HOME | DD

Description
WARNING: This fanfic contains graphic bondage, hero abuse and drowning, and is written specifically for people who like this. Don't like, don't read. All rude and unproductive comments will be deleted without reply.

The Pridelands were in trouble.
Ever since the mysterious death of the great, beloved King Mufasa many years prior, a dark shadow of tyranny had fallen over the Pridelands. The King had been found dead in a lake, drowned in some unknown, tragic accident. Mufasa's estranged brother Scar had hastily seized the throne, and plunged the townspeople into a world of oppression.
Cruel taxes punished the city's poor to fuel Scar's extravagent lifestyle. Any opposing voices would disappear, or suddenly change their minds overnight... the admired Princess Nala acted as a steadying hand for Scar's regime, but her power only extended so far in a male's world.
But the townspeople had one final hope; a young Prince named Simba. The only surviving child of Mufasa. For years he was believed dead, but suddenly returned from some far-off land. The prince had recently come of age, but had seemed reluctant to accept his responsibilities, as if plagued by some past trauma. Only with the guiding hand of his childhood friend Nala, was he able to stand a chance in his reach for the power that was so rightfully his.
In the months prior, Simba and Nala's relationship had grown far out of politics and into something much more intimate. Hopeful whispers told of a future marriage between the two new lovers. Such an alliance would drive a stake through Scar's chokehold on the Pridelands.
But behind closed doors, dark plans were being made.
The two had been enjoying some time away from the bustle of the city. But now it was growing dark, and Nala was due back at the castle. Staying out all night would do them no favours.
After a long journey down the winding dirt paths, Simba turned to her, holding her hands delicately. He wore red silk shorts with a golden band, and a simple blue vest. Around his neck was a necklace, engraved with the emblem of his family; a lion cub.
"Cold out tonight..." Simba said, looking up at the starry sky.
Nala narrowed her eyes cooly; she wore a flowing, beautiful blue sari with gold edges. "Too cold... I'd let you stay here, but you know what Scar's like... he'll get suspicious." she said, huffing.
Simba chuckled. "He's jealous and you know it."
"Jealous and powerful. I promise... just let me cool him down. It'll take time. He's bound to let you back into the family soon."
The male shrugged. "Hmph. I'm just another peasant to him."
Nala sighed. "No..." she said, suddenly yanking Simba's vest and dragging the male into her arms.
"Oof-!"
"You're my peasant." she grinned with a low voice, pressing their noses tightly together.
Nala slowly pushed a hand up Simba's shoulder. Simba held her softly, and gradually... their lips met into a gentle kiss.
Nala's fingers ran through Simba's soft red mane. They stood there in each other's grasp for a while, enjoying the warmth of one another. It seemed to drag on for hours. They would happily stand there in each other's grip until sunrise.
The night had been so magical. Simba had never felt so good and loved in all his short life.
With a quiet click, their lips drew apart.
Simba cleared his throat and staggered backwards. . "I, ah... I better go before Mr Righteous shows up." he chuckled, stroking her hands and starting on his way back out into the desert. "Sleep well, my Princess..." he whispered back dreamily.
Nala smiled at him and turned away. "Goodnight, my King..."
Simba melted from toe to ear. King. He gave a final look back as Nala disappeared behind the mighty stone walls. Only when she had gone inside did Simba sprint off down the dirt trail and out into the wide, open grassland, feeling the cool night air waft through his mane.
After a short run, he looked back dizzily, gazing at the distant black silhouette of the castle over the horizon. "Hahhhh..." the young lion collapsed into the grass, sighing with a smirk over his face as he folded his hands behind his head.
She called him King.
King Simba. The name would be called out from atop the towers. People would cheer at his presence. Armies of servants waiting to cater to his every desire.
"King... King Simba." he chanted to himself, chuckling at the taste of his words. "All bow before the almighty, powerful, noble, generous, the one and only... King--"
"DARGH!!"
With horrific suddenness two tall lion soldiers in thick leather armour suddenly latched onto Simba's arms. The petrified young lion leapt up onto his feet as he was tossed up off the ground.
"H-Huhh??! NO!! G-GET off m-mee!!" Simba screamed, swinging within their grip. He managed to bring a hind leg up and booted one of them back; but just as he did a swarm of no less than 6 hyenas leaped into the fray and swamped Simba.
"UNGH!! N-NO!! NO!! L-Leave me al-lone!!! G-Gaarghh--!!"
