Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Chapter 11: Bottoms Up

Song List:
Animal by Ellie Goulding
Do I Wanna Know by Arctic Monkeys
Sober by Niykee Heaton

“Is that so?” He asked, smirking down at her with the cool assurance of the King he had once been.

Reyna did not know what had possessed her to bait him so. But she knew it had something to do with his growing familiarity….

When he wasn’t scowling at her family, plotting Arthur’s demise, or harboring ill will toward her people…Orm was—charming.

But that wasn’t the problem. No. The problem was Orm /knew/ he was charming, and he seemed to be weaponizing that charm against her now purposefully and with greater frequency. What she once saw as progress now seemed suspicious. Yes, Orm knew he was charming. He also knew he was handsome, and he possessed a powerful confidence, no doubt, thanks to his palace upbringing. But the kicker? Not only was he outwardly alluring, but he was also ruthless, cunning, and manipulative. Possessing a political savvy she could neither begin to grasp nor hope to maneuver, and for some reason—she had the feeling he was attempting to use those carefully cultivated gambits against /her/.

She hadn’t seen it at first, how all too forthcoming his progress had been, until his move at the lake. It was too brazen, even for him. It had instantly tipped her off that something was amiss—his proximity pinging her intuition, birthing an inkling of supposition that had since grown. She didn’t know what he was plotting, but Orm Marius was certainly up to something nefarious, which meant Reyna was in way over her head. Fear of drowning aside, it was a precarious position to be in for sure….

She stepped back while he stalked forward, playing mind games with an opponent well out of her league. The wine was already buzzing in her head. Maybe that had been a mistake….

Without taking his eyes off hers, he reached forward and pulled the glass from her palm, slowly bringing it to his lips. He took a careful swig, savoring the taste as he finally peeled his gaze from hers to survey the light liquid.

“I rather like these dry aperitifs you seem to favor.” He mused, the corner of his lip quirking in a shameless smirk.

Reyna felt goosebumps erupt across her skin, and she shivered despite herself. “What are you doing?” She stammered, her back pressing against the wall with one final step.

Trapped.

This.

/This/ was why she was so irritated with him. What was his game? What was he playing at? Their encounter at the lake had left her unsettled, forcing her to look at all their recent interactions under a microscope. Yes, she had been attempting to win him. But his actions were far too—forward. They didn’t make any sense. He was so far above her…there was no reason for him to….

“You have selected our excursions every evening in recent days.” He observed, leering down at her with a mischievous glint in his eyes. “I believe I have earned the right to claim one for myself.”

Reyna blushed, feeling small and vulnerable under his smoldering gaze. She wasn’t a politician or a spy; she was no good at hiding her true intentions, as he was, and so, she was equally as inapt to understand his motives. “What exactly do you have in mind?” She asked quietly. Helpless but to play along.

——

She was reluctant—again.

He’d pushed too far. He could sense it. Yet, still, they hadn’t gone far enough….he needed her to move with him because she wanted to, not because he was forcing her to. Fortunately, he had some idea of how to accomplish this feat. Reyna was kind, naive, and compassionate. To sway her, he would have to manipulate the truth.

He softened his brow, changing tactics. “I want to relax, Reyna.” He revealed, playing on her sympathy. “I thought you might understand that.”

Game. Set…

He handed the glass back to her and turned away, acting crestfallen. “You alone are kind to me here. I apologize for assuming too much of you…”

Match.

“Wait!”

He paused, smiling slightly to himself.

/So gullible, little nymph./

Slowly, he turned to face her once again.

“What did you have in mind?” She asked, nibbling her lip and taking a tentative step forward.

“A game,” He answered cooly, despite the betrayal of his eyes as they lingered on that lip. “Of truths and lies.”

She crossed her arms, shaking her head slightly. “A drinking game.” Her dark hair haloed her petulant face as she pursed her lips disapprovingly.

“It is a common pass time, Reyna, for both your people and mine.” He countered.

“I’m familiar with the concept.” She informed him.

“Good…”

“And you’re in luck,” She added shrewdly. “I actually have the game!”

“You /what/?”

“I’ll be right back!” She called as she scampered out of the room.

This was unexpected….

He frowned as she returned, sporting a small pink box.

“Sit down, I’ll get the wine and whip up a quick charcuterie board.”

Orm blinked, taken aback. Had he just lost control….?

——

She might not know what he was up to, but she could certainly derail him. That was for sure.

Reyna worked quickly, pouring Orm a hearty cup of wine, choosing a glass with a deep barrel to be misleading in its contents. She then selected a flute for herself, one that was the same height but slender, more demure. For each drink he finished, she would finish one-third—and she had to pace herself. That was integral.

