Anyway, this idea popped into my head a while back and I just couldn't get it out. So, as per usual when I get strange ideas, I wrote it down. It's a of an AU, but it mostly just explores a very strange theory/back story for certain TLK characters. This particular part is a one-shot, but I DO have a continuation in mind I'll probably add later on.
I hope you guys like it!
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It was dark in the Pridelands when Simba stepped out from the inside of Pride rock; the sun having finally retreated below the savannah for the evening. A chilly breeze ruffled his amber mane, and the small golden bundle held firmly in his mouth mewed in protest against the cold. He, however, remained indifferent, having trained his heart to harden itself to harden in response to her cries.
Correction: Its cries. He had long since stopped associating a gender to the little thing.
Carefully, quietly, the king of the Pridelands, crept to the edge of Pride rock, holding a breath as he stepped down to the pile of rocks leading to the great grassy plain stretching for miles before him. However, he needn't travel that far, no indeed. Just to the border of his kingdom, where the grass…while still present…had gone dull and dry.
To the edge of the Outlands.
Again, the ball of fuzz in his mouth cried out, swatting in the air with its tiny paws. Though its eyes had only just begun to open, they were wide now, stark blue in color and gleaming with uncertainty in the moonlight.
Yet still, the king continued onward, unfazed even when it somehow managed to turn its head to face him. He couldn't afford for weakness now; he had only one chance at this before he risked growing attached to it. Before they all did.
It was then he saw her; a slim, tanned, figure silhouetted in the darkness. Her crimson eyes were narrowed; her muzzle clamped firmly but gently around her own golden-furred bundle, which, like his own, was squirming in fear and confusion.
Fueled now by anticipated success, he quickened his pace to a brisk run.
So far, so good.
When he was within four feet of her presence, he came to a stop, nodding to her in greeting.
She grunted, lowering her head to release her hold on her half of the trade before acknowledging his presence with a curt "Simba."
Mimicking her actions, he placed it on the ground beside the other golden newborn. "Zira." He replied, his gaze trailing from her stern eyes to the golden fur ball curled at her feet. Like it had once been, this one was also female, but far less scruffy and with a more docile appearance than his own fur ball. And this one had brown eyes.
"So this is Kiara." He said, a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. "She's beautiful."
Zira snarled. "Of course she is. She's your daughter."
The king merely shook his head, gently rolling the newborn cub over, finishing his inspection. Zira flinched, but said nothing. "Perfect." Simba went on, pleased when Kiara giggled in response to his touch, "She'll make a beautiful queen."
"As would have I." The lanky lioness huffed, flicking her tail in irritation.
Tearing his eyes away from Kiara, Simba scowled. "We've been over this. You are not the queen: Nala is. What happened between us was a one-time thing." He paused, stooping over to pick up the giggling cub in his mouth. "And a mistake I will not be making again."
Seeing this action, Zira stepped forward, deliberately blocking him. "And yet," she hissed, sticking her nose in his face, "it is my daughter you want as princess, rather than your true queen's."
"Vitani could never rule the Pridelands." He explained, shoving his end of the trade…who had retreated behind his legs…in front of the tan-furred lioness. "Just look at her."
While obeying an order would have normally made her skin crawl, Zira obeyed, curious as to why this cub was such a reject in Simba's eyes. Her fur color was virtually the same as Kiara's, if not a shade more orange, and her nose just as pink. Yet, unlike Kiara, Vitani's nose was slimmer, edgier…like Zira's own. Her eyes, also, were different: a vibrant blue framed in brown rims, in comparison to the other cub's two-toned eye-shades. And she was significantly furrier: with fluffy cheeks forming in a point, and a patch of golden bangs hanging just above her eyes. In fact, Zira speculated, she looks just like….
"Scar." She finished aloud, raising her head in disbelief "That's why….?"
Simba nodded once again. "Yes." He answered, face twisting into repulsed expression. "Vitani may be my daughter, but she bears a striking resemblance to my fearsome uncle. And I don't think" he concluded, "The future queen of the Pridelands should strike uncertainty in the hearts of her subjects."
By this point, a furious look had carved itself into Zira's features. "Scar was not a fearsome ruler." She stated coldly, suddenly feeling sympathy for the little fuzzball called Vitani. "He simply knew how to get the job done."
The king growled, drawing Kiara closer to him with one massive sweep of his paws. "This is exactly why you and the rest of his followers were banished." With that, he bent forward, and gently picked Kiara by the nape of her neck.
"Maybe so." Zira said, a foreboding look in her scarlet irises, "But remember, it is from us followers that you have chosen your heir."
Unable to speak verbally, Simba flattened his ears against his head, snorting in disdain at the lioness before turning around, and beginning the trek back Priderock. 'We're finished here.' He seemed to say, bounding into the darkness with his new daughter….never batting an eye as he left his old one behind.
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Watching him go, Zira wondered vaguely just how he would explain the change in cubs to Nala, and…more importantly…whether she would believe him or not. Yet in the long run, she decided, it mattered very little. She had lost and gained a daughter all in a matter of minutes. Kiara, though she may have been hers by blood, was much better off living with her father: she would gain the life Zira always dreamed she would have for herself, and become the queen she herself never could.
A feeble mew caused the lanky lioness to look down, and into the wide, fearful eyes of the infant Vitani. The child who looked so similar to Scar, yet contained the Usurper's blood in her veins. The blood of her one-time mate, and current king. Oh, what a turn of events. A wicked grin spreading across her face, Zira nuzzled the frightened little cub, and drew her towards her. "Oh no, Simba" she murmured, stroking Vitani's back, "We have barely begun."
