Author's Note: This is an attempt to close gaps in between the first movie and the second, as well as tell the story of Zira, her pride, and her children.

Obviously, I do not own TLK or any of the characters that appear in that movie.

Content warnings for this story include mature language, death, descriptions of death/injury, and behavior mimicking child abuse and neglect. There will only be references to sexual content; nothing explicit at all.

With that said, thanks for reading. :)

The Chronicles of the Outlands

One: The Choice

Splayed claws tore at a sky enflamed and swollen with scarlet heat. The cub could see silhouettes, sleek and full of chaotic energy, throwing themselves at hunched-over shadows with shining teeth. The acrid tang of smoke in the air, the stench of blood, and the chorus of the lionesses' roars and the howls of the hyenas sent his small body into a shuddering panic. His teeth clacked in his clenched jaws, like bare branches in a windstorm.

"Shh," a sharp whisper came from the lioness above him. She had thrust her body, cavernous and thin from famine, in a protective arch over the cub. Her smell was of dust, of heat, and was all too familiar to him as his mother's smell. "Quiet, Nuka."

"Why is everyone fighting?" His voice echoed thinly in the cleft they hid in, a secret crevice Scar had urged them into when he began to sense trouble. From where they sat, muscles tensed together, they could see it all.

"I said shh." His mother's voice took an edge he'd never heard before, though it could be said her tone was never soft. "Stay here. Do not move. If anyone tries to come get you-unless it's me-you fight for your life... or run."

"Mother," he whimpered, close to panic as her body shifted past him. "Don't leave me!"

Like liquid, the thin lioness flowed from the crevice. She turned toward her son, the aggression on her face palpable. Nuka could see that her eyes were burning red, like the sky on fire above them.

"Not another word," she snapped, and with that, he lost sight of her. Her pawsteps, near-silent during peaceful times, were lost entirely in the outright chaos outside.

For what felt like hours, Nuka kept waiting for her dust-colored body to cover his view again, for her sharp face and sharper tongue to grace him. The heat was becoming unbearable for the small cub, and the smoke had begun to sting his eyes. Stone kept the fire restricted to the plateau of Pride Rock, where the bodies were; Nuka could see no flames inching toward him, and for that he was grateful.

At some point, the heat left. The sky had blackened, and the roars had quieted. There was some yipping, which he knew belonged to the hyenas; he detested the things, but his father insisted to the entire pride that they were there for the benefit of all. Their chattering raised the fur along his spine.

A drop of rain hit the stone before him, and Nuka swore he heard it sizzle.

"I think I found another one, hiding out here," came a snarling voice. Nuka yelped, and it echoed within the confines of his crevice; he pressed himself as far back into the stone as he could, unable to control his shuddering.

"Nasty things. Can't fight with honor," came another voice. Both were female, both were furious. Nuka watched a lioness's paw strike forward into the crevice's opening; her claws beckoned him closer. "Come on out, before I just shred you to pieces where you are!"

Despite himself, Nuka cried, "Mother! Help me!"

"Huh?" The lioness withdrew her forepaw. Wet, liquid brown eyes replaced the claws. "Oh, gods. It's a cub."

"Oh, come out, little one," the other voice cajoled, its tones softened. "We didn't realize you were... we're sorry."

Nuka remembered his mother's furious crimson gaze, the tone of her voice. But these lionesses were so warm, and besides, he recognized them-they were members of the pride. He inched out, fearful of their reprimands, but the closest brown-eyed lioness pulled him close to her and began to clean him gently.

"Where's my mother?" He asked them.

"Wait-Shani, that's Zira's cub," the other lioness said. Her tone was unreadable to Nuka.

Shani, the lioness who had been grooming him, stopped. She backed away from him, eyeing him like a deadly snake.

"That's right, you murdering bitches," came a lethal voice from behind Nuka. He knew who it was before turning to see her. His mother, covered in a sludge of ash, blood, and mud up to her chest, was heaving with rage. "Touch my son again and I'll flay you both down to your worthless skeletons!"

"You wanna say that again?" Shani bared her teeth and hunched her shoulders. Her friend, too, tensed in a manner that welcomed Zira's attack.

Nuka felt his mother's muscles bunch, and he began to cry, overwhelmed with all that was happening.

"No, please, don't fight," he said, the rain and his tears mingling. "No more, no more."

Shani looked at him, her expression full of one Nuka knew well, as the thin and gangly son of Scar, the sickly cub with a perpetual flea problem, whose parents even feigned affection toward him. Pity.

"What, gonna let a baby turn you away from a fight?" Zira spat. Her tail trashed behind her.

"What's the meaning of this?"

Nuka hunched lower between his mother's forepaws. A lion he had never seen before came thundering down the stone pack of Pride Rock. Though his mane was heavy with rain, it flowed freely around his golden face and body. This was a lion unlike his father, a lion who held his head high and met every face with confidence.

"Simba." Zira scraped her claws against the stone beneath them. Her voice dripped hatred. "Have you come to bring the news to the prince?"

"Prince?" The big lion let his gaze fall on Nuka. Their eyes met, and Nuka shuddered again, unsure if he should be afraid. "This cub was never the prince, Zira. I'm sorry for what's happened to you and your son, but Scar was never the rightful king of these lands."

"Liar!" Zira lowered her head, and Nuka felt her chin rest on the top of his head. "Tell him, your majesty. Tell him what's happened to his father!"

