AN: Thank you so much to everyone who's read or reviewed this story over the years, and I hope you find this a fitting conclusion.

A Great and Glorious Future

Sarafina was dead. Just like all those innocent cubs, just like Mufasa and poor young Simba, just like friends and family from years gone by. Death was as natural as their births had been, as commonplace as the hunt- but for Tulivu, it was a dreaded, recurring pain whose sting she had never quite become accustomed to. Though she knew the majority of the pride felt no sorrow at the loss of their despised queen, she couldn't help grieving, even if only silently. She understood Sarafina too well to ever hate her.

Tulivu couldn't connect to her the same way the younger lionesses could; she had never been a leader among the pride, even during her former hunting days, and, as much as she liked cubs, she'd never wanted one of her own. But she liked to think she had been something of a confidante to her throughout her short lifetime. After all, she'd watched her grow from Sarabi's shy tagalong friend into a troubled adolescent stumbling for guidance, uncertain in the sudden burdens of her emerging beauty and the death of her mother.

Then Sarafina had given birth, and everything changed. In both the new, struggling parent and the reclusive queen, Tulivu saw little of the young lioness who'd secretly confided in her about her dreams of a future full of joy and beauty and, above all, someone who would love her with the passion she knew she could return- if only she was given the chance. Instead, Sarafina seemed to have forgotten herself and fully embraced a new identity: Nala's mother. She'd abandoned her dreams of another returning her love and happiness, and focused all she had left on her daughter.

All this Tulivu saw clearly only now, through the lens of hindsight. She'd never been concerned with Sarafina's happiness because the other lioness had given her no reason to doubt it. How could she offer help to one who never sought it? It was natural for a young mother to devote so much of her life to her cub. It was expected that her new position as queen would separate her from the rest of the pride, and the general pride's treatment of her, though harsh, was an understandable response to her actions during the ritual. Whether she was raising her daughter or strolling demurely through her lands, Sarafina behaved as though surrounded by an ineffable aura of contentment. It was only at her death that Tulivu could finally piece together all the scattered bits of information and whispered rumors, viewing a whole that expressed more than the distortions of idle gossip.

All the nights Imani saw her walking aimlessly through the savanna, always alone.

That time Kianga ran into her at the side of the waterhole- she looked like she'd been crying.

That evening in the den when Tulivu herself watched her desperately try to make conversation with an unwilling Lia- she just wanted someone to talk to, she pleaded.

"What about you, Tulivu? Think she did it?"

Tulivu blinked at the sound of her name, momentarily confused. She was so caught up in her own speculation that she'd almost managed to convince herself that a spirited discussion on a closely related topic wasn't going on around her. But now, as the lioness standing before her flattened her ears in impatience and the eyes of a dozen more turned toward her expectantly, she felt her face heat up with a blaze that had nothing to do with the warmth of the rock on which she lay sunning. Now she was in the spotlight, the latest commentator on the pride's new favorite subject: the late Queen Sarafina. And it sickened her.

The same lionesses who'd treated Sarafina so coldly only the day before now seemed to have had their interest in her suddenly renewed. Her death, in the minutes after it was announced, was first assumed to be an accident- a mere caprice of the Great Spirit. But when the question of suicide was raised, the minds of many lionesses latched onto this new topic with the ease of claws sinking into the hides of prey. The rumor, at once plausible and compelling, was instantly strengthened by the report of a group of young lionesses, who'd seen her alive only hours before: Sarafina had gone off into the savanna alone, distraught and unwilling to speak. From there, nearly the entire pride seemed swept up in a whirlwind of speculation and memory, searching for the key recollection that could bring their theory about Sarafina's emotional state into a reality. Because, if it were true, at last she finally came to understand the grief the others experienced upon losing their cubs. At last the score was even, and at last justice was done. The death of another pride member had never been all but celebrated so openly in recent memory, but for those who'd experienced the pain of the ritual directly, it was the first time that death had seemed so overwhelmingly fair.

This notion of retribution seemed to implicitly bring another lioness to the minds of certain pride members, one who hadn't caused so much controversy since her arrival in the kingdom. Though Kaidi had been largely ignored since her failure to save her daughter from the effects of the ritual, now some wondered if she couldn't have been the one who sent Sarafina to her death at the bottom of the canyon- one last, desperate attempt to strike out at the rulers and beliefs that she'd learned to hate so much. Her attempts to separate herself still further from the rest of the pride, assumed at the time to have arisen from her grief, now appeared to have afforded a perfect opportunity for her to secretly plot her revenge. Unlike Sarafina, however, any clues about the mindset of such a solitary figure were much harder to collect. The only ones who'd come into contact with her recently were apparently Lia and Scar, and neither seemed eager to divulge what they knew.

These topics had become so popular that, as she stared into the eager eyes of the young lioness before her, Tulivu was uncertain whether she was being asked if Sarafina had jumped to her death or been murdered. Either prospect being discussed so casually- even happily- disgusted her, but she knew better than to voice this thought. If recent events had proven anything, acting against the majority of the pride's opinion never worked out well for anyone. She looked down, unable to manage more than a quiet "I don't know."

