A/N: This story takes place directly after Simba's Pride. All movie, book and comic characters belong to Disney and the rest to myself unless otherwise stated.
I do so hope you enjoy reading.
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He smiled. Bulky golden frame wavering as ruby eyes settled on his golden-orange princess – his daughter – newly wedded on the breaking dawn as the calls, the screaming roars, of the pressession sounded behind him. It was unusual for the red-maned king to stand here, to give his own heiress away to someone he had not long ago considered a rogue, to promise his kingdom away to a consort he had once hated. Yet, here he stood, smiling down at the young, happy couple. "Welcome home, my daughter," He spoke with a genuine warmth, stepping forward to rub his broad cheekbone against his daughter's own slender face. "My son," He spoke again, again pressing his golden fur against that of his in-law's own, dark, pelt. "Welcome to the family," The royal king lifted his head proudly, allowing his silken voice to carry over the wind. "All of you." He announced – a line he had spoken once before – loudly proclaiming the outlander's union to his own pride to his subjects below. Though the newly wed Heiress did not respond, her smile said worlds to him and any apprehension he once might have harbored was melted away with that smile – her happiness – and all at once the king saw that it would be fine. Everything would be fine.
His mate's light tawny head connected with his own, her forehead resting neatly under the king's rounded chin, it was enough to break his gaze away from his daughter, who now nuzzled her own husband lovingly, and for it to fall on his wife – his amazing, understanding wife – his Nala. Oh, what would he be without his Nala? A slobbering mess in the jungle, hiding away from the pride that almost wasn't as it decayed and fell apart? "Come, Simba." She spoke softly, her sweet scent filling his lungs as he watched the animals below begin to disband now that the ceremony had come to an end. "Let them enjoy the sunrise." His queen hummed gently in his ear, and Simba nodded, though he would have liked to stay, to share her happiness, to watch her glow under her husband's green gaze, he knew his queen was right, and Nala led the way down the rock's ledge, the king's ruby gaze looking back to the couple until they faded from sight.
"Simba." Nala scolded, a motherly, warning tone – one that could make you feel bad even if one had done nothing wrong, tone. "They'll be fine." She spoke pointedly, and immediately the King realized that she had saw his lingering gaze, the way his paws had dragged when he could no longer see Kovu with his daughter. "I…" He mumbled, his head drooping at the prospect of being scolded by his mate. "I know that Nala." He said simply, refusing to meet her teal-green eyes. "But that's my baby girl. I'd stay up every night and watch her sleep if I could, Oh, Nala… She's grown up, she has, but I couldn't ever stop worrying about her, thinking about her, even if I tried." Simba heaved a sigh, his weight suddenly becoming too heavy for his bones to carry and he plopped down, carelessly, as he reached the great rock's bottom. "Oh, you stupid lion." Came his mate's roaring laughter, her person coming to nestle in the crook of Simba's own with a great 'oof'. "Is that all that's in that head of yours?" She chuckled, a devilish smile coming across her soft, black lips. "She'll always be our child – your princess – no matter how old she becomes or how much she pretends she doesn't, she'll always need her father." The tawny queen softened as she finished, giving the king a teasing jab of her paw as she sighed, burying her head deep into Simba's russet mane. And to that Simba did not respond, his own expression content as he chuckled along with the lioness, coming to rest his great head onto Nala's supple back. "I love you, Nala." He said simply, bright ruby eyes filtering close as he was lulled by the sound of the queen's own heart. "And I love you too, fuzzball." She rumbled, her soft voice echoing in his ear. A smile graced his lips, and under the shaded priderock, nuzzling close to a soft, warm body, it was easy for the king's brain to cloud in drowsiness and he allowed it. Today was the first day in a long while King Simba did not have to worry of "queen", if one could even call her that, Zira's bidding, without worrying about the threat of war and of bloodshed and of his pride-mates' death. The union – a peace treaty not set in place due to his own diplomatic savvy, mind you, but by that of his daughter's and her new husband's – had sent away his fears, for now at least, and for the first time in a long while he had not been met by hostile feline on his doorstep. And so sleep came, and Simba let it.