Simba looked like he wanted to turn around and run away. Instead, the lion crouched, his eyes level with Nuka's once more. He smiled at Nuka, but the cub felt no warmth.

"Tell me, little one," Simba began, his voice faltering, "your father is Scar?"

Nuka nodded, afraid.

"Well. Your father is-was-my uncle. He's no longer with us. He's gone to join the Great Kings." Nuka could tell it had cost him to say this-there was an expression of distaste on his face as he did.

Zira was not mollified. "No longer with us? Tell him why. Tell him how you threw him to his death to be mauled by hyenas!"

Simba bared his teeth. "I will listen to this no longer. Scar admitted to everyone here that he killed my father. Face it, Zira. Scar was a murderer, and he met his end the way he was meant to."

Zira roared, and Nuka cowered.

Shani and the other lioness protectively moved to cover Simba, but he shook them off.

"I won't have this dissent in my pride," Simba said gravely. "These lands have suffered enough. You all have suffered enough under Scar's rule. I will have peace, or I will get rid of the reason I don't have peace."

"Oh?" Zira smiled slowly. "If you're looking for a fight, I-"

"When I left Pride Rock," Simba interrupted, "I was a child, no bigger than your son here. I remember almost everyone here, but... you weren't a part of my father's pride, were you?"

Zira's ears flattened against her skull. "King Scar showed us mercy when no one else would. Even the gods. We would have starved to death or worse if he hadn't allowed us to join his pride. He saved us."

Murmurs of agreement rose around Zira. Simba looked up, seemingly surprised to see that a few lionesses had inched closer to the furious Zira. They looked strange to him, as their leader did; darker, sharper, their claws all partially extended as though their bodies were perpetually ready for battle.

"You were rogues," he said, understanding lighting up his face. "You don't know what Scar did to these lands, then. To his family."

"And why would we believe you?" Her teeth flashed.

"Because I am Mufasa's son. The rightful king. And Scar is gone." Simba's gaze hardened. "I will restore my father's kingdom. And I will not allow anyone to get in my way of doing so. If you cannot assimilate into my pride, then you will go back where you came from."

"That's impossible." Zira growled, infuriated all over again. "So! You'd exile me-for being Scar's mate!" She jerked her chin towards the emaciated lionesses gathered close to her. "You'd exile them for their loyalty to the only king they knew?"

"No." Simba shook his head. Tendrils of flame-red hair crossed into his eyes. "I'd exile you for being traitors." He looked again at Nuka. "I wish no ill will on you or your son. He did not choose his father, no more than I did mine, or you yours."

"But you'd banish us," she sneered. "How benevolent of you, King Simba!"

"Enough," he said, his tone cold. "You join my pride, or you leave my lands. That is final. Come to me with your choice once you've given yourself time to grieve."

With that, he turned his back on Zira, who continued to seethe. Once they'd gone, she left Nuka where he trembled, stalking for the shadows behind the base of Pride Rock.

He scampered after her, just in time to see a small group of lionesses gathered there. They raised their heads to welcome Zira, but Nuka could feel a spirit of mourning. He knew these lionesses well-they were more his pride sisters than the others. His mother had explained to Nuka that these lionesses and herself had come from the east as rogues. They had suffered on their journey, starved, and nearly died. Some did die along the way. Then they'd come to the Pridelands, where King Scar had shown mercy and allowed them to join the pride. This was despite the extra mouths to feed and the already withering state of the Pridelands. But to Zira and her pride sisters, it had been the difference between life and death.

These lionesses mourned a benevolent ruler, the only one they'd known. And Zira came to them now, full of fury.

"He gives me an ultimatum," she snarled, pacing among her pride sisters. "We are to decide if we'd like to live under the rule of a killer, or die in those same wastelands we escaped so many years ago."

"We've lived in hard times before," one lioness called, her face brave. "We could do it again, if we had to."

"But our cubs will starve," another said, voice mournful.

"So what!" Zira spat, the fur climbing along her spine. She saw Nuka out of the corner of her eye, then forced herself to calm down. She sat, beckoned for her son to approach her. He did, feeling several pairs of eyes appraise him for what he was-frail, skinny, dark-colored like a shadow, his fur wiry and unkempt. "Our young are strong, like we are," Zira said, stroking Nuka with an absent paw. "Even moreso, as they've had time to acclimate to hardship."

The lionesses glanced at one another, and finally one stepped forward, face outlined with the silvery rain. "I'll follow wherever you go, Zira."

Nuka's mother smiled. "Thank you, Damu," she purred.

Damu nodded, resolute. "We'd all be dead if King Scar had not accepted us on your behalf."

At this, the other lionesses began to pitch in, their voices strong.

"I'll go, too, Zira!"

"We'll be fine if we stick together."

"I'll never be led by a murdering rogue!"

Zira nodded; Nuka thought each cry gave her strength. Soon, she found it in herself to leap onto a small ledge, leveraging herself above the others. Nuka watched her body, lined by rain and by the sliver of moon in the sky, heaving with hunger, pelt roughened by famine and drought, and he still felt a devotion he would feel for the rest of his young life.

"Then three days from now, we tell him we'll go," Zira said. "And not only that, my sisters, but we will only go until the time to reclaim this land has come... in the name of King Scar."

The lionesses roared their agreement, and Nuka, young as he was, squeaked with them.