"Arthur, what are you going to do with him?'' Mera raised her eyebrow and crossed her arms. Her red hair flowing around her, perfectly contrasting the emerald nightgown she was wearing. "And why must we discuss this in my bedroom?'' The woman looked pointedly at the regular intruder in her personal quarters. It was becoming a habit of his, and Mera wasn't exactly sure if she was consensual with it.

A kiss was shared between them, yes.

But was it a romantic one? Or one of a fear? Or adrenaline?

It was during a war, her senses overwhelmed with different types of feelings. Not that it explained her primal action of practically sucking the air out of him. She was...she was not going to think of it. A solution to quite a lot of problems in her life these days.

Ignore the whole situation.

But he kissed her too, didn't he? He didn't behave like it. And what was with the sisterly hair kiss? He did say she thought of her as his friend. She was analyzing this too much. Apparently.

Mera did not care. Arthur was her King. Master of all the seas.

More important matters were at hand.

"Maybe because you're avoiding me?'' He looked at her with one crooked eyebrow. A silent laughter crinkling the corners of his eyes.

What an excellent observation. He must have thought really hard to actually get to it. Especially with how pointedly she actually did it.

Dear girl, he saved you and your people, be a little bit more grateful and not so judgmental, her inner thoughts weren't doing her justice either. He wasn't responsible for her inner struggles, but he damn well wasn't helping her with them either.

"Your ignored my first question,'' the red-haired woman stated.

"But I did answer your second one,'' he wriggled his eyebrows and she sighed. A child. That was her new King. "And you ignored mine, we're even then.'' He shrugged and sat down on her bed. It even squeaked under his weight. Her sheets were wrinkled beyond repair in a blink of an eye. Such a shame.

"Can you, please, sit somewhere else? Manners are of great importance to a King.'' Mera hissed at him through gritted teeth.

"I feel quite comfy here, Mera. You could even join me instead of sitting there with arms crossed, looking rather deprived." Arthur put the golden trident next to one of the bed's crystal pillars. The interior of the room matched her temperamental character. From the splashes of fierce red across the tapestries to the luxurious looking chandeliers and crystal like furnitures with golden ornaments. It spoke of exquisite taste mixed with erratic personality.

"Did you come here to test my nerves? Or are you of some need of... how did you call it? Ass-whooping.'' He put his hands on the bed behind his back, leaned his weight on them and spread his legs obscenely. Mera bristled at the man's audacity.

"I can say I have thought of sparring with you, which we both know how it will end, of course, but I was thinking of how long you could last before yielding,'' she wasn't sure if he was talking of actual sparring session or about something else entirely, but the red-haired princess decided to humor him for once.

"I can inform you that my stamina is quiet resilient,'' she moved slowly towards him, knowing her nightgown wasn't doing much in covering her body, but the redhead couldn't care less. Mera stopped exactly at the open space between his thighs. "But you'll have to see for yourself another day, I'm afraid, now I require some sleep and it would be best if you shut the door from its other side.''

His large hands fisted the silky covers of the bed, her thighs brushing against his. Arthur smiled at her genuinely, taking the princess by surprise.

"It will be my pleasure,'' his voice rasp with unsaid words and restrained emotions. Arthur stood up, his body millimeters away from hers. "Sweet dreams, Y'Mera.''

He grabbed his trident and made his way towards the door.

"You still didn't answer my question, Arthur,'' she sat on her bed, exactly over the spot, where he had been sitting just a minute ago, and started braiding her hair for bed.

"My little brother has decided to talk.'' He stopped at the door. "I have still not decided of a proper redemption for him.''

"Be careful, Arthur, he is capable of a lot more than you can think of.''

Orm Marius felt the presence of his older brother a lot sooner before he stood right in front of the glass cell they kept him chained in. His own guards stood behind the repulsive bastard. They had betrayed him. All of them. It proved him right why he relied much more on fear and strength than trust. Alliances could easily change. Subjects were bound to be manipulated. The moment you start treating them like something more, they stab you in the back. In the most hideous of ways. Loyalty was a double edged sword.

