One-shot; this time it's about what happened to Zira after the flood. Something I thought up that might would've happened and would had been a nicer and suitable way for her to go.

I own nothing. The Lion King and all its content belong to Disney. I don't own the cover image either.

Enjoy the story!

Water trickled down the sides of the rock once the water levels from the flood had fallen down. The mica bits embedded in the granite glistened with the moisture on their crystal surfaces. Near the base of thew stone walls, coming out from the dwindling stream of water flowing was a figure crawling out onto the sandy shore. Anyone close by could clearly see a soaked and exhausted beige lioness coughing the water in her throat.

Ebony claws, four on each of her front paws, shot forward into the air before bending to gravity's will and smacking into the dirt below. The lioness groaned as her claws tried to latch on to the cavern's slippery floor and try to pull the rest of herself out of the flowing stream. Her lungs quickly contracted as she coughed and sent out the water that had come close to flooding her air intakes. Her eyes shut while she choked out all the fluid and when she opened them, her vision was blurry. She squinted trying to see through the disorienting veil, trying to see something before her.

Her eyelids widened as much as they could as the form of a lion, right before her, came into focus. Summoning the last bit of her energy and strength, she started crawling and reaching out to the lion. Her throat ached, strangely with a dryness, as she forced them to work.

"H-help me," she rasped. The sand clung to her soaked body and made it uncomfortable as she pulled towards him. She was so close, she could see his black mane peaking out from behind a log, possibly brought along with the flood waters. As soon as her energy was nearly sapped, she had managed to pull herself towards and onto the long. Her face turned down behind it, trying to look for the lion that would possibly help her up, maybe help her to recover back to full help. Her pupils dilated and as she focused at him.

"Nuka," she whispered.

A thin and scrawny lion laid limply before her. A few drops of moisture from the flood had clung to his whiskers and were slowly sliding off, one by one. The flood waters had also managed to carry away most of the logs off his body, minus one that laid loosely over his hind legs. His fur were cleaned for once, no longer plagued by the insects such as termites and dust that had made a home in between his locks. His poorly developed mane was smoothed out and plastered to his face, head and neck instead of its usual spiked and frizzy style. His form was limp and lifeless, as was to be expected as he had died just a day before now. Yet despite the lacerations that would be seen marring his appearance in his death state, his body actually appeared to be free of any cuts, bruises, or other faults. In death, he actually appeared to be whole and in one piece, almost a perfectly preserved dead lion.

She could only gaze upon her dead son in awe. Hesitantly and slowly, her paw shakily reached out and cupped under his chin. She remembered a sight like this, one that resembled her son, but in a different time and place, with a different light, rather than in the shadows. She had been their when the rains has doused the fires surrounding Pride Rock. The hyenas had died in the flames, the remaining ones had fled. She had walked the charred and ashy ground, searching for her beloved mate and king.

There before her, leaned against the base of Pride rock and covered in head to tail in slash and teeth marks, along with scorches from the fire, she had found Scar. She had rushed over to his side, cupping his chin just as she now had done with Nuka's, whispering his name while the tears stung at her eyes. The soot had only made the tears come harder, as the sand and bits of debris from the water did now.

Her son resembled Scar so much, even in his death he even resembled how his father had died. Here she was, with her son, the last member of their family that was still loyal to Scar's cause. He had passed away, still holding on, just as his father did. All those years, Zira could think of, that she had neglected him, focusing only on the one Scar said could be his heir. The heir that later had betrayed his loyalty to the enemy. Now she realized, now she truly realized, that Nuka had been Scar's one true heir all along.

A stream of tears dripped down from each face. Liquid sadness turned to fluid joy dripped down and onto the sandy ground. Using what was left of her strength, she gently set Nuka's head back down and reached out towards the last log on his body. Her muscles stretched, some even snapped for all the strain they were put in earlier, but her furthermost claw touched the end of the log and hooked on to its rugged bark. It was a small movement, but she succeeded in letting the log off his body.

Her arm fell limp, no longer to hold up any longer, or anymore. Her heart felt shriveled in her chest and its beats grew slower and softer, echoing gently in her mind. Her time was near, she thought. Her vision was becoming cloudy again and she felt the lower half of her body become numb, slowly spreading up towards her head. Her last paw, the one still draped over the log her chest and head was over, shakily reached out and her claw extended to place under her son's chin one last time. For the first time in years, a smile graced her lip and her eyes twinkled in admiration and pride for him.

"Well done my son," she whispered inaudibly. Her eyes shone with one last spark of light before it extinguished and her paw fell limply to the ground.

"I will see you in the stars, along with my love."

Hope you enjoyed this. I originally was going to go with a different scene, with Zira just weeping over her son's death and admitting her true feelings and how they've changed over the years, but inspiration had other plans, as it usually does. Thank you all for reading, please review, they are loved and cherished, and I'll see you next time. Sincerely, v.t.7