It was a quiet morning in the savannah, it had already been a week since the rightful king of Pride Rock returned and took down the traitorous Scar. Light shining into Pride Rock, the room slowly brightens up as a grumble was heard from a dark brown lion, his black mane a bit of a mess as he slowly opened his eyes. Many had believed Simba would’ve put an end to Scar then and there, but despite everyone’s worries and concerns, Scar still lived among them, as reluctant as some may have been. Scar sat up slowly and gave a begrudged look at the wall the light was coming through, a bit of tiredness still filled his eyes. “What’s it been, a week?” He muttered a little, a hint of expectation and uncertainty laced his voice, as he himself was also quite surprised that his nephew had gone so far as to spare him, and even given his own living space left unguarded. He looked at the door in silence, many times in the last few days he had contemplated taking it as a sign and departing, but usually the idea of a hoard of angry hyena’s waiting for him didn’t exactly sound appealing, so he bided his time in silence. “What’s he planning, anyways…” Scar mumbled silently as he stood up from his bed, and adjusted the loincloth around his waist, and went to look out over the pridelands, seeing things have slowly but surely started returning to normal.


He couldn’t help but sneer a bit briefly, before letting out a sigh, well aware that the things he did had led to its decline in the first place. However, pride wasn’t going to let him openly admit such as he pulled himself away from it and started returning to his bed, not having much else he could do without going out and facing the looks of anger, resentment or whatever may come from the other members of the pride. Sitting down, the sound of footsteps were almost a blessing, or a curse, as he glanced ever so slightly at the door leading out of his own chamber. To his surprise, however, nobody entered, but instead there was a knock that filled the air. ‘Peculiar…’ he thought to himself, but didn’t leave whoever was waiting for long. “Come in, it’s open.” He leaned back, resting both laws behind his head and crossing one leg over the other, relaxing as he didn’t particularly intend to stand and give whoever it was any form of respect. Simba made his way in, his arms crossed as he stood in the entryway, wearing a similar loincloth, with a pelt of fur slung across his shoulder as well. The light brown lion shook his head slightly, moving some strands of his orange mane out of his eyes. “Good morning, uncle. I see you’ve already gotten yourself ready for the day.” Simba spoke, making small talk as he looked around, scanning his uncle and the room. Scar noticed the surveying eyes and couldn’t help but roll his eyes slightly, more out of amusement rather than frustration as he did.


“Good morning, my dear nephew.” His voice was sly, having that same devious attempt at charm that was laced with a smoothness that would try and manipulate anyone’s outlook on the lion. “I see you’ve finally decided to come and grace me with your presence, but what for?” He moved his arms forward again and leaned against his own knees, glancing over at him curiously as an eye raised in intrigue. Simba listened, but didn’t seem swayed by his manner of speaking, remaining surprisingly stoic despite it all. Shaking his head, he glanced back as if checking to see if someone had followed and nodded, approaching Scar. “There’s been plenty of time for the dust to settle, and I’ve come to invite you to join me out in the savannah. I was going to go alone and see how things are faring, but Nala and I figured it might do some good for you to join me. Of course, it is your choice.” Scar was surprised by his nephew's words, hearing he had the choice to decline if he so wished, which only made it all the more suspicious to the older lion. He raised an eye and looked Simba over, expecting something out of this as he did.


“Excuse me for asking, but is there a catch?” Scar asked bluntly, his smooth talking demeanor slipping slightly when he did, sitting up a bit more when he asked the question, but nothing about how Simba presented himself gave anything away. The king shook his head when he processed what he had been asked. “No catch, in particular. It just might be a good idea for us to see the pride returning to normal, and a chance to finally talk about… well, everything.” Simba explained in no prolonged way, getting to the point. Scar still seemed rather skeptical of what was being asked of him, but he stood up slowly. Simba managed a slight smile seeing him do so, motioning the older lion along and turning towards the door without another word. “If I do follow, am I assured nothing will happen to me? Be it here, or by those… savages?” Scar had a bit of a venomous response to seeing himself being motioned along, Simba catching what he meant almost immediately, shaking his head.


