The sun seemed to hang motionless in the sky, enormous and ominous, hovering fatly above a bed of violent pink clouds. Lionesses lay with their tongues out, longing for the crimson orb to set and bring the cool of night. Every breath they took felt hot and dry in the mouth. The air spoke of storm, but the thunderheads would not come and the weather refused to break.
Relief would come with the dawn; a precious hour or so of gentle breeze, when a thirsty tongue might find a little moisture on a dew-wet stone. In that hour, when the Great Kings retreated before the new beginning and the sun turned the peak of Pride Rock lion-gold, while the new moon still grazed the distant mountains, the heir to the throne would be presented to his future subjects.
This would be a hollow ceremony, a mocking travesty of Simba's solemn presentation. The lush, fertile plains were dry and cracked, and no longer teemed with every kind of life. Where herds and flocks without number had stood watching the presentation of Mufasa's child - stately giraffe, curious meerkat, lumbering hippo and fierce rhinoceros, tiny Thompson's gazelle and huge elephant - there were only the gangs of hyaenas lolling yellow-eyed and surly in the heat.
"I hope Rafiki drops the little rat and he falls all the way to the bottom. Bounce, bounce, bounce."
Sarafina, mother of Nala, was the speaker. Since her daughter fled the pride she had become deeply bitter. She had no idea whether Nala was alive or dead, and to those who did not know her well she seemed not to care. Sarabi, her closest friend, knew better, but she still reproached the other lioness.
"No cub deserves to die," she said, and though years had passed since Simba was taken from her, grief was fresh in her face. Sarafina hung her head.
"Kovu is a dear, sweet little thing," Sarabi continued, managing to smile.
"But he is Scar's son."
"Mufasa was Scar's brother, and have you ever
known two lions more different? Kovu doesn't have to be a second Scar. I will
help him all I can to grow up wise and kind - as if he were my own boy."
There was a hungry look in the queen's eyes, and Sarafina saw that she longed for Kovu. Maybe Sarabi was right; maybe the boy could be brought up a proper king. Sarafina had watched her with Nuka, and if anyone could change a cub's nature it was this caring old widow. But by the time Kovu was grown and Scar gone it could be too late for the pride. Sarafina's tongue peeked from between her teeth.
"I'm thirsty," she complained.
"Then go get a drink."
"Too hot."
Sarabi gently cuffed her friend with a forepaw. "You're never satisfied, are you? Be quiet and watch the sunset."
As Sarabi turned her head upwards to the reddened sky, Sarafina marvelled at her. How was it that she never seemed to lose hope?
Scar was seething with anger. Rafiki was missing! He had not been seen since the day the king informed him that Kovu was to be presented as the new prince. That meddling, wily ape! Scar had always detested him; the old baboon seemed always to be laughing at some secret joke, and it drove the black-maned lion half wild.
"The moment the ceremony is over I'll break his scrawny neck," he threatened.
"What if he doesn't come back?" Zira asked wearily. She was tired of the subject and wanted all this over with.
"Then I shall present Kovu myself!" roared Scar. His eyes glowed in the parting rays of the sun.
The three cubs had caught their elders' restless mood. Nuka prowled and paced until his mother took him by the scruff of his neck and ejected him from the den. Vitani jumped in circles, attacking her own tail. Kovu was fretful and wouldn't sleep.
"I don't want him to be tired for his presentation," Zira complained, pinning him between her thigh and body.
"I thought the presentation was just a silly piece of nonsense?" Scar teased.
"Our son still has to look his best."
Scar was thrilled. They were joking and playing together, like a proper couple. And Zira had said 'our son'! He leaned against her, thrumming with contentment. As for Zira, her heart thumped fast as she tested Scar by referring to Kovu as theirs jointly. She was offering her son as a gift, and offering herself with him. Scar's acceptance forced a high, almost hysterical purr from her. As they lay in the stifling evening with the cranky cubs mewing and fidgeting, their love for each other hurt with a delicious pain.
