#neglectful and severely traumatized brother raise her to be a machine??? whats that you just want your really weird autistic queer son

[dysaniadisorder]

ok of all fictional characters like. being a girl Actually woulda fixed Sparrow Oak Garcia. like most characters, you know, its a little joke. but straight up if Sparrow transitioned none of that stuff woulda happened to her kids. she Would Not have treated them that way

[angmarwitch]

The third installment to my Orm One-Shots Series. Also my post-Valentines gift to you all. 

Summary: 5+1 kisses with our beloved King Orm. 

Warnings: Angst, Fluff, Happy Ending

I.

You fidgeted, uncomfortable at being under the scrutiny of the King and Queen of Atlantis. You felt small inside the massive foreign court, your young mind filled with fear and apprehension but you tried to put on your bravest face. There is nothing to fear, your Father had said before he sent you here, you are their guest, they will never do anything to harm you. 

“Welcome to Atlantis, princess,” Queen Atlanna greeted, descending from her throne gracefully, her silver hair forming an elegant halo behind her head.

You stared at her unabashedly, fascinated by her effortless poise and beauty. She was a good Queen, kind, strong and sympathetic to her people. You know of her past, the tragic tale of her adventure in the surface, of the shame she has brought to the royal lineage of Atlantis. Yet, you found yourself nonchalant about the history of this Atlantean Queen. If anything, you just idolized her even more, admiring the courage she displayed when she spurned her husband but saddened that she may never see the other family she had in the surface. 

“I thank you, your majesty.” You bowed, remembering your courtesies.

While you arrived in Atlantis to be fostered, you also represent your kingdom and your sister, who was originally the one planned to be sent here, so needed to show that you were from a good upbringing given that you are of royal descent. You can’t disappoint your parents. 

“Now, your highness, let me introduce you to my son, Orm,” Smiling genially, the Queen ushered the preadolescent boy who had followed her down to meet you.

The Crowned Prince of Atlantis was a little male replica of his mother in appearance, silver hair and blue eyes, but he boasted the same air of confidence and austerity as his Father, who had frightened you a bit. So, this boy was to be your sister’s betrothed and your companion in the duration of your stay here. You were curious as to what kind of person he if he was more his Father or his Mother. 

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, your highness,” you chirped extending your hand to coax a handshake. You were taken aback when he choose to place a quick, courteous kiss on it instead. 

“The pleasure is all mine, my princess." 

  II.

You found him in one of the sunken ships that settled below the city. He sat by the corner, arms hugging his knees, his face hidden by his disheveled blonde locks. You drifted towards him in an instant, wrapping him in an embrace, his head settling on your chest. Your heart broke at the first sobs he made. You wished you could do something to stop the pain and anguish he felt but it was impossible. No child should have been put in the same position as he was. It was one thing to witness his Father and Mother fight every single day but to watch her sacrificed to the Trench was very traumatic and unthinkable that you found yourself loathing his Father even more. What sort of Father would do that? You wondered and thank the gods that King Nereus wasn’t as terrifying and cold as Orvax was.

You worried about his future, about the kind of life he’ll have without Atlanna by his side. His mother had been his shield and rock, his tether to kindness and compassion. With Orvax becoming his only parent, you feared the kind of man Orm will become. But no, you were still here and you won’t allow that. You will do everything in your power to prevent Orm from becoming a monster like his Father. 

"I’m here, Orm,” you cried, pressing kisses on his brow, “I’m here.”

  III. 

“What’s this?” You asked, eyeing the box suspiciously.

You had been busy packing your things when he arrived, preparing for your long journey back to Xebel after all the years you have spent here. Despite the excitement, you felt about going home, you sensed a deep sadness and longing forming deep in your heart. You were going to miss Orm, your best friend in the entire world. The weight of the realization that you are going to be parted with the person you have spent half your life with, hit you, square in the chest, when Orm arrived at your door, a box in hand matched with an indescribable expression written all over his face. In his blue eyes, however, were a plethora of emotions that mirrored the ones you felt inside. 

“Open it,” came his abrupt reply.