Wrestling the weight of the other lion, Simba managed to kick aside one or two of the smaller hyenas, punching the air for freedom. But the other lion returned and landed a harsh punch into Simba's back, knocking the younger lion dizzy for a vital second.
The lion bandits nodded at each other; with powerful precision they kicked their feet into Simba's shins.
"Waaahhh-- DUPFH-!" Simba yelped, falling face-first into the dirt with a loud thud. The hyenas flooded over him and overwhelmed the poor prince, as a heavy foot from one of the lions slammed down into his spine.
Simba panted in protest. "Gaahhcc-ck--!! G-Get off me!! Get oppfh--" he yelped just as a thick white cloth was thrown over his mouth by one of the lions.
"Wrrnh!! Nuhh!! Muuuunph!!" Simba wailed, going to rip the cloth from his face; but the lions caught his wrists and forced his arms behind his back. The gag was knotted tight around the back of Simba's neck, muting the young prince.
Simba's eyes flashed about in terror. Oh no. He couldn't fight them all off by himself. He gaped about in all directions, lurching and squirming against their grips as he tried to see over the tall grass.
Through a hurried glimpse, he almost thought he saw the tall silhouette of his uncle Scar stood there, watching with pity.
"UGH!" Simba coughed as a hard fist pushed his head down to the grass, as the boy's wrists were held tight. Chains rattled behind Simba, and his hands were locked into thick iron cuffs. Two of the other hyenas shackled Simba's feet together before he had the opportunity to resist.
The boy looked about in panic. He was totally helpless.
The captors quickly dragged Simba up onto his knees, cocking the young lion's head up as Scar padded menacingly closer, dabbing his gold staff into the grass as he did.
Simba whimpered, bumbling into the cloth. "Scwrr, huwlpp!!" he spewed into the gag inaudibly, glaring up at the tall lion with pleading eyes.
But he was only replied with oily, green eyes piercing him through the darkness. Eventually, the brown feline took a few steps forward, a stare of pity in his eyes.
"Kneel before your King, BOY." and Scar suddenly raised the butt of his staff; jab, right into Simba's stomach.
"HOOPFHH--" Simba wheezed, collapsing forward into a heap at Scar's toes as the air was blown from his chest. He didn't have much time until a sharp set of fingers gripped his red mane and cocked him back up to his knees. Scar gawked into his nephew's half-open eyes.
"Look at you. Pathetic, weak and helpless. Just like your father. You have so much in common with him."
Simba groaned as Scar released him, allowing him to fall back into the grip of the waiting guards. "Nngh!! Nommphh!! L-Lumme gww!!"
Scar cackled, poking his gold staff up into Simba's chin and cocking the young lion's head up. "You even struggle like him. But not like I struggled... I struggled every day under his manipulations and tyranny. He stole the throne that was rightfully mine. And to rub salt in the wound... he creates YOU. To carry on his little chain."
As the soldiers held him steady, Simba whined as Scar leaned in close, almost pressing his lips up against his ears.
"You've spent so long punishing and hiding the killer within yourself. But he's not in your head, Simba. He's right here."
Simba's eyes grew open like a flower.
"I killed your father."
The young lion's body lit up like a wildfire. Him. Scar was the killer. All those years he spent away from home, running from what he thought was his mistake. All those years he could have spent with his family stolen from him...
"NRRGHHH!!!" Simba barked, suddenly thrusting free of his captors. In his bondage he dove into his Uncle's side, knocking the two of them down into the grass. Simba roared and squealed into his gag in fury. "MUWRDRUR!!"
Scar grumbled, twisting and punching the air to get his cuffed nephew off him. "NAGCK-- G-GET HIM OFF ME!!" Scar snorted in disgust
Simba's shoulders were grabbed and he was hurled back into the grass, the soldiers towering over him, stamping and punching into the young lion's flesh at every space and opportunity.
Scar quickly righted himself, brushing the grass and dry dirt from his silky robes as Simba was tossed into a relentless beating. He retained his usual posture and approached the mess of punches and painful, muffled yelps.
"Enough." Scar ordered with a raised fist; the beating stopped.
Simba laid there in a crater, bruises forming all over his body. His breaths were heavy and laboured. The hits had been hard and brutal. No bone or muscle was spared from the agony.
Through warbled ears, he heard Scar and the soldiers muttering on. When he was pulled back up to his knees, he looked up and saw Scar, fading off back down the hillside and towards the castle; he only made out one phrase;
"We drowned his father just fine... but this time, there's no need to find the body."
