(Hello everyone and welcome on my first little story - a complete one-shot. This one is inspired by the deleted scene/musical scene "The Madness of King Scar", where Scar says that he is constantly followed by the spirit of his brother and that he feels like he is going mad. Just a quick disclaimer: this is the first time I write a story in English and I tried to do my best with the language, however if you spot any mistakes I do encourage you to point them out, as I would be happy to correct them. I hope you enjoy the read!)

Specters

When he opened his eyes, he instinctively turned his gaze towards the entrance of the cave, and he realized that it was still nighttime. That had just proven to be yet another one of many sleepless nights, to which he had grown accustomed to. For many days now, the sky above Pride Rock had been covered by a layer of clouds so dark and thick that very little sunlight could get through it, which had begun to make it extremely difficult for him and the lionesses to tell night from day. He had dared to hope that those clouds would finally bring some relief from the grip of a drought that had plagued his reign since its earliest days; however, much to his dismay, he had soon had to accept the fact that not a single raindrop would have wet the dried-up soil of the savannah. Those clouds that had sparked his hope now seemed to sit still over the Pride Lands as if to mock him, or as if the spirits of the Great Kings themselves were mocking him from the echoes of the past where their memory lived on.

Or punishing him, whispered a voice in the back of his head that Scar could barely hear, and that he immediately dismissed. No, those were just foolish superstitions that he had never cared for. There was no life after death, that's what he had always defiantly claimed since his youth, mostly for the sake of contradicting his father's teachings; however, with time he had truly convinced himself that all that mattered in life was self-assertion, that the strongest should prevail by any means necessary in an unsparing and unjust reality, where minding morals was the easiest way to let others take advantage of you. He had proven that he was the strongest. He had proven to himself that there was no limit to his ambition, which had brought to him what he had always longed for the most.

And yet, an unsettling awareness had begun to slither through his thoughts, a voice that could hardly be heard; at first, it had been as feeble as a breath, but it had slowly become increasingly distinct, and now it whispered words that he refused to listen to: it reminded him that the kingdom that he had seized through deceit and that he had always believed was destined to be his, was not the coronation of a lifelong ambition, but rather a burden that he had naively believed he could carry. It also reminded him that he was walking on thin ice and that the patience of his subjects was wearing thinner day by day. This realization grew more and more clear, and so did his sense of helplessness and frustration. He had believed that the crown would have given him the respect and the affection of those he had always been surrounded by, and for whom he had always believed to be invisible. On the contrary, it had become obvious to him that what he had mistaken for simple skepticism at the beginning of his rule had quickly turned into dismay and discontent.

What's worse, however, was that what he saw when he closed his eyes to get some rest had begun to seriously undermine his beliefs about the afterlife.

For a few moments he just stared into the dark, caught in that whirlpool of thoughts and gripped by a grim cold sensation in his chest.

Suddenly, though, he dismissed those concerns with a contemptuous snarl and got up, heading silently towards the entrance of the cave, where he hoped to get some fresh air. The difficult situation the Pride Lands were currently in was not his fault. He did not care what others had to say. The drought had nothing to do with his actions, it was utterly fortuitous and it most certainly wasn't an act of angry spirits, or any of that nonsense; his predecessor had just been luckier than him, as he had been in any other aspect.

He looked over his shoulder, fixing his gaze on the only one that spent the nights beside him in that den: Zira was asleep, and she didn't seem to have noticed that he no longer was by her side. Unlike him, recent events had not spoilt her sleep; if anything, she seemed to have the deepest faith in the fact that things would get better soon. As he looked at her, he remembered the day she had shown up at the base of Pride Rock with her nomadic lionesses, asking to join his pride. They came from ungenerous lands and in exchange for protection and food they offered him their hunting skills and, of course, their blind loyalty.

Those were better times, and back then a larger pride at his service seemed like the best tool through which he could strengthen and stabilize his position as king; he would have never admitted it, but he had also hoped that a larger number of lionesses would help him keep the hyenas at bay: with time, those brutish beasts had begun to demand more and more meat, and their smug sneers had grown more aggressive towards their savior. At first, the alliance between the two prides seemed to have been a smart deal, but what had surprised him the most was Zira's demeanor. Initially, he had been suspicious of her, but she had soon proven him completely wrong: not only had she proven that she did not have any ill intentions and that she intended to uphold her end of the deal, but soon her gratitude had become obedience, and that obedience had become utter deference. Soon enough, her deference and loyalty had evolved into a much deeper and complex feeling. It had taken Scar a while to realize it, but then he had immediately begun to ponder on how he could take advantage of the situation: he knew that sooner or later he would have had to address the succession issue. He admired Zira's blind loyalty to him, he knew he could trust her and he respected her for that. He trusted her so much that he had disclosed his darkest secrets to her; even then she had managed to surprise him, for her demeanor towards him didn't change in the slightest. If anything, her admiration for him grew even stronger. He had often asked himself if what he felt for the lioness was affection, or a feeling of that sort; such question always brought to his mind memories of his mother, the only one who had given him pure and genuine affection and love, or at least that's what he remembered, but she had been gone for a long time and those memories seemed to belong to another life.

He wasn't sure he remembered what it was like to feel affection towards someone, and he felt unable to answer his own question.

In that moment, his gaze fell on his mate's belly, which moved up and down as she breathed in her sleep. It was getting noticeable. Almost fearing that his steady gaze could wake her up, Scar turned to face the outside of the cave, where he could now see the first faint lights of dawn. His mind was racing: he thought back to the incessant complaints of the lionesses about the lack of food and water; even the hyenas had begun to pester him with their complaints, and some of them showed him that they could be even more insolent and aggressive than the lionesses when voicing their protest. He was well aware that an heir was of vital importance, but he couldn't deny that another mouth to feed was soon to join the pride in the least favorable time.

