Prologue:
Spoiler: show
Simba could not possibly be any happier. His home was restored to its original beauty, he was reunited with his mother and pride, he had an amazing and gorgeous mate and queen, and he was now…a father. He watched proudly as Rafiki held his son up for all of his subjects to see, the sunlight touching the infant’s face and causing him to blink confusedly. Tears came to the new king’s eyes and he nuzzled Nala for a second before watching the ceremony once more.
Then, for an instant, he saw it—his father’s face. Mufasa smiled down from the heavens at the newborn cub, blessing him with that single ray of sunlight. The tears that threatened to fall from Simba’s eyes finally did so, his heart swelling with the feeling of love, joy, and happiness. All was well again.
---
“Daddy? Daddy, can we go out today? You said we might…” Chaka stood up on his tiptoes, the light brown fluff of fur between his ears falling into his aquamarine eyes. He pressed his paws against his father’s muzzle in earnest.
Simba’s ears perked up and he cracked an eyelid open to look down at his young son. He was stricken with how alike Chaka was to himself, when he was that age…
“Hm, I dunno, Chaka…you should ask your mom.” Simba closed his eyes again, determined to get at least five minutes more of sleep. The golden cub obeyed immediately and went to Nala, gently trying to awaken her. Perhaps the young prince wasn’t exactly like Simba was… he would have jumped on his parents’ heads to get them to wake up.
After much whining, pouting, and grumbling, the three of them finally made their way out of the den and out onto the promontory of Pride Rock. Nala followed them for a short while before nuzzling Chaka and patting his rump with her light-furred paw, leaving father and son to be alone for a while. Again, Simba was strongly reminded of his past, remembering his mother’s playful push as he and Mufasa went to explore Pride Rock. Now the task of making his son into a suitable king was passed to him, as it would be passed on through every generation.
Simba flashed his mate a nervous grin, and she nodded and smiled encouragingly. You’ll be fine, she said with her eyes. The king grimaced—I’m not so sure I’ll be as good as Dad… he ‘answered’ back. Nala rolled her eyes over their son’s head. Oh, go on already!
“Are you guys talking with your minds again?” Chaka suddenly piped up, looking slightly irritated. His bottom lip was pushed out and his ears were half-pinned.
“Sorry, little guy,” Simba laughed, patting Chaka’s head with a paw. The cub was pushed down to the ground with the force of the king’s big paw. “Whoops, sorry,” Simba grinned. Chaka growled playfully, putting his rump in the air.
“I’m gonna getcha, Dad!” He said, pouncing. Simba laughed and ran from his son, slowly enough so that the cub could still follow.
“You two take care of yourselves!” Nala shouted to the both of them, smiling.
---
“Zira, you really should eat something…” One of the pride lionesses stood in front of the small pocket inside of Pride Rock’s den, where a thin, scrawny, and sad figure lay. It had been nearly five months since Simba took over as king, five months since the reign of terror was over, five months since Scar had been killed by the hyenas he’d betrayed. Since then, Zira, who had been a favorite of Scar’s, hadn’t eaten much or even gotten up to hunt or do…anything. The only thing she would do was to lie around and maybe eat a few bites of something before going back to grieving again.
When Zira didn’t answer, the lioness sighed sadly and turned away to do whatever business she had to attend to. An older cub, nearly an adolescent, anxiously pranced around the defeated lioness.
“Mother, look! I caught a ground squirrel today,” he said, pushing the dead animal towards his mother’s nose. She made no move and said nothing, her eyes as lifeless as ever. The cub’s ears drooped slightly and his red eyes became very sad. His gray fur was somewhat matted, needing his mother’s care since he didn’t quite know how to groom himself properly yet. He was well-fed, thanks to the other lionesses’ help, but his heart needed his mother’s love and care. His eyes dropped to see two tiny cubs squirming at his mother’s belly, mewling for milk that was scarce. The gray cub curled his lip in disgust. Those two were the only thing Zira would react to lately. Especially the little brown male, but nobody really knew why.
The sound of a cub’s laughing and gigging suddenly resounded through the cave, and Zira’s face suddenly moved into an expression of anger. Life sprang to her eyes, making them boil with hatred. The gray cub scooted back a few paces, startled.
“Nuka…” Zira’s quiet, rasping voice reached the cub’s ears, and he stepped forward gingerly. “I need you to do something for your mother…”
Nuka’s ears perked up, eager. “Anything, anything for you, mother!” He said enthusiastically, excited to hear his mother’s voice for the first time in weeks.
“I need you to make friends with the prince…”
---
What had he done? What was this that his mother had asked him to do? Nuka’s eyes were wide with horror at the sight before him. Chaka, lying on the ground, his wide eyes glassy and lifeless. Chaka, covered in deep, wide gashes and his own blood. Blood that made a tiny river that ran downhill, blood that coated the stones of Pride Rock… and Zira, his mother, standing over the tiny corpse with a twisted grin on her muzzle. Her claws dipped in gore and blood. Nuka watched as Zira sat down and began to lick her paws meticulously, getting every bit of the gruesome evidence off of herself.
“M-M-Mother…wh-why?” Nuka’s voice came out only as a tiny squeak, terror gripping his throat and constricting his airway. This was the first time he’d ever been afraid of his mother—afraid of the once-kind lioness who had given Scar and Nuka love and care… the one who had soothed Nuka when the hyenas scared him, the one who fed him when all others had no food…
The one who now terrified him to his very core.
“Nuka, I want you to go and get Tyira. Tell her that the time has come,” Zira said quietly. Commandingly. Dangerously.
“Y-yes ma’am,” he yelped, and scurried off to find the lioness. He’d seen Tyira with Zira a lot lately, while he was busy making friends with Chaka and getting him alone to play. The prince had seemed so kind and gentle, such a good friend, a good cub… and now he was dead because of Nuka. Because his mother had told Nuka to befriend him. He couldn’t even cry as he ran, the tears wouldn’t come…
He would never get close to anyone like that, not ever again.