“Believe it or not, the pride is… mostly okay with what we’ve decided. You’ll get some looks but there’s no reason to hide yourself away.” Simba explained, a somber look on his face as it dawned on him that Scar may actually be worried about being kept around, but he decided to save it for now. “As for your other problem, we haven’t actually seen them since everything happened. And if I’m around I’d be surprised if they did try anything. Is that good enough?” Simba asked, the question was upfront but surprisingly kind in Scar’s eyes, seeing his nephew going to lengths just to make him of all people feel comfortable or welcome. Scar contemplated the idea briefly before letting out a slightly dramatic sigh and nodding. “I suppose since you’re willing to go to such lengths, I’ll join you.” He accepted rather easily, despite everything, Simba beaming proudly ever so slightly when he heard that before he nodded and began walking.


Scar would follow along, noticing that Simba had a bow and some arrows attached to his back as they departed from the room, which raised a question. “Never took you for the hunting type, if I’m being honest. Thought you’d go for something more… authoritative, like a club.” His voice lowered a bit as they saw various members of the pride busy at work, going to and from different areas of pride rock, but he was vocal enough that Simba could make out what was being said. Simba chuckled a little hearing that, a bit amused at his uncle's observation as he led them out of the entrance and towards the Savannah below. “I had considered it, actually. My father was fond of such weaponry, I remember. But Nala and Timon think this is more suited for my style, so I’ve been giving it a try.” He explained, Scar listening closely, surprising both himself and Simba with his intrigue in at least holding a conversation as they walked. Scar looked around as they finally departed from their rock home and saw trees had miraculously already begun to bloom once again, a sigh escaping his mouth when he saw it.


“Things changed rather quickly. Rafiki believes there’s some other force behind it.” Simba answered the unasked question, knowing that Scar had caught that fact almost immediately, wanting to explain it to him. “It’s by some stroke of luck that we were able to get things in order once again.” Simba continued his explanation, but would notice Scar’s steps had grown slower, the dark brown lion watching with an unchanged look, but his eyes betrayed him, showing a bit of sadness behind them, but it was apparent to Simba that Scar wouldn’t open up about it, at least right now. “Stroke of luck, huh…?” Scar said before he even realized Simba had gotten further ahead, picking up the pace slightly to get behind him once again. “So I take it that everyone has also been able to find food, at least to some extent?” Scar asked, but now that the thought crossed his mind he had begun to realize the meals left for him had been generous, and surprisingly well done, leaving him a bit conflicted as they would approach a young tree near the center of the Savannah. Simba stopped before it, undoing his bow and setting it down along with the quiver of arrows, leaning them against a flat, decently sized rock.


“Indeed. I’m not one to question it, especially if it were the will of my father, or something else. But I can only say we were lucky. And that’s part of why I wanted to bring you out here.” Simba remarked, finally leading into what he really wanted Scar to join him for. Scar noticed him set his stuff aside and crossed his arms, looking Simba in the eye this time, as if silently urging him to continue explaining himself. “Tell me, Scar…” Simba sighed as he turned to face him again, and walked closer to the lion. “What do you feel about everything that happened?” He ripped the bandaid clean off with that question, Scar’s arms relaxing at his side once more as his gaze faltered, shifting towards the ground beside him when he was asked that. His paws flexed, clenched, balled up and went back to normal, almost like a pattern as he nervously twitched them, his tail swaying gently. “What… Do you mean?” He knew what Simba meant, neither of them were that naive or stupid to think otherwise, but something deep down yelled at Scar, it wanted clarity, even if on the surface level he did indeed know what he meant.


