A/N: Hey everyone! I just wanted to say thanks for all your kind words and the wonderful reviews you have all left me! It means a lot to me that you really enjoy my work!

Something else I want to tell you is that I'll be starting school in a few days. Once that starts, it's going to be very difficult for me to find some free time for my writing. But even so, I'll do my best to have new chapters up as soon as I can. Thanks for understanding! More importantly, thanks for caring .

VII
The Good King

Simba sat at the foot of the old tree, staring blankly at it. The remnants of old bones whistled in the slight breeze of the wind, humming the mournful tune of Mufasa's soul. Simba shook his head as he glanced sadly at the old bones. He remembered his father's long ago words, words that whispered into his ear as if being spoken by the bones themselves....

When we die, our bodies become the grass. And the antelope eat the grass. And so, we are all connected in the Great Circle of Life...

How true those words had been. The bones were now nestled over a neat bed of mossy grass, grass as green as the leaves of the acacias. There was a pungent scent to them, a sweet, almost familiar scent. Simba ran a paw over the thick blades of grass, sighing deeply.

"Father..." he whispered under his breath. "Father, forgive me. Forgive me for almost making the most devastating mistake. Forgive me for my anger. For my spite."

The lion bowed his head mournfully and pressed his eyelids shut. He inhaled deeply, taking in the sweet scent of the grass. He could almost smell Mufasa in the soft blades, wrapping him in a solemn embrace.

"Simba?"

Simba turned his head to see Kamau standing there hesitantly. Simba hid his expression of shock that Kamau would even think of following him. After what he had done, almost killing him, here he was standing before him? Mixed with his shock was a pang of old malice. How dare he follow him in here? Into his father's resting place! Where the darkest of deeds had been committed? Yet how would Kamau know? He hadn't even been born yet, nor did he know who his father even was until now.

Simba turned his head away from Kamau, and back to the grave of his father.

"This is my father's resting place," Simba said quietly. "This is where it happened."

Kamau knew what "it" meant. He knew the story. The tale of the Great King's death by Scar's paws at the foot of the old gorge. He nodded his head and stared at the mound where Simba sat. Simba noticed where his eyes fell.

"This is where he fell," he said.

Kamau stayed where he was as he observed the mound, not wanting to interrupt the young lion's grief. He shook his head as his eyes welled up with tears, knowing he was the son of that murderer, the reason his half brother suffered so much. He looked ashamedly up at Simba, his blue eyes searching for even a hint of respect.

"I'm surprised you came down here," Simba said still not looking over at him. "I'm surprised you followed me after...well, after what happened."

"Simba," Kamau said as he got to his feet. "Simba, please forgive me."

"No," Simba said abruptly as he turned to face Kamau. "No, forgive me."

Kamau looked up at him with a look of confusion and curiosity mixed into his features.

"I should not have said what I said, or done what I did," Simba said. "I almost committed the same mistake that Scar did all those years ago. I was overtaken by hate, and a thirst for vengeance. Forgive me for almost giving you what you did not deserve."

Kamau nodded slightly before saying, "I forgave you as I dangled over the ledge. You did not know, and I understand how you felt. I am the son of your father's killer."

Simba was startled by Kamau's response. "You were an inch away from death, me being your killer, and you forgave me so easily?"

Kamau smiled. "One thing I learned was to forgive those who do wrong to you. Yetunde told me that the gentle, understanding nature of our mother was what brought me to forgive so easily."

Simba shook his head. "I don't think mother has forgiven Scar, your father, for what he's done to her, and all that has happened."

"I think she has," Kamau replied. "In her own way, as long as he rests at peace, she has forgiven him. I know it in my heart."

Simba smiled. There was so much to more for him to learn as long as he reigned as King, yet Kamau had a wisdom far beyond his years. It seemed as though he bore Mufasa's wisdom and nobility, for he was indeed Kamau's uncle.

