Author's Note: Basically, I just had way too many feels about the look on Vulko's face when he saw that Atlanna had returned from the Trench. So it's entirely Willem Dafoe's fault that this fic exists. All rights to Aquaman belong to DC Comics.
Ebb and Flow
Atlanna was never supposed to rule Atlantis. She was born a second child, and grew up with the liberties that a second child could afford. While her brother, the Crown Prince, was forced into endless lessons on the precise protocol demanded of an Atlantean monarch, Atlanna instead roamed about her father's kingdom, poking her nose into everything.
A curious child. That was one of the things that Nuidis Vulko had loved most about her, from the time she was very small.
"And what may I do for you today, Princess?" he asked her when she appeared by his side one morning as he floated from one meeting to the next.
"I want to learn how to be a political advisor, like you," she informed him.
"Being a princess isn't to your liking?"
Atlanna stuck out her tongue.
"Being a princess doesn't mean anything in particular, unless you're going to inherit the throne," she complained. "And if I do have to inherit the throne for some reason, then all of the power will go to my husband, and no one will care about me once I produce an heir or two. Being a political advisor sounds much more fun. You get to influence decisions, and people actually listen to you."
Vulko could find no argument against that logic, so he took the young princess under his wing. She trailed after him to diplomatic meetings, peered over his shoulder as he poured over maps and screens and charts, read all of the reports that he didn't have time to squeeze into the day and summarized them for Vulko as they dashed from meeting to meeting. In the evenings, after Vulko's duties for the day were done, they would spend an hour sparring with their tridents, for the King insisted that if Vulko insisted on turning his daughter into a scholar and an administrator, then he must also train her to be a capable warrior. Afterwards, unless the princess was called away to a formal banquet, the pair would sit in Vulko's office and discuss everything that Atlanna had seen that day. The Princess was quick to observe details that Vulko himself had missed, and eager to learn everything she could. Vulko might have called her a veritable sponge, had he known the expression then. (He did not learn it until years later, when Atlanna's first-born son explained to him that dry sponges are extremely absorbent; Vulko had only ever encountered living sponges already submerged in the ocean.)
It was rare in Atlantean tradition for a princess to become the chief advisor to the crown, but thankfully, times were changing. After more than a decade of training and tutoring Princess Atlanna, Vulko readied himself to make the case to the Crown Prince that Atlanna be considered as his top advisor. No one besides himself was nearly so knowledgeable about the minutiae of goings-on around Atlantis, and Atlanna had become a favorite of the various diplomats from neighboring kingdoms that she had encountered at Vulko's meetings.
But then disaster struck. While traveling across the South Pacific, the ship carrying the King and the Queen and the Crown Prince was caught in some sort of strange underwater explosion, something violent and terrible that sent a domed cloud of boiling water vapor shooting miles above the surface of the water. Miraculously, the royals survived, but their skin was scorched raw, and not even the advanced medical technology of Atlantis could cure them of the mysterious illness that followed. Over the following years, Atlanna watched helplessly as her parents and her brother grew weaker and weaker.
"What caused it?" she asked Vulko over and over, her jaw set grimly in the knowledge that there was no way to save her family.
"I'm not sure," Vulko replied heavily. He knew nothing of Soviets or Americans or the Cold War or nuclear testing, but in his heart of hearts, Vulko knew that the stupidity and warmongering of humans on the surface were to blame. Still, retaliation would do no good; retaliation might even make things even worse for Atlantis, if the surface-dwellers had more such weapons. In the absence of monarchs well enough to make such decisions themselves, Vulko ordered expanded research into radiation shields for the city walls and any seafaring ships, and said nothing to Atlanna of his suspicions. It was the first and only time he ever failed to tell her anything other than the absolute and complete truth.
The Crown Prince was the first to succumb to radiation poisoning; then the Queen. It was not a shock to Atlanna, but a blow nonetheless. In his final months, her father negotiated with the Aristocracy and the Sea Fleet for Atlanna to wed a military commander, to ensure the stability of Atlanna's future reign and guarantee that the Fleet would not rise against her and her future husband.