Simba took a seat on the rock and pat the spot beside him, showing Scar he wanted him to join him. The younger lion put his paw behind him and leaned back, looking at the clear blue sky above them as Scar froze in place for a moment, still lost in thought. Simba wasn’t going to rush him, and let Scar do as he must until he was ready. That wouldn’t take long, much to the surprise of Simba, as Scar slowly trudged towards the younger male, his feet practically dragging through the dirt as he started to lower himself to sit on the rock. “What I mean, uncle, is…” Simba paused for a moment, wanting to say this as delicately, yet forcefully as needed. “Do you realize why things worked the way they did? Why the pride nearly died off under you? Are there any feelings about that?” He asked him, turning his attention to the forlorn lion beside him, Scar leaning forward as his arms rested on his legs, unable to turn his attention to the nephew who was giving him a chance, for some unknown reason.


“That life and fate have a really twisted sense of humor.” Scar muttered out, but his tone showed he didn’t even believe his own words, his teeth gritting as he internally berated himself for such a comment. Simba nodded slowly, surprisingly unfazed by the way he spoke for the time being as he turned his attention to the sky once more. “And… Why do you think I stopped the hyena’s? Why I stopped everyone from doing anything?” Simba continued regardless, Scar physically tending up when he heard that question, something neither of them had anticipated from the other at that moment. Scar couldn’t help but find himself looking up at the same sky Simba was, a part of him just hoping it held the answer Simba wanted, but that was wishful thinking.


“You have that same, yet somehow stronger, naive optimism your father had. That much I can say for sure.” Scar finally said, his voice raising above a whisper for the first time since leaving his room. His face was devoid of any real emotion, it was unreadable almost. But his words hinted at a feeling much deeper than that. “Tell me, Simba. What made you spare my life? I ruined everything for you. Your life, your home, killed your father… and yet…” he froze, his words cut short when Simba raised his paw and rested it on Scar’s shoulder, the lion tensing up having expected something a lot more severe, a punch, a slash, something, but he was shocked it never came. Simba didn’t know what to say immediately, before he nodded. “Guidance, both from my own instincts, and the kings of the past.” He finally spoke up, which caught Scar by surprise. Before Scar could comment, however, Simba continued. “Someone once told me ‘whenever you feel alone, just remember those kings will always be there to guide you… and so will I.’… and…” Simba chuckled a little, realizing where this was even going.


“And…?” Scar parroted, unsure of where this was going. Simba shook his head a bit before he chuckled once more. “Well, maybe you’re correct about naive optimism, but during our confrontation, those words rang through my head endlessly. Father told me that, and… I wanted to reach out to you, a soul feeling alone, why else would you do all that, after all?” Those words struck Scar, the lion quickly standing and taking a few steps away from his nephew as he looked at the ground, his paws balled into fists as he thought about that, but only seconds later he found himself relaxing, but he couldn’t face Simba. The king stood up, ready to follow him, but Scar could only keep his distance. “I’d… prefer to be left alone. If his majesty would be so kind.” His voice didn’t have that same venom it had before, it didn’t have any sarcasm, or even anger. His voice was caught in his throat mostly, and there was a lot of uncertainty hanging overhead. Simba understood that, however, and sighed as he nodded his head.


“I’ll return to the pride for now, if you wish to be alone. Since you’re unsure about the hyenas, I’ll leave you my bow for now.” Simba moved them to be sitting on the rock, before he gave a nod and started walking away. “Just… consider what I’ve said, and find me when you’re ready to talk again.” Simba extended the offer, before departing and leaving his uncle to linger on it. Scar listened to the footsteps departing, leaving him alone with nothing but his thoughts, and a weight resting heavy on his heart. He glanced over at the bow with a sad sigh, walking over to the rock and taking a seat, leaning forward as he rested his head in his paws, his eyes covered as he grunted in frustration. “The hell does he mean by that…? I only did it over some lonely feeling? Me?!” He remarked verbally, knowing he was alone, or so he thought for the moment. Scar felt a couple of tears reach his eyes as he sneered, quickly wiping them away when he did. “Who does he think he is…?”


“Your family, if I’d have to guess.” A voice spoke, catching Scar by surprise as he looked around. A faint chuckle could be heard from above as the voice spoke again. “Have you truly forgotten who you are, my boy?” Scar looked towards the tree, noticing a mandrill sitting upon its branches holding a staff. “Y-you… why’d you follow us?!” He quickly turned to hide his tear-filled eyes, but he wasn’t doing such a good job.