Simba sensed two sets of arms lock around him, dragging him across the sand. His vision was giving in. His eyelids were heavy as he watched his Uncle's foggy brown and black silhouette stroll off and out of his sight.
No... h-have to... s-stay awake...
The young lion's eyes fell level with the ground, watching the sand trail behind him as he was dragged off. It was too much.
Hel-lp... n-nnoo....
But the damage was done. Simba fell limp within their grasp. Now there was nothing for him but a long journey, many miles out of the city.
* * * * * * * *
"Uhhnnn..."
Simba woke to feel two arms dragging him. He hung barely conscious in the grip of two tall soldiers, his chained legs trailing through the sand.
His head pulsed and ached, the young lion having a hard time clutching onto what remained of his consciousness. He tried to make anything out, tried to lift his head up. But he was so tired. Distant conversations echoed through his ears; words were hard to distinguish.
And then... he felt like he was floating. No. He was falling.
His red mane whipped and smothered over his eyes, blotting his view. The air howled up at Simba's bound body as the blast of cold air gave him enough urge to open his eyes. He tugged feeblishly at his hands to find that his arms were still bound by the iron cuffs.
Gazing up, through his swishing red mane he saw the blurry outline of a lion, leaning over the side of a cliff, waving to him before disappearing.
"Uhhhn..." Simba's eyes wavered tiredly, his body still pulsing with pain as he prepared to pass out yet again.
BSCHUMM!!!
Suddenly his whole body was swallowed by icy water. Simba was whacked into full alert.
"HOHLPHH- MPH--" he spluttered out pathetically, squirming with horrid discomfort as the water stabbed through his fur and soaked him instantly to the bone. Feeling a heavy pull at his ankles, he gaped down and let out a piercing choke of terror.
A heavy ball at the end of a long chain was attached to the metal fetters on his feet.
"Nomphh... N-NOPHH--BHHBL!!!" the young lion wailed in horror as icy water poured through the soaked cloth and into his mouth.
Frantically, Simba began struggling with everything he had. He twisted and curled and thrashed his limbs about, heaving with every ounce of strength. Simba strained and kicked his legs, desperate to slip the shackles from his feet. When that failed he clenched his fists and tried to free his arms, trying in vain to slip the bonds from his wrists. "Mmgphhh--hwup-hh--hnnggh--!!"
But it was useless. The cuffs latched tight into his fur, metal digging hard into his wrists and ankles. He couldn't break them with strength alone.
"Uh-hhmm-- hngg--n-NO!" the young lion spluttered out, arching his back as the iron ball pulled him to his doom, tugging and wreathing against the restraints.
He gazed up at the surface as his lungs began to burn for oxygen. The light began to slowly snuff out as Simba sank deeper, deeper into the darkness... about to become another of his uncle's victims.
"Whobhh--nnphh!! O-Ohhhm, n-no...!!" the young lion moaned deliriously through his gag. Still he tried to break free, battled his bonds with everything he had. But it was no use. He sank down towards a dark, cold tomb. Knowing the truth, knowing who killed his father, knowing that Scar wanted Nala for his own... and he would be taking those secrets with him to his watery death, down to the bottom of the cold African sea.
"Unnnhhh... UNF-!!"
The iron ball slammed into the muddy bottom with a hard thud, hurtling Simba into the ground and throwing up a blinding cloud of sand and sediment all around.
Bubbles pumped from Simba's nose as he swished himself back upright, oxygen dribbling from his stinging lungs. The terrified lion swayed through the water, chains clinking and the metal cuffs rubbing hard into his flesh. "Hnnnhh--hhn!!"
Throbs of exhaustion began to overcome him, as the burn for oxygen started to hurt his chest. This couldn't be it. No. He couldn't let Scar, his own uncle, defeat him like this... he had to escape. Somehow.
When suddenly, Simba froze.
Something was falling through the water next to him. A faint glisten of light. Wafting his red mane as it went over his eyes... he saw the glisten of a small metal key.
"HOPPHH--" Simba went to scream in shock, but more seawater spilled into his mouth. The soldiers must have dropped it accidentally, or maybe thrown it in to ensure no clues were ever found... with eagle-like eyes Simba gaped at it as the key dribbled down and landed upright in the sand.
This was it. His only chance. His one shot to survive this.
Simba conjured up every speck of effort, every muscle and bone. He HAD to get that key. Tucking his knees into his chest and balling his fists up tight, eyes screwed shut...
