Under the Stars
I don't actually own any of these characters, but I do own their personalities; particularly Sarafina's. Because every character's personality was only a seedling in the original "Lion King" story.
You wouldn't believe how addicted to "At the Ballet" from "A Chorus Line" I was when I wrote this. As I attempted to think of a fic to write, I was listening to it hours on end. It got me to thinking; where was "everything beautiful" in Nala's world? First I thought of "Pride Rock," the classic "Lion King" excuse; but no! Under the stars -- under the watch of her best friends. And like Sheila, Bebe, and Maggie said -- "it wasn't paradise, but it was home."
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I couldn't talk lovingly about my parents like Simba, or Mufasa, or even Sarabi could; I could only talk of my mother. For I never knew my father. My mother told me he was the cause of his own death; but it was a lie. Scar told me he was my father; but that was a lie too. The answer was simple; I didn't have any father whatsoever.
And so when my best friend perished to live with the Kings; all I had to comfort me was the stars. My father was nearly non-existent, my mother just didn't understand. So day after day I'd wait for sunset, so I could just lay there looking at the stars for hours on end. I'd usually go way out to the other end of the Pridelands, far from the trouble of the rest of my life. That was a special spot; and nothing could stop it from being lush and precious. For it was the best view I could get of my friends without fearing. Any closer and I'd see skeletons.
Yes... skeletons. The thing I feared most. And I don't mean the kind of skeletons you see at Halloween -- silly, gaping mouths. I mean real skeletons. The skeletons I saw every day; of eaten animals, and of the starved to death. And the skeletons I could see gaping out of every minion. Every hyena, every lioness, every gazelle, zebra or cheetah. And King Scar, too. The skeletons that were everywhere -- those skeletons were the thing I feared most.
But under the stars; under my friends, everything was beautiful. I could stare for hours, admiring, adoring, just plain loving it. Everywhere I looked, under the stars, I saw someone I loved. Every no-longer-living lion in the world was up there; and just think of how many of them looked down at me with the same loving and curious eyes as I looked at them.
The world is not the same. Looking up at the stars, I could be sure that everyone loved me; while here, it seemed just the opposite. Under the stars, I was welcome, whereas here, I felt alone. Here, I could sit anywhere, and no one would ever notice me. I'd be neglected, ignored, almost hated.
Particularly by those minions of Scar. I fear them, like hell you bet I do, but more than that I hate them.
But under the stars, I could forget. I could become a part of my own little world. Maybe it wasn't great, like a wonderful worriless world as the one Simba must be living in now, but it was the closest I could get. Under the stars was my home.