“I follow the king. Even if sometimes he may not ask, I keep an ear tuned for everything. That’s the job of Old Rafiki.” He smiled a bit as he leapt down from the tree, getting a good look at Scar. “Hard to believe how you’ve changed, and grown.” Rafiki commented, going around to look Scar in the eye, but his look dropped, seeing the tears. Scar grunted at that, turning aside it didn’t have it in him to turn away completely. “What of it? Are you here to mock me or give me looks as well? I know you were my brother's little servant after all.”


“Title means little, when it comes to understanding one's plight, one's motivations.” Rafiki explained to Scar, his tone playful, yet oddly guiding as Rafiki noticed the bow left for Scar. “Simba seems to trust you quite a bit, leaving a weapon for you, despite everything.” He implored for Scar to open up a bit, but the lion wasn’t quite sure what he was getting at. “I don’t follow.” Scar put it bluntly, finally looking at Rafiki properly, seeing him head towards the rock.


“You don’t think it’s odd? That Simba left his only weapon here to return home?” Rafiki offered a smile with his words, seeing Scar seem to begin understanding. “I don’t understand him, first he returns, and tries to outmatch me. And when he gets the chance, he doesn’t even finish the job.” Scar reflected on his loss, and how close he was to losing his life at the hands of the hyena’s, yet he moves along to avoid lingering too much. “And now he drags me out here for quick words, and leaves me with a weapon. Despite everything I’ve done…” he sighed as he said that last part. He started that tangent trying to show how unforgivable he was, but he felt more unsure the longer he spoke, sitting down in the rock and slouching some with sigh, trying to make any sense of it.


“The king trusts you.” Rafiki made his opinion loud and clear, no minced words or anything more as he stood idly by, letting the lion have his space despite it all, but did keep an eye on him curiously. Scar’s look said enough, he was conflicted and unsure of why. “Listen, Taka…” Rafiki called him by name, a name he had long forgotten, but it still meant something to him. Rafiki looked at him, no ill-intent to be bad as he leaned on his staff. “You linger far too much on the past, things already done. You don’t focus on what happens now.” He began speaking, his words full of wisdom, a guiding sense for him. Scar looked at him, making eye contact in an attempt to see what he meant. “How can I? There’s so much about back then, that…” Scar began to explain, but found himself at a loss for words, Rafiki taking that as a cue and raising his hand. 


“The past is the past, truly. And it can hurt, it’ll sting. It will linger forever.” Rafiki finally sat beside him, and leaned forward to look him in the eyes, giving Scar a smile, a friendly look to help him. “You can either learn from it, or run from it. But that’s a choice you must make. Simba can’t make you choose, but he tries to at least help.” Rafiki told him, nodding gently as he began to stand up once he said his peace. Scar looked at the ground below him and took a slow, silent breath, not looking towards the mandrill as he began departing. “I’ll leave you with that, I know you requested space so I’ll let you be. But consider it.” Rafiki explained, before leaving it at that and heading back towards pride rock as well. Scar sighed, resting his paw on the bow before he finally gripped it and standing up, his mind racing as he knew what he needed to do.


-


Simba stood at the peak of pride rock, and looked out at everyone. A couple of hours had passed since Simba had left Scar be, neither of them having heard a word since. Nala, relaxing nearby as she sat by his side, spoke up. “Do you think he’ll actually hear you? Or do you think he’ll finally use this as a means to leave? He stuck around longer than I had anticipated if we’re being honest.” Nala spoke, her eyes locked on the Savannah, Simba taking a moment to let the question sit, not sure what he even wanted to say in the matter. “I suppose we will see. I know he’s worried about being welcome anywhere at this point, since he either comes here and has to face everything he’s done, or he can return to the elephant graveyard and face the hyena hoard. I doubt he’s willing to go to that length, however. A lawless land it is.” He lowered himself to sit with Nala, leaning a bit to rest against her and kiss her cheek, keeping himself focused on his pride.


