THE SCARRED KING AND QUEEN NALA Ch II
Meanwhile, Nala was back in the grasp of her mother. Sarafina was bathing her, the lioness's sandpaper-like tongue brushing upon her daughter's pelt.
"So, how did it go with King Scar?" Sarafina asked, her voice muffled for her mouth was filled with tan hairs. The lioness sneezed, causing the fibers to billow upon all the other members of the pride; who in turn made disgusted faces and turned their backs to Sarafina.
"Not so well," Nala said.
"Oh, really? Why not, honey?" Sarafina asked, her tongue taking another swipe at Nala's back.
"He told me to go away," Nala said, sulking.
"Oh, honey, well, you'll have to get used to that; I'm afraid that's how King Scar is."
"How can you say that?" Asked young Nala, standing and backing from her mother. "You act like it's no big deal that our ruler doesn't even care about Mufasa and Simba's death, and instead is making room for his pig hyena friends!"
Sarafina sighed. She knew there was no way to make her daughter understand her cool, casual attitude towards the situation. If Nala knew the truth, Sarafina knew her daughter would never forgive her. "Forget it, honey." And so instead, she chose to walk away.
Sarafina knew it was pointless to fret over it; her relationship with Scar was all a part of the past. But really was it? The proof of their love walked among them! Nala would never forgive Sarafina if she found out that she had feelings for a madman... even if that madman were Nala's father, which indeed he was.
How could she explain to young Nala that she had feelings for Scar? Sarafina knew that this would only make Nala depict her as a hypocrite; as a cold-hearted villain, even.
But that night, Nala asked the dreaded question. As lioness and cub drew near to each other, smiling into one another's eyes, Nala's maw parted away for her to ask the dreaded question.
"Mom?" She asked. "Who was my father?"
Sarafina sighed. "Well Nala, your father was a very kind lion. A very kind lion, gone wrong."
"Really?" Nala asked, "how so? What do you mean, Mom?"
"Well, deficiencies in his life led him to fatal decisions, that sooner or later got the hold of him."
Nala thought that over for a long while, before asking another question of her father. "What did he look like?"
By this time, Nala had sat up, and was ready to bolt again. At this moment, however, she had no interest in bolting, only in hearing about the father she never knew.
Sarafina sighed again. Finally, she answered, "well, he had a dark complexion... rather small and skinny actually, but no matter. Not particularly attractive, and he knew it. And that just made him more charming. He had a darker mane than that of Mufasa, and pretty, huge green eyes."
"Well then, if it wasn't his appearance that made you so wild for him, what was it?"
Sarafina shrugged. "We'd been friends since cubs, after he saved me."
"Saved you from what?"
"From starvation. Anyway, we were friends... and soon, too many drinks... and soon I found myself pregnant with you."
"Really?" Nala asked.
Sarafina nodded. "We had not announced our marriage to King Mufasa. For your father was an outlaw, because he was male. I was afraid he would kill us all."
"Is he still alive, Mom? Does he still live with the pride?"
Sarafina pondered the question for a long while. Finally, she answered, "no. No honey, he's dead."
"What happened to him?"
What to answer to that question? "It was suicide."
"Oh," Nala knew the term suicide, but rarely was it a part of vocabulary in the Pride Lands. It saddened her that her own father had so many problems in life that he himself had brought the term to life. And then, she asked a final question. "What was Dad's name?"
What would save Sarafina now? If Nala knew the name, she would know it all. Until now, Sarafina had told only the truth. How could she remain to tell the truth, and still please Nala? "Kivuli," she said. "His name was Kivuli."
That night, Nala was up late after hours. She had been drifting toward the area of sleep, and then her thoughts turned to Simba. Tears drew in her huge eyes, and she furiously pushed them away with a paw. "Don't cry over the dead," she told herself.
She remembered a conversation with Simba, one night under the stars. The last conversation she ever held with Simba. The two cubs had been fondly discussing their future. Simba had told her so many things, that night.
"You know, Nala?" He had asked her, "when I'm king, I'm gonna treat you the best. You're always gonna be my top priority. I'll always put you up top. Whenever we're in trouble, I'll talk to you. Whenever we're running out of food, I'll make sure you get fed first."
"Really? You'd do that, for me? Why?"
Simba had shrugged. "Because... I love you."
At the time, Nala had scoffed, and teased Simba for his adverse narration. But now... how she understood exactly what Simba meant, that night under the stars. "I love you too, Simba," she said now, tears engulfing her eyes.
She remembered, that that night under the stars, she had vowed never to marry a soul but Simba. Never to love a soul but Simba. And so, that night, she vowed never to marry. "In memory of you, Simba, I shall never marry."