CandyLuv99; I don't think Scar realized it or care. Either way he's in some deep mess.

Another warning, sorry for any tears. Here's chapter thirty-five, hope you still enjoy.

The Pridelands were under a drought. A terrible drought. The herds are starting to move on and the water sources are drying up. More lives are being taken all because of someone unworthy sat on the throne of the Pridelands.

"I figured I'll find you out here."

Uru growled before turning to face her sister who she haven't spoken to since before Simba was born. "I hope you're happy."

Nefertiti stood by the goldish lioness and looked out into the land from the hill-top they stood on. "I never wanted this but.." Nefertiti took a deep breath before looking at Uru. "You have yourself to blame."

Uru's green eyes widened, she raised her paw fully prepared to strike her sister when something struck her memory causing her to laugh before she lowered her paw and snarled. "Funny.. That demon said the same thing to me the day he killed Mufasa."

Nefertiti's green eyes widened in shock. "Taika did what?"

"Oh don't go acting like you didn't know." Uru growled. "I know you wanted me dead so you can become Queen. So when you couldn't you opened the darkness in that Makosa that was waiting to be let out, so he'll be King and you'll rule through him."

Nefertiti shook her head. "I... What happened?"

Uru laughed darkly. "I watched helplessly as that demon threw my son into the stampede. I was later forced down to the gorge floor where I learned that your sweet Prince sent hyenas to kill Simba. Oh but the good part is that he told me, that Mufasa's death was just my fault as it was his."

Nefertiti pinned her ears. "I had no idea. It's not what I wanted.. Not anymore."

Uru roared before striking her sister across the face. "Lies! You got in his head! Made him believe he could be King when he's nothing!"

"No.." Nefertiti moaned as blood began to pool. "I.."

"You were always jealous of my birthright! Now you have this demon on my father's throne!"

"Mohatu was my father too!" Nefertiti shouted before getting struck in the face again.

"Oooh, I know." Uru snarled. "He didn't have much time for me after you were born because he was spending it with you!"

Uru struck Nefertiti in her side, the dark gold lioness coughed up blood. Blood coming out her salmon outsider nose.

Uru looked at her bloody paw and back to her sister. Everything came crashing down, as she began shaking her head. "I.. I didn't mean... I'm sorry,"

Nefertiti coughed weakly, blood pouring from her muzzle and side. "I always wanted to be your equal.. never wanted to be Queen. Couldn't anyway... I'm just the king's bastard child.."

Uru had tears falling as she shook her head. "That's not true. You're a princess..."

Nefertiti slowly managed to put her blood soaked paw on her sister and looked at her with tears in her dull green eyes. "Uru... you need to know... you're a aunt..."

"Why haven't I seen him?" Uru sobbed, she never seen her sister with a cub besides Leila's son.

"Because... he's also Roark's son..."

Uru gasped as it came crashing down. Because of how she treated her own son. "What's my nephew's name?"

Nefertiti coughed again before she shuddered feeling cold. "Doesn't matter. He goes by a different name."

Uru took a deep breath before asking, "What did you originally name him?"

"After my... mother..."

Uru smiled sadly. "Nadira," but the goldish lioness didn't receive a response.

Looking down, Nefertiti wasn't breathing but a bloody smile was on her muzzle. Uru lowered her head and cried.

I'm sorry...

...

If anyone thought the king was a tyrant, they didn't know the importance his aunt was to him. Princess Nefertiti's death sent Scar in a mad stage.

He wanted perfection. He wanted to make sure his line last. And Gwen wasn't enough, he needed another to bare his cubs.

With Zira being pregnant he couldn't count on her to provide him a decent heir. He needed someone young and strong.

As he gazed out into his kingdom from his perch on the peak of priderock. He saw the perfect candidate to birth his heirs... of course if anything was to happen to Jesús.

With a hungry gleam in his eyes, the reddish-brown lion turned to head in his cave.

~PP~

A gentle breeze danced through the dark cream lion's dark brown mane tuft, weaving through his ears and into the pale blue sky. He let out a soft breath, his bottom lip folding out and his eyes focused on a single point ahead. His ears were perked up, intent to hear every sound.

He was crouched in the grass, completely still except for the gentle inhaling and exhaling that made his nose quiver. He was hunting and a elderly zebra mare was his target, she stood up ahead at the back of her herd.

An easy enough hunt, the dark cream lion thought. She looked too weak to do much more than continue eating the grass. Although most of the hunting was done by the lionesses, the males of the pride also had minor training in the art of catching prey.

