Surprisingly this chapter took me longer to write than the previous. Hope you like it!

Scar after having done his terrible deed to his brother and convinced Simba to run away, was prowling about the canyon until he was sure that the coast was clear to return. But suddenly the dark lion smelled a familiar scent; Demona.

A small smirk showed upon his features, but a prick of worry was present as well. What if she had seen him kill Mufasa? Well, he would take care of that for certain.

He followed Demona's scent until it led him to where the lioness lay unconscious, some blood on her pelt from a wound by the rocks and Wildebeest. Scar could see her chest rising and falling, signaling her still alive. This was another perfect alone moment for him and her. Giving a small purr, he began to clean the blood off her pelt as the hyenas then returned by near sunset.

"We took care of the prince, Scar. He's gone, he won't come back!" Shenzi declared proudly. Scar nodded in his approval, Demona's blood on his muzzle. He kept up his task of grooming her pelt down until Demona began to stir, telling the hyenas to move someplace else for now.

Demona's head and body hurt terribly, and felt sick to her stomach from all the dust and heat. Her eyes blinked when waking from feeling someone grooming her. Maybe it was Mufasa, perhaps she was back at Pride Rock. Turning her head, her rescuer came into view; revealing Scar. Demona gasped in fright and anger, weakly shoving away.

"Shh, don't try to get away, my precious little future mate, that is disrespectful to the new king…" Scar said in an evil tone. This surprised Demona. New king?

"W-where's Mufasa?" She croaked, pushing as much as her weak body allowed into the cliff to get away from Scar. Scar lifted up the gargess's chin.

"The king is dead, as is his son, trampled by the many wildebeests because you couldn't save them on time." Scar informed Demona, who felt shock radiating in her. No! Mufasa couldn't be dead! He was too strong!

"Y-you're lying!" Demona snarled in anger, stumbling to her feet. Scar just shook his head. "If you don't believe me, allow me to show you."

He eventually took Demona to where Mufasa's body lay. Demona's heart felt like it could break. She just couldn't believe that the one that took her in, made her feel accepted was now gone. Mufasa's eyes were closed. The way he lay looked like he was asleep. Demona lay down in her sadness, her vision replacing Mufasa's body with Goliath's, coming to terms at how much she missed her old mate. As it turned out now animals were just as big killers as humans.

She hardly felt Scar rubbing on her fur, as if for comfort, but it was really a suggestive tone. He purred softly. "So sorry for you to lose your precious friend. I had tried to save him, but he slipped out of my paws. Simba was lost to the stampede. But I can be your comforter during this time, if that sounds nice to you." He murmured. Demona sniffled, but then she caught a faint scent. It smelt like Simba, coming from where the gorge ended off a cliff.

Just smelling that scent of her nephew made a spark rise into Demona's heart. If Simba was alive, she wouldn't rest until he was brought home. But she wouldn't tell Scar this. The gargess lioness's eyes glowed, turning to face the tyrant.

"I've said this twice, I'll say it again; I don't love you, Taka." Mufasa had once told Demona his brother's real name one time. Scar bared his teeth from his true name being spoken that way. "Just back the hell away from me! I won't belong to you!" Demona spat, scratching her talons across Scar's face. The dark lion roared, as Demona made a break for it, running as hard as her sore body could muster.

Scar hissed after Demona who had defied him yet again. But that didn't matter to him now, he had a kingdom to rule. After kicking dust over his brother's corpse Scar proceeded his way back to Pride Rock. He was unaware of course that the hyenas didn't exactly kill Simba.

…

Demona continued to run while the dying light of the sun streaked across the gorge walls, eventually reaching the exit opening that showed the cliff. It was challenging climbing up those steep rocks but Simba's scent was leading her over them.

She stared at the pile of thorns below her, grimacing at the idea of following the scent in there but there was no other option. Demona took a deep breath, carefully sliding her way down the cliffside so she didn't fall.

But her claw snagged on something, making Demona lose her footing and stumble near the bottom into the painful thorns, making the gargess yowl in pain from some of the thorns digging deep into her skin.

Demona did her best through the pain to push past the terrible thorn bush. It took nearly forever, the thorns scratching her face. She had to close her eyes at one point before it blinded her.

At last, she burst through the thorns, her fur all scratched up, some of it left behind in the mess. Demona moaned in annoyance. It will take forever for this to grow back, she thought, licking her wounds first, managing to pull out one or two thorns, but forced to leave some in until better treatment was to be found. After that, Demona ran/limped her way accross the desert in hopes to find Simba alive and not a corpse like Mufasa. Tears came to her eyes when she thought of Mufasa's body being left for vultures, and not able to have a proper burial.

