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derwent_fTitle: A Ten Ton Catastrophe on a Sixty Pound Chain
Fandom: Aquaman (2018)
Pairing: Atlanna & Orm Marius
Rating: Teen and up audiences
Summary: They protect each other, while they can.
Warnings: domestic violence, child abuse, physical abuse
Notes: Title from "Jubilee Street" by Nick Cave and the Bad Seeds.
The first time Orvax hurt him, Orm was four.
Outside of formal occasions where he was expected to stand still and stay silent beside his parents’ thrones, Orm almost never saw his father. So when Orvax showed up unexpectedly in the nursery, he was beyond excited.
His nurse, an old woman who also nursed Atlanna when she was little, curtsied when Orvax came into the room, and was dismissed with a flick of his wrist. She left the door slightly ajar behind her. It wasn’t until later that Orm understood that she must’ve been standing outside, keeping watch over him.
Orm didn’t remember what he did to set off his father. Most likely, his only fault was to behave as a child was wont to do. Perhaps he tugged his father’s hand one time too many. Perhaps his exuberant babble got on his father’s nerve, who probably didn’t know how chatty Orm actually was.
Next thing he knew, his father held his arm in a vicious grip. He made a small, pained noise. The grip tightened.
“Father, it hurts,” he whimpered.
His father’s cold face loomed over him. Orm scrunched up his own face in fear. His arm hurt more by the seconds.
“Let him go.”
The voice was familiar, the tone wasn’t. He cracked open his eyes a little, and saw his mother standing in the doorway, wearing a terrible expression that Orm had never seen before on her beautiful face.
“Now.” It was an order.
His parents stood glaring at each other for a moment. Then Orvax pushed him away and was gone.
Orm fell down on his bottom. He opened his mouth and wailed. His mother was beside him in an instant.
“Hush, darling, let me see,” she took his arm gently. Purple bruises in the shape of his father’s fingers began to bloom along his little arm.
“Oh love,” she whispered, “Let me kiss it better, hmm?” and she began to leave small, soft kisses on his arm.
They made him feel better, far more than the ointment his nurse applied later.
*
His parents were fighting again.
Orm hid behind the door connecting his nursery and his mother’s sitting room. He didn’t understand what they were fighting about, only that the word ‘surface’ was thrown around a lot. What he understood, though, was the sheer enmity on their faces. It had been a long time since the days where his parents looked at each other with cold disinterest.
He was six now, but since that day in the nursery he knew that making himself scarce was the best course when it came to dealing with Orvax. He couldn’t leave his mother facing him alone, though.
“Fine,” his father said, taking a step back. “Maybe a week in the dungeon will return you to your senses, My Queen,” he spat out the last two words. On his command, his personal guard barrelled into the room and surrounded his mother, whose face paled with shock.
His heart fell. His nurse liked to threaten throwing him into the dungeon, but there was always a twinkle in her eyes that told Orm she was merely jesting. His father didn’t seem like he was kidding.
They stood there, like statues down in the garden, and Orm knew he had to do something, now, before they took Mother away. So he launched himself towards her, and wrapped his arms and legs around her legs.
“NO!” he screamed. “You’re not taking her away!”
One of the guards grabbed the back of his shirt and pulled hard. The shirt tore, the sound ricocheting through the room. He tightened his grip. They’d have to break his limbs before he’d let go of his mother.
He snuck a glance at his father. Fury contorted his face, but he could see the calculation in his eyes. Orm was his only heir, and at this point, it didn’t seem like Atlanna would ever give him another.
“I’ll let you go this time,” he hissed, and left the room, his guards following behind.
They stood frozen. When it became evident that the whole ordeal was over, he carefully unwrapped his arms and let go. Atlanna dropped down, body slack with relief. Orm scooted over to her side. It was her turn to wrap her arms around him.
“My brave little son,” she whispered, shaking fingers touching his eyes, his nose, his mouth.