Then, for an instant, he saw it—his father’s face. Mufasa smiled down from the heavens at the newborn cub, blessing him with that single ray of sunlight. The tears that threatened to fall from Simba’s eyes finally did so, his heart swelling with the feeling of love, joy, and happiness. All was well again.
---
“Daddy? Daddy, can we go out today? You said we might…” Chaka stood up on his tiptoes, the light brown fluff of fur between his ears falling into his aquamarine eyes. He pressed his paws against his father’s muzzle in earnest.
Simba’s ears perked up and he cracked an eyelid open to look down at his young son. He was stricken with how alike Chaka was to himself, when he was that age…
“Hm, I dunno, Chaka…you should ask your mom.” Simba closed his eyes again, determined to get at least five minutes more of sleep. The golden cub obeyed immediately and went to Nala, gently trying to awaken her. Perhaps the young prince wasn’t exactly like Simba was… he would have jumped on his parents’ heads to get them to wake up.
After much whining, pouting, and grumbling, the three of them finally made their way out of the den and out onto the promontory of Pride Rock. Nala followed them for a short while before nuzzling Chaka and patting his rump with her light-furred paw, leaving father and son to be alone for a while. Again, Simba was strongly reminded of his past, remembering his mother’s playful push as he and Mufasa went to explore Pride Rock. Now the task of making his son into a suitable king was passed to him, as it would be passed on through every generation.
Simba flashed his mate a nervous grin, and she nodded and smiled encouragingly. You’ll be fine, she said with her eyes. The king grimaced—I’m not so sure I’ll be as good as Dad… he ‘answered’ back. Nala rolled her eyes over their son’s head. Oh, go on already!
“Are you guys talking with your minds again?” Chaka suddenly piped up, looking slightly irritated. His bottom lip was pushed out and his ears were half-pinned.
“Sorry, little guy,” Simba laughed, patting Chaka’s head with a paw. The cub was pushed down to the ground with the force of the king’s big paw. “Whoops, sorry,” Simba grinned. Chaka growled playfully, putting his rump in the air.
“I’m gonna getcha, Dad!” He said, pouncing. Simba laughed and ran from his son, slowly enough so that the cub could still follow.
“You two take care of yourselves!” Nala shouted to the both of them, smiling.
---
“Zira, you really should eat something…” One of the pride lionesses stood in front of the small pocket inside of Pride Rock’s den, where a thin, scrawny, and sad figure lay. It had been nearly five months since Simba took over as king, five months since the reign of terror was over, five months since Scar had been killed by the hyenas he’d betrayed. Since then, Zira, who had been a favorite of Scar’s, hadn’t eaten much or even gotten up to hunt or do…anything. The only thing she would do was to lie around and maybe eat a few bites of something before going back to grieving again.
When Zira didn’t answer, the lioness sighed sadly and turned away to do whatever business she had to attend to. An older cub, nearly an adolescent, anxiously pranced around the defeated lioness.
“Mother, look! I caught a ground squirrel today,” he said, pushing the dead animal towards his mother’s nose. She made no move and said nothing, her eyes as lifeless as ever. The cub’s ears drooped slightly and his red eyes became very sad. His gray fur was somewhat matted, needing his mother’s care since he didn’t quite know how to groom himself properly yet. He was well-fed, thanks to the other lionesses’ help, but his heart needed his mother’s love and care. His eyes dropped to see two tiny cubs squirming at his mother’s belly, mewling for milk that was scarce. The gray cub curled his lip in disgust. Those two were the only thing Zira would react to lately. Especially the little brown male, but nobody really knew why.
The sound of a cub’s laughing and gigging suddenly resounded through the cave, and Zira’s face suddenly moved into an expression of anger. Life sprang to her eyes, making them boil with hatred. The gray cub scooted back a few paces, startled.
“Nuka…” Zira’s quiet, rasping voice reached the cub’s ears, and he stepped forward gingerly. “I need you to do something for your mother…”
Nuka’s ears perked up, eager. “Anything, anything for you, mother!” He said enthusiastically, excited to hear his mother’s voice for the first time in weeks.
“I need you to make friends with the prince…”
---
What had he done? What was this that his mother had asked him to do? Nuka’s eyes were wide with horror at the sight before him. Chaka, lying on the ground, his wide eyes glassy and lifeless. Chaka, covered in deep, wide gashes and his own blood. Blood that made a tiny river that ran downhill, blood that coated the stones of Pride Rock… and Zira, his mother, standing over the tiny corpse with a twisted grin on her muzzle. Her claws dipped in gore and blood. Nuka watched as Zira sat down and began to lick her paws meticulously, getting every bit of the gruesome evidence off of herself.
“M-M-Mother…wh-why?” Nuka’s voice came out only as a tiny squeak, terror gripping his throat and constricting his airway. This was the first time he’d ever been afraid of his mother—afraid of the once-kind lioness who had given Scar and Nuka love and care… the one who had soothed Nuka when the hyenas scared him, the one who fed him when all others had no food…
The one who now terrified him to his very core.
“Nuka, I want you to go and get Tyira. Tell her that the time has come,” Zira said quietly. Commandingly. Dangerously.
“Y-yes ma’am,” he yelped, and scurried off to find the lioness. He’d seen Tyira with Zira a lot lately, while he was busy making friends with Chaka and getting him alone to play. The prince had seemed so kind and gentle, such a good friend, a good cub… and now he was dead because of Nuka. Because his mother had told Nuka to befriend him. He couldn’t even cry as he ran, the tears wouldn’t come…
He would never get close to anyone like that, not ever again.
Two chapters in one day?! Le gaspe! XP Anyway, enjoy. This has a lot of redundant parts in it, but that's a little bit unavoidable until I get to the good parts. Hopefully it's still original enough to be interesting.
