A/N: Wow! It has been a while since I uploaded. I went through a short period of having absolutely no motivation to write, so this sat untouched for quote some time. But it's finished now and ready to read! Cheers!

"Madness is somewhere between chaos and having a dream."

- R.M. Blake

The gentle wind of the dawn blew steadily, the breeze rustling the king's fiery mane as he trekked across the plains. The sky was bathed in shades of pink and bright orange and the sun was just beginning to crest over the horizon. Birds were calling their morning greetings to the waking world, insects buzzed as they flitted to and fro, and a few of the prey animals were just beginning their first graze. Simba was oblivious to this, however, keeping a steady, almost routine pace. His paws struck the ground in practiced motions. His mind brimmed and swirled with a thousand and one thoughts. Each of them concerning his daughter.

As of this moment she was still missing. He had sent several search parties across the pridelands, but each one came back with the same; absolutely nothing. There were no signs. No evidence of any struggle. And any scent trail ended before leading to anything of importance. Even his own mate, the best tracker in the pride, was at a loss.

A sharp growl rose in his throat just then. It didn't make sense. He had taken nearly every precaution that fateful afternoon; dispatching Timon and Pumbaa, assigning Zazu to check in every few hours, marking paths for Kiara to follow, and even sending one of his lionesses when the day grew late. The only thing he hadn't done was attend her as she played, and here he was cursing himself for failing to follow through. Simba couldn't help but feel personally responsible. It was his daughter after all, and who better to tend to a child than their own parent. But being the reigning monarch meant there wasn't enough time in the day to dedicate to everything expected of him. Tensions were still high even though it had been many seasons since Scar's tyrannical rule. The Pridelands had returned to its former luscious state, but the echoing threat of faminine, drought, and starvation clung heavily onto each of his pride members, and the other animals of the lands too. The damage done was too great to repair in a quick manner and much of it rested on his shoulders.

But Kiara was his pride and joy, the reason he continued to fight for the land his forefathers had so painstakingly carved out. And without her, what did he have? A mate whom he knew would never forgive him and a pride that would survey him with thinly veiled suspicion. For if he couldn't protect his own daughter, how could he be expected to rule and defend the others who depended on him?

The answer was on the tip of his tongue, but he refused to speak it into being.

"Hey, Your Majesty, what brings you all the way out to Rafiki's tree, eh?"

The golden lion came to a halt, momentarily pulled out of his daze, and looked up. Before him loomed The Great Baobab, its ancient branches, exploding with leaves, extended to the heavens. On one of the branches perched the wizened Royal Mjuzi, a grin on his maw and a twinkle in his eye.

A strange feeling coursed through Simba. The Great Kings had seemed to ignore his silent pleas, but now he knew they were simply responding in their own fashion.

"Rafiki." He said. "It seems my head was taking me in one direction while my paws had other plans. Though, I'm sure you already know why I ended up here. The spirits were always more fond of you. Even when I was young."

"It is true I have an affinity for the Great Spirits, but I'm not sure I'd call it a liking." He chuckled, swinging down to land before the king. "I'm more or less a vessel for their idle gossip. Whenever something bothers them I hear about it. Sometimes it's difficult to decide what's important and what's just petty hearsay."

"That's more than I can claim. They've been silent as of late, and, right now, I need guidance more than ever."

"Kiara's still missing."

Simba noted the baboon phrased that as a statement rather than a question. He figured it was common knowledge throughout the kingdom that the princess was missing. It wasn't that hard to notice the increased patrols and extra lionesses roaming farther than their usual hunting grounds. And he knew Zazu had been to the herd leaders in the hopes that they could shed some light on the pressing situation, but that was going about as well as everything else.

"I just feel so lost."

He looked into Rafiki's eyes, searching for some sort of reassurance. Something that could ease his heart that the spirits had given him a sign of his daughter's whereabouts. Even just a small seed of information. But all he found was intense sorrow and pity. He bowed his head, tears beginning to form at the corners of his eyes.

"How could this happen?" He stammered, his voice cracking as his sorrow twisted into something like anger. Hot, heavy tears slipped down his cheeks. "What did I do to deserve this?"

"Simba, you know as well as I that the Great Kings cannot control everything. They simply aid us on our journey. We make our own destiny."

"But haven't I done everything they asked of me? I mean, I put my future on the line to bring the Pridelands back. I could have stayed in the jungle, and left this entire place and the pride to rot. And yet, I came back and I've done nothing but struggle to restore the peace. And what do they do in return? They take my daughter from me. Tell me Rafiki," He spat. "How much must I endure before they deem me worthy of help?"

"I will not lie to you, your Majesty." The baboon tugged at his beard. "The spirits have remained silent with me as well. Whoever took your daughter seems to have done well to elude them. But this doesn't mean all hope is lost. There are places in this world the ancestors do not deign to visit. Places where only those who have turned their back dare to reside. There is a place near the pridelands that fits such a description."

"What are you saying?"

"What I'm saying is that I believe your daughter is in the Outlands."

As the words left Rafiki's mouth, Simba felt a shiver run through him. A jolt of memories and emotions. Fear, pain, and suffering rolled into one great wave. The Outlands had been nearly forgotten by the kings of the Pridelands, including the tyrannical Scar, but after the events that led to him being king, it had become prominent once again. He could still remember the look of utter betrayal and grief that had nearly been carved into Zira's face as he exiled her and her lionesses; hear the rage as she swore her vengeance. At the time it had seemed like a faraway dream, but now it was manifesting quicker than he could comprehend.

A second thought occurred to him, crashing through and pushing away the first. If Zira truly had taken Kiara, then she was in more danger than he could ever imagine. There was no telling what that crazed, grief-stricken lioness would do.

"Rafiki, send a messenger bird to Nala. Have her gather the lionesses and meet me near the western border."