Oh, how he would enjoy corrupting them all. Orm was going to retrieve what was stolen right under his nose. The bastard didn't have the slightest idea what was coming for him.

He would have laughed sinisterly, if he didn't wear a mask of powerlessness, of dejection. The soft heart of his brother would be his doom. The man should have killed him while he had the chance.

There would be no second one. Orm was going to make sure of it.

This is what he got for trying to protect his kingdom, his oceans, his fellow Atlanteans. He knew there were still some left who thought the same way he did, but they were not going to voice their opinions on the matter. Not with their new King trying to defend the idea of surface lands and water being one whole.

One whole, but Atlanteans couldn't breath on the land, the same goes with the the bastard's people in the water. One whole, but they were incompatible. Those humans, who polluted their kingdoms, their homes, who wanted nothing more than to dominate and destroy. His mother's words still rang through his ears.

Such a lie.

She was blinded by her feelings and tragic love. So selfish and egoistical. She would sacrifice her people, her identity, her world, just so she could see a combined world of both humans and Atlanteans living peacefully together. As if humans could do anything in a peaceful manner.

Savages.

"Leave us alone.'' The guards nodded their heads respectfully at Arthur's command and made their leave quietly.

Orm stood up and walked closely to the glass. Calm and collected. With head bound down and hands clasped behind his back. He wore a humble white scaled body suit, unlike the man in front of him. Gold and green clashed with everything simple and sterile in the cell. His dark long hair floating recklessly around him.

Such a repulsive sight.

A half-breed, who knew nothing of their ways and cultures. An imposter.

"You came rather quickly.'' Razor sharp blue eyes burned through Arthur's body.

"Well, I went to see Mera first, you know, talk to her how should I 'approach' you,'' he started walking around the place with thoughtful face. "But she was getting ready for bed, didn't wanna share much information, ex-fiancé and shit, I suppose, and kicked me out. Such an inhospitable environment you have here in Atlantis.''

"You don't go to an unmarried woman's bedroom only because you...'' Orm's scolding growl was rudely interrupted.

"Ah, quite the old-fashion guy, aren't you? Don't worry, little brother, your time will come soon enough,'' Arthur smirked as he saw one of the vein on Orm's forehead becoming a bit more prominent.

"You incompetent half-breed...'' Orm hissed, his humble serenity forgotten, but interruption followed yet again.

"Woah, woah, there, buddy, weren't we gonna talk?'' Arthur run his fingers through his head, completely forgetting he was underwater and being surprised with the smooth texture of it. He sighed and looked at his brother. "Look, I'm not the best with speeches and shit, but I want you to know that I do not wish to rule or even participate in these kind of stuff, but I had no choice.''

"Don't patronize me, King,'' Orm sneered, the last word leaving a foul taste in his mouth. "You and your people started all of this! You only take and take without any consequences, and when you finally have it all, you do not wish the responsibilities that come with it.''

"I've never wanted your crown or your throne. My only wish ever was to simply see our mother.'' Arthur raised his voice in frustration. Damn these Atlanteans, bringing out every emotion in him. He really was at the brink of his patience with everything in the past few days. Political meetings were his 'favourite'. "I know you'll never change your mind if I just keep you in a cell.''

"So what are you going to do? Bring me into the castle and spend your glory days looking behind you back for me not to challenge you for the throne? You will divide our kingdoms!'' Orm growled in hatred and waited to hear his death sentence.

"To be honest, you never united them in the first place. Your dictatorship and thirst for power almost put an end to them all. Have you ever thought of the consequences of going into a war with the surface? Just the nuclear weapons alone are enough to put the end of life in the oceans. And your weapons and abilities could wipe out whole cities with millions of people.'' Arthur was pretty sure this was the longest tirade he has ever said out loud. And that said a lot, having in mind that he fought injustice almost everyday. But it was easier to beat some sense into criminals' minds than to try and talk them out of their ways. Arthur felt tired and needed a beer. Like really soon.