"Well, yeah, I don't know either, but don't you even have an opinion? I'd bet anything it was Kaidi. If only someone had seen her...!" The other lioness shook her head, then laughed under her breath. "I'm just torn here, you know? It's like, half the time I'm thinking 'that chick was totally crazy.' And then the other half, I'm all 'but damn, do I love her for it!' I mean, you have to admit Sarafina got what was coming to her." She paused expectantly once more, apparently seeking Tulivu's affirmation.

"I think I'd better leave," Tulivu said abruptly. "I'm... not feeling well." It wasn't a lie. Without waiting for the other lionesses' response, she carefully padded down the rocks and proceeded toward the waterhole.

Kaidi was right about one thing, Tulivu thought as she walked along the old familiar path. The ritual is barbaric. She stopped in her tracks at this thought. It felt so intimately familiar that she knew it had been a part of her for years, but she had never admitted it until now- not even to herself.

The first time she'd experienced it, she was an adolescent- in the days when the storied leader Mohatu prepared to be reunited with the Great Spirit, while the future parents of Mufasa and Scar were crowned king and queen. Just as had happened most recently, the cubs weren't told about their fate. The only difference was that she wasn't, either. The youngest lioness to escape the ritual's necessity, Tulivu was tasked with keeping them entertained while the new king, in her mother's words, prepared to "make his title a reality." So she played and chatted and told stories, while the new king entered and the older lionesses blocked off the entrance to the den.

Then, as if in a nightmare, she'd watched as all the cubs met their end. Some attempted to run and hide in the cavern that had never before seemed so small and claustrophobic, others attempted to fight back, and, worst of all, some called for her or their mothers to help. But the cubs were defenseless against an adult lion, an accepting pride, and herself, frozen with fear. And so's this entire pride. She began walking again, head tilted to the ground, seeing nothing but memories.

What could she have done? The grisly scene before her came as such a shock that, for the first few moments, it seemed completely removed from reality. As the truth began to sink in, it was self-preservation that held her back. She had just barely escaped being one of those horrified, mangled cubs, all by virtue of having been born earlier. If she resisted, who was to say the king wouldn't change his mind about her? More than that, though, Tulivu had always been viewed as a loyal lioness, a dutiful subject, a true Pridelander. And, as she had been taught her entire life, her pride was so much more enduring and prosperous than others only because its members cooperated, seeking only the best for each other. Why fight against something she didn't fully understand? She was just an ordinary pride member, still practically a cub; maybe this was another one of those things the nobler and older knew better of than she. So she continued to play the dutiful subject, confused and frightened as she was, and allowed her homeland to continue to prosper. To prosper so much that the ritual could happen again.

She'd told herself it was different when Scar came to power, and somehow she'd believed it. Believed it so much that she had to be the loyal lioness again. After all, she'd experienced the ritual herself; as one of the oldest in the pride, it was practically her duty to assist the others through this difficult time. She took on more jobs than she'd ever had to handle, and she did them all well: comforting the mothers, retelling the story of the ritual's importance, carrying out Scar's messages, distributing the sleeping powder... even laying the cubs' lifeless bodies in the center of the den for their mothers to collect.

Now utterly nauseated, Tulivu collapsed onto the damp ground before the waterhole. And so am I.

She lay there silently, eyes closed, until the feeling of sickness had slightly abated. Or maybe she'd only succeeded once again in suppressing her feelings of guilt- she couldn't tell which. It was irrelevant at this point anyway; all the damage had already been done. Grateful for the solitude, she pulled herself to her paws and drank cautiously from the waterhole, slowly opening her eyes against the sun's rays.

It was the sight of her wavering reflection that reminded her of the last time she saw Kaidi, before the young lioness vanished from the Pridelands entirely. As Tulivu reported Scar's message, she'd noticed its recipient's shabby appearance, her staring, intense eyes. She looked, well, almost crazy. Maybe the theory of her murdering Sarafina really did have some merit. This would be a key piece of information to the other lionesses, she knew, though as soon as she thought it she became equally certain that she could never speak of it to anyone. Kaidi had been right about the ritual, but, if the rumors were true, she'd turned out to be just as vile and hypocritical as everyone else. It wasn't certain prides that were barbaric after all- it was every single loathsome lion that comprised them. It was the whole barbaric world.

Tulivu was in no hurry to return to Pride Rock. It felt gauche, even repugnant, for her to be there among the others, as old and guilty as she was, while the young and innocent died all around her.

Scar had never wanted Sarafina as his mate, much less his queen. He couldn't say he despised her, or even resented her- that would imply that she was worthy to be considered on his level. She was merely an annoyance, with her clingy, dependent ways the only degree of influence she held over anyone. But those quiet demands had done nothing but make his life more difficult from nearly the moment his reign began. They were so subtle, so outwardly innocuous, that by now, when he finally realized he was in too deep, the surging tide of the pride's potential to revolt had already reached his throat.