The dark cream lion had hunted only once before, but it had been a failed attempt. He was determined to do it right, this time. Especially since Jua was hovering nearby, watching him. He would rather face a herd of angry rhinos then make a fool of himself in front of her. He couldn't mess this up.

The old zebra was about the easiest target in the savannah, another reason for him not to fail. He unsheathed his claws, taking a steadying breath. He could fully admit to himself that he thought of Jua as more than just a friend now. Especially after the intimate moments they shared.

But now Jua had been assigned his scout for this mission, to watch him and point out flaws and such. He hoped she would not have to do much of that. And he knew that his good friend, Kuona too were out there lurking, ready to see him hunt.

Why everyone had decided to watch him hunting the dark cream lion was unsure, but it sure didn't help his confidence levels. At least he had the knowledge that half the pride had gathered on Kuona's first hunting attempt. That…hadn't gone so well.

The dark cream lion remembered with a faint smirk how his friend had ended up being chased by an angry gazelle buck. Then again, they had both failed their first one. Kuona had succeeded on his third try, and here the dark cream lion was, starting his second. He wanted to prove himself, by upping his more stronger, warrior friend on this. He couldn't fail.

The dark cream lion took a step forward, holding his breath from the anxiety. He swallowed, glancing to either side of him, then moved another step forward. He continued like this, a single silent step at a time, nearing the herd of zebra and his target. She was still oblivious. The dark cream lion licked his lips, stilling his tail tip.

Now or never.

He launched himself forwards, hind legs propelling him with a burst of powerful energy. His claws tore up the ground as he sprinted after the zebra herd, that had let out a raucous collection of frightened calls and whines. The elderly one cantered behind, ears pinned back and braying with fear. She seemed to sense this would be her end.

The dark cream lion was just behind her, pelting along and kicking up dirt and grass. Zebra were fast, he thought with an annoyed flick of his tail, even the old one was slightly quicker than him. Although she was aged, she was stronger than she looked.

The dark cream lion felt a twinge of fear as he raced after her. The zebra kicked out with her back hooves, sliding to a stop. Her sides heaved, and The dark cream lion guessed that she had no more strength to run, and had decided to fight for her life.

The dark cream lion's paws skidded on the ground as he reached her, frantically trying to dodge the kick. Time slowed down as her hooves hit him squarely in the chest and he felt the wind knocked out of him. The lion landed with a thump in the grass, quite disoriented.

The zebra was standing a few paces away, looking ready to kick out again. The dark cream lion groaned and sat up, his mane covered chest bruised and sparking with pain. But he wasn't about to give up yet. The zebra had gained upper ground and seemed pleased, her old eyes showing relief for her moment of triumph. Not for long.

The dark cream lion shook away the hurt, charging toward the old mare. Her eyes widened with fear, and he realized her fatal mistake. She had taken time to gloat, rather than getting away while she could.

The dark cream lion let out a snarl, narrowing his green eyes. The zebra brayed wildly, trying to kick out at him and land the same blow that had stumbled him earlier. But he dodged this time, ready for her attack. He ducked below the hooves and threw himself under her striped stomach.

The time it took her to drop her hooves to the ground was all the time he needed to plunge his claws into her stomach. The zebra knew it was over. She had fought hard, but as soon as the pain blossomed in her stomach she realized she was doomed. Her life had been good, she recalled. She had mothered many foals and seen the migration many times. She was prepared now; her time in the Circle of Life was drawing to a close. She shut her eyes as the hunter cut deep into her abdomen, then shoved her down with a strong push.

The old zebra wasn't giving up. She was giving her life. The dark cream lion stood over the animal, as she lay dying on the ground below him. He had been slightly surprised by her docile end, letting him turn the ground red with her blood. He could still see her breathing, and knew he had to end it now. She was in plenty of pain…but she seemed not to mind. It was almost as if she was letting him take her life. He felt momentarily stunned and shaken.

Was this always how it felt, to kill another creature?

He knew they relied on hunting to survive, but still…He swallowed and bent down, clasping his jaws around her strained neck and locating the thick vein that supplied blood to her heart. He clamped tightly around it, feeling the strange sense of remorse again. The zebra's eyes flickered, the bright, beautiful light of life shining in them. Then it was gone.

The dark cream lion kept still, his blood-stained jaws still clutching the dead mare's neck. His throat felt dry, and he felt shaky. And then the hatred poured in. He wasn't supposed to feel sorry for his prey!

He shook his head, trying to push away all the confusing thoughts.

"Jata!" A voice brought him back to reality, and his ears pricking and eyes blinking open wider. "Oh, you did it!"

