A/N: Hello! So, I've decided to start this story, as I watched The Lion King the other day, for the first time since I was little, and fell in love all over again. It will be centred around Simba and Nala, the first part of this chapter being in Nala's POV. But for my idea to work, in this fanfiction, Scar has died in the stampede, along with Mufasa, therefore never being there to tell Simba to run away. But don't worry, he will meet Timon and Pumbaa in the end, whether it being by running away after all, or through some other way, You'll just have to wait and see.

Disclaimer: Do I own the Lion King? Alas, I do not, no matter what I wish. Am I making any sort of profit whatsoever from writing this fanfiction? Again, no. I am merely writing it because the idea popped into my head whilst I was on the toilet, and for the enjoyment of myself, and hopefully, others. All copyright goes to The Walt Disney company, Irene Mecchi, Jonathan Roberts and Linda Woolverton. *sigh*

Chapter 1 - "The Art of a Lion"

"Do we have to go?" Nala whispered to her mother.

Sarafina sighed. "Yes. We mustn't stay here any longer."

"But why not?" asked Nala desperately. "I don't want to leave; I have friends here; this is my home!"

"You know why Nala. The hyena's are taking over. There is no King."

Nala squared her shoulders defiantly. "We can take 'em! Hyena's. Hah! They have to be the stupidest animals in the universe. And Simba is prince! He'll be King!"

Sarafina shook her head sadly. "It's not all that easy, Nala. Most of us can take them easily, yes, but a big group of them, no. And unfortunately, Simba is much to young to be King yet. It's a big responsibility. And Scar is—Scar is gone. There is no one left but Simba to take the throne. And he is much too young. I am not prepared to wait."

Nala's shoulders slumped. "I—I guess so."

Sarafina nodded. "We leave tomorrow. At dawn."

(Sweetness and Spices)

Nala opened her eyes blearily, peering at her mother. She slowly wriggled from her grip, carefully. There was a particularly tense moment when her mother rolled over, and almost knocked the wind out of her, but otherwise, everything went smoothly.

She set off up the cliffs, running as fast as she could to her destination. Simba's cave. She crept inside, careful not to wake Simba's mother, Sarabi.
She prodded him with a paw.

"Simba," she whispered. "Simba!"

He turned, emitting a particularly loud groan. Startled, Nala looked towards Sarabi, but she slept soundly.

"Mmm?" Simba groggily opened his eyes. "Nala? What are you doing?"

"Just get up," she said sharply. "Come on!"

Seeing the serious look in his friend's usually, mischievous face, he got up carefully evading Sarabi's paws, stretched, and followed Nala outside.
She continued to lead him up the grassy plains, beginning to run. After the two cubs had been running for around five minutes, she slowed to a stop.
Simba opened his mouth to ask Nala why she had woken him up at a time no lion should be woken, why she had brought him here, and why she looked so sad. He wanted to know, and he wanted to know now.
But she held up a paw to stop him. He huffed, clearly annoyed.

"Nala, what are we doing?"

Nala opened her mouth. She closed it again. She looked at Simba, and sighed. Simba frowned, wondering what made his usually outgoing friend so uneasy.

"I—I'm going away!" she blurted out suddenly.

Simba gaped at her. "What?"

"I—I'm not going to live in Pride Rock anymore," Nala whispered.

"But why?"

"Because...the hyena's are taking over. And—and there's no King. You're too young to be King yet. Mom says we can't wait."

Simba puffed out his chest defiantly. "Hyena's? We can take 'em! And who care's if there's no King? When I'm be old enough, I'll be King!"

Nala sighed. "I know. We can fight the hyena's on their own. Just—just not in a large group. And if the hyena's are taking over...that means—it means no food."

Simba simply gaped at the ground for a moment, breathing shallowly. Then his face lit up.

"Nala! I have an idea!"

"What?" she asked eagerly. Did Simba know a way to get them out of this mess? Did his father tell him something important before he died? Surely it had to be something good, as Simba just looked so happy. He was practically radiating waves of happiness from his fur.

"We could run away!"

Nala's face fell. They couldn't do that. Of course they couldn't. Her mother, Sarafina, would be heartbroken, as would Simba's, maybe even more so, as she had lost her husband barely two weeks before. And what about food? Her mother hadn't finished giving her hunting lessons yet. They'd never survive. Yet, she didn't know how to say this to Simba. She hadn't seen him look so happy, or pleased with himself since his father had died. He had been walking around like a zombie the past two weeks, severely depressed.

"I—we can't do that Simba," she said softly.

His face fell instantly. He looked sorrowful, even disappointed.

"Why not?" he asked.

"Because—well...what about our mothers'? And—and food! We'd starve Simba! And anyways," she continued quietly,"your dad wouldn't have wanted it."

Her friend's face hardened instantly, as it always did when someone mentioned his father. Nala somehow thought that he had gotten the idea into his head that it was his fault. He hadn't really talked about it to anyone, except maybe his mother, and even Nala doubted that he went into any sort of detail. He didn't say anything for a moment. Nala, finding the silence unbearable, broke it.

"Simba?" she said cautiously. "Are you—are you okay?"

He blinked, looking up. "How would you know?" he said in a loud voice, startling Nala. "How would you know what he would have wanted?" His voice shook slightly. "I'm his son, aren't I? I should know, shouldn't I? Not you. Not...not you."

Nala swallowed. "I know that Simba. I—I understand..."

"No, you don't. You really don't. Because—because I've done something terrible Nala. It's all my fault."

She frowned. "What do you mean?"

He looked at her with eyes filled with sorrow.

"It's my fault he's dead."

She simply gaped at him for a moment. "How could you say that? Of course it's not! You couldn't have done nothing to stop it! Could—could you?"

He looked at the grass for a moment. "He died saving me. It was a stampede. I thought—I thought that he had a surprise for me. That's what uncle Scar said. He told me to wait on this rock. And then there was a stampede, and he came to save me. He did, but fell down over the cliff into the stampede," said Simba, in a bit of a rush. "If it wasn't for me...if it wasn't for me—"

But Nala cut him off. "It wasn't your fault," she said sharply. "You know it wasn't. You had no way of knowing..."

Simba pressed his lips into a thin line. "Yeah, well...it's still my fault. And I just thought...now that you're going away...well, we could just go. Because you don't want to go." He looked up. "Do you?"

Nala shook her head fiercely. "No way. I bet I'll hate it. To wherever I'm going. I wish I could stay."

Simba looked away. "Yeah."

Nala looked out onto the horizon. "I better go. Mom will be waking up soon. We're leaving at dawn."

Simba looked back at her. "Promise you'll always remember me?"

She grinned. "Always. And don't you go forgetting me either!"

Simba grinned back. "You know I won't. You're my best friend."

He inched his paw closer to her, and she put hers on top of his. "Friends forever?" she breathed.

"Forever."

"I'll come back, y'know. Someday."

"I know."

They both looked down at the ground, until Nala dived into the air, and flipped Simba onto his back.

"Pinned ya."

A/N: It was a little bit short, but never mind that, for now at least. Did you like it? I know I'll probably get no reviews, but if you want to give a little feedback, I definitely wouldn't protest...
Next chapter as soon as possible, hopefully.