If that manipulative nature had been intentional, maybe then he'd have a grudging respect for her. But he knew that, just like with her beauty, Sarafina was vapidly unaware of the power she held, and it was her very innocence that brought about danger itself. If he had realized this earlier, back when taking control of the Pridelands appeared so simple, he never would have accepted her terms and spared Nala's life. Without even half the degree of his intelligence and deliberation, she'd managed to set the pride against him and entrap him into caring for herself and her daughter, whether she was entirely aware of it or not.

Even with all that, he'd never wanted her dead. It was only fitting, then, that she'd go and get herself killed- just to frustrate all his efforts one last time.

By not fully carrying out the ritual, Scar had already placed himself in a precarious position with regard to the lionesses' view of him; that was apparent from the outset. But at that time, all his worries had concerned the pride rebelling against him. He had never expected Sarafina to take the brunt of their feelings of hatred and need for vengeance, and to become, over time, the very symbol of the flagrant injustice he knew he had committed by killing every cub but one. At first, he was grateful for this. The only opposition he faced came from Kaidi and Lia, secretly plotting against him- as though he had ever once been off his guard since taking the throne- and they were no threat: one had already done enough to warrant a swift exile, and the other was clearly too indecisive to stick to a plan, if they even had one; her failed suicide proved that.

But he still hadn't expected Kaidi to turn her focus to Sarafina. On the surface, it appeared an absolutely senseless means of attempting to get revenge on him- she clearly had never seen the king and queen interact- and a foolish move if she had any hope of escaping the Pridelands alive. And yet, if things got any worse, that final instance of rebellion could mean his downfall. Kaidi had proven that, under his rule, even a single lioness was capable of taking on what she despised and destroying it, all without getting caught. Now if one or many of them disagreed with his policies, his hyena guards, or even his rule itself, they'd be inspired to act. And with Sarafina's death, there was no one else left to take the blame.

Scar looked out over his lands from the edge of Pride Rock, annoyed that there was still no sign of Shenzi and the others. Simply killing Kaidi would be enough to quell any potential uprisings, but he knew his efforts may have already been hours too late. Even more disheartening than that, however, was the sight of the majority of the pride's lionesses engaged in conversation as they sunned on the rocks below. He had already received reports of their joy at learning of Sarafina's death, which, on its own, would seem to promise increased loyalty and morale. But right along with it came news that seemed to foretell disaster: they already suspected Kaidi's involvement, even though neither he nor Lia had spoken of it to others. And, worse yet, some even admired her for her treacherous actions.

From here on out, it all depended on how they perceived him. Scar hadn't yet faced any direct defiance from the rest of the pride, so their opinion of him was likely still neutral- slightly mistrustful at worst. If that was the case, all he needed was one triumph: something to establish his mastery of the situation and absolute dominance over the Pridelands. Announcing the news of Kaidi's capture and death would be the best scenario, but if the hyenas proved themselves incapable yet again, he'd be forced to improvise. Perhaps he could grant the lionesses who'd lost their cubs some sort of privilege; with luck, their joy over Sarafina's death would draw their attention away from the reason they'd first come to despise her. Just one triumph, one victory over any potential rebellion, and it would be like his error at the ritual had never occurred. He'd have the lionesses' favor and submission again, for the first time since Mufasa's death.

At least until the next crisis, he thought bitterly. Even from such a great height, he imagined he could hear the lionesses down below exulting in his failure, all respect for him lost with Sarafina. Are we really trusting the kingdom to a lion who can't even protect his own mate? Scar turned away from the edge with a growl, stalking off toward his den. The turn his thoughts were taking repulsed him. He was the absolute monarch, and here he was desperately devising plans to curry his subjects' favor, the way the hyenas used to dance and slaver before him for a haunch of meat. Why should he seek the obedience and adulation demanded of his subjects by right? It was their responsibility; not his.

If he couldn't have their reverence, at least he'd have their fear. It didn't matter anymore whether Kaidi lived or died. As soon as the hyenas returned from their mission, he'd instruct Shenzi to encourage her clan to hold nothing back in their treatment of the lionesses. He refused to let anyone make him appear to be an ineffective ruler; Sarafina and Kaidi had done enough damage already. The laws of the Pridelands- his laws, now- would be severely enforced, and all who rebelled would be made an immediate example of.

Of course, it wouldn't come to this if the pride was cooperative. They'd soon come to see he was a better king than Mufasa, than even Mohatu, than all the illustrious rulers whose shadows he'd lived in for so long. All they needed was a little guidance.

"Please...can you help me? I-I'm all alone..."

Scar stopped short at the entrance to his den as his gaze fell upon the cowering cub in the cavern's center. Nala. The one element that refused to fit into his vision for the future, already useless as his heir. Worse than useless- her association with Sarafina would garner nothing but enmity from the pride. How could he possibly maintain their loyalty by raising the cub whose mother's actions had come so close to driving the kingdom to anarchy? Why did he have any responsibility to care for her at all? Sarafina had manipulated him again- promised him her loyalty and abandoned him to handle all the work. He couldn't accept this. Not now that he'd made his decision.

