#oceanmastertrash

“Madren messaged you,” Orm clarified, equal parts apprehensive and intrigued.

“Yep,” Elara said. “And she wants to meet you.”

Orm stared back at Elara, completely unsure if that was a good or a bad thing.

-

According to Elara, Madren was currently running the Tidewatcher sanctuary in Guatemala. Orm would have preferred to just swim there but, also according to Elara, there were a couple obstacles to that plan. First and foremost the sanctuary was on the opposite coast of Central America than their current location in Belize. Secondly, given what Henrik had told them about the tracking method Black Manta and Dr. Shin were employing, it was in their best interest to stay on land for the time being.

Orm was apprehensive about leaving the shore entirely and fully immersing into life on the surface. The reality of tackling land travel was also something he had no experience with. Elara had some knowledge but she still had to use an internet cafe to nail down the details of their travel and acquired a cheap prepaid phone to better book their surface transportation.

She also changed out of her bloody garments so as to be less conspicuous. It did Orm better than he would like to admit to see her in her fresh clothes. Elara was not the sort to look fragile, wounded though she was, but it comforted him to see her look put back together in a sense. For her part, Elara took comfort in it, she still ached and smarted if she moved the wrong way but she felt less exposed without a literal gaping hole in her shirt.

Elara contemplated renting a car for their travels, as she did have some limited driving lessons but ultimately decided, given some of the weaving of the path, they’d be better off taking public transportation. It would be a long day and a meandering journey. Elara was certain that Orm would suffer quite a bit of frustration and annoyance from the surface dwellers but there was no way to avoid that at this point.

By now the sun was setting and they decided they would begin their journey in the morning. Elara found a motel for them. It was small and probably nowhere near the standards Orm was used to but it had two beds and he at least recognized their need for rest. Elara was exhausted and while her Atlantean healing and the meds from the clinic were helping with the pain of her injuries, she knew she needed some downtime to try to recuperate.

They stayed up a little while longer as Elara did her best to explain surface concepts like the bus system they’d be employing to get to Madren and the credit card she used for most of their purchases as well as her scant knowledge of the currencies she had. Orm thought it all more complicated than it should be but at her argument, conceded that Atlantis and all it’s kingdoms and politics would no doubt befuddle outsiders as well.

After their strenuous day, Elara fell asleep fairly quickly. Orm didn’t like the idea of them both sleeping at the same time surrounded by surface dwellers on all sides but Elara had insisted that the tides would wake her if anyone were to try anything and they should both rest while they can. Orm struggled with this idea. Letting his guard down was not anything that came easy to him, especially not considering they’d already been attacked that day by a surface dweller.

Ultimately though, fatigue won out and Orm fell asleep listening to the sound of Elara breathing. It wasn’t the most restful sleep by far but it was more than he’d expected. It was not particularly lengthy either, because before too long, they were woken by an annoying melody from the cell phone Elara had purchased. It was an alarm she’d set to ensure they would get up early enough to catch the bus. While such an alarm was useful, it was very irritating and Orm loathed it on principle.

They grabbed something to eat at a nearby cafe and then waited at the bus station. Elara had explained that the bus system they were using had many other stops on the way until it eventually stopped closer to the center of Guatemala where they would then catch a smaller bus for a short stint to the town closest to the Tidewatcher sanctuary. There weren’t as many people getting on the bus this early but Elara knew they would have a lot of contact with a lot of people by the time the day was over.

Elara had booked them on one of more luxury liners instead of what the locals referred to as ‘chicken busses’ which ran more locally and, well, had more livestock on board. Elara anticipated that they’d need to use them at some point but thought it best if they put it off for now; one thing at a time and all that.

The wait was short as those around them chatted in languages Orm didn’t understand. It was hard not to feel so very far from home in this moment. Perhaps Elara sensed this from the tides but she subtly shifted so her uninjured arm was pressed against his in a silent show of support. It was a small thing but it helped. If this had been a couple weeks ago he might have been perturbed by how well she could read him but then he supposed she wouldn’t be a very good tidewatcher if she wasn’t good at picking up things like that. She wouldn’t be able to keep them safe if she couldn’t sense something like a change in mood, that could mean everything in a surprise attack. And he had to note she’d never used this to manipulate him or use him, only to help them. He admired that about her.

He was glad to let Elara take charge in the small things like where they sat. If nothing else, he was glad that he didn’t have to reveal further how little he knew of these things though he suspected she knew anyway. They sat towards the back and not very close to any other passengers so they could talk a little freer as long as they spoke quietly. She sat with her bad side to the window. It was going to hurt all day anyway but at least this way she wouldn’t have to worry about him accidentally elbowing her tender side or scraping her arm. She was careful how she held her arm so as not to rub it the wrong way but the bandaging and the jacket she wore helped insulate it more against aggravation.

Once the bus was on its way they didn’t talk at first. While Orm acclimated to the feel of things on the road and amongst surface dwellers like this, Elara took the opportunity to get familiar with the flows of the tides for the bus and their route. As the whole bus had a hectic and chaotic atmosphere to it, she thought it best to get a feel for what patterns were normal for it so she could better spot what was irregular.

After some time had passed and nothing went wrong and no one bothered them, she could feel some of the edge had dissipated off of Orm. She figured now was a good time to try conversing with him to distract him. She’d also strategically let him take the aisle seat because she figured he’d feel more able to protect them that way even if she did not feel such actions would be necessary.

“So,” she began, turning to him, “what do you know about Madren?”

Orm resisted the urge to smirk, of course she would know he was curious about the old tidewatcher even if he hadn’t said anything. He wasn’t proud of it but the idea of meeting Madren intimidated him slightly. While he’d received reports from her during his reign, he’d never met her though he’d certainly heard stories from Vulko and the other Tidewatcher elders over the years. Combine that with all he’d heard from Elara since they’d come to the surface and Madren seemed a larger than life figure to Orm and one that left a profound impression. She was regarded by many as being exceedingly eccentric which Orm had always attributed to the fact that she’d spent several decades on the surface. She wasn’t the only Tidewatcher or Atlantean to maintain an outpost up above but she’d been topside longer than any other Atlantean he’d ever heard of.

She’d acclimated to her environment in unusual ways. When he’d been king, the tidewatcher council would regularly update him on reports from Madren. She could not only sense shifts of surface dweller politics through the tides but also witness it firsthand. She was an invaluable resource but a bit of a wildcard. He’d been content enough to let her stay up here as her intelligence was always timely. He could sense at times she disapproved of his war on the surface but she never interfered which suited him just fine. The same relations between Madren and the king of Atlantis had not always been the case when his father had been on the throne. It was not a subject Orvax had been inclined to speak of which had only served to make it a subject of curiosity for Orm.

“What can you tell me about Madren and my father?” he asked calmly.

Elara raised her eyebrows. That was not the question she had been expecting. “Well you clearly know something or else you wouldn’t ask. What have you heard?”

“Oh just the standard line Orvax circulated to the courts- that he banished her to the surface for her insubordination.” Orm answered with a wry grin, “and enough from Vulko to know that no one actually banished Madren.”

Elara shared a smug grin, “That he most certainly didn’t. Anyone who’s actually met Madren would know that she is not a woman to let anything but the tides tell her what to do. And even then she’ll argue and analyze it five ways to Sunday before consenting.”

“So what really happened?”

“I suppose the diplomatic answer would be that she resented the idea of being under his thumb and subject to his tempers and scrutiny,” Elara said after consideration.

“And the non-diplomatic answer?” he pressed.

“She was tired of his bullshit,” she said straight-face.

“Sounds like she taught you well on that count,” he replied slyly.