"HNN---DUGGHHH!!!"
The boy thrust towards the key. His mane flew up in front of his face and his eyes shot open, glaring with determine and panic. The iron fetters gripped tight and hard into his ankles as the metal ball drained the momentum from him.
Simba lurched his head over his shoulder and gazed at the iron weight nauseously, watching it drag him back and sink into the soft mud.
He gazed back at the key. He thought of Nala, his friends... everyone who would have no idea what happened to him. Dizziness was slowly overwhelming him and his cheeks were bright red with a desire for fresh air.
No. He wasn't going down without a fight.
"HNGG--Gahh!! Ugghh!!" Simba roared, wreathing and kicking towards the key, against the mammoth weight of the iron ball. The metal bonds kept his limbs bound securely, chains rattling in his efforts. Thick banks of sand and sludge dragged against the iron ball, making Simba pay dearly for every attempt... the lion's muscles ached, his ankles burned and his head was spinning.
"UGHH!! UHH!! D-DAGHH!! UGHH!!" Simba barked and whined with despair as he heaved against the bonds, thrusting himself towards the key. The iron ball almost seemed ready to slide under his efforts...
...but it was just too heavy.
Simba's eyes rolled dizzily as a great cloud of bubbles plumed up from his nostrils. His lungs had caved in.
"G-Gohhh..."
His vision blurred and darkened. Before his eyes narrowed into slits he saw the key, sitting there teasingly in the sand beside him. And then... Nala's face. Everything faded into darkness. The pain slowly ebbed out, and pure exhaustion began to take over. Like he was falling asleep.
Simba went limp, allowing the current of the water to take him. Slowly the young lion drifted down through the water. Simba would die there, alone in the abyss. Nala would become Scar's wife. And his father's killer would still wander free, unpunished. The Pridelands were lost.
"Nala... I-I'm s-sorrryyyy..."
Simba passed out. Scar had beat him. Now he was doomed to spend the rest of his days, trapped at the bottom of the ocean; suffering an eternal punishment for stepping in Scar's way.
Or so he thought.

A slim dark figure swooped down through the water towards him.
* * * * * * * *
"HEUPHH--" Simba spluttered.
He collapsed forward onto grass, puking up several pints of salty water and sediment. Was it over? Was he dead?
Sucking in rich oxygen, Simba looked up with blurred eyes. He made out the silhouette of a baboon.
"R-Raff...f-fik-krrck--"
The old monkey shushed him with a finger, water dripping down his face, the painted patterns now running down and staining his fur.
"Hush yourself, Simba. You must rest."
Seawater pouring down his mane, Simba coughed and landed face-first into the ground, soggy beneath his soaked body. "H-How.. hhnnn..." he moaned, his vision still giddy and sparkly. "H-Hkow-ow d-did y-you fkk-k-find me...? S-Sk-c-car, h-khe... h-he trkk-k-- he tri-ried to k-kill m-me...-kkh--"
Rafiki nodded, patting the lion's back hard.
"Oh no... it is not your time yet. Scar has evil plans. He wants to enslave Nala as his own and drag the Pridelands into another useless war. But he is not stupid; he knows you're the only one who can stop him." the monkey said, grasping his wooden staff.
"But a tired, half-drowned hero is no use to his cause... for now, you must recover." he said as he helped Simba wobble up onto his knees.
Simba rubbed his sore wrists, red marks left over from the iron cuffs. "But... what about her...? I-I can't just sit aside...!! I have to go save her!!" he mumbled, stumbling forward clumsily and almost falling over.
Then, the baboon let out a chuckle. "Your thirst for justice never wanes. You truly are like your father." Rafiki said, wrapping a thick linen blanket around the lion's shoulders.
"Scar is patient. I will throw as much time between now and then as I can." the old monkey said, helping the weak lion up onto his wobbling legs.
"A half-drowned hero is no use to his cause. Scar thinks you are dead. With this in mind, he won't rush anything now. We must be slow and careful. We must prepare our next actions wisely."
Simba groaned smugly, tucking into the blanket as the night cold began to set in, making him shiver. "I just... I hope Nala will be okay till then."
Rafiki tutted. "Nala is a strong girl. When I return, I will tell her what unfolded here. And when you are well enough... we will make our move."
Simba listened on, staring at the distant lights of Scar's castle in the distance. His uncle had tried to drown him... but he was far from defeated. With a long smirk of hope, he turned to Rafiki and nodded.
