Run.

That was the only clear thought in the young king’s mind as he ran across the blazing desert sands as fast as his small legs could carry him. He had no idea where he was or how far he was from home. He only knew that he had to keep running. He gulped for air and felt tears sting his eyes, but he did not stop. The heat of the sun beat him mercilessly, exhausting him and burning his feet with each step in the hot sand, but he did not stop. His throat demanded water and his lungs screamed for respite, but he did not stop. He could not stop. He could only run. He did not know how long he could go on, nor could he bring himself to care. He simply kept running.

The king did not know when he had fallen, only that he was now lying on his side. He tried to get up, but failed to do so much as move a single leg. His entire body cried out in agony as his limbs ached and his chest burned. He could not even crawl. All he could do was lie there in the sand, his mind barely acknowledging its scorching heat against his body as he let out a pathetic whimper. The pain faded as the world turned black. Before the darkness took him, the king had one final, torturous thought.

Dad… I’m sorry.

The king felt something cool and wet touch his face. Slowly, he opened his eyes as his mind registered the feeling of water, which explained what woke him up. Groaning from his lingering weariness, his eyes fully opened and he beheld a very strange being standing before him.

The creature appeared to be some sort of deformed, stripeless zebra or antelope. It looked as though it had hooves, but it had neither stripes nor horns, and it was smaller than any of the grazing animals he’d seen. Its coat was as bright as a bird’s feathers, and it even had wings despite its size, but no beak. The king had to blink, for he could not quite believe what he was seeing. What manner of beast was this?

“Hey there, little guy,” it said sweetly, it’s voice clearly female. It pointed to an odd-looking thing that was full of water. Some sort of rock, perhaps? No, it looked like it was taken from a tree. “Here,” said the creature, “Drink this. You must be really thirsty.” The king blinked again, wondering where he was and what all of these things were. Nevertheless, his thirst demanded that he drink. Fortunately, the strange rock/tree thing held enough water to satisfy him, though it did nothing to quell his growing hunger. What could he do to feed himself? He could not hunt, as he hadn’t had enough pouncing lessons with his father. At the thought of his father, the cub wanted to cry. A murderer did not deserve food. He needed to move on. He needed to keep running.

“Thanks,” he said, “I’d better go now.”

The sound of gasps alerted him to other creatures like the one who woke him, these looking even stranger. One of them had wings like the bright yellow one, two of them each had a single horn instead of wings, the bright pink one had neither, and the orange one had some sort of brown shell on her head. The pink one moved directly in front of his face. “YOU CAN TALK?”

Why was she so surprised by that? These creatures were getting weirder by the second. “Uh, yeah. What’s wrong with that?”

“Oh, nothing!” said the purple one with a horn, “We’ve just never met a talking lion before!”

The bright pink one moved in front of his face again. “Hi! I’m Pinkie Pie! What’s your name?”

“Um… I’m Simba and… what are you?”

They all looked at him as if he were the strange one here. “You’ve never seen a pony before?” asked the winged one with the multi-colored mane that reminded Simba of a rainbow.

“No.”

The purple one smiled, gesturing to herself and her friends. “Well, we’re ponies. I’m Twilight Sparkle and, as you can tell by the single horn on my head, I’m a unicorn pony.” She pointed to the white pony. “This is Rarity, who is also a unicorn.” She then indicated Pinkie and the one with the shell on her head. “You’ve met Pinkie and this is Applejack; they’re earth ponies.” Lastly, she gestured to the two ponies with wings. “Rainbow Dash and Fluttershy are pegasi, that’s the plural form of pegasus, and they’re called that because they have wings. There are also alicorns, who have a horn and wings, but there are only three: Princess Celestia, Princess Luna, and Princess Cadance.

“But that’s enough about us. Are there any more of you? Talking lions, I mean. There’s never been any records of lions like you before, which means that this could be the discovery of a previously unknown sapient species! Do you have any kind of social hierarchy? What’s your system of-”

“Excuse me?” asked Rarity, “Sorry to interrupt, darling, but don’t you think you’re overwhelming the poor dear?”

The purple one chuckled, grinning bashfully. “Sorry. Got a little carried away there.”

Simba looked between the ponies, as they called themselves, and he did indeed feel overwhelmed by their weirdness. He really needed to move on before his head started to hurt. “Well… I think I’d better go.” He jumped from whatever rock-thing he had been lying on, landing perfectly on the ground. “It was nice meeting you.”

“Wait!” Fluttershy protested, moving in front of him, “I don’t think it’s a good idea to go out into the hot desert all by yourself.”

“She’s right,” said Rainbow Dash. “You almost died, kid. What were you doing out there, anyway?”

Simba sat down and turned his face away. “It doesn’t matter.”

Fluttershy gently laid her hoof on his back. “Are you lost?”

Simba nodded. He was very lost to end up in such a bizarre place. How he wished he was home.

“Are you trying to find your parents? We’ll help you.”

Simba shook his head, guilt and shame at what he’d done flowing through him. “No. I can’t go back.” His mother would turn away from him, and he’d deserve it.

“What are you talking about?” asked Rainbow Dash.

“Did you run away?” Fluttershy asked gently.

Simba hung his head. “I don’t wanna talk about it.”

