Months passed again, and I ventured nowhere near the Eastern border, preferring to keep my distance from this rogue who played me for a fool. Relations in my own pride had not improved, but at least neither were starving or in great danger. The twinkle in dear Nala's eye was no longer just a twinkle, and she began to become more sluggish in her manner as the lump in her stomach grew ever bigger. Rafiki paid frequent visits, and every time put his ear against her stomach, clicking his tongue, muttering things like 'healthy young prince' and "hmm… twins maybe…"

Then, one night, Nala woke me with a start. She whimpered in my ear, "help," and I knew what was up. I rose quickly, and headed for a young lioness who I shook awake with difficulty.

"Get Rafiki," I said agitatedly, before rushing back to my Nala in her state on the stone floor. She didn't look good.

"It hurts, oh god it hurts," she moaned, beckoning me to her side.

Not that I could imagine the pain, I lay there with her, whispering what I hoped were words of comfort and support. Nala's reactions were painfully starved of love, though I couldn't really blame her in her present state. The lionesses in the cave had awoken in the ruckus, and Sarabi came over to me, and whispered in my ear.

"Traditionally, it does not do for males to remain when the miracle of life is on its way," she intoned.

My thoughts drifted back to my youth when I claimed that when I was King I would dispense with tradition, but in this case I decided it was an unwise move, and reluctantly left Nala's side to wait outside and leave her mother Sarafina to keep her company. Sarabi followed me outside, and I was thankful for it. It was rare indeed that I got the opportunity to speak one on one with my mother.

"She'll be OK, right?" I asked her, in a worried tone.

"Birth is dangerous," she began, and I whimpered pathetically, "but Nala is strong, I have faith in her. And so should you."

Of course, she was right – mothers always are. We sat in silence for a while, before she rested her head on my shoulder, just as Nala usually did.

"Just think, my own grandchildren," she smiled happily, "I never thought I'd live to see the day! Particularly not after… the incident."

I purred reassuringly. "I always wanted to make you happy mum. I hope this does for you as much as it will for me."

Tears formed in her eyes. "You have no idea, son.

"Even when you'd gone, I still loved you with all my heart. And I just want it to be known, I will always. No matter what."

The words pained her. "I know," I said confidently. Those two words on their own were so effective and true. Nothing ever comes before love, and this was one such occasion. I'd learned the hard way in my lifetime that as long as you have those who love you, it doesn't matter what happens, they'll always take you back.

A squeal came from the cave and a shout, "Simba! Come quick!"

I rushed in, faster than I'd ever remembered, forward to my mate. There, Nala lay, exhausted, eyes shut. My heart sank to depths it hadn't since the stampede. I couldn't believe it. She'd… gone.

Had I not been so caught up in my worries, I may have realised that there was no chance she was dead, but at the time, my mind naturally reverted to 'worst case scenario' mode. But, to my intense relief, Nala's eyes opened, and twinkled, while she smiled, tiredly. "Say hello to your new son."

She raised her forepaw, and there, clutched close to her chest were two cubs, a male and a female. They were beautiful, tiny balls of fur. Looking at them made my whole life worthwhile, and at that moment I vowed to make peace with the rebels in any way I could.

Then what Nala had said hit me. "My son? But what about the girl?" Somehow, I felt I already knew the answer.

"She didn't make it. I'm sorry I wasn't strong enough for her Simba." Nala looked crestfallen.

"Hey, hey, I'm not angry or upset with you. I'm proud. And anyway, we still have this beauty to look forward to."

I sniffed the male affectionately, and he meowed pathetically. Nala and I laughed meekly. "We need a name," I said.

"Tanabi," replied Nala, simply.

I couldn't argue. I looked at the fuzzy cub with extreme pride, and rolled the name over my tongue.

"Tanabi. I like it." Nala smiled, and I nuzzled her face.

Rafiki appeared from the shadows. "Oh, I am sorry about de girl," he said, "it was no good, she was dead when she came out." He raised her in his hands, and said, "I will bury her, and she will be remembered lovingly." And so she was, for the rest of our life.

Nala, Sarafina, Sarabi and I sat, admiring Tanabi for a long time, until we were aware of the dawn. The whole time, the cub had snuggled closely to Nala for warmth and protection, with its eyes firmly shut. I spoke aloud with pride and purpose to the others, "The circle of life continues. And with the greeting of this new generation, along with the other new cubs of our pride, I feel that we and the rebels should put away our differences for now, and celebrate the new prince."

My mother smiled. "Spoken like a true King," she said with admiration.

I couldn't help but smile back.