It was a difficult scheme. Orm was nothing like Arthur or Tom Curry, who chugged their beer as eagerly as a baby with a bottle. He had his wits about him, a shark in the water, out for blood. And he’d set his sights upon her, the weak link. That /had/ to be it.

/Weak link. Well, we’ll see about that, won’t we? Your move, your highness./

She set the glasses on the kitchen table, quickly following with a board of assorted meats, cheeses, and crackers. Slowly, Orm pulled out a chair, observing the selection with a skeptical look, but he didn’t ask any further questions.

A moment later, Reyna joined him, taking one last theatrical swig from the bottle without swallowing a single drop before setting it between them. From the corner of her eye, she noted Orm’s smug look of satisfaction from across the table. Oh, she was definitely in way over her head. And to make things worse, it looked like now she was swimming with a shark too—all the more reason to keep her wits about her.

“So, how does your game go?” She asked, batting her lashes and resting her chin on her palm, playing the part. Attempting to look vulnerable and under the influence. Easy quarry. Orm took her for a fool. Well, she’d give him a fool…

“I will tell you two lies and one truth. You must guess which of the statements is true. If you guess correctly, I drink, and the turn passes to you. If you guess incorrectly, you drink, and I decide whether the turn belongs in my arena or passes to yours….”

“Ugh, boring.”

Orm glared, no doubt perturbed by her impertinence.

“I’m not interested in lies. Besides, I’m not very good at rooting them out. So it would be a short game, one you would win. And I’d be quite sloshed by the end.” She revealed. “A game is no fun if you know what the outcome will be. There has to be some sport involved—an equal playing field.”

Orm’s expression of distaste shifted into one of intrigue. “Go on….”

Reyna pushed the deck of cards forward. “We’ll use these for inspiration, but you may come up with questions on your own if you’d like. The game is simple. You ask me a question. I am bound to answer truthfully, or I drink—vice versa.” Tricky, as the game itself instilled one to tell the truth either way, unless the answer was extremely sensitive. The more you chose not to divulge, the more intoxicated you became and the more likely you were to spill your secrets. But Reyna wasn’t worried. She had little to hide.

“Hmm, all right. I concede to your terms.”

——

/Clever little nymph./

Orm found himself pleased with this development. It was less work than his ploy, and she was already under the sway of her drink. The truths would spill from her lips like waterfalls of a most refreshing clarity. He relished his yet unsung victory, soon to be savored like the wine in his cup. Tonight, he would captain this unwitting siren, steering her to more fruitful shores for the both of them…..

“I’ll go first.” Reyna glanced up at the ceiling, rapping her fingers against her chin. “Oh, I’ve got one.” She smiled wickedly, her green eyes glinting in the light of her tiny kitchen’s meager chandelier. “Was there ever a time you did not feel hatred toward Arthur?”

Orm stiffened as she struck a nerve. He glared at Reyna anew, grasping the wine goblet and taking a large gulp of the dry liquid.

“Hmm, interesting. Well then, your turn….”

Stella padded into the room, slipping under the table to lay at their feet. As Orm rubbed his chin, considering his first move….

Orm was strategic in his questioning. First, he asked her simple things. Trifling facts about her person, slowly but steadily working his way up to more intimate questions. Reyna, on the other hand, was anything but subtle. She dove into the deep end, asking him the most scandalous questions imaginable, sometimes coming up with them on her own and other times pulling cards from the little box she sported for inspiration. More and more often, he found himself swilling wine to avoid offering her a tidbit of truth, and Reyna, the diligent little attendant, was all too eager to fill his glass each time he’d emptied it, all the while sipping away at her own beverage, though she had yet to withhold an answer from him.

As they sparred, Orm’s head began to buzz as Reyna switched their beverage of choice to whiskey. It was smooth and fiery, unlike anything he had ever had in Atlantis. It left him feeling warm and pliant….extremely relaxed in a way he had not felt in…well, ever.

“It is your turn, little nymph.” He purred, leaning back in his chair and gripping the glass of golden liquid in his palm.

“Okay, okay…” She sat up straighter, giggling slightly as she reached for another card. As she flipped it over, she covered her mouth, gasping softly. “Oh no, this is a good one.” She bit her lip, giggling once more. “To whom did you lose your virginity too, and how do they rate on a scale of one to ten?” She asked, smiling and batting her eyelashes up at him, wriggling her hips in excitement.

Orm slanted his brow as he surveyed the flagrant display of wanton behavior. Did she even know what she was doing? Likely not.