….

The night came, cooling off the hot desert sun which was a relief for Demona, stumbling across the desert dunes and scraggly rock plains, hoping for any sign of water, Simba, or both. She knew she couldn't go back right now, not with Scar as the new king, and her nephew suffering out here. Dizziness waved across her vision, the stars dancing in a silly way in the sky.

"Oh… stop… n-need water… S-Simba…" Demona slurred, staggering and slipping. Her wounds were killing her and the sand was no better. But then suddenly she caught a strong whiff. It was Simba's scent again after losing it a while ago! But right now it was so strong! Where was he?!

Demona glanced about, trying to catch a glimpse of her nephew, until suddenly, she saw an unmoving figure lying down in the sand, a rather small one.

She gave a choked cry of happiness. This had to be her cub! Demona stumbled weakly, one paw lifted up from her pain. Demona after some time reached the little figure in the sand. And it was Simba, but lying on the ground as if dead. Tears slipped down. Demona licked him with her dry tongue.

"Please, don't die my nephew. I'm here. Please…" Demona whispered tearfully, trying to wake him but it wasn't working. Her dizziness got to her again, and her tired eyes drooped. She had to sleep, but no, she… couldn't… give… up…

It was hard for the gargess to fight this feeling anymore, curling up around her Nephew's body. At least she would ensure Simba wouldn't die alone and unloved. Her senses fading away again into nothing from numbing pain and grief.

….

Meanwhile in a large oasis the next day, a warthog was pulling out porcupine quills from his meerkat friend's back. He suddenly notes the buzzards flocking around something.

"Oh, look Timon! Buzzards! What do you say, one more round?"

Timon huffed. "Oh, sure, there must be some part of me we hadn't injured yet," he grumbled when yelping after another quill was taken out. The warthog Pumbaa next acted like a dog, wiggling himself to get ready to pounce. "Please? Oh please?" He begged non stop. Timon shook his head. "Nah, Pumbaa, I'm beat. Ya go ahead, I'm callin' it a day." He managed to pull out the last quill himself, walking away.

Pumba sniffled. "But it no fun alone…" he whined. That tugged Timon's heartstrings, changing his mind and jumping on Pumbaa's back. "Ah, why not? One more run won't change our lives!" Little did he know how wrong he was as they charged out to scatter the buzzards.

The birds squawked in surprise, beginning to take off. Pumbaa kicked some, and Timon waved his hands at some others until they were gone.

"Whoo! I love it! Bowling for Buzzards!" Pumbaa cheered. Timon dusted himself off, laughing. "Gets em every time!" Timon laughed.

Pumbaa then noticed the Buzzard's victims. "Uh oh… hey Timon! You'd better come look! I think they're still alive!" Timon glanced over. "Yeesh!" He grimaced, mostly from how the larger body looked with thorns and wounds.

"Alrighty, what have we got here?" He asked, sniffing the smaller body. He lifted its paw, revealing Simba. His eyes popped. "Jeez! They're lions!" He shrieked, scrambling away and jumping onto Pumbaa. "Run, Pumbaa! Move it!"

Pumbaa frowned. "Hey, Timon, it's just a little lion! And this one here seems hurt." He said, pawing the larger one with his hoof. "It would be cruel to leave them. And this little one is so cute!"

Timon pulled on Pumbaa's ear. "Pumbaa, are ya nuts?! Lions eat guys like us!"

"But they're alone and hurt!" Pumbaa protested. Timon huffed. "Yeah, once they get their strength what's to stop them from eating us?" He demanded. Pumbaa smirked.

"Well, they'd be grateful we saved their lives. And they would be on our side then," he said. This made Timon roll his eyes. "That's the stupidest idea I've ever heard. They'd—." He paused. "Hey, I got it! What if they are on our side? Ya know? Maybe having lions around may not be such a bad idea after all!" Pumbaa beamed.

"So we're keepin' 'em?" He asked, grasping Demona first and putting her on his back as much as possible. "Pft, of course. Who's the brains of this outfit?" Timon stated, smiling. Pumbaa looked confused after lifting up Simba in his tusks. "My thoughts exactly. Sheesh, I'm fried. Let's get outta here and find some shade."

Pumbaa did just that, scouting for an oasis, eventually finding one, laying the lions near the water. Timon looked around for some medicine for Demona, seizing some special healing leaves from the bushes, mushing them up, placing them on her wounds, and putting cold water on her and Simba's faces.