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A sudden pressure on the king's nose disturbed his slumber, and a large forepaw rose to swat it away, body rolling abruptly away from whatever had roused his brain into consciousness. "Si…?" A distant, familiar voice spoke, though the king could not understand what the voice said and simply groaned his response, burying his face deeper into his own paws. "Sire?" Came the voice again, this time accompanied by another rough jab to Simba's person and the lion was dragged further away from returning to his slumber. "Your majesty?" Fussed the intruder, sounding quite annoyed as again a tap came to Simba's forearm. The brightly colored lion groaned, ruby eyes blinking open with groggy frustration. "What?" He rumbled in a low growl, sounding much more irritable then he would have liked. "What do you want?" He slurred, tongue just as asleep as his clouded brain as finally the intruder came into clear view and all at once he realized why they were here. "Err…" Sputtered the blue hornbill, feathers ruffled in his discomfort – it would, after all, be easy enough for a bird such as he to be smashed under the groggy lion's paw. "The morning report, sire." Zazu calmly spoke, the majordomo settling as Simba became more aware of his surroundings, and Simba, knowing the bird's words before they were even spoken, simply nodded, stretching out with a great yawn. "Ah, yes." He cleared his throat, forcing a slight smile onto his lips – a necessary chore, that bird, and it was no secret that the king took little enjoyment in the majordomo's reports, especially of late, as they always carried sour news. "Why don't we speak on my morning patrol, hmm? Run ahead and I'll join you in a moment, Zazu." He stated, flicking away the steward with a nod of his head. "A-Ah… Of course, your majesty." Zazu took a deep bow at the paws of the lion before fluttering just a few yards away, out of earshot but certainly not out of sight. With a sigh, Simba turned to look at the form of his still slumbering mate, and, unable to find a reason to disturb her, licked the nape of her neck softly before rising to join his majordomo. It seemed Zazu came too soon every day – even though today he had been delayed by several hours, given the princess's marriage held mere hours before – even his father had decreed the morning reports would be issued only after dawn, as opposed to the pre-dawn in which his grandfathers must have heard them. It'd suit Simba just fine if he only ever received the afternoon report. Ha. As if it would be practical. "Tell me, how are things fairing in the kingdom, Zazu?" He mused aloud as he neared the hornbill, and the blue majordomo flittered easily up onto the king's shoulder to gain a better vantage to the lion's ear as they traveled.
"All is well," Zazu began, now resting comfortable atop of Simba. "Several of the herds have expressed their happiness that the kingdom's military affairs have settled, apparently bickering lions is an un-fond dinnertime show." Simba rolled his eyes, though unseen by his passenger. 'Fickle beasts.' He thought, snorting under his breath – you'd think with the way things went downhill last time the pride had been taken over the kingdom's subjects wouldn't take such matters so lightly. It had taken four years for the pridelands to recover as much as it had now – four long, grueling years, he was what, eleven or twelve now? Old age was already fast settling in to Simba. "Everyone is very excited about Princess Kiara's marriage; it's all that's been spoken about all morning it seems. Animals had started to whisper about your abdication without the heiress having wed, and they are most delighted for continuation of the royal bloodline, any fears of the monarchy's future have ceased." Zazu paused to catch his breath, and Simba sighed, eyes scanning the horizon carefully for any uninvited 'guests' testing his territory's borders. "I'm glad." He mumbled, taking the time out to pause and mark a growing acacia tree with his scent. "On that note, sire…" Zazu paused, swallowing as he took in a deep breath. "The herds are very unhappy about the addition of Zira's lionesses to your own pride. 'Too many lions', in summary, is what many of them agree – and forgive me if this is too forward sire, but I too must agree, the pride has swelled larger than it's ever been with the addition of these lions. One of the zebra herds has already fled the area-" The bird stopped, quickly become exasperated as he attempted to relay the situation. "Sire, with so many mouths, don't you think you'll just drive the herds away?" Zazu glided off of the king, coming to rest on a small patch of brush to look at the king face-to-face, a concerned look in his eye as he tried to contain his nervous fidgeting, but failed. Simba heaved a sigh, his mane suddenly feeling very heavy atop of his head, and he sat on the lush green grass before he found himself slouching. "Yes, I know." Was the king's hushed response. In truth, he did know – he knew before he ever agreed to allow the outsiders join his kingdom that his subjects would be none too pleased on the addition of the extra eight carnivores and he knew all too well how hungry appetites could quickly wear down the food-source; and he also knew that the food-source had legs and perfectly knew how to use them – herds would not remain if the pride's appetite became too swollen, to this Simba was clear of.
