After that, Simba decided to heed Pumbaa's advice some more. Pumbaa had scared the buzzards away by screaming, as well as farting by accident, making the buzzards abandon an egg. So the next time the buzzards came back, Simba tried the same, except instead of a fart, he had learned that his growl was getting deeper. This time, the buzzards were scared off, leaving two giant white eggs behind.

"Good job," Pumbaa had said when Simba got it right this time. "We hit the jackpot. Now let's go home."

Home. Home now meant the clearing that he shared with the other animals, rather than Pride Rock. Simba was more than happy to call this place home as well.

...

It was a warm and dry morning in the jungle, alive with the sound of chirping birds. The trees' leaves and branches partially blocked the sun, leaving the temperature comfortable. Water never seemed to run out in this jungle, and the trees stayed green all year round. Any animal that wanted to pass through did with little to no trouble, and those who wished to remain stayed.

A bongo antelope was grazing near the river's edge, flicking his tail. It had been a peaceful morning for him, and he liked it that way. He thought he heard something slowly approaching him from the bushes on the other side of the river. When he was sure that there was nothing, he began to drink from the river, though he still kept his eyes peeled.

Suddenly, a lion burst out from the undergrowth, jumping across the river and growling with fangs bared. The bongo screamed in terror and started to run off. But when the lion didn't chase him, he looked back. It was just Simba, now a fully-grown lion in the flesh. He jumped up and down on his hind legs, soaking his front paws in the shallow water and batting at passing butterflies.

"Ha! I'm gonna get you! I'm gonna get you!" Simba cheered like a cub, trying to swat at the butterflies. "Well, I almost got you. I'll catch you later!" He turned around and noticed the bongo standing there, and he gave the antelope a grin. "Hey there. Did you see that? I almost caught a butterfly!"

"Simba?" The bongo sighed with relief. "Whew! It's just you. I'm glad it's you and not a real lion."

Simba perked his ears, curious.

"Uh," the bongo stammered, realizing his mistake, "I don't mean to say you're not real. I mean, you are real. It's just..."

More silence followed. Simba and the bongo stared at each other.

"...yeah, I'm gonna go," said the bongo. "Nice seeing you, Simba."

He sprang away across the river and through the tall grass. In fact, the bongo was running faster than Simba had anticipated.

"Hey, where are you going?" Simba called after the antelope. "You wanna get some grubs?"

But the bongo did not reply, for he had disappeared from sight. Simba frowned. He didn't even get a chance to ask the antelope to have a snail-eating contest; he had already beaten Timon and wanted to try it on someone else. "What's up with that guy?" he wondered aloud.

Then again, Simba had seen how the antelope looked at him, and he knew the answer. The other animals in the jungle had been scared of him when he was a cub, but they had begun to get used to him over the years. The bush baby and the sengi were no longer scared of a yawn turned into a roar, sharpening his claws on a tree no longer frightened the Guinea fowl into squawking for their lives, and baring his teeth now invited Bunga to tussle with him playfully. Yet moments like what had happened with the bongo reminded him that he was still a lion at heart.

Even more apparent was how much he had grown up. He was definitely the biggest animal in the jungle now, even though he was not the tallest (that belonged to some of the antelope). Like his father Mufasa, Simba had a reddish brown mane around his neck, though his mane was not as refined and groomed as Mufasa's. His teeth and claws had grown sharper due to scratching and biting branches and bark to sharpen them.

Not far away, Timon and Pumbaa had been observing Simba. They had witnessed the encounter between their lion friend and the bongo and decided to offer their assistance in their own unique way.

"Hey, can I be real with you for a second?" Timon started, strolling up to Simba. "I don't wanna sound like a jerk, but...that guy's prey. And a guy like him isn't going to want to hang out with a carnivore like you."

"You guys are always with me," Simba retorted, walking with them towards their favorite termite picnic. He used to have to look down at Timon when they talked, but now that he was older and larger, he could even look down at Pumbaa. "You're all cool with me. What's the deal?"

Timon energetically leaped onto Pumbaa's head as they strolled through the lush jungle, settling in for the rest of the journey in this peculiar manner. "You see, kid...in nature, there's a delicate balance," he remarked.

This prompted Simba to furrow his brow as memories of Mufasa's teachings flooded his mind. It had been a while since he had thought about his father or the valuable lessons he had imparted. One particular lesson stood out, which had stayed with him since the day he was shown the kingdom.

"Oh, the Circle of Life," Simba responded, shaking off the melancholy feeling. "I'm familiar with that."

To Simba's surprise, Timon and Pumbaa burst into hearty laughter. Confused, Simba questioned whether they truly understood the concept of the Circle of Life. Upon reaching the termite mounds, where various jungle creatures had assembled, a conversation ensued.

"What circle? There's no circle of life," Timon proclaimed between laughs, using his claws to unearth some grubs from the termite mound. "I don't know where you got the circle from. In fact, it's quite the opposite."

"Yeah," chimed in Pumbaa. "And our lives are all the better for it."

Timon shifted his attention from his meal, glancing down at Simba and Pumbaa. "You see...there's a straight line. It's the beginning of the Line of Meaningless Indifference. And as our pal Pumbaa here is about to demonstrate," he said, nodding and affectionately patting Pumbaa's snout, "we all run on it with paralyzing fear."

With a loud cry, Pumbaa charged toward a nearby tree, colliding with it and startling the Guinea fowl foraging at its base. The agitated Guinea fowl squawked and fluttered up to a low branch, casting a reproachful glance at Pumbaa, who appeared unfazed despite bumping his snout against the tree trunk.

"See? That's what life is," remarked Timon, ensuring his point was effectively conveyed. "It's a meaningless line."

"Of indifference," Pumbaa added, soothing his snout with a hoof. "We all journey from the start of the line to the end. And eventually, we'll reach the end. That's about it."

Timon nodded in agreement. "Exactly, buddy. You can simply...do your own thing and look out for yourself, as your line won't impact anyone else. You're alive, and then you're not. Just like this little guy," he added, taking a bite of a plump grub.

"You guys sure it's not a circle?" Simba asked, munching on a few grubs. He was pretty sure it was. With a deep breath, he hauled himself up the termite mound and murmured the same words his father had told him: "We're all connected in the great Circle of Life."

But that just confused the duo even more. "You're not making any sense!" Pumbaa cried. "A circle would mean that what I did matters to everyone else. Like when I hit that tree. That would have to matter to Bunga or Daabi or Bhati - "

"Or the grubs we're eating. Either way, it's ridiculous. Our business is ours," Timon added, dismissively waving a paw.

"And if you keep going in circles, that would make doing whatever you wanted not cool," added Pumbaa.

Timon nodded again. "Exactly. In simple terms, life is meaningless," he concluded. "That's why you gotta look after yourself. You do you. But that's enough of that." He dusted his paws, wiping away any dirt that had gotten on them. "Today, Simba, we're entrusting you to decide what we can all do today. This is important."

"Think about it, buddy," Pumbaa urged. "Remember all you learned."

Simba climbed up to the top of the termite mound, thinking it over. Now that his friends said it, following a line did sound more reasonable than following a circle. In a circle, there was too much worrying; on the other hand, a line just leads to not much worrying.

When Simba didn't answer immediately, Timon asked, "Well? What do you want to do today?"

Up to this point, there had been no guessing as to what they would do. "Absolutely nothing?" Simba asked.

The duo's eyes flashed, and they grinned at each other. He was finally getting it, they thought happily.

The other animals seemed to join in, watching and waiting as Simba perched at the termite mound. "Go on, Simba," Bhati called out. "So the straight line leads to..."

"Absolutely nothing!" cried Simba with the attitude of a playful cub. And with a push of his powerful front paws, he smashed open the termite mound.

The other animals cheered happily as the grubs and termites fell to the ground. As one, they ran over to gobble up the wriggling treats. Simba smiled before running over to join them, lapping some up with his tongue. At least a line of not caring much sounded better than a circle of caring too much.

...

The jungle was very peaceful at night. A day of doing nothing could take a lot out of someone, and it was time to top it off with more nothing. So Simba rested with Timon, Pumbaa, and Bunga in the middle of their clearing, relaxing under the stars as they appeared in the night sky. Not much sound came from the jungle at night, nothing except night bird noises and crickets chirping.

And then, out of nowhere, Simba let out an enormous belch.

"Whoa!" Timon remarked with a chuckle. "Nice one, Simba."

"Thanks," Simba said with a grin. "Man, I'm stuffed. Must've been the termites."

"Or the crickets," Pumbaa added. "I ate like a pig!"

Simba snickered. "Pumbaa, you are a pig."

"That ain't nothing," Bunga added with a smirk. "Check this out."

He thumped his chest with a paw and let out an enormous belch. It wasn't as loud as Simba's, but it was still impressive. Simba and Pumbaa congratulated the badger, while Timon muttered with a grin, "Sheesh, and it's no wonder I sleep underground."

They spent a few minutes playfully arguing about who could burp the loudest before deciding just to watch the stars. All four animals sighed deeply and leaned against the cooling grass, looking up at the sky.

"Hey, Timon," Pumbaa said, looking around at the meerkat. "You ever wonder what those sparkly dots are up there?"

Timon scoffed softly. "Pumbaa, I don't wonder; I know."

"Oh." Pumbaa blinked and gave Bunga a look, which was returned by a scoff. "What are they?"

"They're fireflies," Timon guessed, gesturing to the sky. "Fireflies that got stuck up on that big bluish-black thing."

Pumbaa nodded in understanding. "Oh...gee. Guess that makes sense. I always thought they were balls of gas burning billions of miles away."

This time, Timon rolled his eyes. "Everything comes back to gas with you, doesn't it? Hey, Bunga, what do you think they are?"

"Grubs," was all Bunga grunted. He had found some grubs crawling under the log he was resting on before digging in.

Then, three pairs of eyes darted to the one who did not comment: Simba. He wasn't sure how to respond to all this, which sounded almost similar to what Mufasa had told him years ago.

"What do you think they are, Simba?" Timon questioned the lion.

"Well..." Simba stalled a bit before shaking his head. "I don't know."

At this, the three others sat up and asked him to, Pumbaa pleading. They even told him that they had already guessed theirs.

Finally, Simba gave his response, keeping his eyes on the stars. "Somebody once told me that the great kings of the past are up there, watching over us."

"Really?" Pumbaa asked. His tone, to some, could mean either curiosity or teasing.

"You mean a bunch of royal dead guys are watching us?" Timon added.

And then, he, Pumbaa, and Bunga started laughing. Their laughs split the night, drowning out the cricket noises. Timon rolled around, Pumbaa clutched his sides, and Bunga banged the ground with a paw as they all laughed. Only Simba didn't join in this time.

"That's a good one!" Pumba chortled. "That's insane!"

"You ain't kidding! Who told you something like that, Simba? What kind of mook made that up?" Timon rasped from the laughing. "Seriously, buddy, be real! Why would those 'kings' want us? We're outcasts!"

"Yeah...it's pretty dumb, huh?" Simba replied with a weak chuckle.

Still, he couldn't help but feel sad. He knew that Timon, Pumbaa, and Bunga meant no offense or harm, but this just stirred up bad memories of the life he had left behind and whom he left behind.

But while Bunga went back to eating, Timon and Pumbaa weren't finished. What they said next even bristled his fur.

"Royal dead guys! Hopefully, they don't fall out of the sky!" Timon cackled, slapping his knee. "Hold on, Your Majesty!"

"Yeah, hold on! Don't let go now!" Pumbaa chortled.

That was when Simba gave them a snarl, shutting them up as they stared at him with wide eyes. He usually liked their antics, but this was one that he didn't like at all, especially since it brought up his past. It reminded him of one time when Timon almost fell over a waterfall, with Simba being too paralyzed with horror to save him. He had saved Timon, but the event still rattled him; it had reminded him of how Mufasa died.

With a sigh, Simba rolled onto his paws and left the clearing. "Sorry, guys. I gotta go," he called over his shoulder. "I'm gonna go get some grubs or something."

After Simba left, Timon and Pumbaa exchanged uneasy looks, the meerkat feeling guilty and the warthog looking confused. "Was it something I said?" Timon questioned.

"Yeah, it was. Both of you," Bunga growled. The badger paused from his honeycomb and bee larvae feast, chuckling at their expressions. "Hey, I'm not blaming you for that. That was one heck of a show you put on."

This time, Timon and Pumbaa shared guilty glances. They hadn't intended to upset Simba, and Bunga's comment only made them feel worse. "Gee...we didn't mean to hurt his feelings," Timon said. "We just wanted to have some fun."

"How about we make it up to him tomorrow?" Pumbaa suggested. "We'll venture into the jungle and hunt for his favorite treats."

"I have a better idea than that," Timon declared. "Tomorrow, we'll venture into the jungle and hunt for his favorite treats."

Pumbaa grunted, feeling puzzled by Timon taking credit for his idea, but he simply nodded. That was the plan for tomorrow: a search for Simba's beloved grubs.

Meanwhile, Simba arrived at the jungle's edge, looking at the night sky. He wasn't angry at Timon and Pumbaa for what they said, and he wasn't angry at himself. If he was being honest...he felt sad. Memories of his life at Pride Rock, from playing with Nala to messing with Zazu and spending time with his parents, had kept him from fully enjoying the Hakuna Matata lifestyle. Yet everyone at Pride Rock would probably forget about him anyway, especially since Sarabi would still reign as queen. The lionesses would be hunting, Zazu would report the news to his mother, Scar would sulk as usual, and Nala would have moved on to a new playmate.

Simba was sure that Mufasa's voice was only faintly rattling at the back of his mind. While Timon and Pumbaa were happy to do nothing all day, the voice kept telling Simba that he had to get up and do something. Yet he wasn't sure what to do. He wanted Mufasa to somehow appear beside him to advise and comfort him.

You promised you'd be there, Dad, whenever I needed you, Simba thought, feeling his eyes prickle with tears. I need to hear your voice. One word, just a word, will do.

But no one answered him. Simba groaned with disappointment and wiped the tears away with a paw. It was nothing, after all. The great kings of the past weren't real. They were just fireflies stuck up on a big bluish-black nothing.

With a sigh, Simba flopped down onto the ledge, his weight blowing milkweed floss away to the wind.

…

Rafiki sat at the highest branch of his baobab tree, watching the land below him turn to ruin. Dark days were indeed upon the Pride Lands, and the land suffered from a lack of water, food, and faith. Sadly, there was nothing he could do about it. When he refused to allow Scar to dismantle the Pride Lands' borders, Scar banished him from Pride Rock and then dismantled the borders anyway. Thus, he could do nothing but watch as Scar's policies brought the Pride Lands down to its knees.

The wind ruffled Rafiki's dark gray fur and light gray beard; however, the hot wind brought no relief in the dry season. But something felt odd about the wind, as if the spirits were telling him something. Rafiki reached a hand up and snatched some milkweed floss from the wind, and then he sniffed them. His hunch was right; this was an odd but familiar feeling. It was no ordinary milkweed floss.

Rafiki was struck by a sudden burst of inspiration. He leaped down from his perch and made his way to the center of the baobab tree, where he conducted his mysterious work. Grabbing an old tortoise shell, he began to mix herbs and remedies, dropping the floss into it. As he rolled the ingredients together, he hummed to himself and decided to grab a bite. "A little snack never hurt anybody," he told himself, pulling over a fruit and splitting it open. While casually eating, he examined the strange pattern, trying to discern its meaning.

Suddenly, his eyes widened as the sign became clearer. Rafiki looked closer at the floss, feeling a sense of disbelief. However, when he looked up and strained his eyes on the painting of Simba, everything fell into place. "Simba?" he asked himself in amazement.

The sign was now unmistakable. That was why the wind blew the floss over; the great kings of the past were telling him something: good news. His heart swelled with joy when he realized the truth.

"He's alive..." Rafiki rasped, joy and hope starting to revitalize his old bones. "He's alive! By the kings of the past, he lives!"

He whooped and hollered with joy as he ran to dip his fingers in reddish paint before running back to the painting of Simba. With loud laughter of joy and tears streaming down his cheeks, he painted a new addition to the painting: a mane.

"It is time," Rafiki declared. He lifted his eyes to the blue sky and prayed, "Thank you, spirits! Simba lives! Bless my journey to find him and bring him home!"

With that, he started to gather traveling herbs and his staff, preparing for his journey. He had a missing prince to find.

Chapter Text

Nala stood watching as the lionesses of Pride Rock slept peacefully. In the shadows of the cave, Sarafina comforted young Nuka, who seemed more at ease with her than with his own parents. Despite their gaunt appearance, they looked content in their slumber. Nala felt tears welling up in her eyes at the sight. Even their close friends—the cubs they had grown up with—had been torn apart: her female friends, Kula and Tama, were forced to become Scar's hunters, while the males, Chumvi, Ni, Malka, and Tojo, were expelled from the pride upon reaching adulthood, something that usually happened to lions in other parts of Africa.

Every day, the lionesses endured hardship. Scar had kept his promise to feed the hyenas first, leaving the lionesses and cubs with only scraps. The little food they found was always given to the cubs first. Scar being stripped of his role as the head of the Lion Guard years ago only worsened the situation. If he still possessed the Roar of the Elders, he could have used it to summon rain and heal the land, but he couldn't. And even if he could, he wouldn't.

That night, Nala decided to leave Pride Rock in search of help. Sarabi, awake with pain in her eyes, observed the devastating impact of Scar and the hyenas. The Pride Lands were eerily quiet that night. No birds were chirping, no crickets singing, not even the rumbling of an elephant. It seemed that life was vanishing from the Pride Lands. The only inhabitants left were the lions, hyenas, Zazu, and a few other brave souls who dared to call this place home.