The two groaned, opening their eyes. Demona herself felt terrible, a foggy memory of what happened. She could see Simba, and two unknown animals nearby.

"A-Auntie?" Whimpered Simba, gazing at her next to him. Demona tried to sit up but flinched from her wounds that seemed to now have a special herb medicine on them. She wondered now if it was that crazy monkey who saved them. But all she saw near them was a warthog amd a meerkat who looked awfully familiar.

"Ah, you're awake. You two ok?" Timon asked, reaching out. Demona grunted a bit from the dizziness in her head. "M'suppose, dizzy and sore," she mumbled. Simba was able to get up, nudging his aunt to her paws. She stumbled but was able to get her footing. Pumbaa looked concerned. "You two nearly died!" Timon grinned. "I saved ya!" This made Pumbaa huff in annoyance. "Well, uh, Pumbaa helped. A little."

"Well, uh, thanks…" Demona said groggily, As she gazed at Simba who looked away in shame. Then she remembered; Mufasa was dead. Her ears flattened in sorrow, but she licked her cub.

"Please don't blame yourself, Simba. It wasn't your fault," she said gently. "Let's just go home," she suggested. But Simba shook his head. "Don't want to go home…" he sniffled. Timon suddenly felt sorry for the cub. "Gee, they look blue," he whispered to Pumbaa. Pumbaa raised his brow. "I say brownish gold!" He argued. Timon just shook his head. "No, I mean they're depressed!"

Demona had cuddled around Simba to comfort him before they went on their way when Timon and Pumbaa sat down near them. "So, what's eating you two?" Pumbaa asked. Timon ended up grinning. "Nothin', they're at the top of the food chain!" He began laughing but the other three didn't find it funny, making the meerkat stop laughing.

"So, where are you two from?" Demona now didn't feel like telling him. Scar ruled now, and she couldn't go back. Even with Simba's mother there is no way she would let Scar see him now. Her ears lowered. "What does it matter? We can't go back anyway," she said sadly, holding her cub xlose. Simba looked a bit sad about that but then saw the truth for it. Timon grinned. "Ah, you two are outcasts! That's great! So are we!" He claimed.

Pumbaa gkanced at them in concern. "What did ya do, kid?" Simba flattened his ears. "Something terrible. But I don't wanna talk about it." Demona licked him comfortingly to try and say it wasn't his fault again.

Timon crossed his arms. "Good! We don't wanna hear about it!" Pumbaa glared. "Come on, Timon. Anything we can do?" Demona just gave them a glare, too.

"Well, not if you got magic to change the past," she snipped, making Pumbaa flinch, but he grew cheery in two seconds. "Well, like my buddy Timon here says; you gotta put your behind in your past!" Timon rolled his eyes. "No, no, no! Amatur! Lie down before ya hurt yourself!" Demona just huffed a little. She figured that sounded backwards, and knew what was coming.

"It means you gotta put your past behind you." Timon corrected. This made Demona hiss a bit. She would never forget about that night her clan was destroyed by the humans. The meerkat just ignored it and kept talking. "Look, bad things happen and ya can't do anything about it, right?"

Demona raised her brow as Simba mumbled "Right…" Timon stopped him right there. "Wrong! When the world turns its back on you, you turn your back on the world!"

How did this rodent get my thoughts right? Demona thought incredulously. Simba was confused, though. "But that's not what I was taught." Timon put a hand on his shoulder. Then maybe you need a new lesson! Repeat after me." He cleared his throat. "Hakuna Matata!"

Demona and Simba both raised their brows now. "What?" They both asked. Pumbaa smiled. "Hakuna Matata! It means no worries!"

Ugh, figures. Demona grumbled silently. That saying sounded stupid to her as Timon started singing about said saying. He led the two lions into a beautiful large jungle area with clear water and shade. The grass felt much better under Demona's feet; she couldn't help but breathe a sigh. The two of them were laid back on the soft ferns in the shade. Demona couldn't help the smallest of smiles on her features, stretching out and extending her claws. Timon gulped slightly from seeing them but kept singing along with using a wooden filer to file down Simba's claw.

Demona looked up from her stretching. "Why Hakuna Matata? It sounds silly," she muttered, licking her paw. Pumbaa smiled. "It's our motto!" Simba looked confused. "What's a motto?" Timon got onto his lap. "Nothin' what's a motto with you?" He laughed but stopped at Demona's growl.