“That she did,” Elara agreed. “But the way she tells it, Orvax was a thousand times worse than you ever were. Madren was the best tidewatcher on the council and they both knew it. Madren wasn’t afraid to call him out on his ill-conceived schemes or throw the warnings of the tides in his face if things didn’t work out for Orvax. I don’t think he would have had problems if she was skilled and humble but she was abrasive and loud about it. He knew he couldn’t properly cut off contact with her because what results he saw and liked from the tides mostly came from her leads but he couldn’t abide her publicly contradicting and undermining him.”

“No,” Orm said quietly, “he certainly couldn’t.”

Elara could sense a bitterness and a history to that statement but also that it wasn’t something he was interested in exploring in depth at the moment so she moved on as nonchalantly as she could. “Madren’s no idiot and knew something had to give. Since the tides gave her no indication that Orvax was going to change and she knew she absolutely wasn’t going to, she decided she’d relocate as a sort of truce. Orvax wasn’t wild about her training others on the surface but ultimately agreed that it was preferable to her constantly embarrassing him down below.”

Orm found himself smiling. He enjoyed the way Elara told stories. He found himself content to simply watch how her eyebrows would quirk when she found something amusing and the way she’d gesture with her hands to make a point.  She was certainly more fascinating to watch than whatever was out the window at any rate.

“Everything that was said after she was gone was pure fiction made up to make Orvax sound better once Madren wasn’t in Atlantis to dispute him. All of us tidewatchers knew the truth but it didn’t really matter. Madren said the point was that she didn’t have to deal with him anymore so she was the real winner.” Elara gave an emphatic jab of her finger.

“What about after Orvax died? Why didn’t she come back then?” At this point Orm was just enjoying hearing her talk about it but he was still curious as to Madren’s continued presence on the surface.

A small part of him wondered if Madren stayed away because she didn’t think Orm had been any better of a king than Orvax had. He couldn’t be sure though, it wasn’t as if he and Madren had ever butted heads. It could be different with Tidewatchers, but two people were usually required to have met before having a feud. Orm then felt a twang of unease at the idea that Madren had stayed away because she’d seen his future sins and decided he was just as bad as his father. It wasn’t entirely unwarranted but it also wasn’t an idea he liked to entertain.

Elara sensed a pang of anxiety from Orm but rather than address it she simply continued on. “She was formally invited back for the sake of appearances but she declined. I asked her about it a few years ago and she said that as much as she loved Atlantis, she’d come to love the surface too and she wanted to instill some of that love into the next generation of Tidewatchers. She saw enough ill will between land and sea in the tides but wanted to do what she could to abate it, to remind her fellow Atlanteans that there was much to love and protect up above. She taught me well in that regard too.”

Elara nervously tucked a lock of hair behind her ear, looking down at their feet. Orm was hardly about to declare war against the surface again but she knew that her affection for this world above was still an aberration among her people. While she’d argued with Orm about attacking the surface while they were still in Atlantis, she never would have dared to reveal her fondness for it back then. If she had, he would have just rolled his eyes and condescended.

He did none of those things now. In the brief glance she allowed herself to gauge his reaction, she could have sworn he smiled ruefully.

“Indeed she did,” he finally said quietly. Try as she might, she could sense no derision from the former king and that filled her with a quiet sort of gratitude.

It made sense to Orm. Elara had never shown the slightest hesitancy about coming to the surface. To being the one tasked with keeping him safe, perhaps, but she’d held no reservations for the surface. As comfortable as she was down below, there was an ease to her manner up here that some small part of him envied. He didn’t loathe it as he once had but now he was willing to admit that a lot of his discomfort stemmed from not understanding. He still hated their waste and how the people here took so much for granted but he could see hints of joy too. Though he would at least admit to himself that he might not have seen any without Elara’s influence.

A companionable silence fell between them for a time and Orm found himself thinking about his father and Madren. He might have once considered their relationship a mirror of his with Elara. Both Elara and Madren being the stubborn and defiant Tidewatcher while he and Orvax stood opposite as the haughty and proud king. How things had changed. It surprised him to realize that now he felt more kinship with Elara than he did with his father.

His father might have thought he was doing what was right to make Orm the best ruler he could but that didn’t change the fact that Orvax was a cold and distant father. When he did express emotions for Orm it was more anger and frustration with occasional bursts of small pride. More proud of how he had molded Orm than of anything Orm had done for himself. And Orm had spent so long telling himself that it was alright. That Orvax knew what was best but a quiet doubt had always lingered after Orvax had ordered Atlanna’s death. Justify it as Orvax had, Orm had resented his father for robbing him of the one person whom he had known to actually love him. Altanna may have loved Arthur and missed her life on the surface but she had loved Orm fiercely and protectively. Doing her best to spare him the worst of Orvax’s wrath and raise Orm to be considerate and clever and thoughtful.

That was why Orm had never sent his commandos after Tom or Arthur before Arthur came to Atlantis. The rumors of Atlanna’s bastard had certainly plagued his rule as had the knowledge that Atllanna’s human family was what had led to her death and yet Orm had left them alone. He’d certainly been advised to silence the rumors and have the Currys killed but Orm had resisted. It was the only way he could think of to honor Atlanna’s memory. As much as he hated them for essentially taking his mother from him, he knew that Atlanna had loved Arthur and Tom so he’d left them alone.

It was only when Arthur had come to Atlantis himself and challenged Orm’s right to rule that Orm could resist no longer. He was so close to achieving everything he’d been fighting so long for and he hadn’t been able to stand by and let Arthur challenge him. Add Mera’s betrayal and Orm was stung and retaliated in kind. Orm wasn’t proud of it now, it was the actions of a petty man who was hurt and he knew now he would have regretted it if his commandos had succeeded in killing Arthur and Mera.

As ashamed as Orm felt for some of his actions, Orm realized that if he hadn’t done what he had, he would not be where he was right now. The subject of a future assassination attempt and on the surface he’d spent so long despising perhaps- but he was also sitting next to a befuddling, and bitingly clever Tidewatcher who had seen his worst mistakes and still believed in him and that wasn’t something Orm liked the idea of losing. Realizing this affected him in the most peculiar way. As soon as he thought it, he felt a rush run through him and he couldn’t help the slightest tremor that hit him.

Elara sensed it, of course she did, though he couldn’t be entirely sure if she felt it physically or through the tides. In any case, she had grown so accustomed to him that, minute as it was, she felt it and she tore her gaze from the window to meet his eyes.

Concern played across her wonderfully expressive face and he could practically feel her scanning the tides for the source of the tremor.

“You alright?” She asked quietly, unconsciously leaning closer.

He had the absurd desire to lean in as well, just to be even closer to this startlingly lovely woman, but he kept himself in check, trying to school his features in the wake of such an idea.

“I’m fine,” he answered back just as softly. Not because he was worried about any of the other passengers hearing them but because he had the foolish notion that his realization was like a small, easily frightened animal- likely to flee at any loud sound or sudden motion. He couldn’t stop himself from adding, as gently but reserved as he could manage, “I just wanted to thank you.”

Elara could sense something had changed in Orm but, as fast as her heart was beating at their closeness and distracted as her thoughts were, she just couldn’t put her finger on what that change was.

“Thank me?”

“I don’t think I ever properly thanked you for coming up here with me.” He said, even though that barely scratched the surface of what he was grateful for in this current moment.

