Title: Lex Talionis

Chapter:Part VI-Fire and Ice

Synopsis: Memories are a pool of our deepest desires and our worst nightmares.

Author's note: This is the last chapter of Lex Talionis. A very special thank you to those who left reviews and a very big shout out to Angharad23 for having faith in my project.

Scar knew he had hit a nerve. He could feel Mufasa measuring and analyzing his words the way a lioness would strategize her hunt. He anticipated his brother's forthcoming words. He wanted to see exactly how he would rationalize his little secret. He wanted to see exactly how he would remember it. Did he really think that he could just make his presence known and be on his merry way like nothing happened? Scar's effect was not felt by the number of wounds he could inflict on flesh, but by the corrosion of his words. His brother was built up as a rock and slowly, intimately, he was breaking down. Certain words, certain phrases and careful annunciation had slowly stripped him of that regal glow and brought the older male, the King, down onto his feet and at the mercy of his brother, the weaker, the lesser of the two.

"Have I unsettled you, dear brother?" Scar said in mock care, knowing that he knocked his brother out of his golden perch.

"I just don't like having my time wasted while you wish to play trivial pursuit," Mufasa huffed, trying all his might to preserve his dignity and a cool face.

"I don't see why it is a waste of time, when you made the effort to 'fix' what you refuse to acknowledge. I see no reason for the Great King to be so afraid-"

"I am not afraid!" The King roared, startling his brother from his trail of thought. Scar blinked incredulously.

He lost control. It was one thing when he was in a bad mood and hyenas had struck a nerve. He had carefully followed the steps to Scar's dance but now the chips had fallen.

Mufasa took steady and controlled breaths. He had already slipped up. There was his sin, his marker for the world to see. Although this was a private matter between them, Mufasa felt exposed. Humiliated. He tried to regain his composure and he knew he had to do it fast. Damage control. Mufasa was being defensive like a porcupine. On that outside he was prickly, but once you got him in the right spot, he would get access to the soft flesh.

It was a deadly dance and it was high time to pick up the pace. Scar walked over to his brother and slowly, rubbed against him. Mufasa momentarily flinched but maintained his ground. He did not want Scar to think that he was startled. He stood still as he felt his brother press against him a little more firmly than he wanted, purring as he did so. Mufasa's heart rate increased for momentarily he was transported to that day he would forever bury in the back of his mind. He could not deny that the sensations were welcoming and yet he was a little embarrassed in not denying the contact. Scar finished it off by rubbing his head against his brother's. Whether it was done intentionally to mock him or not, Mufasa did not care. It was embarrassing enough knowing that Scar had not forgotten about their…tryst.

"Afraid of my touch, brother?" Scar said in a deep tone.

"There is none here, brother," Mufasa muttered lowly.

"Then why are you shaking?" Scar sighed.

"Some shake because of fear. Others because they are trying to control something. In my case, its anger. I do not wish to hurt you but believe me when I say that nothing would give me greater pleasure…." The King said warningly. Scar responded with a sinister chuckle.

"You say you are a charging rhino, but all I see is a quivering leaf." Scar said as he sat down opposite his brother. "What happens if I unleash the beast, brother?"

"Then this would have been all for naught," Mufasa said morosely. Scar was piqued.

"A waste of time, is that what you are calling it now?" Scar sneered.

"If I hypothetically did, then what do I gain? Nothing. You will walk away with a limp. I may go back to the pride with my mane in a messy shag but I will still have my laurels. If I did directly challenge you I gain nothing."

He was so defensive and protective, not just those of whom he loved but of his deep secrets, his very inner core. It had to be carefully guarded and he had caught a glimpse. He had to know more.

"This thing, this is nothing more than a shield. A protective barrier. I don't know for what. This is only a symptom of something much deeper," Scar observed shrewdly.

"Disappointment," Mufasa shot back without missing a beat.

"Ah," Scar said pointedly.

"Yes."

"Why?"

"Because of you. Your inferiority complex and inability to have a simple conversation without blowing it out of proportion. You are better than that. Rise above it." The King said darkly.

"Maybe I would rise above it, if you would come down to earth," Scar interjected.

