A/N: Okay, so I haven't read any Lion King fanfics, so this may be totally unoriginal and butchers canon. I apologize in advance. This is just what came from listening to the best villain songs (read: "Be Prepared") too many times over.
Disclaimer: I do not own The Lion King or anything so connected.
The young lion licked his paw morosely. Mufasa was getting praised by his mother again. Did it matter that he had found the gazelle, and felled it, himself? No, it only mattered that Mufasa—the dolt—had been standing next to it when Mother had come to check up on them. Plus that Mufasa was the oldest, and heir to the throne, and therefore the only one who could have done such a wonderful job. He snorted. Right. Because Mufasa's such a genius.
He had been the one to plan everything. He had done everything Mufasa did, and more! And what happened? He became the "black sheep" of the family. Lame, lame pun about his fur.
But no one noticed him. They were all too busy fawning over the ever-so-smug Mufasa, who surreptitiously cast a glance at his younger brother.
He growled at the fauxly-apologetic look and turned his body about to face the cave wall. Someday, he would get his due, be respected by all. He'd show everyone. He'd be the one to come on top, saluted, recognized for his own competence, and Mufasa would be crushed!
Literally, he smirked wishfully, picturing the scene, but was brought back to reality when his mother's teeth fell on the scruff of his neck, picking him up and twisting him around to face Mufasa. "Come on, kiddo, join the party! It's Mufasa's first successful hunt!"
He waved a paw at his mother's jaws, failing to get her to drop him. "Mom, come on! I'm not a little kid anymore!"
"Oh, but you'll always be my little cub," she mumbled around his only-half-grown-in mane. She finally let go, and he fell to the ground with a thump as she padded away, back to Mufasa.
He scowled. "I'm not a cub," he muttered as he slinked away, abandoning Pride Rock to get time away from his perfect brother.
Someday…