It was Jua. She was galloping towards him, her beautiful brown eyes shining with admiration and delight.

The dark cream lion rose shakily to his paws, licking the blood from his muzzle. He gave her a smile, feeling completely out of it.

"Y-yes…I did." He said, breathless. As he said the words he felt stronger.

He had done it. He had completed a hunt, successful! He then sat back down. Oh. It was a bit tiring.

"Congrats, Jata!" A creamy orange, brownish mane lion and a young black lioness were nearing, both looking pleased and mildly surprised.

The creamy orange lion, Kuona seemed faintly jealous, but Jata didn't mind. He was sure he would have felt the same had Kuona caught it on an earlier first try.

"You were amazing." Jua breathed, stopping in front of him. "You didn't give up at all!" She looked thrilled by his success.

She pressed her nose against his, and Jata let her warm scent swirl around him.

He couldn't believe how close they were.

"Y-yeah…" He stammered out, lost for words.

He stood still, gazing deep into the younger lioness' brilliant gaze.

"Hey!"

Jata felt heat rush up to his cheeks, and he stepped back. Before anyone could speak, another voice rose out from the meadows.

"Well done, my son."

Alvaro, a large old dark brown, black mane lion was striding over, his expression delighted and impressed, and his yellow eyes showing a glimmer of amusement.

He must have seen the aftermath of the hunt.

Jata flushed faintly, but smiled at his father. He padded towards the dark brown furred lion, thrusting his head against Alvaro's black mane. His father purred softly, nuzzling Jata's dark brown mane tuft. He stepped back, blinking calm eyes at the younger lion.

"I would like to talk with you, my son." Alvaro said, betraying nothing in his gaze.

"Oh…alright." Jata nodded, still ecstatic from his hunt. He glanced back where the carcass lay. "Er…" He began, but Jua padded to his side.

"We'll take it to cave and tell the others of your success."

The pale brown lioness smiled faintly. Jata blinked warmly at her. She flicked her tail against his shoulder as she padded away, beckoning to Kuona and the black young lioness, Artem to help.

Jata turned back to his father. Alvaro looked less happy now, and Jata wondered momentarily what had occurred. In fact, the older lion seemed almost tense.

Slightly concerned, Jata opened his mouth to ask, but Alvaro cut him off with a swish of his tufted tail.

"Come." Alvaro directed, walking away.

Jata flicked his ears and padded after, head tilted slightly with puzzlement. The two padded through their home, father and son weaving through the grass. Jata felt as if he should say something, but he wasn't quite sure what to speak about. In his hesitation, Alvaro started to talk instead.

"That was quite impressive." The dark brown lion commented, referring obviously to the hunt.

Jata blinked appreciatively at his father, but his tail gave a confused swish. He was sure the hunt wasn't what Alvaro had brought him alone to talk about. He thought for a moment as silence ensued, then looked up at his father.

"Was it just me…or is it usual to feel sorry for your prey?" The dark cream lion asked, looking down and feeling slightly ashamed of his feelings.

To Jata's surprise, Alvaro gave him a rough nuzzle."No, it's not just you." He replied gently. "I felt the same way when I killed my first prey seasons ago. A young wildebeest, it was, and I felt so guilty after watching it crumple to the ground, bleating with terror. But I killed it, even though my heart told me not too." Alvaro continued, glancing up at the blue sky. "You get over it eventually. I have killed prey enough times to not even notice the feeling anymore."

"Oh. I never knew hunting was so emotional." Jata mumered, kicking at a small stone. Even though he was old enough to know basics of hunting, he never needed to learn.

The sad, yet peaceful look in the zebra's eyes still swam in his mind. His father gave him a kind look.

"Son, I assume you know that wasn't what I brought you out here to speak with you about." Alvaro shook his black mane out, introducing a new topic as they moved slowly along.

Jata glanced up, blinking with interest and confusion.

"I don't know what you might think about what I am about to tell you, but please, remember that I will always love you, my son."

Jata felt a chill of fear race up his spine. What in the Great Kings was his father about to say, that he was scared that he might be upset about?

Jata pulled back his ears, his eyes glimmering with confusion.

"O-okay…father?" He managed to say, tense.

Alvaro took a steadying breath before saying more. "Jata…you aren't a Lunar. Your mother wasn't Edonea as I'm not your father and you were not born here in the Luna Kingdom." He kept speaking before Jata barely registered what he said. "Jata…which is not your official name. Nadir, you are a Pridelander…and your mother is named Nefertiti."