Chapter Text
After months sitting on the throne Arthur finally gets a vacation. Or finally pisses off the court and his royal handlers enough they let him go to the surface. He's allowed to go under the stipulations he will stay with his mother and father, out of trouble, and be back before the solstice.
Arthur allows them the stipulations because upon his agreement he's allowed to bring Orm.
Since the night of the Rite Orm’s been allowed more freedom in the kingdom. Strangely Arthur noticed he also began to fade. Where Orm might have been challenging, pompous, frustrated in all that was happening under Arthur’s rule he just seems…passive.
He’s quiet all the time. When Arthur put forward the idea of going to the surface Arthur expected Orm to be his loudest critic. Instead, he had been silent. His pale blue eyes weren’t even angry, maybe a little bit sad. When Arthur insisted Orm come with him he just nodded and packed his things.
Arthur showed up in Orm's chambers in the dead of night. Orm didn't look happy, or surprised, or scared. He just grabbed his belongings and followed Arthur out through secret tunnels. They were the secret passages Atlanna told Arthur she used to escape so many years before.
Now her sons use them to slip by the royal guards and leave Atlantis together. Arthur wants it to be a fun adventure with Orm. But the man is like a ghost, hollow and dead.
After hours of silent travel, they reach the familiar coast. Coming home helps calm Arthur's nerves significantly. Jumping enthusiastically onto the dock fills him with a peace he hasn't felt in months.
Orm joins him if a bit more reserved in his landing. Arthur smiles at him, daring to hope. Big blue eyes blink at him and Arthur feels the familiar urge to just pull Orm into his arms and keep him safe. Arthur remembers what it felt like to sleep with Orm wrapped in his embrace. It felt good. He wants that again and more.
A whoop and holler from the lighthouse stops him from saying anything. Arthur turns and sees his parents walking down the stairs, beaming. He stops himself from racing up the dock to meet them, not wanting to abandon Orm's side.
He swings his mother up into his arms when he hugs her. She hasn’t come back to Atlantis since the time of the Rite. Arthur wouldn’t blame her if she never went back. He knew there was pain there, but here with his father she could just be Atlanna, not queen, not a holy being returned from the dead. She could pretend to be a human with no other cares in the world besides her own.
Her lyrical laugh glistens off the water below. Tom is quick to hug him next, just as excited as Arthur for the long stay. Arthur misses his father, his friend. Knowing Tom could never survive the trip to Atlantis will forever sit as an ache in his chest.
When they finally separate Arthur catches their mother stroking Orm's cheek looking about as worried as Arthur usually feels after talking to Orm. At least it's nice to know his fears aren't just his own paranoia.
"Orm." Tom says, somewhere between formal and awkward. Arthur wonders how their mother prepared his father for this meeting. And how Tom must be feeling about it.
"Thomas Curry." Orm straightens his back and dips his head low. Not a bow, but a clearly formal acknowledgement.
"Call me Tom." He puts out a hand.
Orm nods silently and takes the offered hand in a quick, firm shake. There's silence when they separate. Orm's eyes stay down turned. Atlanna's flash with worry as she watches him.
"So! How about we get you lot inside? Must be hungry from the trip, eh?" Tom breaks the tension. Arthur sighs and walks with his father. Orm and Atlanna walk arm in arm up the stairs and into the lighthouse.
Arthur takes his old room and is happy to see the spare room across the hall converted to a guest room for Orm. They are the only rooms on the upper level with the best views of the ocean below and a short staircase away from the upper deck that encircles the huge lamp of the lighthouse.
In fresh surface style clothing, they come back down to the main floor where Tom and Atlanna have set a table with lunch. Orm scratches at his chest and arms, discomfort clear on his pinched, pretty face.
"How do you deal with the dryness?" He asks as they take their seats at the small table. Arthur winces. He never thought of the advantages his surface heritage gave him. Transitioning from the sea to the land was barely even noticeable anymore. Dry one place, wet another, it was easy. But for someone like Orm, who spent nearly the entirety of his life underwater everything must be so different.
"Drink a lot of water. And lotion helps." Atlanna places a large cup in front of her youngest son.
"We'll have to do some family trips to the beach." Tom chimes in.
Atlanna laughs fondly. "When I was first pregnant with Arthur I would spend hours there."
