The dark lion known as Scar was having a rather frustrating morning, not only had he been awoken far too early for his taste, and he could feel that this day would be equally miserable as his abrupt awakening. As if on script Zazu landed close to him. “Mufasa wishes to talk to you...[i]sire[/i]” the bird reluctantly gave him the respect that his position demanded. Scar sighed. “What is it [i]this [/i]time?” Usually the majordomo had an answer to that question, but he could not give one this time. It seemed that Mufasa wanted to have a private conversation with his brother. “You can find out once you go to him.” The lion made a face “[i]Lovely…[/i]” he sarcastically replied, was it too much to hope this was a nightmare? Hopefully Mufasa hadn’t caught onto anything incriminating, the plan was almost ready. Soon...so very soon would he finally get revenge on the king. He left his cozy spot and prepared to act well towards the lion he despised so much. Zazu gave him the location and he was familiar enough with it. A rocky terrain just a short walk away from priderock. For some reason, Mufasa always enjoyed looking out towards the horizon. But Scar saw it more as him always looking down on everyone else. At the cliffs, Mufasa was indeed looking out to the stretch of land in the distance. He called his brother over for a conversation that was meant for their ears alone. Everyone knew that he and his brother were not on the best of terms, but with the arrival of Simba, the king wanted to finally talk to his brother and attempt to ease the gap between them. For the longest time the king had always just thought his brother was keeping a distance due to jealousy, but given the amount of time Scar had maintained that distance Mufasa finally figured it had to go beyond just that. Once Simba was born, Mufasa showed him the utmost love and care. But one day it just sort of clicked that he never showed this much attention to his other family member. He could remember a time when they were practically twins. But now they were the farthest apart they could possibly be. He wanted to remedy this, not only to ease the new guilt in his heart, but he also had hope that Scar would take a place in Simba’s life as well. He heard the approaching footsteps and turned around, doing his best to look warm and friendly. It was a contrast to the many times he approached his brother after hearing of his latest scheme or mishap. “Ah, brother. You have arrived,” Mufasa said, giving the other lion a smile. Scar was immediately put on guard by Mufasa’s tone, he could not remember the last time that Mufasa had used that friendly tone with him and it made him suspicious. “Yes…” Scar responded. “Zazu gave me quite the...wakeup call.” He heard his brother chuckle. Once that chuckle would have warmed his heart, but nowadays it only made it colder. “He certainly has a...way of doing things,” the golden lion agreed. “But I am glad to see you, there is something I think we should finally talk about.” Scar gulped. Before it was just a possibility, but now he was almost sure that his brother found out about his carefully crafted plan. Was this a confrontation? His friendly demeanor nothing more than a ruse? But...where were the lionesses? The ones who would surround him and prevent any escape? Scar kept his cool, but was ready to pull a desperate move if he needed to. “Who are you looking for, brother?” Mufasa asked curiously as Scar looked around. “Wondering where the lionesses who are to get a kick out of me being humiliated once more are hiding…” Scar said evenly as if it was a rational conclusion. “Brother...why would you think so?” Mufasa asked, now looking worried. Scar looked away “Not like it would be the [i]first [/i]time that you have lured me into such a trap under false pretences.” Mufasa sighed, was that who his brother thought he was? Acting nicely only to lull him into a sense of security to later exploit that vulnerability? “Scar… I just want to talk,” the king admitted. His brother still did not look convinced so he took a deep breath and spoke his piece. “I know the two of us are not the closest, but with the birth of Simba I’ve been reminded of how important family is…” Scar listened on as Mufasa went on a giant tirade about family and how they had fallen apart, as if he hadn’t been the root cause of their broken relationship Scar thought bitterly. The feeling spread inside him until he couldn’t stand it anymore. “How [i]DARE[/i] you!?” Scar snarled, taking Mufasa completely aback. “You think you can just say a few nice disingenuous words and it will all be okay?! It isn’t enough! And it [i]never [/i]will be!” Scar was so furious that he took a step forward and the baffled king instinctively took one back… There was a ledge behind the king, the one he had just been overlooking the area from. With Mufasa taking a step backwards he was on the very edge of that ledge and before anyone could react...it crumbled underneath the king’s feet, unable to carry his weight. One moment, Mufasa was backing away, the next he was falling backwards with a yowl and a thud followed just a moment later. Scar stood stunned for a moment. He dared to look down the cliff and saw that the fall was no more than a few feet. At most, his brother should have a few injuries that would heal in time. All the same, the dark lion figured he should help his brother back on his feet again…If only to escape his wrath after he shook off the pain. Scar lept down the cliff’s side and approached his brother. Mufasa was lying still and Scar just rolled his eyes, thinking that the king was being a cub about the short fall. “Are you alright?” Scar asked, with some vitriol still in his voice. But there was no response given. Any moment Scar expected his brother to groan and start to get up, but as the seconds passed and Mufasa remained completely unresponsive the dark lion carefully got closer, hopefully not into whatever trap the king had planned in revenge… However as Scar got close enough, he noticed that not only was Mufasa completely still but there was...blood! A small pool of it that was very slowly, but steadily expanding from the lying lion’s head. Now shuddering, Scar dared to approach the king, he prodded his still warm body with his paw but it was the body was limp, the only resistance was his weight. “C-come on...s-stop joking Mufasa...I-I am sorry I yelled.” Why...why wasn’t he breathing? Shakily Scar checked for a pulse, he had learned how to in case anyone tried to act dead to deceive him, but as he felt out for his brother’s...he couldn’t find any… Scar felt cold...icy