"Then we shall let them continue polluting and destroying everything, is that your brilliant plan?'' Orm felt sick to his stomach. Was this the future of Atlantis?

"Of course not, are you even hearing yourself?'' Arthur looked at him as if he has grown a fishtail. "But I do have a pretty good plan,'' the bastard truly looked quite pleased with himself.

"Then, please, enlighten me?'' The prince looked at him skeptically, one blonde eyebrow raised.

"I think my plan rocks!'' Arthur looked at them from the blue sofa-like thing, on which he had decided to lounge and maybe take a secluded nap. If one more Atlantean came to him to congratulate and express their gratitude or need for guidance, he was leaving this place. For eternity.

"You are out of your mind!'' Mera scolded him from across the room and looked unbelievably at Vulko.

"Arthur, you should really think this through, before taking such a drastic measure.'' Vulko tried to interfere, to put some sense into him.

"Oh, he will do just fine.'' The King yawned in clear dismissal.

"Not about him we are worried.'' Vulko couldn't still comprehend what was happening, things have gone out of hand rather quickly.

"You can't send him to live with your father!'' Mera was not backing down either. Her red hair seemed even redder when she was angry. Temperamental woman! Not that he minded.

"Who said anything about Orm living with my father? Were are you getting this from?'' Arthur looked at them puzzled.

"It is not the way you should use to show Orm the surface world.'' Vulko tried to reason with his King. Complete madness was upon them all.

"Then were are you going to send him? He can't just live there all alone!'' Mera was furious. What was Arthur even thinking? Sending Orm to the surface dwellers to learn and see their ways of life. It wouldn't lead to anything good, she was more than sure of it.

And Orm? Orm was even more than furious. The moment she woke, there was a message waiting for her about what had happened during their talk while she had been taking a rest. And it was not pretty in the least. Mera didn't know anyone capable of destroying the prison cell's glass as if it was nothing more than a thin layer of plastic. The remnants of their fight still visible on Arthur's suit and face.

Orm had been sedated and locked into a more secured cell. Arthur hadn't returned the hits.

"I know just the right person." Arthur looked locked his eyes with hers, smirking. Mera already regretted she had asked in the first place.

"Xantia.'' The blond woman called, but was ignored. Again. "Xantia! Are you listening to me?''

"Hm,'' was the only answer Olivia Ortega got before she decided it was a lost cause. Nobody could talk to the woman when she entered her creative zone.

"You are unbelievable!'' The dark-haired woman rolled her eyes. She had been sitting here for three bloody hours, her whole body was aching. Why did she even want to be tattooed again was beyond her comprehension. "Are you close to finishing it up?''

"Hm.''

Olivia gritted her teeth and willed herself to sit still for a few more minutes and bear the familiar pain. Before getting up and slapping the shit out of her friend out of boredom, she decided to point her attention elsewhere. Like through the window where the sun was reflecting everywhere it could, making the Tuesday afternoon in Barcelona quite peaceful. Unlike the gloomy weather in Glasgow, where they spent four years being flatmates.

"Finished.'' Xantia's familiar raspy voice startled her.

Olivia quickly got up from the leather chair and practically ran to one of the mirrors. During the process of getting tattooed by Xantia she often forgot what an amazing gift the woman had. She had the ability to make the ink appear as if it had a life of its own. Every petal of the flower, every thorn, the details where unbelievably real. The colouring was beyond her imagination.

"You like it?'' Xantia was tidying her workspace, trying to hide her smile. Nothing made her feel more valuable than her clients appreciating her work and art.

Olivia smiled mischievously and out of nowhere enveloped the blond haired girl in a tight hug, not caring that as always it was one-sided. The older woman just wanted to express her gratitude in her way.