Hands shaking a little, you opened the parcel in a sluggish pace and your eyes widened in surprise as you saw what was inside. It was a necklace, a simple pearl necklace. One that you had seen adorned Queen Atlanna's neck so many times. The trinket had been her favorite piece amongst the vast collection of jewelry owned and passed down by generations of Atlantean royals. You stared at Orm in disbelief, clueless and shocked as to why he would present you such a priceless piece. 

 “It’s a gift, something you would remember me by,” he said answering your silent question.

You gasped, he can’t mean that, can he? This necklace was meant to be given to a woman he was supposed to be married. Your sister in this case. You can’t accept it, it’s too much. 

“Orm…I… I don’t think…,” you started, unable to find the right words to say. You don’t want to disappoint him by rejecting it, at the same time, you don’t seem to have the will to accept it either. You weren’t worthy. 

“It’s too much, I know,” he cut you off, as if sensing your hesitation, “but you are very precious to me and I want you to have it.” He continued, his orbs softening into that pretty shade of blue that you have always liked. 

You were important to him. 

You could have sworn that your heart burst with so much warmth and joy at his words. Unable to suppress your emotions and gratitude, you jumped into his arms and gave him a quick peck on the cheek, never noticing the deep blush that formed in his face nor the lop-sided grin that painted on his lips. 

 IV.

“Let me out of here!?!" you screamed, furiously pounding on the door inside the room both he and your Father confined you in. 

Ever since the messy altercation with his half-brother and Mera, Orm had locked you up in one of the guest chambers of the castle, imprisoned like those dirty criminals dwelling in the dungeons below. He even restricted your daily activities and limited your means of communication to the outside world. You know that he was aware that you weren’t a part of the conspiracy to put Arthur on the throne, you were just as clueless to Mera and Vulko’s plans as he and your Father were. There was truly no concrete motive to keep you here. 

Unless, he was keeping you as a hostage, leverage to force your Father to continue fighting with him now that his engagement to Mera was severed. 

You stopped. 

No.

You refused to jump into that conclusion, rejecting any notion that Orm would use you as a pawn to whatever grand scheme he was fabricating.

You were his confidant and friend.

He would never do that to you.

However, the dark, devious part of your mind tells you otherwise and warns you that this man was no longer the same person you have befriended all those years ago. This wasn’t your Orm, this was a stranger, a product of Orvax's machinations. You have grown apart since he was crowned King. He barely even looks at you now. 

You failed him. You weren’t able to sway him from following the path of his Father. You didn’t want to admit it but you were terrified of the person he has become now. 

Your knees gave out, enfeebled by this newfound knowledge. You would have collapsed further down had it not been for the strong arms that caught you out of nowhere. 

You observed your former friend through hazy eyes, tracing the shape of his face with your eyes, as he carried you across the room towards the bed. You can’t see his entire face from your perspective but there was a discernable tightness in his jaw, you desired nothing but to raise your hand and touch the outline of his face and remove all the tension set there. You don’t know why he was here. Was he already tired of hearing you scream? You wanted to ask. 

However, as exhausted as you were by all the efforts you have exerted in trying to break out from this prison, you simply leaned to his warmth, enjoying one of the remnants of the familiarity you once shared. You were already drained and stressed out to start an argument. All you needed was for him to reassure you that everything was otherwise, that there was a silver lining to his plans. Adjusting in his hold, you set your head near his chest, letting the calm beating of his heart lull you to sleep. Everything pales in comparison to the semblance of peace and comfort his present proximity gives you right now. You want to savor it, to bask in it. 

Succumbing to the bone-tiring exhaustion of your predicament and the melody of his heartbeat, your senses neglected to register the lingering kiss he left on your lips when he placed your unconscious form on the bed. 

  V.

The battle had been over by the time you have escaped your confinement. There was no need to ask who the victor was as Arthur’s name resonated throughout the city. Huge crowds, the same crowd that once cheered Orm, had gathered in the streets to celebrate their new King. 

