The Lion King

Chapter 3 - Uncle Scar

Chapter 3

On the far side of Pride Rock, in a cave enveloped in shadow, a figure moved slowly through the darkness. His pawsteps were heavy, his shoulders slumped forward miserably, and his face, darkened by a deep and bitter scowl, was as dark and brooding as his mood.

As the figure wandered closer to the edge of the cave, he caught sight of a bone lying at the edge of the precipice. A snarl rumbled deep in his throat, and in one furious motion, he kicked the bone aside so that it spiraled chaotically into the dirt below. Satisfied, the figure turned and continued slithering through the shadows. If only that bone had been the remnants of a certain princeling cub.

A noise sounded from around the corner, and the figure paused, his ears cocked forward.

"Hey, Uncle Scar, guess what?"

That voice. Oh, that voice. He'd know it anywhere.

Scar turned, his face downcast, and glared fiercely at his nephew, a cub with a smile even bigger than he was, golden fur gleaming in the sunlight. Oh, how he wished he could swipe that smile away. Refusing even to keep the snarl out of his voice, he growled in answer, "I despise guessing games."

Simba bounded forward, oblivious to his uncle's scorn, and looked up at Scar with a smirk even bigger than his smile.

"I'm gonna be king of Pride Rock!" he boasted, puffing out his chest fur proudly.

As Scar glared down at him, scowling, something on the edge of the cub's vision caught his eye, and he bounded eagerly toward the edge of the rock face, where the Pride Lands stretched out before him in all their majesty. He stared out over the land, marveling.

Scar watched him go, his scowl deepening.

"Oh, goodie," he said.

"My dad just showed me the whole kingdom," Simba continued, his eyes sweeping the Pride Lands one last time before he glanced back at Scar. "And I'm gonna rule it all, heh, heh!"

Scar glared at the cub with undisguised disdain. How could Simba possibly be doing this obliviously? He must be doing it on purpose. He must.

"Yes," the dark lion said slowly, straining to keep the growl from his voice. "Well, forgive me for not leaping for joy. Bad back, you know."

Sniffing, he turned away from Simba and fell heavily onto his side, the rocks digging painfully into his thick pelt. He ignored them.

"Hey, Uncle Scar!" Simba bounded away from the edge of the cave and jumped up on his uncle's limp form. "When I'm king, what will that make you?"

"A monkey's uncle," Scar replied, almost instantly.

At this, Simba laughed and rolled off his perch.

"You're so weird!" he exclaimed.

Slowly, Scar lifted his head, the resentment in his eyes sagging into mere annoyance. Perhaps this interaction wasn't a waste after all. Perhaps it was...opportunity. Yes, the wheels in Scar's head were beginning to turn. Already, he could see the future, the outcome of this conversation, the disaster it would lead to. The lion almost laughed aloud. It was perfect.

"You have no idea," he purred. Struggling to sound uncaring, he rose to his paws and asked, "So, your father showed you the whole kingdom, did he?"

Simba lurched to his paws and scampered quickly after his uncle.

"Everything!" he answered in a puff.

"He didn't show you what's beyond that rise at the northern border...?" Scar raised his eyebrows pointedly.

Take the bait, take the bait...

Simba's face fell, and he plopped down on the cold stone floor of the enclave, shoulders sagging forward.

"Well, no," he admitted. "He said I can't go there."

Yes!

Scar struggled to sound sincere as he bellowed, "And he's absolutely right! It's far too dangerous! Only the bravest lions go there." He turned his face away to hide his smile.

Sure enough, Simba pricked his ears and skittered to his paws.

"Well, I'm brave!" he protested. "What's out th-"

"No, I'm sorry, Simba," Scar interrupted, this time unable to hide his grin. "I just can't tell you."

Simba bounded up to his uncle, indignant.

"Why not?" he whined.

Scar gazed down at his nephew, cooing, "Simba, Simba, I'm only looking out for the well-being of my favorite nephew."

With a forced smile, he laid a velvet paw overtop of the cub's furry head.

"Yeah, right," Simba muttered, peering out from underneath his uncle's huge pad. "I'm your only nephew!"

"All the more reason to be protective!" Scar shot back, raising an extended claw into the air. "An elephant graveyard is no place for a young prince." The moment the words were out of his mouth, he slapped a paw over his lips. "Oops!"

Simba's eyes grew to the size of small moons. His tail shot up, the fur on his neck rose, and he nearly shrieked, "An elephant what?!" He stared back at the Pride Lands, shining so temptingly in the distance. Beyond the grass, beyond the hills, beyond the rivers...an elephant graveyard? "Whoa!"

"Oh, dear, I've said too much!" Scar's voice dripped with dramatic flair, though the cub failed to pick up on this as Scar had known he would. "Well, I suppose you'd have found out sooner or later." He smiled down at Simba, who was beginning to inch slowly away from him. "You being so clever and all." As the cub reached out with one paw to scamper away, Scar drew him into a tight embrace. "Oh, just do me one favor," he cooed, taking special care to squash the cub's head against his side. "Promise me you'll never visit that dreadful place!"

Simba's eyes darted to the land stretched out before him and then back up to his uncle's expectant face.

"No problem," he answered smoothly.

Scar smiled.

Well played, young prince, he thought, but what he said out loud was, "That's a good lad."

Satisfied by his uncle's words, Simba squeezed out of Scar's iron grip, his eyes already fixed on the waiting Pride Lands.

"You run along now and have fun," Scar called out after him as he lightly nudged the cub forward. "And remember..."

Simba paused in his escape and looked impatiently over his shoulder.

"It's our little secret."

The cub nodded swiftly and then scurried out of the cave.

With a chuckle, Scar turned away and walked deeper into the shadows. Now in search of some lunch.