"E-Everyone in the pride hates my mom," Nala said as she approached him, her gait as unsteady as her voice. "I heard them talking. They- they're glad she's dead! They say she made the other cubs' lives worthless, and d-destroyed everything that made the Pridelands great... all because she tried to protect me." She broke off and took several deep breaths, her claws extending and retracting, before she spoke again. "What am I gonna do? They must hate me too; maybe even wanna kill me! I know it's my duty to rule, an-and obey the Great Spirit's wishes... but how will I if everyone feels this way?!"

Sarafina's turquoise eyes shimmered up at him from this child's face. Staring into their blue-green depths, Scar felt he was looking into the future- into a time when Nala would resemble her mother in character as well as features. Another worthless, selfish lioness, forever tied to him by rash promises made early in his reign, always working to bend him to her will and turn the pride still further against him- all without ever understanding her actions' full import. He'd gotten to Nala too late for her to be capable of becoming his heir; already she was demanding he protect and provide for her, while making no effort to do anything in return. She simply couldn't be his daughter- she was Sarafina, back again, never to grant him a moment's peace. He had to stop her before she ruined him again.

He remained silent for a moment, contemplating the best course of action, then slowly, uncertainly, began stroking her back with his paw. "My dear Nala, I have the answer," Scar said.

Nala's breathing relaxed slightly; her taut muscles loosened. She turned her head up to look Scar in the eye. "R-Really?"

"Of course," he said. Then, pushing down against Nala's back, he pinned her to the cavern floor, and pressed the claws of his free paw to her exposed throat. "You won't."

"Nala, Nala, what am I going to do with you?" Scar asked, taking on a playful, mock-scolding tone that Nala had never heard from him before. "So like your mother..."

She couldn't see how that was true. Ever since the stampede occurred and everything turned out wrong, her mother had begun telling her that she was the perfect cub. Though Sarafina seemed absolutely convinced of this statement, Nala had always struggled to believe it too. You're getting so strong, her mother would say after yet another training session. Such a clever girl, she said when her daughter memorized the rulers of the Pridelands up to ten generations back on her first try. She's growing every day, Sarafina would remark cheerfully to any member of the pride who happened to be present. But now, pressed to the floor of the cave and forced to stare up into the expressionless green eyes of the lion who loomed above her, apparently moments away from tearing out her throat, Nala had never felt so weak and stupid and small.

"No regard for anything but your petty concerns," Scar said. "Showing your gratitude for all I've done by making further demands." He smiled now, shaking his head slightly as though thinking of a joke. "You deluded child, you selfish little brat- why, you're the very image of the late Queen Sarafina."

Nala seemed to react to the impact of his words before she'd fully comprehended their meaning. She writhed beneath his heavy paw, only for her heaving chest to be pushed harder against the stone. Her foggy thoughts barely registered the effort now required for even a shallow breath, while the warning claws against her neck meant nothing beyond a means of keeping her head upright. They were temporary, having only the potential for death- unlike his words, which made it so. The damning words of the one lion to whom she'd believed she could turn. Even as her body struggled in vain, her mind remained frozen, focused on those distant eyes above.

"You needn't mourn her, Nala," Scar said. "She was only grateful you'd been spared because it meant another subject in her court. Had she her way, she'd be content to do nothing while the Pridelands fell to ruin around her. It was all her nature, her narcissism- do you know what that means?" He scanned her unmoving face as though awaiting a response. "Your mother didn't care about you. She never did. Not about her responsibilities, or her kingdom, or anything beyond herself. If she hadn't died, she would surely have forgotten your existence."

Nala blinked rapidly, her steady gaze finally wavering. "Don't," she muttered, barely hearing herself.

"What was that?" Scar asked. Nala felt another set of claws press against her back.

She gritted her teeth. What else was there to lose? "Don't talk about her like that."

Scar smiled again. "You must have heard the rest of the pride say far worse. Wasn't that the reason you came here? I daresay you're the only one willing to defend her at all. And if you'd like a reminder of how this pride treats dissenters," he went on, "you can always look into the canyon."

Nala closed her eyes, tried to forget like she had so many times before. But she'd already imagined it. Her eyes snapped open.

"They will murder you, Nala," Scar said, bringing his face closer to hers. All she could see was her unwanted vision, a lurid afterimage. "Just like Kaidi killed your mother. All it took was one lioness. What chance have you against an entire pride?

"I'm only telling you this to protect you," Scar went on, "no matter how much it hurts to hear it. As ruler of the Pridelands, I'm bound to act in the best interests of all my subjects, no matter what. You should be grateful I've managed to intervene in time." He took his paw away from her back and retracted the claws on his other paw just enough for Nala to move her head.

"Go back among the rest of the pride. Renounce your title and any connections to Sarafina, and forget how she sought to instill you with her delusions of grandeur and duty. There are many lionesses still grieving the loss of their cubs. I'm sure one of them will take pity on you." Scar moved further away from her, giving her space to exit the den. "Your royal training is no longer necessary. From now on, you've only one lesson to remember: stay out of my sight."