Chapter 1:
Spoiler: show
Zira’s anger rolled off of her in waves. She was no longer recognizable as the grieving, pitiful lioness in the corner of the den. She was no longer a pathetic, whimpering mass upon the ground. She stood stiffly, her anger making her strong. Her mind had cracked and twisted into madness. Right now, she faced Simba, Nala, and half of the pride, while she stood with the other half who had sided with her after she’d rallied them.
Only hours earlier, Zira had watched with sick satisfaction as Nala had run to scoop her dead son up in her paws, sobbing and screaming incoherently as she licked his wounds in vain, watching as Simba only stood in shock, his pupils constricting in horror, his legs trembling as if he were about to faint. Now her satisfaction had turned to frustration and anger. She had hoped that she could start a war, something to kill Simba quickly. But now…now he had his half of the pride alongside him, meaning that she had a large chance of losing.
“Get out, all of you, get out. Don’t ever show your faces here in my lands again,” Simba snarled, his body shaking in grief and anger. He did not want to start a war. No more lives neeed to be lost. Nala continued to weep over her cub, her baby son, his torn body pressed to her chest and her paws curled around him protectively.
Nuka whimpered from behind Zira’s foreleg. Get out of the Pridelands? Where would they go? What would they do?
“Fine with me. Now, Simba…” Zira’s face curled into a wicked smile. “Now you know what it feels like to have someone you love murdered. It’s horrible, isn’t it?” Her voice had quieted until it turned into a whisper, and she chuckled cruelly.
Simba roared furiously, the fur along his spine and hips bristling. “GET OUT! GET OUT, GET OUT!” He screamed, the words tearing at his throat. He was blind with his rage and grief, and tears came pouring out of his eyes. The lionesses behind Zira panicked and trotted quickly away, Tyira carrying little Vitani in her maw. Zira laughed evilly before picking up Kovu, his tiny mews drowned out by Simba’s mournful rage.
---
The news of the queen’s pregnancy ran like wildfire through the pride. Many felt that it was far too soon after Chaka’s death, but Simba and Nala hadn’t planned it that way. The two of them had to overcome their grief and be the king and queen they needed to be to rule the Pridelands. Though their sadness was covered by pleasantries and regal words, Simba’s and Nala’s nights were filled with terrible nightmares and tears as they held each other tightly.
Rafiki came for regular visits to check up on the king and queen, making sure Nala’s pregnancy went well and that the two of them were all right as they worked through their grief. The old shaman helped the couple to properly bury Chaka, giving him a bittersweet ceremony and allowing the king and queen to have a little bit of closure for their dead son. Simba swore to himself that he’d protect their next cub far better than he’d protected Chaka.
“I’m so sorry, son…I’m so sorry I failed you,” he’d whispered to his son’s headstone. He placed his paw upon the small mound of upturned soil. “I promise I’ll never let it happen to anyone again.”
---
Many months later
High up in a thick, old baobob tree, the old shaman Rafiki mumbled to himself as he clambered up the gnarled branches, feeling a bit old an gnarled himself. The things that had happened in Pride Rock were just new events to him, even though they saddened him somewhat. He’d seen many deaths, births, and many tragedies, and this was no different. It seemed that there was always some form of betrayal in every generation, every life cycle…
The wind teased his mandrill’s mane, and he glanced towards the clouds above.
“Oh, Mufasa…such a day dis has been! Princess Kiara’s birth…de circle has been completed and de pride is once more secure.”
It seemed that Mufasa had other plans, however. The wind gusted heavily, messing up Rafiki’s markings upon the tree. The circle that the mandrill had created was now…
“Broken? Mufasa, what do you tink you’re—“ But the shaman stopped mid-sentence, suddenly understanding that the dead king had an important message to convey. Rafiki glanced again at his painting.
“Trouble in de Pridelands…another cub? From de Outlands? Dis has to be Zira’s doing…” Rafiki knew that Zira had been the only one to have cubs—he’d seen her with them on that fateful day, when she and her followers left. “She was de one who followed Scar de closest…she was his mate and his queen. Scar’s most loyal follower…”
Mufasa’s wind gently brushed the mandrill’s fur, as if comforting him and telling him that everything would be all right.
---
The young brown cub giggled as he chased after the silly grasshopper. The dry sand didn’t allow for much cover, so the cub was able to see the bug and go after it easily.
“Graah! Gotcha!” He shouted, his emerald eyes alight with excitement. He caught the grasshopper between his paws and grinned before opening them to let the bug escape unscathed.
“Kovu!” His mother’s harsh, gravelly voice sounded behind him, and he turned to look in her direction. He was just in time to see her snatch the grasshopper from the air and slam it to the ground, effectively snuffing the life out of it. Kovu flinched, his natural morality still opposed to ending lives unnecessarily.
“Don’t let it go! What’s the matter with you?” Zira growled, scowling. It was important that Kovu learned to kill, learned to disregard the importance of life. She needed him to be brainwashed into a cold-blooded murderer. She was willing to give up her cub’s innocence for the sake of her beloved’s memory…
“B-but, Mother…he wasn’t hurting anyone…” Kovu whined in earnest, trying to reason with Zira.
Why is it so hard for me to break him in? Zira wondered. “There is no room for weakness, my son… Remember, Scar took you in as his own son…” Her voice became soft as she mentioned her dead mate and king. She remembered well…
A year and several months earlier, during Scar’s reign
It had been nearly a year since Zira had given birth to Nuka, the true son of Scar and the offspring of their love. She was his queen, his mate… she hadn’t realized, even then, that Scar had been using her. He fed her promises of letting her have power, of loving her, of giving her everything… he only wanted cubs from her, in the end. A way to immortality, in his mind. A way to carry on his reign for generations upon generations. So when Scar told her to find another male to mate with, a male to have stronger cubs, she complied immediately, blinded by her love and loyalty to only him.
