The Madness Of King Scar

The day had been long, hot, and dull as Scar meandered through his dying kingdom. The whispers heard back at Pride Rock were too much for the monarch to bear. He was certain they were talking about him, each and every one of them, and it infuriated Scar. After all he had done for them, keeping the lionesses safe, as well as the cubs.. Well, some of the cubs. Others were not so fortunate. The king had failed to mourn the loss of two of his own, and though the Pridelanders were disgusted, they were not surprised. Scar's attitude towards his own family was horrific, save for the few that he had taken a liking to. The rest of the pride stood little chance.

Ahead of the russet lion was the winding path of the Kube River. During the wet season, the sound of the river rushing by could be heard from a mile away. But during the never-ending heat and the drought, there was nothing, not even mud. Near the dry bank, he caught sight of a lioness, and wondered who it might be. Bright green eyes narrowed as he tried to make out the figure, already turning himself in her direction. The hunting party was out today, but this one was not among them. The dark king stepped closer, and soon found that it was Nala, who normally made herself scarce. After her mother's banishment, the creamy lioness had been especially absent.

"Nala," he called out as he approached. "I am surprised to see you out here. The others are out searching for food, but instead of joining them, here you are. How curious." His tone was low, mocking. "Do you care to explain, Nala?" Her name rolled of his tongue fluidly. It was a lovely name, and Nala had become a lovely young lioness. But then, Nala looked too much like her mother for Scar's tastes, after everything that had transpired between the two older lions. Looking at the daughter of Sarafina, Scar felt the same contempt that he had developed towards the elder. Worse than that, if Simba were still alive, it was entirely probable that Nala would be the queen. This thought caused Scar to sneer, and he moved closer to the lioness, eyes demanding and calculating.

The Kube River used to be a marker of strength of the Pridelands. It was farther from Pride Rock, acting in many places as a boarder between Pridelands and others. Even in dry seasons the river had always flowed, even if only a trickle, only ceasing when blocked by fallen trees. But now, in this seeming unending drought coming with Scar’s reign, the river had turned to dirt. Nala stared down the bank, claws digging into the earth. She had had enough. This was their last source of water, and even the hoofed animals that dug down into the river bed could find nothing. How long would they all last now? A few weeks at best, perhaps even less due to the heat pressing in all around them. Even if the lioness had known, she would never believe that lands away, across the savanna, two lions were swimming in a deep cool lake while she kicked at a dry dirt clod.

Staring out over the savanna, Nala’s eyes narrowed. This was it, something had to happen. She had rallied as much help as she could, sending out messages across the boarders to other creatures, the tale of Scar’s tyrannical reign reaching all the way to the Desertlands hopefully. But she was not sure what else to do. They needed to move the pride, most of the others had moved on by now, the Pridelands abnormally quiet in result. But Scar would never give up Pride Rock, never go outside the security of the familiar, not for anyone’s sake. So was this it? Would they all starve in the shadow of their home? Was no one courageous enough to stand up to Scar and actually make a difference this time? So many had already been lost or banished, including her mother. Nala wanted to remain loyal to her pride, to help them through this hardship, but the longer she stayed the more she began thinking her place was elsewhere.

Especially now. ”Nala,” an unmistakable voice called out. Her muscles tensed and for a long moment she didn’t care to look at him. She hated seeing his face. Hearing his snide voice, being in his presence at all. When she was just a cub, years ago, the small, russet lion did little more than creep her out. But Simba had liked him, so Nala never complained. Simba thought his uncle was funny, that he could help him when Mufasa was busy with his kingly duties. But if Simba could only see his uncle now.

Nala hated the way Scar said her name, the same way he had been since she had matured enough for his tastes. It was one of the reasons she refused to linger around the rest of her pride anymore, though it seemed after whatever transpired between her mother and him had managed to make the sight of Nala herself displeasing to the king. It was small, but a blessing nonetheless. She would hate to end up like Heshima, the poor girl.

She finally glanced back at the lion, eyes hard. “I was searching for water. The watering hole is less than a puddle, and no lion wants to return there anyway after what happened.” Nala replied, not a complete lie. She had been hoping to meet other lions or hyenas whose loyalties lied away from the Pridelander’s King, but finding water was still a high priority. What happened to Scar’s sweetest cub was a tragedy, even for a spawn of the king’s. She hadn’t deserved what had happened to her, and probably would’ve grown to be a wonderful lioness, and queen even, if only Scar had been more mindful and less selfish.