"As much as all your other tattoos on my skin!'' She released Xantia and went for her purse. It was pay time.

"Oh, no, no, consider it a small wedding gift just for yourself,'' Xantia shrugged and continued cleaning her tools. She was really happy for her friend even if that meant they would be spending even less time together. As long as Olivia was glowing with happiness, Xantia would do anything to keep it that way.

Even though her mother's words still echoed through her mind.

"You'll always be alone, Xantia, nobody wants a woman unable to express her feeling.''

And the worst part of it was that her mother was one of the most intelligent people she knew and as always she was right, Xantia knew it deep down.

"Just like your father.''

"So we are looking for this 'right' person at a...'' Mera squeezed her eyes in concentration. "...tattoo studio?'' Mera wanted to slap herself for even thinking that this could turn out alright, but not as mush as she wanted to slap the idiotic man next to her, who was grinning like a madman. This was a mistake. A big fat red alert mistake.

"There isn't a better place for her to be at, believe me,'' and with that he opened the door while Mera sighed and prayed for patience.

The first thing that made Mera stop dead on her feet, was the clean and simply minimalistic interior of the studio. To be honest, she expected something more...Arthur. She didn't know how else to describe it as a style. There were sketches only at one of the walls with some personal decorations and photos on the others. Her attention was immediately caught by one of the photos. It was of a young woman, probably in her late teens holding some kind of a small black machinery with deep concentration over a muscular back, Arthur's younger face smiling cheekily back at her.

The next photograph was of the same woman, a few years older, her sandlike hair cut short this time, she was holding some kind of parchment, trying to hide her face with it, while an older woman, presumably her mother due to their similar looks, had put an arm on her shoulder, looking rather detached. There were a few more photos with Arthur, a dark-haired girl with luscious curls, some other people, presumably friends, and some of different buildings and sceneries.

"Mera,'' the red haired woman turned abruptly at Arthur's voice and came face to face with the woman from the pictures. Her hair still short, barely covering her ears, bangs were hiding grey calm eyes, her skin was pale with tattoos peeking from around her white t-shirt's collar and sleeves.

So this was the woman responsible for Arthur's body markings. Like fields of overlapping spearheads covering both his arms, shoulder down. Triangular shark teeth spread all over his sides and chest, and so many more markings on his whole upper body. Mera had spent quite the time studying them but never really knew the meaning behind. She wondered about what had Arthur explained the woman for her to be able to capture it permanently onto his body so perfectly and so Arthur-like.

Xantia was her name. Mera couldn't define the woman's exact nationality, not that she was profound in it, but Atlanna has thought her quite a few things about the surface dwellers and their countries. Arthur told her they were in Spain, in the capital of one of its regions, but the woman was definitely not from there.

She didn't meet Mera's eyes for more than two second, but offered her an arm, which the redhead took startled at how cold it was.

"You need a favour, don't you?'' Xantia turned her back on them and led them towards another room. It was something akin to a small living area with some rather comfortable looking soft chairs and one large wooden island in the middle. There were lots of flowers at every corner and piles of various of sketches everywhere. One of the walls was all glass, letting them look at the courtyard of the house, where the sunny weather made the grass even greener. A light breeze was ruffling the leaves of the small trees and bushes. Mera still couldn't cope up with the feeling of wind against her skin. Quite the strange sensation.

Xantia motioned them to sit at the light green chairs after putting the sketches over a small cabinet at one of the corners.

Emerald met silver as both women looked at each other when Arthur sat down, looking rather silly while the chair made a dying noise as if at the brink of its life. How was Mera supposed to take him seriously as her King when he always behaved and did things like a child.

"It's a bit more than a favour,'' Arthur said when both women took their seats.

"I still hoped that you'd say you wanted another tattoo,'' Xantia sighed while fumbling with squeezed into a ball pieces of papers. "But let's hear it.''