But he had already thought of a solution to that, too. "You needn't worry, Zazu." He smiled wide, a charming smile the majordomo knew all too well, as his warm voice reached the bird's ears. "The Pride Lands are vast and lush, with rationed hunting from the pride the herds will not be affected in the way they fear and with a home such as this, why should they leave?" He challenged the bird, a glint in his eye and, knowing his friend well, knew the bird would not accept his offer of banter. Indeed Simba had, upon the joining of the outlanders, changed his lax hunting policy to allow the lioness (and lions) to take only the minimal amount of meat necessary for the pride's survival and had made it clear the policy would be strictly enforced. The King saw no reason why the herds would not visit as they have always done if the lions did not take significantly more animals then previous years, and so with this new policy, Simba did not worry. "Quite right, sire." Came the bird's chirp and in a single sentence, as Simba had expected, Zazu relented his opinion, or in the least, kept it to himself. "Now," Simba began, standing to resume his patrol. "Is there anything else to report, or was that it, Zazu?" He questioned, and Zazu quickly flew to rest again on the king's shoulder. "Just the usual sire," The hornbill explained. "The hippos are complaining again of the buffalo drinking water on their calving lands," The bird scoffed, and Simba couldn't help but to agree, adding his own scorn alongside his companion's. "When isn't that pod complaining?" He questioned sarcastically. "Thank you, Zazu, I'll speak to them later." He sighed, nodding his head for the majordomo to continue with what he had been saying. Hippos were a grumpy sort, always nitpicking about one thing or the other, and buffalo more hard-headed than a bull – it would escalate into a fight, Simba knew, if the King did not respond to the pod's words, but it would be a fight either way, Simba figured, to even try and convince the two pig-headed herbivores to come to an agreement. Indeed, he would have to deal with the complaint today, less the short-tempered hippopotamuses take it into their own hands. "The herds are ready to welcome the start of the rainy season, and many animal have announced their pregnancies," Zazu started again, clearly pleased with the news himself. "Rafiki has announced his nephew, Nefu, will be training under him to become a shaman," The bird chirped happily, and Simba nodded. He knew Nefu had previously worked with his uncle, having taking an interest in the elder mandrill's practice, and was pleased to hear he had decided to become Rafiki's apprentice – Nefu would surely make a good shaman under the wisdom of his uncle. "And I myself sire, will be bringing my chicks to priderock this week, as per requested." The bird reminded, and Simba blinked, alarmed, how did time fly this fast? It seemed like only yesterday his daughter had been born, only a few heartbeats ago when Zazu had stated his intentions to retire as his wings stiffened and age took hold. Was it this week already, when Zazu would bring his adult children for the King to choose his replacement? "I'm looking forward to seeing your chicks, Zazu, I'm sure they'd all make fine majordomos." He complimented, and he felt the hornbill fidget behind him. "Thank you, sire." Zazu responded, and suddenly Simba was feeling quiet sad, having known his feathered friend his entire life. How many kings had the majordomo served in his life, how old was the elderly bird? Time was too fast, Simba decided, no longer feeling like the young king he had once been, feeling his age as it dragged on his paws. The King knew he would not reign much longer, yet the prospect of his daughter taking his place did not comfort him. What if he died tomorrow? Would the two year old lioness really be ready to take his place, youthful and inexperienced? Kiara was barely an adult in her own right – how could she manage a kingdom when she was just starting her life? Was this his fault, wanting to wait until the pridelands had healed before he perused a family with Nala?
"The kingdom is quiet today," Zazu commented, interrupting the king from his thoughts. "The report brings no other news, your majesty." He said simply. "Thank you Zazu, you may go." The King responded, head turning to look back at his majordomo, well, look back as far as he possibly could, anyway. Zazu gave a soft smile, briskly nodding his acknowledgment as he took to the sky, quickly disappearing beyond Simba's line of sight.
