King of the Seven Seas (EMH) Chapter 7: Battle of Kings (1)

[Third person POV]

Arthur stood in silent preparation, the golden Atlantean armor gleaming as he secured it piece by piece over his body. The arm guards, shaped like sleek fins, slid snugly onto his forearms, while the rest of the armor shimmered like golden scales, hugging his body perfectly. He paused for a moment, lifting the ornate helm, staring into its polished surface.

He stared at it with silent intensity, lost in thought, when a familiar voice broke the quiet.

“Admiring your reflection?” came the teasing lilt from behind him.

Arthur turned his head and saw Mera floating gracefully into the room, her posture poised and her gown flowing behind her like drifting silk. She wore an oriental-style gown, her hair tied up neatly into a formal bun that seemed uncharacteristic.

Arthur blinked and stared at her for a long moment before he smirked slightly. “That really doesn’t suit you,” he said bluntly. “You look more beautiful without it.”

“Oh?” Mera raised a brow, an amused smile curling at her lips. “Is that so?”

Arthur’s breath hitched, realizing how that had sounded, he rubbed the back of his neck in embarrassment “I didn’t mean it like that… and you know it. I just meant… you looked better the way you were before. You looked like a warrior . Not… this version of you that looks like a sheltered queen”

“Hehe, don't worry I understand what you meant,” Mera said softly, the amusement fading into something more earnest. “And… thank you. I appreciate the compliment, even if it was wrapped in blunt honesty.” She drifted closer, her expression shifting to something more serious. “But that’s not why I came.”

Arthur turned fully to face her, sensing the change in tone.

“We had a plan,” she reminded him quietly. “Vulko and I—we could have gotten you out of Orm’s custody, helped you escape. But now…”

“Yeah,” Arthur cut in with a bitter tone. “Well I had a change of mind, but that shouldn't matter, I'm just the imbecile who doesn’t know any better, remember?”

Mera’s expression tightened at his words, guilt flashing in her eyes. “You know I didn’t mean that,” she said softly. She floated closer and placed a gentle hand on his arm. “I just… I couldn’t let Orm suspect we were on your side. I had to say things I didn’t mean. I’m sorry.”

Arthur exhaled sharply, the tension in his shoulders refusing to leave. “I’m sorry too. I know I messed up the plan. But when he insulted our mother... I just couldn’t sit there and take it.”

She saw the flicker of pain in his eyes, the way his jaw clenched as he tried to bury it.

“No, it’s alright,” she murmured, her voice laced with understanding. “I get it. I didn’t come here to reprimand you, Arthur. I just came to tell you… be careful, okay?”

Arthur looked into her eyes and managed a small, crooked smile. “Worried about me now?”

Mera narrowed her eyes at him, her tone dry. “I’m being serious. Orm isn’t just some petty tyrant. He is powerful and the people support him for a reason.”

Before Arthur could offer a comeback, a thunderous voice echoed through the surrounding waters, shaking the very walls.

“Now entering the arena, the one being challenged! The second-born son of Queen Atlanna, and the first-born of King Orvax! The one who currently holds dominion over the Seven Seas, The Ocean Master! Orm Marius!”

The waters trembled with roaring cheers and deafening applause. The citizens of Atlantis and its allied kingdoms were shouting Orm’s name with unwavering loyalty, their voices rising like a tidal wave.

Arthur’s expression hardened slightly as he turned toward the sound. “Guess that’s my cue.”

He picked up the golden helm once more, ready to don it, when Mera reached out and stopped him. In her other hand, she held out a weapon—his silver trident.

“Here,” she said, her voice firm. “Take it. And promise me something… promise me you’ll be careful.”

Arthur lowered the helm to his side and accepted the trident from her grasp. His fingers lingered on hers for a moment before he smirked. “Don’t worry, I’ll be careful. But you know, I heard it’s good luck for a princess to kiss a warrior on the cheek before he goes into battle.”

Mera gave him a pointed look. “I suppose that’s one of those surface-dweller traditions?”

Arthur only shrugged, that roguish grin still on his face.

Then, to his complete surprise, Mera reached up, placed her hands on his shoulders, and leaned in. She kissed him gently on the cheek, her lips brushing against his skin like the whisper of a current.

He blinked in astonishment, stunned into silence, his fingers slowly rising to the spot she kissed.

Mera gave him a small smile. “Now go. They’re about to call your name.”

She turned and began to swim away, her gown trailing behind her.

Before she could get too far, Arthur reached out and tugged the pin from her bun.

Her fiery red hair immediately unraveled, spilling down like liquid flame, dancing and weaving freely in the water.

