Disclaimer: I DO NOT take credit for The Lion King characters or their respective storyline. They are owned by Walt Disney. This story is just a depiction of said story with the characters turned human. Some original characters and ideas will appear, and I will take credit for them as they do. I hope you guys enjoy and let me know what you think of the idea :). Note: this is rated T for possible language and slight violence.

The (Human) Lion King—the retelling of a classic tale

Chapter Two: Dark Horizon

Following the birth of Prince Samuel, the entire kingdom of Stolz broke free from their regular routines to celebrate the joyous occasion. Parades and feasts, festivals and dances were all held in the child's royal name. Finally, after so many years of waiting and wondering, their kingdom had a future. All were thrilled.

All but one.

Prince Thomas, younger brother to the great and mighty King Michael, was not celebrating at all. He sat in his room, brooding all alone and smoking a cigar. From the balcony of his quarters in the royal palace, Thomas could see most of the city surrounding the palace wall, which meant he had a wonderful view of all the celebrations taking place for the birth of the new prince.

Idiots, he thought as crowds gathered by the hundreds around the palace gates. They were all cramming to catch a glimpse of the ceremony of Samuel's presentation to the kingdom. So many people pressed shoulder to shoulder waiting under the smoldering heat of the sun just to see one stupid baby, nix new nephew.

It was not fair. Now that the little brat was around, Thomas's title as first in line to inherit the throne, the entire kingdom of Stolz, was now null and void. He would never become king. He had always been second best. First he was behind his stupid, big headed older brother; now he was behind a thumb-sucking infant as well. It was unbearable.

As kids, Michael and Thomas had been close friends. The five year age difference between them meant nothing, as they were practically attached at the hip. Of course their father, the great King Alexander, would never cease to remind them that "only one could be king; and the greatest, bravest, strongest brother would prevail."

Naturally by birth right, the oldest son would rightfully become the heir to the throne, especially in their father's eyes. King Alexander was a strong, ruthless leader and an even stricter father. Michael and Thomas were put through vigorous training to become picturesque leaders from a very young age: archery, riflery, fencing, horseback riding, and jousting were just a few of the activities that took place along with their regular school studies. Michael would always be class favorite to Alexander, and Thomas would always fall behind.

Being the youngest meant nothing to their father. Thomas was always pushed harder and criticized with every mistake he made.

"Why can't you be more like your brother?" Alexander would ask. "He can assert himself like a man, like a king! What is wrong with you?"

Thomas hated that man, even if he was his father, the King. It was his fault that Thomas would forever walk in the shadow of his big brother.

A knock at the door brought Thomas back to reality from his miserable stroll down memory lane. "What is it?" he barked as he puffed on his cigar once more. The door squeaked open and Ezekiel, Royal Adviser to the King, stepped in looking prim and proper as ever in his special occasion dress robes. Thomas groaned. "What do you want?"

Ezekiel bowed slightly, just enough to be considered polite, but not necessarily out of respect. He despised Prince Thomas with a passion, not just because he was moody, grumpy, and generally rude to everyone he came into contact with, but because he was everything his brother was not.

Unlike his big and burly brother, Thomas was tall and lanky in physique. He had a thin, angular face and his skin was tanned dark like his mother's. His shoulder length, pitch black hair (a trait inherited from his father) was a glaring distinction from Michael's short auburn color. But the most obvious contrast were his glowing green eyes, made even more terrifying by the long, jagged scar that stretched from the corner of his left eye to the middle of his cheek, a nasty memento from a brutal fight he had gotten into as a teenager.

Ezekiel cleared his throat. "I am here to announce that King Michael is on his way to your quarters," his cordial smile turned into a scowl. "So you'd better have a good excuse for missing the ceremony this morning."

Thomas moved away from the window and purposefully exhaled a cloud of smoke into Ezekiel's face. "Give me a minute; I'm sure I'll think of something." He plopped down onto the giant leather sofa and closed his eyes, as if pretending to be asleep. Several minutes passed of him doing nothing when he suddenly opened his eyes and glared at Ezekiel. He groaned again. "Oh, you're still here." Thomas drawled.

"Unfortunately, yes."

"Well I can't think with you just standing there like that, you are making me lose my concentration."

