✔ᵉⁿᵍˡⁱˢʰ for the Throne [Aquaman | Orm Marius]✔

12

Tradition. Customs. Nothing more than an event or happening that lasts for generations. Blood and games have always been part of such a tradition, whether in the upper world or the underworld. Archaic contests not unlike those of the ancient Romans. To life and death. Basically, however, it served only one purpose, for the pure pleasure of the masses. There were no reasons to justify such an event and make it a tradition.

Some may claim that the sum of our decisions determines our life.
In truth, it is not only our choices that determine who we are and who we will be one day, but it is the perseverance with which we stick to them. And it was no different for Orm. Not at all. The past is treacherous. Sometimes it is carved in stone and sometimes it is formed from sweet memories. But one thing can never be forgotten. If someone digs too long in the depths, who knows what monsters will be awakened.

"Interesting memories coming back up with this place," it was that of Orm's first fight where he emerged victorious and of course that Norvina had felt his whimsy in the aftermath, "Where's that golden armor from earlier? Let me guess, it only served to demonstrate your power to your brother."

"You have no business being here," Orm replied coolly, tightening his breastplate and while grasping the shoulder plate, glanced in the mirror wherein he saw Norvina leaning with her shoulder in the doorway arch watching him, "What do you want?"

"Kiss me," no sooner had Norvina spoken than Orm paused in his movement directly and for now, silence returned, making the crowd in the arena all the more audible, however, after a minute of silence, she began to chuckle, "What's the matter? You seem.... overwhelmed. I hope that doesn't carry over into your upcoming fight. Because it could turn out disastrously for you."

"Your sense of humor Norvina has always been of the questionable variety," it didn't stop Norvina from coming to Orm; sensibly applying his shoulder armor, just as she did then, and ended up interlocking her fingers in his neck, "Norvina.... what do you want? I don't need to tell you what...."

"The question is much more what you intend?" besides uniting the kingdoms and then starting a war against humans, "For being betrothed, much about you and your behavior is incomprehensible. You've never been easy, no secret...."

"Neither of us ever marries for love," a snort escaped Orm as he looked to the window hole before looking at Norvina, taking her face in his hands to kiss her, waiting and seeing her anew, "I don't have to tell you what you should have known long ago."

A king's reign rises and sets like the sun. One day it will set one last time with the one in office and rise again with a new one. That one will then take his place in the line of the old kings, and it will only be a matter of being a good ruler, a king.