The truth struck and the core of the King's consciousness. What made the words especially acute was that they came from someone whom he felt did not fit the profile of a regal and royal leader. They came from someone whose deadliest weapon was his tongue. Nonetheless, that did not negate the truth in Scar's admission. Even he had his points. There was no denying that. It was just that they had grown apart and had become complete opposites and yet, they once shared a womb. They were part of the same crèche. Now, they might as well be from two different prides. Still, the King could not just cast his brother out like that. It would be so easy, but what would easy do? It would just delay the problem. It would provide a temporary solution, but it would not fix the long term problem. He had admitted that he had been wrong, but Scar wanted to gut him. He was willing to put himself down a few notches if it meant gaining his brother's favor. This was not done for annexing territory, this was not done for food. This was to right a wrong that he had committed. He did not want to acknowledge the complete details.

Scar would not let him go unless he would admit his fall. His sin.

Scar wanted to hear that he had enjoyed it.

Scar did not care about apologies or truces. He wanted Mufasa to concede, to proclaim what occurred that time between them. In essence, this was worse than exposing one's belly to an enemy.

And yet, his brother would not stop. He would not stop until he got what he wanted.

There was no going around that.

He did not hate the act itself. On the contrary, he believed that it brought the two of them closer, even if it was temporary. Before then, their relationship was icy at best. Circumstances had brought them together in the most unusual of ways. That was not a bad thing. He could still feel Scar's angular body beneath him, feel and smell his mane. He could still hear his brother let out low growls and soft purrs.

He could still recall how Scar had given himself to 'solve his problem'. He hated the wording but it would have been wrong to call it a manipulation on his part. It was supposed to bring them together but it only served to divide them.

What made him hate it was Scar implying that he had become weak. He hated his twisting of his words. He twisted something personal and private between them into something strange and ugly. Further still, hurting Scar did not seem to help which in turn created this monster that began to eat him from within. He gave power to Scar's words, knowing how much he liked to flap his tongue, Mufasa felt a little flushed. Words only had power if you gave it to them. He could have ignored Scar's comments, but he made it worse. Now, here he was speaking to him. It was not violent, it was bloody. Perhaps there was another purpose to this little reunion.

"I don't know what you want me to say." Mufasa said finally.

"Acknowledge it. Were you ashamed?" Scar queried.

"I am ashamed of my actions. I am not ashamed of the time we spent getting to know one another. I am not ashamed that we….loved one another the way we did. I am not proud of how I handled the situation." Mufasa said finally. He looked at Scar who still had his paw over some stones. "If this is about a game or one upping me, you can stop. I don't take pleasure in being more popular than you. It has its advantages, I won't deny that, but I give you your space because you choose to be that way and I do not wish to tread on you. If you would only apply yourself without using these head games, you would get the respect that you desire." Desire, not deserve.

Scar hissed because he knew that his brother was right. He turned away from him.

"We played together. We fought together. Things have changed in a lot of respects, but not everything has to be so hostile and whether you choose to believe me or not, I adore you even if you disappoint me at times." Mufasa said in a calm manner. Scar's eyes widened at the confession. It was amplified by the fact that there was a morose tone attached to his brother's voice. He had broken him, cut into him. Seeing him in such a manner was something that intrigued Scar's interest. At the same time it was also a sad sight.

Isn't this what he had wanted?

The Golden Child, the Favorite was broken and beaten. Nothing was gained.

"Do you remember what I did after you got that scar?" Mufasa asked. "I was the one that convinced father that it was an accident and that you did not deserve the punishment. We all do things on impulse that we are not proud of but they don't always have to be stains. We can learn to grow from them. You can either run from it or learn from it." The King observed.

Another way to lose stones was by proving the other party wrong.

Scar begrudgingly accepted a rock.

It was the truth. Mufasa had campaigned for him and even asked that he be punished as well. The act of sentimentality was a foreign concept to Scar but he had to admit that the gesture was a generous one.

"Do you remember when we brought down the old buffalo bull that had been causing trouble on the plains?" Mufasa asked.

Of course Scar remembered. It was one of the few times when he engaged in team work of which they were two of his least favorite words.

"You pinned him while I aimed for the throat." Scar replied despondently.

It was an old bull. He killed cubs from neighboring pride. The pride male was older and he had asked their father for help. He acquiesced by giving the job to his two sons. Mufasa pushed the beast down while Scar gave it the death bite.

