Chapter One

The Prince is Born

Simba paced back and forth outside the mouth of the den, his heart beating faster than usual. His best friends Timon the meerkat and Pumbaa the warthog were watching him, not saying anything. It was morning, but the sun still had not risen, leaving everything in a state of semi-darkness. All was silent except for the rustle of leaves in the wind and the occasional call of some bird in the darkness.

"Yeesh, Simba! Calm down!" Timon finally said, breaking the silence at last.

Simba paused and looked around. "I'm sorry, Timon," he said, clearly agitated, "but I'm about to be a father. I'm too nervous to calm down!"

He looked once again at the dark entrance to the den. His Nala was in there somewhere. Was she okay? And how was the cub?

As if reading his mind, Pumbaa spoke up. "You know Rafiki won't let you in," he said.

Simba groaned in frustration, mostly because he knew Pumbaa was right. The wise old baboon had told him the moment he arrived that Simba was to wait outside until the cub was born. He knew Rafiki would never change his mind.

"Nala?" he called. "Are you all right?"

"Yes, Simba, I'm fine!" Nala called back. She sounded as if she was trying to retain some semblance of patience.

Somewhere inside, Simba heard someone chuckle. Had to be Rafiki.

No less worried than before, Simba resumed his anxious pacing. Timon decided to let it go. Instead of berating him, he started humming to himself. Before long, Pumbaa joined him in the melody. It took Simba a little longer to recognize the tune. When he finally did, he paused, letting the familiar music fill him.

"Hakuna matata," he sang softly in harmony, "what a wonderful phrase."

Timon and Pumbaa began to sing as well, quietly so as not to disturb any of the sleeping animals below. "Hakuna matata, ain't no passin' craze. It means no worries for the rest of your days. It's our problem-free philosophy..."

"Hakuna matata," a deeper voice joined in. Simba wheeled around and saw Rafiki standing at the mouth of the den. He was leaning against his walking stick, his aged face split by a knowing smile.

Simba felt his heart miss a beat. He opened his mouth to ask about Nala and the cub, but the words got lost on their way up his throat. Rafiki answered the unspoken question with a chuckle. "The prince is born."

Without a word, Simba rushed into the den. Nala lay a few feet in front of him, smiling slightly at her mate's anxiety. Cradled in her front paws was a little golden-furred cub. His eyes were closed, his face half-hidden by his tiny paws. Simba felt his breath catch in his throat. "He…he's beautiful," he said to Nala, who smiled more widely and nodded.

"His name is Kopa," she replied. That was the name they'd chosen long ago if they were to have a boy.

Simba grinned, joy rapidly building inside him till he thought he'd explode. He rubbed his head affectionately against Nala's and nuzzled the cub. His eyes remained closed; they would not open for another week or so.

Simba heard someone enter and turned to see his mother Sarabi standing at the entrance. She was positively beaming with excitement. "Rafiki tells me I am a grandmother," she said, stepping closer to her son.

Simba nodded and stood aside, allowing her to look at Kopa. Sarabi gazed in adoration at the newborn cub before turning her gaze to Nala. "He is beautiful," she said.

Nala's smile widened. Sarabi looked around at Simba, who was grinning widely, his chest swollen with pride. "He looks just like you did when you were a cub."

Simba's eyes sparkled. Nala chuckled and added, "And he'll probably be just as mischievous."

Simba tried – and failed – to look offended. Nala and Sarabi laughed warmly. And little Kopa lay snoozing in his mother's paws, not hearing a word of what they said about him.

(Some time later)

Rafiki presented the cub at sunrise a week later, the day his eyes opened to the world around him. Lifted into the air by the elderly yet strong baboon, Kopa gazed wide-eyed at his father's kingdom. All the animals of the Pride Lands – giraffes, hippos, zebras, elephants, antelope, and countless others – had come to witness the dawning of a new generation. On either side of Rafiki, Simba and Nala stood tall and proud, the breeze ruffling Simba's mane. On his other side, Timon and Pumbaa watched the ceremony, there by the king's request, the first meerkat and warthog to ever stand atop Pride Rock.

Rafiki lowered Kopa and cradled him in his arms, turning his back to the rows of bowing animals on the plains below. "One day," he whispered softly to the cub, "you will be king of all of this."

Kopa blinked, not understanding the wise baboon's words. Simba smiled and nuzzled his cub lovingly.

The Circle of Life would continue.