Eyes snapped open only to be immediately blinded by the grey light limply floating into the room. The sky was overcast, but Lockie's eyes had been shut for a while. He needed to get used to it again. Furrowing his brow, he squinted, staring up at his own ceiling. The first sound to hit his ears was a gasp.
"He's awake!" a voice excitedly breathed in a hushed tone. "Go get Lady Freya!"
"Wha-?" His throat was dry and his head was pounding. With a grunt, he raised his hand to touch his forehead, only to raise his eyebrows when he felt bandages there.
He tried to sit up quickly, but that didn't work. It wasn't just his head—his whole body ached like he had been hit by a truck. Slowly, he sat up, hearing pockets of air that had settled in his spine pop while stretching his sore muscles the best he could. That Englishman really did a number on him.
The Englishman? The HELLSING agent. The duel!
Rushed footsteps outside his room came to a halt in the doorway. Turning his head, he saw his sister standing there. She wore a face that didn't suit her—one that was twisted with worry with eyes wet with tears.
"Lockie!" she cried out, charging at the man and practically tackling him. Her arms wrapped around his shoulders and she nearly knocked him down before he caught her.
"Don't cry, Freya…" was his immediate response.
"You shut your mouth you idiot!" Freya barked. "You were out for a whole day! What the fuck else am I suppose to do?!"
The man's face softened. His eyes were downcast. Then, they finally closed again, tightly squeezing shut while he held her in his arms. They were good for that much, at least. "I'm sorry…" he rasped. "I'm so, so, sorry… I ruined everything…"
He took her silence as her agreeing with him. After all, there was no denying it, was there? He lost the duel. He, as their king, had placed his people on the line and he lost. It was his responsibility to bear the responsibility of protecting them on his shoulders, not theirs; Yet he had placed them all in the line of fire in his gamble with the Englishman—a veritable wager with the devil himself—and he lost.
"I should never have challenged him." Lockie declared. The image of the baronet's deceptively delicate visage entered his thoughts. There was no way for him to have known what he was up against. And yet- "I should have never… Ever… Made that wager… I'm sorry… Freya, I… I failed as king… I don't know what's going to happen, now…"
"Neither do I…" Freya stated. "We can't fight them, can we?"
"If he's that strong, no. Who knows how many like him HELLSING has?" He paused. "Do you think the stuff in those books he gave you are true?"
"I don't know…" the woman confessed. "I… I'd like to think so, but…" She hesitated, thinking back to seeing that brute pummel her brother. She shuddered at the memory. Bright red blood splattered across the menace's pale face and climbed up his fists.
"I don't know." she concluded, pulling away from Lockie. She sat on the edge of the bed, searching his face for reassurance, but he was doing the same to her.
"I see… Has he been crowned yet?"
"No, not yet. He insisted on you being awake, first."
"Bastard… That… Bastard! Devil! He—he wants me to see him take it from me! Damn him! Damn the bastard straight to hell!"
Clenching his fists and gritting his teeth, Lockie's whole body was on edge but there was nothing he could do. Jim had already proven that for a fact. If Lockie challenged him again, the selkie might not wake up a second time and he couldn't have that. He was still needed; now more than ever.
"They're going to go get him and bring him here." Freya informed her sibling. "They've already set aside what you're going to wear."
"Damn…"
"What are you going to do?"
"What the bloody hell can I do? I don't—I don't know if there's anything I can do…"
Lockie was scared. He hadn't been this scared in a long time. He was big—bigger and even stronger than most people—yet in the moment, he felt like a scared little kid. He hadn't felt this scared since the day he became king in the first place—since the day he was informed that his father had drowned. The previous king had been entangled in a fishing net. Despite being a lord of the sea and the biggest and strongest selkie on this or any other island, even he was able to be entrapped and killed by simple rope floating loosely in the water.
Maybe if Lockie was in a simple net, it would have been better. The only one to drown would be himself. This, though? This brought everyone down with him. Freya could have replaced him if it were just him and maybe even led them to a better conclusion but now? Now, everyone was in danger of being squashed under that vile blonde's thumb.
"I'll leave you to it." Freya finally said. "I'll… I'll be outside when you're ready."
"Alright…" she heard him mumble as she stood up, but she didn't turn to look at him.
Shutting the door behind her, she went outside to face the mournful crowd gathered on the beach. Long, sorrowful faces stood around and then looked to her as she approached, searching for some sort of hope. Freya held her head high in spite of it all. She sent a clear message in doing so. HELLSING may have won, but they would not take their dignity.
Freya stood beside the same official who saw over the match, standing on the side of him with the elder carrying the circlet on the pillow it laid upon. She supposed it would be in poor form to just take it right then and there. She didn't want a fight with the agents. For all she knew, it would involve a fight between both HELLSING when they didn't report back, or HELLSING along with the wulver on the other side of the island. So she stood and she thought, trying to come up with an idea in the little time the selkie had left.
