Song: "Our Solemn Hour” – Within TemptationTLK: The Demon Within
“Scar spent the next day huddled in his den, watching the clouds slowly move out to fill the sky. They boiled and churned overhead, occasionally throwing out lightening, but no drops of rain descended to end the deep thirst of the land – they seemed to be waiting for something, if such an emotion could be applied to them. As the sun sank towards the horizon, shadows growing long, Scar finally was forced from his hiding spot by the continued assaults of the hyena – ever clamoring in louder and louder voices for the food no one could find. They grumbled that he had broken his promise to them that they would never hunger again, and the King did not like the angry glints in their eyes. “Sarabi!” he yelled, turning his fear into ire and directing it at his brother’s widow, summoning her forth to heap the blame upon her head.
But the former Queen held her head high and made it clear that the only way to survive was in leaving Pride Rock and kingdom. “We’re not going anywhere,” Scar snapped, angry that she was as blind as the rest – did she not see the storm right above their heads? It had
to rain down soon! She knew as well as anyone that rain came mostly at night, and all they had to do was wait
for true night to descend – then their worries would be ended. That was the promise he had given Dwala: his deadline was nightfall. Sarabi, though, was tired of waiting, tired of hoping, and tired of Scar’s refusal to do anything constructive to help, and she knew that even if it did rain this night, that would not bring the game back, would not regrow the plants in an instant; only time would do that, and they did not have
time. So when Scar refused to let anyone leave, she knew it was in effect a death sentence, and said as much. He did not seem to care even then, and Sarabi lost her temper and dared to speak the name of the one Scar had forbidden to ever be mentioned.
“I am ten times the King Mufasa was!” the dark lion cried in fury, striking Sarabi with all his strength and sending her flying to sprawl several feet away. As he did, a mighty roar split the gloom, and a figure appeared, backlit by a lightning strike. Seeing a red mane and gold pelt, Scar immediately thought that his brother had returned from the dead at the sound of his name, and cowered before this ‘ghost’, begging for it to leave. But it was not the dead King, only his son – a son Scar had thought dead. Scar’s fear fled in the face of his rage, and he confronted the nephew with slyness, reviving the boy’s old guilt and pain. Hearing Simba say that he was to blame for Mufasa’s demise, the lionesses hesitated – even Sarabi, for she had been convinced it was Scar’s doing. It couldn’t have been Simba -- could it? While they stood frozen, Scar drove Simba off the tip of Pride Rock, where he clung to the very edge with his front paws, fire from lightning-started brush fires glowing madly below.
And there Scar made his biggest mistake: his arrogance blinded him to the fact that Simba was not his father, despite their apparently identical situations: Mufasa had been terribly injured and dying when Scar had ended him, but Simba was young and strong and healthy. Upon Scar’s admission of murder, Simba found the strength within himself that guilt had sapped and flung himself up and onto his uncle – and he held down the older lion, forcing him to reveal to all what he had done. As the King’s words filled the sudden silence, the hyenas broke ranks and attacked Simba, knowing that their fate was sealed, but they could at least kill the one who had brought everything down around their ears. The lionesses were quick to come to their Princes’s aid, and blood flew thick in the night. In the resulting chaos, Scar tried to slip away, but Simba spotted him, following hot on his heels in a maddened race up Pride Rock. Trapped at the very top, Scar tried to shift blame from himself to the hyenas, but Simba would have none of it. Unbeknownst to either animal, Shenzi, Banzai, and Ed had followed Simba to the top, willing to give aid to the doomed King, but upon hearing him betray them, they growled and backed off. Back down the trio went, Shenzi's cackling cries calling her pack, telling them to retreat and leave off their siege of the pride. They obeyed, running into the night to her side.
Far above, a monstrous battle between Scar and Simba ended with the young lion flinging his uncle off the top of the great stone mountain. The old King tumbled his way down the incline, bouncing off sharp rocks all the way, to finally lie in a pained heap at the foot of the edifice. As he pulled himself slowly to his feet, he realized he was surrounded by the hyena pack and by the fire. His greatest nightmare was coming true, and none of his slick words could forestay the execution they had planned. Bent on murder, the hyenas swarmed him as they had earlier done his nephew, biting and tearing. Blood flew, his screams searing the night sky as Shenzi latched onto his face. Her grip was weak and she quickly slid off him, but one fang briefly caught in the groove on his cheek, re-scoring the eye that had once felt the slash of a buffalo – and then the flames flowed over them. The hyenas burned, yelping and crying out in pain, and fled, looking like fiery comets against the horizon. Scar burned, too – burned as he ran, as the flames consumed him.
It felt like an eternity, but within seconds the flames guttered out, drowned by the torrents of rain that fell from the sky – the drought had broken. The dark lion lay panting, water pooling around his still form, and wisps of smoke curled from his blackened fur and mane. His bloody wounds, which otherwise would have proven fatal, had been cauterized by the heat, thought they pained him terribly. Shaking from shock and the throbbing of his burns and tears, the ousted King regained his feet. He stood for a long moment, then – water dripping from his muzzle, he raised a paw to touch his face. The deep pain in his face… the deep gash across one eye, his left eye… it was so familiar, and as his toes felt its new shape, he found his eyes drawn up to the night sky, seeking a star he had not looked upon in many a year. He still knew exactly where it was.
Behind him, a roar split the night as clouds cleared – Simba claiming his kingdom – and Scar felt a brief pang of rage at the sound, but it was quickly overwhelmed by a tide of memories. It was as if a shadowy veil had been lifted from his mind’s eye itself, and Scar could see again who and what he had once been, all those years ago. It came back in a great sweeping wave, washing over the present and all that had happened this night. He looked up at that star – his mother’s star, Uru’s star – his paw pressed against the scar in his face, and remembered
He had once been a lion who walked the path of goodness, or light, of honor. Once he had been spoken of with esteem, with love and pride. Now he was an object of fear, a nightmare that walked the earth – his name a synonym for evil and malice and cruelty and hate. His once shining self, smeared over with tar and the blackest of black. Scar had ruined himself, his reputation, his honor, his very soul. He had killed, murdered – he had let his hate and rage and jealousies rule him, just as he had long, long ago, when he was young, and a buffalo had marked his face for all of time with the scar that would become his namesake. Uru had warned him of that path, the dark path. He had seen where it led with his own eyes, when looking upon his father, Ahadi. He had seen. He had known. He had been warned. And he had walked that road anyway, and done so of his own free will. He had becomes his father, after all. After every promise to himself, he had become the very same monster as the one whom he had hated all his life.
So much that had been his, and he had not appreciated it. Now it was all gone. As gone as the greenness of the land he had been born to, the land his mother had wanted him to help protect and rule. He had failed everyone in his life, every single one – including himself.
And it was far too late to ever take it back.
With a body and soul and mind in agony, the dark lion limped away, heading for the line of hills and mountains to the east. Simba had told him to run away and never return, and for now, that was exactly what he would do. He did not know where his paws would take him, but it didn’t matter. There were only two choices available to him anymore, and the only other one was to go back and die at Simba’s feet. He had gone that way once, and seen where it ended; now he would choose the other. It was time now for the lonely path, the harder one, the one he had failed to take so many times throughout his life.
To let it go
I'm no good at drawing burned fur, so forgive me the inaccuracy of the picture
Anyway, this section is a tad rushed, but that is because I didn't want to just sit around repeating the script. That would have been boring. XP
Taka/Scar © Disney
Art and story © me.
Please do not copy, alter, trace, or reproduce in any way, shape, or form without written permission from me. Thank you.