The coalition ultimately chose Captain Orvax Marius. Atlanna met him exactly twice before the proposed wedding date, and found him to be horrifyingly conceited and impulsive both times.
"What am I going to do, Vulko?" she murmured to her advisor as she left the second of these meetings.
Vulko smiled sadly at his former protégée. She had grown into such a lovely young woman, but she still retained the curiosity that had characterized her youth. Orvax, on the other hand, lacked any curiosity whatsoever; he was arrogant and narrow-minded and rigid in his thinking. Both times he had met Atlanna, he had talked nonstop about himself, and the one time she had tried to get a word in edgewise, his hand had compulsively flexed towards his trident.
"You must have patience, Princess," Vulko counseled. "Perhaps he will improve with time."
Atlanna let out a strangled laugh.
"It's impossible to improve a man who won't listen to a word I say." She turned to her old friend and mentor. "I can't do it, Vulko. I can't marry someone who doesn't respect me at all. I'd rather die than face a lifetime of becoming slowly invisible by his side."
Vulko believed her, but he said nothing to comfort her. He could read the hurt and betrayal in Atlanna's eyes as she excused herself to hasten back to her private chambers.
That evening, however, Atlanna was roused from uneasy dreams by a sharp rapping on her door. When she answered, Vulko slipped inside and quickly closed the door behind him.
"We don't have much time," he explained in a low voice. "I've slipped a coding bug into the sonar system so that security currently shows several Xebelian ships floating just beyond our perimeter weapons' range. Orvax is monitoring the situation. It may be your only chance to escape."
Atlanna nodded. Vulko crossed the room and seized Atlanna's trident.
"Take this with you, in case you must use it. I pray that you will not have to. The glitch will prevent an escaping ship from reading on any scans for another ten minutes or so. You should be able to make it out."
Atlanna took the trident from Vulko.
"Where shall I go?" she asked quietly.
"Away," Vulko answered, because he did not know where his princess would truly be safe. But to comfort both of them, he said, "You are a princess of Atlantis, Atlanna. The tides will keep you safe, if you let them bear you where they will."
He sank into a low ceremonial bow before her.
"If you would be so kind, Your Highness," he added, raising his head, "I must be above all suspicion if I want to avoid an unwanted trip to the Trench. It will be best if it appears that I tried to stop you from fleeing and failed."
Atlanna smiled at him, her eyes filled with tears that merged with the waters around her.
"Thank you for everything, my friend," she whispered. Vulko smiled at her, his eyes filled with pride, as she brought her trident down against his temple with a crack. Before his unconscious body had come to rest on the floor, the princess was speeding away down the corridor, towards the hangar of small craft reserved for royalty.
Vulko had not anticipated that Orvax would send out a scout to try to observe the purported enemy beyond the perimeters of Atlantis. Nor did he expect the scout to alert Orvax and take off after the escaping princess. No one could give Vulko any precise information when he came to, other than that a wild chase had ensued, and the princess's ship had been blown to bits. His sole consolation, as Orvax settled into his new role as Regent, was that Atlanna's body had never been recovered.
Vulko had long since been pushed from the inner circle of political advisors by the time Atlanna returned, and so he was given no warning that such a thing might be possible. When she was escorted into the throne room, time seemed to stand still for a moment. Vulko, shunted to the back of the throng and out of Atlanna's sight, had to stop himself from crying out in amazement and joy that the princess — his princess — was somehow alive and well, after three long years of believing her dead. But he knew what the rest of the grim-faced courtiers in the throne room were thinking, knew that Atlanna would already be dead for her insubordination, were it not for her royal blood and the kingdom's need for an heir. And so Vulko stayed silent, his heart breaking for the shackled woman who stood stoically before her sneering fiancé, head held defiantly high.
"I see you've been thoughtful enough to return to us," spat Orvax, rising from his throne. He slowly descended the stairs until he stood only a foot from Atlanna. She stood motionless before him — not even blinking, for she did not need to blink beneath the sea — until Orvax suddenly struck her hard across the face.
Vulko twitched forward, but years of fine-tuning his survival skills in the brutal world of Atlantean politics prevented him from running to the side of his princess as she stumbled sideways with a gasp of pain and humiliation.