"Let's do it."

Description
WARNING: This fanfic contains graphic bondage, hero abuse and drowning, and is written specifically for people who like this. Don't like, don't read. All rude and unproductive comments will be deleted without reply.

The Pridelands were in trouble.
Ever since the mysterious death of the great, beloved King Mufasa many years prior, a dark shadow of tyranny had fallen over the Pridelands. The King had been found dead in a lake, drowned in some unknown, tragic accident. Mufasa's estranged brother Scar had hastily seized the throne, and plunged the townspeople into a world of oppression.
Cruel taxes punished the city's poor to fuel Scar's extravagent lifestyle. Any opposing voices would disappear, or suddenly change their minds overnight... the admired Princess Nala acted as a steadying hand for Scar's regime, but her power only extended so far in a male's world.
But the townspeople had one final hope; a young Prince named Simba. The only surviving child of Mufasa. For years he was believed dead, but suddenly returned from some far-off land. The prince had recently come of age, but had seemed reluctant to accept his responsibilities, as if plagued by some past trauma. Only with the guiding hand of his childhood friend Nala, was he able to stand a chance in his reach for the power that was so rightfully his.
In the months prior, Simba and Nala's relationship had grown far out of politics and into something much more intimate. Hopeful whispers told of a future marriage between the two new lovers. Such an alliance would drive a stake through Scar's chokehold on the Pridelands.
But behind closed doors, dark plans were being made.
The two had been enjoying some time away from the bustle of the city. But now it was growing dark, and Nala was due back at the castle. Staying out all night would do them no favours.
After a long journey down the winding dirt paths, Simba turned to her, holding her hands delicately. He wore red silk shorts with a golden band, and a simple blue vest. Around his neck was a necklace, engraved with the emblem of his family; a lion cub.
"Cold out tonight..." Simba said, looking up at the starry sky.
Nala narrowed her eyes cooly; she wore a flowing, beautiful blue sari with gold edges. "Too cold... I'd let you stay here, but you know what Scar's like... he'll get suspicious." she said, huffing.
Simba chuckled. "He's jealous and you know it."
"Jealous and powerful. I promise... just let me cool him down. It'll take time. He's bound to let you back into the family soon."
The male shrugged. "Hmph. I'm just another peasant to him."
Nala sighed. "No..." she said, suddenly yanking Simba's vest and dragging the male into her arms.
"Oof-!"
"You're my peasant." she grinned with a low voice, pressing their noses tightly together.
Nala slowly pushed a hand up Simba's shoulder. Simba held her softly, and gradually... their lips met into a gentle kiss.
Nala's fingers ran through Simba's soft red mane. They stood there in each other's grasp for a while, enjoying the warmth of one another. It seemed to drag on for hours. They would happily stand there in each other's grip until sunrise.
The night had been so magical. Simba had never felt so good and loved in all his short life.
With a quiet click, their lips drew apart.
Simba cleared his throat and staggered backwards. . "I, ah... I better go before Mr Righteous shows up." he chuckled, stroking her hands and starting on his way back out into the desert. "Sleep well, my Princess..." he whispered back dreamily.
Nala smiled at him and turned away. "Goodnight, my King..."
Simba melted from toe to ear. King. He gave a final look back as Nala disappeared behind the mighty stone walls. Only when she had gone inside did Simba sprint off down the dirt trail and out into the wide, open grassland, feeling the cool night air waft through his mane.
After a short run, he looked back dizzily, gazing at the distant black silhouette of the castle over the horizon. "Hahhhh..." the young lion collapsed into the grass, sighing with a smirk over his face as he folded his hands behind his head.
She called him King.
King Simba. The name would be called out from atop the towers. People would cheer at his presence. Armies of servants waiting to cater to his every desire.
"King... King Simba." he chanted to himself, chuckling at the taste of his words. "All bow before the almighty, powerful, noble, generous, the one and only... King--"
"DARGH!!"
With horrific suddenness two tall lion soldiers in thick leather armour suddenly latched onto Simba's arms. The petrified young lion leapt up onto his feet as he was tossed up off the ground.
"H-Huhh??! NO!! G-GET off m-mee!!" Simba screamed, swinging within their grip. He managed to bring a hind leg up and booted one of them back; but just as he did a swarm of no less than 6 hyenas leaped into the fray and swamped Simba.
"UNGH!! N-NO!! NO!! L-Leave me al-lone!!! G-Gaarghh--!!"