Nala shakily got to her paws and trudged toward the den's opening. It hurt to breathe. She could still feel the imprints of the cavern's pebbles against her stomach and chest, as well as four searing points of pain across her neck. Just as the light of the outside world hit her, she stopped. She'd been following the rules for so long, she'd almost forgotten that she'd ever done anything else. But now a flash of that younger, wiser Nala returned: the cub who'd race her best friend to the ends of the earth, who'd try anything once if it promised excitement, and who'd always, always, spoken her mind. Her vision blurred. Nala turned to face the lion she'd once viewed as her savior.

"I know!" she shouted, in a voice hoarse and tremulous from disuse. "I know you killed my friends!"

And before Scar could respond, she fled- away from Pride Rock, away from the lionesses who'd rather see her dead, away from the image of her mother's broken body- but could never manage to outpace the shameful, childish tears she'd kept hidden for so long.

Visiting Rafiki's baobab tree had seemed a simple enough prospect when Lia first made her decision. It was only now, as she stood at the base of its massive trunk and squinted into the leafy canopy above, that she realized the journey over had been the easy part. Dwarfed by her task before it had even begun, she now started to believe that returning to Pride Rock would be far simpler. How could she be so naïve, expecting the shaman to seriously consider her proposal? Why would he, the earthly link between kings current and past, want to confer with an ordinary lioness who'd grown to despise the monarchy entirely? She turned away, shaking her head at yet another instance of her own pathetic indecision- always too little, too late.

A clattering sound behind her made her pause mid-step, her ears twitching. Slowly turning around, she expected to see Rafiki having caught her in the act of cowardice, pointing his staff at her accusatorily. As she realized the source of the noise, however, she sighed, unsure whether it was out of relief or disappointment. It was only the strings of gourds hanging from the branches of the baobab, knocking against each other in the wind. A second later a red-and-blue face peered out from the foliage, and before Lia could decide whether to speak up in greeting or run off in fright, the mandrill was already climbing down the trunk to meet her.

"Lia!" Rafiki said, patting her on the shoulders. "What a pleasant surprise!"

"Sorry if I'm bothering you so soon after... well, everything," Lia said, not quite able to look him in the eye. The last time she'd spoken to him had been only a few terse words hours before, when they'd trekked into the canyon to investigate the site of Sarafina's death, and the last time she'd seen him had been when he'd spoken the ceremonial words to commemorate the former queen's life. In both instances, she'd shown so few outward responses that most of what he'd said appeared entirely one-sided. She was sure Rafiki already suspected how closely involved she had been in the events that led to the supposed murder, and she didn't want to provide him with any evidence that would make him distrust her more. Her guilt meant nothing coming so far after the fact.

For the first time that Lia could remember, Rafiki looked tired and old. When he spoke, however, his voice had the same vibrant energy she was accustomed to. "No worries!" he said. "I'm sorry I never dropped by to visit again! How are you feeling?"

Lia sighed. "Pretty terrible, honestly. At least now I can see straight." She shook her head. "But don't worry about me. I've made it this far, after all, and I can keep going... I guess. I think I've figured something out."

"Oh? Anything I'd know?"

"You'll have to tell me," Lia said. "I should have spoken to you back at Pride Rock, but I didn't realize you wouldn't be staying long. I think I was expecting something more for Sarafina- like when you presented Simba as the future king. But then, we never really did anything for Mufasa either, did we? It's almost funny, the traditions here: so much for a birth, nothing for a death." She tried to laugh, but it caught in her throat.

Rafiki waited for her to continue, leaning on his staff in silence. Lia knew he was acting out of sympathy, but his patience seemed only to make her doubt worse- the last thing she needed to hear was more of her own thoughts.

Might as well get this over with. Lia brought her gaze level with his.

"To tell you the truth, ever since th- since Tojo was killed, I've thought of nothing but death. Sometimes it feels like I never knew anything different," she began. "Of course I always knew about it: my own mother died when I was a cub. But this was different. I held his body- saw the blood darkening his fur and stared into eyes that would never look back, and after that, well... then I couldn't see anything else.

"I'd see him, silent and bleeding and dead, everywhere I turned- in my thoughts, in my dreams, in the prey under my claws as I hunted each day. The entire world changed that night- I realized death was everywhere. My mother, and our king, and my son- they were all dead, and someday, everyone else here would be, too. I just didn't see the point of waiting for it any longer- but you already knew that." She sighed.

"I'm just being selfish, aren't I? Even the other mothers aren't taking it so badly, and what makes my grief worse than anyone else's?" Her voice quavered. "I just... I can't help it. My own experiences aren't the worst in the world, I know... but they still feel that way to me.

"But that isn't what I wanted to talk to you about," she said. "I'm really wasting your time, aren't I?"

"Not at all," Rafiki said. "But just between you and me,"- he leaned toward her conspiratorially- "I'd say you've wanted to talk about this for a while."

Lia shuffled her paws. "Well, yeah... I guess you're ri-"

"Don't guess!" He took up his staff, rattling the stick's hanging gourds near her face. "If you're really all alone in the world, shouldn't you at least trust yourself?"

"I'm trying, really!" Lia said, surprised to find herself on the edge of laughter. "That's what I came here for."

"Well! Go on..."

