Disclaimer: I don't own Aquaman or BBC Merlin, their characters, storylines or related films, comics and novelizations set in the corresponding universes. The franchises are property of DC Comics and BBC One/Shine Limited, and they were created by Mort Weisinger, Paul Norris and Julian Jones, et al., respectively. I am only borrowing them for the purpose of nonprofit expression of personal creative ideas in the same settings.

Chapter 6: Conflict, Thy Name Is…

Someone broods, someone panics, and a forbidding King makes it hard for Arthur to keep a level head.

^0^0^0^

Kingdom of Atlantis - Sunken Shipwreck

Leon did his best to maintain a blank expression while facing his superior. Captain Valiant was harsh in his punishments for presumed disrespect. He was worse if there was suspicion of betrayal to his esteemed King.

The muscled, huge man sneered at the slumped form of their prisoner - by the Gods, that was Arthur - and signaled Leon to bring the restraints.

Burying his apprehension, Leon fastened the energy cuffs around Arthur's wrists pulling them behind his back, as gently as he could without sacrificing a secure grip, and placed bigger ones on his ankles.

The captain, satisfied with the fettered look of the captive, walked off to the lower levels to study their fallen comrades.

Leon took hold of Arthur, a dead weight in his unconsciousness, and threw him over his shoulder. Thankfully, the broadness of his upper chest armor made for a better place to hold the body than Leon's natural shoulder width. He headed down, just in time to see Valiant kick one of the fainted guards in frustration. He bit his tongue to stop himself from commenting.

"Useless, pieces of garbage. We are supposed to be the Elite, the King's highly trusted soldiers!" The brute of a man snarled, whipping around and raising his sword to take a swing at Arthur.

Leon reflexively took a step back and held his head high. "Captain, the prisoner is ready for transportation. The King's orders are clear. We must take him to the amphitheater to await judgment."

Valiant's scowl darkened before he rolled his shoulders and stalked away. Before Leon could sigh in relief, the other man turned around sharply and pointed threateningly back.

"You do not have to tell me what my King's orders are. Know your place." Came the hissed remark, before the man disappeared out of the air pocket. Those hostile eyes had held Leon's intensely, through the protective barrier of Valiant's armored helmet.

Leon closed his eyes and breathed deeply, before choosing to ignore that response. Valiant had always been jealous of him, and that was never going to change.

Leon was a natural born leader, and a patient teacher. He trained the troops in skill and strength, and had climbed the fleet levels quickly, reaching an enviable position in the King's personal knights. All of that was on top of being a high born, the only son to a noble family in the upper echelon of atlantean politics.

Valiant believed that he had gotten everything handed to him, and he raged even more at the limitations on his body that Leon's high birth dispensed of. Everyone in the barracks whispered that the only reason Valiant was captain of the Elite instead of Leon was due to his overzealous loyalty to King Mordred.

His skills were considered not on par with the younger knight.

Leon did not care. The King's paranoia was not an attractive trait and he did not mind serving second place to such a person.

Leon had accomplished everything by his own merit. His efforts came from a desire to place himself as high as possible, in the event that his wayward prince decided to take his rightful place among the atlantean royalty.

Arthur was everything Leon knew a King ought to be. Regardless of their youth, back then the prince had demonstrated an earnest belief in true justice, a love for all creatures of the sea, and an enduring respect for the ocean and its folk. At least, that had been before the news of his mother's passing had reached him.

Leon had been devastated at the purposeful separation, but no less loyal. Fealty, once given, would never be withdrawn by an atlantean like him. He had bestowed his to Arthur, completely.

So he waited and he grew and he trained. Were his prince to ever call on him, he would be ready.

And yet, what had the stupid man gotten himself into this time? This seemed definitely up Arthur's alley, but it was not any less worrisome. How was he supposed to act and when?

All these questions echoed in his mind, unanswered, while he went through the motions of calling for a retrieval team for the fallen guards, swimming to his parked vehicle and placing his esteemed cargo in the back as comfortable as he could.

Feeling the approaching presence from behind, Leon straightened and closed the door of his ship with finality. He turned around to see Valiant's glaring countenance.

