Chapter 6

"You realize this means my death," he said, resuming his seat on the lone throne atop the dais. "Why should I help you sign my own death warrant?"

"He has promised he'd spare you," she said, realizing how pathetic it sounded to believe someone like Triton. "He gave me his word as the Son of a God."

"That word is more useless than yours," he snapped offhandedly, immediately regretting the words, but not letting the emotion register.

Her blue eyes flicked up at him, her red mouth drawing into a line. "Fine," she said, her voice colder than it had been before. "If I don't have your help, Themyscira will be resunk, and you will be haunted by those apparitions without end." She didn't want to threaten him, she had tried to avoid this, but she was proud of herself for drawing the line at telling him if he did not help her, she would return and take what she needed, by force if necessary.

They were at a stale mate. Two pairs of cold blue eyes met, neither willing to back down.

"You don't have to help me, but it will be easier on both of us, and this whole situation can be done with faster, if you do," she said, her voice steady as she spoke. "And as soon as this is all done, we don't need to spend any extra time in each other's company."

He considered her offer for a moment. He hated to admit it, but he was mixed on her opinion that they should never have to be in each other's company again, or perhaps it was her affecting him as she had been known to do.

"What kind of apparitions were they?" she asked. She had been thinking that this was the work of Circe, a sneaky, snarky and sensual based sorceress who wouldn't think twice about sinking beyond the realm of propriety to get what she wanted, and it seemed right now what she wanted was to hurt Diana, badly, and bringing Arthur into it, in any way, shape or form was a sure fire way to get the job done.

He was quiet for a moment, almost hesitating under the stare of Diana. Her lasso compelled obedience and truth, but he was sure that she couldn't, she wouldn't, use it on him. Not at this point. Arthur could remember what it felt like to be ensnared in the lasso's grip; feeling the chord tighten around his throat and threaten to choke the very life out of him.

"They were of yourself and Mera," the reluctant emperor finally admitted. "I do believe someone is trying to fool us."

Diana simply nodded. She was becoming more convinced that Circe was working her specific brand of magic on the situation, but why bother going after Arthur?

"I was worried it might be something like this," the Queen bowed her head.

"So what do you propose we do about this… problem?" Arthur's tone was clear enough indication he wanted this dealt with quick and fast, so he could return to his brooding solitude.

"I do not suppose you would just hand me the trident and let me go on my own," she said, her tone serious even if the request seemed like a joke.

Arthur was conflicted: did he simply continue to stare coldly at the moronic request or bark with a laugh of derision. He chose the prior option, continuing to stare down Diana.

"I didn't think so," she said with a roll of her eyes. "But it would have been the easiest option." Arthur opened his mouth to protest, but Diana cut him off. "In that case, I suggest we outsmart him. We're both adept at subterfuge and war making; this is just the same thing, on a different scale."

Arthur stood, still simply regarding her. There was a fire below the surface, but she had matured, aging emotionally and mentally but remaining the same physical woman he had been so tempted by only a few short years ago. He let his mind unbidden wander; if there hadn't been a war, would she have born him children? He had never thought about it, but how would he have dealt with the delicate issue of succession had Mera and Diana both carried sons into the world? A daughter of Diana would easily belong to the Amazon world, but a son would have no space, but there was always a chance he could be usurped by a child of Mera, male or female.

Shaking his head, the King dispersed the nagging thoughts of what could have been; they're nothing but a waste of time and a useless distraction. Mera is dead; she will provide him with no heirs. Diana is… regretfully alive, but their relationship torn asunder; she too will provide no heirs to the throne of Atlantis. The Royal Line will die with him, in conflict if he had his way.

"Are you alright?" Diana had closed the distance, effort and almost soundlessly making her way to Arthur's side without his notice. For a minute, the weakest part of him saw the shimmer of a woman who had cared deeply for him, and every other life. And as soon as it was registered, it disappeared, remembering the cruel indifference she had returned his beloved Mera's body to him, without her head, and the crass action of wearing her helmet.

"I am fine," he said coldly, though he was impressed when the brutal tone and shortness of his words, harsh even to his ears, failed to have any visible effect on Diana. "You said you believe you know who we are up against?" He turned away from her, attention drawn out by a movement Diana hadn't noticed. There was something lurking in the darkness; Arthur could sense it.

"Yes, well, it seems having a powerful rival is not unique to me," Diana started, still unaware of Arthur's alert. "When my Mother wa…"

"Quiet," he said, raising his left hand, his right, as always, gripping his trident, readied for action. His eyes were focused on what Diana had passed off as just corpses and blood clouds settling in the murky water.

She followed his line of sight, straining to make out any discernible shapes in the dimness. It was a struggle, but she thought she saw something moving, slowly waving. It could be what Arthur was alerted to, or it could be seaweed.