Nala walked up to stand beside Sarabi, who looked around at her. "Are you sure there is no convincing you to stay, Nala?" she whispered to the younger lioness.

With a nod, Nala responded, "I have to find help for us, Sarabi. There's no use in waiting anymore."

The older lioness nodded. "I know you do," she murmured. "I just wish for you to be careful."

"And tell Mom not to worry," Nala whispered, her gaze sweeping over to the sleeping Sarafina and Nuka. "I'll be fine. And I'll be back with help soon, I promise."

Sarabi leaned forward and pressed her nose against Nala's forehead again. This time, she was praying. Nala closed her eyes and prayed with the queen. She prayed to the great kings to give her strength and help her find anyone who could aid the pride in saving their home.

"Take this prayer with you, and let it be your guide," Sarabi declared, pulling away from Nala. "Good luck, Nala. May the kings of the past watch over you and guide you. And where the journey may lead you, always remember your pride."

Nala nodded and pressed her muzzle against Sarabi's shoulder. Once Sarabi headed back into the cave, Nala padded past her toward her mission to freedom.

There was one major problem as she went out, however: Scar and his hyenas patrolled Pride Rock every night. When Mufasa was alive and the king, no one needed to be monitored. They were free lions, relaxed by day and night on good days. But now that Scar was king, hyenas constantly roamed Pride Rock, searching for troublemakers or traitors to Scar. This had caused the lionesses to huddle out of the earshot of Scar and his army as they whispered their opinions of him. And on this night, Scar and a couple of hyenas were making their rounds at the bottom of the great rock mass.

Nala crouched in a clump of dead bushes, praying he wouldn't catch her scent. Hyenas had pretty good senses of smell, about as strong as a rhino's sense of smell. She pressed herself into the dirt, hoping to get some of it on her skin to cover her scent. She was finishing up when Scar and his five most trusted hyenas came strolling by, their smell foul with the stench of rotting meat.

"Scar, we gotta work out another plan," Shenzi was telling Scar. "It's gettin' ugly out there."

"There's no food," chimed in Banzai.

"No water," Shenzi pressed on as if Banzai hadn't interrupted.

"No food!" Banzai said again.

"Everyone's on edge right now," added Kamari.

"No food!" Azizi chimed in.

"And the worst part? There ain't no stinkin' entrees!" added Banzai.

"Yeah, you promised us we'd have food for life," said Shenzi, a snarl forming on her muzzle. "All the herds have run off. So what're you gonna do about it, boss?"

"Nothing," replied Scar. He sounded impatient, as if he didn't want to stand around and fix the problem plaguing everyone. "After all, it's the lionesses' job to hunt."

"Yeah, but they won't go hunt," Banzai piped up.

"Then eat Zazu," said Scar dismissively. "He may be tough and gamey, but you only need a little garnish."

The hyenas shared a mutual glare, unimpressed by Scar's suggestion.

Suddenly, Scar stopped right in front of the bush. His green eyes narrowed, and he sniffed once or twice. A sinister snarl formed on his muzzle, and his hyenas lined up alongside him, yipping and cackling. He growled at them, and the hyenas chittered back before they drew nearer to her hiding place. Nala prepared for them all to pounce, to find her, and attack her.

But before Scar could get closer, Zazu suddenly flew in front of him. The hornbill must have seen Nala trying to sneak away, for he was now holding out his wings as if protecting her from Scar's view. "Lovely night, Sire!" he said with a weak chuckle. "What a marvelous night for taking a walk and all that."

Scar rolled his green eyes. "What do you want, Zazu? I need to finish monitoring Pride Rock and everyone who lives here. Make it quick."

While Nala slunk quietly past them, Zazu began telling them stories about his cousin mistaking himself for a woodpecker. Scar and the hyenas began getting bored until Zazu started singing. He at first sang about troubles, only for Scar to tell him to sing something with "a little bounce in it". So, with a smirk, Zazu sang a few songs that Scar did not like: "It's A Small World" and "Let It Go." When Scar objected to those two songs (while roaring "NO! Anything but that!"), Zazu then started singing about a bunch of coconuts standing in a row. Scar seemed to enjoy it, humming along to the tune, and the hyenas added their own humming and whistling.

"Big ones, small ones, some about as big as your head," Zazu finished singing, exhausted. "I never had to do that for Mufasa."

But Scar heard him; his face contorted in rage. "WHAT?!" he roared, making Zazu jump up with fright. "What did you say?"

Zazu chuckled nervously, holding up his wings for peace. "Oh, nothing!" he lied.

"Don't you dare lie to me!" snapped Scar.

"I was only trying to illustrate the differences in your royal managerial approaches. Between you and..." Zazu backed away and gulped before saying nervously, "Between you and...Mufasa?"

But Scar wasn't pleased. "You didn't listen to my laws, did you? I told you and everyone else never to mention that name in my presence! I AM THE KING!"

"You never said anything of the sort!" Zazu bit back, losing patience. "You just made that rule up on the spot. Are you that upset over hearing Mufasa's name?"

While Zazu was ranting, some of the hyenas behind Scar started laughing and mentioning Mufasa's name over and over. Scar's dark fur was bristling until suddenly, he whirled around and smacked those hyenas across the face. The hyenas whimpered and stumbled back, promising never to repeat Mufasa's name.

"That's it!" Scar snarled, getting into Zazu's face. "I hereby banish you from Pride Rock for life! If I see you around again, I'll eat you myself!"

He swiped his claws at Zazu, who quickly flew away from the flailing claws and up to the night sky. Zazu did not want to be caught by those claws again, not like what happened years ago. Nala watched as the hornbill flew over her, heading for Rafiki's baobab tree. She hadn't meant to get Zazu into trouble with Scar, but she was still thankful for his help.

"And as for you lot," Scar snarled, turning his attention to the hyenas, "not a giggle out of your filthy mouths. I will not stand and be mocked with my back turned. One more chuckle, and you will get nothing to eat tonight, not even a bone to chew on! Do you understand?!"

The hyenas nodded, and Scar stormed off ahead. As the hyenas followed, Banzai muttered, "Sheesh, and I thought Mufasa was bad."

"What did you say?!" snapped Scar, turning for the third time.

"I said Muf - " But a nudge to the ribs from Shenzi made Banzai sidetrack. "Er, I said...que pasa?"

Scar didn't look like he believed his soldiers, but he didn't seem bothered to argue. "Good. Now I need my sleep," he muttered. "Keep up the patrol until sunrise."

The hyenas nodded and slunk away from their employer, one by one. Before following Shenzi down Pride Rock, Banzai turned to Scar and said, "But, uh...we're still hungry."

"GO!" Scar roared, causing the hyenas to yelp and run. The dark lion gave their retreating forms a disgusted glare before returning to where the king usually slept.

Once sure that Scar and the hyenas were gone, Nala slipped out from under the bush and began running for it. Then she looked up to the stars in the sky, hoping the great kings were running with her that night. One more look at Pride Rock, which was appearing smaller the more she ran, and she headed for the Pride Lands border.

I will be back, my pride, with all the help I can get, she promised as she ran off into the night. I will return!

...

A good night's sleep did wonders for Simba's attitude the next morning. He felt more refreshed and ready to start the day. After thinking about it over a late breakfast, he decided to do something instead of doing nothing all day. It didn't have to be big, like a walk would do. Stretching his legs one by one, he walked away to find his friends.

When he found Timon and Pumbaa, they were already swimming in the river. Timon was riding on Pumbaa's belly and rowing with a reed while the warthog did backstrokes. Simba greeted them with a "Morning, guys!", and they waved back before paddling back to shore to greet him.

"Hey, we're sorry we laughed at you last night, Simba," Timon said, drying himself off with a leaf. "We were acting like a couple of jerks."

"Ah, Hakuna Matata. I'm feeling a lot better now," Simba replied with a smile, grooming himself. "What do you guys wanna do today?"

Pumbaa shook himself dry, his tail whisking about. "We were gonna help you find your favorite grubs," he explained, "to make up for last night. I still feel bad for us laughing at you, Simba."

"Then, after that, we can relax in one of our secret hot springs," said Timon. "What do you say, buddy?"

Simba nodded. "Sure. But can we take a walk first? I want to do a little something for once."

The pair nodded before Timon turned to Pumbaa. "Sure, why not? A little walk never killed anyone."

"Of course, a walk won't kill anyone," Simba teased. "Besides, you old farts can use some walking."

The duo shared an amused look before Pumbaa shrugged. "Well, he's got me pegged. Let's get this walk started."

So that was what they did. It was a peaceful morning to go for a stroll. Simba appreciated the peace and quiet, allowing his thoughts to give way to the gentle breeze and water trickling down rocks. He even stopped to smell some flowers along the way, which made his tail tip twitch.

While they walked, Timon began singing a song called "The Lion Sleeps Tonight." Pumbaa added the backup chants while Timon led the singing. They even got the other animals in the jungle to join them: Daabi, then the duiker antelopes, then the galago. Eventually, Bhati and the sengi joined them, singing together and dancing to the tune. Finally, Simba joined in by dragging out some of the tune, which Timon had once accused him of "riffing."

However, Pumbaa had spotted an enormous blue beetle fluttering nearby and went his own way, wandering away from the group. He ended up near the edge of the jungle and the savannah end, where he and Timon usually never went to. Up ahead, the beetle had landed on a log, and Pumbaa slunk closer and closer until he could almost taste it. With an oink, he jumped onto the log, his hooves digging into the bark.

A twig cracked, and Pumbaa glanced over his shoulder. "Timon?" he called.

But there was no answer. Pumbaa shrugged and started crawling up the log to see the beetle, unaware of his appearance. He had seen Simba try this when he was a cub, back when he had caught his first flying grub, and he was glad that the student had surpassed the teacher. He was getting closer and closer...

Suddenly, a lioness burst from the tall grass, roaring and baring her teeth. Pumbaa screamed in terror, jumped down from the log, and started running back into the jungle, the lioness hot on his heels, no matter how many turns he made. He ignored Timon's shouts of "PUMBAA!" from not too far away, running this way and that. However, his luck turned for the worse when he got stuck under the root of a large tree; there wasn't enough room to fit an aardvark.

Fortunately, Timon ran up to him, his eyes wild with concern. "Hey, what's going on?" he demanded.

"SHE'S GONNA EAT ME!" Pumbaa screamed in Timon's face.

Timon hopped up to the branch Pumbaa was stuck under and looked to where Pumbaa ran from. He was right; a lioness had been chasing the warthog, getting closer and closer.

"WHOA!" Timon yelled as he jumped to push Pumbaa out from under the tree root. "Jeez, why do I always have to save your - AHHHHHH!"

The lioness had gotten closer and closer, her paws drumming the ground like thunder. However, just before she could reach them, Simba leaped over the tree root with a roar and landed on her. The lioness looked surprised before Simba slammed her to the ground. In a few seconds, both lions were back on their paws, wrestling and grappling with each other. Their roars echoed in the jungle, startling and scaring the other animals that lived there.

"Don't worry, buddy, I'm here for ya. Everything's gonna be okay," Timon reassured Pumbaa, patting his rear while watching the fight. When he saw Simba briefly get the upper hand, he yelled, "Get her! Bite her head! Go for the jugular, the jugular!" Then he darted back to Pumbaa, adding with a grin, "See, I told you a lion would come in handy."

Meanwhile, the lions' grapples turned into wrestling. Simba saw the lioness rushing at him, so he reared onto his hind legs to slam his paws down on her shoulders to prevent her from going for the throat. As Bunga had taught him, exposing the throat in a fight was not good...but Simba remembered that his belly was now exposed to attack. The lioness kicked him there, and the two wrestled on the ground until she pinned him, one paw on his neck and the other on his throat.

Then Simba recognized the lioness. He remembered seeing the teal eyes, the dark tan fur, and how she had pounced. Only one lion he knew could pin him down like that. As the lioness continued to growl down at him, he choked out one name:

"Nala?"

The lioness's face immediately changed from anger to surprise as she released him, staring with jaws agape. Simba sat up, staring at the familiar creature. "Is it really you?"

"Who are you?" the lioness asked, confused.

"It's me. Simba," was the answer.

The lioness's eyes seemed to shine when the name rang in her ears. "Simba?"

Numb with joy, Simba nodded. Soon enough, Nala's face turned to pure joy as she and Simba greeted each other and jumped around like cubs. Timon was gawking at them, jaws wide open, ignoring Pumbaa's question about whether he wouldn't be eaten after all.

"Simba! You're alive!" exclaimed Nala as they jumped around.

"It's so great to see you!" Simba cheered. "What're you doing here?"

"What am I doing here? What are you doing here?" Nala asked breathlessly.

They were so busy greeting each other and jumping that they hadn't noticed Timon walking to them, demanding answers. After having avoided their trampling paws, he finally shouted, "HEY! WHAT'S GOIN' ON HERE?!"

Both lions looked down at him. Simba couldn't keep the grin off his face as he introduced his friends to each other, "Nala, this is Timon. He's taken care of me while I was away. And Timon, this is Nala. She's my best friend!"

"Friend?" Timon repeated incredulously. "Some friend she is! She tried to eat Pumbaa!"

"I didn't know," Nala replied. "Any friend of Simba's is a friend of mine."

"Hey, Pumbaa! Get over here!" Simba called to Pumbaa. The warthog had pulled himself out from under the root and now walked to them. "Nala, this is Pumbaa. Pumbaa, this is Nala."

"Nala's such a pretty name," said Pumbaa, smiling at the lioness who nearly ate him moments ago. "Pleased to meet your acquaintance."

Timon face-palmed and sighed. "Pumbaa, don't say 'meet' like that. She's gonna look at you like you're a rack of ribs!"

Nala, ignoring Timon, smiled back at Pumbaa. "The pleasure's all mine."

Simba had to admit that Timon hadn't been wrong before. Nala had been really into the hunt, chasing Pumbaa down like a savage. It even looked like she hadn't eaten in days. Hopefully, he could introduce his old friend to some grubs so she wouldn't eat him or anyone else.

"Whoa, whoa! Time out!" Timon interrupted, bringing the chatter to an end. "Glad everyone's having some fun here, but let me get this straight. You know her. She knows you," he said, pointing to both lions. "But she wants to eat him," he said as he pointed to Pumbaa, who twitched an ear. "And everyone's okay with that? ...DID I MISS SOMETHING?!"

"Timon, relax," Simba scolded him lightly, nudging him with his paw.

Nala circled around Simba, admiring his appearance. "I still can't believe you're alive, Simba," she breathed. And you look just like your father. If only he were alive to see you."

Hearing the reference to Mufasa almost made Simba frown, but he pushed it down the best he could. Then he circled Nala, smiling and remarking, "Yeah, and look at you. You've really changed."

"Wait till everyone finds out you've been here all this time," Nala said, her voice turning a little serious. "And your mother...what will she think?"

But far from reassuring him, Simba felt doubtful and even afraid. Did they even know that he had caused Mufasa's death? It was even what Scar reminded him about what Sarabi would think if she found out that her son had killed Mufasa.

"She doesn't have to know," he told her firmly. "Nobody has to know."

"Of course they do," said Nala. "Everyone thinks you're dead."

Simba was surprised. "They do?"

Nala nodded solemnly. "Yeah. Scar told us about the stampede. He became king after he told us this."

"He did?" Simba asked, even more surprised. He remembered Scar had been next in line to be king before Simba was born, so it seemed natural that he would take over. Then he thought of what Scar would tell the pride about his role in the stampede, and he also considered their reactions. "What else did he tell you?"

"What else matters? You're alive." Then Nala's eyes widened in realization, a hopeful smile forming on her face. "And that means you're the king."

The old Simba would have felt happy about being king. His cub self's words, "I just can't wait to be king!" rang in his ears like bats' squeaks in a cave. All in all, this sounded like his old dream was coming true.

But far from making Simba happy, it made him feel scared. He couldn't return to Pride Rock after what he did; in fact, he didn't want to return. He didn't belong there.

"Simba? King?" Timon scoffed, leaning against Simba's paw. "Lady, have you got your lions crossed!"

Nala's eyes narrowed. "No, I'm serious. Simba's the rightful king."

Timon rolled his eyes and retorted, "Yeah, sure. He's the king, I'm the emperor, and Pumbaa is the Grand Poohbah."

But Pumbaa was staring at Simba as if he were a grub too magnificent to eat. He got down to his knees until his snout nearly touched the ground. "King? I humbly bow before you, Your Majesty! I gravel at your feet!" he declared before trying to kiss his paws.

"Stop it," Simba muttered, pulling his paw away.

"It's not 'gravel'; it's 'grovel,'" Timon scolded Pumbaa. "And don't! He's not the king...are ya?"

"No, she's wrong," Simba snapped at them. "I'm not the king; Scar is. Maybe I would be, but that was a long time ago."

Simba no longer felt happy about the reunion. Things had gone from incredible to terrible in a few minutes. Seeing Nala again after all these years was wonderful. But being reminded of his past and how everyone would react to seeing him alive was terrible.

"Let me get this straight. You were the king, and you never told us?" Timon asked, amazed. "We've taken care of a lyin' king for years?"

"Look, I'm still the same guy," Simba tried to reason.

"But with power!" Timon interrupted with a grin. "Like that crazy chick said, you're the king now!"

Nala bent her head down until she reached Timon's eye level. "Could you guys excuse us for a few minutes?"