"I must sound so self-pitying now," she said, "but that isn't all I felt. I wasn't just upset Tojo was dead- I was furious. He was murdered, treated with less dignity than our prey, and Scar thought we'd all be obedient and mindless enough to forget. But realizing death was everywhere had changed me, too: I wanted to kill.

"I thought if I died, I could escape- but I didn't have the nerve. Still don't." She looked away, head downturned. "And then I thought of killing Scar. I could make him understand exactly what he put Tojo through, only he'd feel the whole thing and know damn well why. I didn't know how I was going to do it, but I believed it would happen. Maybe that's what kept me going. I must have killed him in my mind a thousand times before I realized I didn't have the nerve for that, either."

Lia looked back into Rafiki's eyes, even as her guilt continued to tug at her thoughts. "I hated Sarafina, too, you know. Not like Scar- I never wanted to kill her. But I was jealous- seeing her beautiful little daughter, who'd played with my son just days before, loving a mother who didn't know anything about sadness and death. It made me sick.

"When I saw her down there, though, bleeding at the bottom of the canyon, I forgot all about myself. She'd never done anything to hurt anyone else, and I wouldn't let another innocent lion die like my son- not if I could help it. I thought the ritual had changed me for the worse, but maybe it also showed me who I really was. Death is everywhere, and I'm no murderer. But maybe I can help prevent it. It was too late for Sarafina. It isn't for anyone else."

She looked up at Rafiki's baobab, squinting through the layer of leaves into the heart of the tree. There lay a store of secrets, known only to him, the tools through which he could contact spirits, mark the royal- and heal.

"So the point of all that is, well, you live so far from the pride," Lia said. "And it must be kind of inconvenient for you to come out all the time, like you did for Sarafina... and me." She swallowed. "I was thinking maybe it'd be easier for you if you had a helper at Pride Rock- someone who could give out medicine and take care of smaller wounds, so you could focus on more important things. Maybe that way more could get done... I mean, if that's all right with you...?"

Rafiki grinned. "A helper, eh? And who do you think would be right for the job?"

"Well, I know a lot about medicine," Lia said. "My mother used to teach my brother and me about the plants that grow here, in case we ever needed something besides hunting to survive. It was a couple weeks before she died- that's why I remember everything she told me so well. It's, well, how I knew about the malpitte."

"Now that's the Lia I used to know! I'd say you're hired."

"You must have things up in that tree that I couldn't begin to figure out," she went on. "But maybe you could teach me about them, if it wouldn't be too much trouble. I know you've never let any other lion work with you before-"

Rafiki put a finger to her lips. "Only because no other lion's ever asked! How soon would you like to start?"

"As soon as possible," Lia said. "I think we could all use a distraction."

"Say no more," Rafiki said, turning around and heading to his tree. "First, I'll get you some water."

"All right, what for?"

"You've been talking for so long, you might just pass out from exhaustion! And besides," he added, suddenly serious, "I think the Pridelands are gonna need all the help they can get..."

Escaping the maze of bones that shaped the Elephant Graveyard was as simple as finding one of its crumbling rock walls and keeping to its side. Through tracing its sloping path, negotiating over skulls and under ribcages all the while, one would eventually come to a point where the skeletal inhabitants of the canyon grew scarce and finally vanished entirely. From there, it was only a matter of following the shadowed path ahead until one reached a point beyond the borders of the Pridelands, far past the lines of hyena guards waiting ravenously at their posts. After that, no further directions were necessary. A whole world lay out there, open and ready for any daring lioness to make it her own.

Kaidi knew all this, had raced through the victory scenario in her mind a hundred times before. Yet she couldn't seem to creep out of the skull in which she'd hid for the last few hours, could not even place one paw in front of the other. Now, free from the strictures of a kingdom she had never called her own, she felt more trapped than ever before.

She knew from experience that the closest surrounding lands were anything but hospitable. Stretches of cracked, barren ground dotted the landscape, worthless dead spaces that even scavengers avoided. The enclosing savannas seemed to be places only of transition: rogues and other outcasts would hunt there briefly, then move on, forever in search of better prospects. And the deserts, like so much else in her life, were too much for one lioness to handle alone. She knew the tricks that would get her through the first few days there, but if she wanted to survive, she'd need a whole pride. A whole pride she could depend on and support, one that would truly be home. Like the Machwa Pride.

They'd welcome her gladly, she knew: the adolescent who took the longest in the history of her pride to come back an adult. She'd be among family and friends, sunset-coated lions who thought and acted like herself, and could once again fall into her old routine- after all, she'd never truly abandoned it. Soon, with each simple golden day fading into the next, it would be almost like she'd never left. Like she'd never made an unplanned detour, like Tama had never existed. Maybe she'd even begin to believe it.

But someday, with their hunters' instincts, the rest of the Machwa Pride would realize the difference between Kaidi and themselves. Not through her behavior, not through any outward violation of the Law of the Pride, but through the secret guilt that had already become a part of her. The blood on her paws.