He was right. He hadn’t thanked her but, if Elara was being honest, she hadn’t expected him to. She wasn’t sure if that was selling the prince short or not but when all of this started he wasn’t feeling any sense of appreciation at his glorified exile. His thanks were hardly some grand glorious gesture, but given where Orm had started, it meant something to Elara. He might have once taken something like this for granted or assumed that it was her duty and simply expected of her. She had begun this journey feeling like the tides were calling her to do this, so she may have once said that thanks weren’t necessary but many things had changed between them since they had left Atlantis.

“You’re welcome,” was all she said and before she could think better of it, she took his hand.

Orm was getting obnoxiously fond of holding her hand. He remembered seeing Elara and Calysa coming to meet them, holding each other’s arms and being very affectionate and he’d certainly seen such friendly physical exchanges among his citizens when visiting the regions but that type of physical familiarity was never something he’d had access to after Atlanna died.

Given all of her many gifts and deductions, Orm wasn’t sure if Elara knew that or not. Didn’t know if this was just her general way with people she was familiar with or if she was actively trying to compensate for his touch-starved youth. And while he wanted to believe he was special, he wasn’t sure how much it mattered in this exact moment. She was holding his hand because she wanted to, because he’d reached out to her and it felt nice.

They didn’t speak again for awhile and eventually she let his hand go with a tight squeeze before getting into her pack for snack bars. The rest of the day was more of the same. There were a few bathroom stops and a constant shuffle of passengers boarding and departing. Sometimes there would be other passengers all around them and paranoid as Orm was he didn’t feel like chatting much, just in case. Elara mostly respected this but sometimes engaged him in small talk about the food they ate or the areas they passed through. He didn’t feel like she was trying to placate him or appease him, but more felt like she was chatting for her own peace of mind and he did his best to help but obviously had little experience in the subject matter.

It was a baffling day but not as frustrating as it could have been if Orm had been left to navigate it alone. Confident and stubborn as he might have been, he had nothing on Elara’s unflappable calm. No matter how loud the bus got or unintelligible the bus driver, she kept her cool and guided them through. Hours passed in this almost mindless chatter. Elara encouraged him to try to get some more sleep, but he knew he wouldn’t be able to. He may not actively dislike and distrust everyone on this bus as he once had, but it was still too foreign an environment for him to get easy.

Elara, to her credit, tried to stay awake out of solidarity but she just didn’t have the same vigor she usually did. Her injury was healing well. She’d made a point to check on it before they left this morning and once at one of the bathroom stops. It would heal within a few days but it still took a lot of energy in the meantime. As there wasn’t anything pressing to distract her or keep her alert, she kept nodding off, lulled by the easy cadence of their fellow passengers and the feel of the bus rolling along down the highway.

Once she woke up abruptly when a bump in the road caused her forehead to collide with the window. Orm, who had been occupying himself counting and memorizing the other people on the bus, started at Elara’s gasp when she was woken. His warrior instincts immediately put him on edge and on the lookout for the cause. She immediately inspected the point of contact with one hand while holding the other out to him as if to give him the all clear.

“It’s fine, just a bump,” she said and instinctively tilted her head to show that no serious harm had been done.

He appeared to study it for a minute as if to make sure she wasn’t hiding any lacerations. Finally, he nodded as if agreeing with her assessment but then frowned minutely, saying almost under his breath, “this is hardly the smoothest form of transportation. It’s awfully clumsy.”

“Well it beats trekking through the jungle for days on our own.” Elara replied with her usual measure of snark and common sense as well as a signature smirk, “I know that we could handle ourselves but that would have been miserable. Just think of the mosquitoes.”

Not having much experience with the flying pests and still thinking of the realization he’d come to earlier that day, Orm wasn’t sure spending days alone with her in the jungle would be particularly miserable after all. However, he also knew she had a point and with mostly unknown adversaries out there, that would not be the wisest course of action.

“Perhaps,” was all he said in reply. He could accept these things in the name of practicality all day long, and he had, but he wasn’t sure he’d ever feel comfortable up here.

While passengers had left and boarded their bus for hours and no one had attacked them or even properly interacted with him or Elara besides the bus driver, he couldn’t shake the feeling of wrongness and unease. Like they were too exposed. And while Elara was the one thing that was keeping him from complete uneasiness or from complaining about this clumsy earth vehicle spewing noxious fumes, it didn’t mean that he was able to feel comfortable up here.

Even Elara’s ability to balance and calm him instinctively was foreign to him. While Elara was the most familiar thing to him for hundreds of miles, he hadn’t been aware of how much he’d come to count on and trust her until surrounded by others. He still didn’t know what to make of how he was coming to regard her- it was still so strange and new to him.

Elara, of course, being as experienced as she was in interpersonal relationships and friendships might know better how to word or contextualize how he was feeling but he didn’t even know how he could put it into words to ask. And, if he was being honest with himself, he wasn’t sure if she felt any of these confusing sensations that he did. What if she simply had grown to regard him as a friend? While that wouldn’t be the worst fate he could suffer at her hands, he could feel something unlike friendship growing in him. He hadn’t had much experience with friendship to be sure but this was just unlike anything he’d ever known. Worse still, what if she still saw all this as duty? What if she was simply doing all this to fulfill the call of the tides?

She had been the one to kiss him that drunken night but she’d also been the one to leave and shut herself off from him after that. He thought it might have been repulsion at his admission but maybe it was her own way of prioritizing duty? Her way of saying that fun or feelings would always come last. He didn’t know where that left him if that was true. So while Orm had no activity to occupy him physically on their long bus ride, he certainly had much to think of.

Elara, for her part, slept for most of it. When she woke up at the stop where they’d be changing busses she was surprised to find that she had not fallen asleep against the window but with her head leaning on Orm. He was just the right height for her head to rest against his broad shoulder comfortably. As the bus fully stopped and other passengers started getting up, she almost sheepishly lifted her head off of his shoulder. She didn’t know why it struck her so odd, maybe in their tight quarters, Orm didn’t notice? Highly unlikely, but perhaps he was still offended at the crudeness of their transport and bore it to prevent her from further injury? It wasn’t the most plausible explanation but it was all Elara could figure as they gathered their things and disembarked the bus for the final time.

Elara gingerly stretched out. If she felt cramped after hours of being in those tight seats, she couldn’t imagine how Orm felt with his much longer frame. If they’d been alone or back at the cabin she’d expect him to work through some of those fighting forms he’d been so fond of but he instead he opted for more subtle stretches. After they’d both taken advantage of a bathroom and regained feeling in their limbs, she could feel him scanning the area. He hadn't been fond of the bus but after eight something hours it was at least more familiar than this little town in the middle of Guatemala.

Elara could understand that and did her best to feel through the tides for any threat, only to be surprised at a familiar thread.

“When is our next bus set to arrive?” Orm asked, looking around dubiously.

“Actually,” Elara said, feeling more confidence in her reading, taking gradual steps forward as she mentally tugged on the tide, “we aren’t taking a bus to the sanctuary.”

“We aren’t?” he asked, confusion and alarm coming off of him.

“No,” she replied as she reached the other end of the pull and pointed to the off-roads Jeep at the far end of the street.

An older woman with long gray hair pulled back under a sun hat sat in the driver’s seat. Her eyes were fixed squarely on the two of them with an almost wicked smile on her face, clear to see even from where they stood.

“Is that...” Orm began but of course it was. Who else could have seen when and where their bus would stop?

She wanted to ask if he’d heard her through the tides, wanted to say how scared she’d been, but instead she just whispered against his shoulder, “Thank you”

He tightened his hold on her just slightly as he said, “You’re welcome.”

-

Orm hadn’t wanted to let go of Elara.