Suddenly, a voice coming from behind his shoulder brought him back to reality.

"Enjoying another sleepless night?" asked Zira, now awake. He did not answer - he very seldom had to; she always seemed to sense even the slightest change in his mood, he was an open book for her and he wasn't sure how he felt about that. He just kept staring into the distance, where the dark of the night was slowly fading away.

"You worry too much." she said after a long moment of silence. The only answer she got from him was a disgruntled snort.

"You just need to be patient for a little longer. These clouds are carrying rain, I'm sure." she added calmly. "The water will end the drought and the herds will return. It's only a matter of..."

"I didn't lose my sleep over the weather." he interrupted her abruptly, with a hint of bitter sarcasm in his voice. Zira was quiet once again for a few moments, looking at him carefully; then she let out a sigh.

"You dreamed about... that thing again?" she asked, trying to sound as tactful as possible. Even though she knew that she was in a privileged position, she also knew that it did not allow her to mention certain events or - even worse - certain names.

Once again Scar did not reply; he just kept staring outside of the cave.

"You know there is nothing you have to blame yourself for." she said. "It's only natural that the strongest rule, and you clearly were the strongest. It's not always about brute strength: in your case, you were aided by your strength of mind and cunning." she stated, giving him a little knowing smile. He did not see it, though. He seemed too caught up in his own thoughts, and Zira suspected that he hadn't heard a single one of her words.

"Do you believe in spirits, Zira?" Scar suddenly asked. The lioness' smile vanished.

"What do you mean?" she asked. That question had caught her off guard, and she was struggling to understand its meaning.

"Growing up, were you ever told stories about spirits and ancestors? And about an inextinguishable fire that devours all who desecrate their memory? Many believe these stories here." he continued, without getting his eyes off the horizon, barely visible in the mist.

"I believe you should just go back to sleep and stop tormenting yourself with this nonsense." she replied drily. It was then that Scar finally turned to look at her, with an unreadable expression. For a moment, Zira feared she had dared too much. However, much to her relief, he lowered his head with a pensive expression.

"I never believed them either..." he said.

"Of course. Only fools would seriously believe such superstitious..."

"...but lately my sleep has been tormented by horrifying visions." he interrupted her again. "I see fire engulfing the whole of Pride Rock, destroying everything it meets on its path towards the sky above our home. I keep seeing many unrecognizable faces in the smoke, their malevolent eyes staring into my soul..." he told her, even though it sounded like he was talking to himself, as if she weren't there to listen to his confession. Zira shot him a questioning look; it worried her to see him like that: she had very seldom seen him in such distress and it was obvious that there was something that was deeply upsetting him.

"Those are just dreams." she commented, doing her best to sound convincing in order to appease him. "Nothing more. You are just overwhelmed with worries right now, and it's only normal that you're not yourself. It's those damned lionesses, they just won't stop harassing you with their constant demands." she said as she got up from her bed to go sit next to him. "We'll overcome this moment of darkness and then everything will be back to normal."

Scar, though grateful as he was for her attentions and her efforts to lift his spirits, did not seem altogether comforted by her words.

"You did not actually answer my question." he insisted.

Zira sighed and rolled her eyes.

"I told you: I simply think it's nonsense." she replied. "Death comes for everyone, sooner or later, and the world out there is full of dangers. Those who are gone don't come back to complain about it. No ill-intentioned spirit is standing between you and a sound night's sleep. You are just full of worries."

Hoping that would be the last of that strange conversation, she turned to head back to her bed by the cave walls, looking forward to falling asleep once again.

"I see him." said Scar suddenly. The lioness stopped and immediately turned to look at him with an expression of utter surprise, unsure of what to say or do.

"You think it's all nonsense, all stories, and not long ago I would have said the same. But I do see him. Always." he continued, locking his eyes on hers. "He never leaves me alone, never gives me a moment of peace."

"Is that so? And what about the little brat? Is he there too?" Zira joked, in an attempt to make that unnerving situation a little lighter. Her mate's cold and upset stare, however, quickly made her reconsider her approach. She suddenly realized she had never seen him that way and for the first time since they had started talking, a freezing sensation ran down her spine.

"You can't be serious."

"Specters do come back, Zira. They whisper, they stare, they point their finger at you. They know. And in the dark of the night, in the intangible dimension between wakefulness and sleep, he is always there waiting for me. His eyes judge me, they ask for an explanation, for a reason. And I find myself incapable of answering them. I'm too afraid to. I feel his pain, as if I myself were thrown into a bottomless pit. I can't run. Wherever I look, I see his face." He turned once again to stare at the evanescent line of the horizon. "That's why I can't stand to hear others mention his name. He lives in the memory of everyone surrounding me; it's those fools who keep him alive, whispering his name, summoning his presence. I just want him to go, I want him to leave me alone."

His bony face was now barely lit by the first morning light that hardly shone through the thick layer of clouds, and when Zira noticed how empty and blank his gaze was, she was deeply disturbed.

"You'll think that I'm simply going crazy..." he said, suddenly turning his head to face her. The lioness was too afraid to nod.

"Just dismiss these awful thoughts of death, Scar." she said, sitting once again by his side, and trying her best to stay resolute. "What you see when you fall asleep is not real. You did what had to be done and it's time that you move on. Don't let a foolish guilt destroy you. I know you are not weak, unlike these idiots have always believed: show it to those who still doubt you. We will overcome this moment and you'll find peace again." she said, though not as convincingly as before. "Just be patient."

Scar, however, went completely silent once more. Neither of them added another word to that conversation, instead they just sat there, at the entrance of their cave, waiting for the sun to rise.