Author's Notes:

EDIT: Yeah, this is it... the beginning. :3 If you would like to know where I started from, this is it... there's no denying. If you want to read, then I'm not stopping you by any means... However, a note first. It may be but a year old, but this fic feels ancient and outdated. It's cliche around the edges and unsophisticated, but if you wade through that and the vague looseness of it all, then I guess it isn't half-bad if you want to burn an hour. ;o If you're looking for a suspenseful fic, however, I would more emphatically motion you towards my more recent projects: most notably, Trampled. But anyways, that's just me... keep going, keep going. :p

Well, this is my first fic, so here goes. This fic is going to be mostly alternating between Scar's point-of-view and Zazu's, and sometimes Simba's, though to be honest I don't like writing Simba quite as much. This will be after TLK 1, but will probably have major differences from the events of TLK 2, since I'm not sure how my story would really fit in between 1 and 2, mainly because Scar is still alive in this. This is more of an alternate storyline than an in-between story. Rated T for some violence, and possibly some minor suggestive themes.

Prologue

Things are not always as they seem.

As the climactic clash for the Pridelands came to a close, it may have seemed as if peace would now rule over the land, but this could not be farther from the truth. The scuffle for the throne, the struggle to revive the dying land, and the battle for revenge and reprisal had only just begun. Simba taking the throne was merely a single event, a single domino falling, in a long chain of events that had gone on since before Mufasa's death and would continue on. With no solution in sight, a dying Pridelands, and the ever-continuing threat of usurpation, the real battle has just been instigated.

Chapter 1: A Most Unpleasant Day

The sun in the Pridelands that day was hot. Dreadfully hot. The sun beat down on the plain, barren land, and what used to be called a savannah was now a huge parched piece of deserted waste. The ground was cracked and the few bare trees that remained were knotted and blackened by the constant heat and drought. There was no grass, no shade, and no protection from the uncomfortable heat. The fire that had burned recently around Pride Rock had only worsened the land's condition, and ash was mercilessly spread through the air to coat the ground like snow. Pieces of dry bark were strewn across the ground and signs of life were nowhere to be seen for a long ways around. It was here that Scar awoke.

The dark lion had felt the heat and blinked his eyes open. When his hazy vision had cleared somewhat, he glimpsed around him, only to find his surroundings somewhat foreign. Where was he: the Pridelands or the Outlands? The two looked very similar now, so he really could be anywhere. He began to feel tired and lightheaded, and nearly collapsed into unconsciousness again, but he tried his hardest to stay awake and regain his composure. He took a deep breath and tried to remember how he had gotten far away from Pride Rock and to the eerily silent heart of the wasteland he had once ruled over. He couldn't remember much, if anything at all. He closed his eyes and thought harder, waiting several seconds as he began to recall fragments of memories.

He remembered the fire. That was shortly before he lost consciousness, if he remembered correctly. It seemed like years ago, but it was only a few days ago, wasn't it? The flames leapt about in his mind as he recalled it. He then recalled that Simba, his bratty and arrogant nephew, had tossed him roughly from the cliff, and how the lionesses had taken his side. Of course everyone took Simba's side. He had always gotten his way, as he was the "rightful king". Scar rolled his eyes. Why couldn't he rule? Did anyone stop to think that maybe he deserved a chance? Of course not. Why did Simba have to come and ruin everything? Scar sat there fuming for a moment, but reminded himself that someday he would get his revenge if he ever again got the chance for it.

But that still didn't explain how he had ended up in his current boring and utterly depressing surroundings. What else did he remember? Scar thought harder for a moment, trying to pursue the memories which remained just out of grasp...

Hyenas.

His eyes opened and flashed angrily while he growled low in his throat. They had betrayed him after everything he had done. He had given them food when they were starving and let them stay in the Pridelands when they had little place else to go, and all he asked in return was a few astonishingly simple tasks they could not even do correctly or proficiently. He should have been angry with them for failing him over and over again, but he still let them stay with him… only to have them stab him in the back later over some small quibble. A nightmarish flashback began to play in the front of his mind. He could see the hyenas, surrounded and illuminated by fire. The hatred and maliciousness in the hyenas' eyes as they attacked him was enough to send shivers down his spine even now. Their glistening teeth had ripped into him, and they laughed with bloody muzzles, clearly taking pleasure from tearing him apart. Their manic laughter echoed off the rock walls, making a fearsome and blood-curdling noise amidst the chaos. Scar had tried to fight his way out of it, but there were simply too many of them. Hyenas were lunging viciously at him, trying to rip off any bits of flesh they could bite down on, even injuring each other in the process. Blood began to mat his silky dark coat as the hyenas became ever more zealous. Finally Scar could feel the life flowing out of his wounded body. A moment or so later he felt a rough blow land on the top of his head, and everything went black.

