The Devil And The Deep Blue Sea | Part Twelve
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Summary: An attack on Arthur’s imprisoned brother Orm leaves him with no choice but to rely upon you, a friend made due to unfortunate circumstances nearly a decade ago, to provide safe haven while he restores peace to Atlantis. Suddenly tasked with sheltering a sullen former king results in a very different summer vacation than you had originally envisioned, but changes both of your lives forever.
Warnings: Violence, Weapons, Mentions of Death, Orm is Frustrating in Public, Arthur is a Puppy, Alfred is Vital, Reader Injury [broken bones, facial wound, blood] - 18+ only.
Word Count: 2651
The day of your departure arrived – with no word from Arthur. As you and Orm had since discussed, he packed up the things you had purchased for him in a spare duffle bag, and along with your suitcase, cooler, and garbage you loaded the boat and took off together. Orm would return home with you for the time being. Much as you both felt anxious about the lack of contact from Arthur, you were both keenly aware that it would not be safe to take Orm to Amnesty Bay – or anywhere too close to the ocean, until Arthur sent word.
The length of time he had spent with you only indicated the difficulty Arthur must be having with the faction that had disobeyed his wishes and attacked Orm. You loaded the car and hauled the boat up onto the launch ramp for the next family members to use on their arrival. You looked to him as you opened the passenger door.
“Did you ride in any vehicles during your trip up with Arthur?” You asked.
“Briefly. It was not the most comfortable but was bearable.” He replied, sliding in.
You pulled down the seatbelt.
“You probably don’t need this, but I can be fined money if you’re not wearing it.” You showed him where to click it in before closing the door and climbed into the driver’s side. You took it slower than you were certain Arthur had driven, and once you were on the pavement you looked to him.
“I need to go into town to get us some gas, there’s not a lot of chances after we leave the area…”
“I’m prepared for human civilization.” He nodded.
You pulled into town, driving along the lake that most businesses had been built beside. Pulling into the gas station, you filled the car efficiently, watching as vacationers walked past with cones holding a multitude of scoops of ice cream. You smiled softly and looked to him as you climbed back in the car.
“Just one more stop and then we’ll be on our way.” You drove a little further into town, parking across the street from the marina where a small seasonal ice cream stand was doing a brisk business. “Will you come with me?”
He nodded and undid his seatbelt, following you across the street to join the queue. You explained ice cream as he watched happy customers leaving the shop. When it was your turn, you gave him a brief rundown of the flavours and you each placed your orders. You pulled out your phone to pay, sliding the airplane mode off and blinking as your it lit up with an influx of notifications you had missed.
Orm led you to stand by the pickup window as you sorted through them, your eyes landing on a text from yet another new, unknown number. You muttered Arthur’s name bitterly and loaded it quickly.
They’re tracking you…they’re coming.
The entire happy summer scene around you narrowed to the scant words on the screen and you went cold. Your breathing shallowed. Orm was trying to get your attention, but you were overwhelmed with a fear you had never felt before.
The explosion from a plasma ray crashing into a nearby pleasure craft shook you out of your stupor. They were already here. You could feel the heat of the resulting fire even though it was fair distance away. Before you are able to clearly see who or what has come to kill you, Orm has swept you up in his arms, moving you to the other side of the small building, standing in front of you protectively to face the attackers.
The sound of a large aircraft permeated the marina, but you saw nothing to indicate where it was coming from.
You could hear the ominous clatter of armour approaching and peered around him to see at least a dozen armed soldiers in a muted shade of green. They were led by a figure in black with an almost comically large helmet with glowing red eyes.
“Orm Marius, we have come to see justice done!” It was difficult to discern who exactly was speaking at that point, but you were certain this was not going to end well. All was tense, each waiting for the other to make the first move.
There was a sound on the roof behind you and you turned with great trepidation to see figures shadowed by the sun behind you. You tried to shield you eyes to see more clearly until they were leaping from the roof to land in front of you alongside Orm. You immediately identified Arthur by his loosely flowing hair.
You exhaled a breath you had not known you were holding, looking to the six soldiers he brought with him, wearing red armour. Looking back to Arthur, you realized he was holding two…tridents?
“This is yours, little brother” Arthur growled, tossing the gleaming silver metal weapon to Orm who easily caught it, spurring their opponents forwarded into an attack.
