A/N: Italics represent Simba's unspoken thoughts.

Time had stopped. Nothing was moving, at least to him, nothing was.

Or maybe, time hadn't stopped, it probably just didn't matter anymore. All that mattered right now was the song... the song still echoing in the young lion's ears. The words, the tune, everything still swirling in his mind.

His father wasn't looking at him- still looking into the sun as if it was giving him a show. He did not know, could not know that Mufasa was experiencing memories of a certain small cub sleeping peacefully by his side.

Simba opened his mouth, but what could he say? Anything would be seen as feeble after what had just happened.

Stop being so awkward and talk. Talk!

"Thanks."

Great response, Simba. Just fantastic.

But then Mufasa turned and faced him. A mere look from his father reassured him- how he'd longed for that through the years without him.

"Simba, I've missed so much of your life," he said slowly. "All because..."

Don't you be guilty about it, of all lions. Don't you dare, Dad.

"That wasn't your fault, Dad," he persisted.

Mufasa sighed, almost painfully. "I keep on thinking," he replied, strained, "What if I'd managed to get you out quicker, maybe-"

"Don't say what if," Simba said, cutting him off. "You're always going to think it's your fault when really-" He stopped, slightly amazed at what he was about to say. "You can't blame anyone..." he finished, inwardly exhilarated at his self- realization.

It's not my fault... it's not my fault!

Simba's father stared at him, interested. "What was all that about?" he asked, half laughing.

"Nothing," the young lion said, finally at ease completely, for the first time since his cub hood. "I found out something that took me up until now to realize."

Mufasa did not reply but Simba thought he understood, in one way or another. There was a slight break in conversation when he queried, "Did you make it all up?"

"Mmm?"

"The song and the words and..."

His father seemed to be in deep thought. "Well...," he began hesitantly. "My father told me about the Great Kings of The Past. I loved the idea and even when I grew up, I still hung onto it. My brother-"

The murderer.

"Yeah, what about him?" he said edgily.

Mufasa raised his eyebrows in warning but continued: "He used to tease me about it. I didn't mind when I was a cub but as we both became older, his taunts became- let's just say they... hurt a lot.

"We had massive rows about it and they always ended with me stalking off. And when I was alone, I made up the song, bit by bit. It gave me something to believe in."

The old King moved closer. "But when you were born, I didn't need to believe in the song. I believed in you."

I'm not much to believe in.

"And is it true? The stars and everything I mean," Simba said, on tenterhooks.

Mufasa smiled knowingly. "I don't think I'm meant to tell you," he replied softly. "Sorry, but- ah!"

The young lion started. "What's wrong?"

His father exhaled, looking down almost as if he was a cub caught in wrong doing. "I'm fi-" But then he half roared in pain and Simba saw him being pulled back by an invisible force.

What in the name of the Pridelands is happening?!

Mufasa glanced up, mumbling, "One minute, just one more minute." He lowered his head once more and said, "I have to go; it's time for me to go."

No! No, you can't!

"Dad, don't leave. I- I can't bear-" His chest tightened in panic, breathing constricted.

"Simba," Mufasa said, "Calm down."

Calm down?!

"You know I'm dead, son," the old King told him reluctantly. "I can't stay here."

Don't say that!

Of course Simba knew that his father had departed; he'd had to live with that knowledge for most of his time on earth. But when Mufasa actually said the words, there seemed to be a depressing finality surrounding it.

Mufasa swallowed. "Take care of Sarabi, please?"

Did you even need to ask?

But he didn't have the emotional strength to speak. He nodded.

"And remember what I told you. It'll help."

"What?"

The sun was glowing unexpectedly brighter than ever- he had to squint his eyes to fully see his father. "Remember?" Mufasa reminded him, "We're-"

But then with no warning Mufasa was pulled even further apart from Simba, one more step and he would have fallen off Pride Rock. The impressive lion rolled his eyes in frustration then said, "Apparently there's no time."

There's got to be more time, you can't just leave like that!

Mufasa breathed deeply. "I'm sorry I can't stay longer."

And now the sun wasn't obscuring Simba's father, his father was the sun, turning golden, beautiful, hypnotic. Simba wanted to speak but there didn't seem any words left to say until Mufasa said, "Honestly, Simba, I'm so proud of you. I couldn't ask for a better son."

I don't think I deserve that title.

And then he knew what to say but all too quickly, the sun dimmed, taking Mufasa with it.

You idiot! You always leave things too late!

"I love you!" Simba screamed, his words tearing at the morning air. "I love you!"

No-one replied and he felt the urge to cry again but he repressed it. He felt someone by his shoulder. Turning, he saw his mother, looking at him, concerned. Her mere presence consoled him.

"He's gone," Simba croaked, choking back tears.

"I know," Sarabi replied gently.

"I was too late to tell him... he couldn't hear..."

The old Queen licked his cheek comfortingly. "Something tells me that he heard you."

Simba looked up at the beautiful sky, not having the energy to gasp. Mother and son, for a precious moment both saw the outline of a lion, who smiled warmly then faded to nothing.

They stared in wonder, their hearts healed.

And Simba knew that whatever miracle that had happened before, he was certain of what lay ahead:

Soon he would become King of Pride Rock.

There we go, another chapter done and dusted. :)

A big thank you to everyone who has reviewed so far, keep 'em coming people. :D

IMPORTANT:- As we are approach Christmas, the next chapter will be up sometime in the New Year. (Ah 2010 already?!) Until then, have a very Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year! :)