Timon folded his arms in protest. "Hey, whatever you have to say, you can say in front of us. Right, Simba?"

Simba wasn't sure what to say at first. Of course, he trusted Timon and Pumbaa—not with his deep secret, of course, but he wouldn't tell anyone else in the jungle if something was wrong. But then again, he wanted to spend time with Nala after not seeing her for so long.

Finally, he replied, "Maybe you'd better go. I'll catch up with you guys later; I wanna catch up with Nala first."

Timon stared at him, mouth agape. Then he rolled his eyes and started heading off. "It starts," he grumbled. "You think you know a guy..."

Pumbaa sighed, but he followed his best friend. While in the bushes, Simba heard Pumbaa say, "I knew he was a king all along, Timon. I had this feeling in my gut!"

"No, that was gas," Timon bit back wryly. "And did you get a load of that? Nothing's gonna be the same again! Aw, great, now I gotta gravel."

"It's grovel," Pumbaa reminded him.

"Whatever! And now I'm not gonna do it!"

Simba chuckled as he watched them go, arguing all the while. "Timon and Pumbaa. You learn to love 'em," he remarked.

"What was that about?" Nala asked curiously.

"Nothing much," said Simba with a grin. "Timon and Pumbaa are just goofing around. Trust me, they'll get used to having another lion around for now."

Nala nodded, but she looked away, a sad look on her face. This caused Simba's smile to fade when he saw her reaction.

"What?" Simba asked, catching up to her. "Nala, what's wrong?"

"It's like you're back from the dead," Nala replied, looking around at him with a pained expression. "You don't know how much this will mean to everyone...what it means to me."

Simba smiled and brushed up against her. "Hey, it's okay now. I'm here."

To his surprise, Nala rubbed her head along Simba's neck. "I really missed you," she murmured.

"I missed you, too," he rumbled, returning his friend's nuzzle.

As soon as Simba was reunited with her, Nala seemed different to him. She still had the same description from when she was a cub, but she appeared tougher, wiser, and stronger. She looked like she had carried a heavy and terrible burden. Simba empathized with his best friend, wondering how life couldn't be as simple as it was when they were cubs.

"Come on, I'll show you around the jungle. You look tense," he urged her. "I'm telling you, you're gonna like it here."

With a nod from Nala, the two lions walked down the jungle path together.

Chapter Text

In the bushes, Timon and Pumbaa watched Simba and Nala embrace. Timon felt utterly disgusted by this, forcing down the urge to throw up this morning's breakfast. Here they were, enjoying life together with no rules and no worries. They were bachelors for life, not needing any love interests to tear them apart. It was just him, Timon, Simba, and the other animals in the jungle, and nothing would change that.

Of course, until she had to come along, and just after she nearly ate poor Pumbaa. With Nala coming into the picture, it looked like the paradise of Hakuna Matata was crashing down. From psycho killer to lover in just a few minutes, he thought angrily. Go figure.

"I tell ya, Pumbaa, this stinks!" he grumbled.

Pumbaa blushed as much as a reddish pig like him could. "Oh. Sorry."

"Not you, them!" Timon snapped. He pointed to where Simba and Nala were standing as they left. "Look at them! Him. Her. Alone."

"What's wrong with that?" Pumbaa asked curiously. "It seems like they've finally found each other like two soulmates joined across the years by the bonds of true love."

Timon face-palmed and shook his head. "Sweet, innocent Pumbaa...you don't see what's wrong? She's gonna put a stake right through the heart of our Hakuna Matata! That's what's wrong! If they fall in love, here's the bottom line: our trio's gonna go down to two!"

"Oh." Pumbaa blinked once before asking, "So...maybe we should follow them?"

"Nah, that's a stupid idea. Let's follow them," Timon said, ignoring a grunt from Pumbaa. "We gotta be quiet, though. We're not gonna do anything drastic."

"Like prick their paws with thorns?"

"Nuh-uh."

"Drop a spider on them?"

"Nope."

"Throw a beehive at them?"

"Never."

"Trip them?"

"Maybe. I'll have to think about that last one." Timon slapped his face a little as he ranted, "Never mind all that! Pumbaa, we gotta make sure they don't feel the love tonight!"

He leaped over the log and started running where Simba and Nala had left. Pumbaa pondered whether to join Timon in spying on them or watch the lions enjoy their evening. In the end, though, he shrugged and tagged along with Timon for the ride.

...

For the rest of the day until night, Simba showed Nala around his jungle home. She could see why Simba loved it here so much: the jungle was lush and green all year round, with plenty of water. If she had been in charge of Pride Rock, she would have brought the pride here until the dry season was over.

In the late afternoon sunlight, Simba looked much more regal, the sun turning his fur a bright golden. Nala knew that he was different not only in personality but also in looks. He looked strong, confident, and powerful enough to take care of himself. She even saw that Simba looked very much like his father.

The sun was setting when Simba and Nala arrived by a waterfall by a lake. Unlike other waterfalls in the jungle, this waterfall split into smaller sections that fell into ponds that hung over the lake. They darted among the smaller waterfalls, each daring the other to see who would go over the rocks the fastest. Once the two lions reached dry land, they crouched beside the water and began to drink.

There's a lot of things to tell her, Simba thought as he lapped up the cool water. He wanted to tell her what he had done, opening his mouth but then deciding against it. Nah, that's impossible. She'd turn away from me.

Nala herself stopped drinking as she looked up at Simba. He appeared to be holding something back, but she couldn't decide what it was. Why won't he be the king I know he is, she thought, the king I see inside?

A few seconds later, he came charging, and Nala jumped out of the way. He was already jumping and splashing into the jungle pool, doggy-paddling around in the refreshing water.

"Come on!" he cheered. "The water's great!"

"No way," Nala chuckled. "You're not getting my fur wet that easily!"

"Well, come on to the edge," said Simba. "I gotta tell you something."

Nala walked over to the edge of the water, curious, until Simba reached up out of the water and pulled her in. The lioness coughed and sputtered as she paddled back to the shore.

"You jerk!" she gasped, pulling herself out of the water and panting. "What was that for?"

"Call that payback for pinning me down," Simba panted, laughing. The water made his mane waterlogged and heavy. It even covered his eyes, but his muzzle still had a laughing smile.

Nala smirked and shoved Simba back into the water, sprinting towards where the trees ended. Simba climbed out of the water, shook the water from his fur this time, and sprang after her, laughing. They chased each other around the grassiest area in the jungle, stirring up flocks of birds. Not far away, Simba's antelope friends looked up from their grazing, staring before minding their own business. As long as no one was getting eaten, the lions could play there all they wanted.

Just as they reached the jungle again, Simba noticed Nala darting into the trees, winking at him over her shoulder. He thus went after her, his troubles out of his mind for the night. Simba headed deeper into the jungle, looking around for his friend, until she surprised him by popping out from behind a rock and yelling, "Gotcha!" She had surprised him, but he was fine with it. He showed it with a hearty laugh, and she joined in.

Then Simba walked over to her and playfully pounced on her, just like when they were cubs. Nala laughed and wrestled with him as well, jumping around and playing. But while they started playing and wrestling together, they suddenly tripped and tumbled down to the shore. Simba had landed on Nala, pinning her to the ground, but they were laughing.

While they laughed, Nala leaned towards Simba, held her paw to his face, and gently licked his cheek. Simba stared down at her in surprise, his gaze fixed on her as she gave him a seductive smile. But he was still unsure what to feel, except...was this how his own parents acted with each other? Mufasa and Sarabi had been deeply in love...and Simba realized that he and Nala were feeling the same way toward each other.

Nala rolled onto her paws and padded over, rubbing her body against his and nuzzling him, and he (still stunned) was able to try the same. She slipped through the bushes and reached a clearing, looking up at the stars. During the night, she wanted to tell Simba what exactly he was hiding and why he didn't want to return to Pride Rock, but he never answered. Still, it was hard to deny that being here on this night felt good.

Rustling in the bushes made Nala spin around. Simba was coming out of the bushes, looking a total mess. He was covered in mud and grass, and two branches were stuck in the sides of his mane, making him look somewhat like an elephant without its tusks and trunk. Despite it all, though, he was grinning like a fool—a charming fool, that is.

With a giggle, Nala walked over and plucked the branches out of his mane. Simba thanked her with a lick on the cheek, which made her blush as he did when she had done the same to him. But the night was still young, which meant one more round of fun...at least until he yawned loudly. All the fun seemed to take so much energy out of him, and she couldn't blame him; she also felt tired.

So Simba led Nala back to the many-waterfall lake, padding to a path behind the cascading water. Nala followed him into an open cave with glowing flowers along the wall, which glowed silver like earthbound stars. A large rock, covered with moss and grass, was situated in the middle of the cave's lake. Simba climbed up to this rock and lay beside it, Nala falling in and leaning against him.

For once, the world was in perfect harmony. They had felt the love tonight.

...

Not far away, Timon and Pumbaa were catching up to Simba and Nala the best they could. Before, the friends had listed what to distract the lions with so they would not feel the love together, but it all happened to Timon. He got pricked by thorns, stuck in a spider's web (trailing some web behind him), and stung by bees.

"Well, that worked like a dream," he muttered, pulling the web remnants off.

"It did?" Pumbaa asked happily.

Timon rolled his eyes. "Sarcasm is a foreign language to you, isn't it?" he grumbled.

But he stopped when he saw the two lions nuzzling. He nearly felt his own heart aching from sadness. Watching one of his best friends leave with a lion that almost ate Pumbaa was too much to bear.

"Look!" he exclaimed. "She's making those eyes."

"He's smiling that smile," Pumbaa sniffled.

Timon tried to find more words as he became overcome with sadness. "They're laughing...and hugging, and...and..."

Then he dropped his arms to his sides, sighing sadly. "Well, it's happened, buddy. Simba's finally felt the love tonight."

"You mean his carefree days with us are history?" Pumbaa asked, pulling Timon close to him.

"Yeah, Pumbaa," Timon sniffled, hugging Pumbaa. "Our pal's doomed."

And with that, the two started crying loudly. However, they were crying right next to Bunga; the honey badger gave them a stern glare before stomping off.

...

Simba and Nala had no idea how long they spent together in the jungle. The night seemed to go on forever, an endless night, wondering when the sun would rise again. So once they woke from their brief nap, they decided to head back to Timon and Pumbaa's clearing and sleep there. Along the way, he had even gotten her to try eating a grub, and while she had been hesitant about eating bugs, they didn't taste too bad.

But while Nala enjoyed herself with Simba, she couldn't get her mission out of her head. He was the perfect lion to bring back to Pride Rock, to save the lionesses from Scar's tyranny and overthrow Scar. After all, he was the son and heir of Mufasa, the true king of the Pride Lands. She had felt bad for pressuring him earlier, but she needed to find the right time to urge him again and fast.

"Isn't this a great place?" Simba asked, breaking the silence. They were walking before a grand waterfall on a fallen log that he and his friends often used.

"It is beautiful," Nala agreed, taking in the scenery. She didn't want to ruin the night by telling Simba this, but he needed to know the truth. "But I need to ask you. You've been alive all this time. Why didn't you come back to Pride Rock?"

Simba paused before climbing into a grass hammock Timon had made. "Well, I just needed to get out on my own and live my own life. And I did, and it's great!"

But to Simba's confusion, Nala gave him a sad look. "We've needed you at home."

Simba only scoffed, almost making Nala wince at how sad he sounded. "They're fine. Nobody needs me."

"Yes, we do," Nala retorted more forcefully. "Nobody's fine at home. Me, your mother, my mother, Zazu...everyone needs you. You're the king."

"Nala, we've been through this," Simba said sharply. "There's nothing I can do. I'm not the king; Scar is. Deal with it."

Nala felt a stab of anger at Simba's defeatist attitude. She was angry at him and Scar—heck, pretty much angry at everything—but she tried her best to remain calm.

She reared up and rested her front paws on the hammock. "Simba, things have gotten worse ever since Scar became king. He let the hyenas take over the Pride Lands and overhunt," she went on as Simba stared at her in shock. "Everything's destroyed. There's no food, no water...Simba, if you don't do something soon, everyone will starve. We have to go back home."

"No," he muttered, leaping down from the hammock. "I can't go back. Ever."

"Why?" Nala demanded. "Because of what happened at the gorge?"

"You wouldn't understand."

"What wouldn't I understand?"

"No, no, no," Simba backtracked, stumbling over his words. "It doesn't matter. Hakuna Matata."

"What?" Nala asked, confused. He was right; she didn't understand this, not even that weird phrase he uttered.

"Hakuna Matata," Simba repeated as if explaining a new game to her. "It means 'no worries'; it's something I learned here. Look, sometimes bad things happen," he went on, irritably ignoring her protest, "and there's nothing you can do about it. So why worry?"

He walked away along the log, but Nala wasn't ready to give up. "Why worry?" she repeated, padding after him. "It's because it's your responsibility."

Simba stopped walking and stared down at her. "Well, what about you? You left the Pride Lands."

"I left to find help," she snapped, "and I found you. Don't you understand? You're our only hope."

But Simba wasn't going to listen to her anymore. Any of the good feelings he felt with Nala—even the romantic feelings—were dissipating fast. "Sorry," he scoffed before getting ready to move on.

Nala stood there, shocked, before following him again. She had wanted to see the cub she had grown up with, the headstrong yet fun-loving cub destined to become king. But now he was a stranger, steadfast in not wanting to return and save his home because he wanted "no worries." The old Simba wouldn't have refused to fight.

"What's happened to you?" she rasped. "What happened to the cub who couldn't wait to be king? You're not the Simba I remember."

"You're right. I'm not, and I never will be," Simba growled. "And that cub grew up. Are you satisfied?"

"No," retorted Nala. "Just disappointed. If that cub grew up, he'd take his place in the pride."

"You know, you're starting to sound like my father," Simba snorted, jumping from the log.

Nala scoffed in return while he walked away. "Good. At least one of us does."

That stopped Simba in his tracks. She had been right, and that made his temper even worse. It stung him like a wasp's stinger, and the tension grew even thicker. Anger made his claws slide out, raking the ground and the fur along his back bristling.

Furiously, he spun back around to confront Nala. "Listen! You think you can show up here and tell me how to live my life?!" he snarled. "You don't even know what I've been through!"

"And you don't know how hard it is for all of us!" Nala snapped back. "I'd understand more if you just told me!"

"Forget it!" was all Simba snapped.

"Fine!" Nala roared after him. "I came here for help, but that was a mistake!"

Simba let out a growl as he turned sharply and marched away. Nala, furious and determined, wheeled around and headed in the opposite direction. She had ventured into the jungle hoping to find help and had finally found Simba alive and well. She had prayed that he would agree to return home, but his stubbornness had dashed her hopes, leaving her feeling like her efforts were in vain.

Hesitating in the dense underbrush, Nala held onto the flicker of hope that Simba might change his mind and follow her. She longed for him to acknowledge his mistake and return to Pride Rock with her. However, all she saw behind her was the encroaching darkness of the night.

With a mix of frustration and heartache, Nala decided to depart at daybreak. She would have to face Sarabi and tell her that she had found her son, only to lose him once more.

Chapter Text

Once out of the jungle and far away from Nala, Simba paced angrily around the edge of the jungle. Hearing Nala talking about how the Pride Lands were suffering and Scar's indifference whenever the land suffered broke his heart again. For a wild moment, he wanted to go back with her to the Pride Lands, Pride Rock, and his mother.

But then he felt his claws sink deep into the ground, tearing up the grass. This was not the way he should be acting. He should have no worries and no responsibilities, like Timon and Pumbaa. The past was in the past, and it needed to stay there. And now Nala had to come along and dig the past back out. Some friend she was, he thought angrily.

"'Disappointed?' Her?" Simba snorted, stomping through the grass. "And she wants me to go home? This is my home. I don't need friends like her. I don't need friends, period. Never did."

Then he stopped, realizing that he was being childish. As he had felt nights before, something was in the back of his mind, needling him like a bee's sting. It was telling him that he had to do something and that Nala had a point in urging him to return. Simba almost felt like listening, but their argument immediately quelled that thought.

"She's wrong," he told himself aloud. "I can't go back home. What would it prove, anyway? It won't change anything. You can't change the past."

Simba looked up at the sky, hoping to see Mufasa. The stars were as silent as ever. His father had said that the great kings of the past were watching over him. At first, when Nala returned to his life, he thought they were still with him, but that changed when she urged him to come home. Now, he felt like the lion spirits were taunting him, buzzing around in his mind like annoying flies.

"You said you'd always be there for me!" Simba shouted to the sky, his voice cracking. He hung his head and sat down. "But you're not. It's because of me. It's my fault." Tears formed in his eyes as he felt the despair and shame well up inside him. "It's my fault."

And with that, he hung his head and began to sob silently.

Suddenly, a voice from the trees pulled him briefly out of his misery. It sounded elderly and rather cooky, and it was also close by. The chanting continued: "Asante sana, squash banana, wiwi nugu mi mi apana!"

Simba looked up to the branches of an acacia tree. It was an old mandrill chanting a song and shaking the branches, brandishing a long stick with fruit at the end. He frowned, wanting to be alone for a bit. With a shake of his head, he stalked away, ignoring the mandrill watching him with a wide grin.

He walked on until he found a pond away from the jungle's trees. Once he reached the log stretching out over the pond, he lay down and stared at the murky water as frog croaks filled his ears. He was dreaming, sure of it, and thinking about what Nala said wasn't helping. What are you supposed to say when Hakuna Matata doesn't work? he thought miserably.