"Where have you been?" Orvax asked coolly.
Atlanna straightened once more, her eyes blazing hatred.
"That," she replied haughtily, "is none of your concern. You should content yourself with the fact that I have returned to be your queen, Orvax, out of duty to my nation."
"Indeed," replied Orvax curtly. Vulko could see desire blazing in his eyes — desire not for the woman before him, but for her crown. "Do you realize how you have disgraced yourself, Princess Atlanna? Your flight has made a mockery of the throne of Atlantis, put to shame your bloodline and its valiant pedigree. A royal with more self-respect would have preferred death to such a display."
"I have not returned to seek your approval, Orvax," Atlanna replied shortly. "Arrange the wedding ceremony for when you will, if you still wish to be my consort. And order your henchmen to remove these shackles. I came back to Atlantis of my own accord. I will not flee again."
Orvax scowled, but he gestured to the Customs and Border Protection officers who had escorted Atlanna into the throne room, and they obligingly removed her shackles. She fixed Orvax with a look of pure loathing, then turned to leave.
"I have not yet dismissed you," he called after her.
Atlanna ignored him, and no one tried to stop her as she walked steadily down the long corridor of the throne room, her gaze fixed straight ahead of her.
Vulko did not dare approach her until that evening, when he knew he could make his way to her private chambers without being spotted.
"Your Highness?" he asked softly, knocking on the door, and then opening it.
Atlanna was seated in a chair by her window, staring out bitterly at a freedom that she had so recently lost. She straightened regally when she heard the door open, prepared to order the intruder out, but then she saw who had entered.
"Vulko," she breathed, her eyes widening.
"My Queen," he replied. It was difficult for him to keep his voice under control. "I cannot express how glad I am to see you alive and well."
Atlanna reached out a hand, and Vulko knelt by her side to kiss it.
"When I didn't see you on the dais this morning, I feared the worst," she told him.
"I may have evaded suspicion for your escape, but I am certainly not a favorite in the current court." Vulko smiled wryly. "Orvax has surrounded himself with bloodthirsty sycophants who think only of their own advancement. Knowing how devoted I was to your father — how devoted I was to you — has not endeared me to him."
"Well." Atlanna rose from her seat, and Vulko followed suit. "We'll have to change that. I will hold virtually no power as Queen, but Orvax will still need advisors, and everyone at court knows that you know the administration of Atlantis like no other. Orvax will never let my opinion influence the way he rules. But he might listen to you, as his chief advisor."
Vulko furrowed his brow.
"Achieving that will certainly take some delicate maneuvering, and it will mean that we will have to have minimal contact with one another..."
"Not necessarily. Orvax knows you were my tutor; why not use that to your advantage? Offer to spy on me, to keep tabs on whether I am planning to incite rebellion against his rule. That will give you a chance to continue to speak with me openly, by Orvax's own command."
"It could work." Vulko gave a slight bow. "I ask your forgiveness in advance for the many slanders against Your Highness that I may have to insinuate to win Orvax's trust."
Atlanna granted him a slight appreciative smile.
"And I thank you for trusting me, as you once did," Vulko added softly. "Since I failed you so horribly the last time you entrusted me with your life."
"You did everything you could," Atlanna assured him. "I have never doubted that for an instant, Vulko. And you didn't fail in the slightest. I got away. I escaped to the surface."
Atlanna's gaze became distant.
"And I was so happy there, Vulko. So indescribably happy."
Atlanna's tears merged with the saltwater around her, but Vulko could hear the sob in her voice nonetheless.
Somehow, impossibly, Orvax was just hubristic or pliable or incompetent enough to fall for Vulko's ruse.
"And why should I have any reason to trust you, a cousin of the late King, who once so openly doted upon my wife?" Orvax scoffed, attacking the last word with a snarl.
"She has taken me back into her confidence, Your Highness," Vulko replied evenly. He tried not to notice how the old King's books had been swept from the shelves of this familiar office, to be replaced with models of sleek battleships and prototypes of the latest plasma weapons. "But the princess I once served is gone. Atlanna is now moody and unpredictable, and I no longer trust her judgment. My duty is to Atlantis, Your Highness, not to any particular bloodline, and you are a leader who seems truly ready to rule this great nation as she was meant to be ruled."