Nuka had no-one to play with; the rest of the pride lay panting in the shade, and he couldn't find Ed. He pretended to himself that he was a scout, out looking for the King's enemies. Nuka the spy! He liked that idea. When his ears caught a slight noise, he raised one forepaw in an exaggerated gesture of keen alertness, then flattened himself against a boulder and peered around it from narrowed eyes.
What he saw made his mouth hang foolishly open in the way his mother always said made him look more half-witted than he did already. A large lion, bigger by far than Scar and well-covered with muscle, was walking cautiously along the path to Pride Rock, his paws easily following the trail as if he knew it well. In the low light his mane was red as blood, and his hide was golden. He was followed by a slender lioness with fur so pale it looked silver. Her eyes glittered green as Scar's.
Nuka knew for certain sure that these were not guests arriving for the presentation. Choking back a little whimper of fear, he bolted for the safety of his mother.
"Nuka, quiet!" Zira was tetchy with heat and tension, and besides had just succeeded in getting Kovu off to sleep.
"But there's a lion...a stranger in the Pridelands! And he's a big one!"
"I'm sure it's nothing to worry about. One of Scar's friends come for the ceremony." She looked lovingly at her little dark cub on the last word.
"Scar hasn't got any friends, except you!" Nuka said rudely. He was upset and frustrated. He wasn't really worried about Scar's ability to see off a strange lion, but he wanted to tell his news and make the King see what a good scout he was. "Where is he?"
"Don't you dare disturb him. He's gone to make Sarabi and the others hunt harder. Oh, they're so stupid and lazy!"
Zira chewed her claws. Although her status as a nursing mother granted her a larger portion of meat than was her normal due, the demands of two growing cubs and the scarcity of game meant that she still felt the pinch of famine hardest of the lionesses. She was sure that if she could only leave her cubs, she would be able to find and bring down a kill - food she could convert to milk for her children.
Nuka's stomach answered with a growl; he was hungry too. "Gee, I hope they catch a..." he was beginning, when a commotion began that was so terrible he lost all thoughts of everything except his mother, and he flung himself upon her and buried his head in her flank.
Zira, listening hard, was frantic with worry for Scar. She wanted to go out and fight for him, to tear his enemies into shreds with her claws and teeth. But motherhood had grown to be stronger fhan ferocity in Zira, and when two loyalties tugged she could not leave her babies. Her three babies. As the terrible night wore on she clutched Vitani and Kovu tight as Nuka snuggled under her chin, his ears pressed flat so he could not hear the roars and shrieks outside.
Zira heard. She heard the voice of the lion she loved above all others, and a stranger's roar rising up to challenge it. She heard battle begin. The terrible roars mingled, but she could tell which was Scar's always. As the sound ebbed and flowed she followed the fight in her mind, wondering who had the upper hand, whether Scar was hurt. Was he bleeding? Dying? At last, she heard one awful wail that made her lips pull away from her teeth in a grimace and her chest heave painfully. There were more noises after that; confusion, scurrying and excited conversation. But she did not hear Scar's voice again, and she knew she never would.
They came for her in the morning, when the storm had conquered the fire and the sun had conquered the storm. A stranger's voice called her name and she emerged bristling, ready to fight to the last drop of blood for her children. Nuka stayed hidden in the den, the twins twining around his legs with high anxious chirrups.
He was so young! His mane was barely grown, yet he had killed the wise, experienced Scar. He must have had help, Zira thought, he must have tricked the king somehow. Sarabi stood at his shoulder, and as Zira looked from one to the other she noticed how much the strong young lion resembled the old queen. Simba? So Scar had not killed a cub, after all!
She tried to snarl, but the noise turned into a sob and she choked it back. Seeing this proud animal, she knew that Scar was truly gone. There were fresh wounds on the stranger's flanks and shoulders; Scar had made them. She wanted to kiss the marks that had been made by her lover's last actions.