Just then, a small fruit landed in the water. Then, when Simba glared up at the trees, he heard the chanting again: "Asante sana, squash banana, wiwi nugu mi mi apana!"

There was the mandril again, but this time, in a different tree, chanting and laughing. Simba rolled his eyes and snapped, "Come on, will you cut it out?"

"Can't cut it out. It will grow right back!" the mandrill replied with a laugh.

Simba got up from his spot and began walking away. "Creepy little monkey," he growled. But the mandrill was following him now, further irritating him. "Will you stop following me? Who are you?"

The mandrill darted over to stand in front of him. "I know exactly who I am. But the question is, who...are you?"

Simba rolled his eyes. "I'm nobody, okay? Now leave me alone."

"Everybody is a somebody," said the mandrill sagely. "Even a nobody. And leaving you alone will not answer the question. Again, who are you?"

When Simba heard the question more clearly, he stopped in his tracks. For a while, he had asked himself the same question. What kind of lion was he? "I thought I knew," he muttered, "but now I'm not so sure."

The mandrill hobbled closer, his stick in one arm. "Well, I know who you are! Come here, it's a secret."

Simba leaned in, eager to hear something-a word of encouragement. But then the mandrill started dancing and chanted louder, "Asante sana, squash banana, wiwi nugu, mi mi apana!"

"Enough already!" Simba snarled at him, shaking him away. "What's that supposed to mean, anyway?"

"It means you're a baboon...and I'm not," was the mandrill's reply.

Simba groaned and began walking away again. "I think you're a little confused."

Suddenly, the mandrill's hand shot out of the grass, poking his nose. "Wrong!" he cried as he popped out before him. "I'm not the one who's confused. You don't even know who you are!"

"Oh, and I suppose you know?" Simba grumbled, voice full of sarcasm as he started to storm away for the third time.

The old monkey loped forward until he was in front of Simba again, holding his stick and humming an unfamiliar song. "Sure do," he replied when he stopped the humming. "You're Mufasa's boy!"

Those three words made Simba stop with a gasp, and the jungle seemed to grow quiet. How could this old monkey know about Mufasa? Mufasa was long dead by now.

It was then that a name rang in Simba's brain: Rafiki. The mandrill's name was Rafiki. He remembered it all now: this was Rafiki, a friend of Mufasa's and the shaman of the Pride Lands. He had been the one to present Simba to the kingdom when he was a baby and fascinated him with his eccentric behavior, amazing stories, and sage wisdom.

"Bye!" Rafiki suddenly said, running off.

Simba took off after Rafiki, calling for him to wait. He followed the mandrill back the way he had come from, across the pond with the log, and back to the edge of the jungle. When he caught up with the mandrill, Rafiki was sitting on a rock. He appeared to be meditating with arms and legs crossed, and eyes closed.

"You knew my father?" Simba panted, sitting down.

"Correction: I know your father," said Rafiki, still meditating. "I even held you, the son of Mufasa, at the ceremony welcoming you to the Pride Lands."

Head bowing, Simba decided that he would have to break the bad news to Rafiki. "I hate to tell you this, but...he died. A long time ago."

"Nope! Wrong again!" Rafiki suddenly declared, running over to thick trees and thickets, laughing. "He's alive, and I will show him to you! You follow old Rafiki; he knows the way! Come!"

He slipped into the shadows of the undergrowth, and Simba followed. At first, he paused, unsure of how to enter. He seemed too big to slip through the roots that made the entrance. But after taking a deep breath and reminding himself that Mufasa could still be alive, he followed suit.

As a cub, he had slipped through thorn bushes before, getting little cuts and scrapes due to being smaller. But as an adult running through thick undergrowth, it slowed him down. The thorns snagged at his mane and tore at the skin beneath his fur, but he kept going.

"Don't dawdle!" Rafiki called from a tree branch above him. "Hurry up!"

"Wait, wait!" Simba cried out. "Will you slow down?!"

But Rafiki didn't slow down. As a climbing animal, he had the aerial advantage. He swung from vines and leaped from branch to branch with ease. For extra points, he held his stick in his jaws as he grappled with vines and launched himself off branches and to the next.

Simba, however, was a ground animal and had to follow more slowly. He had to squeeze through spaces in low branches, breaking through vines and tripping over roots. Even tree branches were slapping against his face. Rafiki's laughter bounced through the area, ringing in Simba's ears as he kept running and running. It was almost like a ghost was taunting him into running until he was exhausted...

"Stop!"

Simba slowed down in time just as Rafiki's hand held up for him to stop. Rafiki loped over to some reeds with a shush, beckoning for him to come closer. As he did, Simba saw the old mandrill gesturing to another pond with a nod. "Look down there," was all Rafiki said.

At first, Simba hung back. Many things ran through his mind as he imagined how the reunion would go. If Mufasa was alive, what would he say to Simba? Would he say that he was angry with him? Was he disappointed in him for not saving him? But he felt that he was being silly. He had to try.

So Simba walked down to the water's edge. As he got there, he looked down into the water, a bullfrog's croaking ringing in his ears. He hadn't taken a long look at his reflection, but when he did, he was surprised. He remembered Mufasa having golden fur, bright amber eyes, and a reddish brown mane. Staring back at him was a lion of almost the same description, except with darker eyes and a messier mane.

In other words, no Mufasa here.

"That's not my father," he murmured, looking back up. "That's just my reflection."

"No," Rafiki replied, pointing a finger down to the water. "Look harder..."

So Simba did so, narrowing his eyes. A breeze drifted over the pond and rippled the water's clear surface. Not too soon after, though, Simba stumbled back, amazed. Instead of his own reflection, he saw Mufasa. His father's stern yet wise face shone brightly from the water, as bright as the morning sun.

"You see?" Rafiki rasped. "He lives in you."

The air seemed to smell like sweet, refreshing rain, and the wind ruffled Simba's mane. In the wind, he could hear a familiar voice rumble, "Simba..."

Simba perked up, looking towards the heavens as he felt raindrops fall. Hearing that deep, loving voice again after all these years sent a shiver through his spine. "D-Dad?"

Indeed, it was Mufasa, appearing to him as a spirit. As a spirit, he seemed to tower over Simba, taller than most giant elephants or giraffes. He looked like a mix between star constellations and clouds, taking up most of the sky and twinkling. He even smelled like rain, and the rain suddenly came down as a storm, the wind picking up fiercely.

"Simba..." Mufasa's voice was warm yet sad simultaneously, rumbling like thunder. "You have forgotten me."

"No," Simba rasped, eyes still wide as the wind and rain whipped past him. "How could I?"

Clouds began circling Mufasa, giving way to what appeared to be a heavenly light. "You have forgotten who you are, and so, you have forgotten me," the great lion explained. "Look inside yourself, Simba. You are more than what you have become. You must take your place in the great Circle of Life."

"I've made a place for myself here in the jungle," said Simba, choking back the emotions in his mind. It felt harder to admit this to Mufasa than to Nala and Rafiki. His father was here for him now, but he was still dead because of him. "How can I go back? I'm not who I used to be."

"Remember who you are," rumbled Mufasa, his spirit now golden and radiant even as it rained. "You are my son and the one true king."

Simba wanted desperately to believe. A strong feeling like a roaring fire surged in his veins, urging him to accept wholeheartedly. But then, doubt entered his mind, and Simba lowered his head.

"I'm sorry," he murmured. "I don't know how."

As he gazed up at the sky once more, Mufasa was nowhere to be seen and the rain had come to a halt. Simba's heart panged with sorrow at the fleeting glimpse of his father. Then, a sudden warmth enveloped him, prompting him to turn to his right.

There stood Mufasa, not as clouds or stars, but as a flesh-and-bone lion. A gentle light emanated from the departed king, akin to the soothing warmth of the sun. The comforting sensation caused the dampness on Simba's fur to gradually vanish, leaving him feeling dry and serene.

"When I was alive, I was proud of one thing," Mufasa replied, shining eyes upon Simba. "And that was having you as my son."

Hearing this made Simba feel tears of joy run down his cheeks. More than anything, he wanted to tell Mufasa that he had wanted to listen to those words. He wanted to tell him about all that had happened and ask him for forgiveness for the sin he had committed. But more importantly of all, he wanted his father back.

"That was a long time ago," he rasped.

Mufasa smiled the warmest smile Simba had ever seen. "No, Simba," he rumbled, embracing him. "That is forever."

Simba couldn't hold it back anymore. As father and son embraced, he brushed his face against his father's fire-warm mane. He felt like a cub again, tears falling freely as he sobbed joyfully.

"Remember who you are..." Simba felt Mufasa's embrace lessen and looked up. His father was slowly vanishing, becoming like the stars and clouds once more. He felt sadness again when he saw Mufasa being pulled back into the heavens.

"No! Please!" Simba cried as he chased after his father. "Don't leave me again! Dad!"

"I never left you..." Mufasa's voice carried in the wind. "And I never will...remember..."

Finally, Simba could run no more and sat at the top of a hill, watching the clouds fade away. All that was left was the night sky, shining with stars above his head. It all seemed like a dream, yet it all seemed too real. He had finally seen his father again; of course, he wasn't alive, but he was still with Simba.

"What was that?" Rafiki's voice sounded behind Simba, laughing. The wise old mandrill came up beside him, a smile on his brightly colored face. "The weather, it is peculiar, no?"

Simba nodded, looking up at the sky again. "Yep. It looks like the winds are changing."

"Ah," remarked Rafiki with a nod, "change is good."

"Yeah, but it's not easy," said Simba. "I know what I have to do. But going back means I'll have to face my past. I've been running from it for so long."

Suddenly, Rafiki whacked Simba hard on the head with his staff. Simba jumped back, roaring, "Ow! Jeez, what was that for?!"

"It doesn't matter. It's in the past!" replied Rafiki, laughing.

"Yeah, but it still hurts," Simba grumbled, rubbing his head and checking for any bleeding. Fortunately, there was no sight or smell of blood.

Rafiki nodded and rested a hand on Simba's shoulder. "Oh yes, the past can hurt. But from how I see it, you can either run from it or...learn from it."

He swung his staff at Simba again, but Simba was ready this time. Just as the staff was near his mane, he ducked out of the way.

"Ha! You see?" Rafiki exclaimed. "Pretty easy, is it not?"

"Yeah," said Simba. He looked down at his paws, doubt starting to come into his head again. "But you knew my father. He was a great and powerful king; he'd know how to save the Pride Lands and restore the Circle of Life. I can never be like him."

"And he could never be like you. Mufasa's story may be over, but yours is just beginning. Every story in the world is different," explained Rafiki, a serious look in his eyes this time. "But never forget: He lives in you, he lives in me, and he watches over everything we see—into the water, into the truth, and in your reflection."

The words sent a shiver down Simba's spine, but it was a shiver of reassurance. They echoed what Mufasa had told him long ago - that the great kings of the past would always watch over and guide him. An ancient melody resonated within him, setting his heart ablaze with a joy he had never known. He felt as though he might float off the ground, but as quickly as it had come, the melody departed.

Simba gazed up at the sky, tears welling in his eyes once more. Mufasa and the kings of the past were still there; they had been with him all along, directing his steps toward righteousness. Though uncertain of how to reclaim the Pride Lands, one thing was clear: He was done running from his responsibilities and was ready to return to save his kingdom.

"And so, I ask again." Rafiki's words shook him awake. "Who are you?"

Simba lowered his head from the heavens to Rafiki, a faint smile on his muzzle and tear streaks running down his cheeks. "I am Simba, son of Mufasa and the one true king of the Pride Lands."

Rafiki had a bright smile as he nodded. "Indeed you are, young prince. Indeed you are. So what are you going to do?"

Simba was now happy that Rafiki had helped him see the truth. But he wanted just a little payback first with the staff Rafiki had hit him with.

"First..." Simba crept closer to Rafiki with a smirk. "...I'm gonna take your stick."

And with the speed of a cobra, he snatched Rafiki's staff and tossed it into the grass.

"No, no, no, no! Not the stick!" Rafiki barked, running to retrieve it. Once he got it back, he saw that Simba was already running off. "Hey! Where are you going?!"

"I'm going back!" Simba roared. "To save the Pride Lands!"

"Good!" Rafiki shouted after him. "Go on! Get out of here!"

So Simba ran. He could hear the old mandrill laughing and screeching loudly; Rafiki was celebrating that he had set the son of Mufasa on the right path again.

Once Simba reached the end of the jungle, he lifted his head and roared a loud and proud roar so that the land, all of Africa, or even the world could hear. It sounded even louder than it would have been back at the gorge. But Simba finished with another roar before running on, a fire in his heart. He was going home.

Chapter Text

The next morning was cool and calm. Nala had rested and felt refreshed, so she got to thinking. While she did want Simba to return home and take his place as king, she felt like she had lost her temper and said some things that should have been left behind. Thus, she decided to find Simba and reconcile with him. Perhaps he could come back and live here if he wanted to after defeating Scar.

But he was gone when she woke up to find where he had vanished. Even his scent had gotten stale; had it rained without her noticing? So she decided to try asking Timon and Pumbaa about where Simba was. They had watched him grow up over the years; perhaps they would know where he usually hung out.

As she walked into the clearing, Timon and Pumbaa were fast asleep. Timon was sleeping on Pumbaa's belly, curled up and as snug as a baby. Pumbaa grunted and waved his legs in the air, muttering, "Grubs, grubs, grubs..." in his sleep. Nala walked over as quietly as possible, her paw steps muffled by the fallen leaves.

"Hey. You two," she whispered when she reached them, poking Timon with a paw. "Come on, wake up."

Timon snorted and lazily opened an eye. He was staring right into the eyes of a large lioness.

Suddenly, Timon and Pumbaa were up, screaming at the top of their lungs. Nala realized that she must have scared them by accident. "It's okay, it's okay!" she tried reassuring them. "It's only me!"

The two friends calmed down, and Timon rested a paw over his heart. "Don't ever do that again," he rasped. "Carnivores...oy!"

The undergrowth rustled, and Bunga burst out, snarling. "Who's there? Let me at 'em!" the badger demanded, baring his teeth. "I'll rip their gizzard out!"

"Hopefully not my gizzard!" one of the Guinea fowl squawked. She and the other animals had come over to see what the fuss was about.

"No, guys, calm down. It's just me," Nala reassured them, and they relaxed...but only slightly. "Anyway, have any of you seen Simba?"

"I don't know. I thought he was with you," Timon griped. The other animals around them gave similar answers.

Nala shook her head. "He was, but now I can't find him."

"But he was just here," Pumbaa said.

"How can he be gone?" Timon demanded.

"I don't know, he's just gone!" replied Nala.

Pumbaa was tapping Timon on the shoulder when Timon turned around abruptly. "Buddy, don't ask me. I don't know all the answers."

"You won't find him here!" a new voice cried, laughing.

The animals looked up to see Rafiki perched on a tree far away. The old mandrill added with a smile and a bow, "The king has returned."

Nala felt herself overcome with relief and excitement. Simba was going back to the Pride Lands. She wasn't sure what drove him to it, but it didn't matter. Pride Rock, the lionesses that lived there, and the rest of the Pride Lands would be saved.

But they were baffled when they looked up to ask Rafiki more about Simba. Rafiki had left just as soon as he had arrived.

"Hey! What's going on here?!" Timon demanded. "What's with the monkey?!"

Nala lifted her eyes down from where Rafiki had been. "Simba's gone back to challenge Scar."

"Who?" asked Timon.

"Scar."

"Who's got a scar?" asked Pumbaa.

"No, no, no. It's his uncle."

"Wait, the monkey's his uncle?" asked Timon.

"No!" Nala snapped. "Simba's gone back to challenge his uncle to take his place as king."

The two nodded in understanding, now getting what was going on. Then Timon's eyes widened as he exclaimed, "Wait, a challenge? As in...violence and death?"

"I hope it doesn't lead to Simba dying," said Nala. "But yes, it'll be violent."

"No... No! My pal, my buddy! THAT IDIOT!" Timon broke down and sobbed briefly, Pumbaa resting a hoof on his friend's shoulder. Then he suddenly glared up at Nala and snapped, "You! This is all because of you!"

"You don't understand, Timon," Nala tried telling the meerkat.

"I don't understand?! I don't understand?!" Timon shrieked. "Youuuu don't understand! Simba's gonna be marching off into the jaws of death like a dope, and it's all your fault!"

Nala rolled her eyes, knowing that arguing wasn't what she needed to do. "Well, I'm going ahead to help him. Simba needs us," she declared. Turning tail, she ran off into the undergrowth, leaving the other animals to discuss it.

"I'll come and help," said Pumbaa, trotting to where Nala had left. "Are you with me, Timon?"

To his surprise, Timon shook his head. "He needs us? Then he shouldn't have left us!" he snapped. "Well, if he wants to run off and be His Highness, I say, 'Don't let the branches hit you on the way out. Leave Hakuna Matata to those who appreciate it!' Seriously, why would we leave us?!"

"Because he has to save his home," Pumbaa reasoned. "Besides, it's not Hakuna Matata without Simba."

"Not Hakuna Matata?" Timon repeated with an incredulous glare. "What's gotten into you? That's crazy talk! Crazy talk, I tell ya! We've had Hakuna Matata before Simba, and we still have it now!"

Pumbaa wasn't swayed. "We have to go help him, Timon. He's our friend."

Timon groaned and face-palmed, conflicted. "Et tu, Pumbaa?" he went on, acting defensive. "You're just gonna walk away from the good life, give up on all this? Whatever happened to 'friends stick together to the end,' huh? Whatever happened to Hakuna Matata?!"