Vulko took it as a promising sign that Orvax visibly puffed himself up a bit at this flattery.
"I thought that I might be able to offer you some, shall we say, continuing insight into the Queen's thoughts," he concluded, "presuming I remain in her favor."
"Continuing insight, hmm?" Orvax flicked the tip of a mounted knife blade as he thought. "Let me be frank: I don't like you, Vulko. You're like an eel, wriggling and slimy."
"As a career politician, I have heard as much and far worse, Your Highness," Vulko said drily with a bow.
"But I do worry about the Queen's malcontent," Orvax continued. "If you are as loyal to me as you say you are, then it might serve us both very well for you to maintain your close connection to her, and report back to me any suspicious behavior that you observe. I am willing to give you a chance, Vulko. And I think you know what the consequences will be, should I discover any treachery on your part."
Vulko did know all too well, but he was a seasoned political operator, and he knew how to combine false tidbits of information and pandering in just the right measures to retain Orvax's confidence, without arousing his suspicions.
"Above all else, he desires to know where you spent those three years away from Atlantis," he told Atlanna one afternoon. "Needless to say, I still advise that you tell no one, not even me, where you were and what you left behind."
"I am so weary of all of this," muttered Atlanna, covering her face with her hands. "All of this deception, all of this misery. How can I watch as Orvax destroys my father's kingdom, Vulko? The fact that I can do nothing to stop him makes me wish that I were dead."
"You mustn't speak like that, Your Highness," Vulko insisted. "When your child is born, instead of raising him in such despair, you must instead train him to be the king that you wish his father were."
Atlanna did seem to regain some hope when Orm was born. Vulko was relieved to see her smiling once more as she held her new son, and, when the boy was older, as she began to tell him the old legends of Atlantis. Young Orm looked precisely like a miniature version of his father, but he listened to the tales with the same wide-eyed wonder that Atlanna had exhibited when she was his age.
"I still worry about him," Atlanna admitted to Vulko, as they watched the boy play soldier with a toy trident. "Orvax will allow me to teach him at this age, but I do not know how long that will last."
"Atlantean queens have always been in charge of their children's education," Vulko reassured her. "Your mother, after all, was the one who intervened when your father wanted to send you to the Fleet Academy to become an admiral. If not for her, you would never have been allowed to remain under my tutelage. But, if I may make a suggestion? King Nereus of Xebel contacted me about sending his daughter to be educated alongside Prince Orm. No doubt he hopes that they will ultimately be a suitable match, if raised together. Bringing Princess Mera here to be Prince Orm's playmate would not be objectionable to Orvax, who also hopes to guarantee a lasting peace with Xebel and merge its military might with that of Atlantis. And you would be allowed to exercise your influence over your son for longer, under the guise of facilitating his tutelage with Princess Mera."
"Oh, Vulko," Atlanna laughed. "Always about four steps ahead of everyone else strategically. Yes, tell King Nereus to send his daughter here. I would be happy to teach her, as well."
And so it was that a small, red-headed girl arrived in a ceremonial procession from Xebel that seemed outlandish, given her diminutive stature. Both Atlanna and Vulko were quickly charmed by the little princess, whose personality was as fiery and unabashed as her hair, and who delighted in teasing the ever-somber Orm. Atlanna instructed the pair in history, literature, music, the art of manipulating water, and trident combat. Above all, she emphasized the importance of diplomacy, and of learning about other cultures before lashing out with force.
"I don't like it," Orvax told Vulko, when Mera had lived at the Atlantean court for nearly two years. "All of this talk of understanding the other and trying to seek compromise. It's making my son weak, Vulko. I won't have it be said that the heir of Orvax Marius is a coward who would rather plead with the surface-dwellers than defend his kingdom as he should. I'm beginning to think that my wife should be removed from any position of influence in his life. Permanently."
"I fear that he means to have you killed," Vulko told Atlanna bluntly that evening. "I don't know how, and I don't know when, but it's clear that he's planning something."
Atlanna was facing away from Vulko, gazing out the window of her chambers. She said nothing.