Wrestling the weight of the other lion, Simba managed to kick aside one or two of the smaller hyenas, punching the air for freedom. But the other lion returned and landed a harsh punch into Simba's back, knocking the younger lion dizzy for a vital second.
The lion bandits nodded at each other; with powerful precision they kicked their feet into Simba's shins.
"Waaahhh-- DUPFH-!" Simba yelped, falling face-first into the dirt with a loud thud. The hyenas flooded over him and overwhelmed the poor prince, as a heavy foot from one of the lions slammed down into his spine.
Simba panted in protest. "Gaahhcc-ck--!! G-Get off me!! Get oppfh--" he yelped just as a thick white cloth was thrown over his mouth by one of the lions.
"Wrrnh!! Nuhh!! Muuuunph!!" Simba wailed, going to rip the cloth from his face; but the lions caught his wrists and forced his arms behind his back. The gag was knotted tight around the back of Simba's neck, muting the young prince.
Simba's eyes flashed about in terror. Oh no. He couldn't fight them all off by himself. He gaped about in all directions, lurching and squirming against their grips as he tried to see over the tall grass.
Through a hurried glimpse, he almost thought he saw the tall silhouette of his uncle Scar stood there, watching with pity.
"UGH!" Simba coughed as a hard fist pushed his head down to the grass, as the boy's wrists were held tight. Chains rattled behind Simba, and his hands were locked into thick iron cuffs. Two of the other hyenas shackled Simba's feet together before he had the opportunity to resist.
The boy looked about in panic. He was totally helpless.
The captors quickly dragged Simba up onto his knees, cocking the young lion's head up as Scar padded menacingly closer, dabbing his gold staff into the grass as he did.
Simba whimpered, bumbling into the cloth. "Scwrr, huwlpp!!" he spewed into the gag inaudibly, glaring up at the tall lion with pleading eyes.
But he was only replied with oily, green eyes piercing him through the darkness. Eventually, the brown feline took a few steps forward, a stare of pity in his eyes.
"Kneel before your King, BOY." and Scar suddenly raised the butt of his staff; jab, right into Simba's stomach.
"HOOPFHH--" Simba wheezed, collapsing forward into a heap at Scar's toes as the air was blown from his chest. He didn't have much time until a sharp set of fingers gripped his red mane and cocked him back up to his knees. Scar gawked into his nephew's half-open eyes.
"Look at you. Pathetic, weak and helpless. Just like your father. You have so much in common with him."
Simba groaned as Scar released him, allowing him to fall back into the grip of the waiting guards. "Nngh!! Nommphh!! L-Lumme gww!!"
Scar cackled, poking his gold staff up into Simba's chin and cocking the young lion's head up. "You even struggle like him. But not like I struggled... I struggled every day under his manipulations and tyranny. He stole the throne that was rightfully mine. And to rub salt in the wound... he creates YOU. To carry on his little chain."
As the soldiers held him steady, Simba whined as Scar leaned in close, almost pressing his lips up against his ears.
"You've spent so long punishing and hiding the killer within yourself. But he's not in your head, Simba. He's right here."
Simba's eyes grew open like a flower.
"I killed your father."
The young lion's body lit up like a wildfire. Him. Scar was the killer. All those years he spent away from home, running from what he thought was his mistake. All those years he could have spent with his family stolen from him...
"NRRGHHH!!!" Simba barked, suddenly thrusting free of his captors. In his bondage he dove into his Uncle's side, knocking the two of them down into the grass. Simba roared and squealed into his gag in fury. "MUWRDRUR!!"
Scar grumbled, twisting and punching the air to get his cuffed nephew off him. "NAGCK-- G-GET HIM OFF ME!!" Scar snorted in disgust
Simba's shoulders were grabbed and he was hurled back into the grass, the soldiers towering over him, stamping and punching into the young lion's flesh at every space and opportunity.
Scar quickly righted himself, brushing the grass and dry dirt from his silky robes as Simba was tossed into a relentless beating. He retained his usual posture and approached the mess of punches and painful, muffled yelps.
"Enough." Scar ordered with a raised fist; the beating stopped.
Simba laid there in a crater, bruises forming all over his body. His breaths were heavy and laboured. The hits had been hard and brutal. No bone or muscle was spared from the agony.
Through warbled ears, he heard Scar and the soldiers muttering on. When he was pulled back up to his knees, he looked up and saw Scar, fading off back down the hillside and towards the castle; he only made out one phrase;
"We drowned his father just fine... but this time, there's no need to find the body."