Pumbaa stepped back, shaking his head in disappointment. "I was going to ask you the same thing," he retorted, his voice slightly cracking with emotion. "There comes a time in life when one must take fate into one's own hands. And like Simba, who marches towards the face of death, I, too, will march towards my destiny as his friend. So if you're not going to help Simba, then I will."

Timon rubbed the back of his head as Pumbaa began to walk away. He started to feel guilty for arguing with his best friend, and he felt even more ashamed. Pumbaa was right: Simba was their friend and adopted child, and he needed all the help he could get. Perhaps those nutty kings of the past were onto something if they were to go save a kingdom of lions.

"Well...let's all go crazy. Hey, Pumbaa, wait for me!" Timon called, jumping down from the root. Surprised, Pumbaa looked back at him as Timon caught up with him. "You're right. Usually, I'm happy to admit when you're wrong, but right now, you're right. We've raised that kid together, and now we'll help him on this epic quest."

"And friends stick together to the end?" Pumbaa asked with a smile.

"Yep. Friends stick together to the end," replied Timon, smiling back. He darted over and jumped up onto Pumbaa's head, saying, "Now come on. We have lions to catch up to and a kingdom to help save. Let's kick some grass!"

Nala had paused a bit as Timon and Pumbaa had argued, and she waited until they reconciled before racing ahead. But the three of them weren't going alone. The rest of the jungle animals were on their tails as well, from Daabi to Bhati and even to the Guinea fowl. Even Bunga tagged along, looking more serious than anyone had seen him. Twelve animals ran together to catch up with Simba and save the Pride Lands.

...

Things had been leading up to this point ever since Nala showed up. Simba had to return to the Pride Lands, save his kingdom from Scar, or die trying.

The lush and green jungle had faded to the vast and dry desert, and the soft green jungle floor gave way to the rugged and rocky desert ground. Simba kept running, the sun blazing over him and the land. He had made the journey before when he was a cub, lost, alone, and far from home. Despite having grown up, he still barely remembered the journey. Yet he was all too aware of the changing landscape, which slowly changed from desert to eventual savannah.

When Simba approached the Pride Lands' borders, the sky had darkened. Thunder rolled, spelling the upcoming storm and the rain to come with it. Simba guessed that the dry season would end soon; it made him uneasy, but determination kept him going. Taking a deep breath, he pushed past the long-abandoned border and back into the home where he had been born.

But what Simba saw when he set paw in the Pride Lands horrified him.

Nala had been right; the Pride Lands weren't what they used to be. What had once been a lush and plentiful ecosystem was now dry and barren, the plants near dead and the land abandoned. Not even reptiles came lurking around, and no birds were singing. It got even worse when he saw Pride Rock from a distance: it looked like it was marked as a grave site for the Pride Lands, a dying land. And it was all thanks to Scar; he and his hyena army had decimated everything. Simba steeled himself with the resolve to confront Scar, to hold him accountable for the tragedy that had befallen their once-thriving home.

But his glare faded to a doubtful frown as his insecurities crept back into his heart. "Who am I kidding?" Simba muttered as he gazed around the land's desolation. "Who am I to come back and try to right the wrongs of the world? Dad would've known how to do it, to save the Pride Lands and restore the Circle of Life." He looked up to the darkening sky, roaring up to the heavens. "I'm not you, Dad! I can never be you!"

Then Simba tried shaking the doubt away. He couldn't let it cloud his mind, heart, and soul. Rafiki's words returned to him: Mufasa couldn't be like him either. He was alive now to help bring balance back to this land. "No...I have to remember who I am," he said aloud. "I am Simba, son of Mufasa and the one true king of the Pride Lands. Remember..."

"Simba! Wait up!"

It was Nala. The young lioness had caught up to him, joining him on the rock. Behind her, Timon and Pumbaa had caught up with the lions. Simba had never imagined the two of them wanting to head into danger.

"We're here!" Pumbaa announced.

"Oh, everyone, calm down!" Timon shouted. "We're here!"

"The backup has arrived!" added Pumbaa.

"Hey," Simba greeted them with a smile. "What're you three doing here?"

"At your service, Your Majesty," Pumbaa said dramatically, kneeling.

"Dying was gonna be my first guess," growled a familiar voice. Bunga had come up from behind the pair, a battle-ready scowl on his face.

Timon hopped off Pumbaa's head. "We came here because—not because we're worried, because Hakuna Matata and all that," he said nervously. "But...okay, we are worried about you. You're our friend, and we're all a part of that circle thingy."

"And friends stick together to the end," Pumbaa added.

Simba almost smirked. "What about that line of meaningless indifference?"

"Er...maybe it curves a little bit," admitted Timon. "Anyway, we're here for you now."

"Yeah, what's it look like?" Bunga added. "We're taking as many hyena butts as possible to the grave. If you need an army, kid, you've got an army. We all got your back."

"All?" Simba guessed, baffled. But then he saw that Timon, Pumbaa, and Bunga weren't alone. All the friends he had made in the jungle were standing at attention, from Daabi and Bhati to the more timid animals like the antelope and the Guinea fowl. One of these animals included the bongo he had accidentally frightened. Finally, there were two meerkats Simba didn't recognize riding on Pumbaa with Timon; one was stout and motherly, while the other was thin and grumpy.

Simba was amazed at how many animals had come. He had never expected them to leave their comfortable lives behind and help him. Now, here they were, standing beside each other as they came to a place they didn't know to fight an enemy they hadn't seen. But then again, they were all friends, and as Timon and Pumbaa said, friends stuck together till the end.

"By the way, Simba," said Timon, "remember me mentioning my Ma and Uncle Max? Well, we met them in the desert, and we made up." He gestured to the meerkats on Pumbaa's back. "So Simba, this is Ma and Uncle Max. Ma and Uncle Max, Simba."

Simba approached them, and the meerkats greeted Simba by tapping his nose with their paws. "Timon's told us as much about you as he could, Simba," said the stout meerkat, Timon's Ma. "We'd like to help you too. Just imagine, Max: we're helping Timmy help the Lion King!"

"Never knew Tee-moan had hung out with predators for so long," remarked the thin meerkat named Uncle Max. "Color me surprised and impressed."

The returning prince nodded his greetings and turned back to the landscape. Looking over his old home still brought sorrow to his heart.

Nala sat with him, looking at the damage. "It's awful, isn't it?"

Simba looked back at the ruined scenery. "I didn't want to believe you," he confessed. "I'm sorry."

Nala merely nodded, her eyes tender. "What made you come back? What will you do now?"

That got Simba thinking. He knew what he was going to do. Rafiki had asked him who he was; he was even more confident now. He was the son of Mufasa, and he would not turn his back on his father's kingdom.

"I got some sense knocked into me, and I got the bump on my head to prove it," Simba joked when Rafiki smacked him upside the head with his staff. "Besides, this is my home, my kingdom. My father once told me to protect everything the light touches, to be the first servant of the kingdom. If I don't fight for it, who will?"

No one, he had thought to himself. If he had stayed in the jungle and lazed around forever, no one would be left to challenge Scar.

Sitting down, Simba turned to face Nala. "My father never turned his back on anyone," he declared. "He never ran from his problems like I did. He never thought twice about giving all he had for his kingdom. In the end...he gave everything he had for me." He wasn't ashamed of the tears welling up in his eyes, but he wiped them away with his paw. "For a long time, I thought I had lost him. But it wasn't him I had lost...it was me. I have to accept who I am despite what I've done. It's up to me to restore my father's spirit to the Pride Lands."

"It's your spirit, Simba," Nala said as she walked to stand beside him. She gently nudged him to his paws with love and determination in her eyes. "And we'll do it together."

"It's gonna be dangerous," Simba told her.

Nala snorted with amusement. "Dangerous? I laugh in the face of danger. Ha ha ha!"

Hearing this, Simba almost smiled. That reminded him of when they were cubs in the elephant graveyard when Simba had done the same thing: laughing in the face of literal danger. It didn't matter if the laugh was cynical compared to when they were cubs; it soothed their souls again. Right now, Simba felt like they were best friends again, helping each other through thick and thin.

"I'm fine with danger," replied Bunga. "That jungle's softened me up. I could use a fight to liven up again."

"Like I just told Nala, it'll be dangerous," Simba reminded him. "Scar's going to have an even bigger army."

Bunga grinned. "Honey badger don't care. Honey badger don't give a darn," he said. "I'm gonna take as many hyenas as possible to the grave."

"I see nothing funny about what Nala said," Timon remarked, looking miffed before looking out at the ruined Pridelands. He looked revulsed as he said, "So, er...we're gonna fight your uncle for this?"

Simba was not irritated by Timon's scathing tone, being used to the meerkat being the wisecrack of the gang. He looked back out to the Pride Lands, saying, "Yes, Timon. This is my home."

"Would your home include the big pointy rock way over there?" Pumbaa added.

"Yep," replied Simba. "Including the pig pointy rock way over there. Pride Rock."

"Ah...talk about your fixer-upper. I love what you've done with the place, though I think you went a little heavy on the carcasses." Timon remarked. Then, with a genuinely kind tone, he said, "Well, Simba, if it's that important to you, we're with you to the end."

Simba smiled down at him in return. No matter how wise-cracking and jerky Timon could be at times, he did appreciate their friendship.

"Simba?" a familiar posh voice squawked from above them, cutting through the silence. "Are my eyes deceiving me?"

As the animals turned their heads toward the sound, they saw Zazu perched on one of the lower branches of the dead tree. Simba couldn't believe his eyes. Nala had informed him that Zazu had been banished from Pride Rock for offending Scar, yet there he was, determined to take care of himself. Despite having molted a few feathers, he appeared well-groomed and dignified.

Simba grinned up at Zazu. "Hey, Mister Banana Beak," he replied with a chuckle, affectionately using the old nickname. "It's great to see you again."

"Simba...as I live and breathe, it's you! It's really you!" Zazu exclaimed joyfully, swooping down to stand before Simba. "And how much you look like your father! He would most certainly be very proud of you." With a bow reminiscent of those he had performed for Mufasa, Zazu spread his wings. "Whatever mission you're on, let it be known that I will help you. We are with you until the end, Your Majesty."

Simba had once enjoyed teasing Zazu during his carefree days and even acted disrespectful towards him at times. But now, he was genuinely relieved to see his father's old friend alive and well.

"Thank you, Zazu. And thank you all," Simba said graciously, acknowledging the assembly of animals with a nod. "It would mean everything to the Pride Lands if you're willing to join the fight for our sovereignty and freedom, to restore the natural balance of the Circle of Life. Take a moment to look at the animals beside you; they may stand bravely by your side in the heat of battle, and there's a big chance that they may die in battle. But if you still want to fight, step forward and stand with me."

Nala and Zazu swiftly stepped up, their commitment unwavering, and were soon joined by Bunga. After a moment of contemplation, Timon, Pumbaa, and Timon's mother and uncle rallied to the cause. Gradually, the other animals followed suit.

So that was enough for Simba. While he didn't have a grand army, he could ask for no better animals to fight alongside him than them. Turning, he looked back to the dying land as the clouds began rolling in. It was time to dethrone Scar once and for all.

Chapter Text

As Simba and his small army slowly approached Pride Rock, he felt he had bitten off more than he could chew. They had all made it across the plains without being detected by the hyenas. He knew that hyenas could probably smell them out, but he must have gotten lucky. Not too long, they had made it near the bottom of Pride Rock.

But when they reached the actual bottom of Pride Rock, their luck had run out. More hyenas were guarding the place, alert and looking relatively well-fed. The hyenas back in his day had been thin and angry. Here, though, they looked healthier and relaxed. Simba motioned for everyone to get behind a rock, and they all watched as the hyenas showed no signs of moving from their posts.

"Hyenas...oi vey...I hate hyenas," Timon griped, and Ma and Uncle Max agreed; where they had come from, their colony had constantly been invaded by hyenas.

The sengi gulped. "We're dead. We're so dead."

"Looking back, I kinda wasted my time on grooming," added the galago nervously.

"Hey, guys, it might not be so bad, " Pumbaa reassured the other animals. "Maybe it'll be a quick death. You know, just not a lot of chewing."

Timon shuddered; that thought did not help at all. He sidled up to Simba and whispered, "So what's your plan for getting past all those slobbering guards?"

"Live bait," Simba whispered back.

"Great idea," Timon said with a grin. But then he realized the plan and added indignantly, "Hey!"

"Come on, Timon," Simba snapped. "One or two of you need to create a diversion!"

Timon scoffed. "What do you want me to do anyway? Dress in drag and do the hula?"

"That's a good idea, Simba," said Pumbaa. "Those guys can never resist fresh meat. Now, all we have to do is find something big, plump, and juicy, maybe a gnu..." He was met by many pairs of eyes turning their gaze to him. "...why's everyone looking at me?"

"Because it's you," Timon said, patting Pumbaa on the shoulder. "Well...nice knowing you, buddy."

Pumbaa glared back indignantly. "Oh no, you don't! If I'm gonna be bait, you'll have to be bait with me."

"You just had to play that card, didn't you?" Timon grumbled, but he went with Pumbaa anyway.

Once Timon was on Pumbaa's back, Pumbaa stood straight and trotted into the clearing where the hyenas were. That was the plan: Timon and Pumbaa would march out to where the hyenas were and distract them, to make them chase them and clear the way. At first, they did so by tiptoeing, Pumbaa whistling something Timon once called "Tiptoeing Through The Tulips."

Suddenly, Timon grabbed a stick and started banging it hard on a nearby rock. "Are ya achin' for some bacon?!" he called out as loudly as he could. "Wanna dine on some tasty swine?! Step right up, step right up, and stand in line! Who's hungry?!"

"Y-Yeah!" Pumbaa added nervously, giving a little fart. "I'm a big fat juicy pig! W-W-Wanna eat me?"

Immediately, the hyenas perked up, staring at these two animals in amazement. As long as they had been in the Pride Lands, their prey had always fled before them. Now, here were two animals - an appetizer and a meal fit for an army - deliberately stepping out to face them.

"Ma chère, monsieurs and mademoiselles," Timon announced in a foreign accent, smiling as he climbed up to perch on Pumbaa's head. "It is with the greatest pride and greatest pleasure that we welcome you today. And now we invite you to relax and sit as we proudly present...your dinner."

The hyenas began to drool and lick their chops. Once he got their undivided attention, Timon started to sing while Pumbaa prepared to flee. "Be...our...guests, be our guests, put our service to the - "

But they screamed as the hyenas lunged at them. As fast as the wind could carry them, Timon and Pumbaa fled opposite Pride Rock, taking as much of the hyenas with them as they could. Ma and Uncle Max watched them go with horror at the thought of them being caught, but Daabi and Bhati reassured them that they were fast on their feet.

Once Timon and Pumbaa led the hyenas away, Simba, Nala, Bunga, and the jungle animals crept ever closer to Pride Rock. Zazu perched on Simba's back, shuffling close to his mane so that he was hidden from view.

"Nala, you find my mother and rally the lionesses," Simba instructed her. "Bunga, you go with her and tell them that you're a friend. I'm gonna go look for Scar."

"Got it," Bunga replied, and he and Nala ran off.

"Bhat abou' us, Bimba?" Daabi asked.

"Yeah, what can we do?" Bhati added in her thoughts as well. "We want to help."

"The rest of you go with Nala and Bunga. Nala will tell the other lionesses that you're friends of mine. As long as you're friends of mine, no one here will eat you." The animals nodded and ran off, and before Zazu could take off, Simba asked, "Hey, do you know where Scar is?"

"At this time of day, he should be at the edge of Pride Rock," Zazu informed him. "If you'd like, I can escort you there, young master, almost like old times. But I must stay out of sight, for Scar has banished me from Pride Rock."

Simba was happy to have Zazu following him for the first time ever. He nodded to the hornbill, and they went off together.

While Simba and Zazu searched for Scar, Zazu filled him in on what had happened, including Scar trying to force Sarabi to be his mate. Because Nala had left for help, Scar had punished the lionesses for it. From now on, he had said, they were forbidden from eating from any carcasses again. Their meat would have to be delivered to them, and they would be only scraps. The lionesses had suffered because of this, and Zazu even mentioned that a cub had died from malnutrition.

Hearing all this made Simba's fur bristle. Scar had no care for anyone except himself...and maybe the hyenas, if their being well-fed was anything. His uncle was taking things way too far. The land in the Pride Lands was dying, and the pride was suffering, but he was paying no attention.

"SARABI!"

Simba looked up in time when he heard his uncle's roar. By instinct, Zazu gulped and hid in a hole in a nearby tree. As for Simba, he peered around a rock, hidden from Scar's eyes and his hyenas, and saw a saddening sight.

As Zazu had warned, Scar loomed at the precipice of Pride Rock, accompanied by Zira, and cast a steely gaze upon the gathering hyenas below. Amongst the throng, his mother, Sarabi, once the queen of the Pridelands, appeared distressingly emaciated, her ribs protruding through her lackluster tawny fur. Despite her weakened state, she navigated through the mass of hyenas who brazenly snapped at her paws as she passed.

"Where's our food?!" jeered one of the hyenas.

"Yeah, we're hungry!" snarled another.

With every step, Sarabi maintained her dignity, her cold glare silencing the insolent hyenas. Despite the adversity, she displayed a resolute determination not to be cowed by their harassment. With a simpering smile at Scar, Zira whispered something before departing, making her way toward the cave within Pride Rock.

Simba, witnessing his mother's approach to Scar, was filled with a deep sense of shame. Had his flight from the Pride Lands resulted in Sarabi becoming a slave? Every fiber of his being clamored to leap into the fray and confront the hyenas to save his mother. However, he knew that the time for action had not yet arrived.