The sporadic blasts of plasma rays encourage you to make yourself as small as possible against the wall of the building behind Orm, well aware of your human weaknesses. Arthur, Orm, and his soldiers quickly closed the distance to the opposing group, forcing them into hand-to-hand combat. Their skill with something so ceremonial as a trident left you speechless. You were staring openly at Orm’s strength and agility. There was a fluidity and grace to his ruthless fighting style, a stark and beautiful contrast that also took on a frightening edge as the casualties of his opponents began to pile up on the ground.
A flash of colour in the periphery of your vision pulled your attention away from the conflict in front of you and you tensed to see a soldier clad in green armor creeping up through the trees to your left. If you were to simply scream amidst the din of battle around you, it would only serve to create more confusion. And while your physical strength is nothing in comparison with this solider, he did not yet seem to be aware of your presence. You had the element of surprise, and you were not about to waste it and allow him to hurt either of the men in front of you, or their allies.
Creeping along the foundation of the building, you allowed him to edge closer before he stopped to aim him plasma ray at the group of unaware Atlanteans. Bracing against the wall, you pushed off, crashing into his armor. It felt as though you had slammed into a pile of bricks, save the sharp edges of the spikes on his helmet. You grit your teeth as one such ornamental detail gouged into your cheek.
But it had worked. The weapon fell from his hand, skittering across the ground and catching the attention of Arthur.
“Brokedown Girl!” He yelped, seeing you clinging to the armor of an enemy, before the fighter in black slashed at him with a wickedly sharp blade.
The soldier growled and easily threw you off him, the pavement of the marina parking lot rising quickly to knock the wind of out of as you landed on your side, arm thrown out to protect your head. A blur of motion tracked in front of your vision before you saw the flash of Orm’s trident as it sped towards the soldier who carelessly tossed you aside. You clenched your eyes shut before the crunch of its tines impacting the visor of his helmet reached your ears.
As you tried to get up and out of the field of battle your torso felt unstable and you groaned as your ribs shifted. Orm was at your side quickly pulling you up and you yelped but tried to steel your face, not wanting to worry him.
“I’m ok, I’ll be ok.” You panted once he had you sitting up, though it was painful to breathe too deeply.
His eyes scanned your face and as they landed on your cheek, his expression darkened. He rose with clenched fists, ready to demolish any combatants who remained, but all the soldiers in green were laying on the ground incapacitated while an Asian man you didn’t recognize was hauling the unconscious fighter in black into a motorboat before taking off.
Using a partially destroyed car beside you, you managed to get to your feet, swallowing your cries of agony as your ribs shifted once more. It didn’t hurt so much if you stood very, very still. Orm returned to your side, looking you over with intense concern but once again maintaining that respectful distance in public. He felt a thousand miles away.
Arthur rushed up to your side, wiping at the blood on your cheek with his thumb.
“Shit…I’m so sorry I tried to warn you…”
He looked to Orm has he stepped closer, fists once against clenched at his sides.
“Those were Xebelian soldiers…” He said through grit teeth and Arthur nodded with a deep sigh.
“Rebels who took offence to your failure to kill me…Recruited by Black Manta, but this is the last of them.” He gestured to the bodies, some dead, some living, being collected by the Atlantean soldiers who had arrived with Arthur.
You leaned against the shell of the car with a whimper you were unable to suppress and both brothers looked to you, brows furrowed in concern.
“We need to finalize things back in Atlantis…I don’t want to leave you alone, come with us, my Pops would love to see you…”
You looked between to two of them.
“Oh, there’s a hospital in town I can just…” You protested weakly.
Orm interrupted firmly, “We will escort her to your father’s.” He stated in a tone that brooked no argument and Arthur passed Orm his own golden trident before cradling you in his arms against his chest. You yelped and whimpered with each step, and he replied with muttered apologies, walking faster and faster until he was running up to a hi-tech jet that had landed near your car.
He jogged up the stairs with Orm hot on his heels, setting you in one of the seats and strapping you in. You pressed your head back into the head rest, trying to take slow breaths even though it felt like hot knives piercing your side with each inhale. A disembodied voice with a British accent filled the aircraft as the soldiers loaded into the back with their Xebelian cargo, Orm settling into the seat up front beside Arthur.