Simba sensed two sets of arms lock around him, dragging him across the sand. His vision was giving in. His eyelids were heavy as he watched his Uncle's foggy brown and black silhouette stroll off and out of his sight.
No... h-have to... s-stay awake...
The young lion's eyes fell level with the ground, watching the sand trail behind him as he was dragged off. It was too much.
Hel-lp... n-nnoo....
But the damage was done. Simba fell limp within their grasp. Now there was nothing for him but a long journey, many miles out of the city.
* * * * * * * *
"Uhhnnn..."
Simba woke to feel two arms dragging him. He hung barely conscious in the grip of two tall soldiers, his chained legs trailing through the sand.
His head pulsed and ached, the young lion having a hard time clutching onto what remained of his consciousness. He tried to make anything out, tried to lift his head up. But he was so tired. Distant conversations echoed through his ears; words were hard to distinguish.
And then... he felt like he was floating. No. He was falling.
His red mane whipped and smothered over his eyes, blotting his view. The air howled up at Simba's bound body as the blast of cold air gave him enough urge to open his eyes. He tugged feeblishly at his hands to find that his arms were still bound by the iron cuffs.
Gazing up, through his swishing red mane he saw the blurry outline of a lion, leaning over the side of a cliff, waving to him before disappearing.
"Uhhhn..." Simba's eyes wavered tiredly, his body still pulsing with pain as he prepared to pass out yet again.
BSCHUMM!!!
Suddenly his whole body was swallowed by icy water. Simba was whacked into full alert.
"HOHLPHH- MPH--" he spluttered out pathetically, squirming with horrid discomfort as the water stabbed through his fur and soaked him instantly to the bone. Feeling a heavy pull at his ankles, he gaped down and let out a piercing choke of terror.
A heavy ball at the end of a long chain was attached to the metal fetters on his feet.
"Nomphh... N-NOPHH--BHHBL!!!" the young lion wailed in horror as icy water poured through the soaked cloth and into his mouth.
Frantically, Simba began struggling with everything he had. He twisted and curled and thrashed his limbs about, heaving with every ounce of strength. Simba strained and kicked his legs, desperate to slip the shackles from his feet. When that failed he clenched his fists and tried to free his arms, trying in vain to slip the bonds from his wrists. "Mmgphhh--hwup-hh--hnnggh--!!"
But it was useless. The cuffs latched tight into his fur, metal digging hard into his wrists and ankles. He couldn't break them with strength alone.
"Uh-hhmm-- hngg--n-NO!" the young lion spluttered out, arching his back as the iron ball pulled him to his doom, tugging and wreathing against the restraints.
He gazed up at the surface as his lungs began to burn for oxygen. The light began to slowly snuff out as Simba sank deeper, deeper into the darkness... about to become another of his uncle's victims.
"Whobhh--nnphh!! O-Ohhhm, n-no...!!" the young lion moaned deliriously through his gag. Still he tried to break free, battled his bonds with everything he had. But it was no use. He sank down towards a dark, cold tomb. Knowing the truth, knowing who killed his father, knowing that Scar wanted Nala for his own... and he would be taking those secrets with him to his watery death, down to the bottom of the cold African sea.
"Unnnhhh... UNF-!!"
The iron ball slammed into the muddy bottom with a hard thud, hurtling Simba into the ground and throwing up a blinding cloud of sand and sediment all around.
Bubbles pumped from Simba's nose as he swished himself back upright, oxygen dribbling from his stinging lungs. The terrified lion swayed through the water, chains clinking and the metal cuffs rubbing hard into his flesh. "Hnnnhh--hhn!!"
Throbs of exhaustion began to overcome him, as the burn for oxygen started to hurt his chest. This couldn't be it. No. He couldn't let Scar, his own uncle, defeat him like this... he had to escape. Somehow.
When suddenly, Simba froze.
Something was falling through the water next to him. A faint glisten of light. Wafting his red mane as it went over his eyes... he saw the glisten of a small metal key.
"HOPPHH--" Simba went to scream in shock, but more seawater spilled into his mouth. The soldiers must have dropped it accidentally, or maybe thrown it in to ensure no clues were ever found... with eagle-like eyes Simba gaped at it as the key dribbled down and landed upright in the sand.
This was it. His only chance. His one shot to survive this.
Simba conjured up every speck of effort, every muscle and bone. He HAD to get that key. Tucking his knees into his chest and balling his fists up tight, eyes screwed shut...