Fast forward to when Scar fell into the pit of hyenas and fire… Zira was frantic, screaming at the hyenas and killing them all with a single blow each. Adrenaline pumped through her veins as she made her way to the torn and bleeding Scar, her beloved, beautiful mate… He’d whispered in her ear, telling her to make Kovu the next king, to kill Simba, to avenge him… with tears trailing down her face, and her ear torn and bloody, she’d sworn to do everything in her power to avenge all the wrongs done to him. Her sobs had been drowned out by the triumphant roaring of Simba and his lionesses…
Present time
“But…Mother, he wasn’t really my father…” Kovu’s voice reached Zira’s ears and snapped her back to reality. She almost snarled at him, thinking to tell him to be more grateful, to have more respect…but then, she remembered that she must make Kovu think he was important. To make him think like a prince and a king…
She pulled Kovu close, adopting an understanding expression. “No. But he chose you to become the next king. When you rule, we’ll no longer be forced to live in these dry, barren, disgusting, termite-infested OUTLANDS!” Her last words rang out and echoed, and she felt Kovu squirm as her claws dug into him unintentionally.
“Mother!”
“Mother! Mother!”
Two voices, one male, and one female, caught Zira’s attention, and she flicked her now-notched ear irritably. Her other two offspring sprang in front of her, each one as eager as the other to tell their mother news.
“We were there! In the Pridelands! We saw the whole thing!” Nuka yelled in earnest.
“At Pride Rock! We saw everything!” Vitani said loudly, looking at Nuka as if it were a retort.
“We saw Simba’s new cub!” They screeched in unison, both clambering over each other to tell Zira.
Zira growled softly in her irritation. A new cub? Competition for her young prince? She needed to hear this news from a calm and level-headed source…and Nuka was not it.
“Vitani! Tell me what happened!” She ordered, and her only female cub sat down upright immediately.
“Simba’s new cub is a girl!” She reported obediently. Relief washed through Zira’s veins at the news. Good! A female would be an easy kill, especially a young, spoiled one… Simba’s offspring would all probably be weaklings, just like Chaka was…
Zira laughed, her thin shoulders shaking. “A girl!” She looked to the sky and laughed joyfully, knowing that Scar would have been tickled at this news. “Did you hear that, my beloved Scar? This is perfect…”
Kovu and Nuka looked extremely worried for their mother’s sanity as she spoke to no one. But then, they were always worried for their mother’s mental well-being…
“Who is she talking to?” Nuka asked, and Kovu looked to his half-brother in agreement of the question.
“Shh. She’s talking to Scar,” Vitani explained. Apparently, females could understand each other better than males could…
“Scar? Where?!” Nuka asked stupidly, looking around. Kovu mentally rolled his eyes. Nuka could be so dumb sometimes…
“Scar’s dead, genius.” The comment came out of Vitani’s mouth easily. Nuka had never gotten very close to either his brother or sister, and they often argued, with the younger but smarter Vitani usually winning verbal arguments.
Zira looked back at her cubs at Vitani’s words. “Yes! He is dead because Simba murdered him. If not for Simba, Scar would still be king…and I would still be his devoted queen…”
“Ummm…” Nuka suddenly spoke up, catching Zira’s attention. “Well, since I’m the oldest, shouldn’t… shouldn’t I be king? I mean…”
“Of course not,” Zira sneered. Nuka, king? The thought was atrocious. Not only was her firstborn son stupid, ugly, scruffy, and weak, he wasn’t the one Scar chose to become king. There was no way that she would ever allow that ball of termites to become a leader…
“Heh…just a thought.”
They went back to their den, the giant abandoned termite mound, hungry…again.
Only hours earlier, Zira had watched with sick satisfaction as Nala had run to scoop her dead son up in her paws, sobbing and screaming incoherently as she licked his wounds in vain, watching as Simba only stood in shock, his pupils constricting in horror, his legs trembling as if he were about to faint. Now her satisfaction had turned to frustration and anger. She had hoped that she could start a war, something to kill Simba quickly. But now…now he had his half of the pride alongside him, meaning that she had a large chance of losing.
“Get out, all of you, get out. Don’t ever show your faces here in my lands again,” Simba snarled, his body shaking in grief and anger. He did not want to start a war. No more lives neeed to be lost. Nala continued to weep over her cub, her baby son, his torn body pressed to her chest and her paws curled around him protectively.
Nuka whimpered from behind Zira’s foreleg. Get out of the Pridelands? Where would they go? What would they do?
“Fine with me. Now, Simba…” Zira’s face curled into a wicked smile. “Now you know what it feels like to have someone you love murdered. It’s horrible, isn’t it?” Her voice had quieted until it turned into a whisper, and she chuckled cruelly.
Simba roared furiously, the fur along his spine and hips bristling. “GET OUT! GET OUT, GET OUT!” He screamed, the words tearing at his throat. He was blind with his rage and grief, and tears came pouring out of his eyes. The lionesses behind Zira panicked and trotted quickly away, Tyira carrying little Vitani in her maw. Zira laughed evilly before picking up Kovu, his tiny mews drowned out by Simba’s mournful rage.
---
The news of the queen’s pregnancy ran like wildfire through the pride. Many felt that it was far too soon after Chaka’s death, but Simba and Nala hadn’t planned it that way. The two of them had to overcome their grief and be the king and queen they needed to be to rule the Pridelands. Though their sadness was covered by pleasantries and regal words, Simba’s and Nala’s nights were filled with terrible nightmares and tears as they held each other tightly.
Rafiki came for regular visits to check up on the king and queen, making sure Nala’s pregnancy went well and that the two of them were all right as they worked through their grief. The old shaman helped the couple to properly bury Chaka, giving him a bittersweet ceremony and allowing the king and queen to have a little bit of closure for their dead son. Simba swore to himself that he’d protect their next cub far better than he’d protected Chaka.