She'd murdered Sarafina. Her motivations, her struggles, her grief- none of that meant anything when it all came to the same bloody conclusion. A fellow lioness, as guiltless as she'd been that very night, had walked dazedly into her plans and been sent to a certain, painful death, one worse than even Tama had endured. And then, as the queen stared up at her through clouded turquoise eyes, Kaidi had been prepared to do still more- to bring out her claws and mar that lovely face.

Only then did the broken lioness's labored words sink in, hitting her with claws much sharper than her own. You thought you were getting revenge on him- it was only Nala.

Nala, the princess. The last cub in the Pridelands. The child who'd gamboled and laughed with Tama through the glittering savannas of the past. Sarafina's daughter.

So many days spent in the fevered blur of her plotting, and yet Kaidi had never once seen the whole picture. She'd cared nothing for leaving behind her a kingdom without a ruler, but a cub without a mother...

Just like Scar, she was sending a cub to death- throwing Nala unprotected into a den of savage lionesses and their king, all of whom cared for nothing but themselves. They'd treat her kindly and speak of ancient legends and then, when she least expected it, turn on her for reasons even they couldn't explain. The ritual was done, but they'd find another way- a way to break her down and reshape her until she was like themselves. Tama's death, as brutal and shameful as it was, at least had the virtue of being quick. Queen Nala might one day rule, with everything that made yesterday's princess who she was long destroyed by her very subjects.

Kaidi stiffened at the sound of hyenas' laughter, much closer than any she'd heard all morning. So Lia was right: even with their being sent to find her as soon as the queen's death was discovered, they'd hesitated to search the one place they knew best. Soon they'd be at the canyon's walls, peering down into the vast expanse of bones as they searched greedily for a telltale patch of bright fur. They'd kill her in a matter of moments if they found her; she'd lost all will to fight back.

But she wasn't going to let them find her, crouching into the back of the skull like a coward. She'd throw her all into it again, even if this turned out to be her final act of rebellion, and break free of this cursed pride for good.

Whether she'd make it to relative safety or die in her disgrace, at least she would have done everything she could. She was a member of the Machwa Pride, the Law of her land emblazoned on her heart, and kings and traditions and so-called Great Spirits meant as little to her as the shattered bones under her paws.

Kaidi ran.

Not half a day after the announcement of Sarafina's death, life went on as it always had. The hunting party convened at the base of Pride Rock as they awaited the arrival of their leader, eager to bring back another day's meal. Other lionesses perched easily on nearby rocks, sunning and gossiping as they gazed at each other through half-lidded eyes. King Scar met with a group of hyenas, while Zazu soared impassively overhead. From her vantage point atop a far-off hill, it seemed as though Sarabi was the only pride member doing nothing at all. For once, she didn't care. The hunt could go on without her for one day.

She continued to stare out at them, feeling as though she were at a greater distance from their activities than the stretch of savanna that lay between. The deaths of her mate and son, followed immediately by the carnage of the ritual, had brought her more pain and sleepless nights than she had admitted even to herself. But now, with her cubhood friend dead as well, it was like she'd reached her limit-woken up in a strange new world where all she'd so happily taken for granted was gone, never to return. And even before she could fully explore it, she was expected to live like a native of this world, following its strange rules: to live like those she once loved never were.

Sarabi understood the lionesses' reactions to their queen's death, even felt a shameful twinge of sympathy. Almost all of them had been mothers. Everyone had lost someone by now. But she still refused to even give off the impression that she wanted any part of it.

At the sound of a twig snapping on the slope below, she turned to face this new arrival with all the decisive speed of the hunter. But then she saw who it was- the one member of the pride even closer to Sarafina than she, the one who'd been curiously absent all day. Her eyes softened with the compassion of a mother. "Nala..."

The cub stared up at her with widened, tear-filled eyes. "Sarabi...you told me I could come to you if I- if I ever needed to talk," she said. She climbed the remainder of the way up the hill, coming to a stop before the former queen. "I think I'm ready now."

Sarabi lay on her side so that she could look Nala in the eye. The cub now had her back to her, head bowed.

"I wasn't trying to ignore you," Nala said. "It's just- ever since Simba, an-and all the others...I've been pretending. I thought if I did everything right and acted like the future queen, like nothing bothered me at all, then one day it would come true. I did everything Mom said, and she'd always tell me how proud she was, and I thought it'd all work out somehow and I could forget. But then she died, too, and now..." Nala's shoulders shook. "...now I just can't pretend anymore-" She was crying now, still turned away.

For the first time since the night of the stampede, Sarabi's eyes filled with tears. "I know how you feel," she said. "And I'll tell you a secret: I've been pretending, too."

Nala turned to face her. "You mean...like me? But you can't be," she said, brushing at her eyes with a paw. "B-Because, for the last few months, I... I've been trying to act like you!" Through her tears, a small, crooked smile spread across her face. "Wow. You must think I'm an idiot, huh?"

"Not at all," Sarabi said. "You're just a cub, and you've already had to put up with more than most lions go through in a lifetime. I think you're brave."

"But I'm not!" Nala shook her head. "Simba was brave. The other cubs were brave. They've been in real danger- they knew they were going to die! I'm alive, and all I've done is feel sorry for myself."

