A/N: Hi there! I hope this chapter starts to REALLY put things into perspective. From here on out, it'll start to truly focus on my main idea for this story in the long run. And something that you should know about my approach to writing lately, especially for this story, is this: I 90% of the time add things to my plots for a very specific reason. I've become a fluff cutter. This story is an experiment with foreshadowing and eventually some archetypes, which I haven't really worked a whole lot with in the past, so that'll be interesting.

So, yep! Enjoy the chapter! If you have any questions or are curious about something, I'd like to hear feedback. I just ask that you are kind with your words of wisdom ^^

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"Now remember, this isn't about fun anymore," Kovu told his son and daughter. He flinched as he stepped on a dry clump of grass, which resembled all too well the rest of the increasingly arid Pride Lands. "We need to try our best to bring something home with us," he went on after inspecting his paw pad.

"Yes, Daddy."

"Alright."

Natin was with them, too, but he had gone off on his own to scout for the scattered, dwindling herds. This dry season seems especially harsh, almost as if I had never left the Outlands, Kovu thought bitterly to himself. It hadn't rained a drop since the night of Simba's passing, and it had now been half a moon since then. The juicy, green tendrils that had made the Pride Lands look lush were fried under the sizzling heat of the oppressive sun, changing everything to a dull golden brown. As it was, without much of a reason to stay, Timon and Pumbaa had moved back to their jungle home, and in their advancing age, it was expected that they wouldn't be returning too many more times. Kovu had taken the cubs out just before sunrise to take advantage of the cooler morning air, but it had been useless. Licking his dry lips, Kovu sat down and began coaching his cubs. They were still learning, and it made no sense to waste time while Natin was away. In these times, they had be all about efficiency, something that Kovu knew all too well from his youth.

Kovu had the cubs practice their sense of balance by making them stand in stalking positions on a fallen tree. Tanga was fairing well, but Asuma seemed to be having trouble.

"Asuma, what's the matter with you today?" Kovu said. He didn't mean for his tone to come out sharp, but with the way things had been with his son lately, he couldn't help it.

The marmalade-colored prince picked himself up off the dusty ground, rubbing the side of his head with a paw. His eyes were listless, his eyelids dark and heavy. "I'm sorry," he apologized. "I'll keep trying."

Kovu looked on, frowning, while Asuma clambered to resume his place in front of Tanga on the dead tree. "Just try harder, son. You can do it."

Fear was one of the many feelings that Kovu felt toward his son. The reason he was being so short with him wasn't because of the situation in the dry Pride Lands. It was because of Asuma's dreams, which had only intensified since Kovu had first learned about them. He had thought at first that they were merely revivals of his son's traumatizing experience, but now he was almost certain that they could reveal secrets that Kovu had thought he had safely buried. On the night that he had found his son lost in the rain, Kovu had assured himself that Asuma had seen nothing. He had willingly accepted the words Kovu had told him about hiding a kill to save for later. But even though Asuma may have not known what he was really looking at in the dark, his imagination was somehow filling in the blanks little by little.

It's just silly though... Kovu thought to himself as yet again, Asuma fell from the dead tree and apologized for his slip. He can't know... He believes that rogues killed Simba. He's still moping around about it because he still thinks it's his fault!

"Kovu, I think the herds have gone even farther out." Natin's voice interrupted Kovu's thoughts. The lion's eyes shifted onto his nephew, who panted wearily from the heat. The carcass of a large mouse was at his paws. "I can't see anything more than dots on the horizon."

It won't take more than a few days before the majority of the herds have left the Pride Lands behind, Kovu thought to himself, irritated. To Natin he nodded. This had been a waste of his energy, and just then his stomach complained. He had hoped to let the cubs do some hunting that day, but now it was out of the question.

"It's too hot to go that far," he said with disappointment. "We'll have to wait until the sun goes down so that the lionesses can find the herds and hunt."

"Oh, Daddy, can we go, too?" Tanga exclaimed when she overheard. "We've never been out with you for a night hunt! And how are we going to learn to be the best hunters if we've never experienced one, huh?"

Kovu smiled. "I'll have a talk with your mother to see what she thinks. You'll be up all night if you do go."

Beaming, Tanga said, "That's just fine with me. The sounds of scurrying beasts will be my lullaby."

Natin chuckled. "Tanga must be the most excited lioness ever to want to go hunting," he remarked.

"Hey, somehow I'll have to get good... like Nala, Vitani, and you, Daddy!"

Tiredly, Asuma made a sound. "You can just ask Mother about her, Dad," he said. "I'm much too tired, and I'll be useless to you. She's a much better huntress."

Kovu hated to see his son like this, but he spoke the truth. There was no more room for games when it came down to kill or go hungry. Asuma's concentration was low, and taking a trip both ways out to the nearest herds was expected to be exhausting even for the well-conditioned lionesses in the pride. He still had to ask though. "Are you sure, Asuma?"