Their focus would quickly be grabbed as a small bit of commotion was heard nearby, down by the entrance of the pride. Simba and Nala exchanged looks before the king stood and began making his way down towards the growing crowd. “Wonder what’s got everyone so excited.” He muttered a bit as he descended from his place above and approached the crowd. Near the front of the crowd, Scar returned, dragging a makeshift bag of various foods from the Savannah, having made the bag from the leaves of trees nearby. Simba was surprised to see it, Scar carefully setting it down and offering it to the pride members, a few of them going to retrieve the bag and take it where it can be properly prepared. Mutters and whispers filled the area as Scar watched Simba approach. “Welcome back, uncle. What’s all this about?” He asked, watching as Scar took the bow from his own back and extended it to Simba, who took it without issue.


“I…” Scar sighed as he started walking, motioning him to follow, but his look showed it was more of a question instead of actually urging the king. Simba smiled a little and began walking with him. “I just needed some time to clear my head, is all. I appreciate you leaving your bow for me.” Scar expressed his gratitude quite openly, but he kept his face forward as they made their way into pride rock. “Well I didn’t want to leave you unarmed, even if you wished to be alone. But I wasn’t expecting you to actually take it for a go, not that I’m complaining.” Simba chuckled softly, seeing the people who witnessed it actually looking at Scar with either mixed looks of being impressed, or surprised, but nothing ill-meaning for the moment. Simba noticed Scar was heading towards the king's chamber, but he remained quiet for now as he wanted to see where this would go.


“I felt it was appropriate, an offering of sorts. Both to take eyes off us for now and to show I wasn’t just out there for my own health.” He entered the king's chamber, the biggest room of the pride, spacious and even carved out in a way that made sure it was mostly sound proof, something Scar knew. “But that’s not what I wished to discuss… if you have the time to hear me out, that is.” Scar was still struggling with a nicer approach, having to correct himself almost once per sentence, but Simba saw there was good intention. “Of course. Nala can handle whatever happens for now, let’s talk.” He smiled at his uncle, heading towards his own bed and taking a seat. Scar swallowed a bit when he saw that but nodded as he joined him, looking at the roof as he sat there.


“I… thought about what you said, and had time to reflect on it. I wasn’t expecting you to…” Scar paused, sighing when he realized he couldn’t quite say it. “Didn’t expect me to be so upfront?” Simba asked, Scar nodding a little when he heard Simba finish his thought. “I guess it’s just something that runs in the family. Wouldn’t you know a thing or two about that?” Simba asked, a bit of a playful smirk showing itself as Scar rolled his eyes.


“Very funny.” Scar shook his head, but put on a faint smile when the boy spoke, it was almost as if Scar was a different person, or at least changed. “I’ve made a lot of mistakes, and I’m still unsure why you even find it in you to give me a chance. But what you said resonated with me, for reasons I can’t even begin to explain.” Scar continued, bringing his gaze towards Simba finally. “But… I won’t run from it, like I have been. As much as that thought crossed my mind, I just can’t bring myself to run away, especially when you’ve opened your heart, even if it’s to someone as foolish as me.” Scar let his mind wander as he spoke, leaning forward a bit as he stared at the ground.


“All I can really ask of you, the only thing I feel appropriate to ask, is that you show me how to go forward, how to fix the mistakes I’ve made, and if not fix them, change from them and improve.” Scar’s words were sincere, a first to Simba, nothing sarcastic, or malicious. Scar seemed to really have put thought into it. The man continued, his look growing somber though. “I just… I want to understand this pain, make up for this guilt I’ve given myself, and… fix the damage I’ve done.” In that moment it had become quite clear, and Simba could only feel happiness about what he was hearing, a paw reaching over to rest on his shoulder. He took a deep breath, a sense of pride on his face as he spoke next. “I'm glad you’ve come to understand what I’ve wanted to get through to you. You… did a lot of terrible things, and forgiveness doesn’t come cheap, or easy. But it can be earned. And if it’s guilt you feel…” Simba paused for a second, Scar glancing over as if he had his own thoughts on such a thing. “Well, I can help with that, as best I can. Can’t say it’s easy being the younger one in this situation.” He tried to lighten the mood, but Scar seemed to get it.