"Arthur, what is – !" Diana was cut off midsentence as her feet were drawn out from under her. On land, she would have face planted right into the steps at Arthur's feet as she was dragged backwards. She felt a familiar burn set in and she remembered how Arthur and her had first met.

"Diana!" he shouted, turning swiftly, his trident thrusting forward with a bolt coming from it, muscle memory and habit rather than any real desire to save Diana.

The creature was illuminated for a moment; a cetus! How could Arthur have not noticed such a beast closing in? No doubt sent to watch over Diana to ensure she wasn't going to double cross on her promise to Triton. Arthur gritted his teeth; if he hadn't been so focussed on her, on her scent invading his nostrils, in denying her presence intoxicating his senses, he would have noticed the beast much earlier.

With the beast distracted by Arthur's attack, Diana managed to struggle free, her gloves burning as she gripped the acidic tentacles of the monster. No need for leg armour, you said, she thought to herself as she pulled her gloves off, letting them float and disintegrate as she looked at the red welts on her legs already starting to grow inflamed. He had taken her for treatment once, but she wasn't sure if he had been the one to treat her, or if he would even go through the effort if he knew how.

The creature's tentacles surged forward, this time going after Arthur for the attack he had given it. She watched him parry, thrust and counter the barely sentient beast's attacks with grace and fury; the last time she had seen such a magnificent warrior in action, she was at the receiving end of his fury. She was enchanted with the ease of his movements; his composure and skill had grown since their last combat, no doubt a credit to the near endless challenges for the title of King.

Diana didn't know where the body was, but she knew that finding it would be the best bet. A crusted sword, still gripped by a near skeletal hand, was an easy offering of a weapon, and Diana was not too proud to accept. Working while Arthur distracted the creature, letting him dance between the dangerous appendages, Diana swam into the red black water away from the central opening of the chamber, trusting that Arthur would be okay.

She was tempted to turn back when she heard a painful scream; he must have let an attack slide past his defense. She couldn't turn back, though. She had to be getting close, the water was warmer and the scent of blood thicker.

The beast's body was massive, Diana wondered about how good an idea this really was but pushed the thoughts aside. The time for thinking had passed, action was required at this point. She readied the blade, dull and cumbersome as it was, double handing the hilt in preparation.

She tried to remember back to when she was being taught about the life down under the surface, both as a child learning of the Olympians and their creatures, and when Arthur, who was much more patient than her aunt had ever been, had taken the time to show her the Atlantian menagerie. While the cetus' eye wouldn't give off light of its own, it was very similar to any land predator in that their eyes were highly reflective, with pupils that could open almost the entire diameter of the eye to allow as much ambient light in as possible. While attacking, the creature closed its eye to protect it from whatever it was fighting, but, Diana was hoping that, based on what she had witnessed with the smaller sea Cyclops and with land predators, a painful attack would cause the eye to open, giving her the opening she needed to defeat it.

For his part, Arthur watched Diana swim into the darkness, following the tentacles back. He wondered if he should attempt to stop her; the mission was suicide in the best of conditions. Ultimately, he decided he was through trying to tell the Amazon what she should and should not do, it hadn't served him well in the past, and she had proven a decided ability to tune out his advice, as good as it may be. Instead, he focussed his anger, the anger that had been brought on by Diana, her presence, and by being drawn back into her world, towards the creature.

The trident was an excellent stabbing weapon, but it wasn't adept at slashing or amputating. Luckily enough for Arthur, most of the fallen challengers had been kind enough to die with their weapons in their hands, meaning that unused bladed weapons of all varieties and lengths were littered around him.

He selected a blade that was freshly fallen, there was no debris settled on it yet, the challenger's corpse still mostly intact, picked over by only the bravest sea life to enter Arthur's space when his mood was so dark. The blade was sharp, the edge still fresh; two feet of metal slicing edge, more than enough to take on the cetus' tentacles. The triton switched to be held in his left, the sword in his right, the King of Atlantis exhibited the skills that had determined he would remain regardless of the determination of the various factions which saw to over throw him.

A strong swipe and the blade cut down, slashing partially through the first meaty appendage, getting stuck in the joints of the bone. As if carving a dead animal, Arthur thrust the trident into the beast's flesh to hold it in place while he freed the blade. Another slash, and another, two tentacle heads fell to the sea bed.

His telepathy linked him to the beast, even as it laid shrivelling, writhing in agony. A satisfied smirk crossed his rough mouth, for a second forgetting that he had a partner in this particular battle; for so very long Arthur had been fighting alone he had forgotten entirely about Diana. His only memory of her presence was the faint hint of her blood in the water...

Her blood? The realization shook him, and again, it was muscle memory that sprung him forward. He would justify to himself that the actions were being taken to make sure that a second war was not started between the Amazons and the Atlantians, not that there was any empire left to take on the challenges. If she was going to die, she was not going to do it here, where he could be blamed.