Asuma nodded. He then yawned as if to make his point clearer.

The dark-furred lion and his young charges headed back to Pride Rock, each ones steps hastened by the promise of a much cooler den and a late-morning nap. Once they returned home, they were greeted first by Nala, who sat gazing over the grounds of the Pride Lands with a worried expression on her face.

"Is everything all right, Nala?" Kovu asked her. Asuma and Natin went into the den in a race to see who would get inside first while Tanga stayed behind with her father.

The light-furred lioness sighed, her teal eyes just as dull as they had been since Simba's passing. "The dry season seems to have come early, and it bothers me. Everything looks terrible. I haven't seen anything like this in years, not since..." The lioness trailed off at that, and Kovu didn't need any explanation to guess what she meant.

The thought of the drought being an omen connected to Kovu's rule had irked his mind since the first signs of heinous weather had surfaced. He had heard stories of the terrible drought that had plagued the land during Scar's time as king after he had killed his brother, Mufasa. It had driven the pride to near starvation, from what he knew, to the point of which they had begun debating whether or not to abandon Pride Rock for other territories. Let's just hope the Kings aren't sending us a message, Kovu thought to himself, but he was doubtful.

"We didn't have much luck finding food," Kovu reported once he sensed the lioness would not continue. "Natin said he saw some herds, but they're very far away, and he only caught a rodent. If we wait until dusk, I think we can try hunting then."

The lionesses nodded. "I think that would be best."

"Daddy's going to ask Mom if I can go, too," Tanga said cheerfully. "It'll be good practice for me."

Nala smiled upon her granddaughter. "Is that right? I've heard good things from your parents. You're going to be a fine huntress," she complimented.

"It's hard not to when you're learning from the best."

Kovu beamed back at his daughter, and leaned down to lick the top of her head. He was proud of her. "Now why don't you go and get some rest? Maybe it could help to persuade your mother into letting you go," he told her.

"Alright, Daddy."

When Kovu looked back at the former queen, Nala had her eyes narrowed, her ears perked. "Is Asuma not going?" she asked.

Kovu shrugged. "He doesn't show the same enthusiasm as his sister does," he said. "There's no concentration, and a night hunt like that is not the place for inexperience. Taking him would be just looking for trouble."

"Well, he can't gain experience without being there," Nala remarked, "but I see your concern. His dreams have been draining him, and I'm worried he might become ill. He's not sleeping, Kovu, or at least it doesn't seem like it."

"It's gotten worse, hasn't it?"

She nodded. "I've seen him toss and turn for half a night, and he mutters things in his sleep, too."

Kovu was careful to hide his interest. "I hadn't noticed," he said. "I knew he'd been having repeated nightmares, but... What kinds of things has he said?"

"They have to do with Simba's death and being lost, that's for certain. He keeps muttering something about wanting to help someone, and several times I've heard him mutter, 'Where are you taking him? Who are you?' I think that maybe he should speak with Tswane about them."

"Rafiki is not back yet?"

"Nobody's seen him in weeks, Kovu."

Red flags had been going up in Kovu's mind as he listened to what Nala had to report about his son and Rafiki. Of all the animals outside of the pride, Kovu held the old shaman with the most suspicion, and now Kovu feared more than ever that through Asuma's dreams a deeper, much grimmer meaning could be revealed to the pride. Kovu couldn't allow Tswane or anyone else to interpret Asuma's dreams. If enough details were exposed, the pride might start to find that things added up to something, exposing Simba's true end. After all, no "rogues" had made an appearance to challenge Kovu's position at the head of the pride since the tragedy, and Kovu had been with Simba the morning of the murder.

No, Kovu stopped himself from panicking. There's no way he can know everything. The most he saw was me dragging a carcass. If he knew otherwise, he would have already told them I was hiding Simba's body, and not a kill. Besides, they won't want to see the truth, remember?

But then he began to wonder if the shamans would be able to make the details add up. The others were living safely in ignorant bliss just because they knew only the basics. Then he began to wonder if even the members of his pride would be able to name Kovu as the murderer of Simba if they knew enough blatant facts.

"I'll have a talk with him and see if I can help him," Kovu said to Nala. He shook his head. "I hurts me to see him like this..."

Nala nodded her approval. She then asked, "Do you want me to start rallying the lionesses for the hunt tonight, Kovu?"

"Yes, thank you, Nala. Just tell them it will start at dusk."

"Some of the lionesses, including Vitani and Kiara, left to find food not long after sunrise. They'll be tired if they catch anything, or otherwise, but I'm sure we can still come up with a decent hunting party," Nala relayed. "I'll speak with them soon."