When he’d first seen her being attacked, some angry primal part of him took over. He may have cause to feel protective of her but he couldn’t begin to grasp the scope of the rage that had gripped him when he’d seen her being hurt. He knew they’d done the only thing that they could have but that did nothing to quell the sour feeling in his gut that kept telling him he could have done something better.

Holding her, he couldn’t help but marvel at the fact that she sought any sort of comfort from him. At the same time he was grateful for physical reassurance that he had made it in time, that he hadn’t failed the one person who was still in his reach.

Slowly, she let him go so she could sit down and recover a bit while he worked to clean up after the fight. Namely, retrieve weapons and find something to tie up their attacker with. Elara said she was fine and she may have even meant it once she’d had the chance to catch her breath but she couldn’t say she wasn’t hurt. She’d walked a little stiffly on her left leg and now sat with it held out at an odd angle. They’d also had to redress her side as she’d bled through the last one. And most infuriating for Orm, there were angry bruises beginning to bloom on her neck that just made him taste bile.

He tried to focus on the tasks at hand but he couldn’t stop from looking up at Elara every few seconds, as if reassuring himself that nothing else would happen to her on his watch.

A few minutes later, after finishing the last knot of his improvised rope of vines, he stood from his crouch and sat a little space away from Elara on the crag of rocks she was perched on. While comforted by her presence beside him, he tried to focus on anything else other than the worry in his gut over the whole situation. “Have you learned anything else about him from the tides?”

Elara made a face as she repositioned her legs to face him better before answering, “No, but he said something odd when we were fighting. He kept asking me where Aquaman is. But I don’t even know who that is.”

Orm tried very hard not to groan as he answered, “Arthur; Arthur is Aquaman or at least that’s what the surface dwellers have taken to calling him anyway.”

“Why do you think he wants Arthur?” She asked.

Orm thought, a flicker of an old conversation swam to mind and he didn’t like what he found but at this stage of the game, there was no point in keeping it from Elara, not when he’d already told her the rest of the story.

“I think this man,” Orm said, gesturing to the unconscious, bound man beside him, “is working with the mercenary I told you about.”

He saw confusion cross her features so he elaborated, reluctantly, “The mercenary I paid to kill Arthur.”

Her eyebrows raised in recognition but, to his great relief, she showed no signs of disgust at the reminder of what he’d told her.

“That mercenary, who called himself the Black Manta, had said that Aquaman was responsible for his father’s death. And that,” Orm now pointed at the cannon he’d retrieved, “looks like its based on the weapon I’d given to him.”

Elara didn’t say anything at first, seeming to weigh what he’d said carefully. The wait was probably less than a minute but felt so very long and heavy to Orm. She didn’t appear to be immediately disgusted or surprised, only a slight squint of her eyes gave away any indication on how she took this news.

Finally she nodded to herself, as if filing it away before moving on in her typical efficient manner. “Okay, so we’re thinking that he’s working with this Black Manta.”

“Its stands to reason,” Orm said trying to remain unemotional. “But we’ll know for sure when he wakes up.”

“And that might be awhile.” Elara gave him a sly smile that he couldn’t help but feel grateful for, “Looks like someone was maybe too effective in their incapacitating.”

Orm allowed himself to return a small smile of his own, happier than he should be at her teasing. “Would you rather I had been less effective?”

“Not at all,” Her tone light but his eyes didn’t miss the way her throat clenched slightly nor the warm look she gave him, “protective is a good look on you.”

Now it was Orm’s turn to file that away for later. Given everything that had happened and how he felt the situation was largely his fault he had no idea how to process this.

He made to speak but for the life of him he didn’t know what to say to that so Elara spoke again, “Thank you again, Orm. Really. I knew I could count on you.”

Orm, cleared his throat. He really did enjoy hearing her speak highly of him, especially with such earnestness but it wasn’t right. Not with her injured as she was and the blame lying with him.

“You do know that if I’m right, and that even though they aren’t after me, this attack is my fault.” Orm said lightly, keeping his eyes averted from her, not wanting to see a change in her countenance.

“Really?” Elara asked, “I don’t remember you killing Black Manta’s father.”

Orm looked back at her at that, a light disapproving stare plain on his face but she met him with one of her own. She knew exactly what he meant but was being stubborn about it. A big part of him wanted to argue with her but she made it clear from the look on her face she wasn’t going to join Orm in blaming him for this no matter what he said. He’d learned well enough by now there was little hope in changing her mind once she’d set on something or, in this case, against something.

Orm finally just sighed, lacking the energy to fight. “Alright, fine, but we still don’t know how he found us.”

“Another question to ask when he wakes up,” Elara agreed before she cocked her head and looked at him, a strange light in her eyes. “Speaking of, how would you say you found me?”

Orm furrowed his brow, surprised by the change in conversation, then in confusion as he tried to think of how exactly he’d done it. “I...I don’t know. I just had this feeling like you were in danger. And I knew I had to hurry so I backtracked the above ground path until I saw him attacking you.”

He’d been looking at the ground as he’d thought but when he looked back at Elara, she had this very pleased and knowing look on her face.

“I knew it!” she pointed at him enthusiastically, “You heard me.”

“What are you talking about?” He was very perplexed at her change in demeanor, though perhaps even slightly amused as well.

“When I figured out he was going to reach me before I got to the rendezvous point, I reached out to you with the tides,” she pointed at him again in an almost delighted manner, “and you listened.”

He paused, trying to figure out exactly how to process what she’d just said. “How...you… you used the tides to reach me? How did that work? I thought you had to be a tidewatcher to read the tides?”

She still had that excited smile as she watched him process it.

“Normally yes, but that’s only because they are the ones with the training to really parse out the patterns and intricacies in the tides. Not all tidewatchers are born. It can be taught. And certain things are easier to get across. In this case, we’ve spent a lot of time in close quarters together so, whether you are aware of it consciously, your tides are more attuned to mine. It would be much harder to reach out to someone I’m not familiar with. But all of that could have led to nothing if you weren’t, on some subconscious level, open to the tides. And for that I’m very grateful.”

As if to punctuate her point, she extended a hand to him, which he took nearly without thinking.

Then he just found himself staring at her as he tried to take it in. He’d never been well versed in the workings of tidewatching and hadn’t ever been especially curious enough to find out more but he’d always thought of some things to be set in stone. He’d always assumed that tidewatching was an ability like how Atlanteans could breath underwater- that it was a gift you were born with, not a skill you could learn. And yet, according to her, he had, at least to some degree, listened to the tides and doing so had saved Elara’s life.

She squeezed his hand and it felt like they were back on the couch that night he’d told her everything. Just like then, he was surprised to be holding her hand but he’d be damned if he would be the first to let go. This time he kept her gaze and it was a fierce and hopeful thing.

“I know that you think this whole mess is your fault and that all of this bad is because of you but you’re wrong. This isn’t all on you. Yes, you made bad choices and now we’re dealing with the consequences but you aren’t responsible for all of this. Arthur made his own choices and I’d be more than willing to bet that a good deal of this is back on Black Manta. He was a mercenary and I’m sure he had his share of blood on his hands and more mistakes than yours in his past. If I’ve learned anything from the tides, it’s that it takes more than one thrown stone to cause a tidal wave.”

Orm made to speak up, his eyes locked on the ugly bruises on her throat but she gave his hand a firm squeeze and recaptured his gaze with her hard amber eyes.

“No, listen to me. I know you are blaming yourself for what happened to me,” she motioned at her various injuries with her free hand. “But these are because of my decision. I own my own part of this. No one ordered me to come up here, Arthur offered me an out but I wouldn’t take it. I decided to come up here with you because I believed it was the right thing to do and because I believed in you. And I still do. I do even more now than I did yesterday. You allowed yourself to be open enough to listen to the tides and because of that you were there when I needed you most. Do you honestly think you could have done that before you came up here?”