"Come with me" he growled, and Leon followed without question, rather glad to keep that man away from his prince.

They came to an outcrop where an abandoned sleek ship rested. The model was a recent one, and the systems were clearly operational.

"Scan it," Valiant ordered, and Leon took out the device capable of it, activating it and studying the results.

"It's a xebellian ship with an identification number registered under diplomatic immunity," Leon read off dutifully. He eyed the other man, noting that Valiant did not seem surprised.

"I got you now, little deceiver," He mumbled under his breath. Leon held his silence.

"Log it in. Have the nearest patrol retrieve this ship. I want all its records sent to my personal terminal. No word to anyone about where and when it was found. Seal off the report of this incident as well."

Valiant stalked away again, having finished spouting his orders. He climbed into his own watercraft and sped away, with nary a blink in Arthur's direction.

Leon felt incredulously lucky for a moment, before an incoming message chirped in his communicator's screen. It read 'King Mordred expects prisoner facing charges in amphitheater by the end of the hour. A delay will be reason for severe punishment'. Valiant could be perceptive, it seemed.

Leon clicked his tongue and prepared to drive in the direction of the castle. He would have to fulfill the rest of his orders upon arrival.

Arthur would have to make due until he could think of something. He had a feeling Gaius would help.

~0~*~0~

Kingdom of Atlantis - Castle's Royal Guests Wing

Merlin paced and fretted. He was building himself up to an anxiety attack when a knock at his doors reverberated and called for his attention.

He smoothed a hand down his armor (unnecessary) and took a deep breath (very necessary) before he called for the guest to enter, having sat himself behind his desk, every inch the prince interrupted during his work. It was not as if the paperwork strewn everywhere was fake.

Gaius walked in and Merlin slumped in both relief and apprehension.

"He has been captured," Gaius started, talking quickly to Merlin's growing confusion. "He was taken by the knights to the amphitheater, where he will be judged by-"

Before any more words were uttered, the doors to his chambers opened again, without a request for entry this time. King Mordred, in all his glory, walked inside to stand at the center of the room. Gaius took a step back and bowed deeply. Merlin stood up from his place, smiled and bowed slightly less than the advisor.

"Merlin, I heard you were back. Why didn't you come find me?" The low tenor of his voice was a far cry from the appealing baritone of his brother, Merlin pondered, before shaking himself.

"It wasn't that long a trip, Mordred. The outpost was not that far. I'm afraid I remembered that, on top of the report of my findings on said outpost, I had too much paperwork still to sort through. Please, forgive me, my friend," Merlin's pleasant attitude revealed nothing.

"We shall dine together this evening then. I understand more than most how a break from paperwork can increase our life expectancy," Mordred said, grinning mischievously. Merlin did not have to fake his resulting laugh, but a clenched fist hidden behind the desk gave relief to his conflicting emotions.

Mordred was a master at deceit, but Merlin knew that his friend had not always been so conniving and insincere. Every once in a while, he could see glimpses of the young man Mordred used to be, and each time he mourned Ygraine's passing all the more.

"Gaius! My trusted advisor, why ever are you here in my consort's rooms?" Mordred's genuinely light questioning tone caused an unpleasant shiver to run down Merlin's spine. He hated being referenced as such, and it seemed more upsetting now when an image of an exasperated Arthur flashed in his mind.

What was the prat doing now and why had Merlin been stupid enough to get him captured?

"My King, had I been aware you were coming here I would not have bothered," replied Gaius, warmly, waving away Mordred's gesture to a nearby seat. Merlin knew that the advisor would not want to stay longer than needed in the presence of the King. "I merely came to inform Prince Merlin of his father's arrival, as bid by King Balinor, following the successful alliance to your campaign."

"That's right! Congratulations, Mordred. However much I am against the idea of conflict in general, I know how much you looked forward to this. As I have said in the past, Xebel stands with you."

Mordred tilted his head, an affected look on his face. "Gaius didn't mention the attack?"

"I'm afraid I had not gotten to that, sire," Gaius sighed.