"Yes, your Majesty."

Wasting no time with goodbyes to the Shaman, Simba broke into a sprint towards the Outlands with only one thought on his mind; rescuing Kiara.

The borders were silent. Neither hide nor tail of any animals to be seen save for a small gathering of lionesses. Each of them thin and unkempt, but carrying with them an overall sense of eagerness. Zira, stoic and hardened as ever, sat even more silent in the middle of the group, her claws the only movement as she picked at the dried dirt. They had been sitting for what felt like hours. Watching and waiting for any signs of pridelander life. Eventually her patience had worn thin enough to send a scout, but so far, she hadn't returned.

"Do you want me to go look for her?" Umija inquired, coming to stand next to the queen.

"No. Chagina will not fail me."

"As you wish."

Zira had no doubts when it came to Simba. She knew he would suspect the Outlanders sooner or later. It was his custom regardless if they had truly committed any transgressions at all. She supposed he had inherited that trait from his father. Mufasa had been hot-headed in his youth and that had carried on to the first years of his reign making relations with other prides difficult to maintain. It was that nature alone that almost cost them their lives when she and her pride-sisters had reached the Pridelands. But he hadn't lasted very long anyways. She helped see to that.

A sharp thumping and crunching of long grass began from the territory before, getting louder and closer with each passing second. On instinct Zira sprang to her paws and unsheathed her claws. Her lionesses followed suit. Seconds later she softened when her scout burst through the blades. Chagina made a rapid halt before Zira, her sides heaving as she took heavy breaths.

"Well?" She said, doing her best to calm her startled nerves.

"I found them," Chagina sputtered. "Or, well, they found me, sort of. They caught my scent, but they didn't see me. I lead them in this direction, so they can't be much farther behind."

"Good. Join the others."

She watched as Chagina moved to take her place amongst the lionesses. She was one of the younger, bolder members of the pride; reckless and eager to please, which was welcomed, but could spell trouble if not monitored. This time around her bold nature proved to produce something fruitful.

Angling her muzzle towards the sky, Zira took a deep breath, searching for a particular scent on the wind. Her lips pulled back in a sly smile as she recognized the crisp, fresh aroma. Chagina was correct. They were close indeed. Moments later, the grasses parted a second time, but instead of a simple scout, the king and queen of the land appeared with a small entourage of lionesses. Each one put on a front of anger and rage, but their eyes betrayed them. Zira could see the fear behind Simba's umber eyes and Nala's blue ones. She took a daring step forward.

"How good of you to grace us with your presence, your Majesty." She said, a malicious gleam in her eyes. "My pride and I were beginning to think you would never come." Simba opened his maw to reply, but the queen cut him off with a snarl.

"Give us back our daughter before I gut you where you stand!"

"Ah, ah, ah." Zira tutted. She had prepared herself for Nala's temper. Through the years she hadn't changed. She was still as ill-tempered and brash as ever. "That's no way to speak to someone who holds Kiara's life in her paws. If you wish to ensure your daughters' safety, I suggest you watch your tone."

For a fraction of a second she thought Nala was going to pounce then and there, but instead, the cream lioness returned to her place beside the king. The golden lion stepped forward next. Zira locked eyes with his determined gaze.

"Zira." He said coolly.

"Simba." She responded.

"We all know you have her. What do you want?"

"What

want? It's not about that. You took away the only thing in the world I ever wanted the night you came crawling back. But if you're offering, I suppose your head would suffice."

"Enough with the games, Zira."

"Oh, I assure you I'm being quite serious. All you Pridelanders ever do is take and take, without regard for anyone but yourselves. And now, I'm taking something for a change." Zira spat, her anger spilling over just slightly. "Your daughter trespassed in our lands. I simply took what was due; a pound of flesh."

The energy seemed to crackle in the air just then. Both parties felt the change; their bodies and auras shifting and moving with the imbalance. With a sharp cry, Nala launched herself forward, her intent to reach Zira clear in her trajectory. Zira bunched her muscles, ready to meet her opponent when a dark blur crossed her vision. The opposing queen and one of her own lionesses went sprawling in a tumble or teeth and claws. Seconds later the border exploded with fighting lions.

Zira sprang and felt her claws collide with the body of an unknown lioness. She felt the first trickles of blood spurt against her paw. The lioness, russet in color, reared on her hind legs and swiped ferociously at her maw. Zira barely dodged in time. She felt her opponent's claws brush against the fur on her crown. Using the recovery time to her own advantage, she leapt onto the other lionesses back. She dug her claws into their shoulders and sank her fangs into her scruff. The lioness reared a second time, trying to shake her off, but Zira held strong. She ripped and bit with everything she had, blood and fur entangling in her claws. The lioness, pained cries escaping her lips, let her legs give way and rolled. The sudden movement surprised Zira. Her head struck the ground and she loosened her grip. Dazed, and in pain herself, she pushed back up just in time to see the russet pelt disappear through the long grass.

Getting back to her feet, Zira surveyed the fight around her. Her own pride was holding and the pridelanders had all fled, save for the reigning monarchs and two other lionesses. Simba himself finished successfully suppressing one of her own; Adhama from the looks of it. He gave one final swipe before she too took off for safety.

"Look around you, Simba," Zira called. "You don't stand a chance."

"Zira, this is madness."

"Is it? Look around you. Isn't it madness to fight a battle you have no chance of winning?"

Simba looked around at those remaining and his expression melted into that of defeat. Zira's heart swelled with pride. Look at how they crumble.

"This isn't over."

Signaling to his remaining pride members, Simba made a hasty retreat, no doubt to curl up in his den to lick his wounds. Nala flashed Zira one last murderous look before following suit.

"Oh no, Simba," Zira said, quietly. "It has only just begun."