He sighed, his eyes tracing the shape of their hands intertwined. He’d always prided himself at being fairly eloquent and skilled at getting his point across, that paired with his status had meant that he’d very rarely ever lost an argument. He was, in fact, fairly certain that nearly all of the arguments he’d lost or had ended in a draw had either been held with Elara or his father. As for this particular this argument, well it was definitely joining the others in the lost column.

“No, I can’t say I could have,” he finally said, meeting her eyes once more. “But I guess Arthur was right when he said I’d learn things on the surface.”

She grinned at that. Little crinkles squinching at the corner of her eyes. Orm knew that given no other worries or responsibilities, he would have been happy to spend the rest of the day just like that. It was perhaps more sentimental than he was ever accustomed to thinking but who was to know?  He found himself enjoying the reassurance of her presence and her faith in him as she held his hand. But of course that was when a slight groan beside him disturbed the peace of the moment.

Elara slowly withdrew her hand from Orm’s  to look over his shoulder at their assailant.

“Looks like nap time is over,” she said as he followed her gaze to hide his disappointed expression. It was back to business.

Elara stayed where she was but Orm turned and stood to stand in front of the man. Given Elara’s injuries Orm hadn’t felt charitable enough to wipe the blood from the man’s face but as he slowly came to, while perhaps discombobulated, the man didn’t seem particularly surprised. Instead glaring up at Orm like he had any right to.

“Who are you?” Elara asked, wanting to get some things out of the way before the staring contest went into full swing.

The man continued to glare at Orm without speaking which Orm just wasn’t having. He took a couple steps back and then picked up the cannon and pointed it straight at the man.

“The lady asked you a question,” was all he said.

Elara wanted to roll her eyes. Threatening a man with a cannon for ignoring her was hardly what she would call a restrained approach but, given his reaction to her injuries, she got the feeling that this was restrained for Orm so she let it slide. Plus, it did have results.

Not looking away from the angry Atlantean with a cannon, the man answered grudgingly, “Henrik Garrison.”

“Thank you Henrik,” Elara replied, slightly amused that she and Orm were, as the surface dwellers would call it, playing good cop/bad cop. “Who are you working for?”

She saw a slight muscle twitch in Orm’s neck and she knew what he was thinking. They were both reasonably certain that it was Black Manta but she thought it was better to be fully informed than simply trusting guesswork.

Either Orm was still convincingly glaring at him or his loyalties were not exactly strong because Henrik was quicker to answer, “David Kane.”

“Also known as the Black Manta?” Elara asked.

“Yeah, that’s him.” Henrik replied with a slight hint of disdain which interested Elara but obviously wasn’t the most important thing right now.

“Why were you after us?” she asked, ticking off her mental list of loose ends.

“I wasn’t,” he said with a degree of frustration. Elara got the feeling he wasn’t used to losing.

“Right then,” she said when it was clear he wasn’t going to elaborate, “why were you after Aquaman?”

Henrik was clearly regretting revealing that tidbit even though he’d thought he had the upper hand at the time.

When he didn’t answer, Elara tried another tack. “What, you’re really willing to die for another man’s vendetta? You seem smarter than that.”

Henrik met her eyes for the first time. His stare was angry but perhaps less at her than she might have expected.

“I don’t care about who killed who. I’m in it for the money.”

“Alright then, where’s the money coming from?” she asked.

At Henrik’s hesitation Orm tightened his grip on the cannon and though Elara couldn’t see his face she had a feeling he had some sort of expression that conveyed how willing and enthusiastic he was to hurt Henrik with the weapon without even bothering to fire a blast.

Henrik was quick to look back at Elara, “There’s this doctor helping Kane- Dr. Shin. He wants to find Aquaman to prove that Atlantis exists and are the cause of all that garbage washing up on shore along with all the other weird ocean shit that’s been happening.”

Elara looked to Orm to see his shoulders instantly tense but neither of them said anything. Henrik clearly didn’t know that it was Orm which very likely meant that this Dr. Shin didn’t know and if Kane knew or figured it out then he hadn’t told the others. Unfortunately, it wasn’t something Elara felt she could ask about without drawing more attention to it. She could very easily seeing Henrik selling this information to Dr. Shin if they were to tell him.

“If you were looking for Aquaman, how did you find us?” She decided to ask instead as it was the next big pressing issue.

Henrik seemed to internally squirm again and she got the feeling that he was much more used to being on the asking end of such interrogations.

“Would you prefer I ask?” Orm said, speaking for the first time since their interrogation had begun.

A twitch on Henrik’s face told Elara that if his head weren’t still wringing from where Orm had clocked him, he’d very likely say something very very derogatory but, fortunately for his sake, he kept it to himself. The mercenary then very pointedly looked to Elara, ignoring Orm as if this was some kind of defiance instead of giving them what they wanted. As far as Elara was concerned, he could believe whatever he wanted as long as he answered their questions.

Henrik focused on Elara, “Listen, I don’t know the science of it all, and I didn’t care enough to find out but the doctor was always going on about new ways to detect and find Aquaman. He said something about picking up some kind of pheromone or signature wherever Aquaman had been. So he rigged up this scanner to focus on that and Kane sent us out to scan different parts of the oceans he deemed Aquaman most likely to appear in. I just happened to pick up on you two but I thought you’d be Aquaman and that redhead chick from before.”

Elara wasn’t sure she’d ever hear Mera, Princess of Xebel and most likely the future queen of Atlantis ever referred to as ‘that redhead chick’ but given Henrik’s compromised morality, she supposed it could have been worse. Also it was perhaps better that he didn’t know her title or importance. And as far as tracking methods it could have been worse but it also could have been better. At least they somehow hadn’t missed someone planting a device on them but the fact that it was some kind of natural frequency they gave off was problematic. But that obviously wasn’t a problem they were going to discuss with this muscle for hire.

“Did you tell anyone you found us?” Orm asked.

“No.” Henrik said more petulantly than Elara would have to a man holding a cannon to his face.

“Why not?” Orm said, rightfully dubious.

“We only get paid on delivery.” Henrik answered.

“And let me guess,” Elara said, stepping back in, “You didn’t want to risk anyone else beating you to it and the money.”

“Something like that,” Henrik replied as grudging as ever.

Orm took another step closer, careful not to get too close but close enough that the threat in his eyes was clear to see, “For your sake, that better be true.”

“It is,” Henrik bit out, matching Orm’s anger with his own.

“You have a vessel?” Orm asked.

“What makes you think I do?” Henrik challenged.

Orm just continued to stare at him, unphased. Though Elara was unsure if Henrik knew they were Atlanteans, through his tracking he had to have gotten some clue at how fast they swam. He wasn’t fooling anyone with his claim that he could keep up with them without some kind of ship.

And from the impressions she got from him in the tides, he definitely had one.

“Where is it?” She asked not even bothering to pretend with him.

Henrik glared at her this time but it didn’t have nearly the same bite as his glares to Orm. “Just offshore from where I shot you.”

“Thank you, Henrik.” She said, trying to think if there were any other questions she had left. When she couldn’t think of any instead she said, “Can I make a personal suggestion?”

He continued his glare but she didn’t let it phase her, “find a less dangerous line of work. Find money elsewhere. You’ll find nothing more pleasant than this if you continue hunting the Aquaman.”

She honestly didn’t think he’d listen to her but best she try to ward him off this foolish venture. Orm was less ruthless than he once was but she had little question that, if given the slightest reason and opportunity in the future, he would be far less gentle that a quick knockout and some glares.

