dear.”

 

                “If you only visited Rafiki—”

 

                “The monkey can die in this blaze as far as I’m concerned.”

 

                “And if he does, your kingship will be even more doomed than it is now.”

 

                Scar pads away from his company, his head downcast in a look of sorrow and regret. “Doomed. You are right, Nala. I am doomed.”

 

                Nala feels a twinge of consideration for the king, thinking she has perhaps gotten through to him, but her conscience gets the best of her and she snaps back to reality. Scar’s words drip with apathy.

 

                He speaks again. “For you see, Nala, I am without a queen.”

 

                “Clearly.”

 

                The king’s head swivels to face her. “And that, I must say, is not the will of the land.”

 

                “Hm.”

 

                “Perhaps my focus since I assumed the throne has been a little… off.” He is pacing again.

 

                “Can’t disagree there.”

 

                Scar sees this as an opening. “So you agree?”

 

                More cries outside. “I think the fact that we’re having this conversation right now all but confirms that.”

 

                “Yes, indeed…” the old king glowers at the lioness – hungrily. She is perfection, he thinks. Every lustrous curve proves this. I must possess her.

 

                King Scar takes a step forward. “Then why not make this official, my dear?”

 

                Nala shoots him a bemused look. “…what? What do you mean?”

 

                “Oh, I think you know precisely what I mean,” rumbles Scar.

 

                The lioness is taken aback momentarily, still unsure of the king’s intentions. Shaking this off, she turns toward the mouth of the chamber. “Then come, we must find Rafiki. He can stop this. He can bring the rain.”

 

                Scar sighs languidly. “Still on about the monkey, are we? Let him die.”

 

                “Scar!” she roars, her face contorted into an expression of rage. “Come. Do you wish to right your wrongs or not? This can be fixed, if only you’d just listen!”

 

                “I could say the same of you.”

 

                The statement causes Nala to miss a beat yet again, before she shouts, “Regain your focus, Scar!”

 

                “Oh, but I have.”

 

                He leaps toward her.

 

                It is a combination of the darkness and being caught so off guard by his advances that causes Nala to be conquered quite quickly. Scar is on her almost instantly, pinning her down, a claw on his right paw unsheathed and pressed firmly against her neck. The lioness cries out, but her howls are muffled by the king’s other paw.

 

                “Why must we do things the hard way?” he whispers sinisterly, his muzzle not even a pawbreadth from her left ear. The lioness whimpers.

 

                “I have been patient,” he continues. “Oh, have I. Waiting for you this evening, my dear, has been oh-so-tempting.”

 

                Nala whispers something, but it is unintelligible against the rock floor and Scar’s paw.

 

                “My, how you’ve grown, Nala. You’ve grown into such a… nice lioness. A worthy prize for any lion, surely. Oh, too bad Simba’s not here to claim it…” He feels her body slacken under his at the mention of this name.

 

                “And I, well, I need a queen. Cubs. Immortality. Do you understand, Nala? Can you conceive what could be?” There is a maniacal look in his eye. “No king has ever assumed the throne in these lands without a queen. This must be the reason the Great Kings have been so adverse to my rule.”

 

                Since hearing Simba’s name, Nala has begun to sob. Scar feels her tears on both paws, along with another fluid substance on his right paw. He is pressing quite resolutely into her neck; he knows what it must be.

 

                “Sarabi is too old, and I would never take a female after my brother,” he growls. “But… who should appear this evening but you...”

 

                Voices outside.

 

                His voice is a whisper. “We all know full-well that no male lion resides in this pride, save for me. Think of it, Nala – you need me just as I need you. It is as though the Great Kings fated our union.” He relieves the pressure on her neck. “A union which we shall now consummate.”

 

                “Not now, you won’t!” cries a voice all-too-familiar to both lions.

 

                The blue hornbill soars at the king, talons outstretched. Scar is so occupied, so focused that he never sees Zazu coming until it is too late. The bird rakes at the king’s faces, causing him to roar in pain. His grip relaxes, and the young lioness skirts from underneath his massive body, rolling away, her breath heavy.

 

                The lioness known as Sarafina is close behind Zazu, with her the fury of a thousand kings. King Scar cannot react quickly enough, his face twisted in pain as blood pours from above his eyes, his black mane matted in clumps from blood and dirt. Claws meet chest, and the two lions are sent sprawling, the king landing on his back, Sarafina atop him, a crazed look in her eye.

 

                “Nala! Are you okay?” Zazu calls from the air, still facing Scar. She murmurs a reply which he cannot comprehend, and the hornbill moves to tend to her while Sarafina has Scar in submission. Luckily, other lionesses have heard the disturbance and join as well.

 

                “Insolent fools,” snarls King Scar. “You will pay dearly for this.”

 

                “We’ll all pay dearly no matter what if you don’t leave soon,” announces Sarabi from the mouth of the chamber.

 

                “If I have not been clear, the monkey can die for all I

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