Startled, Mera reached up and touched her head, turning to face him with wide eyes.

Arthur twirled the pin in his fingers and simply said, “You look better with your hair down.”

Mera rolled her eyes, but there was a smile tugging at her lips as she continued swimming away—her hair trailing behind her like a crimson banner.

“And the challenger,” the announcer’s voice boomed across the massive arena, “the firstborn son of Queen Atlanna and Son of the surface dwellers. Known to many

 as Aquaman… Arthur Curry!!”

Arthur exhaled slowly as he placed the helm over his head, ‘Vulko, curse you, I know you had something to do with that’. He paused, his gaze drifting toward the direction Mera had gone. A sigh escaped his lips, barely audible under his breath.

“What a shame…” he muttered, before straightening and propelling himself toward the arena’s entrance above.

As he disappeared into the column of light and bubbles, Mera paused in her swim, floating in silence. Her emerald eyes remained fixed on the trail Arthur had left behind—just a scattering of fading bubbles in the still water. She closed her eyes, letting out a quiet sigh, and turned away, shaking her head as she swam back to the royal seating.

The arena was no simple battleground. It resembled an ancient coliseum, grand and formidable, carved from blackened volcanic rock and reinforced by coral pillars. In the center was a massive stone platform suspended above a glowing ring of magma. From the high walls surrounding them, waterfalls of molten lava poured down in shimmering veils, lighting the arena in a hellish glow. The seabed around the platform boiled and churned, the water bubbling with lethal heat.

Above it all, from a massive shell-shaped stage, an octopus banged rhythmically on an array of drums using all eight tentacles. The beat was ominous and slow, echoing like a heartbeat through the watery expanse.

Arthur breached the arena from below just as the stone opening sealed behind him with a dull thud. Unlike the thunderous applause Orm had received, Arthur was met with a hostile reception. Boos, jeers, and hisses erupted from the crowd, a tide of disapproval crashing down on him from every direction. The disdain was palpable.

High above in the royal box, nobles and monarchs from the various sea kingdoms watched intently. King Ryus of Xebel sat stiffly on his royal sitting, his expression unreadable. Mera took her seat beside him, arms folded, her jaw clenched tightly. Beside her, Vulko stood with his hands clasped behind his back, eyes never leaving the arena floor.

Across the stadium, seated upon a throne of bioluminescent kelp and carved sapphire, sat another monarch. Those around him had skin that was a deep ocean blue, his eyes sharp as his pointy ears. His legs were crossed casually, and his feet—adorned with small wings—rested on the ottoman. The fluttering wings shimmered as he watched Arthur with growing curiosity.

Meanwhile, Arthur stood firm, undeterred by the crowd’s fury. His eyes were locked on Orm, who stood at the opposite end of the platform. Orm’s armor gleamed in shades of silver and black, mirroring Arthur’s in design but darker in intent. A navy blue cape fluttered behind him.

Arthur raised his voice, calm but sincere. “You know, before all of this… when I first learned I had a little brother waiting for me at the bottom of the ocean, I wanted to find you. I wanted to meet you.”

Orm narrowed his eyes but didn’t speak.

Arthur continued. “Especially after Mom died… I thought maybe you were grieving alone. I hated the idea that I wasn’t there for you. That I couldn’t be the brother you needed.”

“You think I needed you?” Orm spat, venom rising in his voice. “I held nothing but resentment for you. You’re the reason she was executed! Her death rests entirely on your existence!” His voice cracked like a whip. “It was your fault! All of it!”

The two began to slowly circle one another, tridents in hand, the silence between them stretched and taut.

“I know…” Arthur said quietly, his voice weighted with pain. “It’s a guilt I carry every single day. My sin to bear… and one I've tried to atone for time and time again.”

“Is that why you stand against me now?” Orm scoffed. “Out of guilt? For atonement? How pathetic.”

Arthur didn’t flinch. “I don’t know how long you got to spend with her… but if you knew her at all, even a little, then you know she would never approve of this. She would never want this war.”

“Her approval?” Orm sneered. “Why should I give a damn about what she would have wanted? Her love for the surface is what killed her. Her compassion made her weak—flawed. Just like her trident you wield.”

He spun his own weapon in his hand, its edges catching the glow of the magma. “My trident belonged to our father and It has never known defeat!!”

Without another word, Orm snarled and charged.

Arthur didn’t hesitate.

The water around them churned as both brothers surged forward, the currents bending and twisting in their wake. Their tridents met in the middle of the platform with a deafening clang, the force of the impact sending out a shockwave through the surrounding water, rippling the magma and shaking the very platform beneath them.

Their battle had begun.