"Maybe you aren't the fastest hunter, but you had skills. I have not seen you apply them in recent days but I do not doubt your strengths in certain areas." The King said in a warm tone which was now a complete turn-around from where he was moments earlier.

Scar listened, more because he was curious about his brother's confession than because he was interested in any reconciliation. He had gotten some dirty secrets out of him and had him where he wanted but he had underestimated his brother, for while a King needed to have to brute strength to scare his enemies into submission, it was through the art of verbal diplomacy that he reigned.

With just the right tone, the right pitch, Mufasa could command. It was a bitter pill that Scar had to swallow. It was also a reminder that although they came from a common ancestry, they were completely different. They both had a gift when it came to language, the King could command, dominate or request with just a breath. When Scar did it, it was to plan, scheme or have others do his bidding. They could command an audience, sway with their words, but they were completely different in spirit, in intention.

"Do you remember that one time when we put ants in father's tail tuft?" Mufasa said with a warm smile, trying to add lightness in the otherwise glum environment. He was momentarily distracted by what looked like a pyramid of animals. He made a mental note to investigate if there was a festivity going on. That was not important as this conversation.

"Actually, that was your complete doing. You were doing the dirty work while I was playing your lookout. Nonetheless, I was guilty by association and father felt the need to punish the both of us." Scar corrected him. He lay down, overlooking the horizon. They sky had taken on a pale pinkish hue. Mufasa sat next to him.

"And even still, I can still hear you laughing." The red haired brother said gently. It was hard to imagine that there was once a warm countenance that graced his brother's angular and pointed features.

"I confess, at the time, I found it amusing. However, I must insist that the entire thing was done at your orchestration." Scar countered.

"Very, well. And I apologize for that too," Mufasa replied.

Scar scoffed.

"I wish you weren't so pigheaded." The brother with the golden pelt countered.

"I'll stop being pigheaded when you stop it with this charade. If a King wishes to be respected and saluted, he must come out of his shadows." Mufasa leaned down towards his brother who was looking away from him. "A caterpillar does not become a butterfly if it does not come out of its cocoon." Scar did not bother to find out if this was Mufasa's way of extending that bridge to reconnect. For all he knew, they were just sweet words to assuage the damage.

"No, it's too late. It's far too late for that," Scar huffed bitterly.

"And why do you say that? Not everything is absolute, Scar. The sun may shine down and give the land the light it needs, but too much can scorch the earth. Likewise, water may heal the earth of its dry crust, but too much will create floods and it becomes harder to hunt. If the elements are not absolute then I don't see why you can't change." Mufasa countered.

Scar turned and sneered at his brother.

Mufasa may have been a master at parables, but he could be so utterly blind to the bloody obvious.

"What happened between us cannot be mended in days or a certain number of moons. That is like trying to fix the gorge." Scar hissed bitterly. This was not something that occurred in a flash. It was a gradual process. Each transgression a scratch, a bark from a tree stripped. It had occurred so many times that they were no longer random markers. They were blurred lines criss-crossing. It had become a solid block with lines no longer criss-crossing.

"That is a completely different thing. That gorge took thousands of years. It existed before our father's fathers existed. You can mend this."

"Are you suggesting I am broken? Did it ever occur to you that I like where I am, Mufasa?" Scar countered angrily.

"If you did indeed feel comfortable then there is no reason to play this game, Scar. Haven't you had enough? And no, I am not saying you are broken. I am saying that this thing between us is broken. I am making an effort. I played my part. Now, it's your turn."

He had take control. This was Scar's game using his rules but the King countered. Proving him wrong was not saying 'I am better than you'. It just meant that some things no longer applied. He had made the effort to reconnect. He had pulled himself down from 'above', as Scar put it. It was not enough. It would never be enough and that was why he was always carrying this pent up frustration deep down inside.

"No, it's too late. It's far too late for that," Scar said finally.

Scar had drawn a line in the sand. He dared Mufasa to cross it.

"Well, should you ever change your mind, you know where to find me." Mufasa said finally.

Just then, the King was cut off by a sudden burst of smoke and bright colors. The two lions stood up, startled at the strange object that had broken their conversation. Smoke was coming out from its sides. The two brothers knew immediately that it was not dead. It squawked rather haughtily.

"Zazu?" Mufasa asked.