“I’m so sorry, son…I’m so sorry I failed you,” he’d whispered to his son’s headstone. He placed his paw upon the small mound of upturned soil. “I promise I’ll never let it happen to anyone again.”
---
Many months later
High up in a thick, old baobob tree, the old shaman Rafiki mumbled to himself as he clambered up the gnarled branches, feeling a bit old an gnarled himself. The things that had happened in Pride Rock were just new events to him, even though they saddened him somewhat. He’d seen many deaths, births, and many tragedies, and this was no different. It seemed that there was always some form of betrayal in every generation, every life cycle…
The wind teased his mandrill’s mane, and he glanced towards the clouds above.
“Oh, Mufasa…such a day dis has been! Princess Kiara’s birth…de circle has been completed and de pride is once more secure.”
It seemed that Mufasa had other plans, however. The wind gusted heavily, messing up Rafiki’s markings upon the tree. The circle that the mandrill had created was now…
“Broken? Mufasa, what do you tink you’re—“ But the shaman stopped mid-sentence, suddenly understanding that the dead king had an important message to convey. Rafiki glanced again at his painting.
“Trouble in de Pridelands…another cub? From de Outlands? Dis has to be Zira’s doing…” Rafiki knew that Zira had been the only one to have cubs—he’d seen her with them on that fateful day, when she and her followers left. “She was de one who followed Scar de closest…she was his mate and his queen. Scar’s most loyal follower…”
Mufasa’s wind gently brushed the mandrill’s fur, as if comforting him and telling him that everything would be all right.
---
The young brown cub giggled as he chased after the silly grasshopper. The dry sand didn’t allow for much cover, so the cub was able to see the bug and go after it easily.
“Graah! Gotcha!” He shouted, his emerald eyes alight with excitement. He caught the grasshopper between his paws and grinned before opening them to let the bug escape unscathed.
“Kovu!” His mother’s harsh, gravelly voice sounded behind him, and he turned to look in her direction. He was just in time to see her snatch the grasshopper from the air and slam it to the ground, effectively snuffing the life out of it. Kovu flinched, his natural morality still opposed to ending lives unnecessarily.
“Don’t let it go! What’s the matter with you?” Zira growled, scowling. It was important that Kovu learned to kill, learned to disregard the importance of life. She needed him to be brainwashed into a cold-blooded murderer. She was willing to give up her cub’s innocence for the sake of her beloved’s memory…
“B-but, Mother…he wasn’t hurting anyone…” Kovu whined in earnest, trying to reason with Zira.
Why is it so hard for me to break him in? Zira wondered. “There is no room for weakness, my son… Remember, Scar took you in as his own son…” Her voice became soft as she mentioned her dead mate and king. She remembered well…
A year and several months earlier, during Scar’s reign
It had been nearly a year since Zira had given birth to Nuka, the true son of Scar and the offspring of their love. She was his queen, his mate… she hadn’t realized, even then, that Scar had been using her. He fed her promises of letting her have power, of loving her, of giving her everything… he only wanted cubs from her, in the end. A way to immortality, in his mind. A way to carry on his reign for generations upon generations. So when Scar told her to find another male to mate with, a male to have stronger cubs, she complied immediately, blinded by her love and loyalty to only him.
Fast forward to when Scar fell into the pit of hyenas and fire… Zira was frantic, screaming at the hyenas and killing them all with a single blow each. Adrenaline pumped through her veins as she made her way to the torn and bleeding Scar, her beloved, beautiful mate… He’d whispered in her ear, telling her to make Kovu the next king, to kill Simba, to avenge him… with tears trailing down her face, and her ear torn and bloody, she’d sworn to do everything in her power to avenge all the wrongs done to him. Her sobs had been drowned out by the triumphant roaring of Simba and his lionesses…
Present time
“But…Mother, he wasn’t really my father…” Kovu’s voice reached Zira’s ears and snapped her back to reality. She almost snarled at him, thinking to tell him to be more grateful, to have more respect…but then, she remembered that she must make Kovu think he was important. To make him think like a prince and a king…
She pulled Kovu close, adopting an understanding expression. “No. But he chose you to become the next king. When you rule, we’ll no longer be forced to live in these dry, barren, disgusting, termite-infested OUTLANDS!” Her last words rang out and echoed, and she felt Kovu squirm as her claws dug into him unintentionally.
“Mother!”
“Mother! Mother!”
Two voices, one male, and one female, caught Zira’s attention, and she flicked her now-notched ear irritably. Her other two offspring sprang in front of her, each one as eager as the other to tell their mother news.
“We were there! In the Pridelands! We saw the whole thing!” Nuka yelled in earnest.
“At Pride Rock! We saw everything!” Vitani said loudly, looking at Nuka as if it were a retort.
“We saw Simba’s new cub!” They screeched in unison, both clambering over each other to tell Zira.
Zira growled softly in her irritation. A new cub? Competition for her young prince? She needed to hear this news from a calm and level-headed source…and Nuka was not it.
“Vitani! Tell me what happened!” She ordered, and her only female cub sat down upright immediately.
“Simba’s new cub is a girl!” She reported obediently. Relief washed through Zira’s veins at the news. Good! A female would be an easy kill, especially a young, spoiled one… Simba’s offspring would all probably be weaklings, just like Chaka was…
Zira laughed, her thin shoulders shaking. “A girl!” She looked to the sky and laughed joyfully, knowing that Scar would have been tickled at this news. “Did you hear that, my beloved Scar? This is perfect…”
Kovu and Nuka looked extremely worried for their mother’s sanity as she spoke to no one. But then, they were always worried for their mother’s mental well-being…
“Who is she talking to?” Nuka asked, and Kovu looked to his half-brother in agreement of the question.