Kovu nodded his appreciation with a little bow before he headed into the den, and instantly Kovu felt the blessed drop in temperature. Six or so lionesses were busy resting inside. A few lazily looked on as Tanga and Natin played a game of tag, while one lioness, the evidence of Natin's small kill at her paws, suckled her young cubs that, due to the drought, had been introduced into the pride as soon as they were able to be moved. The dark-furred king worried about the well-fare of the tiny cubs, especially since one was a female. Asuma's mate and future queen had yet to be chosen, and the pale, brown-colored cub seemed like the best candidate. But if the drought became much more severe, he thought that the likely hood of them surviving looked slim.

By himself, Asuma was resting with his chin on his paws. He blinked slowly, his heavy-lidded eyes following after his sister and cousin's excited movements as they tumbled and chased after each other. Kovu settled himself down next to his son.

"Dad," Asuma said after a moment, "I'm sorry if I'm a disappointment to you."

Kovu's shoulders sunk and he tapped his tail. "You could never disappoint me, Asuma. I'll be proud of you no matter what," he replied, moving closer to him.

Asuma arched an eyebrow. "But how can you be... I look terrible in comparison to Tanga and Natin."

"Because you are my son," Kovu said, "and I know what it's like to have someone disappointed in you."

The youngster was quiet for a moment, taking in Kovu's words. "How could anyone be disappointed in you?" Asuma rolled over and rested his paws on his father's foreleg. "You're brave, strong, smart, and a king."

"Just being king doesn't make me any of those things," Kovu said. He glanced up as Tanga leaped into the air. Natin did the same, grabbing his smaller cousin by her sides and rolling with her. Looking back down at his son, Kovu continued. "My position in life doesn't make me who I am," he said, "it's what I do.

"You're a smart boy. You're calm and reasonable. You think things through. You can't compare yourself to them, or you'll never learn to love yourself... as I do." Kovu went on. He gestured with a small nod to Tanga and Natin. "Natin is older than you, and Tanga has a lot of enthusiasm. You would have done well today if you hadn't been so tired. These dreams... Your grandmother says that they are getting worse?"

While Kovu had spoken, Asuma had begun to smile. Now, when prompted about his nightmares, the cub deflated. He nodded. "I can't sleep, Dad, without dreaming them. They're horrible. I wake up and I'm still so, so tired."

"Has anything changed?"

Again, his son nodded. "First, in my dreams there was only the storm and the roars of lions, like I told you. I couldn't see anyone, and I'd always fall down when I slipped in the mud," he said, swallowing. "Now, I'm running from one rogue, and chasing after another who is dragging something with them. I'm not sure what it means, but I think that I'm seeing the rogue who killed Grandfather. And something stranger... is that I'm not a cub, but somehow I know that I'm a full-grown lion like you. I don't know what that part means though. Maybe I'm supposed to find Simba's killer and make him pay for what he has done to us?" The young lion looked away, growling softly. "I don't see how anyone could be so cruel. Grandfather never hurt anyone."

It took everything in Kovu to not shiver at his son's words, having felt like he had been kicked in the abdomen. Asuma had no idea that the lion he spoke of was his own father. A chill of foreboding ran down Kovu's spine as he said, "Revenge is never the answer, Asuma. It only hurts more than the initial act did."

Asuma's blue eyes widened, his brow furrowed. "But... but there has to be justice, doesn't there? He got away with murder, didn't he? Murder is the worst."

"Yes, but it's better to forgive than to seek blood for blood. You get nowhere traveling in a circle of hate, Asuma."

"Who says it's better?"

"No one really does in particular, but it's just better to not carry hate in your heart. Hate blackens the soul and clouds your vision. The only way to move on is... is to forgive. To give mercy." Kovu cringed inwardly at both the conversation he was even having with his son, and at the words he was saying. These are the words she used to trick me into bringing Simba to her...

Kovu fidgeted. "Besides, the rogue is probably miles from here by now. It's in the past, and your grandfather would want us all to move on with our lives."

Asuma looked down, frowning. "Yeah... yeah I guess that you're right." He sighed, then beamed at his father. "You're pretty wise, Dad. Now you could only help me get rid of these pesky dreams..."

Kovu chuckled. "They'll go away in their own time, I think."

"Y'know... when Mother comes back..." Asuma said, "...could you ask if I can go, too? At least to watch? I'll try not to get in the way, I promise."

Kovu smiled half-heartedly. "Are you sure, Asuma?"

Asuma's whole being seemed to lighten. He nodded. "Yes, I am. I'll even go right now to remind Tanga that we should take a nap if we need to help convince Mother." At this, both lions glanced over to Natin and Tanga, who were still wrestling without exhaustion. Kovu noticed that the youngest cubs in the pride were watching the tussle from their mother's side, their small eyes half-closed with sleep. Kovu smiled at this.

When his son had left his side to try and convince Tanga and Natin to take a nap, Kovu put his chin on his paws, closing his eyes as he sighed and grimaced slightly.

Is there any way that I can trust that his dreams will go away? To relieve him of his guilt, or otherwise? I can't live in danger of being found out for much longer... it'll kill me...