cold. Moving his brother’s head he found it had landed on a pointed rock, the protrusion wasn’t by any means sharp...but...Mufasa had landed with his full body weight on it. The fall was so sudden...he hadn’t had time to catch himself… “Mufasa… Mufasa!” Scar said, his voice rising as he pushed his brother with both paws. But there was nothing in response. No voice, no pulse, no twitching of his body… The king was still and unresponsive… He was...dead... The conclusion made Scar’s world fall apart. "No no no no...you [i]cannot [/i]do this to me, Mufasa..!" Scar said to himself. His voice was rising with steadily heightening hysteria. The dark lion withdrew into himself as his world began falling apart. Everything up to this point, the plan he had so meticulously made, having a solution for every possible way it could fail...and [i]somehow [/i]his brother had managed to foil him by doing the one thing he [i]hadn't [/i]thought of. He had never considered his brother would die before he got to him, somewhere deep inside the dark lion's mind his brother had always seemed utterly indomitable. That is why he hadn't even considered the possibility he might just...die...Mufasa couldn't just [i]die[/i]! A group of lionesses heard the shouts of Scar as he called for his dead brother to wake up. But once they arrived on the scene, they were given the sight of the dead king and Scar beginning to chuckle, but his tone was utterly void of emotion and quickly devolved into sobbing. From the lionesses’ perspective, they saw it as the dark lion being in shock and grieving over his now deceased brother, but Scar was mourning something much deeper than that… To Scar it was like Mufasa had been created by the universe as nothing more than a force to make a fool of him. He had dominated their father's attention back when he had wanted it, he had effortlessly secured his place as the successor, he had earned his trust and then when he had needed him most had forsaken him and now he wouldn't even allow him to get [i]closure!? [/i] Hate...oh how Scar wanted to [i]HATE [/i]him...but he just couldn't anymore...he felt utterly burned out. Scar tapped out, he just couldn't conjure anymore defiance to rage against the unfairness of it all. All he could do was sob at the sheer absurdity and unfairness of it all as the word spread around the Pridelands, that King Mufasa was dead, of all things his cause of death was nothing more than an unlikely accident. [center]***[/center] It had been an entire month since that day and Scar still could not truly believe it. He somehow found himself in the baffling situation that his brother died in an accident before he could kill him in his trap and it felt like he was living in a nightmare. For so long Scar had planned to do away with his sibling and revel as he took everything that Mufasa had as a prize, but now it was just being handed to him as if out of pity… Mufasa was given a vigil and a burial that was attended by all. And with no one else to take his place, the throne was given, although reluctantly, to the dark lion. Even with his new power as king, Scar had no idea what to do with himself now. He felt empty...nothing stirred any of his emotions...until he met with his nephew in private. Simba had always in his eyes been a symbol and reminder of every wrong Mufasa had caused him, but as Scar sat down with the grieving cub he found himself surprised. “Do you miss him too, uncle?” Simba asked as he sniffled. “Whyever do you ask, nephew?” the dark lion responded, trying his best to act normal. “Because...you feel so sad and lost…” It was such a simple observation, but Simba had been the first to ever point it out and he did so worried...for [i]him[/i]. To Scar it was as if a tiny light in an endless darkness had been lit, and there was his nephew, hurt and lost, but still could look at him and ask...if he was okay... From that point onwards Scar could never look at Simba the same way again. He was no longer an annoying burden, but now something that kept him grounded, something that kept the new king from losing himself in his own emptiness. The cub kept close to him often and Scar’s heart opened up to him and him alone. The lionesses didn’t like him and only worked with him because they needed him and frankly...the feeling was mutual. Scar could honestly barely stand them, he did only what he needed to as king to secure their loyalty and to allow him to build up some political capital for when he moved the hyena out of the Outlands. "Damn you Mufasa...the only thing that kept me going was knowing I would get back at you...now...now what am I to do?" All of his many plans that he wanted to enact as king felt hollow as he carried them out, no matter the success Scar felt no jubilation. He hadn’t “earned” the crown like he had planned it, so it was no victory on his part, it had taken no effort, just blind luck...or misfortune depending how one looked at it He continued on, day by day, making sure that things went well at the very least for Simba’s sake. Yes, he was king, but the truth was that it was a temporary thing. The moment Simba was of the proper age, the kingdom would be given to the heir of the fallen ruler. That thought might once have enraged the dark lion, but now he didn’t mind the least...in fact, he felt nothing at all about it. If Scar was being completely honest with himself...nothing really mattered to him anymore. Being king...it wasn't all it was cracked up to be and his emotions were still smothered into a coma from what had happened as he had no outlet for the rage inside him. Ever since the crown was put on his head those feelings of anger and despair boiled within the king, dulling anything any other feeling within him. Eventually, Scar just gave up on feeling anything like joy or even peace of mind again. It was hopeless… But there was one thing left...[i]ONE[/i] thing that still mattered...“Uncle Scar!” With practiced ease Scar slid on an emotional mask for the benefit of his nephew. “Simba...good that you are here.” he carefully ruffled the cub’s head. Simba needed him, if nothing else...he wanted to do right by his nephew. Scar wanted to succeed just once...if only for Simba’s sake. The days went on, all feeling the same to the Pridelands’ king. Days turned to weeks, those weeks became months, and a few years went by. In all that time, Simba was by his side, getting older and bigger. Scar spent time with him when he wasn’t busy and relayed more to the lion when he was old enough, doing his best to prepare him for the weight of a kingdom that would soon be on his shoulders.