"Attack?" Merlin asked, approaching Mordred and making a show of checking him for injuries. The King held his wrist, stopping his fusing. Merlin let him, his worry not all faked.

"I'm alright. Nothing to worry about," Mordred said, softly, squeezing lightly the wrist in his hold. However, from one moment to the next, his mien darkened coldly. "It was a surface ship, attacking our meeting place. They destroyed the Council of the Kings, and injured many. Your father-"

"What! My father what?! Is he alright?!" Merlin looked at Gaius, fear in his eyes, before turning back to Mordred. He placed a hand on the collar of the King's armor in his panic.

His friend tapped his hand to calm him down, visibly uncomfortable with Merlin's actions.

Merlin vaguely resented Gaius for having kept some details to himself.

"He's alright, slightly injured but rearing to go. Balinor shot down the remaining missiles while I destroyed the vessel. Worry not, your father will be coming today, hale and hearty."

Merlin ignored the patronizing words, in lieu of sighing in relief. His heart could not take any more excitement.

"Your Majesty," called someone from the still open doors. The occupants of the room looked towards the entrance where Captain Valiant was poised in a deep bow. "Everything is ready."

"Excellent!" exclaimed Mordred, his hand tightening over Merlin's wrist. "We should be going then."

"Going where?" Merlin asked, while Mordred nodded to Gaius, signaling him to precede them. Valiant stepped aside, and fell behind his King once the engaged pair walked past.

"I'm afraid a rather upsetting individual has decided to grace us with his presence, at last. He caused quite a commotion. I have ordered him to be taken to my auditorium, to be judged." Mordred's tone was lighthearted, but his features radiated deep agitation. He had been affected by Arthur's appearance. "I have to say, however, I look forward to meeting my half-brother."

Merlin made himself gasp. "Your brother is here? That brute?"

He had not made it a mystery that he had disliked Ygraine's first born from the start. Looking back, Merlin was ashamed at how he had ranted about Arthur.

But he could not really be blamed, the man had been a menace! With that mocking, tantalizing smirk and those enchanting bright eyes... Also, Arthur talked before thinking, exuded pompousness and how could he act like such a snob when he had supposedly rejected his royal station?

That aside, Arthur had proved quite different from the first impression. Merlin had to be honest about his curious desire to get to know him more.

Mordred huffed, side-eyeing him amused. "Yes. I wish for you to be by my side for the encounter. I do not know how calm I can keep myself in his presence." That, Merlin could believe was the truth. "You as well, Gaius."

"As you command, sire."

They walked in silence the remaining distance. Mordred had let go of Merlin's wrist along the way, instead placing his hand at the crook of his elbow. Their entrance was without fanfare, Mordred's attention quickly caught by the slumped and chained figure at the bottom of the room. He headed to the right side of the throne structure first, letting Merlin take a seat, before regally taking his place.

Merlin cleared his face of all expression and watched everyone around.

Valiant took a stand near his King in parade rest. Gaius sat down at the left side of the throne with folded hands. Mordred stared hungrily at his unconscious prisoner.

Merlin took a deep breath and prepared to watch the proceedings. Regretfully, he eyed the naked torso of the first prince, absentmindedly counting the bruises, scratches and burns littering the tanned, muscled chest. Were it up to him… but he digressed.