"Sarabi," Scar crooned, his eyes and tone full of malice. "Seeing you starve is breaking my heart. You cannot live on scraps forever. All you have to do to let you and the others eat is to be my queen."

Zazu had mentioned that Scar had tried to seduce Sarabi, and now that Simba saw this, he knew that the majordomo was right. Scar was forcing his mother to be his queen.

The lioness shook her head wearily. "It's over, Scar. Can't you see that?"

Scar's simpering smile was replaced with a frown. He stalked forward until he was nose-to-nose with Sarabi. "You're suffering for what?" he asked with a jeer. "Don't tell me: you still long for a life you will never live again. You still pine after a lion you used to love..."

"Still love," Sarabi snapped back.

"Don't you get it?" Scar growled. "Here I am, trying to make you see what a true king is like, and you are throwing it away!"

Sarabi looked away, not meeting his gaze. This act just seemed to irritate Scar even more.

"Forget that, then. Let's get down to business. Where is your hunting party so that the hyenas can eat?" Scar demanded, starting to pace around the lioness. "They're not doing their job! If they don't hunt, they don't eat."

"Scar, there is no food. The herds have moved on," said Sarabi calmly despite facing Scar.

"No!" snapped Scar. "You're just not looking hard enough!"

Sarabi did not even sigh at his attitude. She calmly went on, "It's over. There is nothing left. We have only one choice. We must leave Pride Rock."

"We're not going anywhere!" hissed Scar, whirling around on her.

"Then you have sentenced us all to death!" Sarabi snapped, her patience finally running out.

Scar sniffed. "Then so be it!" he said, turning his back on her.

Sarabi let out a snarl. Scar was willing to let the kingdom die slowly if it meant holding on to his arrogance; it was clearer than before that he was nothing more than a petty tyrant. "You can't do that!" she hissed.

"I'm the king, I can do whatever I want!" Scar bit back, sounding like a spoiled cub. "My word is law, so you must do as I say!"

Simba winced in dismay at Scar's petulant words. The memory of his own similar attitude as a cub came flooding back, but he realized that his behavior had stemmed from a lack of understanding about the responsibilities of being king. Now, watching Scar, a fully-grown lion, wielding his power like a cub pouncing on an insect, Simba was struck by a chilling thought: Was this the ruler he would have become if he hadn't faced his past?

"If you were half the king Mufasa was - " Sarabi began furiously.

"I'm ten times the king Mufasa was!" Scar roared furiously. "And I will prove it with my claws!"

Then, with another roar, he swiped his paw at Sarabi, knocking her to the ground. But as soon as Sarabi hit the ground, she quickly rolled onto her paws despite her condition, glaring hatefully at Scar. Simba - who had nearly gotten up from the spot in anger at the abuse - hung back, waiting to see what his mother would do next.

"Scar, a true king's strength is his compassion," Sarabi began, anger smoldering in her eyes like embers. "He does not let his kingdom fall, nor does he neglect it. When his kingdom suffers, a true king does all he can to set things right, help his subjects, make his kingdom great again, and restore it to what it once stood for. In the years that you have been king, Scar," she pressed on, rage now simmering, "you have done none of that. Mufasa has shown himself to be that king, much more the king than you wish you could be!"

Scar snarled with a hint of a whine. "Mufasa, Mufasa, I'm sick to death of hearing about him! I told you never to mention that name!"

"I will say his name," Sarabi snarled back. "You are nothing compared to Mufasa, and you never will be!"

It was too late to back out now. Scar roared again and lunged at Sarabi, who met him with her own claws and teeth. The pride watched in shock as their queen and Scar bit and scratched each other viciously. Despite her fighting prowess, Sarabi had weakened from hunger and thirst, tiring out quickly. With a sneer, Scar reached out and smacked her with his paw again, knocking her down completely this time.

That did it for Simba. Watching his mother take that kind of abuse was more than enough to bear. He jumped out on top of a rock before them and let out a monstrous roar, lightning flashing behind him. "GET AWAY FROM HER!" he bellowed.

"M-Mufasa?" Scar was rasping in shock and fear as he noticed Simba and the rage on his face. Simba climbed down, and the older male started backing away with horror. "N-no! No! You're dead! How is it possible? Tell me! Are you a ghost, beast, or demon? Have you come to finish me off, brother? Have mercy on me! Forgive me!"

Simba ignored him, but as he passed him, he thought, Scar, what's happened to you? He rushed over to his mother, his eyes meeting Zazu's as the bird flew from the tree to a nearby rock, out of reach of the menacing hyenas. Zazu's gaze conveyed concern for Sarabi, and in response, Simba gave the bird a slight nod before turning his attention back to his mother. Gently, he nudged Sarabi, awaiting her response.

As he kept a watchful eye on Scar, Simba's glare intensified. His original intention was to talk peacefully with his uncle, but witnessing Scar's mistreatment of his mother dashed any hopes of that happening anytime soon.

Finally, Sarabi opened her eyes and looked up. "M-Mufasa?" she asked, confused.

Simba shook his head, realizing she was mistaking him for his father. "No, Mom. It's me."

"S-Simba? You're alive?" his mother murmured, shock and joy on her face. "How can that be?"

"It doesn't matter," Simba replied, nuzzling her. "I'm home."

He was happy to be with her again, to be the son he hadn't been in years. So happy that he did not notice a particular lion watching from a distance.

"You're not Mufasa...Simba?"

The young lion looked up. Scar was watching with astonishment before a sly smile spread across his muzzle. "Simba! What a surprise to see you! Alive," he added with a snarl, turning his head.

The hyenas, whom he had turned to glare at, gulped and ducked. Kamari and Azizi seemed to be arguing about something with Shenzi, though she shut them up with a snap of her jaws.

Simba glared at Scar, anger burning in his heart. While Sarabi and the lionesses were emaciated and starving, Scar looked more well-fed and rested. He stalked towards his uncle, snarling, "I heard what you've done. Give me one good reason why I shouldn't rip you apart."

"I can give you plenty of reasons," Scar chuckled nervously, backing away. "Simba, dear nephew, you must understand! Things have changed! The pressures of ruling a kingdom - "

" - are no longer yours," Simba interrupted. "Step down, Scar."

His uncle was up against the rock wall now as he cowered. "Oh, I would if I could, but...you see them?"

Growling noises made Simba look up. The large pack of hyenas was perched on rock ledges, saliva dripping from their mouths and teeth glittering in the dark. Nala had told him about the hyena army, and he had seen Shenzi and her posse from the elephant graveyard. But with that many hyenas, he grew worried.

"They think I'm king," Scar said smarmily.

"Well, we don't!" Both lions turned to see Nala and Bunga helping pick Sarabi off the ground. "Simba is the rightful king," Nala added with a glare as more lionesses rallied beside them. "Isn't that right, everyone?"

The lionesses growled their agreement with nods, their eyes shining bright with hope for the first time in years. Timon and Pumbaa were also there, along with the animals that had come with them from the jungle. Zazu finally flew down, ignoring an angry growl from Scar, until he was right in front of Sarabi. While Sarabi reassured him that she was fine, he was fussing over the queen like a mother bird caring for her hatchlings.

"The choice is yours, Scar," Simba growled, turning back to Scar. "Either stand down or fight."

But Scar suddenly smiled, though it looked rather sinister. "Must this all end in violence?" he asked, playing the politician. "I'd hate to bring about the death of a family member, to feel the shame of knowing that I took a loved one's life. Wouldn't you agree, Simba?"

"That's not going to work, Scar," snapped Simba as he stood his ground. "I've put my past behind me."

"And what about your loyal subjects?" Scar asked, looking around at the lionesses. "Have they put it behind them? Do they even know what you've done?"

"Simba, what's he talking about?" Nala asked.

At this, Simba bit back a groan. He really should have told her what happened at the gorge instead of running from the problem. But he had been afraid to see any uncertainty in her eyes, and she was showing that now.

Scar's smile grew wider as he circled Simba. "Ah, so you haven't told them your little secret. And to think, I had to keep it for you after all these years. Well, Simba," he went on, his voice getting louder, "it looks like your past is catching up to you. They want you as king, but how will they react when they find out the truth? So now is your chance to tell them! Tell them who's responsible for Mufasa's death!"

The crowd fell silent, the lionesses having their eyes on Simba. They were shocked, unable to form the words they wanted to say. Simba felt like a heavy load was dropped onto his back. There was no need to hide the truth anymore.

"I am," he said, lifting his head to face the crowd. "I caused Mufasa's death."

Everyone gasped, from the lionesses to his friends. Then Sarabi stepped forward, her eyes and face full of sadness. "It's not true," she whispered, her voice hoarse. "Tell me it's not true!"

Simba lowered his gaze, unable to witness the misery in his mother's eyes. "It's true."

"You see?!" Scar suddenly roared before Sarabi could say something else. "He admits it! Murderer!"

"No, it was an accident!" Simba pleaded, looking around at the lionesses. "I'm sorry!"

"If it weren't for you, Mufasa would still be alive!" snarled Scar, circling him. "It's your fault he's dead! Do you deny it?"

"No," replied Simba, his voice ringing louder than the thunder above them.

"Then you're guilty!" Scar screamed.

"No, I'm not a murderer!" Simba shouted back. He could feel his heart pounding faster than it had in a long time, and the lionesses' horrified looks burned hotter than fire. "It was an accident! A terrible accident!"

Sarabi stepped forward, facing her king. "Scar, we should let him explain," she reasoned. "He was only a cub when it happened - "

Scar ignored her and turned to the other lionesses, who still looked too shocked to say anything. "So we should believe a son who takes the life of his king, a son who murders his father? A boy who abandons his mother?" Without an answer, he stalked toward Simba and swiped his claws across his face.

"No," Simba stammered, the blood dripping down his face. He couldn't fight back, not when he saw the shocked faces of the lionesses. "No, I thought if I came back, it would prove - "

"Prove what?" sneered Scar, swiping his claws at him repeatedly. "That you're the king? Go on, say it! ARE YOU THE KING? SAY IT!"

As Scar kept up his attack, Simba kept seeing images of that horrible day, seeing Mufasa falling to his death in the stampede. It made him feel like a cub again, a helpless little cub, unable to do anything to save his father. And he felt it now, unable to prevent Scar from attacking him further.

Finally, he hung his head, eyes full of tears. "I-I'm nothing," he mewled, his voice hoarse with grief and shame.

"Then bow to your king!" Scar sneered. He had stopped his attack, but he was now backing Simba up near the edge of Pride Rock. "Looks like you're in trouble again, Simba. But this time, Daddy isn't here to save you. And now, everyone knows why!"

Having backed up against the ledge, Simba had no idea how far he was pushed. But he got a taste of it when he felt his back paws slip down, and he clung onto the rock with his claws. He heard Nala shout, "SIMBA!" as lightning flashed above them.

Then, a lightning bolt descended and struck the parched underbrush beneath Pride Rock, which had been susceptible to catching fire due to the prolonged dry spell. Without warning, the dry grass and undergrowth ignited, and the flames swiftly began to encircle Pride Rock.

Scar loomed over Simba and smirked, his scar more pronounced than ever in the light of the fire. "Now, this looks familiar. Where have I seen this before? Hmm...let me think," he said mockingly.

Simba didn't know what to say. He struggled to sink his claws deeper into the rock to avoid falling into the fire.

"Oh yes," Scar said jeeringly, "now I remember. This is just the way your father looked before he died. I looked down and saw the fear in his eyes." He sank his claws into Simba's paws, which made Simba roar in pain, and leaned in towards his ear. "And now, here's my little secret."

And he muttered three words that completely shook Simba to the core.

"I killed Mufasa."

Chapter Text

The haunting words reverberated in Simba's mind like a relentless drumbeat: I killed Mufasa...I killed Mufasa. As his gaze locked with Scar's smug expression, the truth hit Simba like a thunderbolt - he wasn't responsible for Mufasa's death. It was Scar who had orchestrated the tragic event. A surge of fiery rage replaced his despair as he realized the depth of Scar's treachery, transforming his once-friendly feelings toward his uncle into seething hatred.

As Scar taunted him with "Goodnight, sweet prince" and moved to push him into the fiery abyss, Simba seized his chance to turn the tables. With a fierce lunge, he sank his teeth into Scar's mane, catching the older lion off guard. As Scar stumbled back, Simba swiftly overpowered him, pinning him to the ground. The lionesses gasped in astonishment as the hyenas braced themselves, uncertain of what would unfold next.

"Murderer!" Simba roared, his paws pinning Scar down. "He was my father, your flesh and blood! How could you?!"

Scar gasped and struggled under Simba's weight. "There, you see?! First, he kills Mufasa, and now he wants to kill me!"

"MURDERER!" Simba screamed a second time. "TELL THEM THE TRUTH!"

"Don't believe his lies!" Scar rasped.

Then Sarabi stepped forward. Her disappointment in Scar for nearly flinging her son off of Pride Rock was now replaced by anger. "Scar, you told us that you didn't get to the gorge in time," she growled.

Scar gulped. "Yes. That's true."

"Then how did you see the fear in Mufasa's eyes?" Sarabi pressed on with a snarl. Something hadn't felt right to Sarabi; there was no way that Scar had seen the fear in Mufasa's eyes when he said that he hadn't gotten to the gorge in time. And when she overheard Scar saying 'saw the fear in his eyes', it made her even more suspicious.

"You heard her, Scar. Tell them the truth," Simba snarled. "Or should I do it?"

"Truth?" Scar smirked with a sickening, smarmy smile. "But the truth is in the eye of the boho—" But he was cut off as Simba slammed a paw down hard on his throat, making him choke. "A-all right...all right! I did it. I admit it."

"So they can hear you," spat Simba.

With profound hatred burning in his eyes, Scar roared, "I KILLED MUFASA!"

Simba released him while the skinnier lion tried to slip away. But all that met him were the faces of angry lionesses. He was caught. Everything Scar had told them and Simba was a lie. He was why Simba ran away from home, the Pride Lands were in ruins, and Mufasa was dead.

"You traitor," Sarabi rasped, pure anger and sorrow on her face. "I guessed there was something behind Mufasa's death, but I never thought you were the one behind it. You were never fit to be king, let alone deserving of the title. Mufasa was always twice the king you were, and you murdered him for it."

Scar backed away, watching the lionesses and other animals move towards him. He and Simba glared at each other, Simba's body pulsing with rage and triumph.

But then, Scar's face lit up with a sickening smile. Looking behind him, he turned to his hyena army and roared, "KILL THEM ALL!"

That was when it all erupted into chaos. Scar's hyena army surged forward, charging at Simba while Scar slipped away. With a roar, Simba swiped his claws at a few hyenas coming his way, catching a few on their muzzles. Two had gotten around him and crunched down on his hind legs, making him roar in pain, and the rest of the hyenas charged and knocked Simba down. The lionesses - boldened and enraged by the truth - lunged into battle, biting and scratching as many hyenas as possible to make them release Simba.

In moments, Pride Rock was alive with the roars and cackles of battling lions and hyenas. Simba dove into the battle, slashing at hyenas left and right to reach Nala and Sarabi, who were back-to-back and holding their own; they would pay the hyenas back for making their lives as hellish as possible. The smoke from the fire filled the air and burned their lungs, threatening to weaken the lionesses further, but they had gotten their spirit and resolve back.

A small swarm of hyenas managed to dogpile Simba, trying to tear at his ears and throat. As Simba was roaring in pure fury, a familiar stick swung down and swatted a hyena away from his throat. When he looked up, he saw old Rafiki standing on a ledge and holding his staff, screeching a battle cry and jumping down to join the battle. The old mandrill stared down the hyenas before kicking, chopping, and whacking any that got close to him, even backhanding one.

"They shall not pass," Rafiki told Simba with a manic grin. "Now go help your pride, my king."

With a nod, Simba raced off to find more hyenas to fight.

As he ran, he spotted Nala biting into the spine of one hyena when another came rushing at her. She realized that she was staring into the eyes of Shenzi, the leader of the entire hyena clan. Said hyena ran over and sank her fangs into Nala's shoulder while Nala roared and kicked at Shenzi's belly, using her claws to strike back. Once the hyena let go, Nala sat down, protecting the base of her spine in case the hyenas decided to paralyze her.

"Well, lookie here! Looks like you've come a long way, girlie!" Shenzi snickered, stalking around Nala. "This is a meal I've been waitin' years for."

"I've waited for this moment, too," Nala snarled back. "It's time we ended this."

Thus, both the lioness and hyena rushed at each other. Simba realized that Nala was indeed a superior fighter and let her fight, knowing she was capable of defending herself.

"For king and country!" Zazu screeched in the air, swooping down on hyenas led by Shenzi's minions. He pecked furiously at Azizi's head, making him yelp and whine as he tried snapping at the hornbill. Next to him, the Guinea fowl divebombed any hyenas they could, staying close to the rocks so they wouldn't get eaten.

But Kamari managed to finally swat Zazu down until he hit the ground pretty hard, earning him a cackle from Azizi. The Guinea fowl squawked in alarm and fluttered down to assist the hornbill. In doing that, however, they also ended up surrounded by hyenas.

"Gentlemen, please!" Zazu squawked, backing into a corner with the guinea fowl. "Can't we just talk this out like civilized animals?"

Just before Kamari could get his jaws on Zazu, Bunga barreled into him, knocking him away from Zazu. Despite being outnumbered and smaller than them, the honey badger kept snapping and biting at any hyenas that came closer. He even slashed at a hyena's head with his claws before grabbing it and dropping it down to the ground in a sitting position, leaving the hyena reeling.