Then, descending down the hill came a head of pale blonde hair. The sight made her stomach sink on the spot. He was dressed in a proper suit this time—not the sweater he wore when she first encountered him. It was a formal affair after all, usurping an established leadership.
He held a handkerchief over his nose and mouth, like the one that had stopped him from outright killing Lockie. The assistant that followed him even now had explained that being near the sea had ill effects on him. It was all just perfect, really—a mad king to rule over them instead of one of their own.
"Morning." the man pleasantly greeted with his approach.
"Sir Phantomhive." she acknowledged, extending her hand with her palm facing downward. The gesture seemed to throw him off, somewhat, as she saw a small expression of surprise flash across his face. Still, he politely took her hand. It was astonishing how gentle he was. She could feel a slight heat seeping from underneath the black leather gloves he wore as he bowed and brought her knuckles to his lips. The woman behind him seemed to be rather amused by the show.
"Lady Freya." he greeted in return upon standing back upright and releasing her. "I am glad to hear that Lockie is well. I would like to apologise for my unsightly behaviour during our match."
"Think nothing of it." the woman replied, her face completely still and devoid of feeling. "A duel is a duel. It isn't something to be taken lightly. We, the selkies of Stane island would like to thank you for showing mercy to him."
"You give me far too much credit, my lady. Speaking of which, where is he?"
"He's still getting ready, Sir."
"Ah. That's fine, then. I promise I'll keep my assistant here instead of sending her out to spy on him. I heard she was crawling around in the dirt the other day!"
"Is that really necessary, Sir?" questioned Kayleigh.
"What? It's funny. Your lot are usually so serious, so it's kind of a refreshing image!"
"We're serious because we're soldiers, Sir Phantomhive."
"As am I. Doesn't mean I have to go around making a nasty face all the time!" he grinned, patting his assistant on the back. "C'mon! Loosen up a little!"
"I think you should sniff your rag, Sir." the faoladh answered. "The ocean might be getting to you again."
"Could be." Rather impressively, he didn't press it and instead did as suggested and pressed the handkerchief up to his nose again.
Freya's eyes looked to him, to Kayleigh, and then back again, trying to figure out what it meant. Despite his position and cunning, he allowed his underlings to talk back to him. Then again, perhaps that too was part of his game.
While Jim was preoccupied with that, Freya allowed her gaze to drift back to the other woman's only to be startled when their eyes met. The much taller woman winked at her, seeming unconcerned with the matter and giving off the impression that Freya shouldn't either. Perhaps the selkie was only imagining it, though, Maybe she merely wanted permission not to worry about it as she slowly turned her attention back to the crowd. Soon, however, her attention was diverted again as Lockie came into everyone's view.
He walked over with less confidence than Freya did. His expression was somber and his head was tilted downward just a tad. Mentally, Freya scolded him, but did not possess the psychic power to reach him. Just as she did, however, he stopped before the group, looming down over the menace.
"Your Highness." Jim greeted with a light bow of his head.
"Sir Phantomhive." Lockie answered in turn.
"I'm glad to see that you're well, if not a bit worse for wear."
Lockie grunted. "You're too kind." he muttered out, trying hard to retain eye contact before the two of them mutually decided it was time to face the official.
"Now is the time." The elder selkie said to them before turning toward the crowd as well.
"Ladies and gentlemen," he began, "we have a victor. In the duel between his highness, King Lockie and the honourable Sir Jim Phantomhive for the crown and title of King of the selkies of the Shetland Islands-"
Cutting himself off, the older man looked to Lockie, silently asking him what he should do next and pleading with him not to continue. Lockie nodded, however, giving him no other choice.
"Kneel, Sir Phantomhive." he instructed, prompting the menace to face him and kneel down on one knee. Turning to the side, he picked up the circlet before placing the artifact on the blonde's head. "And rise, King Jim Phantomhive of the selkies of the Shetland Islands."
As Jim stood up, everyone else took his place close to the ground, bowing to complete the ceremony. Kayleigh, Freya, and Lockie were no exceptions. High above a sea of subjects, however, Jim frowned.
"Long live the king!" The sound of their voices hitting his ears filled his stomach with unease.
"Thank you." he said, regardless. "It is truly an honour to wear this crown and to serve the people here. In the very short time I have spent on this island, it has become blatantly apparent that the selkie are a proud people. You hold your convictions close. You fight hard to protect the ones you love and hold dear. You uphold the strongest sense of honour until the very end. Yes, it is indeed an honour to work with you and I look forward to building a bright future for the island alongside you." He took a step forward. "That, however, brings me to my very first official decree as your king."
The crowd was silent as tension loomed in the air so thick you could cut it with a knife. Most felt like they shouldn't be surprised he was going to make some big declaration right then and there, but a few were caught off guard. All, however, were terrified for what awful new restriction they may place on them right away.
"I, King Jim Phantomhive, hereby renounce my title and abdicate the crown over to Lockie of Stane Island!"