“As foolish as it sounds, there may be some way. All things considered I request such a thing stay between us…” Scar felt his face burn a bit as he realized what he was about to ask of his nephew, but he had already come this far, but Simba’s seriousness, and compassionate look both seemed to help, as he could tell the king was taking this in stride and wanted to make it work. “When your father and I were younger, and we either had feelings of guilt… or even if we acted out, your grandfather had a way of handling both. And…” he grumbled softly as he muttered out that last part, looking away briefly, getting a raised eye from Simba before the king realized what he was getting at. “You mean how your father used to spank you and father?” He asked, right to the point as Scar’s eyes widened slightly, his paws coming to his face as he groaned. “Curse you Mufasa, you already told him?” It seemed more embarrassing over anything, but Simba couldn’t help chuckling a little at how he reacted. 


“Hey now, let’s not act like I was the perfect child or anything. I just happen to know how my father would handle it too…” Simba sheepishly admitted, which seemed to help Scar relax, but the man’s face remained red. “You’re correct, but it doesn’t make it any less embarrassing asking your nephew to… spank you.” He strained his voice ever sos lightly at that last part as he looked away, but Simba could tell that the fact he was even told this to begin with was proof enough that Scar trusted him, and that there was a sense of change growing deep inside, and he didn’t want to turn it away.


“If it’s what you feel will help, I’ll do it. And you have my word that such a thing will stay between us. I wouldn’t want you feeling you can’t have even that privacy.” Simba assured him as he spoke, agreeing to what Scar was asking. The only Lion nodded slowly, taking a deep breath as he kept the blush prominently across his face. Scar slowly stood up, Simba watching as Scar wrapped an arm around himself, clutching his own shoulder nervously, it was clear this was more than a simple punishment and moving on, Scar had a lot of conflicting emotions and wasn’t sure he was quite ready to vocalize them. Simba nodded slowly as Scar went to stand before him, shuffling in place a little, occasionally glancing back at the entrance to the room, before he nodded giving Simba a silent acknowledgment. “Are you sure about this?” Simba asked him, his voice softening as he sat up, waiting for Scar to answer and give him the chance to back away. Scar only nodded softly once asked, and gently raised his paw towards Simba, giving him full control. Simba nodded gently as he took it and moved Scar to his right, starting to guide him over his lap, Scar wiggling slightly at the feeling of being in such a position, but the wiggling wasn’t from frustration, or disagreement… he felt a weight lifting off him.


Simba adjusted the smaller lion a bit, noting how Scar was surprisingly not as tall or built up as he was, but it wasn’t going to change anything regardless as he wrapped his arm around the man’s waist, and resting the other paw against the man’s butt, which bent over was shown to be quite shapely, well rounded and even a bit on the plumper side, the cheeks squishing slightly under the loincloth as his face brightened another shade of red. Once Scar’s wiggling stopped, Simba took a breath before his paw left the man’s bottom. Scar closed his eyes nervously, a strange feeling of worry in his stomach as he kept his tail out of the way. He gasped softly when the first smack fell, it wasn’t that firm, surprisingly, only enough to get his attention, leaving only a faint tingle behind alongside a resounding clap. Simba had started it off simple and slow, wanting to make sure Scar was eased in. Another smack would follow, that one slightly more noticeable as Scar kicked softly, his chubby bottom jiggling around under it. Simba nodded slowly as he fell into a slow, rhythmic pattern. “Gh- ah-… ack.” The occasional sound of a grunt escaped from Scar with each smack, mostly drained by the slapping sound, but it was doing its job well.