He wasn't alone. Bhati, Daabi, and the antelope came running forward, scratching, biting, and butting anywhere they could. Even the sengi and the galago jumped on their backs, biting their ears and stomping on their heads.

"We'll hold 'em off, old timer!" Bunga called to Zazu. "You get to safety! What I'm gonna say is stupid, but this battle is un-Bunga-lievable!"

"What about you, honey badger?" Zazu asked. "Will you be all right? There are more hyenas than you!"

Bunga gave him a grin. "Honey badger don't care," he chuckled. "Honey badger don't give a darn. We'll handle it from here."

So Zazu and the fowl flapped away, and the jungle animals continued their battle. This was not relaxing, but they had felt a fire in their hearts when they fought for the first time. Once Kamari and Azizi had gotten pecked thoroughly, they ran off to find their leader and fight beside her.

Another battle took place not far away from them. Timon was trying to keep out of biting range of pursuing hyenas, led by Banzai and Ed. He tried throwing rocks at them, kicking dirt in their eyes and even insulting them with corny jokes ("What do you call a hyena with half a brain? Gifted!"). The hyenas managed to chase him into a cave until he backed up against a wildebeest ribcage.

"I'm begging ya," Timon gasped dramatically, dropping to his knees, "please don't eat me!"

"Problem?" a voice spoke from the cave entrance, and everyone turned. It was Pumbaa.

"Hey, who's the pig?" Banzai chuckled.

Suddenly, Pumbaa glared intensely at the hyenas, unnerving them. "Are you talkin' to me?"

"Uh-oh, you called him a pig," Timon muttered to the hyenas.

"Are you talkin' to me?"

"Shouldn't have done that."

"ARE YOU TALKIN' TO ME?!"

"Now you're in for it."

"THEY CALL ME MR. PIG!" Pumbaa shouted. Then he charged with an ear-splitting "AHHHHHHHH!"

What happened next was mayhem. Pumbaa was tossing around hyenas with his tusks, grunting and stabbing angrily. Timon was not far behind, jumping up and grabbing one of Banzai's ears with his teeth. He bit down until the hyena thrashed and tore away from him. Together, the two friends chased the hyenas out of the cave and towards where the battle occurred.

"Sheesh! Slow down, will ya, fatso?" Banzai snapped, panting.

Again, Pumbaa seemed to bristle. "Did he call me fat?" he asked Timon.

Timon nodded, adding a very annoyed "Oi vey" as he face-palmed.

"Yeah, I heard him, Timon! He called me fat, which is a big mistake!" Pumbaa snorted, pawing the ground. "Let me tell you right now, hyenas, that only my friends can call me fat! And only they can call me a pig! I might run from hyenas, but I'll always fight a bully!"

With a yell, he charged at the remaining hyenas, tossing Banzai and Ed aside with his tusks and making the other hyenas retreat. Once those hyenas were backed into a corner, the ground opened up with a crack, and the hyenas went sliding down a tunnel created by the crumbling dirt.

"Thanks, Ma," Timon called down the tunnel. "Thanks, Uncle Max."

His mother and uncle climbed out from the tunnel, Ma giving him a rather bone-crushing hug. "I'm just glad we got to see you again, Timmy," she replied with a smile. "I love you so much!"

Timon smiled weakly. "Love ya too, Ma...not breathing..."

Ma released her son, and Uncle Max clapped a paw on Timon's back, a proud look on his face. "Well, Tee-moan," he declared as he and Timon exchanged smiles, "that stupid idea of yours wasn't stupid after all. It worked! I'm proud of you!"

Pumbaa walked over and let Timon climb onto his back. As he did, Timon declared, "You know, I love the smell of Pumbaa in the morning. Smells like victory. Got that out of your system, buddy?"

"Yep," said Pumbaa. "I feel a lot better."

"Good," replied Timon. "Now let's go kick some bad guy heiny!"

With a double yell, they charged toward the crowd of hyenas, bowling and knocking more out of the way. That day, they decided Bowling For Hyenas was a much better game than Bowling For Buzzards.

Back at the battle, Nala had left to fight alongside Simba, leaving Sarabi briefly alone. Fortunately, Sarafina noticed this and ran to help her friend fight more hyenas. They slashed and bit some more, but just when Sarafina was about to finish one off, Zira suddenly lunged out of the crowd and grabbed hold of Sarafina's pelt with her claws.

Sarabi was not surprised that Zira sided with Scar during this fight. Even when her old friends were in danger, Zira remained disloyal and sided with a tyrant like Scar. With a roar, she spun around on the younger lioness, slamming her to the ground. The older lionesses stood side-by-side while Zira spun around on the ground until she got to her paws.

"Traitors!" Zira screeched, her eyes filled with madness and her sharp claws sliding out menacingly. "You've ruined everything! You've betrayed Scar!"

"Scar was the one who betrayed us all," Sarabi snapped, her eyes glinting with defiance. "He was the one who laid waste to the Pride Lands. He murdered Mufasa and forced Simba into exile!"

Zira scoffed and curled her lip with contempt. "I knew that he killed Mufasa; Scar told me so on the day that he did it," she sneered. "Mufasa was weak compared to Scar, and Simba was too much of a coward to stay. Scar was the one who brought together the lions and hyenas as no king had ever done before. How dare you try to dismantle his legacy?"

Sarafina waited for her to pounce, her paws firmly planted on the rock. "If you mean by forcing the lionesses to go hungry while the hyenas steal our food, then yes, he united them. He coerced them together when such a thing should never be forced."

"And he falsely blamed my mate's death on my innocent son!" Sarabi added fiercely. "How dare you justify all the evil that Scar has done!"

With a ferocious snarl, Zira lunged at the older lioness. Sarabi reared up and caught her, the two lionesses now biting and clawing. Zira swatted toward Sarabi's eyes to blind her, but Sarafina was already on the scene. She crunched down on Zira's tail, making Zira roar in pain, before Sarafina launched herself on her back, raking at her flanks with her front claws.

As Zira staggered back, ready for more blood, a mew made all three lionesses stop fighting. Only a few months old, Nuka looked up at them with scared amber eyes. The skinny brown cub looked almost like a younger Scar except with a more innocent look. Sarabi's heart gave out to her nephew, who had to put up with lions like Scar and Zira as parents.

"Come, Nuka! We're leaving!" Zira snapped at her son. "We're not wanted here anymore."

"But Mama, I don't wanna go..." Nuka pleaded, his eyes wide as Zira towered over him. "They were nice to me, and..."

But Zira scratched his ear, making Nuka yelp. "They're trying to overthrow Scar! But you would like to see your father fall, wouldn't you?!" she snarled, and Nuka began to sniffle. "Now stop crying, and let's go!"

As Sarabi witnessed Zira's verbal assault on her son, a surge of protective anger engulfed her. Nuka, just a young cub, didn't deserve to endure Zira's cruelty. Scar and Zira had robbed her of the chance to raise her own cub, and now it seemed like Nuka was destined to lead a life of misery with them.

Determined, Sarabi advanced and gently laid a paw on her nephew's shoulder. "He's not coming with you," she declared firmly. "Nuka stays with us, where you can't hurt anymore."

"You have no right!" Zira roared, her fury evident as she frothed at the mouth. "You can't take my cub from me! Nuka, we're leaving right now!"

"No," Nuka whimpered. "I want to stay with them. Please don't make me go."

"You heard the queen, Zira," Sarafina interjected. "He's staying with us."

Zira's eyes blazed with fury as she prepared to attack and kill them. However, exhausted from battling against more seasoned lionesses, she had no energy left for further confrontation. She believed that Nuka wouldn't survive for long among the lions of the Pride Lands. Not that she cared about his survival; she could birth more offspring with Scar or another lion, healthier cubs of whom she would be prouder.

"Fine. Keep that little termite, you old hags," she finally snarled. "He's no son of mine anyways. And if Scar burns, may all of you burn with him!"

She limped away with one more spiteful glare at Nuka and the others. Nuka huddled closer to Sarabi and Sarafina, sniffling, and the lionesses gave each other a firm nod. They would do their best to raise the young, sickly cub as part of the pride. So Sarafina picked up Nuka to carry him away from the battle while Sarabi charged back to help her son fight.

Chapter Text

Simba sliced his claws against a hyena's face before leaping away, panting heavily. Before him, the battle had started to favor his side. The hyenas may have had the numbers, but the spirit of the lionesses and the jungle animals kept them from falling into the hyenas' jaws. As Simba saw the hyenas start retreating, he joined the lionesses in chasing them away from Pride Rock, past the flames, and fleeing across the Pride Lands.

But Simba had no time to celebrate, running back towards Pride Rock. He had to find Scar fast and finish him off for good. The smoke from the fire was settling in fast over Pride Rock, making visibility hard. If he couldn't find Scar, the traitorous lion would get away with all his schemes and sins.

Then, when the lightning flashed against the face of the rock, he finally spotted Scar. The older lion was trying to slink away towards the incline that led to the top of Pride Rock, hoping to flee.

With a furious roar, Simba sprang forth. Scar noticed him and took off running, climbing higher and higher up Pride Rock, with his nephew in hot pursuit. This almost took Simba back to his cubhood days, when Mufasa had taken Simba to the top of Pride Rock to show him the kingdom. Another event would occur, and anyone with keen eyes could observe it from a distance.

Finally, after minutes of running, leaping, and climbing, Simba caught up with Scar. The older lion was at the edge of the top of Pride Rock, where he and Mufasa used to watch the sunrise. Simba leaped through the flames and landed on the other side, where no one would interfere.

"Murderer..." Simba growled, stalking closer and closer to Scar. "It's over, Scar."

"Simba, please..." Scar pleaded. "Have mercy, I beg of you."

Simba ignored the pleas. "Mercy? After what you did? You don't deserve to live."

Scar backed up more, trying to think of a way to weasel his way out of this. "But Simba...I...am...family!" he chuckled nervously. "I-It's the hyenas who are the real enemy! It's those revolting scavengers' fault; it was their idea! I was planning on killing them all anyway."

Unknowingly to them, Shenzi and her main minions (Banzai, Ed, Kamari, and Azizi) followed Simba and Scar up Pride Rock to defend their ruler from Simba. But when they heard Scar blaming them for all his problems and heard him call them 'revolting scavengers', they backed away, snarling in anger. Scar had promised not to show bigotry towards any hyenas during his reign as king, but he was just as bad as plenty of lions.

"That double-crosser! He's a rat!" Banzai snapped. "I can't believe we trusted him!"

"I kept saying we shouldn't have trusted him," Kamari added, while Azizi and Ed snarled and bared their teeth. "He'll pay for going back on our deal."

"Oh, we'll make him pay," growled Shenzi. "Follow me, boys. Let's let him deal with Simba alone."

So they left the fighting to the two lions. They would be back to pick up whatever scraps were left of either lion. Whichever one lost, it was no skin off their nose if they tore that lion apart.

In the meantime, Simba was backing Scar up against the edge of Pride Rock. Several images flashed in his mind: him and Nala going to the elephant graveyard, him and Scar going to the gorge, the stampede. Those were not by accident. Scar had deliberately set those scenarios up to kill him and Mufasa and even put Nala in danger.

"Why should I believe you?" he asked furiously, meeting Scar's frightened eyes with his glare. All the respect he had for his uncle was utterly gone. "Everything you ever told me was a lie. You tried setting me and Nala up to be killed. You made me believe that I was the one who killed my father when it was you. You've lied to me, to the pride, and even to the hyenas. You've destroyed everything my father tried to uphold, a king better than a son of hell that you are."

"He's a dead king!" Scar snapped back with a defiant fire. "He was just an arrogant, pompous, and overbearing fool! He had all his loyal, adoring subjects fawning over him while I rotted in his shadow! But I showed him! I could have anything he had that I couldn't have: loyal subjects, a devoted queen - "

With a roar, Simba ran over and knocked Scar to the ground. His uncle's green eyes were filled with true terror, as if he were Mufasa coming back to life to judge him.

"You think that because you killed my father, you're better than him?" Simba snarled in disgust, his claws itching to swipe at Scar. "All the time since you revealed your crimes, I've wondered what lion would do such a thing. There's nothing inside you, Scar. You're pathetic, sad, weak...and above all, you're nothing but a coward."

"What are you going to do?" pleaded Scar as his nephew towered over him. "You wouldn't kill your own uncle!"

Simba stared coldly down at Scar, not answering at first. His uncle really had to play that card, even after he had murdered Mufasa to get what he wanted. He did feel like tearing the older lion's throat out to see his life bleed out on the rock. He even wanted to walk over to Scar and push him over the edge of Pride Rock to see him die from the fall, just as he had done to Mufasa years ago. All in all, he just wanted Scar gone.

But something held Simba back: mercy. Downright killing Scar would not bring his father back, nor would it grant him any peace. He would be no better than his uncle if he decided to kill him, especially if he were to push him just as his uncle had done to Mufasa. Seeing Scar pay for his crimes once and for all would bring him peace.

"No, Scar. I'm not like you," Simba finally declared, stepping away from said older lion. "As much as I hate you, I won't kill you."

"Oh, Simba, thank you," Scar exclaimed, relieved as he stood up. "You are truly noble. I'll make it up to you, I promise. Now, how can I prove myself to you? Tell me anything. Tell me what you want me to do."

Simba paused, recalling when Scar had told him to run away from the Pride Lands, never to return. Then, without hesitation, he growled the exact words Scar told him years ago: "Run. Run away, Scar, and never return."

Scar stood there, shocked and unblinking. For a moment, the two lions stood face-to-face, neither moving. The embers from the raging fire twirled around them like burning bits of leaves, and the battle between the lionesses and the hyenas fell deaf to their ears.

"Yes...of course," Scar finally said, slinking around Simba. But then, out of Simba's angry eyesight, he noticed a pile of burning ashes and started sauntering toward them. "As you wish...your MAJESTY!"

At this final word, Scar scooped up some burning ashes and flung them at Simba's face. Simba cried out in pain, trying to swipe the embers from his face before Scar lunged at him. The two wrestled while Scar dragged him over to the edge of the rock, sinking his fangs into his throat. Simba pushed him away using his hind legs before standing up on his own accord.

That was the final straw. Simba had given Scar a chance to walk away and live, and Scar had thrown it all away. Now he wasn't going to show mercy this time.

He watched as Scar lunged towards him before meeting him in mid-leap. Both males locked forelegs, swiping with their razor-sharp claws and biting. Simba slashed at the scar over his uncle's left eye, and Scar bellowed in pain before retaliating. A heavy claw swipe struck Simba across the face, and Simba roared as the claws sank deep into his muzzle. Panting, they rolled around on the ground, biting and snarling, a whirlwind of fur, fangs, and claws.

"You can't win, Scar!" Simba roared as they broke away, blood trickling down his sides.

"This is MY kingdom!" Scar screamed back; the scar on his eye had reopened and became bloody. "MY DESTINY!"

He lunged again, catching Simba by the mane and dragging him to the ground. Simba quickly spun on the ground, keeping his fangs and front claws bared even when his belly was exposed to attack. He reared back up and took a swipe at Scar's face, catching him on the muzzle this time and slicing through a few whiskers. Scar staggered and then came running back, rearing up to attack, and Simba met him head-on, swiping and biting at wherever he could reach.

Suddenly, Scar reared up and swiped his paw at Simba, slamming him to the ground, and Simba slid a few inches near the edge of the rock. In the flames, he could see Scar lunging at him with all the hatred and fury of a demon, preparing for the death blow. Then he remembered all the times Nala had used her hind paws to get herself back onto her feet as they wrestled as cubs and in the jungle. With a grunt, Simba waited until Scar got close and dug his claws into the older lion's belly before heaving him away.

Scar ended up falling a long way with a roar, tumbling down the side of Pride Rock until he landed with a heavy thud. Simba ran over to the edge to see what had happened to his uncle. At the bottom of the rock near his old den, Scar was gravely injured but still alive. He had no idea anyone who fell from such a fall could survive; the last lion he had seen fall from a height like that had been his father, and Mufasa had died from it.

The dethroned lion was staggering as he struggled to get up, limping all the way, just as the hyenas came to greet him. He hadn't noticed how they approached him as if he were prey instead of a friend.

"Ah, my friends...my comrades. So glad to see you!" he greeted them with a grin, limping to them. He was half-blinded now, the scratch from Simba having damaged most of his eye. "It will take some time, but together, we can rebuild our army and retake Pride Rock."

But the hyenas didn't smile or even return the greetings. Shenzi scoffed, "Friends? I thought he said we were the enemy!"

"Yeah, that's what I heard," Kamari replied, and Scar's smile faded to a frown of uneasiness. "We heard you call us 'revolting scavengers.'"

"Yeah! And that you wanted to kill us!" growled Azizi. Next to him, the usually goofy Ed bared his teeth angrily at their former employer.

"No," Scar lied, trying to keep his army under control. He needed to lie to them some more to regain their support so that they would help him. "Let me explain. I was trying to fool him, to lower his guard! We can rule together!"

But Shenzi stood in his way, blocking off his chance of escape. "Scar, you ain't nothin' but a liar and a hypocrite," she snarled. "You said you would treat us right, yet you threw us under the elephant to save your greasy little hide. That's why you fought Simba alone. At least lions and hyenas hate each other naturally, yet you used our not bein' in the Pride Lands to make us support you. In fact," she added with a sneer, "you ain't no lion. You ain't nothin' but a snake."