“Shh. She’s talking to Scar,” Vitani explained. Apparently, females could understand each other better than males could…
“Scar? Where?!” Nuka asked stupidly, looking around. Kovu mentally rolled his eyes. Nuka could be so dumb sometimes…
“Scar’s dead, genius.” The comment came out of Vitani’s mouth easily. Nuka had never gotten very close to either his brother or sister, and they often argued, with the younger but smarter Vitani usually winning verbal arguments.
Zira looked back at her cubs at Vitani’s words. “Yes! He is dead because Simba murdered him. If not for Simba, Scar would still be king…and I would still be his devoted queen…”
“Ummm…” Nuka suddenly spoke up, catching Zira’s attention. “Well, since I’m the oldest, shouldn’t… shouldn’t I be king? I mean…”
“Of course not,” Zira sneered. Nuka, king? The thought was atrocious. Not only was her firstborn son stupid, ugly, scruffy, and weak, he wasn’t the one Scar chose to become king. There was no way that she would ever allow that ball of termites to become a leader…
“Heh…just a thought.”
They went back to their den, the giant abandoned termite mound, hungry…again.
Okay, so far, I've tried to get a bit of backstory and explanation on Chaka, the reason for Zira's banishment, Nuka's change of personality (though I'm not done with him yet), and how Kovu and Vitani came to be, plus Zira's relation to Scar.
In this chapter, I've tried to delve into Simba and Nala's character, and changed a couple of things about how Simba disciplines Kiara. Also, a character, perhaps familiar to you fans who know the 'cut out' version of SP, appears here...
Chapter 2
Spoiler: show
“Dad? Dad, get up… We’ve gotta go home…” The tiny golden cub pressed his paws to his father’s cheek, gently shaking him. He had to wake up…he just had to… he couldn’t go home without him, could he? Why wouldn’t he get up?
Panic struck the cub’s heart, and he backed away from the large, unmoving lion.
“Help! Somebody!” The tears shone in the cub’s eyes. “Anybody…” And then the sobs came. Realization came to the cub, a cold, hard truth. His father would not get up…his father would never get up again…
Morning broke over the Pridelands and peeked into the small den around the boulders, sending a sharp ray of light straight into it and onto the large, golden lion’s face. Simba awoke with a start, coming out of his dream and shaking off the terror he’d relived in his sleep. His beautiful mate lay near him, shifting as his jump disturbed her slumber. Her back was pressed to him, and her paws were curled in front of her. The tiny lines of worry and grief that normally lined her pretty eyes were relaxed, making her look peaceful and content…for now. The death of their son weighed heavily upon her still, though the joy of having their daughter was great.
The king gently licked Nala, his tongue caressing that soft, feathery spot behind her ear where she liked it most. She fluttered her eyelids and turned her eyes to him, smiling gently but tiredly. Her eyes had been slowly changing from that gorgeous light aquamarine color to a deeper, more blue hue as she aged, but he could sometimes see the light from the sun highlight them so that they went back to that original color he’d seen so many years ago. A few other things had changed within Nala after Chaka’s death—though she could still sometimes have a sharp tongue, most of her inner fire had gone out. She’d become a mere ghost of what she’d been before…his fiery, willful lioness had been broken by that terrible deed.
He smiled gently back at her before walking away, stretching and meeting the morning sun. Maybe Nala hadn’t been the only one who’d changed. Maybe he had, too. He found himself constantly worrying, constantly trying to clear his mind of the guilt he knew he deserved. The only thing left was to be a decent king and keep his daughter safe. Kiara was now everything he lived for. Speaking of which… his little cub was looking out into the Pridelands, much like Simba himself had done many times. Admiring his home, appreciating all that he had. But the nostalgic moment was quickly snuffed when he saw his daughter nearing the edge. A shard of worry pierced his heart and he lunged forward.
“Whoa! Where do you think you’re going?” He asked her, trying to inject a note of humor into his voice to hide his concern. When she wriggled and tried to squirm out of his grasp, he was immediately reminded of how he’d always pushed his mother and father away when they’d tried to hold him. A free spirit never wanted to be held down, physically or mentally… But he couldn’t afford to let Kiara have that free spirit. He couldn’t afford to lose his only daughter. He’d nearly committed suicide after Chaka had died, holding on only to the idea of Kiara, of having someone to take care of and cherish…what would happen to him if Kiara was gone, too?
“Daddyyyy…” The little ball of sunset orange whined up at him, her little nose scrunched up in an effort to get away. “Let go!”
“Kiara… you know I don’t like when you play so close to the edge of the promontory,” Simba chastised gently, lifting his paw to let her go. She immediately was distracted, the flapping wings of a butterfly catching her attention. Simba pinned her tail down before she pounced, becoming slightly irritated. Didn’t she know that he said these things to protect her?
“Kiara, listen to me!” He commanded, and she pinned her ears down in obedience. “Sorry, Dad…” She said quietly, now giving her father her full attention. Though Simba was not Mufasa in any sense, he’d adopted the old king’s ways of discipline, always expecting obedience. Strict, but protective and loving. Simba would pretend to be his dad sometimes, imagining Kiara as his old cub self.
Simba felt Nala’s presence behind him, knew she was watching him with his daughter. The golden lion began his lecture, though he’d said it many times before. Simba wanted the words to be imprinted upon Kiara’s heart, so that she would hear it running through her head if she ever wanted to do anything dangerous. Maybe, someday, it would save her life.
Kiara traced circles in the dirt with her claw as her father spoke, thoroughly bored. She knew everything he was saying already! But she listened anyway, intent on going to play as soon as he was done lecturing. Sure enough, the king finally stopped speaking and the little cub looked up at her father with large, shining eyes.
“Daddy, please can I go play now? I promise I won’t do anything bad…” While you’re watching, she thought, her heart thumping excitedly with the idea of adventure.
“Yeah, you can go play,” Simba said, rubbing his daughter’s head with a large golden paw.
Nala chose that time to speak up, satisfied with her mate’s handling of their cub. “Only if one of the lionesses goes with you,” she corrected, standing level with Simba. Kiara groaned in protest.
