angrily, the two lionesses behind him doing the same. They watched her every move. Simba spoke, his blood boiling. “You know the penalty for returning to the Pridelands!”

Zira whirled around and snapped at him. “But the child does not! However, if you need your pound of flesh…” She walked around Kovu and stood behind him. “…here…” she said, pushing his back with the bridge of her nose, allowing a surprised Kovu to scoot towards the king.

Kovu was still scared out of his mind and being moved against his frightened will towards a lion that had a terrible look of hate in his eyes not only for him but for his mother and his family was all he could bare. He trembled before the might of this gold lion, wondering what he was going to do now that his mother had all but offered him up. In his mind, he prepared to await a coming death.

Simba looked at Zira then to the cub, his thoughts racing. It would be so easy to kill him that is if he were alone. If he made any move to strike the cub down would Zira leap in and protect him? It was a hard question but he didn’t want to find out. Zira loved this cub in her own twisted way just as he loved Kiara but his love; the love of a parent was unconditional. He loved his dear daughter just as he had loved her brother, his first born, his only son…

The find was horrific and Simba, after being held in place for the longest time, ran out of the den and roared his sorrow.

Inside the den, tears streaming down her face, Nala lowered her body to the ground and with a trembling paw, pulled the beaten body of her son close to herself. She nuzzled him, a side of her face smeared in bright red blood. The other lionesses, those loyal to the royals, bowed their heads in silence. The echo of Simba’s roar filled their ears. Nala would have joined her mate but couldn’t. She wanted to feel what warmth remained in her son’s body for the last time.

Simba finally came into the cave, tears still in his eyes. His heart pounded. His son was gone, possibly murdered. He approached his mother and laid his head on his shoulder. Sarabi turned her head and licked her son’s muzzle, purring to try and calm him.

“My son, Mother… my son!” He shut his eyes tightly, the tears still falling. His legs trembled and he fell, the lionesses watching.

Sarabi lay down next to him. The King sobbed in his mother’s shoulder and Sarabi looked on with a few tears but not many. Her son was in a state of pain and suffering.

Simba’s whole body shook violently. Again, he lost someone close to him. Losing his father had been bad enough but he was a cub then, still too young to truly understand death but that day he had and now he was experiencing it again. He thought that when he became king, everything would be alright. Was he meant to suffer more losses throughout his life? Who would be next? Would it be Nala, the one lioness who meant everything to him? Without her, he wouldn’t be in the Pridelands and the pride would still be under the rule of Scar. Or would his mother, the last remaining relative of his family? It was an all too painful a thing to think about and Simba just cried, his own grief matching that of his mate’s.

The lionesses mourned quietly for the cub who would be their future king. Nala buried her head in her son’s fur, unable to look upon her mate. Kopa had been a good cub, kind and curious, something all cubs possessed. He never hurt anyone so why would someone hurt him? It didn’t make sense to any of them.

Emotionally exhausted Simba moved from his mother’s side and over to Nala’s. The queen put her head in her mate’s mane and Simba wrapped an arm around her. Their pain wasn’t gone and wouldn’t be for a long while. The sun had already set but no one was hungry. Silence lingered in the cave. No one spoke. The atmosphere was cold, almost haunting.

“Who could’ve done this Simba?” Nala asked her voice in a chilling whisper.

Simba turned and licked her head, purring. His heart still pounded but his eyes had something different about them. They were on fire, a fire of hatred. There were many who were not sure of his ruling in the Pridelands but many of the Pridelander lionesses supported him and encouraged him. The animals were not so trusting to him, even if he was the son of Mufasa but to them, he was a rogue who had taken a tyrant from the royal throne, but when Kopa was born and presented, their minds were changed. The Pridelands had an heir of true royal blood.