“Noted,” Henrik said but Elara seriously doubted he actually did.

“Any further questions?” Orm asked, turning back briefly to look at Elara.

“No, I think that’s it.” She answered.

“Good,” Orm said then swiftly knocked Henrik back out with the butt of the cannon.

“Well that was blunt." Elara said simply.

"Would you have preferred I be more delicate with our good friend Henrik the mercenary who just tried to kill us?"

Elara raised her hands in surrender,  "I'm not saying that. That's just not how I tend to end most conversations."

Orm snorted and put down the cannon again.

“What are we going to do with that anyway?” Elara asked motioning to it.

“We can’t take it with us,” Orm decided looking at the bulky thing before deciding, “We should destroy it. It’s unlikely to be their only such weapon but we can’t leave it here for Henrik or anyone else to abuse.”

Elara looked to the device, “How do you propose we do that? Drop it off a cliff?”

“Perhaps as a final step but I recommend we be more thorough. Given the unstable nature of it that we saw earlier, I should be able to destabilize its power source with the help of one of your knives. Then I recommend smashing it and then throwing it off the cliff.” He said all this very critically as he thought.

Elara wanted to tease him for such a thorough methodology but given the damage this could do and the responsibility he no doubt still felt that it even existed, she decided against it, instead settling for, “Alright, then what?”

“Then we should see about his ship, move or deactivate it if we can and then see if we can find a village with a doctor that can look at your injuries,” he spoke matter-of-factly and yet still very much managed to surprise Elara.

She didn’t know if she could have predicted him ever suggesting going to the surface dwellers for help of any kind. She wasn’t opposed to the idea, she just wanted to be sure he was sure.

“Are you sure? I’ve still got my salve and I will heal in a few days time,” she said. She was in a fair amount of pain but nothing her advanced Atlantean healing couldn’t handle.

He nodded gravely, “We need more bandages anyway and I want to be certain that there wasn’t anything I missed when cleaning it. It will take more time and rest to heal if it’s infected.”

Elara decided to not make a deal out of it. It was very big of Orm to suggest it and she certainly wouldn’t be the one to try to dissuade him from it, “Alright then. Let’s get started.”

Orm had taken the trouble to retrieve her daggers from where they’d fallen in the fight and made quick work of the cannon. While throwing it off the cliff was more dramatic and final, they decided it was more expeditious, not to mention more environmentally-friendly to simply trigger it to short circuit and explode. It took a little bit of doing but ultimately he rigged it to go off at the bottom of a cave. There were still a few singed bits and chunks but nothing anyone would be able to reconstruct into anything meaningful or destructive.

As for Henrik, they decided to leave him where he was tied up. Elara had little doubt that an industrious guy like him would be able to eventually free himself of his bonds and find his own way off the island. Elara had a sinking suspicion that they hadn’t seen the last of him but she’d done what she could.

Orm knew that if this had been before his dethroning he would have killed Henrik with little remorse. And while it was certainly a permanent way of insuring they would never have to worry about him, he knew it was the wrong way. If he wanted to make better choices and be the kind of person that deserved the faith that Elara put in him, he couldn’t think like that. As it was, he sincerely considering breaking the mercenary’s leg to slow him down. But again, he wasn’t that person anymore and he knew Elara would frown on severely injuring an unarmed man.

From there they returned to the beach and sought out Henrik’s ship. It was a small, utilitarian sort of hybrid sub. Clearly meant for stealth, speed, and battle. After gleaning what limited information they could from the on-board computer, they disabled the sub’s tracking device. From there, they worked to locate the reader Henrik had mentioned that had focused in on their Atlantean signature. It was a small device and, though surface dweller technology was not exactly in either of their wheelhouses, Elara did her best to disengage it from the sub. She was fairly certain that it didn’t have a gps transmitter of its own and thought it best to take it with them for further study.

After that and some experimentation with the navigation they piloted the sub back to the mainland where they'd have a better chance at a decent doctor but far south of Tulum to avoid tracking. And then for good measure they sunk the sub far off shore.

Elara had worried that a surface doctor would ask too many questions or require an appointment or insurance but the small clinic in the port town they landed at hardly blinked an eye at their wet clothes and her strange injuries. Indeed they weren't even the worst injuries in the clinic. This was troubling to Orm but Elara knew better than to question their no questions attitude. At least they were helping.

As Elara allowed the harried woman to examine her, with Orm just outside, she began to feel a familiar tugging from the tides. Elara had a suspicion but refrained from pulling on that particular thread until they had left the clinic. They were quiet as they left the clinic, new bandages, ointment and a prescription she would never fill tucked away in her bag.

They’d planned to grab something to eat and plan out their next move. Elara had picked out a little taco stand down the street from the clinic and the two waited and placed their orders. All the while, Elara was slowly pulling at that little thread in the tides. It wasn’t until they were sitting down and eating that she finally entangled it and heard the words trapped inside.

“You’re back up on the surface and not even saying hello? For shame little one. And I see you’ve gotten yourself into a spot of trouble as well. Why don’t you bring your Prince to come see me, and maybe I can help you two out with your little quest.”

She put down her taco as a warmth that had nothing to do with the sun filled her. Orm looked up to see a smile on her face.

“What?”

“I got a message in tides,” She replied.

Orm, whose limited experience with tide messages all involved warnings and portents of doom was perhaps a touch wary at such a proclamation. And yet Elara’s smiling face held no hint of any reservations and he supposed that had to count for something.

“Who’s it from?” he finally asked, putting his food down as well.

“Madren,” Elara answered with a wider grin.

She enjoyed watching the emotions play across Orm’s face as he pieced together all of the tidbits Elara had told him about her. Madren was a wise and experienced tidewatcher, a Watcher who was friends with Vulko, one of the elders who taught the tides on the surface, and perhaps most worryingly to him anyway, the one who had introduced Elara to alcohol which had been a blessing and a curse when he and Elara had dabbled with it.

“Madren messaged you,” Orm clarified, equal parts apprehensive and intrigued.

“Yep,” Elara said. “And she wants to meet you.”

“I still don’t like this,” He finally sighed, returning her gaze once more. “But I’ll trust you to get us out of this.”

-

Elara did her best to hide her surprise and gratitude. She could tell this was not an easy feat for him and she wanted so very much to make sure he knew she didn’t take this for granted. She wanted nothing more than to bask in this moment, in this very high compliment of his trust but there wasn’t time for that.

She couldn’t help but smile only a little at him as she did her best to move forward with their discussion, “Okay, so we’re reasonably sure that he’s after you, but since we’re not sure how  he’s tracking us, we’ve got to come up with some sort of way to lure him to where we want him to go.”

“You’re suggesting one of us lead him away and the other be waiting to attack him?” He clarified. If he was going to go along with this ludicrous proposal he wanted to be sure they did it right.

“Exactly. But I could use your help fine-tuning it, you’re better at this sort of strategizing than I am.”

She was flattering him and he knew it, no doubt trying to soften the blow of him agreeing to her idea or perhaps thank him for trusting her. And while what she said was true, she wasn’t exactly useless in such strategizing. With her knack for patterns and predictions she had skill all her own.

He leaned forward, shooting her an almost teasing look, “Let me guess, you think you should be the one to lead him to the ambush?”

She cocked an eyebrow at him, “Yes, because it would be foolish to have the injured tidewatcher be the one attacking instead of the seasoned warrior.”

He just barely kept an eye roll contained. She was laying it on thick but he didn’t mind as much as he should.