“Though I am surprised to see you here as well. Have nothing better to do then wander in a dry riverbed? Or is the king finally sick of his palace?” She sneered right back. Perhaps antagonizing the lion was not the best idea, but Nala was done playing into his paws, being a good little lioness who followed her king’s every command blindly. Scar didn't deserve such loyalty, and in Nala's mind he never did. Besides, she felt she had very little to lose anymore.

The dark, dusty pelt of the lion jerked at the mention of the water hole, and his face contorted into a scowl. For a long minute, he said nothing, only glared into Nala's soft green eyes with a loathing that could not be expressed. Finally, he cleared his throat and regained his compsure, standing taller than ever. His black mane heaved over his chest as he inhaled and exhaled sharply, as if trying to control emotions that had already been lost for good. "Come now, Nala. Do you wish to meet the same fate as your mother?" His voice was grave and serious, though a hint of amusement was present in his hateful eyes. "Or, worse yet... Your brother?"

It was a low blow, and spoke volumes about the king's present state. It was as if Mheetu had not mattered at all to the lion, who had always half doubted the paternity of the uniquely pale cub. Mheetu had been a sore subject for Scar, but after so many months had passed since his supposed death, the cruel lion had found ways to comfort himself. He now believed the lost prince was not his blood at all. Mheetu had not looked like Scar, he had said from the start. There was no telling what Sarafina was capable of, the lies and distortions she could have conjured up when she became pregnant with the cub. True enough, Scar had seduced her months before the male cub's arrival, but that did not mean she had been loyal to her king.

If there was one thing Scar could not have, it was lionesses with a wandering eye. They were to be his and his alone. He knew for a fact that the cream colored lioness before him was not his own flesh and blood, which meant Sarafina had given in to another male years before Mheetu. Nala was reminiscent of her mother in her younger days, when Scar had been someone else. In a way, she was the last living remnants of young Taka's first love - an innocent lioness, before Nala's conception, before Scar became the monster now standing beside the strangled river.

Ebony nostrils scented the breeze. The lioness, as insolent as she was, still held some appeal to the disgusting old brute. "Dear Nala. Why must we quarrel? We both know the rains will return to the kingdom soon enough." Now, he dared to pad closer to the lioness. His eyes explored her matured body with a new interest before returning to her face. Suddenly, he was smiling his sick, twisted grin. He didn't stop his slow approach. "My, how you've grown. Where does the time go?" Standing directly before the lioness, he offered another sneer, waiting to see if she would back away or stay firm.

Nala faced his loathing head on, letting his rage boil but sensing he would still do nothing -- as he had times before -- and glared in return. Lecturing the unworthy king on how to raise his own cubs, or what was left of them anyway, would do no good she was sure. She hadn’t meant the statement as any kind of blow, merely a fact and reminder that once again his poor choices were leading them all to death. But he composed himself soon after, trying to look as regal as the blood flowing through his veins, but if you asked Nala his blood may as well have been dirt. At the mention of her mother, the lioness froze. Sarafina had been banished, as many others, before Nala could do anything to help. Despite her attempts to reason with herself that there was little she could do, the guilt still gnawed at her. Even worse when Scar reminded her of her younger brother. At the mention of Mheetu, an unfamiliar rage built up inside her that took a gorge-full of will to control. “How dare you... Mheetu is no pawn to be used as a threat--” she growled lowly, muscles twitching slightly.

Nala had been more or less absent for the past year and a half. She avoided the king, the hyenas, the lionesses loyal to and fawning over Scar -- even her mother at times. The pride just as much as Pride Rock had weighed too much on the young lioness, so she was more than happy to task herself with finding help and other food and water sources to get away from it all. Perhaps if she had been more present, if she had focused on her pride and not hypothetical help, none of this would have happened. Mheetu would not be missing or dead, whichever he was, and maybe she could have talked some sense into her mother, who seemed sure Scar could be pulled back from the brink of insanity. Nala did not think quite as highly of the old lion, even less as he continued manipulating and using even his own children for his own needs.