At last, he spoke. “I don’t know Nala, but whoever did this terrible crime will not be let off easy.” He snarled softly, his eyes snapping, showing nothing but pain and hate. He put his head on the ground but neither he nor Nala could tear their eyes away from their lifeless son. Without an heir the Pridelands would not live in good leadership. Simba shut his eyes. “Father, what have I done to deserve this? Please, help me!” he said quietly so as not to wake his mate, who had fallen asleep a few moments ago.

As the night fell, the pride still mourning, some of the lionesses unable to sleep but occupied to not pay attention, they failed to notice a lioness leaving the den and head to the lower cave of Pride Rock where sat another group of lionesses but they were a word. She approached them and bowed to another lioness with desert colored fur, red eyes, a notch in her right ear and a desert stripe going along her head to her shoulder blades.

“Zira, what if Simba suspects one of us killed his son? What if he suspects you? This spells the end for all of us!” said a lioness in fear, her pride sisters agreeing.

Another spoke. “Zira, we don’t like Simba any more than you do but at least he was merciful when he came back. At least he’s allowed us to stay here. If you really did kill the cub why would you? You’re a mother…” She paused, afraid to say more.

Zira, after hearing some of their takes on the day’s events, let out a breath and spoke. “Don’t worry. I have done no wrong. That Simba comes here after so many years and thinks he’s the king just because his father was? Well, Scar was the son of a king but that made no difference. He was still treated as an outcast by his father and his brother. In my eyes Scar did what was right by killing Mufasa. You all know how picky he was and how he liked things to be just so? Simba is just like Mufasa in all ways. Just as Mufasa would’ve gotten rid of Scar, Simba did.” She paused and smiled to her friends. “And you have helped me through my grief. Simba did kill Scar though not by his own paws but he did send him over the high stone of Pride Rock to the hyenas’ jaws.” She growled. “Those pathetic mongrels and Simba wanted him gone! Through Simba, the Pridelands may have had an heir but what he forgot was that Kovu had already been anointed. Scar wanted it that way because my Kovu looked so much like him.” She glanced in the direction where her son and his sister slept, watched over by her oldest son, Nuka.

The other lionesses turned their eyes as well, some nodding, others not sure. They fell asleep, wondering about what the future had in store for them.

They found out the next morning. Though he couldn’t prove it, somehow he knew. Simba declared that Zira, her cubs and her followers be exiled to the Outlands and if they returned they would be killed for trespassing.

She was angry with him and wanted to kill him but Simba was still a young lion where she was no longer a young lioness. She had grown old but not old enough where she couldn’t fight. Watching her pride, she faced the lion.

“One day Simba, you will pay for your crimes against me. Scar will be avenged. My son Kovu will spill your blood as you spilt Scar’s. He will be the next rightful king of the Pridelands!” Her fury was still there and she let out a tremendous roar that shook the ground but Simba was unmoved by it.

She turned and went towards her son, picking him up by his back. Simba watched, seeing a soon to be dead innocence in the cub’s eyes. His own son was gone and nothing could bring him back. He couldn’t risk having more of his family die at this vengeful lioness’s paws. He felt that exile was the only thing he could do.

He looked up to the sky. “Father, have I done the right thing?”

Simba noticed that Zira was smiling. He looked down at the cub again, his worry beginning to build but he found his voice. “Take him and get out.” He turned. “We’re finished here.” He walked towards Kiara who lowered herself to the floor of the dirt. He gently picked her up by the scruff of the neck. He would’ve moved, to leave the sight but Zira’s voice stopped him and caused him to side turn her way.

“Oh no Simba,” said the lioness, coming to him. “We have barely begun.” She put her eyes to Kiara and chuckled evilly.

Simba just stared at her, unable to speak with his daughter in his mouth. He could only watch as Zira moved from him to her son, taking him not by the scruff but by his back, causing the cub to grunt a bit in pain. When their cubs were in their mouths the two parties walked away from each other.

Simba walked in one direction toward the Pridelands, Nala by his side, the two lionesses along with Timon