Scar kept his eyes shut, but in doing so, each slap would show memories of what he had done, the lion already starting to tear up as the smacks continued to be a reminder of what led to this. Biting his lower lip, he started to squirm a little, but Simba could tell it wasn’t in any attempt to escape as his paw started moving between cheeks, having enough space for his paw to only really cover one at a time, resulting in an adorable bounce in turn. “Are you hanging in there, Scar?” Simba’s voice called out calmly, comfortingly as his paw continued its methodical landing against his upturned bottom, making sure each slap landed in a new spot to spread the sting evenly, which definitely got the man’s attention as he kicked with every smack. All he could manage was a small nod as his eyes opened a little, a couple of his tears finally coming free. Simba smiled a bit as he saw that before the smacks picked up in intensity again, now leaving behind a slight sting behind each one, Scar’s round bottom bouncing around with every smack against it.


Simba kept an eye on how the man reacted, making sure that things went smoothly. The desire to change made Simba happy to help, keeping a firm and steady rhythm as his paw smacked against the jiggling target across his knee. Scar’s reactions slowly grew in volume as he gasped out and let out a small whine after a few more, the sting finally making itself known against his backside, Simba’s hold on his waist being an odd comfort all things considered. A few smacks would follow before Simba stopped, resting a paw on his bottom with his thumb placed above the waistband of his loincloth. “Are you ready for me to move on, Scar?” He asked him softly, once again presenting the opportunity to let it end. Scar sniffled softly, from a mix of embarrassment as well as the sting prominently across his bottom, but gave a nod regardless, even adjusting himself a little as his lower half raised itself off his nephew's knee, giving Simba an easier means of doing so. The younger lion nodded softly as he slipped his thumb into the loincloth and brought it down, the man’s big, dark brown furred bottom jiggling out from the clothing as he did so, the cool air helping the sting a little as Scar blushed a deeper red.


Simba rubbed his paw against the man’s big bottom, patting it softly every so often seeing it bounce around some, giving Scar a moment to relax and compose himself. After a moment passed, Simba got back to it and his hand slapped down firmly, moving away and slapping another spot almost immediately. “Ack! Ow!” Scar was much more verbal now as the smacks made his bare cheeks wobble and shake some, the sting sinking in now that his layer of clothing had been taken down, leaving him bare to the world. The sound echoed off the walls, the king's paw slapping his bare bottom leaving a much more prominent sound behind, which only seemed to amuse Simba slightly, but he remained firm in his resolve. The smacks continued falling, Scar finding it harder to remain still as a whimper soon escaped his mouth, showing that the lesson was sinking in, a result both of them were happy to know, despite the present situation, Simba moved his paw away from the man’s waist and rubbed his back a little as he slapped from cheek to cheek, moving his paw up and down to keep the even pacing he had from the start, Scar glancing back as tears rolled down his face. He was surprised to be greeted with an understanding smile, Simba nodding at him.


Scar wasn’t sure how to feel or respond seeing such a look, but it felt nice knowing Simba wasn’t just angry, or firm, or whatever else he might have thought in the moment, but that there was a hope to guide him. Simba thought about it a bit as his hand landed, feeling the man’s chubby bottom squish against his paw every so often, wondering if it would do Scar good to go a step further. “How’re you holding up? Want me to finish?” Simba asked him, resting a paw against his undercurves before giving a mild slap to them, the man gasping out and letting out a sob from that one. Scar wiggled and looked at the ground, not sure what to say in response. “If you feel we need to continue, I have a brush, sitting by my things.” He remarked to get an idea. Scar nodded softly and pushed up a little, Simba taking the cue and letting him go, watching as Scar kept his sight down. Instead of redressing, the man turned and started for where Simba had said, not muttering a word as he did, his chubby butt bouncing slightly with each step. Simba watched and noticed him pick out the brush, walking back sheepishly as his tail nervously swayed behind him, soon enough standing before him one again.