Arthur smiles watching the love pass between his parents’ eyes. It felt good having them back together, remembering all of those years Tom lived alone. He turns to find Orm staring down at his food, not moving to eat or drink anything. How much Arthur wants to say something to make his brother snap out of it.
"I notice you do not have a royal escort." Atlanna says, looking directly at Orm. The blond prince looks up at his mother’s words. His breath catches on pink lips as he moves to speak, then settles as Atlanna watches him with her knowing gaze.
"I will defer to my King for that answer.” Pale blue eyes turn to Arthur. Tom chuckles and stands to walk to the kitchen.
Arthur wants to kick Orm under the table but knows he’d be caught too easily. “I hate that pomp and circumstance bull. We slipped out before they noticed." Arthur shrugs. Tom just rolls his eyes, but Orm's scowl is only outdone by Atlanna's.
“You’re King of Atlantis, Arthur. That pomp and circumstance isn’t just for your benefit. Your people like to know you’re safe.” She offers diplomatically.
“I can protect myself.” Arthur feels a strange sort of shame. And a weird giddiness. He is so rarely scolded by his own mother. He doesn't love it, but it rings with a strange sort of satisfaction.
“From every threat in the seven seas and beyond? Have you become all powerful and all-knowing while I’ve been away?”
Arthur balks. “Orm can protect me, too.”
Blue eyes pierce him. “And who will protect Orm?”
“I will.” Arthur knows it. Down to his marrow. He will kill anyone who threatens Orm.
“Arthur.” Her soft chide instantly steals the fight from him. He knows she’s right. He knew it before they left Atlantis. This is the very fight he wanted to have with Orm.
“Alright, alright. I’ll wait for the escort next time.” Arthur leans back in his chair. Tom emerges from the kitchen with beers in hand. Handing one to Arthur and one to Atlanna.
“Would you like something to drink Orm?” Tom asks.
Arthur turns to find Orm watching him with a strange uncertainty. The prince shakes his head at first. “Just more water, please.”
As Tom returns to the kitchen for more water Orm leans forward. His hand finds Atlanna’s across the table. “Will you ever come back to Atlantis?” Arthur can feel the raw vulnerability of the question. Orm’s not a statesman asking after the queen. He’s a son asking his mother if she will come home.
“One day.” Pain quiets her words. “Maybe.” Arthur can feel the hurt in his own chest. It means something different to him to never see Queen Atlanna in Atlantis again. But to know that it would always be a choice, to be with her or in the ocean. Arthur can’t even imagine how that must wound Orm.
He hides it well behind a solemn mask. Orm thanks Tom for the water when he returns and doesn’t say another word. Arthur knocks his knee against Orm’s and leaves it there. The other man doesn’t shift to pull away. Silence settles over the table as they finish eating. Orm takes a few bites and finishes two more glasses of water. It gives Arthur a little bit of hope.
Tom stands to collect the empty plates from the table. "You know you do look just like your mother." He offers, circling around Orm to grab Arthur’s plate.
"Yes, I have been told this most of my life." Orm’s quiet voice has no bite, but it’s obvious he’s not overly pleased with the statement.
Tom takes it in stride and knocks his hip into Arthur’s shoulder. "Yeah, now this one here has the misfortune of looking like me." Tom cackles his way to the kitchen as Arthur grouses.
"It's not a bad look." Orm says so quietly Arthur almost misses it. But he knows what he heard. Wide eyes lock on to the slight blush on Orm’s high cheekbones. "For a human."
It takes more self-restraint than Arthur knew he had not to whoop and holler. Orm thinks he doesn’t look bad. He admitted it. He even smiles that shark-toothed smile into his cup, refusing to meet Arthur’s eyes.
They move to the porch overlooking the dock and ocean. Tom and Arthur move aside to allow Atlanna and Orm time alone to talk. Arthur trades his father stories of the deep ocean and the glittering city of Atlantis for tales of the local pub and goings on of the small town. Arthur hangs on to his father’s words, so happy to be with him again.
Arthur hadn’t realized how much he missed the surface, and his father. Not for the first time he thinks about never going back. Catching sight of Orm puts all those thoughts aside. Being away from the throne means being away from Orm. Arthur would never again abandon his brother alone in Atlantis.