“Alright, I think the key here is both to distract and mislead him enough so he doesn’t notice it’s just you he’s tracking while finding a more advantageous spot for an ambush of our own. Think you can sense that from here?”

She cocked her head, “That’s not the traditional use of the tides but it’s worth a shot.”

She closed her eyes and Orm couldn’t help but stare at her, trying not to second guess his decision to trust her. He wanted her to be right and wanted this to work out but he didn’t want her to get hurt even worse. She was one of the strongest and smartest people he knew but there are somethings that just came down to chance and chance could never be trusted.

Elara looked to him again, “I think I’ve got something.”

The cave system led out to series of cliffs and winding paths down to shore. If Elara could get back above the cave system onto the forest floor proper, she could stand a better chance at attracting the attention of the tracker. Meanwhile, Orm could continue through the caves to the cliffs and attack the man from there. Orm also comforted himself that if he heard any explosions or signs of a fight from up above he could climb out of the caves and come to Elara’s aid. It wasn’t a perfect plan but it would have to do.

They found a smaller section of cave ahead of them where the roof was much lower and there were ledges that Elara could could ascend to get up above. Wariness was seeping through Orm as he ran through the plan in his mind again, looking for any way to better guarantee success but he knew they’d already done the best they could. All that was left was to act before they lost their window for surprise.

Orm just couldn’t shake this sense of dread at them splitting up. While it wasn’t especially productive, he felt responsible for her and could only assume that it was a hold over from being king. As king, he’d been responsible for the safety and well being of a whole kingdom but since his flight from Atlantis, his purview of citizenry had been reduced to a kingdom of one. Travelling with Elara was nothing like ruling a kingdom and he would be a fool to try to command let alone rule someone like Elara, but that compulsion to protect had not gone away. Right now, that impulse was especially strong considering she was only up here in harm’s way on his behalf.

He knew that this was their best shot at getting out of this scrape but he wasn’t sure what he would do if something serious happened to her when he wasn’t there to watch her back. As a ruler and a warrior, he’d always prided himself for his ability to distance himself from his emotions to make the hard calls. And yet, doing the same now was harder than it should be.

Elara, meanwhile, was rechecking her bandages which Orm had expertly dressed, and feeling out their path and plan in the tides for any last minute adjustments. She was confident in her decision and in her plan but the execution of it was still daunting. She and Orm had left behind their people when they’d left Atlantis, and something in Elara resisted the idea of splitting from Orm. It felt like once they separated, she’d be truly alone. Elara had to take a breath to steady herself. She had to believe in herself, in Orm, and in the tides to see them through.

She looked to Orm now, trying not to overthink things. He met her gaze calmly and gave her a small nod, as if to reinforce his trust in her. He trusted her enough to believe they could get through this. It was a small thing, but it helped. It made her feel like, even if they were not going through this next bit of their journey together, he was with her in this struggle.

“Give me a boost?” She asked him, tilting her head up to the hole in the roof. There was no point in asking if he was ready, they had to be.

He knelt down, making  a cradle with his hands to give her a step up. She put her foot in place and then grabbed onto his shoulders to leverage herself up, she then very slowly, careful of her injured side, stepped from his hands to the next ledge up. Once his hands were free, he extended one against the small of her back to keep her from tilting back while he held the other out in case she started to tip.

Cautiously she climbed the small rocky outcropping until she stood on the forest floor, looking down to see Orm down below. She wanted to tell him to be safe but worried he might find it condescending, instead she just raised a hand in farewell and said, “See you soon.”

He nodded, swallowing down anything else he might say and simply repeated her, making it sound more like a promise. “See you soon.”

Elara gazed down at him for another few seconds before straightening her back and turning away from the hole to begin her trek to the ambush spot. They needed to be quick about things now.

Following suit, he turned to follow his own path in the tunnels, careful to make as little noise as possible, finding small comfort in hearing the rustling of leaves and the snapping of twigs as Elara made her own way up above. For the first part of the journey, he could walk roughly parallel to her and could hear if anything went wrong but in some places the tunnels veered away and deeper under the surface.

Orm could still see because he was used to seeing in the depths of the ocean, but he didn’t linger long enough to make any comparisons between the two. He was swift and efficient, prioritizing speed over everything else. This risky plan would only work if he either kept pace with Elara up above or beat her to the rendezvous point. His tactical mind was always planning several steps ahead and prone to envisioning the worst so that he could plan around it but he was very careful to keep those possibilities out of his mind’s eye.

He couldn’t properly strategize what he would do if he was too late but it wasn’t something he could wrap his head around and still be productive. Following his earlier advice to Elara, he just focused on his breathing as he navigated the winding path she’d laid out for him. He’d worry later.

Elara, meanwhile, was having perhaps more difficulty with her path through the constantly changing and rocky terrain due to her side constantly hitching and stinging with the exertion. The one benefit to their plan was that she didn’t have to worry about how much noise she made. In fact, it was best if she attracted some attention.

The tides gave no indication of pursuit but they had a different energy than she’d felt throughout the rest of the day. Earlier all she’d been able to feel was an angry, uncomfortable buzzing. The tides had been oppressive and intent on making her aware of the threat, but now, while they still hummed and remained taut with the presence of the hunter, it felt less threatening. And that, abstract as it may be, enforced to her that she’d made the right call with this plan. The swells of the tide felt more manageable and it made her feel like they could get through this.

As their paths diverged she found herself latching onto Orm’s tides as she felt him on his own path. She tried to tell herself it was just a precaution but there were nerves there that were hard for her to name.

If this had been a week ago when they’d first come to the surface, she might have expected him to make a beeline for the ocean and return to Atlantis, but she didn’t fear that from him now. He seemed to show real concern and even at times, a deference for her gifts. She liked to imagine that he might care for her but even if that wasn’t the case, he was smart enough not to try to go his own way in this situation, especially considering how against the idea of splitting up he had been. No, they would find each other again.

Even as she thought this, she felt the tight thread of their attacker pulse with his approach. She quickened her pace, it would not do for him to catch up before she was at the appropriate point. Orm seemed to be right on track, but she had to speed up.

Elara’s main concern was that she could sense the approach of the attacker but she couldn’t be completely sure if he was following her or Orm and it was difficult to narrow in on that particular pattern while maintaining her current speed. She let everything go except focusing on putting one foot in front of the other and the tides around her. In this focused manner she could feel the intent of their pursuer and tried to use that to hone in on their location. This, again, wasn’t the traditional use of the tides but sort of a variant of the battle tides Zult had taught her.

And there, there he was, following her progress and closing in. The tides showed that the man had caught her trail would probably catch up with her in less than five minutes. But that was too soon! She didn’t think she’d get to the cliffside rendezvous point for another ten minutes. She dropped the thread of the tides and put all of her efforts into increasing speed. If she could just get their faster, maybe Orm would hear the commotion if she was attacked.

With this in mind, feeling the tension getting tighter around her, she thought of one other option though it was a long shot. Tidewatchers could communicate by mentally manipulating the tides around them and sending images or feelings to other Tidewatchers. If this had been A’bree or Calysa, she wouldn’t have hesitated but she wasn’t sure if Orm would even feel it or know what it meant if she tried to send him a message the same way. Back when she was a novice and first instructed in this way, it had felt exceptionally foreign and hard to pick up in the beginning. It was a skill that had to be honed meticulously through extended awareness in the tides and how their patterns naturally flowed.

Only because they’d had such a heightened awareness and prolonged exposure to each other did Elara even think it stood half a chance. She kept it simple, focusing more on emotions like urgency and danger and then wrapped them around the image of where she saw the attacker catching up with her and then sent them down the tides to Orm. She kept up that routine while running until her side ached. Her injury begged her to slow down but she had to give herself every chance she could for this to work.