Scar was backing away from her now in horror, unable to escape. His lies had all been used up. He had no more tricks, and the hyenas finally saw his true colors.

"There's only one true thing you ever said, Scar," Shenzi went on, a sadistic grin on her muzzle as she stood before Scar. "A hyena's belly is never full."

"Yeah, that's what I heard," Banzai spoke up. He and Shenzi turned their heads to Ed, Banzai asking, "Hey Ed, what you think?"

Ed, usually the stupid one, actually had a cruel smirk. Then he let out a low and frightening giggle, and the hyenas started to creep toward the lion they once called an ally. Ed's call ultimately rallied the hyenas into a feeding frenzy.

Scar backed away, trying more to justify himself, but it was too late. All the hyenas launched their attack at once, biting and ripping at Scar with sheer brutality. Scar swatted his claws at several hyenas, briefly earning him reprieve as he killed one, but he got pushed back. Then, as if they were one creature, the hyenas rushed in, knocking Scar down and tearing at his flesh with fangs. In a few moments, Scar was dead - done in by his army - and the hyenas were filling their bellies.

Simba had watched them all with wide eyes. He knew hyenas weren't the most intelligent animals in Africa, but they certainly knew how to hold a grudge. Once they had started killing Scar, Simba turned away to return to the lionesses, his late uncle's screams rattling his ears. In the end, Scar ended up paying for his wrongdoing, with a lesson he would never forget.

Chapter Text

As Simba descended from Pride Rock, the long-awaited rains finally came to the Pride Lands. The heavy downpour extinguished the fire that had ravaged the land, leaving behind charred logs and shriveled bushes. As Simba reached the ground, he couldn't resist the urge to open his mouth and taste the raindrops on his tongue. It felt like salvation, instilling faith, hope, and blessing as it washed away the curse left by Scar's terrible reign.

With a smile, Simba acknowledged those who had gathered after the battle. Zazu, perched on a rock, bowed low and murmured, "Your Majesty." Several lionesses approached and nodded in respect, and Simba even had the chance to meet his new cousin: Scar's son, Nuka, who gazed up in awe at the lion who had defeated his wicked father. After tenderly nuzzling the timid cub, Simba took stock of the survivors and the wounded from the battle. He felt a pang of sorrow upon learning the fate of one of the Guinea fowl and one of the three antelopes, who had fallen victim to hyenas during the fight. He was determined to ensure that they would be honored.

Nala and Sarabi approached Simba with looks of pride and joy on their muzzles. Simba padded over to his mother, sharing a nuzzle with her, before looking at Nala. He really couldn't have done this without her. There was a lot to say to her that he wanted to say: to thank her for helping him, and to say that he loved her. Instead, he put all that into a gesture by padding up to her and nuzzling her, which she happily returned. Sarabi watched them with joy, happy to have her son back at long last.

Then Timon and Pumbaa approached him, along with their jungle friends and Timon's Ma and Uncle Max. They were a little nervous to stand beside a huge group of carnivores, but when the lionesses smiled warmly at them, they saw nothing to fear. When Timon and Pumbaa stood before their younger friend, they bowed, as did everyone else.

In return, Simba gave Timon and Pumbaa a hug instead. I couldn't have done it without you guys as well, he thought happily. The two misfits backed up to let him by, Timon sharing smiles with his mother and uncle.

"That's our boy," Pumbaa declared with pride.

Timon sniffled. "Oh...I promised myself I wasn't gonna cry, but..." He broke down into happy sobs, Pumbaa patting his back.

A rattling sound dragged their attention to Rafiki. The mandrill shaman was sitting on a nearby rock, pointing with his staff to the edge of Pride Rock's balcony. Simba knew what that meant. With a nod to his family and friends, he stepped away from their side to approach Rafiki, who bowed low before him. While he did not bow back, Simba hugged him as well, initially surprising the mandrill before he returned the affection.

"It is time," Rafiki murmured once they parted.

Thus, Simba began his ascent up toward the edge of Pride Rock. Below him were the others gazing up in awe: Nala, Sarabi, Zazu, Timon, Pumbaa, Bunga, and all the rest. It felt like he was being born again by rain, his spirit feeling renewed as he climbed up and up. Was this how Mufasa felt when he became king of Pride Rock?

When he reached the edge of Pride Rock, he looked back up to the rainy sky. Some storm clouds had moved away, revealing stars twinkling in the night sky. Simba felt the cooling wind swirl past him as Mufasa's voice resounded in his ears:

"Remember..."

I will always remember, Dad. Always, Simba thought, his heart swelling with emotion. He would never forget all who had helped him get here, to help him make the kingdom great again. He would never forget the wisdom his father and others had taught him. And he would spend the rest of his life upholding the traditions his father and many others had carried out.

Then, lifting his head, Simba let out a roar that echoed across the land and reached the heavens above. The lionesses answered his roar with their own, all louder than the rain. All the animals that couldn't roar watched on with looks of awe or pride.

Simba smiled as he gazed over the kingdom he was to rule before roaring again. It was indeed time. He was king of the Pride Lands at last.

...

Months flew by, and little by little, the Pride Lands were transformed into their former glory. The once dry and barren land now teemed with lush greenery and flowing water, thanks to the rejuvenating rains. Scar's oppressive reign had been completely wiped away, and the inhabitants were overjoyed. The herds and animals that had fled the tyranny of Scar were now returning, jubilant to be back home.

At Pride Rock, a grand spectacle was unfolding. King Simba gazed down with delight at the assembly of creatures in his domain. Antelopes and zebras melded into a single herd, elephants trumpeted, giraffes stood regally, and monkeys chattered and whooped from their lofty perches. Even some of Simba's jungle pals had migrated to the Pride Lands, establishing their own families. Timon's colony, led by his mother and uncle, had been extended an invitation to settle in the Pride Lands, free from the threat of hyenas. Simba had realized that not all hyenas were like Shenzi's clan, and any hyena willing to respect the Circle of Life would be welcomed in the Pride Lands.

He returned to the cave and saw Queen Nala sitting near the entrance, lying down and smiling. Nestled in the nook of her forelegs were two cubs - a female and a male, born a week ago and hours apart. Simba smiled down at his mate and cubs, whom they had named Kiara and Kion. He had been excited to be a father, especially when he thought of them playing with Nuka. Nuka looked a lot like Scar, but Simba knew to judge him by his character, and that character was opposite to Scar's. While his father was traitorous and bitter, Nuka was friendly and eager to be with others, as shown when he happily met Kiara and Kion on the day of their birth.

But it wasn't time for the ceremony just yet. Timon, Pumbaa, and Bunga had arrived at Pride Rock to watch the presentation. Their eyes lit up when they spotted the cubs, and Simba gave them a consenting nod to let them get closer.

"Hi there, little guys," Pumbaa greeted the cubs, lowering his snout to them. "We're your uncles: Uncle Pumbaa, Uncle Timon, and Uncle Bunga."

"I'm proud of ya, kid," Timon complimented Simba.

Simba smiled back at the meerkat. "Go ahead and see them up close. They won't be rough."

So Timon padded over to the cubs, ready to tickle them. When he got close to them, Kiara reached up to wrap her forepaws around his neck. Timon staggered back with a scream, dragging the cub with him before shaking her off and climbing onto Pumbaa's back. With a laugh, Simba gently picked Kiara up and placed her back beside her brother.

"Carnivores," Timon grumbled as he smoothed out his tail. "'They won't be rough,' you said."

Simba and the other lions chuckled, just as the unmistakable tap of Rafiki's staff on the cave wall turned their heads. Rafiki himself hobbled into the cave, gazing down at the two cubs with joy; it was the day that he was to present both Kiara and Kion to the kingdom and the world. He plucked a fruit off the end of his staff, broke it in two, and gently smeared the juice onto each of the cubs' foreheads.

"Hey, Rafiki," Simba rumbled, hugging the old mandrill. "I'm glad you came."

"Of course, I came. It is time," Rafiki replied, chuckling. "Are you ready, my friend?"

Simba nodded. "I'm always ready. Ready until the day I die."

Rafiki bowed low before turning his attention to the two cubs cuddling with Nala. He gently picked Kiara up, heading to the entrance of the cave. Sarabi padded over and gently picked Kion up, bringing her grandson to where Nuka was practicing pouncing on a beetle; they would come back inside after presenting Kiara to the kingdom to also introduce Kion. Bunga walked over and placed himself at the cave entrance, ready to fight off any intruder that would invade his new home.

As for Rafiki, Simba and Nala followed him as he stood at the edge of Pride Rock, waiting for them. Timon and Pumbaa followed them out, watching the birds flying around the king and queen in celebration as Timon cheered and posed. When they got to the edge of Pride Rock (after greeting Zazu, who had arrived and bowed low to them), Simba and Nala shared a loving nuzzle before letting Rafiki come between them, carrying Kiara in his arms and lifting her into the air. The animals below them cheered, bellowed, roared, and trumpeted in greetings, welcoming the new and somewhat confused cub into the world.

Simba watched with fatherly pride welling up in his heart as his daughter received this welcome. Kiara was sure to be a great queen one day, and he would help her follow in the same pawprints that Mufasa had set out for him. As for Kion, being the secondborn, he could become the head of the Lion Guard to help protect the Pride Lands and the animals within. He would be there for them no matter what path his cubs would take. He would also be there for Nala, Sarabi, Timon, Pumbaa, Nuka, and all the others he would love and protect for all time. And he promised, with all his heart, to respect and remember the lessons he had learned on the way.

Simba - the Lion King - had finally found his place in the Circle of Life.

Chapter Text

1. Ahadi is the name of Mufasa and Scar's father from The Lion King: Six New Adventures, and he's mentioned in this story. While it's considered non-canon now, I'd still like to see some of it in this story. Not only that, but Ahadi's mate, Uru, is mentioned in the story, and she's the daughter of King Mohatu in this story. No Mohatu, unfortunately.

2. From what I've seen in the Lion King fandom, Ahadi is seen as either a wise and benevolent king and father or a downright abusive father towards Scar. In this story, he would've been somewhere in the middle: favoring Mufasa while often getting onto Scar's case on one paw, while trying his best to raise both of his sons to be good lions on the other. Ahadi himself would also have been a rogue lion, invited to live in the Pride Lands after meeting Uru and learning to respect the traditions that go on there.

3. I've heard from some people (perhaps even the makers of the original Lion King) that Mufasa and Scar weren't brothers at all. So I'd like to think of Scar having been abandoned as a newborn cub, only for Ahadi and Uru to find him and adopt him. I've also recently learned that Scar's name isn't really Taka at all; it's actually Askari.

4. Some of the cubs I've listed in this story have been from various places within the Lion King franchise. Tojo, the cub who's raised some baby birds, is one of those cubs.

5. The Pride Lands is basically a more civilized part of the wilds of Africa. In other places in Africa, male lions kill cubs that aren't their own flesh and blood, and they chase out male cubs that are grown enough (just as they do in real life). But in the Pride Lands, the king does neither of those things, the latter involving those cubs wishing to leave Pride Rock if they choose.

6. Beshte does end up appearing ahead of the Lion Guard, as a younger hippo. Lions live up to around 14 to 15 years in the wild while living around 15 to 20 years in captivity. Hippos, in the meantime, live up to 50 years (the oldest hippo, named Donna, lived up to 61 years in captivity and died in 2012). As for sexual maturity, male lions reach maturity at 2 years old but can't breed until they're 4 or 5 years old; male hippos, in the meantime, become mature at 7 years old. So Beshte would have some more time to grow between meeting Simba and meeting Kion.

7. I've decided to put Kamari and Azizi alongside Banzai and Ed when they serve under Shenzi. Shenzi herself is a combination of her two movie counterparts in this story: a sassy lady who jokes with her friends, while still being intimidating and commanding.

8. Some of the songs' lyrics from the Broadway musical have worked their way into the story. "They Live In You" is mentioned when Mufasa teaches Simba about the great kings of the past. Shadowland is one of the chapters of this story, describing how the Pride Lands have fallen to ruin, and mentioned briefly when Sarabi lets Nala leave to find help. Endless Night is mentioned when Simba is alone, thinking of how he misses Mufasa. And it isn't just the songs from Broadway that are mentioned: several song lyrics from the movie got mixed into the story as well.

9. There was a scene that was going to be in the movie: Mufasa covering Simba when he tells Sarabi of how Simba was "claiming more territory" for the Pride Lands before saying that he'd tell her later. Unfortunately, I didn't really remember this until sometime after I posted the chapter "They Live In You". Speaking of the chapter, its title was originally going to be "Father and Son".

10. Though I don't like adding political stuff in here, Scar reminds me a lot of a communist, fueled by jealousy of those more successful than he is and apparently wanting equal treatment for hyenas. The latter part becomes very hypocritical of him later, when he uses the "bigotry" that the hyenas supposedly face to garner support for himself.

11. As you all saw since To Die For, Zira from The Lion King 2 was in this story as well. Her backstory in this one is that she was a rogue lion cub who never knew her father and saw her mother drown trying to save her. She ends up being taken into the Pride Lands and falls in love with Scar, who exaggerates Ahadi's favoritism towards Mufasa and even fills her in on his plots, even learning to disdain Mufasa and anyone associated with him. I think it's a nice contrast to Ahadi: both were lions born outside the Pride Lands and welcomed there, but Zira willingly sides with Scar, turning her adoptive home into ruins, while Ahadi learns to respect the home he's been taken into.

12. Part of Scar's new era speech has some inspiration from Animal Farm. In that book (to those who've read the book), the farm animals make a rule, stating "All animals are equal" and meaning exactly that, but Napoleon and his pigs erased that overtime, replacing it with "All animals are equal, but some animals are more equal than others". Scar enforces that to keep the hyenas on his leash, to keep making them feel important so that they would support him.

13. There was going to be a scene in here that involved Scar being in Rafiki's tree, pretending to mourn for Simba only to scrape his claws down the painting so that it bled sap. It was inspired by a piece of art done by NostalgiaChills on DeviantArt, and I had even commented that I'd like to see it in the remake (though it never happened). But I didn't add it because Rafiki would probably notice the claw marks on Simba's painting.

14. Bunga (my Bunga, that is) is inspired by Randall's Crazy Nastyass Honey Badger video and has that same attitude, though this honey badger has a rougher voice, like that of WWE wrestler Stone Cold Steve Austin. Heck, I can imagine him using the Stone Cold Stunner on some hyenas. As a bonus, he's also the father of the Bunga you see in The Lion Guard, sometimes coming to visit and trusting Timon and Pumbaa to take care of him.

15. A nameless honey badger appears in The Lion King 2019 novelization, alongside the jungle animals. Speaking of them, the antelope and guinea fowl don't appear in the novelization, while a pair of each appear in my story. The names for Simba's unnamed jungle friends are as thus: Amani the bush baby ("wishes, desires"), Mune the elephant shrew ("the rules"), Kakena and Kaluwa the guinea fowl sisters ("the happy one" and "the forgotten one"), and Jafari and Otesha the duiker antelope couple ("creek" and "cultivate the earth"). Both Kaluwa and Jafari were killed in the Battle for Pride Rock, succeeded by their sister and mate, respectively. As for voice actors due to a recent review asking who would be voiced by who, Bunga could be voiced by Stone Cold Steve Austin (or John Cena), Daabi the aardvark would be voiced by Kath Soucie (AKA Phil and Lil from Rugrats and Cubert from Futurama), and Bhati the bat-eared fox would be voiced by Selena Gomez.

16. Nuka gets to be in this story, being the son of Scar and Zira. In a way, Nuka does bear some resemblance to Scar, but he's also got his mother's looks as well. But in this story, since he was born sickly, Scar and Zira want nothing to do with him and leave him to the other lionesses; in fact, Zira neglects and abuses Nuka due to her belief that she failed to produce a healthy heir for Scar. So he gets a happily ever after, being adopted by his aunt Sarabi and accepted into the pride completely by Simba. Thanks to this positive influence on his life, Nuka's personality emerges as a friendly lion who's a popular playmate for the cubs in the pride.

17. When Mufasa's spirit appears to Simba, he at first appears colossal and powerful-looking, and then he physically appears before Simba, being soft and reassuring. I kind of got that from a quote in the Bible, from 1 Kings 19:2-3: "Then a great and powerful wind tore the mountains apart and shattered the rocks before the Lord, but the Lord was not in the wind. After the wind, there was an earthquake, but the Lord was not in the earthquake. After the earthquake came a fire, but the Lord was not in the fire. And after the fire came a gentle whisper." That's the same way that Mufasa appears before Simba: huge, intimidating, and powerful with the clouds, the rain, and the radiant sun, and then appearing as if he were mortal, gentle and loving.

18. Simba's speech to Scar in "The Final Showdown" has two inspirations. The first inspiration is during the alternate ending, where Simba battles Scar. The second is inspired by the Avatar: The Last Airbender episode "The Southern Raiders", where Katara tracks down her mother's killer and almost kills him, but she decides to spare him instead. So I mixed the two in a way. And speaking of ATLA, I think I should've included a part about destiny from ATLA into the story.

19. Just recently, I've been thinking that the rain at the end not only signals the end of the dry season and cleansing of the land but also is a baptism in a way. It can be seen as Simba becoming a "born-again king" of sorts, his spirit and faith in his ancestors being restored.

20. As seen in the last chapter, Kion appears alongside Kiara, born to Simba and Nala; out of the two, Kiara was born half an hour before Kion, making her the firstborn. By this time, some of the other jungle friends Simba had befriended also have babies of their own. Bunga, for example, has already had a mate and a son.