Applejack stepped forward. “Aw, Simba, runnin’ away ain’t gonna do any good. Ah should know, Ah tried it. Ya’d feel a lot better if ya just went home. If yer lost, we can help ya find yer family again. They must miss ya somethin’ awful.”

Under different circumstances, Simba might have commented on the orange pony’s extremely peculiar accent. Now, he simply didn’t want to hear any more. He could never show his face in the Pride Lands again, no matter what these ponies said. They had no idea what he did, and they’d have left him to die if they knew. He stood up and started to walk away. “Just leave me alone.”

Fluttershy blocked his path again. “Please don’t go. You’ll die out there on your own.”

The warning should have filled Simba with fear, or perhaps arrogance befitting a child, as some think that they can face a hoard of hyenas and win. Instead, he felt nothing. He could not bring himself to care whether he died or not. He should’ve been the one to die in the first place, not his father. The cub’s stomach moaned for sustenance, but he ignored it and tried to move around Fluttershy, but without success.

“It sounds like you’re starving,” the winged pony said worriedly, “When was the last time you ate anything?”

It was before his father died. He had eaten a share of antelope with Nala. He nearly cried at the thought of what his best friend would think of him now. “I don’t know,” he lied, “Please let me go.”

“I’m sorry, but I can’t,” said Fluttershy. “We can’t let you go alone.”

“There ain’t no food or water out there,” Applejack pointed out.

“You’re lucky that Fluttershy saw the vultures circling you as it is,” said Rarity. “If you try to go out there by yourself, you’ll surely starve to death, or worse.”

Simba was growing tired of these bizarre ponies. Why couldn’t they just leave him alone? “Who asked you?” he snapped, “I don’t want your help, so leave me alone!” He started running toward the desert, away from the ponies and their strangeness. In the desert, he would surely die, but at least he would be alone, as he deserved. At least he would see his father again. He knew that his father couldn’t possibly love a murderer, but he still wanted to see him again. He wanted to hear his voice, even if it was to yell at him; to feel the weight of his mighty paw, not caring if he would be struck for the very first time. All he wanted was to see his father. If he had to die to do that, then so be it.

Rainbow Dash cut off his escape this time. “Are you even listening?” she demanded incredulously. “You’ll die out there!”

“I DON’T CARE!”

The ponies gasped. Satisfied at having stunned them into silence, Simba took off once more, using his aggression to give him focus. He’d made it clear that he didn’t want their help and that he didn’t care what happened to him. They had to leave him alone now. It was only sensible, after all. Why bother helping someone who didn’t want help?

Simba briefly saw a shadow loom over him and felt something grab him, pulling him into a hug. “Let me go!” he demanded, struggling to break free. He brought out his claws and scratched at his captor, but the pony, for he could see the bright fur on her legs, held onto him, adjusting her grip to stop the clawing.

Fluttershy, her voice easily recognized, began to shush him soothingly, rocking him back and forth. “You don’t mean that,” she said, “But even if you did, we care. We’re here for you.”

Simba sorely missed the feeling of a warm embrace, as much as he would deny it. Fluttershy’s presence was reassuring, reminding him so much of his family. Deep down, he wanted this, to be told that everything would be alright while he cried his eyes out. Instead, he continued to struggle. “Stop it!” he protested, “You’re not my mom!”

“But you need help,” she replied, holding him all the while, “And we’re not going to let you die, because we care about you.”

Simba’s struggling diminished and he felt tired. “You don’t even know me,” he moaned in defeat, “You don’t know what I did.”

“No matter what you did, you should never stop caring.”

Simba felt tears hit his cheeks. Why was Fluttershy crying? Before he could ponder this, he felt more pairs of forelegs wrap around him. Why did they all care so much, even after he did everything to make them leave? He found himself longing for comfort, but still felt that he shouldn’t even get it from his family, much less a group of strangers. Desperately, he fought back his own tears. “I… I did something terrible,” he whispered, torn between what he wanted and what he thought he deserved. Would they leave him now?

Applejack was the first to answer. “Even if ya did somethin’ bad, yer family’ll still forgive ya.”

Simba hid his face in Fluttershy’s chest, Uncle Scar’s words echoing in his mind. “No, they won’t.”

“Of course they will.” It was Rarity who spoke this time. “They love you, and forgiveness is an important part of love.”

Simba shook his head, not trusting himself to speak. What would his mother think? Why would she still love him if she knew what he’d done? He felt more tears on his cheeks, but soon realized that these were his own. He sniffled, trying not to cry, only to feel Fluttershy’s hoof gently stroke his back.

“It’s okay,” she soothed, “You can cry if you want to.”

With those words, Simba’s resolve shattered. Beneath the desert sun, embraced by six ponies, the king wept.

Author's Note

Yes, I know lions are color-blind in real life, but I needed a way to separately describe the ponies from Simba’s point of view. Plus, lions can’t talk in reality, either, so this ought to be acceptable.

Simba has a long, hard road ahead of him. The poor kid is very traumatized and suffers from serious self-loathing brought on by survivor’s guilt and Scar’s lies. While Timon and Pumbaa made him suppress the past in canon, the Mane Six will be actively invested in his recovery and reuniting him with his family.