His paws ached as he scrabbled to get a hold on the smooth rock, pieces dislodging when his claws sunk into the sandstone. The vision in his right eye went blurry and red due to the blood seeping from the wound given by a startled wildebeest. His sides ached every time he took even a shallow breath, head swimming from impending concussion. Still, the golden beast heaved his shoulders up the sheer cliff face, his muscles bulging from the effort of his exhausted forelegs dragging his weakening body upward. He only had a foot or two left to climb, and he could crawl to the small waterhole not too far from the gorge – he'd shelter there under the palm trees, and he could tell Zazu to alert Sarabi. He would stay there until he regained his strength, Rafiki would bind his broken ribs and nurse his wounds. Everything would be alright. Simba was safe, that was the main thing. Once Simba was alright, he could worry about himself later.

But the king was tiring – his vision danced in white spots before his eyes, he was running out of oxygen due to the height of the gorge and the pressure on his limbs. It was getting steeper, so steep that it was now almost a straight drop down, his hind legs giving away beneath him, only his strong upper body holding him up. Grunting, the lion dragged himself up a bit further, panting hard, pads bleeding, head throbbing. He looked up, to see how far he was from safety. There was a ledge half a foot away and staring down on him, his chiselled features set like the rock face he was climbing, was Scar. Mufasa would have smiled with joy if his face hadn't been straining from the exertion, "Scar!" he gasped. Slipping a few inches, the king panicked and clung onto the edge for dear life, heart ricocheting against his battered chest. "Brother," muttered Scar monotonously, gazing at his struggling brother without blinking. Mufasa was surprised at the lack of emotion in Scar's tone; why was he being his usual, blunt self? Why wasn't he helping him? Was he in shock? Realizing that he had to snap his brother out of his unbreakable glare, he called out to him, "Brother! Help me!" his hind legs scrabbling aimlessly for a hold as he did so.

Staring without any trace of emotion, Scar did not react. Mufasa was about to plead, when suddenly his younger brother's features turned from being passive to deep, burning hatred. Leaning over the side of the ravine, he sunk his claws into Mufasa's paws. Blood spat into the king's face as he roared in pain, his flesh tearing as he slipped slightly from his brother's grasp. Scar dug his talons in deeper, and instead of pulling his brother up, he smirked callously at him. Mufasa gaped up at Scar, too shocked to even cry – why wasn't he pulling him up? Why was he just leaning on the face of the rock, leaving him hanging? Great Kings, just pull me up already!

Scar's devilish grin widened and he leaned slowly, deliberately, and whispered in a dry, nasally voice, and full of bitter hatred –"long live the king."

Eyes widening, Mufasa's mind was filled with a drowned out buzzing drone – what was going on? What was Scar getting at? He knew, he had known all along – but he didn't think that his brother, his own kin, the lion that was once kind-hearted and non judgemental, would ever think of –

His thoughts were cut short as his brother began to loosen his grip. The only thing the doomed ruler could think of, to perhaps snap his brother out of his murderous reverie, was one small word – a long buried name. His voice came out, childlike and innocent, like a little cub lost – "Taka!"

As soon as the name had left his lips, the traitor flung his tormentor over the side of the ravine. It was as he watched the body drop like a stone, limbs flailing to grab at nothing but air, the strangled scream of fear as he fell, that Scar realised what his brother had said. He was convinced that he could hear a cub screaming, in the crevice of his brain, a dismayed shriek that sounded like his own demons.

"Noooooooooo!"

Scar closed his eyes before he heard the thud – for even after what he'd done, he could not bear to see the body of his brother hit the ground.