Ezekiel scoffed. "You'll lose more than that when the King gets through with you. He is quite upset at your appearance today."

Thomas rolled his eyes and sat up. "Oh how petrifying!" he shouted theatrically with mock terror. "Look, how I quiver with fear!"

"Thomas," Michael's booming voice sounded from the doorway and echoed through the large room. "That's enough." The King, like Ezekiel, was wearing ceremonial garb, complete with chest plate armor, his sweeping red cape, and the King's royal crown which had been a part of the royal family for generations.

"Weeeell if it isn't my big brother descending from on high to mingle with the commoners." Thomas sneered. Michael ignored the sarcasm in his brother's voice and continued, his voice as level as he could manage,

"Sarah and I did not see you at the presentation of Samuel."

Thomas gasped with fake surprise, once again acting facetious. "That was today?!" he asked dramatically. "Oh, I feel simply awful! It must have slipped my mind."

Ezekiel scoffed again. "Yes, well as slippery as your mind is, as the King's brother, you should have been first in line!"

"I was first in line," he snapped back, all pretense of joking now vanished from his voice. "Until the little brat was born."

"That "little brat", as you refer to him, is my son…your nephew, Thomas." Michael reminded. "And your future King."

"Oh thank you for reminding me of that fact, brother. I shall have to go practice my courtesy." The jealous prince scowled and turned to leave, but Michael called him back.

"Don't turn your back on me Thomas!"

"Oh no, Michael," Thomas snarled. "Perhaps you shouldn't turn your back on me."

Fed up, Michael drew his sword in anger and pointed it straight at his brother's chest. No one, not even the King's own brother, was allowed to defy him like that. "Is that a challenge?" he growled. Thomas looked at the sword with indifference, as if it were merely a toy. He shook his head and clucked his tongue.

"Temper, temper. I wouldn't dream of challenging you. I may have inherited our mother's intelligence, but when it comes to our father's brute strength…" he looked Michael up and down with disdain. "I'm afraid I am at the shallow end of the gene pool." He bowed without taking his eyes off the king. "Now if you will excuse me your majesty," he sneered the title. "I have more important things to do." Thomas crossed to his large wooden desk, sat in the plush chair, and propped his feet up while dragging his cigar. Michael scowled.

"Those things are going to kill you, you know." Thomas didn't answer, but puffed another large cloud of smoke instead. Michael shook his head. "Mother hated smoking. What would she say if she saw you now?"

Thomas narrowed his eyes at the mention of their mother, Queen Rose. She had been a sweet, soft-spoken, kind-hearted woman and Thomas had adored her. It broke his heart as a teenager when she died. She was the one person he felt comfortable talking to and he was never quite the same without her. "Don't you have somewhere else to be, brother? Some kingly…things to attend to?" he flicked some ashes at the King's boots and turned to face the window, officially ending their conversation.

"Very well, Thomas," Michael sighed sadly. "I shall go."

"One more thing Michael," Thomas called without facing his brother. "Stop calling me Thomas. As I have told you a hundred times before, I prefer to be called…Scar."

Michael sheathed his sword and exited into the hallway, followed closely by Ezekiel. "He brings out the worst in me, Ezekiel." Michael confided with his fists clenched. "I hate that he does that, but it's true."

"You mustn't let him get under your skin, sire. There's one in every family…two in mine, actually…and they always manage to ruin special occasions. You can't control it sir."

"What am I going to do with him?" the King mussed.

"You can always give him up for adoption, your majesty." Ezekiel joked stoically, with only the slightest indication of humor. Michael raised his eyebrows in amusement. "And just think:" Ezekiel continued. "It would be an awful lot quieter around here if you did."

Michael laughed genuinely and Ezekiel smiled, glad to see the King returning to his normal virtuous mood. Little did either of them know, a dark cloud was approaching on the horizon, ready to attack, and it was moving faster than anyone could possibly imagine.

For character references, here is who has been introduced from the movie so far:

Michael- Mufasa

Ezekiel- Zazu

Sarah- Sarabi

Samuel- Simba

Thomas- Scar

Hope there is someone out there who thinks this is interesting. Tell me what you think and leave a review!