"Zira." The lion spoke calmly. "You don't know me, but I lived here long ago. Your mate took the throne that belonged to me, and I have returned to claim it." His brown eyes held hers. "Scar is dead."
Zira had known all night, known since that last great roar. She had lain and held that knowledge to her for long hours as the stars turned overhead. Yet the word itself, spoken aloud at last, still had the power to shock and hurt.
All her life Zira had received pain, and she knew only one way of dealing with it: to give pain in return. To give blow for blow - and word for word. Her lips drew back from her teeth and she snarled her reply:
"Murderer!"
Simba could still have won her over, if he had been kind and gentle - as he had intended to be when he entered - while Zira was still reeling from the shock, before her grief gave way to the anger that would turn over the years to madness. But it was not so long since Scar had unjustly called him murderer, and to hear the accusation again from Scar's mate was more than he could bear.
At that moment, Kovu peeked out from the den and tottered forwards to see what was going on. The King looked down at this small bundle of life - he saw the cocoa-coloured coat, the green eyes, the tuft of dark fur, and drew the obvious and wrong conclusion.
The cubs of a defeated king should, by rights, be killed by the conqueror. It was Pride law as old as that which had betrothed Simba and Nala when they were still babies.
Simba knew at once that he could not do it. He could not be angry with this helpless object, but his anger at the cub's mother was doubled.
He roared as he had roared the previous night, a powerful rumble that the lionesses could feel deep in their chests and coming up through the pads of their feet.
"I am no murderer," Simba said between clenched teeth. "But if you are not outside Pride boundaries when the sun reaches the top of his climb, that may just change!" He pushed his muzzle into Zira's face, his throat trembling in a growl. "Take the cub and get out!"
Zira lifted Kovu in her mouth - not by his scruff, but by closing her teeth around his small body so he dangled from her jaws like a dead rabbit. Nuka emerged behind her, shaking as he stared at Scar's killer with frightened, bulging eyes, and Vitani followed Nuka, seemingly unafraid of the big golden lion.
The teenager looked balefully at his small half-brother. He had very little idea what was going on, and he could not quite believe, yet, that Scar was gone forever. But he observed how much angrier the stranger had become when he saw Kovu. It was clearly the Termite's fault that they were being told to leave. His lip curled into a snarl - then trembled as he tried not to cry.
"Nuka?" Sarabi spoke gently. "You don't have to go. You haven't done anything wrong."
Zira snarled and bristled. Her paw, claws out, grabbed Nuka's neck and drew him greedily to her. "How dare you?" she breathed.
"The child is old enough to make up his own mind." Sarabi's eyes caressed the gangly teenager, pleading with him. Although her own son had returned, he was suddenly an adult and a stranger to her. She had lavished her love on Nuka in her most desolate hours, and he was precious to her.
Nuka hesitated. He remembered Sarabi washing him the day he arrived at Pride Rock; Sarabi telling him stories and legends; Sarabi making him feel needed. But as he looked from Sarabi to Zira, he realised something that made him momentarily old and wise: Zira needed him more. Curse and strike him though she might, she would be a broken creature if he chose the enemy's mother over his own.
"I'm sorry, Sarabi. But I gotta look after Mom," he said softly.
Sarabi walked to him, avoiding Zira's gaze, and licked his face once from chin to forehead. Nuka sniffled a little. Then he hauled Vitani up in his mouth, throwing his head back to keep from scraping his burden on the ground.
"You have not heard the end of this, Simba," Zira hissed. "The time will come when this justice of yours will be your doom."
With a foreclaw, she drew a deep line in the earth between her little family and their former pride. Then, with a grim, sad dignity, the procession of two walked away from Pride Rock - strangers once more in the lands than had so briefly been their home.
[A/N: Wow, it's over a year since I uploaded the first chapter of this story. Thanks for your patience, and I hope it was worth the wait!]