"SIRE! Oh, thank goodness! HELP! HELP!" The bird protested. His wings were flapping and his tail feather was on fire.

"Where is Simba?" The King prodded.

"HYENAS!" Zazu blurted out.

"WHAT?"

Scar stood up. Of course. The graveyard. Simba must have ignored his advice as he expected and now he was following along. By now, the hyenas should be picking them from their teeth.

"Hyenas! I was taking young master and his playmate to the watering hole when they caused a distraction. I managed to catch up with them in the graveyard and urged the boy that we must leave but he was having none!"

"The graveyard! No!" The King proclaimed anxiously.

"I warned him to stay away, brother," Scar pointed out.

"We don't have time to lose!" The King said frantically as he followed the bird.

Scar followed a few paces behind his brother, not out of concern but he wanted to find out himself if the plan did indeed work. He planted a seed in his nephew's little brain, knowing that he would eat up this delicious piece of surreptitious details he was not supposed to know. He knew that Simba was headstrong and would do anything to try and be like his father. The plan would have worked had that stupid bird not landed right between the two of them while they were having an in depth conversation.

And that was the crux of the problem: The bird.

As long as that bird was around, Mufasa would focus on duty and order. He would promise that he would extend his laurels to his brother but Scar knew that it would be temporary. Until then, he would be distracted by problems at the watering hole or have issues with the cheetahs and leopards about hunting grounds while he would fade in the background. If Mufasa was serious about equality then he would step down but he knew that was just a dream.

There was only one way to really get rid of the problem.

Mufasa was no longer a brother. He was no longer the playmate he once spent time with under the warm summer sun.

Mufasa was now an obstacle. He was an impediment that he had to be rid of.

Scar effectively cut off the sinew that bound him to his brother. Now, he was nothing more than an obstruction that was in the way of what was rightfully his.

Scar ignored his brother when Mufasa told him to watch the southern entryway. He found a perch where he knew that the hyenas would corner the cubs. He had watched the entire plan pan out. It was all so well timed and perfect until Simba let out that pathetic little roar.

"Oooh? That was it? Do it again, come on!" Shenzi mocked.

If only she did not waste time and finished him off then the plan would have worked but that she-devil was more concerned with taunting the little brat than having a quick and easy meal.

"SILENCE!"

The hyenas left with their tales between their legs.

Pathetic. Absolutely heinously pathetic.

It was dark by the time he had arrived. He knew they were by the geysers by the sound of Ed's obnoxious laughter.

"Man, that lousy Mufasa! I won't be able to sit for a week."

Although Scar knew that hyenas were not clever enough to pull off a whole scheme, he entrusted them to do his dirty work. It was his way of keeping his paws clean. They were crude, plain and unessential but when he needed a favor, especially one that he did not wish to be associated with in anyway, he knew that they would oblige, especially if the price was right. They were a necessary evil. He let them speak, rolling his eyes as they spat their simple observations towards anything that did not look like them. It wasn't until he caught wind of those offensive comments that he decided to make his presence known.

"Oh, surely we lions are not all that bad," he purred.

"Oh, Scar it was just you."

"Yeah, we thought it was someone important,"

"Like Mufasa."

The name stung at Scar's face like boiling acid.

"I see."

Scar never really saw the hyenas as ideal conversationalists. He only tolerated them because they were muscle, a means to an end. Nothing more.

He may not have been king on Pride Rock but down here, in the deep pits, he was ruler of this domain. He felt more at home amongst the geyser's green gases and hot geothermic rocky fortresses than in the warm shrubbery of Pride Rock. The brutes ate straight from his paw, almost quite literally. One of them even dared to ask him about their reward after that miserable display. Well, no use in spoiling some good meat.

"I don't think you deserve this."

Scar pulled out the piece of zebra leg his brother had given him.

"I practically gift wrapped those cubs for you. And you could not even dispose of them."

The symbol of what Mufasa wanted as an armistice was tossed it down to them. A gift he disposed of to be forgotten. Ignored. Trashed. The final cut to what tied them was devoured by the mangy brutes.

"You know, it wasn't exactly like they was alone, Scar." Their leader said with a mouthful.

"Yeah, what were we supposed to do? Kill Mufasa?" Subtlety was obviously not a word in their vocabulary.

"Precisely." Scar mused.