Swallowing her dangerous desire to attack Scar outright -- knowing hyenas were sure to leap out of the shadows and fell her, even if she could take the old lion in a one on one fight -- Nala steadied her voice. “My fate is my own to decide.” Even though that too seemed false. If the rains did not come soon, it would not matter what she or any other Pridelander wanted. Perhaps if they could move on from Pride Rock, migrate to find another source... Nala glanced at the dry riverbed again, frowning. Mossy green eyes returned to Scar’s with a hardness. “You see the dirt we stand on. I imagine you like to think your life is in your own paws as well,” she started, trying to restrain her annoyance to sound reasonable. “There’s no more water near Pride Rock. Even most of the herds have left. We should follow them before it’s too late.”

But soon the dark maned lion got a dangerous spark in his eyes and started once more in a silky but repulsive tone to the lioness. It seemed her previous thoughts were wrong -- despite her similarities to Sarafina, Nala was young, strong, and a beauty of the Pridelands, one currently under the hold of the Pridelander pride. No doubt Scar thought that made her his to do with as he pleased, as he had with others. She was nauseated at the way his eyes roamed her form while he padded closer, slowly encroaching in on her personal space. Her claws brandished on instinct, but her paw was stayed at the thought of the hyenas no doubt watching them. She could make no attack if she valued her life. “What are you doing?” She asked the obvious as a threat, narrowing her eyes.

The lioness stood her ground, glaring at the lion who stood far too close. “The time must’ve fled just as the rains did when you took up kingship.” She snarled, unable to hold her tongue back anymore. She had been cautious for too long, been intimidated by his houndish minions, and was about as sick of that as she was of him. “Don’t come any closer, Scar.” Nala said lowly, a growl rumbling from deep in her throat.

The subject of the fallen prince was dismissed with the careless wave of a paw, and his ebony claws glinted in the sunlight. What did he care if Mheetu was gone? Nala had only one brother, while Scar had numerous sons. "Mheetu is dead because of your mother. His death is not my fault. But there are others, of course, Kifu and Nuka. My legacy has already been secured. If only others had had the foresight to have more than one cub," he said cruelly, referring of course to his dear departed brother and nephew. Perhaps his boys were not the strongest lions, but they were princes regardless, and Scar had false confidence that one or the other would reign when his time was done. The words were meant to sting, and his sharp eyes seemed amused at his own callousness. He wanted to hurt the lioness in every way imaginable.

An echoing laugh escaped at the lioness as if her suggestion was absurd. None of the others had dared to suggest that the pride should relocate, and the thought was ridiculous to the king. What was a king without territory? It was the land of his ancestors, and it was his land to do with as he pleased. "And where would we go? Hmm? Since there are so many kingdoms waiting for whole prides with open arms, where should we begin?" Everything about the lion was patronizing, from his tone to the look of scorn he cast down at his subject. "As long as I am king, I am in charge, but I don’t control the weather, contrary to what you may believe."

The lioness questioned why the brute approached, and again he laughed at her perceived naivety. Eyes rolled upwards when Nala accused him of having a part in the lack of rain the kingdom had experienced. He was a god only in his own twisted mind, but he had no powers, and what control he still grasped desperately was slipping through his claws like sand. The hearts and minds of the pride were hardened to their king, no sympathy, no understanding. Only complaints.

This was not why Scar became king. God or not, he still deserved the power he had inherited. Whether or not Nala liked it, her fate was no longer in her paws, as she would soon learn. The pale lioness began to growl, and it pleased the dark king far more than a purr would have. When a lioness resisted, she made herself all the more desirable to the sick lion. His appetite for them had faded, but one final time, he glanced over Nala. His lioness, for as long as she remained in the Pridelands.

He glanced down to notice her claws were ready, waiting for his move. Now he was no longer in the mood to fight, but it was clear Nala would resist. She had always been a strong one. How could he resist such a challenge? "Come, sweet Nala. You know how I loathe violence." His whiskered chin was close to her ear as he murmured, ever ready for her to turn on him, but not willing to back down. The dark tip of his tail brushed against Nala's flank. "One way or another, you will be mine."