"That is not true," Sarabi said. "Right now I bet you feel like you've gone through more than you can take, right?"

Nala sighed. "Yeah."

"But you keep fighting, don't you?"

"Well..."

Sarabi smiled. "And not just that- you've been wearing yourself out every day for the sake of the pride, and you're not even queen! You're so much like your mother-"

"What?!" Nala drew back from Sarabi, claws extended. "What do you mean?!" She was breathing heavily now, teeth clenched, tail twitching.

"What's wrong?" Sarabi asked. She considered moving closer to Nala but decided against it; it was probably best not to make any sudden movements. "Are you all right?"

Nala's breathing relaxed slightly, but she remained where she was, claws out to their full length. "Everybody here says it's a good thing she's dead. They say she was selfish, and-"

"I'm sorry," Sarabi said. "I didn't mean it like that at all. You know, Sarafina was my best friend, just like you and Simba." She smiled. "She was such a caring lioness- she would do anything for the ones she loved, and you always do the same. When I said you were like her, I wasn't thinking of the others' opinions- only the truth."

"Really?"

Sarabi nodded. "She loved you more than anything, Nala. I wish I could have told her what a great mother she was- she doubted herself so much. But we've all had our own troubles for so long now, and I barely took the time to speak to her." She sighed. "That was a mistake."

"No, I'm sorry," Nala said. "You know what? For a second there, I thought you were gonna attack me!"

"Why would you think that?"

"Because everyone else wants to," Nala said, casting a glance at Pride Rock over her shoulder. "You know Tama's mom? She was the one who-who k-" She sank down into the grass. "They all hated Mom. And they'd go after me, too, just because I'm her daughter!"

"I can't speak for Kaidi," Sarabi began, "but the other lionesses would never hurt you. They had cubs, too, cubs they're still mourning. They wouldn't want to see any others dead. They're just upset- that you lived while their own died. I don't agree, but I can understand. Every time I see you, I still expect to see my son right by your side. That's why they resented your mother."

Nala stood up. "But that's not what he said-"

Sarabi's eyes narrowed. "What who said?"

"Scar," Nala said. "Mom told me he saved my life. But when I asked him for help, h-he pushed me down..." She stepped closer to Sarabi, allowing her to see the claw marks that ringed her neck. "He told me they'd kill me. And he didn't actually say it, but I knew that was what he really wanted." She blinked back tears. "He was the one who really killed the other cubs, wasn't he? I heard the lionesses talking about that, too..."

It had been easy for Sarabi to almost accept the ritual on the day following the stampede- to view sudden, brutal death as the most natural occurrence of all. Only in the aftermath did she truly realize what her inaction had brought about. But somehow she'd never envisioned having to admit her role to the one participant to whom no excuses could be made.

"Yes, Nala," she said. "He was."

"But why?" Nala asked, as Sarabi knew she would.

"It's an old tradition, done whenever a new king takes the throne," Sarabi said. "None of us wanted it, but we all let it happen anyway. Some of us trusted too much in tradition, some of us feared the hyenas... I was too wrapped up in my own grief to resist. But your mother offered herself to Scar in order to spare your life. That was how she became queen. I wish I could explain it better, but why everyone lets this continue... I don't know. No one does. I'm sorry, Nala- for everything."

Nala continued to stare, wide-eyed. Sarabi half expected her to run away in horror- she wouldn't blame her.

"I...think I get it, sorta," Nala said, looking down at her paws. "I mean, I didn't really understand everything Mom told me that a queen has to do. I told myself I'd do it anyway, though, for everyone that was killed. But I guess I wouldn't have thought that if I knew how they really died..." She sighed. "I shouldn't think about that now. Scar told me I'm not the princess anymore. I never wanted to be one anyway."

Sarabi gently placed a paw on Nala's back. "Don't worry about anything Scar told you. He'll never do anything to hurt you- not while I'm here."

"But you're not the queen now, either," Nala said.

"I didn't become leader of the hunting party through title alone," Sarabi said, displaying her pointed teeth with a grin.

Nala gave her a small smile in return. "Thanks..."

"Scar may not want you as his heir," Sarabi began, "but if you're willing, I'll teach you everything I know. How to hunt, and how to defend yourself, and all about the Pridelands-"

"All right!"

"We can start whenever you're ready. I'd never let a friend down- you or Sarafina. You don't have to be a queen to make your mother proud."

"Uh-huh," Nala said. "But, um, do you think you could do something for me right now?"

"Of course," Sarabi said. "What is it?"

"Can I pretend you're my mom? Just for a little while..."

"Oh, Nala..."

Nala crawled into the space between Sarabi's forelegs. She rested her front paws on one of Sarabi's own, while her tail curled around the other. Sarabi lowered her head, rubbing her chin against the cub's back. It had been so long since she'd held a cub like this. Nala nuzzled against the lioness who wasn't quite her mother, while Sarabi tightly held the cub who wasn't quite her son.

So the fallen queen and princess spent the rest of the day in a world far apart from their broken pride, and could almost convince themselves that nothing had changed.