Simba was surprised but smiled when Scar slowly reached out with the brush, giving it to him as a sign he was fine if Simba felt it needed to go further. The king gave a nod before taking it and helping him back over. “If you’re sure.” He nodded softly, and rubbed the cool wooden surface across his big behind, watching it smush down some around the brush, the older lion whining softly at the feeling and bracing for it. Simba watched him carefully still before he raised the brush and smacked it down firmly across one of his cheeks, watching it ripple and bounce before he raised it up and smacked the opposite cheek. “Ow! Ah!” Scar’s cries grew louder as that happened, bucking in place a bit as he grit his teeth, the tears already returning as Simba continued, smacking steadily in a circular pattern across his big bottom, like with his paw he wanted to ensure it was balanced out well. It wouldn’t be long before Simba would hear a soft, almost silent sob, a sign of an apologetic individual as he nodded softly, smacking a bit firmer in turn. “What’re you learning from this, uncle?” Simba spoke with a bit firmer of a tone, a tone quite similar to Mufasa’s as the brush landed, every other word was followed by a firmer smack of the brush, which made Scar howl and yowl in some stinging pain.


“I-I… AH!” He howled out louder as a smack to his undercurves landed, sobbing out but noticed it stopped there for the moment. “E-everything… e-e-everything I’ve done. How w-wr-… wrong it was.” He sobbed out again. “I’m sorry…” he managed to say, the sobs turning into proper crying as he managed to say it, his built up emotions finally breaking free as he lay limp across his nephew's lap, the sting well known against his bubbly bottom. Simba nodded as he started up slowly again. “And, tell me, what will we do going forward?” Simba made his point clear as each word was followed with a smack, firmer than before as a resounding smack echoed through the room each time, a reminder for Scar. Once again the smacks paused.


“F-fix i-I-iiiit!” He cried harder, showing he was learning the lesson they both had hoped, Scar unable to say it in enough words, but Simba was satisfied with the answer he got. Propping his knee a little higher, the brush began to work on the sit spots and lower parts of the man’s big bottom, which were mostly untouched at this point. Scar had lied there obediently and cried harder, not squirming, and his tail only slightly swaying around as a sign of the stinging impact against his wobbling cheeks. Simba nodded firmly hearing it, giving a final strike to the center of his bottom to end it, Scar howling and raising his head as he cried out, his bottom jiggling around before finally stopping, leaving the lion a well spanked, blubbering mess across his nephew's lap.


As it settled, Simba felt a tinge of sadness seeing Scar in such a way, knowing it was a needed lesson, but he could tell that they were genuine tears of years of suffering and sadness. Simba helped Scar off his lap and stood up, wrapping his arms around Scar. The older lion gripped the pelt around the king's shoulder and buried his face into it a little as he cried, shuffling in place in an attempt to cool off his chubby burning bottom. Simba rubbed his back softly but left his bottom untouched to make sure it stayed a reminder for now. “It’s okay Scar. I promise.” Simba assured him, he didn’t have to say anything, but something about this moment felt appropriate as he comforted him. Scar’s cries continued to echo through the room, the sounds of a lost soul finally finding any form of peace as he held onto Simba for the comfort he offered. Simba watched him momentarily, hearing the faint sound of apology seeping through as he comforted him.


“Are you going to be okay?” Simba finally asked, hearing the cries finally begin to fade. Scar looked aside as he let his head rest against his shoulder. “I… I think so.” Scar muttered, barely audible, but the way he leaned in more seemed to help affirm that point. “I… I just… Thank you, Simba. For giving me a chance.” Scar clearly had a lot to consider, slowly pulling away from the king and reaching down for his loincloth, sheepishly rubbing his plump bottom.


“I’d rather see you grow as a person, than to see you perish like some might’ve wanted. I just hope you’ll keep on this path.” He told him, a sternness coming to his voice as he told Scar such, watching as the man redressed his big backside slowly. Scar gave him a nod of understanding, turning towards the entrance, but stopping as he glanced over. “I’ll try. But… promise you’ll be there if I slip again?” He asked, he was hopeful, his eyes looking to Simba as if needing guidance he never had before. The king smiled a little and nodded, assuring him he’d do just that. “Thank you… Simba. I’m going to go and rest.” He finally stepped out, leaving Simba alone in his room as the lion looked out at a small opening that looked out at the land below.


“I’ll at least fix one thing, father. Please… watch him like you do me.” Simba asked, nobody in particular around to hear but he felt confident in his words either way. For now he left to return to his queen, to give the good news.