“Mr. Curry, I believe the lady passenger has several broken ribs, would you like me to administer pain medication?”
“Probably for the best, Alfred, and we need to get to Amnesty Bay immediately.”
“Right away.”
A tray with a cup of water and two white pills appeared from the side of the plane, moving to hover before you, and you wheezed out a laugh, the entire situation feeling utterly unbelievable. Your hands were unsteady but still functional enough to administer the dose as the stairs retracted into the plane. It hovered a moment before surging through the sky.
You clung to the arm rests with your eyes shut tightly, not even thinking about your vehicle or belongings back in the parking lot, simply trying to not vomit and lose the medication you had just swallowed. Mercifully, the flight was over in less than an hour, the plane landed smoothly, and you opened your eyes to the green expanse of Tom’s backyard with the lighthouse and Atlantic Ocean before you.
You let out a slow sigh and worked the clasps of your seatbelt open with your good hand, looking up as Arthur told Orm to head inside and change into a set of armor he’d also brought for him. Orm glanced back at you once, with what you recognized as concern on his features, and you tried to offer a brave, if shaky, smile. He nodded to his brother before exiting the plane with the Atlantean soldiers, who were managing the rebel soldiers. Arthur knelt in front of you before speaking to the disembodied voice once more.
“Does she need a hospital, Alfred?”
“No, Mr. Curry, I’ve performed a number of scans during the flight. Nothing but time and rest can heal her broken ribs now.”
“Right…you ready Broken Girl?” He grinned, reaching for you and you huffed.
“Arthur, you are the worst.” You hissed, bracing one arm against your ribs before sliding the other around his neck and biting the inside of your cheek in preparation.
The medication helped, somewhat, but it took a tremendous effort not to cry out in discomfort. Arthur carried you up the winding stairs to his old bedroom, walls covered in posters of Harleys and metal bands. He lay you down on the bed carefully before fishing in your pockets for your car keys.
“My Pops will be right in to check on you, ok? I’ll take care of your stuff. Thank you so much for keeping my brother alive.”
You nodded weakly, afraid to open your mouth lest a complaint escape, so you just squeezed his shoulders before settling back into the pillows. The pain medication’s hold over you grew stronger, making your eyelids heavy, and smudging the edges of your vision. You surrendered to it, letting your eyes slide shut as you listened to the sounds of Arthur and Tom and Orm speaking in the kitchen below you. Cupboard doors opened and closed; bottles rattled in the fridge.
They were gathering provisions, preparing to leave. Your eyebrows knit together into a frown, thinking it would have to nice to say goodbye – a proper goodbye to Orm. Having seen Atlantean battle firsthand, there was a very real possibility that even someone as strong as him might not come back. Tears stung at the corners of your eyelids, made you sniffle pathetically at the thought that you might never see him again and all you got was a parting glance and a one-sided nod in the jet.
The powerful medication made you lose time, and focus. Made you miss the sound of his footsteps on the stairs. The door to the room opened suddenly, making your eyes flash open to the vision of Orm standing there, in suit of black amor. He stepped in quietly, closing the door behind him before covering the distance to the bed in two long strides. He knelt by your side, setting something on the floor before removing his armored gloves and took your hand in his.
“Forgive me…I am truly sorry you are injured. It is all my fault...”
You put your other hand over his mouth and shook your head. “Stop that, I did this…I threw myself at a…. Xebel?” You repeat the word Arthur had used, reassured by Orm’s quick nod before continuing “soldier in armor…and I’d do it again…you’re safe.”
His eyes drifted to the wound on your cheek, and you watched as he pulled a strip of seaweed out of the pack he had set on the ground beside him. He applied a gray jelly to it from an unlabeled metal jar before carefully laying it across the wound. It was slimy and cold, making you wince a little.
“Leave that for two days, it should not scar.” He instructed before assessing your position in the bed.
He frowned a moment before collecting a few pillows from around the room before propping you up more, ensuring you were thoroughly supported before he nodded in satisfaction.
You looked up to him, bleary eyes full of uncertainty “Be careful…” You settled on, wanting to say more but truly not sure.
He leaned down to kiss you firmly, cupping your good cheek tenderly. “I will return…” And then he was gone. They were all gone. Off to Atlantis, leaving the house, leaving you and Tom, in eerie silence.
Read Part Thirteen
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