THE SCARRED KING AND QUEEN NALA - Ch I
Full Summary - Title tells all. We all know (and you're getting pretty fed up with the fact) that Nala gets into a little trouble with Scar. Scar well... you could say proposes to her, and she rejects him in the worst way. Then of course, she flees never expecting to find what she did. Nala comes back with Simba, and they take over pride rock blah blah blah. And, according to Disney, as a cub Nala didn't want to marry Simba because, as she had said, "it would be too weird" to marry her best friend. But what if she had rejected him for a different reason? So here's the story of that, with a slight twist. Begins very oddly... but you'll catch on.
"As far as I'm concerned, there are plenty of songs, stories, and perceptions of not being loved. But I find none as comedic, quick, and well developed as Scar's."
- An Old Quote of Mine
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With many thoughts in minds non-too-intelligent, Timon and Pumbaa sauntered light-headedly out of the theatre on Broadway, and into the streets of New York City. They walked in silence toward their hotel for many minutes, before Pumbaa spoke.
"So, did you like it?" He asked, no enthusiasm in his voice.
The both of them were absolutely stunned.
"Yeah," Timon now perked up. "And, I of course did really great."
Pumbaa nodded, thinking over what his friend's decision.
"Well, sure, we did pretty good. But there was something else too," Pumbaa said, hinting at an opinion of his own.
"Oh? Well ya got a point, Simba was pretty good too," Timon said, still missing the point.
"No no no, that's not what I mean. Weren't there any other scenes you liked?" Pumbaa asked, beginning to sound exasperated.
"Not really," Timon admitted with a shrug.
Pumbaa sighed. "I think I liked the part where Scar's king and he tries to get Nala." His voice was testy, tentative in thought Timon would disapprove.
"Oh. Yeah, that was pretty funny," Timon thought, nodding in agreement.
"So you liked that part, eh?" A voice asked.
Timon and Pumbaa, baffled, looked about.
"Down here," with sudden astonishment, Timon and Pumbaa grasped that a worm was speaking to them!
"You'd like my book."
The worm wiggled off. But at their feet was a book. Timon struggled to pick it up, stumbling over immediately. "Ack! I can't read this! I can't even pick it up!"
"And I can't read. I can't even spell! But I know someone who can —"
"Simba," they said together.
So they made their way back to the hotel.
"Simba! Can you read this to us?" they asked in unison, when Pumbaa handed it to Simba.
"Why?" Simba chuckled.
"Because," Timon answered just as Pumbaa was begging, "Please?"
"Well, ok," Simba shrugged.
'Nala was a lovely young lioness, and future queen to pride rock. And she was betrothed to the future king, who was called Simba. Nala, however, had other ideas of future marriage. She only wished to find the perfect mate. One perhaps who she'd seen all her life, but only now appealed to her. If it met these requirements, whom in particular did not matter. And one day, she came upon her chance.
At the age of twelve, her best friend Simba and his father King Mufasa had died in a wildebeest stampede.'
"What!" Simba screamed. "I did not die in that wildebeest stampede!" He proclaimed.
"Stop your whining and get on with it," Timon said, slapping Simba playfully.
"Fine, fine."
'Now, Mufasa's brother Scar was owner of the throne.'
"They say that like they mean it! Like it's a good thing! Ugh! Scar was the worst king ever to rule pride rock!" Simba would not give up.
"Hurry up."
Scar, once Taka, stared at the clouds parting away to see the stars and moon.
"I suppose I'll be one someday," he hated to think of death.
He knew one day, it would come. Honestly, all the young lion hoped was that he'd have a chance as king of pride rock before that. And, in the back of his mind, the evil thought he'd have a chance to do away with his father and brother.
The young lion lay in the grass. He had long since given up the idea of sleeping with his father, Ahadi, and his brother Mufasa. They were simply too against his presence. Not that such mattered to Scar. He was perfectly happy as a loner. All he wanted was to be king. But, if all went smoothly, that wouldn't happen for quite a time.'
"Are we reading the right book?" Timon asked.
"I don't know," Simba shrugged.
"Are you sure you didn't pull So To Speak off the shelf, instead?"
"No, Scar wrote that. In first person."
There was a brief moment of awkward silence.
"Oh, here we are."
' "EEEAAUUGGHH!" Scar pulled himself out of the dreadful flashback.
He forced himself to remember, he was the king. The king. It was a dreadful thought, and he could hardly imagine it's truth, but all the same... it was indeed the truth and to be fulfilled. He heard a knock on the rocks that were the 'door' to his 'throne room.'
"Yes?" he peered outside, darting his eyes about.
"Scar!" A young voice said.
Scar gave a sigh. "Yes?"
"Down here."
Scar looked down to see Nala. Nala looked up at Scar. His mane was a mess, under his eyes was a shade of burgundy in his tire, his nose was hugely overgrown from his outbursts, and he looked positively exhausted. His scarred eye was far expanded and a shade of dark blue, and Nala could see large amounts of blood oozing from a foreleg, held high above the other of its kind.
"What are you doing here?"
"I uh, I - I"
"Go away! Get out of my sight, I never want to see you again!" Scar spat.
Nala shrieked in fear and the young lioness fled.
"That went well," Nala thought. "Ah well. Probably he's just mourning over Mufasa's death."
Nala sighed.
But hadn't he gotten over that yet? Recalling her own feelings on the matter, she added; at least, enough not to sob all day and all night?
"Or maybe he's just not feeling up to snuff. I can understand that. Yeah, that's got to be it."
Scar moaned.
"Ooh! Visitors, visitors, visitors!" He knocked his long lion head against the rock wall of the cave.
"Didn't anyone ever tell you what will happen if you continuously bang your head on a hard surface?" Zazu accused, from inside his cage of bones.
This did not do Scar any good, for it only increased his anger. "What?" he exclaimed, "are you suggesting that you see something wrong with me, or what I'm doing?"
"Well, yes. I mean, look at yourself Sire! You look like you just emerged from a thirty-three-degree water pond!" Observing his dry appearance, he added, "uh — without the water."
"Is that an insult? Do you dare insult your king?"
"No Sire!" Zazu pleaded, mock-dissmissing the thought. "I - I mean, there's loads of good looking uh..." he thought for a moment of a worthy description, "drowned... rats?"
Scar roared. He would not hear this without a complaint. "How dare you!" He screamed.
"Please Sire, stop that! It's hard enough to deal with you when —"
"What!" Scar demanded. "Hard to deal with me! How dare you suggest such a thing!"
"See there, it's happening already! If you keep banging your head like that, soon all your brain cells will be gone! You'll be dumb!" Zazu explained.
"Dumb! How dare you speak to me that way!"
Yes, it was that simple. Nala had been absolutely right. Their king had gone completely mad. And between the screaming, making the 'stressed' expression, banging your head on the wall, and having a so many of the 'dreadful' flashbacks, I think you'd look and act a little like that as well.