A/N: My interest in LK2 has been intact for the last thirteen years. Roughly - 1998. I always pondered why Kovu would go from being bad to good so easily. The concept intrigued me as a nine-year-old kid and I've decided to remake/model my own version.
I.
"Dad, wait up!"
Simba turned his head and smiled slightly as his three-month-old son chased after him. It wasn't really the king's fault, of course, the young lion was easily distracted by the most commonplace things. A frown crossed his muzzle as he recounted that the revival of all these creatures was just starting to thrive. Kopa perked his ears in his father's direction and scampered over to him. Grinning, Simba went into a play crouch and caught his son.
"Ha ha! Gotcha Dad!"
"Oh…" the lion leaned forward into the cub's face. "Is that right?"
They tumbled around for a bit before Simba got to his feet. "Come on now, Kopa. I have something that I want you to see." he started heading back towards the tall grass that was undisturbed by their wrestling session when he heard Kopa's gasp of surprise… and froze.
'Uh-oh.'
"Hey, dad. What's that place over there?"
Immediately - even as he tried to hesitate - Simba's mahogany eyes flew to the devastated sight of ashen Pride lands that had yet to grow back. Carcasses lay under dead trees and clouds that held unshed water hung as if to taunt the desolate earth. There hadn't been a tone of sadness or even remorse in his son's squeaky voice, just curiosity and intrigue. It was a subject Simba knew that Kopa would eventually broach to him but why did he have to explain such atrocities to his only child so early? Simba could never justify sending any living being to these ruins, let alone letting them live there. But he had to tell his son now.
"These… are the outer lands, Kopa. They lead to a place that Pride Landers don't go to."
"Oh." He said.
Simba tried not to let the child's excitement drain. "Come on, son. I want you to see this."
"The surprise?"
"Yep."
"You mean the surprise wasn't the outer lands?" Kopa piped up, trying to run ahead.
"Ha ha ha ha! Nice try!" Simba laughed as he guided his son with a bit more confidence.
~.~
The sun slanted down and filled the western sky in a complete radiance of orange and red.
'This is it…'
Kopa looked up as his father stopped and sat down at a strange indention in the ground. A few more yards would bring them within sight of Pride rock but the young prince knew in his heart that home wasn't the object of his father's attention right then. He moved a little closer to where the king's front toes ended and looked down to see the weathered indent.
"What is this, Dad?"
He took a moment to consider his words. "This is the paw print made by your grandfather the night before… he was killed, Kopa." the cub didn't react to this in the way he thought his father expected him to, instead he only hung his head solemnly and tried to understand.
"Why?" Kopa looked to see his father standing as still as a statue in the brilliant sunset.
"Your uncle Scar had a darkness in him, son. An evil. I don't know if he ever tried to do good in his life, but this evil was something your uncle couldn't escape from. In the end he was consumed by his anger and hatred. Destroyed. It was the very thing he'd used for power."
Kopa watched the ground as his and his father's shadows shifted with the shifting red orb, he looked up then; struck by inspiration. "Dad." His father turned to look down at him. "I don't think Uncle Scar was evil." Simba shook his head and said he couldn't understand.
"But, Dad, there had to be some good in him."
The young king sighed. "Don't worry about it, you'll realize the truth eventually."
The future prince, however, was not ready to stop worrying about it.
"You said that his bad feelings destroyed him…"
Simba looked slightly disturbed at this, "Yes," he reluctantly admitted.
"Then he was just like a fire." Kopa told him, moving onto a rock so that he was level with his father and the greening Pride lands. "And it would take something good and pure to put out that hate and anger fire, right? Lika a-," His father laughed and nudged him off the rock.
"I suppose," He said. "Let's get home, all right? I think I can smell a kill your mother's made."
"Hold on." Kopa quickened to move from in front of the rock and back over to the print.
"What're you doing?"
"Here." the cub pressed his own paw down into the exact print his father had made many years ago. "Now half of me we'll always be there." He jumped up and ran excitedly back to where his father was, only to stick his tongue out and race ahead. "Bet'cha can't catch me!"
"Oh, no." Simba chuckled and chased after him. "Want to-,"
A loud snarling sound was heard, followed by a shriek and a ripping noise.
"Kopa!"
~.~
The last rays of the vermilion sun dwindled down as a new shade of red was at Simba's feet.
To be continued…
~ Lavenderpaw ~