The knight Leon had probably taken care of the prisoner as much as he was able, unbiased as he was, but Valiant would have made that difficult. Now, it was his turn. Merlin would do what he could to mitigate any consequences to Arthur, however unlikely he was to succeed.

~~~0~~~

Kingdom of Atlantis - Amphitheater

A burning, agonizing shock coursing through his veins woke Arthur up. The crackling from an energy weapon was coming from behind him, and his sore, aching back was probably the origin of the pulsing pain running all over his body.

He panted, blinking his eyes and trying to clear his muddled mind.

Delirious, he thought of the much more pleasant shock that had come from the touch of Merlin's hand the second time they met, in his hometown. How he wished he could curl up back to sleep and dream of that creamy, pale skin and those pouty lips.

The drag from chains resounded, and Arthur felt his arms stretching uncomfortably. An unpleasant weight on his neck made it difficult to swallow, and his ankles were also held back by something. Looking around, Arthur spied hundreds of soldiers, white armored like that patrol that had found them first, standing in an ordered parade rest and floating at his sides.

Closing his fists, Arthur tested his restraints, finally noticing the chains and the hinges that bound him to the floor. Said chains were not fastened to the ground, rather there were guards holding the other ends and swimming back to keep him in place.

Foolish. If there was something Arthur was confident in, it was his strength.

They had even placed the quindent right in front of him, out of his reach due to the restraints. Taunting.

Arthur took a long breath, tasting the unique waters of Atlantis which were quickly growing familiar, and prepared to force his wannabe manacles to strain against his strength when a loud echo called his attention to the front.

"Welcome to Atlantis…" a figure garbed in an eye-catching gold armor stood up from a gigantic throne, floating above with a silly long cape fluttering in their wake.

Ridiculous, was Arthur's first thought.

"...brother!"

Hell no, was Arthur's second thought.

The man, apparently his little brother, held a facade of regality and calm. To Arthur, though, the fury and hate was right below the surface on that face that shared his mother's nose and the slant of her cheeks.

His gaze turned to the man's companions and he held a sigh of relief at seeing both Merlin and Gaius unharmed. It was slightly disconcerting finding them both up there and remembering that, for all their cloak and dagger schemes, they were either royalty or of high status which allowed them to sit besides the King. They stood to lose much, and so Arthur held his tongue and prepared to disregard all of his brother's words.

"How unbelievable that, after so… many… years, you stand before us at last."

Mordred's words took on a lilting quality that made it easy to push to the background. As discreetly as possible, Arthur observed every inch of Merlin's visible skin to reassure himself.

The sharp cheekbones were as gorgeous as ever, if slightly paler than during their trip and subsequent adventure. The delicate crown at his temples was back, after having been put away since the lighthouse. His hands were demurely folded on his lap and his sitting posture was painfully straight, but to Arthur the view was lovely just because it was Merlin.

There was something about him that drew Arthur's attention, like a moth to a flame. He could not quite put his finger on it.

"I had only ever heard stories of you. The grandest of them all being your participation in the Motherbox battle."

Arthur drew his eyes away from his captivating little fish, and studied Gaius' form. Aside from the general sense of exhaustion from his teacher, Gaius seemed healthy. Honestly, he would probably outlive them all.

"Stories, however, do not ever live up to reality. No matter how accomplished you appear, your presence only brings back my enduring shame over our mother."

Arthur's breath hitched, and his widened eyes clashed with the icy blue of the man known as his brother. Mordred smirked at finally having his full attention.

"Her, the once venerated Queen, who defiled herself by laying with a human and producing a half-breed." The King clicked his tongue and his gaze roved over the rest of the attendees, his soldiers. "That shameful stain on my lineage could only ever be fixed by my running the King's trident through your heart. How many times I dreamed of that moment."

Mordred's contemplative words fueled a deep anger and self-shame at the core of Arthur. His fierce mother should not be dishonored so, much less by a son.

Unthinking, his powerful legs kicked off the ground and sent Arthur flying towards the King. His fists strained to punch that damned smirk off that duplicitous face, so much like his mother's. But his approach was abruptly stopped by the efforts of several guards holding the other end of his chains. Under other circumstances, Arthur would be amused at the increase in their numbers. Here and now, there was nothing to laugh about.

Arthur snarled at Mordred's face, inches from him.

The King blinked, unflinching.

"Yet, now that you are before me, I confess to finding myself conflicted."

"Why don't you take these chains off, little brother, and I can show you conflicted. We'll see who gets run through, then."

Mordred's low chuckles grated on his nerves. The red haze of Arthur's fury kept him from seeing the exchanged looks between Merlin and Gaius, who remained unmoving behind the King. The hiss of an energy sword could be heard from behind the throne, a bodyguard no doubt.

So much for disregarding his brother's words. It seemed that it was time to go with his gut.

~ End Chapter 6 ~

Next up, Chapter 7: Provoking Contention

A challenge for the throne is issued and accepted, frustrating all but the unappreciative participants.