“Ugh… fiiiine… but, can Timira come?” Kiara asked, going from deflated to excited in a split second. Simba winced at the mention of the cub who had once been betrothed to Chaka. She was only a couple of months older than Kiara, and the two of them had become fast friends. But Timira was a constant reminder of Chaka, the son they once had, and the brother Kiara did not yet know she’d lost. Someday, Simba would tell her. Someday, when she was older and more able to carry the weight of the knowledge. She had a right to know.
“Yes, she can go with you if she wants,” Nala said gently, speaking around the knot in her throat. She’d sensed Simba’s reaction to the mention of the cub, knowing exactly how he felt. Everything was a reminder of the past they’d lost, the future they could have had…
“Yora,” Simba called, directing his attention to a light brown lioness nearby. She turned to her king, ears perked, and came forward.
“Yes, sire?” She asked, her green eyes shooting to Kiara and winking. Yora had been Kiara’s baby sitter ever since the little cub was born. She was young and still energetic, and she loved cubs. She was always more than happy to escort the princess wherever she needed.
“Would you mind watching Kiara and…and Timira while they play? I’ve got to do some border patrol today, and Nala must stay with Pride Rock.”
Yora grinned and nodded. “Of course I will. You know I just love this sugar ball,” she said, patting Kiara’s head with a brown paw. The princess giggled, enjoying the attention.
“Now, Kiara, I want you to stay far away from the borders. The Outlands are close by our territory, and the lions there cannot be trusted. They’re dangerous,” Simba warned.
“Really? How come?” She asked, tilting her head curiously. Simba looked down into his innocent daughter’s eyes and realized that he could not explain evil to her… not yet. She was too young and naïve, and he couldn’t destroy her innocence.
“Nevermind, it’s nothing,” he covered quickly. “Why don’t you go and play hide-and-seek with your friend?” Simba suggested, changing the subject. He exchanged a glance with Nala, whose eyes seemed to say, Nice save.
“I’ll go get Timira!” Kiara shouted enthusiastically, and she ran off to go find her friend.
“Okay, be safe. We love you!” Nala shouted to her daugher’s retreating figure. Yora followed her as quickly as she could, the cub’s energy boundless.
----
Yora lay upon a flat rock, the sun beating down with its warm rays and making her pant softly in the heat. Her green eyes remained fixed upon the two playing cubs, watchful and alert. She would make sure the two of them stayed safe, to make sure her queen never experienced that awful grief again… Yora had always admired Nala, admired her bravery in the times of Scar, admired her sharp wit and equally sharp tongue, admired her beauty and grace. Nala was the lioness everyone wanted to be. Except… except now, the queen was not the same lioness anymore. Nor, apparently, was Simba, but he hadn’t been back long enough for Yora to get to know him… She lay her head upon her paws, the sun making her feel drowsy. Her eyes slid closed, and a few minutes later, Yora had drifted off into sleep...
“Tag! Gotcha, Ki!”
“Okay, watch out! Here I come!”
The two female cubs’ laughter rang through the grasses, and they chased each other with their tails held high in the air. Suddenly, Timira stopped dead in her tracks. Kiara bumped into her and swatted Timira’s tawny shoulder, grinning.
“Gotcha!” She exclaimed gleefully. “Hey, what’re you—“
“Shh!” Timira shushed, gesturing with a paw. “Look!”
Kiara followed her friend’s hazel-eyed gaze to see Yora asleep in the sunlight. She turned to the other cub, a mischievous grin creeping into her features.
“You thinkin’ what I’m thinkin’?” She whispered, and Timira looked back with an equally wicked smile.
“Yep. Time to check out those scary Outlands,” she concurred, and the two of them took off like a shot…straight towards Zira’s territory.
Panic struck the cub’s heart, and he backed away from the large, unmoving lion.
“Help! Somebody!” The tears shone in the cub’s eyes. “Anybody…” And then the sobs came. Realization came to the cub, a cold, hard truth. His father would not get up…his father would never get up again…
Morning broke over the Pridelands and peeked into the small den around the boulders, sending a sharp ray of light straight into it and onto the large, golden lion’s face. Simba awoke with a start, coming out of his dream and shaking off the terror he’d relived in his sleep. His beautiful mate lay near him, shifting as his jump disturbed her slumber. Her back was pressed to him, and her paws were curled in front of her. The tiny lines of worry and grief that normally lined her pretty eyes were relaxed, making her look peaceful and content…for now. The death of their son weighed heavily upon her still, though the joy of having their daughter was great.
The king gently licked Nala, his tongue caressing that soft, feathery spot behind her ear where she liked it most. She fluttered her eyelids and turned her eyes to him, smiling gently but tiredly. Her eyes had been slowly changing from that gorgeous light aquamarine color to a deeper, more blue hue as she aged, but he could sometimes see the light from the sun highlight them so that they went back to that original color he’d seen so many years ago. A few other things had changed within Nala after Chaka’s death—though she could still sometimes have a sharp tongue, most of her inner fire had gone out. She’d become a mere ghost of what she’d been before…his fiery, willful lioness had been broken by that terrible deed.
He smiled gently back at her before walking away, stretching and meeting the morning sun. Maybe Nala hadn’t been the only one who’d changed. Maybe he had, too. He found himself constantly worrying, constantly trying to clear his mind of the guilt he knew he deserved. The only thing left was to be a decent king and keep his daughter safe. Kiara was now everything he lived for. Speaking of which… his little cub was looking out into the Pridelands, much like Simba himself had done many times. Admiring his home, appreciating all that he had. But the nostalgic moment was quickly snuffed when he saw his daughter nearing the edge. A shard of worry pierced his heart and he lunged forward.