Watching from one of the towers of the palace, you waited for the ships to arrive, your eyes scanning every person that disembarked to see any signs of Orm. The more and more they come without you catching the glint of his blonde hair caused your heart to shatter into tiny little pieces. Arthur would never do anything to harm his brother nor would he decide to kill him, right? You shook your head, you have no knowledge of what kind of person this new King was but he does not depict a picture of a kinslayer. Yes, he may have been a bit uncouth and ignorant of the royal ways but Arthur Curry doesn’t appear to be a cruel or unmerciful man.

A few more ships came but still no Orm, your hope diminishing little by little. The chanting below waned, the crowd now trying their best to enter the palace to get a better glimpse of their new King. The whole city rejoiced, yet you stood there, waiting for what feels like minutes or hours. Your lower lips trembled and your hands tightened on the railings of the balcony when the last ship came, the frontrunner of his fleet, Orm’s own battleship. The thunderous beating of your heart drowned out the noises below and your breathing grew heavier as each of the crew stepped out yet without Orm in sight. You were on the verge of giving up, already prepared to retire to the solitude of your room, defeated and heartbroken, when you finally saw him, restrained by two guards, his trained eyes on the ground as he was escorted to the castle. 

Without having second thoughts, you yelled out his name, all forms of decorum long forgotten, and jumped off of the balcony with a clear destination in mind. Orm. You stopped a few feet away from him, chest heaving from swimming with a lightninglike speed, fearing that they will take him apart from you without a giving you a chance for a proper goodbye. 

"Orm,” you murmured his name meekly, slowly drifting towards him, your body becoming heavier as you inched closer. The former King, stubborn as he was, refused to look at you, his face still focused downwards, you sensed the shame emanating from him. 

“Leave us,” he grunted gruffly to the two guards who hesitated, unsure whether or not to follow the order of their former king-turned-convict. You shot them with a pleading look. The two exchanged glances before reluctantly releasing him.

“You shouldn’t have seen me like this,” he muttered, head still cast downwards. 

“I don’t care,” you answered. Your hands quivered as you reached to grasp his face, compelling him to look at you. You choked back a sob as you saw the shadow of defeat and humiliation projected on red-rimmed eyes. There was naught left of the proud young King, the replica of Orvax, who ruled Atlantis for following his Father’s death. Instead, the man who stood before you was the same boy you have seen and comforted in the sunken ship below the city. 

This was your Orm. 

“I don’t care," you repeated again. He smiled forlornly. 

"Will you wait for me, then?” he asked, resting his forehead against yours. 

“Yes,” you nodded fervently, closing your eyes as the new tears began to fall. “Always." 

The kiss you shared was fuelled by all the emotions you have repressed in all those years you have spent with each other. It was short, sweet, heart-wrenching, but it was definitely not goodbye. 

It was the start of a new future.

A better one. 

 Bonus

He watched you as you sleep, silently observing the steady rise and fall of your chest. He had always thought that you were beautiful but he thinks that nothing can compare to the picture you painted now, dazzling in the afterglow of childbirth. He knows you will contradict him like you normally do when he compliments you, so he opts to keep the thought to himself. 

Two years had already gone since his fateful battle with Arthur, and Orm still can’t believe that he was here right now, experiencing pure happiness and enjoying the marital bliss without a throne and crown, a burden which belonged to his brother now. No matter what their past had been, Orm was thankful that his brother fought him, as if it weren’t for Arthur, Orm wouldn’t get the chance to savor this kind of life. He shuddered, imagining what his life would have been had Arthur failed to dethrone him. He would have destroyed everything in his grasp, submitted to a loveless marriage, and lost the person he cared the most about.

A soft whimper coming from the bundle in his arms caught his attention and Orm looked down to see his newborn son shifting, his blue eyes so alike his fluttering open and his mouth forming into a silent snarl, ready to release a piercing wail anytime. Not wanting to wake his tired wife, the former king hummed a familiar lullaby his Mother had sung to him when he was a child. This immediately quieted the distressed child. 

Smiling proudly and contentedly, he placed a gentle kiss on his sleeping son’s forehead, happy that he was finally home.