A/N: Why aren't I working on my other stories? Uh...this just came into my head?
Night had slowly and cruelly decided to claim the Pridelands. Instead of bringing it's usual orb of silver which radiated with a beautiful, emotional quality of hope, suffocating and penetrating darkness had arrived. It made the usually intimidating castle like tower of strong stone that was Pride Rock shrink and cower in fear. It covered the grasslands itself, the flimsy plants swaying hauntingly in the strangely icy breeze. The sound lingered in the air. It sounded scarily like a lion sighing, a lion cut down in his prime, a lion taking his very final breath, his very final taste of the Circle of Life.
But that had certainly already happened. Oh, yes. The King was dead. And that was why the Pridelands was so deathly silent for every single creature within it was experiencing some sense, however small, of horrific grief. The lionesses were the ones that almost bared the most heaviest burden of this unpleasant sensation. They were in the cold cave, either mourning or slipping into a sleep that gave them no sense of comfort whatsoever. However, the creature that the darkness had claimed the most was not asleep at all. The darkness had captured his heart and it kept him- forced him, punished him to stay awake. And he was the newly proclaimed King. The one who survived. The one who had plotted. The one that had chosen to kill.
He was sitting outside of the cave on the very tip of Pride Rock, far away from the others, as he had always been. He stared at the sheer blackness of the sky and how it made the stars shine even more brightly. But tonight, no, not tonight, did they bring any source of familiarity or peace- at least, not for him. He felt as if they were baring down on him like some fearsome predator; spiting him, mocking him, accusing him of everything.
The lion thought he was alone as he sat out there, lost in the journey and sheer complicity of his own thoughts but one had followed him. One who was perhaps not as lost as he was but she was still confused, hurt...most of all, confused. How could your best friend be living and breathing, joking with you in the morning and then gone in the same day? Nala had not shed a tear after Mufasa and Simba's deaths. This wasn't because she was trying to hold in her true feelings, far from it. She had decided that Simba: happy, go lucky Simba would hate for her to cry. He was always so full of energy and life, always on an adventure of some sorts, even it was only a simple trip to the waterhole... or it could be the complete opposite. The creamy furred cub shuddered slightly at the thought of the Elephant Graveyard.
She watched the back of the solitary lion with a vague interest. He was standing straight, tall and upright just like her mother always nagged at her to do. But for some reason, he didn't seem confident. He just didn't seem wholly sure of himself.
Nala did not know much about "Uncle Scar" as Simba used to fondly call him. The only thing she knew about him was whatever Simba told her and she only really had one fleeting snippet of information from him: "He's really funny!" he told her one hot day, giggling breathlessly as he tried to pin her, failing miserably all the while. Scar definitely did not seem to be in a "funny" mood right now.
Another blast of air that would freeze blood itself washed over her and she shivered, gasping quietly at the sudden cold. She froze, looking up at the lion. He glanced behind his shoulder and saw her crouching down there, as if that would hide her very presence from him.
"Sorry, I...I was..." But Nala couldn't think of a good explanation so her excuses slipped into the stillness of the night.
He sighed heavily, then surprised the female cub with his reply: "I don't bite, you know."
She frowned, puzzled but decided it was appropriate for her to sit beside him. It was like he had asked her to, without saying it directly. The mysterious green eyes surveyed her and she noticed his brow furrow as he searched for a name. She couldn't blame him for not knowing it, he'd never seen her before, not before tonight.
"Nala," she offered quietly, pointing an innocent, small paw at her chest.
He nodded curtly, seeming quite grateful. "Scar," he spoke softly.
"I know." She stopped as he stared at her, blushing in embarrassment at her words. She hadn't meant for it to sound so...blunt. "Simba told me, I mean," she continued.
He looked away quickly at that and Nala fancied she could hear his heart beat suddenly quicken. She glanced down at her paws, suddenly ashamed at how foolish she was. Yes, she had lost a best friend. This lion had lost a nephew and a brother. She couldn't begin to imagine how intense the emotions would be if you experienced such a tragedy. "I'm sorry," she said limply, knowing that was the second time she had uttered that meaningless word.
Scar looked down at her again and she was sure the most minuscule of smiles passed across his thin lips. "It's alright."
There was a pause but oddly, it was not an awkward one. The cub was reminded at how small she really was, compared with the Pridelands, at least. She enjoyed watching the stars wink at her kindly as they shone in the sky. She remembered about the Great Kings Of The Past and immediately set about choosing a star for the King and for his son. Nala finally settled on two of the most brightest stars around, that were almost linked together. That was how Simba and Mufasa were always seen: together. And then a very peculiar thought made its way to her- were Simba and herself ever seen as that? Together?
This was soon replaced by something much more important: a memory. She sat and felt like she was moving, journeying back to the Past, where she first found out about the stars and their ultimate significance. Sadly, the past was only yesterday, only a night ago. It was the complete opposite to this one. It was filled with warmth, of happiness... and it was the last time she felt complete...