“Whoa! Where do you think you’re going?” He asked her, trying to inject a note of humor into his voice to hide his concern. When she wriggled and tried to squirm out of his grasp, he was immediately reminded of how he’d always pushed his mother and father away when they’d tried to hold him. A free spirit never wanted to be held down, physically or mentally… But he couldn’t afford to let Kiara have that free spirit. He couldn’t afford to lose his only daughter. He’d nearly committed suicide after Chaka had died, holding on only to the idea of Kiara, of having someone to take care of and cherish…what would happen to him if Kiara was gone, too?
“Daddyyyy…” The little ball of sunset orange whined up at him, her little nose scrunched up in an effort to get away. “Let go!”
“Kiara… you know I don’t like when you play so close to the edge of the promontory,” Simba chastised gently, lifting his paw to let her go. She immediately was distracted, the flapping wings of a butterfly catching her attention. Simba pinned her tail down before she pounced, becoming slightly irritated. Didn’t she know that he said these things to protect her?
“Kiara, listen to me!” He commanded, and she pinned her ears down in obedience. “Sorry, Dad…” She said quietly, now giving her father her full attention. Though Simba was not Mufasa in any sense, he’d adopted the old king’s ways of discipline, always expecting obedience. Strict, but protective and loving. Simba would pretend to be his dad sometimes, imagining Kiara as his old cub self.
Simba felt Nala’s presence behind him, knew she was watching him with his daughter. The golden lion began his lecture, though he’d said it many times before. Simba wanted the words to be imprinted upon Kiara’s heart, so that she would hear it running through her head if she ever wanted to do anything dangerous. Maybe, someday, it would save her life.
Kiara traced circles in the dirt with her claw as her father spoke, thoroughly bored. She knew everything he was saying already! But she listened anyway, intent on going to play as soon as he was done lecturing. Sure enough, the king finally stopped speaking and the little cub looked up at her father with large, shining eyes.
“Daddy, please can I go play now? I promise I won’t do anything bad…” While you’re watching, she thought, her heart thumping excitedly with the idea of adventure.
“Yeah, you can go play,” Simba said, rubbing his daughter’s head with a large golden paw.
Nala chose that time to speak up, satisfied with her mate’s handling of their cub. “Only if one of the lionesses goes with you,” she corrected, standing level with Simba. Kiara groaned in protest.
“Ugh… fiiiine… but, can Timira come?” Kiara asked, going from deflated to excited in a split second. Simba winced at the mention of the cub who had once been betrothed to Chaka. She was only a couple of months older than Kiara, and the two of them had become fast friends. But Timira was a constant reminder of Chaka, the son they once had, and the brother Kiara did not yet know she’d lost. Someday, Simba would tell her. Someday, when she was older and more able to carry the weight of the knowledge. She had a right to know.
“Yes, she can go with you if she wants,” Nala said gently, speaking around the knot in her throat. She’d sensed Simba’s reaction to the mention of the cub, knowing exactly how he felt. Everything was a reminder of the past they’d lost, the future they could have had…
“Yora,” Simba called, directing his attention to a light brown lioness nearby. She turned to her king, ears perked, and came forward.
“Yes, sire?” She asked, her green eyes shooting to Kiara and winking. Yora had been Kiara’s baby sitter ever since the little cub was born. She was young and still energetic, and she loved cubs. She was always more than happy to escort the princess wherever she needed.
“Would you mind watching Kiara and…and Timira while they play? I’ve got to do some border patrol today, and Nala must stay with Pride Rock.”
Yora grinned and nodded. “Of course I will. You know I just love this sugar ball,” she said, patting Kiara’s head with a brown paw. The princess giggled, enjoying the attention.
“Now, Kiara, I want you to stay far away from the borders. The Outlands are close by our territory, and the lions there cannot be trusted. They’re dangerous,” Simba warned.
“Really? How come?” She asked, tilting her head curiously. Simba looked down into his innocent daughter’s eyes and realized that he could not explain evil to her… not yet. She was too young and naïve, and he couldn’t destroy her innocence.
“Nevermind, it’s nothing,” he covered quickly. “Why don’t you go and play hide-and-seek with your friend?” Simba suggested, changing the subject. He exchanged a glance with Nala, whose eyes seemed to say, Nice save.
“I’ll go get Timira!” Kiara shouted enthusiastically, and she ran off to go find her friend.
“Okay, be safe. We love you!” Nala shouted to her daugher’s retreating figure. Yora followed her as quickly as she could, the cub’s energy boundless.
----
Yora lay upon a flat rock, the sun beating down with its warm rays and making her pant softly in the heat. Her green eyes remained fixed upon the two playing cubs, watchful and alert. She would make sure the two of them stayed safe, to make sure her queen never experienced that awful grief again… Yora had always admired Nala, admired her bravery in the times of Scar, admired her sharp wit and equally sharp tongue, admired her beauty and grace. Nala was the lioness everyone wanted to be. Except… except now, the queen was not the same lioness anymore. Nor, apparently, was Simba, but he hadn’t been back long enough for Yora to get to know him… She lay her head upon her paws, the sun making her feel drowsy. Her eyes slid closed, and a few minutes later, Yora had drifted off into sleep...
“Tag! Gotcha, Ki!”
“Okay, watch out! Here I come!”
The two female cubs’ laughter rang through the grasses, and they chased each other with their tails held high in the air. Suddenly, Timira stopped dead in her tracks. Kiara bumped into her and swatted Timira’s tawny shoulder, grinning.
“Gotcha!” She exclaimed gleefully. “Hey, what’re you—“
“Shh!” Timira shushed, gesturing with a paw. “Look!”
Kiara followed her friend’s hazel-eyed gaze to see Yora asleep in the sunlight. She turned to the other cub, a mischievous grin creeping into her features.
“You thinkin’ what I’m thinkin’?” She whispered, and Timira looked back with an equally wicked smile.
“Yep. Time to check out those scary Outlands,” she concurred, and the two of them took off like a shot…straight towards Zira’s territory.
That was very depressing D: Poor Chaka D:
Poor little Nuka 