"My Queen," Vulko said, "I will do everything that I can to help you escape, but..."
"But we both know that it will be impossible for me to do so, this time." Atlanna finally turned to face her old mentor. "Orvax has me watched whenever I set foot from the palace. There is no way for me to escape. And I won't let you risk your position needlessly."
Vulko turned away in anguish.
"Do not grieve for me, Vulko," said Atlanna quietly. "Death will be a relief, after this hell I've inhabited for the past eight years. I only ask to depart on my own terms."
"What do you mean, Your Highness?" asked Vulko bitterly.
Atlanna smiled.
"Orvax will want to do away with me stealthily. A small illness that rapidly declines into something much worse. Perhaps a ruse of assassins from another kingdom, so that he will have an excuse to declare war on them. If I am going to die, then it should be public and unforgettable. He will have to execute me for violating the fundamental laws of Atlantis."
"Your Highness, no!" Vulko shook his head. "You have been pardoned for your flight to the surface, and Orvax would never..."
"Vulko," Atlanna interrupted him gently. "I need you to deliver a bit of gossip about me to Orvax, about what I did when I escaped from Atlantis. And it must be you who delivers it, because I need Orvax to continue to trust you, even more than he has. When I am gone, I need you to convince him to put you in charge of educating Orm and Mera, to further the work that I have begun. Teach them the way that you taught me, and all may yet be well. Do you understand?"
"You cannot ask me to betray you like this," Vulko begged. The thought of his beloved princess being executed by trident or by sword or (worst of all) by sacrifice to the Trench was horrific enough; the thought that he would have to be the cause of her death was too much to bear.
"It is not a betrayal if I command you to do it." Atlanna took Vulko's hand. "But, beyond that, I must ask you for one more favor. You must educate Orm and Mera in my absence. But you must also educate another in the ways of our people. You are able to leave the palace easily for diplomatic missions. Whenever you do, please, go to the surface. Find a boy named Arthur Curry, on the rocky shores of the east coast of the North American continent. And train my first-born son to be the hero that Atlantis needs."
Because Atlanna was of royal blood, she was given a public trial, but there was no real reason to do so; everyone in attendance knew what the outcome would be. Atlanna, clad in her signature white, stood defiantly through the entire proceeding. When her sentence was pronounced, and she was asked if she had anything to say, she simply stated that she regretted nothing and was proud of both of her sons. Upon hearing this, Orm tried to leap from his seat on the dais, crying for his mother; but Vulko seized the Prince's arm.
"Why did you stop me?" the boy cried at Vulko as they left the throne room.
"It would have done no good," Vulko tried to explain. "Your father would have been most displeased by any display of sympathy for a traitor, and you would have been punished."
"But she's my mother!" Orm raged. "I hate you! I hate everything right now!"
"Prince Orm..."
"If she had never had my older brother, none of this would have ever happened!" Orm sobbed in frustration. "I hate him most of all, Vulko. I'll kill him for all of this!"
Vulko sighed as his charge stormed away, deciding that he simply did not have the energy to reason with an understandably distraught eight year old.
"I am sorry that you have to witness all of this, Princess Mera," he added.
"I'll miss her," whispered Mera. "Will we get to say goodbye?"
Vulko shook his head, then took the little princess by the hand and led her away from the throne room.
Orm and Mera were denied a chance to say goodbye to Atlanna, but not Vulko. The guards of the Queen's prison cell snapped to attention when the chief advisor appeared, and the door snapped closed behind him once he had entered.
"i have been sent to instruct you on how your execution will proceed this evening," he told her curtly, turning towards the barred window and away from any of the security cameras in the cell.
"I must confess, I had not expected Orvax to go through the formality of an execution by Trench," Atlanna interrupted. "A trident through the heart would have been more efficient and more merciful, don't you think?"
She blinked in surprise as a tiny trail of bubbles, too fine to be detected by anyone else watching, drifted from Vulko's obscured hands and were forced by the currents around them into words that drifted fleetingly before Atlanna's face: Your Highness, I have not come here to ensure a quick and painless death for you. I have come to remind you of how you might survive.