"HNN---DUGGHHH!!!"
The boy thrust towards the key. His mane flew up in front of his face and his eyes shot open, glaring with determine and panic. The iron fetters gripped tight and hard into his ankles as the metal ball drained the momentum from him.
Simba lurched his head over his shoulder and gazed at the iron weight nauseously, watching it drag him back and sink into the soft mud.
He gazed back at the key. He thought of Nala, his friends... everyone who would have no idea what happened to him. Dizziness was slowly overwhelming him and his cheeks were bright red with a desire for fresh air.
No. He wasn't going down without a fight.
"HNGG--Gahh!! Ugghh!!" Simba roared, wreathing and kicking towards the key, against the mammoth weight of the iron ball. The metal bonds kept his limbs bound securely, chains rattling in his efforts. Thick banks of sand and sludge dragged against the iron ball, making Simba pay dearly for every attempt... the lion's muscles ached, his ankles burned and his head was spinning.
"UGHH!! UHH!! D-DAGHH!! UGHH!!" Simba barked and whined with despair as he heaved against the bonds, thrusting himself towards the key. The iron ball almost seemed ready to slide under his efforts...
...but it was just too heavy.
Simba's eyes rolled dizzily as a great cloud of bubbles plumed up from his nostrils. His lungs had caved in.
"G-Gohhh..."
His vision blurred and darkened. Before his eyes narrowed into slits he saw the key, sitting there teasingly in the sand beside him. And then... Nala's face. Everything faded into darkness. The pain slowly ebbed out, and pure exhaustion began to take over. Like he was falling asleep.
Simba went limp, allowing the current of the water to take him. Slowly the young lion drifted down through the water. Simba would die there, alone in the abyss. Nala would become Scar's wife. And his father's killer would still wander free, unpunished. The Pridelands were lost.
"Nala... I-I'm s-sorrryyyy..."
Simba passed out. Scar had beat him. Now he was doomed to spend the rest of his days, trapped at the bottom of the ocean; suffering an eternal punishment for stepping in Scar's way.
Or so he thought.

A slim dark figure swooped down through the water towards him.
* * * * * * * *
"HEUPHH--" Simba spluttered.
He collapsed forward onto grass, puking up several pints of salty water and sediment. Was it over? Was he dead?
Sucking in rich oxygen, Simba looked up with blurred eyes. He made out the silhouette of a baboon.
"R-Raff...f-fik-krrck--"
The old monkey shushed him with a finger, water dripping down his face, the painted patterns now running down and staining his fur.
"Hush yourself, Simba. You must rest."
Seawater pouring down his mane, Simba coughed and landed face-first into the ground, soggy beneath his soaked body. "H-How.. hhnnn..." he moaned, his vision still giddy and sparkly. "H-Hkow-ow d-did y-you fkk-k-find me...? S-Sk-c-car, h-khe... h-he trkk-k-- he tri-ried to k-kill m-me...-kkh--"
Rafiki nodded, patting the lion's back hard.
"Oh no... it is not your time yet. Scar has evil plans. He wants to enslave Nala as his own and drag the Pridelands into another useless war. But he is not stupid; he knows you're the only one who can stop him." the monkey said, grasping his wooden staff.
"But a tired, half-drowned hero is no use to his cause... for now, you must recover." he said as he helped Simba wobble up onto his knees.
Simba rubbed his sore wrists, red marks left over from the iron cuffs. "But... what about her...? I-I can't just sit aside...!! I have to go save her!!" he mumbled, stumbling forward clumsily and almost falling over.
Then, the baboon let out a chuckle. "Your thirst for justice never wanes. You truly are like your father." Rafiki said, wrapping a thick linen blanket around the lion's shoulders.
"Scar is patient. I will throw as much time between now and then as I can." the old monkey said, helping the weak lion up onto his wobbling legs.
"A half-drowned hero is no use to his cause. Scar thinks you are dead. With this in mind, he won't rush anything now. We must be slow and careful. We must prepare our next actions wisely."
Simba groaned smugly, tucking into the blanket as the night cold began to set in, making him shiver. "I just... I hope Nala will be okay till then."
Rafiki tutted. "Nala is a strong girl. When I return, I will tell her what unfolded here. And when you are well enough... we will make our move."
Simba listened on, staring at the distant lights of Scar's castle in the distance. His uncle had tried to drown him... but he was far from defeated. With a long smirk of hope, he turned to Rafiki and nodded.
"Let's do it."