The longer she remained here with Scar, the harder it became to keep herself from ripping his throat out. He spoke of his own children like tools, which did not surprise Nala, as she had known his views of others were skewed at best, but Scar’s blatant disregard for his children and their fates, as well as the jab at Mufasa was infuriating. The reminder of her lost prince only managed to further anger her, the pain swallowed deep inside for a later time. “It doesn’t matter how much foresight or how many cubs you have, Scar. Neither you nor your legacy will matter in the end. Droughts do not see any difference between lion and ant, nor royal and common blood.” And the end seemed near. The entire pride were teetering on the edge of skin and bones and the rains and herds didn’t seem to be coming any time soon. Dehydration would kill the noble and pathetic alike.

The lion’s laugh grated on her ears, his tone insulting as he shot down her concerns. “Anywhere, anywhere but here where the land is dying. Perhaps relocating during such a dire situation would’ve been easier had you created pacts with neighboring kingdoms like a wise king.” Her tone switched from pleading to snappish in seconds, tail twitching angrily. No, no lion controlled the weather, but the land was still linked with the king. Should the king be unworthy at any point during his reign, it was believed the land would let it be known. Had Scar not been hiding behind his pack of hyenas, the Pridelanders would’ve run him off years ago. “Control, no. But there is such a thing as precautions. This foresight you claim to have seems to reside far from your head.”

Trying to maintain her cool, Nala clenched her jaw and dug her already exposed claws into the dirt. She had to be reasonable if she expected him to see reason himself. “Please, listen Scar,” she forced her tone higher, knowing how much he enjoyed begging. “We’re being forced to over hunt, but there’s still a chance for things to be all right again. If we can conserve food and follow the herds, give the land some time to regrow... just stop the hyenas from destroying the Pridelands.” But it was clear he was tuning her out, eyes focused everywhere but her glowering eyes. Scar leaned in close, speaking lowly into her ear, his tone pressing her as if encouraging the hate growing inside her. She had carefully controlled it before, not wanting to linger on such negative emotions. But he just continued to push her until the moment she would snap. “One way or another, you will be mine.” His voice was dark and possessive, and Nala knew in his eyes, she was already his.

And snap, she finally did.

“Never.”

Her claw returned to the ground with bloodied tips before Nala had realized what she had done. Had anyone ever struck the king before? Had they lived to tell about it? But she couldn’t help herself, the way he had intruded in on her space, the way he spoke about her brother and Simba, the way he expected she would ever let him touch her. Her tail flicked threateningly, the brief flash of fear from her actions falling back into annoyance. She lowered slightly, muscles tensed as she awaited retribution with burning eyes. “Any closer, and I’ll personally send you to Mufasa.” The lioness did not truly have a death wish, as much as it sounded otherwise, but if this was what it came down to she would go down fighting. But some strange whisper inside her mind told her she could not let herself meet the same fate as her late king, that she had more to do. Her mind suddenly switched from offense to defense, thoughts of where she could escape to rushing through her head. She could leave the Pridelands, finally take that step she had been avoiding for years -- but first Scar would learn that being a king did not keep one from rejection or pain.

At first, Nala's anger was entertaining enough for Scar. He enjoyed the subtle looks of upset that flashed upon her pale features, and her words of warning were easily ignored. None of the others dared to challenge Scar, and the dark king did not appreciate having to defend himself or his reign, and the irritation returned to his face. The king's word was final. Who was Nala to question? "Droughts end. I still have more cubs than my brother." The last word was spit out with unabashed hatred. "When my father was king, there was a drought, before you were born. No one blamed Ahadi for the weather then! Why am I to blame?" His tone was irritating and pleading, and he inadvertantly looked upwards to the bright blue sky above. It simply wasn't fair, in his mind, that he should be so hated when his father and brother were beloved. He scowled when nala suggested he was not a wise king for never forming allies, but his neighbors loathed Scar as well. "The pride will not be leaving. The Pridelands are my kingdom. We will die before we leave." The harsh expression on Scar's face proved that he meant it: he would rather be dead than give up his land, and he had no qualms about dragging the rest down with him.