"More merciful, indeed, but examples must be made," Vulko replied carelessly as his actual message dispersed before Atlanna's eyes. "The ritual will follow the terms set out by your father, the late King. I believe you have studied the protocol. Can you confirm this?"
The Trench abhors light. Can you sustain a water trap, in your current state?
"I can," replied Atlanna.
Vulko nodded.
"Good. Let us review in brief, then. You will be taken out on an above-water craft as the sun is setting, when the Trench will be awakening and at its hungriest. Your crimes against the Kingdom of Atlantis will be read aloud for the edification of all watching. Then, on your sovereign's command, you will jump into the water, shackled and without any weapons."
Stall for as long as you can, before you must jump. Invoke your royal privilege and make a speech, if you have to. Wait until you can clearly see dinoflagellates in the waters around you.
"I understand," Atlanna said.
"We have chosen a corner of the Trench where there should be swarms of activity in the waters," Vulko explained. "Everything should happen quickly."
"I hope that Orvax will not make Orm watch?" Atlanna asked bitterly.
"Your Highness, no." Vulko turned to her. "I promise you that I will be watching over your son."
Atlanna's eyes met his, and she nodded.
"I am so sorry, Vulko. For everything."
"As you should be, Your Highness," said Vulko shortly, turning away.
When his next message shimmered momentarily before Atlanna's eyes, she was glad that tears were not visible on the cheeks of those under the ocean.
Forgive my impertinence, Your Highness, but I have thought of you as a daughter these many years. Much as it pains me to have played such a role in all of this, I would do anything in my power to help you escape from your current unhappiness.
"I know," Atlanna whispered.
Vulko strode towards the door without looking at her.
"Until tonight, then, Your Highness. Ready yourself as you must.
He bowed formally at the door, and disappeared. As he did so, Atlanna read his parting message to her in a final stream of bubbles:
May the tides ever carry you to safety, my Queen.
Only hours later, Vulko watched as Atlanna stood at the edge of a royal above-water barge, the sunset blazing behind her.
"Atlanna of Atlantis," announced Orvax's herald, as Orvax himself smirked from a gilded throne. "You are hereby charged with treason against the throne of the Kingdom of Atlantis, and sentenced to death by sacrifice to the Trench. Although your flight from Atlantis and the associated breach of treaty has been pardoned, you have confessed to consorting with a surface-dweller and bearing his bastard, thus sullying the royal bloodline of Atlantis, imperiling the smooth succession of the Crown Prince to the throne, and bringing shame down upon your house and the memory of your departed parents. Now prepare to jump, on the order of your sovereign, Prince Regent Orvax Marius of Atlantis."
"Wait," commanded Atlanna, and the herald, surprised by this breach of protocol, fell silent. "If I must die, then I first will be heard. I repeat what I stated at my trial: I feel no shame for what I have done. It is true that my elder child's father is a surface-dwelling human. It is also true that he is the best man I have ever met, and I thank the gods every day for the brief but wonderful years that we were granted together. I refuse to believe that my first-born son is worth any less than his brother, your Prince, half-human though he may be. After all, he was conceived and born and raised in a home filled with love, which is far more than you ever offered me in Atlantis, Orvax."
The sun had just dipped below the horizon. From the base of the boat whispered the snapping of sharp teeth and the scrabbling of claws, accompanied by the occasional glimmer of light. Atlanna glanced at Vulko, who gave her a barely perceptible nod.
"Lastly, Prince Regent," she finished, putting a touch of mocking weight into the title, "you will not order me to jump. Of the two of us, I am the one with royal blood, and I have had enough of your bullying and abuses. In fact, I am extremely glad to finally be rid of your company for good."
And, before Orvax could say or do anything, Atlanna leaped from the edge of the barge, summoning around her a full shield of bioluminescent droplets that made her seem to glow as she hit the water. Vulko watched the spot where she had sunk beneath the waves for as long as he could before it was lost from sight, as Orvax's barge sped to safer waters. And he mourned that it was the last that he would ever see of the spirited woman he had served for so long. After all, even if Atlanna somehow survived, Vulko knew that nobody ever returned from the Trench.