“A most scandalous question for a King, but I must say, if anyone were to have an interesting answer to this question, it would probably be you.” She flirted, grasping the bottle and taking a swig of the liquor. Her little glass had been empty for some time. While he had poured the liquor into his cup, she’d abandoned hers. Choosing instead to drink straight from the source, like a common…

He shook his head, attempting to rid himself of the haze that permeated his mind. “I hate to disappoint you, little nymph, but it was rather ceremonial. At the age of fifteen, I was gifted my first inconsequential.”
“Inconsequential?” Reyna asked, looking confused.

“I believe the term in your world is whore?”

“Oh,” She blinked, shocked. “Oh, well, okay.” She took another swig, glancing away, seeming embarrassed.

“She was quite comely and very skilled. Nearly ten years my senior. It was pleasurable.” He informed her. “This ranking, I am unsure of…”

“Uh, one being bad, ten being…well…exquisite…”

“Hmm,” He considered, rubbing his jaw. There was stubble. How unusual. He’d never allowed himself to be so unkempt before. “I shall say a six. As I did not know what I was doing, and so, it all felt very foreign and unusual.”

“Fair,” Reyna commented, pouring more whiskey into his glass.

It was his turn again. The moment he was waiting for, in which he would finally breach the topic of Atlantis and…

“Mine was when I was seventeen and…”

“What?” His gaze snapped up to her face, shocked. She—she was answering her own question? And she wasn’t….“You—you aren’t chaste?”

“Uh, no.” She looked at him as though he were insane. “Anyway, his name was Roran, he was my first boyfriend. We were in high school together. I was,” She bit her lip again, considering her words.

/-First- boyfriend?/

Orm nearly shattered the glass in his hand.

“Let’s just say, pent up. Roran was verrrry handsome and extraordinarily good with his….” Her eyes met his, and she closed her mouth as she took in his visage. “Hm, too much information. Um, I would say an eight.”

“An eight.” He repeated dumbly.

“Mhmm,” She nodded, reaching for the bottle once again.

Thunder boomed outside, and Stella whined nervously, looking up as rain began to tap against the window panes.

“Your turn…”

“How many men have you been with?” He asked all too quickly.

“Five.”

“Five!” He exclaimed, raking a hand through his hair. She hadn’t even tried to hide it. Hadn’t even considered taking a drink. She wasn’t ashamed….

“This surprises you,” She observed rather insightfully.

“You may not be a blood relative of Arthur Curry, but you are linked, rather unconventionally, to the throne, nonetheless. You should take care how you handle yourself in the future.” He scolded, feeling the burning influence of the whiskey all the more acutely now.

“Now you are chastising me.” She declared.

“Well, someone ought to reprimand you for your carelessness.” He remarked bitterly.

“It’s my turn.” Reyna snapped, her jovial demeanor disintegrating in a flash.

Orm stopped short, surprised by the clarity of her conviction.

“Tell me, Ocean Master, how naive do you think I am?” She leaned across the table, glaring at him. “Did you really think I’d fall for this act of jealousy? You have to admit, you’re laying it on rather thick. Seems you’re not as good of an actor as you really think.”

Orm blinked.

Reyna wasn’t intoxicated—and she thought he was jealous? He wasn’t jealous…

“At first, I thought we were actually getting through to you. I thought you were learning to see things differently, perhaps even wanting to see things differently. But you were just using me to get closer to Arthur.”

“Were you not using me?” He argued, rising from his chair and planting his fists on the wooden table.

She had duped him. /Played him./

“Were you not trying to manipulate me to see things their way, all the while full of doubt? I do not think you are naive, Reyna. You are the only land dweller I have met who harbors some semblance of sense. I only wish you would release yourself of the hypocritical role of house pet you have allowed them to assign you. You see the truth! As I do.” He declared, seething with rage.

Reyna’s passion dissipated, and the rosy tint in her cheeks paled as she stared up at him, looking defeated. “You don’t know me.” She whispered.

Her voice was calm. Sure. Unsettlingly quiet against his temper. And for the first time in his life, he did not have a rebuttal.

“I think it’s best you return to the Curry residence after tonight.” She informed him, rising from her chair and heading somberly toward the door.

“Reyna,” He reached for her, but she held up her hand to stop him.

“You have made your position quite clear. There is no need to continue this conversation.”

Orm dropped his hand.

What had just happened?

She’d thought he was jealous—she could not have been more wrong. He could never be jealous of….

He clenched his fists. No. She was nothing. As inconsequential as the first whore he had lain with.

He launched up from the table and retreated. Slamming the door to the pretty little prison she had offered him.