Disclaimer: I don't own Lion King.

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Chapter 26: Return

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Scar dragged his weary body across the plains. He left the bordering river and the Outlands behind. Having set his eyes on the distant image of Pride Rock in front of him, he was returning to his birthplace. On his way he passed the grim Elephant Graveyard, which used to be his secret lair once upon a time. Now not even a single burst of laughter could be heard among the bones of the giants. The hyenas must have left this place for good.

For a fleeting moment, Scar regretted his foolish, hasty decision to turn on his former allies. As stupid as they were, he had an army then. Perhaps had he stuck his tongue behind his teeth, he would have had his hyena lackeys at his disposal now. Scar shook his head, wishing he could turn back time. It was impossible though – the chances long lost couldn't be regained.

Due to sheer luck, Simba knew nothing of his presence in the Pride Lands yet. The dethroned king strolled across the territory that used to belong to him once. The rain and time restored the vast grasslands to their former glory. Not a trace of decay was left – the water filled rivers and waterholes again, the hers returned, the region was full of life once more. It looked just like during Mufasa's reign and even earlier, when he and Scar were just a pair of cubs.

Suddenly, a wave of memories washed over Scar. Previously, he didn't quite realize how much meaning each spot, every tree and rock on the savannah held. A lonely acacia tree was linked with the recollection of Scar's mother resting in its shade, while her cubs playing in the tall grass. The waterhole was a symbol of late King Ahadi – only once Scar's father had taken him on a trip without Mufasa. Although he got the chance to spend time with his father, the memory had a bitter touch to it, for Scar found out that he would never be a King. The battered lion smirked. He had proven Ahadi wrong. It didn't last, but he managed to hold the throne for quite long, longer than Mufasa and even Ahadi himself. In a way, it was a success.

Scar's throat was dry and his thirst demanded him to quench it in the waterhole, but he stayed away. From the distance, he observed the animals gathering by the water, drinking, as the sun slowly set. They were Simba's subjects. If they alerted his despicable nephew of his presence, Scar's sentimental trip would end prematurely, and he wanted to get a chance to see the Pride Rock from up close once before dying.

Carefully watching the herbivores and predators seeping water, he snuck past them, limping awkwardly. His legs started failing him, so Scar lay down with gaze set on the Pride Rock, his birthplace. It seemed that he wouldn't see it from up close before his death. Sighing, he rested his head on his paws, blankly staring at the animals journeying to the place where the king resided. Giraffes, gazelles, warthogs and cheetahs, birds and reptiles – everyone was hurrying, as if something grand was about to occur.

One of the travelers was a stout leopard, confidently trotting forward. Scar lifted his head, when a sudden movement in the grass caught his eye. An inconspicuous snake shot from the ground, sinking his fangs in the leopard's nose. The big, spotted cat hissed from pain, trashing wildly. The snake opened his jaws and sailed away in the air, landing in the dirt right in front of Scar.

"He stepped on me, the insensitive bastard," the snake muttered, as if justifying his deed.

The leopard growled, hurrying to punish the snake. However, me managed to take merely two steps before collapsing and seizing until his soul left his body. Watching him die, Scar suddenly felt more alive and oddly fascinated. It was amazing that such a small, weak, crawling creature could take down a robust opponent, whose power outmatched his multiple times.

"Tell me, my crawling friend, where are you hurrying?" Scar asked the snake, before he managed to set out on his venture again.

The reptile glared at the lion and hissed, clearly displeased by being talked to.

"I'm not your friend." He clarified, before pointing the tip of his tail at the Pride Rock. "And I don't have time to chat with you. I don't want to be late for the presentation of King Simba's cub."

Having said that, the snake crawled away, leaving a very intrigued lion behind. A small, sly smirk flourished on Scar's muzzle. His mind was at work again and what a marvelous idea he had! Weak, but strangely energetic, he jumped to his paws. Actually, he pulled his skinny body with great difficulty, but with each movement more energy flowed through Scar, as if his devious thoughts served for his nourishment.

"Goodbye," Scar said to the Pride Rock, grinning at the royal seat which was supposed to belong to him. He turned his back to it and set toward the Outlands. "For now."

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The interior of the highest termite mound in the Outlands was eerily silent, although all the pride members were present inside. The lionesses hunted for hours with a meager result – merely several laughably thin rodents lay in the center and everyone was wondering how to split their prey. No matter how optimistic they could be, there was not enough food.

Zira chewed at her share, frustrated by the expecting, hopeful looks the fellow lionesses were giving her. They wanted her to think of a solution, to do something about the starvation. To an impartial observer it could seem that Zira was ignoring the problem, neglecting taking the action. However, a vital part of hunting is the patient wait. And she did it – Zira waited.

Her teeth crushed the rodent's bones, she swallowed the dry meat, watching Kovu drink her milk eagerly and Vitani harass Nuka. Of course, the little lioness managed to overturn her older brother and pin him down, snatching his dinner. Zira lay with her back to the exit of the termite mound. She didn't turn around when the lionesses gasped, springing to their paws in a defiant positions. Nuka's jaw dropped, but that didn't faze his mother either. Zira wasn't startled and didn't even need to check who arrived.

"Took you long enough," she said, taking her time to gently push Kovu aside before standing up to greet the prodigal pride member. Scar furrowed his brows, clearly trying to read Zira, but she wasn't going to make it easy for him. She gave him a quizzical smile, prowling toward him like a seductive huntress. "Do you have a plan?"

"In fact, I do." Scar straightened his hunched back, gazing at her in a way, she hadn't saw before.

Confidence and ambition oozed from him, engulfing him. It was as if a troubled cripple left the Outlands and a king returned, a leader bound to rescue Zira's pride from their predicament. Scar gathered all his agility and strength to climb onto the highest spot inside the termite mound. He looked at the anticipating lionesses from above. All the attention was focused on his skinny silhouette.

"Ladies," he said, and his voice echoed throughout the mound. "Tomorrow, we will be dining on Pride Rock."

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Author's Note:

Hi, muffins! Thanks for reading and the reviews. Do you want read more chapters? Let me know in your comments, please. I adore receiving reviews from you and I always get back to you.