Nala now looked angry enough to attack, but the king didn't think she had it in her. She had been a pride lioness her entire life, and what pride lioness would willfully leave her home? But finally, Scar's words struck a final nerve. He barely saw the attack, it happened so quickly, it was merely a flash of tawny fur. Then a burning sensation. For a lingering, anxious moment, Scar appeared to be stunned by the brazen attack. A paw rose to brush against his cheek, and blotches of crimson stayed the tan fur. Jade eyes fell upon the stained paw, then shifted slowly, menacingly towards the lioness. "I warned you. Violence against the king cannot - will not be tolerated." Already, hyenas were beginning to swarm around the arguing lions. Scar could see at least a dozen out of the corner of his eyes, and he knew that was enough. Nala had always been a tough cookie, but even she could not take on the hyenas and Scar at once. They were too far from the Pride Rock, and apparently too far for any of her pride sisters to come to her aid. "You all belong to me!" Finally, his body shuddered with rage. His eyes blazed with indignant fury, and he lurched forward. The lion's shoulder rammed into Nala, making contact with her chest in an attempt to knock her to the ground.

But the second the lioness was down, the hyenas would be unable to keep their distance. Whatever Scar had in mind for the lioness was instantly forgotten as the maniacal laughs of the beasts filled the air. The hoards were never far, and within seconds, the landscape was alive with the slinking forms of countless hyenas. The throaty, cruel laugh of the tyrant king soon joined the chorus, and he gave Nala a final look of contempt as he stepped back. "Tell Mufasa I said hello. Oh, and Simba too." Russet coat melted into a sea of gray and black, slobber and stench, until the lioness was nearly surrounded. A command of Get her! was heard above the fray.

And so the chase would begin. Scar would not even bother to ask if Nala had survived when the sun set that day, for even if she did, he was certain he would never see the defiant lioness ever again. Unfortunately for him, his taunt about Simba would prove to be an eery predication once Nala strayed beyond the Pridelands, but Scar had no way of guessing his reign would come to an abrupt end. Soon.

Perhaps had Scar not spent the entire conversation throwing barbs and attempting to seduce her, Nala may have felt some sympathy for the older lion. For a moment as he spoke of his father, she could almost see the pained cub in him. All blame for their troubles had been cast onto him, and in some sense Nala could understand the unfairness of it all. But the truth of it was his selfishness and inaction made all of their lives worse, where a better king would’ve been trying to solve the situation rather than banishing lionesses left and right and sulking around his lands while they all shriveled up. The ounce of pity for the king was rectified as soon as he vehemently spat his order. “Then die we will,” Nala scowled, understanding arguing was useless.

Nala didn’t regret her strike, even when his eyes bored into hers and the hyenas swarmed, the lioness felt the attack as a long time in coming, and only wished she could do more damage. Perhaps she would’ve, she could’ve fought through the hyenas to tear at Scar for all he’d ever done and said, for the way his neglect has ruined the land and his own children. She would’ve died in battle, and she would’ve been content -- except she wasn’t. Nala’s heart screamed to cease this warrior’s fantasy and humble herself to flee. If she wanted to live, that was her only option. She couldn’t take on a whole pack of hyenas, not even the strongest lion could do so alone, and her pride sisters were too far to even know what was going on.

Scar lunched for her with surprising force, causing her to stumble, and for a horrible moment Nala thought this was it -- Scar would take her then let the hyenas devour her. But the hyenas couldn’t wait and suddenly the entire landscape seemed to darken with their skulking forms, distracting Scar from any other intentions. Her blood ran cold as hordes of hyenas came for her, any lion’s nightmare, but she swallowed the fear and let hot anger take its place as Scar spoke for one last time, adding his own laugh to the chorus.

Nala leapt to her paws, lurching forwards with snapping jaws to get one last blow at the unworthy king, but was immediately blocked by two hyenas who snapped right back. The land exploded with motion, all aimed at her, and Nala was forced to flee. She overtook the landscape with powerful strides, hyper aware at the hyenas that closed in on all sides, running and dodging and swiping until she was heaving.

She didn’t know where Scar had disappeared to, and only hoped he remembered her attack, one in a series that would soon trigger further blood-spill. Nala was not sure what was in store for her now, where she would go or how she would survive, only lead by a strange contentedness that this was right, that this was the path she was supposed to take.

But she would return. Nala would not abandon her pride to rot under Scar’s paw. She would not see the land dead and shadowed forever. She would find help, somewhere, somehow; and she would return.