She’d been at this grueling pace for a few minutes when she heard the crashing behind her and knew she was almost out of time. She scanned the forest around her for any coverage she could find. The terrain had become hilly and pocked with boulders in places where the tunnel system met the forest floor. She couldn’t hope to make it to the original ambush spot but she could at least make herself less of an easy target. Ducking behind the boulders, she pulled her knives from her boots and strategized.

She covered what distance she could, trying to stay out of view while constantly sending her message along the tides to Orm. The crunching of the underbrush grew louder until she no longer felt like she could risk leaving the cover of the trees and rock formation she was leaning against. Like it or not, this was gonna be where she had to make the most of things. About 12 feet ahead of her was a sudden opening to the caves beneath which would be her goal for her plan. It was a bit of a drop, about 20 feet so she had a reasonable chance of injuring or delaying him if she could throw him in there.

A slight rustle on the other side of her cover told Elara her time was almost up. She focused on her location and her connection to Orm, this time sending the word “hurry” down the line and prayed he could interpret what she’d sent. She adjusted her grip on her blades and tensed for the fight. Then he was there, a man all in black, passing right beside her with his large, unwieldy cannon, his eyes fixed ahead, searching for her. She did not wait.

Elara leapt for the man, and used her one chance at surprise to rip the cannon from him and toss it as far as she could behind them. Then she swung a dagger with her other hand. She may have stripped him of his weapon but he was far from helpless and blocked her knife easily enough.  

She tried again with the other blade and managed to graze his arm before he knocked her back. She stumbled against the rock she’d hid behind but was quick to launch herself off it, aiming to move them closer to the hole.

The shock wearing off, and showing anger at the wound, the man switched to the offensive. It was only through the tides that she was able to keep up with him. She wasn’t especially short but he had several inches on her and with her exhaustion, she could feel the disadvantage more. She’d been trained to use her size to an advantage against large adversaries and she would be using every trick in the book she had. At least he wasn’t so very large. While tall, he was lean, but also built and knew how to fight.

He was quick to catch one of her knives mid-strike and wrest it from her. She allowed him to push her back by several feet because it took them closer to the pit. She tried to keep aware of the small hole behind her, lest she fall in it herself, but it was all she could do to keep up with him. She was worn out already from her hurried trek here and her side burned with each strike and dodge. If the man was tired from his pursuit of them at all, he didn’t show it. His blows were relentless and while she avoided several, he still got in several good hits.

He swung with her knife to her right and while she was able to block it, he surprised her with a sucker punch to the left, hitting her right where the splinter had struck. Air gusted out of her and she couldn’t help her wince of pain.

She didn’t know if he’d known about her injury before but from the way his eyes lit up as he saw blood begin to seep through the bandage, he certainly did now. In any other situation she would have sighed. She didn’t need to be a tidewatcher to know this was going to hurt.

He was a skilled fighter and his strength and size were enough to nearly overwhelm her. She tried her best to protect her side but he still got in another good punch. Her only consolation was they were getting closer to the cave opening but with each strike dealt and dodged, she began to worry she wouldn’t have the strength to get him down there without falling in herself.

They were probably 5 feet from the hole when, while attempting to dodge a vicious kick from the man, Elara stepped back only to lose her footing on the uneven terrain and fall to the ground, sending the knife she had left, flying from her grip. The man made for her with his blade so Elara made a quick roll out of the way, dislodging rocks around her. One rock skittered and fell straight in the hole.

His eyes followed the movement and seemed to finally notice the pit, his eyes narrowed and then fell on Elara with vicious anger as he seemed to grasp her plan. He brought his foot up as if to stomp on her and she clenched her fists and held her bent arms in front of her and, grunting, shoved his foot back with the backs of her forearms.

The action temporarily threw him off balance enough for her to scramble to the side, sitting up from where she’d fallen. She made to sweep his legs out from under him to bring him to her level. He barely sidestepped her kick but was knocked a bit closer to the pit with the move. Before she could try again, he dove for her again with her knife. Using her angle to her advantage, she struck him in the wrist from below and he lost his grip on the knife, sending it up and out of reach. It was too far to be of use to either of them now but at least she’d managed to keep him from using it. They were hardly evenly matched as they were but it helped to tilt the scales just a little bit more in her favor.

Barely deterred by the loss of the dagger, her then brought his arm down on her shoulder. She barely managed to remain sitting but was too distracted by the pain to search the tides for his next move. He continued his lunge with both his hands extended. Before she could block, his hands were around her neck. Her hands scrambled at his, but could find no purchase against his gloves.

“Where is he?” the man finally spoke, grunting as he held her.

Some distant part of her brain commented on the stupidity of starting an interrogation while choking her, but the majority of her was focused more on staying alive.

She made no effort to answer him. Even if she did have full use of her respiratory system, she wouldn’t breathe a word about where Orm was to this brute.

His grip was of steel as she choked and gasped against his grip. She then made to claw at his face, but he was too tall and his arms too long for her to reach his eyes. Finally, her vision beginning to swim, she brought her knee up as hard as she could against his groin.

Finally, he faltered, wincing. It was enough for her use her other leg to kick one of his legs loose, knocking him to the ground beside her. Elara barely had time to catch her breath as the attacker fell. Winded and aching as she was, Elara held no illusion that she could knock him into the cave at this point, she just had to get away from him.

She turned over, crawling blindly forward before trying to stand. The man recovered quickly however and grabbed hold of her ankle, dragging her back down.

She tried to kick back behind her but he avoided it quickly enough and was soon upon her, shoving her onto her back roughly. And then he was on top of her, one arm crossed across her shoulders to keep her down and his knees restraining her legs, lest she try kicking again.

Her hands scrambled at his arm as he brought his free hand down on her injured side. She yelled in pain.

“Where is he?” The man repeated.

She responded by trying to punch him before he moved to hold both her hands down.

“Where is Aquaman?” he shouted, clearly frustrated.

That made Elara pause in confusion, croaking out, “Wait, what?”

The attacker never got a chance to elaborate as he was suddenly thrown off of her. And there was Orm, punching him squarely in the face.The man made to sucker punch Orm in the gut but Orm dodged it with ease. Elara’s sense of the tides was lessened by her weakened state but she could have sworn she detected a storm of rage radiating off of Orm.

Through a combination of fatigue from his bout with Elara and Orm’s strength of battle prowess, the attacker’s reactions were more sluggish, barely blocking or landing any hits against Orm.  He leaned back, looking like he was winding up for a strike but Orm beat him to the literal punch, landing a hit right in the man’s face.

Blood blossomed from the man’s nose and before he could recover, Orm hit him hard in the stomach, effectively winding him before landing another face punch. Elara could see the exact moment consciousness left the man, a second before he swayed and fell to the ground, unconscious.

Careful of her injuries, she sat up and just stared at Orm, some emotion she couldn’t name filling her. He turned slowly to look down at her, holding out a hand to help her up.

Taking his hand, she couldn’t stop her voice from cracking, both from feeling and pain as she said, “You came.”

He pulled her up swiftly and surely, the motion only straining her side slightly. Once standing, she didn’t think, she just stepped forward and hugged Orm. He tensed immediately in surprise but, as her arms wrapped around him, she could feel it as he relaxed into her before, hesitantly, he brought his arms up to return the embrace.

She wanted to ask if he’d heard her through the tides, wanted to say how scared she’d been, but instead she just whispered against his shoulder, “Thank you”

He tightened his hold on her just slightly as he said, “You’re welcome.”