Upon Waiting

It was far from silent in the large cavern.

Grunting, insults, and curses could be heard from the struggling guards who fought valiantly to keep hold of the creature who mirrored their words for his own. The eels hissed and snarled in their own way at their captors, though it was far less of a challenge to keep the two in check.

Orders were being passed from the monarchs to another fleet of warriors waiting outside of the cavern. They were told to separate into three groups; one to send word to the humans of their current standing, the other to explain their progress to the awaiting Atlantians, and the last to remain close-by in case of any emergency. Once this was done, the princesses spoke amongst themselves in an attempt to calm their frantic thoughts of the prince while the king eyed his brother heatedly.

Though he continued to fight those holding him back, Uriah silenced his insults in favor of smirking coldly at the merman. Their stand-off couldn't last forever.

"Why have you done this, brother?" Triton asked deeply, trying with every ounce of control within him to keep his temper in check.

The creature's expression did not waiver. "Have you no idea?"

Taunting the king would do him no good now though as the merman grit his teeth. "I can only assume this was a ploy to take you revenge on me from all those years ago," he grinded out.

"You are partially correct, brother," he hissed, "Once I heard of your son's 'treachery', it took little time to plan out my revenge. I originally intended to do away with him, however, the boy resembles your dear wife; so much so that I could do nothing to harm him as I would have never wished harm upon the only good thing to come of your existence. Acting on instinct, I changed my course in hopes of, not only gaining your anger and his loyalty, but also to take him out of your abusive care."

Triton sputtered angrily. "How dare you speak of my wife!?" He shouted, "And how dare you label me as 'abusive' when you have chains wrapped around my son!?"

Uriah simply raised an eyebrow. "I hate you, Triton, I truly do, but I will not lie. There was not a soul who did not love Athena and- though she loved you dearly –she held the heart of everyone she met; myself included. I will not insult her memory by claiming I did not care for her as I would a sister. She did not deserve her fate." By the end of his confession, his struggles ended and his voice deepened into what could have been sadness, but it was instantly overcome by his continuation. "In regards to your parenting, how many times have you struck that boy?"

The king remained silent.

"Therein lies you answer."

"I know I have done wrong by him," Triton finally admitted, voice low. "That, however, gives you no right to him! Nor does it take away the fact that I am his father and you have no claim over him!"

"So you admit to your sins against him. How sure are you that your child does not loathe you? Here, he is treated as he expects, but you are completely unraveling all of the work I have put into him over these years. From the moment he stepped into this place, he has been better off; no weighing emotions, fading memory to keep his head clear of distractions, a growing set of skills needed to survive once everything he knows is taken from him. All this I have taught him, yet after only two days in your care, he has reverted back into what he was upon arrival."

The king blinked, anger gone. "'Reverted'?"

Uriah's eyes narrowed warningly. "He is nowhere near the boy he once was, Triton." The frown that had taken his face was quickly replaced by a familiar smirk. "I have made sure of this. He will never be the same. You will always be reminded of your failure with every flinch of contact, every averted eye, every hidden emotion, and refused meal. This I promise you."

Rage clouded the king's features, but there was no acting on it. Before he could so much as open his mouth, a shadow filled the already-dark entry way that Sebastian had disappeared into. One shadow morphed into two. Not even the hatred toward his brother could quench the heavy beating of his heart at the sight of his son, so pale and thin, being led by his top guard.

It was almost over. They almost had him home. Everything was almost righted.