Lightning sparked and sizzled as the dark-pelted lion stepped forward, a snide smirk on his thin, black lips. The thunder crackling in the clouds above gave out low rumbles, shaking the earth with each deep roar that echoed throughout the PrideLands. Wind rippled through Kovu's dark mane while he narrowed his emerald eyes, waiting for the king to let loose his loud, thundering roar of challenge, implying that he'd accepted the daring request from his son-in-law: a battle to the death. A battle for the throne; a battle for the lovely status of king. The prince-consort didn't want to be just a prince-consort. He wanted to be oh, so much more ... he wanted to be the king. How the lionesses would crowd him if he won this fight - oh, how they would grovel at the new king's paws. Oh, how they would swoon everytime he tossed them a carefree glance with his handsomely scarred eye. The roar of the (soon to be dead) king rang out through the lands. And Kovu just snickered, a nearly silent sound that was lost in the rumbling on the ground, the hissing of the flashing bolts of electricity, and the rushing force that blasted from the clouds, blowing anything in its path.
The king felt a chill run down his spine as he stepped out of the Pride Rock cave. Simba shook his mane, giving another roar; to which Kovu responded to with one of his own. A bold sound, a roar of challenge was rarely heard in the "peaceful" PrideLands. King Simba inhaled and exhaled precious sips of breath, as if they might've been some of his last. And the way Kovu was thinking, they very well were likely to be. After a few careful moments of silence, Simba finally spoke up, gulping down a breath before speaking.
"Are you ready, K - Kovu?" The king's voice trembled as he stepped forward, attempting to keep a solemn, hard expression. His eyes narrowed in contempt when he realized what he was going to have to do, if he wanted to keep his life and his kingdom. One of the two males wasn't going to return to Pride Rock in the morning. No matter what, one of them had to die - and the other walked away with the throne. Could Kovu really kill him? It was what the dark-pelted male had been trained to do; kill the King of the PrideLands. He probably knew all of the golden-pelted male's weaknesses and strengths ... after all, hadn't Zira known where Simba was weakest? She was his aunt ... his uncle's mate, the mate that Simba always feared. "... Kovu, I'm not looking too forward to this. I hope that something good comes out of this duel, no matter which one of us dies. May the best lion win!"
"Oh, I'm planning on it," Kovu murmured under his breath, letting the words be lost in the swirling winds. He smirked, repeating the last words that Simba had spoken ... "Oh, yes ... may the best lion win, Simba!" And then their battle began, at first beginning with the two lions circling each other, searching for a weakness as they stepped carefully. But soon they were delivering small hits, hardly drawing blood. Simba's cuts were hasty and quick, causing nothing but a mere, weak stab of pain for Kovu - stabs that were over in seconds. Kovu's slaps, on the other hand, were becoming larger and longer, making the elder lion stumble every time he was struck by the claws that had killed him in a nightmare once. "Age is not treating you well, King Simba," Kovu snickered, barely audible. "It's time a new reign began!"
With a single strike, the younger lion brought the older lion down to the earth, mud splattering the once beautiful golden pelt. His red eyes were unfocused, vision blurry as he gasped, the pain in the king's chest increasing as he was brought, rather suddenly, down to the dirty ground. He attempted to form small, simple words, but his gasps were blocking out all tries at speech. Kovu's lips curled in a smirk, forming the evil grin his adoptive father had bore all too many times. Memories were flowing at a steady pace in front of Simba's eyes - all of his uncle.
"I have news for you, old geezer," Kovu chuckled, pushing his paw onto Simba's throat. The old lion coughed and spluttered, failing to get a hold on his breath. He would be alive for only a couple of minutes longer. "Zira, Nuka and Scar are still alive ... even after you and your family thought that you killed them. Also, I have another bombshell to drop, I'm afraid ..." Harsh, cruel laughter filled the air as Kovu threw his head back, laughing without any humor. "Nala will be my mate, and her two daughters, Vitani and Kiara ... well, they'll always have room, won't they?" With those words lingering in the air, the young, agile lion scraped his claws against the neck he had been holding moments before, protected by a thick mane. The red fur was torn by fangs and claws easily - soon the golden pelt followed, and the king lay dead on the ground.
Kovu panted, exhilarated at his victory and last words before Simba died, passing on into the stars. A smile spread slowly on his bloody muzzle, crimson blood oozing down from it from the bites he'd dealt to Simba. Oh, what a lovely reign he'd have; with the ex-mate of Simba as his queen-consort.
Life was good.