Aquaman (2018): Pilot Fish
by Mirwalker
2. Trial
"Lord Orm," Vulko summarized to the multitudes gathered in person and, via deepcast, across the reunited kingdoms. "You have heard the numerous and serious charges against you, and taken responsibility for each of them…"
That had seemed to surprise them all, the accused thought, as his mind drifted away from the prattle of the victorious vizier. Dramatically marched up the length of his own throne room, Orm had realized almost instantly that he'd only seen it from this vantage point once before in his entire life: processing in for his coronation after his father's death. In every other memory of the massive, bone-framed space, he was either on or beside the royal dais, facing the subjects, visitor, or prisoner. In more recent years, he'd been the one making the decisions and pronouncements he was now awaiting. On so many levels, this was a new experience. But Vulko's love of his own voice was painfully familiar.
The Ocean Master sat sternly, if uncomfortably, in the center seat. Both his mother on his left, and the soon-to-be Queen of Xebel on his right shared his sadness at this moment, but neither seemed to struggle enough to intervene in the swift and severe trial process. The one-armed Brine King and new Fisher Queen completed the royal panel with clear anticipation for the judgment to come.
Vulko had explained to Arthur how Atlantean justice meant that, on accepting the charges, guilt was final, and for this level and quantity of offenses, the sentence was singular. No status or circumstance considered; no deliberation; no mercy; no delay. The day's outcome had been fatally fixed since Orm swiftly interrupted the reading of charges with a surprising, sincere and strong, "Enough! I did it all." And having denied them their theatre, only one, formality remained.
"Orm Marius," Vulko continued to the surprise of none, "you float convicted. You drift condemned. You sink alone."
"He does not!" a voice nearby swiftly shattered the solemn silence.
The waves of surprise through the cavernous space were palpable. Even Orm looked taken aback at this second twist on an otherwise scripted day.
"Majesties…," the voice called again from among nobles just behind the nearest lines of soldiers. Eyes and cameras swept the area in the urgent attempt to locate the single grain on the beach.
Resolving the search, a figure floated up from the crowd, instantly recognizable in the dress uniform of a Man of War, as the older couple near him cried out and attempted to pull him back into obscurity. But he persisted, "The same laws that hold Prince Orm responsible, also oblige my submission."
While not entirely certain of what was happening, that prince's face shone with pride.
Moving slowly but confidently, the interrupter was not intercepted by any of his duty-dressed comrades, as his approach was clearly not toward the sitting king, but to a spot beside the standing prisoner. He continued, "I took an oath to protect this kingdom from all dangers, and gave my word that I would keep Lord Orm safe from harm, whatever the cost. Clearly I have not prevented our coming to this, but I still have a duty to him…"
"Shant, come back here at once!" and "Majesty, please ignore him!" the provincial father and mother contributed, aghast.
Vulko intervened to restore order to the proceedings, on behalf of the king and kingdom. "Subtenant Benthys, the verdict is set—"
"I do not challenge the process or outcome, my Lord, majesties…" The valet came to a halt beside the event's original focus.
The vizier glanced over his shoulder, increasingly concerned at where the process was going. "You have heard the charges, seen yourself the deaths resulting from his orders…"
"I will confess that I too am… surprised by the …extent of Lord Orm's actions..."
Orm knew the young man and his noble up-bringing well enough to recognize his pauses as polite efforts not to say something more judgmental.
"…But I have no doubt they all were born from a concern for his people, for the seas. It might be hard to see in retrospect, but," Shant looked over at the prince with a clear commitment of his own, "I know it was all from a deep love…"
Smugly glad for this additional disruption, Orm looked back with an honest appreciation for it and the underlying loyalty. Whether or not he approved of the means, Shant understood what he had been trying to do. Shant appreciated the difficult decisions and painful sacrifices Orm had required from so many, and had himself made. Orm could see that pain in his valet's face, alongside an unwavering affection for the leader strong enough to bear that cost. And then Orm noticed the deep breath that servant took in preparation for...
"I will serve as anchor," he stated confidently, placing his hand on Orm's shoulder.
Again the large space physically rippled.
Atlanna gaped.
Mera's expression pinched.
Arthur looked confused.
Vulko spoke, "You would choose to share his punishment? That right has not been invoked in ages…"
"With respect, nor has that of Ocean Master." Shant flushed at the potential audacity of comparing himself to the regent.
Orm nearly laughed aloud. Twice now, the day's steady flow had grown turbulent; neither his swift guilty plea nor his attendant's intervention had been expected by his half-brother or co-conspirators. Orm's fate was sealed; and they couldn't refuse the younger man's claim. So among Arthur's first acts would be to execute a second and innocent life. The entire arrogant, treasonous panel of thrones had been undermined—publicly and repeatedly. And Orm could not have been more pleased had he orchestrated it all himself.
Vulko sighed noticeably, the conclusion more complicated, if unchanged. Receiving only a slight shrug of shoulders from the king, he nodded to the Men-of-War captain, whose subordinates produced a second set of shackles, and locked together the ankles of the two men.
Orm wanted to call out in invitation to others who would stand with their king, for their kingdom, against the injustices Arthur embodied. More than just another interruption to their pageant, he desperately wanted the people of Atlantis and beyond to recognize and appreciate, as Shant did, his purpose and him.
"Orm Marius," Vulko interrupted his dream, perhaps for the last time, "For your crimes, Arthur, King of Atlantis and Ocean Master, condemns you—and your anchor—to exile. On the surface."
Most of the dais turned to look at the king, two realizing this had been his intention from the start, that the antics of Orm and his man had made no actual difference in the day's outcome.
Shant gripped Orm's shoulder, turning to the prince in shared surprise at the superficially merciful sentence.
Orm went pale, tensed, and then rushed the dais, screaming and flailing murderously.
Chains rattled.
Soldiers rushed in.
Crowds gasped.
And for the first time today, Arthur's eyes were smiling.