He sighed, sitting gently down on his haunches. Couldn't time slow down, just this once? Everything had already changed, or was changing – his best friends grew old and weary and took to retiring in their jungle home – their own little piece of paradise – to live out their final days among the meerkat clan. Animals he'd known his entire life, Rafiki, Zazu, lions even, took to retirement and he too was fast approaching his own pending mortality. Most of the faces recognizable to Simba from cubhood had come and gone, including Nala's mother, Sarafina and his own, Sarabi – gone to join the great kings on their slumber in the sky. "Won't be long until we meet again," Simba rumbled aloud, his thoughts taking shape in his voice, and, Simba thought of them as true. He knew he was old, knew it was likely he'd only live another three to four years at best, and if that, it wouldn't be likely he'd still be on the throne. The King feared – not for his death, for he knew he would see again that of lost faces sorely missed, but rather, for the future. He feared the daughter that did not want to be queen, that had rejected her title of princess well into her adolescents – feared the daughter that had only seemed to grow into her shoes after meeting a boy, of all things, feared of youth, of impulsiveness, of not a change of person but of words spoken from the whim of the heart. Would it, actually, be okay if he died in a moment's passing?
The morning's security he had felt was quickly dragged from under his paws and Simba thought again of his uncertainties – it was true, he knew, that Kovu loved his daughter and that Kiara loved him, but for god's sake, the boy's mane wasn't even fully grown! Young love was dangerous, but so was young monarchy – especially one in which the prince consort had no understanding of running, and who's future queen had all but payed attention in her studies. "No, that wouldn't be good." Simba agreed, nodding to himself, and with a shake of his head the King had made up his mind – he'd have to teach them, both, of the crown and fast. Until then, he supposed, he'd just have to, well, not die. To this, Simba chuckled, for it was such a silly notion – how could a king, much less a lion, just not die? 'Hhmph.' Simba scoffed. 'Let's hope one of them is a fast learner. Maybe Kiara will actually pay attention now, with that boy around.' He sighed, head beginning to pound from all the worrying it had cooked up. 'I'll retire this year regardless, most likely, in any case. An old lion like me couldn't keep beating all these young fellows anymore.' He decided, slowly rising from his perch among the soft, green grass, which was only beginning to grow as the rainy season arrived. As he walked, albeit reluctantly, to the slow-moving section of the zuberi river, which gave the pridelands its life, to deal with his subject's conflicts. It would be he, as King, which would be charged with the painstaking task of coming to an agreement with the short-tempered hippo and the pig-headed buffalo, and the King wore a scowl on his face at the prospect of the task. It was still early morning and Simba wanted nothing else but to return and celebrate with his family, wanted to be with his daughter and have her joyous smile melt away his festering worries of the future, wanted to laze about until Zazu came to drag him away for yet another report of the kingdom's well-being. Yet Simba walked on to deal with this morning's complaint, displeased, as it would surely be hours before an agreement between the two volatile races could be reached.
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A/N:
Aaand there's the first chapter! I wanted to put a little note down here to discuss the future of this story and to explain some things. Firstly, "Legacy" is written primarily from Simba's POV (with maybe in the future POVs from Kiara/Kovu and possibly Nala) and secondly most chapters won't end like this / won't be written like this – this chapter is literally just setting the scene for the story so expect more exciting things other than a paranoia-induced walk around the pridelands.
Secondly, a lot has changed! Timon and Pumba have moved back to the jungle with Timon's natal meerkat group (I realize now they were actually at the ending roar sequence in TLK 2 but I'm lazy and not rewriting it), Rafiki is god knows how old as will be retiring during the course of this story with the (semi-canon) Nefu taking his place, Zazu is at least as old as Simba if not older and his species only live 'round fifteen years, so he will also be retiring/dieing during the course of the series, Sarabi and Sarafina are dead as there's no formal mention of them in TLK 2 and they'd be god awful old by now anyway, and yeah there's just going to be in general a ton of canons that are eventually going to end up dieing in "Legacy". Also, during the course of this story, something very bad is going to happen to a canon(s) that I am prepared to be yelled at for – bring on the reviews in all caps!
And lastly, "Legacy" is going to be very irregularly updated throughout the upcoming holidays due to travels, however I'm really looking forward to the plot in this story and plan to finish it! :) Hope to see a few readers who enjoy it now and then.