It was a whispered conversation she had heard- just a short, seemingly unimportant one. The meaning behind it would stay with her forever, she had sworn that to herself, sworn it to Simba. Simba...he was the one that had started the brief conversation between, not a King and a Prince but a father and a son. It was a few hours after she had been sent home, following the whole hyenas incident. After Sarafina berating her, the lioness had softened for she had seen how distressed her daughter was about Simba. How he was "in trouble and it was all her fault."
Nala had stayed up, even when Sarabi, the great Queen herself escaped into a peaceful slumber. King Mufasa was never late when returning from any sort of duties- be it with Simba or with his Kingdom. How late he was increased the nervousness and the uncomfortable churning sensation in her stomach. Eventually, she heard the soft padding of a lion's paws and her heart leapt. She quickly closed her eyes, perfectly imitating sleep.
"Ssh..." a deep voice sounded within the cave and Nala was shocked at how it came across as being so mellow and calm. The last image of King Mufasa had been one of fury; she was sure that his almost scarlet eyes would be set ablaze with fire because of the strength of the rage burning inside them. She heard the King lie down on the ground. There was a period of quiet, then the voice of the cub she knew so well: "Dad?"
King Mufasa chuckled and the little cub heard him stifle a yawn. "Yes?"
"Do lions that aren't Kings stay in the stars, too?"
The Lion King sounded much more awake now as he answered the question, making Nala's interest grow. She longed to know more about...whatever it was the two lions were talking about. "Well, I don't really know, Simba. I'm not sure if I'm right..."
"Right about what?" Simba questioned. "You're always going to be right, anyway, Dad."
A louder chuckle emitted from King Mufasa but it quickly resumed a more hushed tone. "I try to see it like this," he explained. "If you truly act like a King- even if you're a cub, a lioness or not of royal blood at all, when you-" There was a break in the flow of the explanation and Nala was sure she heard the impressive King swallow. "When you die, if you've been...kind, you're going to be rewarded for it..." he finished, trailing off in some kind of wonder.
Nala sensed that Simba was just as confused as she was. She longed to open her eyes and hassle the King to say more but she felt reserved tonight. She did not move from her apparant sleeping position. Thankfully, Simba voiced exactly what she was thinking: "But, Dad, I don't get it. How do you truly act like a King?"
The young female cub automatically assumed that King Mufasa would reply, "By being like me." This wasn't because she thought of him as arrogant, she just knew that King Mufasa was one of the best leaders that the Pridelands had, she didn't need anyone else's opinion to tell her that. Her eyes snapped open for one second in mild shock at what the King said next. "I don't know, son. I honestly don't know."
Nala blinked, returning back to the present and deliberated about telling Scar what she had just remembered. Surely it would be nice for him to know, she finally reasoned, gulping before summoning up the courage to speak. "Your brother talked about the stars," she said carefully, hesitating on each word.
The lion's ears pricked up and he looked genuinely interested. "Did he?" he asked, almost as cautiously as herself. "What about them?"
So she began her short tale of events. Soon, she forgot that she was feeling unusually shy and her apprehension melted away as she realised that the new King wasn't ignoring her, not dismissing her as some naive cub. She even felt brave enough to point out the stars that she had chosen for Mufasa and Simba. But she witnessed the lion biting his lip as she told him that, so she dropped the matter. She finished on the very last line that the old King used and this quote caused what she was positive to be a flicker of fear to move over Scar's face.
"But, what about the Kings that have done wrong? What happens to them?" he said. There seemed a pleading note of desperateness in his voice and his pitch grew higher at his final word. The emerald eyes glittered in a hypnotic yet terrifying way.
"Um- I...I don't know," Nala stammered, not liking where this conversation was going at all.
She saw Scar's claws grip the rock base painfully. "They are punished," he whispered gravely to no-one, voice cracking strangely, "They are destroyed."
Nala's breath caught in her throat and she was suddenly frightened as she noticed how awful the abruptly thin lion looked. A scar which she hadn't really paid attention to before stood out prominantly on his left eye and she backed away, like she did when she was cornered by the hyenas. "Goodnight, Your Majesty," she said hurriedly, departing without a final glance back. This caused her to not see Scar visibly flinch at the words, "Your Majesty."
Her choice to leave was both wise and heart breaking at the same time. For she did not see the lion close his eyes, grimacing in pure agony, as if he had been brutally wounded. She did not see the heavens open and the rain that poured savagely from them and how he simply stood there, letting it soak and drench his pelt and his mane. She did not see him whisper into the night, five words that were filled with turmoil and regret: "Brother...what have I done?"
The dark green eyes shone even more brightly than the stars above did as he spoke. Let's just say that the large droplets of rain that streamed down his weary face concealed everything. It concealed the harshness of reality and of the bitter truth. Soon, a part of Scar would wither and die. It would die because he had to hide it. He had to hide it all.
Yeah, so that was quite different to what I usually write. It also gave me the chance to explore writing in a more old fashioned style.
Thoughts? Opinions? There's only one way I can get to find out about them... :)
EDIT:- "Your Highness" is now changed to "Your Majesty." Thanks Mirror's Mirrage!