The bandaged head of the man in question shot up like a rocket, as did everyone else's. "What?" Lockie questioned, his mouth gaping while the menace casually reached up and removed the circlet from his own head. "What? Wha-wha-wha-what?! What do you mean?!"
"I mean exactly as I said. I'm abdicating the crown over to you. Being king really doesn't suit me. A consort, perhaps, but a king? Absolutely not. Besides, with my 'issue' with the ocean, there's no way I'd ever be able to stand being here long enough to actually govern the place myself! Therefore…" Jim trailed off, walking over to the selkie as he remained kneeling in the sand. As gently as he had held Freya's hand, he placed the circlet over Lockie's head, being careful with his wounds and his bandages.
"Rise, King Lockie of the selkie of the Shetland Islands! Long live the king!" he continued, kneeling on the ground before him and bowing his head.
Lockie shot up in surprise and took a step away from him to create distance only to hear the crowd echo the sentiment. "Long live the king! Long live the king!"
They were cheering for him? Lockie had a hard time wrapping his head around it. They should be appalled at him—outraged, even! How could they? How could they forgive him so easily.
"Looks like your people really love you. I'm glad I made the right choice." Jim said, standing up with the others cheered and held onto each other in celebration. "Shall we start over?"
He held out his hand to shake, wearing a rather genuine grin. "Allow me to reintroduce myself: I'm Sir Jim Phantomhive. I do hope that we can work together in the future."
Lockie looked down at the hand offered to him and then back to the blonde's face. Then, with a short laugh, he took him up on his offer. "King Lockie. You're a real wild one, aren't you?"
"Yeah, I get that a lot, actually. My actual monikier is 'Sir Jim, The Lion.'"
"Ha! I believe it! You sure beat the pish out of me!"
"Yeah… I kinda wanted to apologise for that. Sorry… Me and the ocean don't get along. Normally it's just a little sickness, so that was new. I knew it might be a possibility, which is why I didn't want to fight near the ocean in the first place."
"I wish I'd listened to you then, but then again if I did, we probably wouldn't have fought in the first place, would we?"
"Nope! I find it to be an ineffective way of winning people over. I never had any intention of taking over leadership from the start. It's much easier if I let you do all the governing for me, even if I enact certain policies as a requirement for being in the UK Supernatural Settlement Network."
"Well, fuck me…" With that, he managed to startle the menace for a moment by slapping him hard on the back. He didn't hold back at all, the big bastard. Letting out a hearty laugh from the bottom of his diaphragm, he put an arm around Jim's shoulders and pulled him into a side hug. Raising his free hand in the air, he formed a fist and addressed the crowd. "What are you bastards doing, just standing around?! You've got a new king! Go on and look busy!"
With another laugh, the crowd began to scurry off to do God knows what. Jim certainly didn't have the foggiest idea. Placing a hand on the other man's side, the demon gently tried to push against him in an effort to free himself. "You've sure got a handle on things, don't you, your majesty?"
Looking up on the stern expression that suddenly came over his new associate, he mentally went over the statement to figure out what he might have said to offend. It was for naught, though. Lockie released him just long enough to turn and face him, slamming his hands down roughly on top of the blonde's shoulders.
"What're you-?!"
"How the bloody hell can you pack such a punch when you're so thin?" questioned the selkie. "You need to eat more! Just think about how much stronger you'd be if you put on some muscle!"
"Wha-?! Uh, that's alright, I think I'll pass…"
"Huh?" the larger man almost growled. "The king of the selkie is offering you a meal and you won't even accept?!"
Jim stared at Lockie for a moment, squinting while trying to figure out what the game was, here. "You're messing with me, aren't you?"
"Ha! Of course I am!" The selkie replied, slapping the baronet on the back again. "But in all seriousness, there is going to be a banquet and it'd be a good opportunity to talk a bit before we get to business. Don't worry, it's inside so the air shouldn't bother you."
"Hm… Alright, then. I'll take you up on that."
A/N: Bit short, but an update is an update, I reckon. I'm trying to get back into uploading more frequently. I feel like that last chapter and this one kinda injected some fun back into writing this! Turns out, writing a lot about politics... is kind of boring? Who could have ever foreseen this?
Love the lore. Sometimes writing the lore is a pain though lol.
Anywho, Jim has yet ANOTHER batshit story to tell people. So now he's "The Honourable Sir Jim Phantomhive, The Lion-Count-Consort to House Phantomhive, Hero of Gehenna, Slayer of Abhartach, and the Former King of the Selkie" lmaooooo That's not even all of his epithets... "The Liar Earl, the Saint of Scoundrels, etc." The other ones are just his popular/fun ones.
I swear to God, this guy is like, one instance of being gifted a magic sword by some watery tart away from being King of England, at this point... He's just... So much... He needs to be stopped, but I'm not sure if anyone can...
Until the next chapter, my duckies~!