They stayed like that, comforted by the silence.
Fandom: Aquaman (2018)
Pairing: Atlanna & Orm Marius
Rating: Teen and up audiences
Summary: They protect each other, while they can.
Warnings: domestic violence, child abuse, physical abuse
Notes: Title from "Jubilee Street" by Nick Cave and the Bad Seeds.
The first time Orvax hurt him, Orm was four.
Outside of formal occasions where he was expected to stand still and stay silent beside his parents’ thrones, Orm almost never saw his father. So when Orvax showed up unexpectedly in the nursery, he was beyond excited.
His nurse, an old woman who also nursed Atlanna when she was little, curtsied when Orvax came into the room, and was dismissed with a flick of his wrist. She left the door slightly ajar behind her. It wasn’t until later that Orm understood that she must’ve been standing outside, keeping watch over him.
Orm didn’t remember what he did to set off his father. Most likely, his only fault was to behave as a child was wont to do. Perhaps he tugged his father’s hand one time too many. Perhaps his exuberant babble got on his father’s nerve, who probably didn’t know how chatty Orm actually was.
Next thing he knew, his father held his arm in a vicious grip. He made a small, pained noise. The grip tightened.
“Father, it hurts,” he whimpered.
His father’s cold face loomed over him. Orm scrunched up his own face in fear. His arm hurt more by the seconds.
“Let him go.”
The voice was familiar, the tone wasn’t. He cracked open his eyes a little, and saw his mother standing in the doorway, wearing a terrible expression that Orm had never seen before on her beautiful face.
“Now.” It was an order.
His parents stood glaring at each other for a moment. Then Orvax pushed him away and was gone.
Orm fell down on his bottom. He opened his mouth and wailed. His mother was beside him in an instant.
“Hush, darling, let me see,” she took his arm gently. Purple bruises in the shape of his father’s fingers began to bloom along his little arm.
“Oh love,” she whispered, “Let me kiss it better, hmm?” and she began to leave small, soft kisses on his arm.
They made him feel better, far more than the ointment his nurse applied later.
*
His parents were fighting again.
Orm hid behind the door connecting his nursery and his mother’s sitting room. He didn’t understand what they were fighting about, only that the word ‘surface’ was thrown around a lot. What he understood, though, was the sheer enmity on their faces. It had been a long time since the days where his parents looked at each other with cold disinterest.
He was six now, but since that day in the nursery he knew that making himself scarce was the best course when it came to dealing with Orvax. He couldn’t leave his mother facing him alone, though.
“Fine,” his father said, taking a step back. “Maybe a week in the dungeon will return you to your senses, My Queen,” he spat out the last two words. On his command, his personal guard barrelled into the room and surrounded his mother, whose face paled with shock.
His heart fell. His nurse liked to threaten throwing him into the dungeon, but there was always a twinkle in her eyes that told Orm she was merely jesting. His father didn’t seem like he was kidding.
They stood there, like statues down in the garden, and Orm knew he had to do something, now, before they took Mother away. So he launched himself towards her, and wrapped his arms and legs around her legs.
“NO!” he screamed. “You’re not taking her away!”
One of the guards grabbed the back of his shirt and pulled hard. The shirt tore, the sound ricocheting through the room. He tightened his grip. They’d have to break his limbs before he’d let go of his mother.
He snuck a glance at his father. Fury contorted his face, but he could see the calculation in his eyes. Orm was his only heir, and at this point, it didn’t seem like Atlanna would ever give him another.
“I’ll let you go this time,” he hissed, and left the room, his guards following behind.
They stood frozen. When it became evident that the whole ordeal was over, he carefully unwrapped his arms and let go. Atlanna dropped down, body slack with relief. Orm scooted over to her side. It was her turn to wrap her arms around him.
“My brave little son,” she whispered, shaking fingers touching his eyes, his nose, his mouth.
They stayed like that, comforted by the silence.