The two stared in silence at the lonely grave for a time, Kamau gathering the emotional feels of the scene. This was the first time in his life that he had seen the resting place of the almighty King Mufasa, a place where many animals traveled from far and wide to see. Some died just making the trek from their homes just to see a glimpse of it. Mufasa had been a great King and had ruled many years. Simba was born only a season before the King's death. His life had been a great one, and many referred to him as "The Good King."

Kamau finally mustered up the courage to walk up to the grave, and sit next to Simba. He stared in silence at the scene, and Simba watched him intently from the corner of his eye. He saw a few tears spring from Kamau's eyes as he stared down at his uncle's grave.

'Oh uncle, how I wish I could have known you,' Kamau thought to himself. 'How I wish I was not who I was. I wish I could have seen you, and have been able to learn from you. Simba is so lucky to have had you as a father. You helped mold him into a good leader, even if he doesn't know it. Please help me to be a good brother to him, and help me not to be like my father. You were the one true King, as Simba is.'

Simba watched Kamau and knew he spoke some sort of prayer to the dead King. Then he did the most noble, and respectful thing Simba had ever seen.

He watched as Kamau crouched into a submissive position, and bow to the lowly remains of the Good King. As a lone tear slipped down his muzzle, Kamau kissed the mound where Mufasa lay, and rose to his paws. Simba watched him as he made his way up the hill, away from the mound.

"Kamau?"

Kamau turned his head solemnly to look Simba in the eyes. Simba stared into Kamau's eyes and forced back tears. "You never told me what you truly came here for."

Kamau looked at him silently for a moment. "I came looking for hope."

Simba looked at him and furrowed his brow. He did not believe such a thing. Life was cruel to him, and every time he came to believe in it, hope seemed to pass him by like a stranger in the crowd.

"And what is hope?" Simba asked.

Kamau smiled. "Hope is whatever you want it to be. It's the spirit of your most yearned for dreams. It's the life of your children. It's the cornerstone of your determination and your strength. Hope lives where you least expect it."

"Where is that?"

Kamau walked back over to Simba, and to the grave of the Good King. He placed a paw on it and ran it across the soft blades of grass.

"It's right here."

Simba looked down again at his father's grave and with newly lit eyes, smiled down at it. As tears became present in his eyes once again, he pressed his eyelids shut and bowed his head. He sighed deeply as a tiny sob escaped his throat, and looked up at Kamau.

"We must never let the bonds of our father's ruin what relationship we ourselves have," Simba said. "By blood we may only be related by half, but in spirit we are whole. We share a mother, if not a father. But whether anyone approves or not, we are brothers. And there is nothing anyone can do to change that."

Kamau's eyes were wide with astonishment as a single tear escaped down his cheek. "Y-You called me...brother."

Simba smiled warmly through his tear filled eyes and motioned with one paw for Kamau to come to him. He instantly did so, and sobbed into his older brother's mane. Simba held him tightly and rested his head on top of Kamau's crying softly. This was his half brother, a member of his family.

They finally broke the embrace and wiped away their tears. Simba sighed deeply.

"We best get back to Pride Rock, and explain what's going on," Simba said as he stood up.

Kamau nodded, and the two took one last glance at Mufasa's resting place before turning and heading back up the gorge. They're trip was silent for the most part, but a warmth in their hearts now lived within eachother, and within Simba's a new word brought a content smile to his face.

Hope.

From a small crevice in the gorge, Kovu waited until Simba and Kamau had gone before emerging. He looked to and fro, making sure he was lone. Then quietly, he made his way over to Mufasa's grave. At the foot of the mound, Kovu sat down and hung his head. He looked at the old bones, and the gorgeous green grass below it, now being lit by the rays of the moon. He sighed deeply and ran a paw over the grass.

"Oh Mufasa," he whispered, trying to hold back tears. "Forgive me Mufasa. Forgive me for what I am about to do."

With tears in his eyes he shut them tightly, and turned from the grave. He solemnly returned to the outlands, leaving behind him the mound of the Good King, the blades of grass dancing silently to the rhythmic breeze.