Then he had awoken in the middle of nowhere. Everything that had happened in between the hyenas' attack and Scar's relapse into consciousness remained a mystery. Scar looked around, trying to think of how he survived and how he had gotten here, but any logical conclusion or fleeting memory that would explain it had not come to him. Eventually he gave up for the time being.

He tried to shake off some of the ash that had settled on his russet coat and was surprised at how different he looked. There were claw marks on his belly and sides from where the hyenas had attacked him and some of the wounds were still bleeding fresh blood. His fur was sooty and dark from the ash and was matted and tangled as well as being wet with sweat. Small parts of his fur had been ripped off his skin as well. He looked hideous: only a part of his once handsome self. He laid his head down on the ground weakly and looked up at the sun, which was still shining its hot, dry waves onto the ground, which had become nearly sizzling with heat.

Scar looked up to see a solitary bird making its way across the sky. It was the only other life he had seen the whole time he had been here. It was small and looked somewhat familiar, and it slowly and surely began to circle him, going down, down, down…

"Scar!"

Whoops.

Scar looked up at the bird. It was Zazu. That, of course, could only mean trouble. His shining green eyes flashed with both anger and fear. He hated Zazu and wanted to murder him right there, but of course Zazu was flying too far above him. Zazu was Simba's confidant, his major-domo. Knowing Zazu, he would fly back immediately to tell the new king about Scar's survival after the attack by the hyenas, and Simba would, at the very least, exile him; if not simply kill him on the spot. If Zazu told Simba, which he would, he would either have to fight for his life against Simba only to lose or be exiled to the Outlands where the vengeful hyenas would tear him to pieces.

Scar didn't want to lose his life. There was still something left inside of him. He had a fighting chance at being king once again, didn't he?

"I'd better tell the king! Oh no, this isn't good! This isn't good at all! Wait until Simba hears…"

Zazu's voice faded as he flew off, leaving Scar alone. He began to sweat and was fearful, which wasn't like him. He tried to get to his paws. Slowly he moved his feet under him and tried to stand, only to have his shaky legs collapse under him. He lied on the ground for a few seconds, panting, but reminded himself that Simba would probably arrive in mere minutes. He had to get to his feet and find a place to hide or run to for the time being if he wanted to have a chance for survival. Adrenaline surged through him and he stood on weak feet. He limped away as fast as he could and eventually sped into a lopsided run.

Unfortunately, there wasn't much he could do. There was little place to hide and since the land was flat and barren, it was easy to spot things a great distance away. Finally he saw the shadow of another lion. His blood ran cold but at the same time he began to growl menacingly, prepared to defend himself. Perhaps he had a fighting chance if he snuck up on the figure and attacked it from behind. He crouched low to the ground, hoping the lion, who was probably Simba, hadn't seen him. He moved slowly and stealthily on his paws. Finally he was just behind Simba. A smile curved on the edge of his lips as he pounced at him. He flew through the air, only to find…

Zira? What was she doing here?

Zira quickly sidestepped out of the way of Scar's pounce, and he landed in a heap on the hard ground. She had seen him the whole time.

"What was that for? That is no way to treat someone after they save your life."

He sprawled quickly to his paws.

"Zira?" Scar sputtered out quickly. He couldn't keep the surprise and twinge of irritation out of his voice as he continued. "What are you doing here?"

"Trying to find food for us. Unfortunately, there don't appear to be any antelope or zebras for miles around. I came back to make sure you were still where I had left you, but you were gone."

Scar raised an eyebrow. Zira continued.

"I know you are wondering why you are here. But of course I wouldn't have left you near that dreadful place where I saved you from the hyenas. Simba wouldn't take kindly to having his father's murderer around." Zira scoffed as Scar growled. Simba had made them both angry. He had tried to kill Scar and take his place as king, which rightfully infuriated him. Zira of course felt the same way Scar did. She adored Scar, following him around, blindly loyal to his every command. Apparently her undying loyalty was useful to him. She was the only one who had saved him from certain doom.

Zira continued to circle Scar slowly. Scar got up and turned around to look Zira in her strangely calm red eyes.

"Speaking of Simba, he shall no doubt be here any moment now, my dear. I'm afraid Zazu found me before you did." He smirked.

Zira scowled and glared at the horizon coldly.

"We should leave. We will get our sweet revenge later," Scar filled the silence with an evil grin, which together with his glowing eyes made him look like his old treacherous self for a moment, instead of an injured lion who could barely stand.

Zira joined in with a toothy smile spread from ear to ear. She drifted off, thinking of the day when she would rip Simba apart. He would roar in pain and she would slowly…

"Come, Zira." Scar said, waking her from her fantasies and dreams of revenge. He began to walk off vaguely, waiting for her to follow. She padded along to his side, and began to run slowly ahead of him, apparently knowing where she was going. He sped up and walked quickly behind her.

"Where are we going, darling?" Scar questioned.

"You'll see."

Review please? :)