Pumbaa quickly changed the subject. "Ya see you two? These little words will solve all your problems!" Timon nodded. "That's right! Take Pumbaa for example. Why, when he was a young warthog…"

"When I was a young warthoooogggg!" Pumbaa sang quite loudly causing Demona to flatten her ears. Timon cleaned his. "Very nice," he grumbled. Pumbaa grinned. "Thanks!" Then Timon told Pumbaa's story through song which was rather sad and pathetic to Demona. Simba gazed at his aunt with confusion but she shrugged while the other two kept up their musical.

Timon: "Oh! He was ashamed!

Pumbaa: "Thought of changin' my name!"

"Oh, what's in a name!"

"And I got downhearted!"

"How do you feel?"

"Every time that I–"

Timon quickly covered Pumbaa's mouth. "Whoa, Pumbaa, not in front of the kids!"

"Oh, sorry."

Amateurs, Demona thought in annoyance while Simba watched their new unusual friends swinging on a looped vine while singing Hakuna Matata more. Eventually her nephew caught on and began to sing, looking happier than she saw him earlier. Her heart began to feel somewhat lighter too just from hearing her nephew be happy again. Perhaps those words had some kind of magic after all.

Timon nudged her. "C'mon, miss. Sing it out!" He encouraged. Demona flushed. "Oh, no. I don't sing, it's a waste of time!" She grumbled, turning away. Simba frowned, sad her aunt couldn't join in. He then began to give her bambi eyes, which made Demona flinch. Gotta be firm… can't give in… but the face his nephew was making was starting to soften her heart. But how can she sing when she hadn't sung for a thousand years? It would feel too awkward for her!

Demona crouched. "I just can't. My heart had so much hate and vengeance inside that I lost taste for it…" she said gazing down in embarrassment. Timon and Pumbaa looked at each other in concern for the lioness. Timon came closer.

"It isn't hard. Just find the music inside you by allowing love to defeat all those dark feelings," Timon said with a surprising bit of sincerity in his voice. Demona gazed at him, then ended up having a tiny smile come on. Maybe, she can try.

"I-it means no worries… for the rest of your days…" she whispered/sang quietly. Simba gasped softly. Her auntie had a beautiful singing voice. Pumbaa was happy, bouncing, as the three of them sang more while Demona did too but softly, voice growing occasionally.

After their singing was finished, Demona felt considerably happier now. She had forgotten what the joy of singing felt like, and she liked it. Eventually Timon showed off more of their territory; which was rather beautiful and picturesque. Pretty water falls, healthy trees and other vegetation, she could see why they called this paradise.

But then came the downer of living with prey. Demona had felt her stomach growl, as did Simba.

"I'm so hungry I can eat a whole zebra," Simba admitted. Timon grimaced. "We're fresh outta zebra."

Simba listed off many others he liked to eat, making Demona feel more hungry. But all their new friends had to offer, was bugs. Actual bugs under a log.

Her face fell at the sight of all those creepies lurking. Demona detested bugs, stomach churning from seeing Timon swallow a worm whole.

"Tastes like chicken!" He complimented. Pumbaa slurped another worm. Demona and Simba both stared at him in disbelief while he grinned. "Slimy yet satisfying!"

Demona shook her head. "Uh, no. There's no way I'm eating those bugs! I'd rather go hungry!" She snapped. Timon picked one out for her which was a big ladybug.

"C'mon, these are rare delicacies! Especially those that taste like pecan and cream filled." Demona now really felt like throwing up while Timon put the choice of bugs on a leaf. Simba seemed reluctant but then chose a juicy caterpillar. Demona stared at her nephew incredulously. "Seriously?" She said in shock. Simba nodded. "If living with new friends means trying something new, then I'm gonna try it. Besides, Hakuna Matata," he said, gazing at the caterpillar in some disgust but eventually slurped it down. Demona shut her eyes, unable to watch. But Simba smiled. "Slimy, yet satisfying! Come on, Demona! Just try them!"

The former gargess moaned, reluctantly nodding and taking the ladybug. She shut her eyes again when crunching it in her teeth then swallowing. She expected a terrible taste; but surprisingly, it tasted like a cherry. Timon grinned. "So?" Demona gave just a little smile.

"Uh, not bad, I guess…" she said. Her friends cheered again.

After that everyone was exhausted for the evening. Timon showed them a place to sleep near a big tree close to where he and Pumbaa slept. Demona curled up, belly full of bugs that satisfied her hunger after dinner, Simba snuggling close as they fell asleep in their peaceful new home.

Demona eats bugs! Never thought you'd read that, did you? Lol!

Until next time!