Vulko had never been so incredibly glad to be wrong.
"The thing is," he said, as Atlanna approached him in the aftermath of the showdown, "if I had to place my money on anyone in history to come back from the Trench alive, it would be you and that ridiculous, wonderful son of yours." He took her hands, smiling. "As I said once before, Your Highness, I cannot express how glad I am to see you alive and well."
"Oh, Vulko," she laughed, and to Vulko's shock, the Queen threw her arms around him.
"I don't think I even need to remind you of what a breach of protocol this is," he said, awkwardly patting Atlanna on the back.
"My closest associates for the past twenty years have been a flock of Pteranodons, Vulko," Atlanna chuckled. "I'm through with protocol. The next thing I plan to do is return to the surface and spend a lengthy, well-earned vacation with the love of my life, which I think is some thirty years overdue. And, while I presume that my ridiculous, wonderful son won't fault me for that, I wouldn't care even if he did."
She stepped back and beamed at her advisor.
"My dear friend," she said. "If I had to place my money on anyone in history to be able to scheme his way through the political maelstrom to a resolution like this, it would be you. And that is absolutely a compliment."
"It has all been worth it, to see you so happy again." Vulko smiled. "I've missed the little girl who once demanded to follow me to every meeting on my schedule. It's good to see her return like this."
Atlanna smiled, her eyes soft with gratitude.
"Although I will say, it was an absolute joy to train Arthur," Vulko added. "Very inquisitive young fellow, with a truly unbridled zest for life. He reminded me quite a bit of your younger self."
"Well, thank you, although I'll be the first to say that Arthur is very much his own unique person." Atlanna's smile faltered. "On the other hand, there's my other son, who at present is acting much more like his father than I had ever hoped. Mera told me that Orvax ended your tutelage of Orm when Nereus called her back to Xebel, a few years after my execution."
"Indeed," said Vulko with a grimace, but before he could say anything further, Atlanna stopped him.
"Before you start apologizing, I'll remind you that you did everything that you could. It was not your fault that Orvax intervened in your careful plans and brainwashed Orm into believing that warfare was the only solution. And thankfully, in spite of everything, you maintained Orm's confidence enough for him to name you his chief advisor after Orvax's death, which has probably saved us all." The Queen paused. "What is to be done with him, Vulko? What is to be done with the oceans? The erstwhile 'Ocean Master' has wreaked so much havoc. Where do we even begin to repair the damage?"
These were the types of questions that kept Vulko up at night. For it was not just the need to repair diplomatic relations with the nations in which Orm had committed atrocities and assassinations and aggressions. There still remained the greater problem of the oceans, and how best to negotiate with the surface-dwellers for their restoration and preservation. Orm's motivations had not been wrong, only his solutions. Much still needed to be done.
But there would be time for that, and, quite frankly, Vulko did not expect the newly anointed King to finish celebrating his victory for another few days, at the least.
"Go," he told Atlanna. "Find your love. Tell him how proud he should be of his son. Forget all about Atlantis for a few days. Plenty of work lies ahead of us, but it can wait a little longer. And when you get back, I'll be right here, ready to start planning how to set things right."
"Thank you, my friend," said Atlanna quietly.
"Crafts reserved for royalty are just down this corridor," Vulko gestured. "Technology has only advanced over the past two decades, Your Highness. You should be able to reach the North American coastline in less than a few hours, at the speeds these ships can go."
"That sounds perfect." Atlanna grinned mischievously at her mentor. "Or, as the new King might put it, 'Oh, hell, yeah!'"
And, with a laugh, Atlanna shot down the corridor in a spray of bubbles.
Vulko shook his head slightly, smiling in bemusement. He was not surprised to find himself recalling the last time he had sent Atlanna speeding away towards the surface, at the outset of the events that had brought them to this moment. But at least this time, as Vulko watched her depart, he knew that she left in safety and would return soon. In the meantime, he would do what he did best, and prepare to serve Atlanna and her son to the utmost of his abilities. And so Vulko, ever the political advisor, turned and wandered back down the corridor, his thoughts already reverting back to matters of administration and diplomacy as he waited for the tides to return his Queen to her realm.