The smile that flickers on a baby's lips when they're sleeping was perhaps one of the most beautiful things that the world had to offer. There was a legend in Atlantis that a young pale beam of a crescent moon touched the edge of a vanishing autumn cloud, and that was where the first infant's smile was born; in the dream of a dew-washed morning. Upon seeing it for herself, Camille was almost inclined to believe the legend. Truly, nothing else could compare to a sight so pure...well, nothing but the image of a small purple squid snuggling into the baby's arm.

Inky hadn't left Kasalus' side ever since the first moment they met, almost two weeks ago now. They were inseparable...and, somehow, Camille got the feeling that Kasalus understood the squid's attachment because he was never even the least bit alarmed by it. In fact, whenever he started to cry, Inky only had to float near him and Kasalus would grow utterly silent; like they were communicating in their own, unspoken language. It was too early to assume that this meant he had inherited his father's ability to speak with sea life...but Camille found it difficult to disregard the possibility entirely.

Take now, for example. Camille was sitting with the council and her husband, Kasalus nestled securely in her arms, and Inky bobbing right beside her as if he were guarding them both. It was odd behaviour for him. Inky used to be so easily frightened...but now he looked like he'd charge at anyone that came too close. Not that it would be threatening in any regard. He was so small that it was doubtful that he could inflict actual damage.

Camille was grateful for his protectiveness. It helped her sleep a little easier knowing that someone was always watching over him even when she couldn't.

"The hunting grounds are producing even less fish than ever." Klem-Klem announced with a sense of foreboding. "Soon enough there'll be none left, and we'll have to venture further out. To the high risk zones."

"That's not an option." Arthur declared despite his dread at the news. "We'll not put Atlantean lives, or treaties with the other cities, at risk for a few loads of fish."

"Then what will we eat?" Shr'or responded urgently. This was a time sensitive matter. If they didn't figure something out within the year, then they'd surely suffer for it.

Silence drifted from one person to the next, until finally it was too thick for Camille to handle. She straightened up and rolled her shoulders, ensuring that she didn't wake her son in the process. "Why don't you build a few farms?"

It sounded like a simple solution to her, but the council members all seemed confused by the word. As if they'd never heard it before, and were unaware of its meaning. Arthur was the only one that reacted, and he was the only one that needed to. After a handful of seconds a grin had stretched across his face; so wide that she could see every pearly white tooth. "That's...brilliant. You're brilliant!"

Camille appreciates the compliment, but didn't really think that she deserved it. Building farms around the city was an obvious solution to her...so obvious that she struggled to comprehend how Arthur hadn't suggested it before.

"I do not understand. What is a farm?" Klem-Klem enquired with great confusion.

"It's a cut off area of land used for growing crops and rearing animals." Camille answered as if it were the most basic information that anyone could possess. "Basically you get a bunch of fish into one place, seal them in so they can't move to another section of the ocean, and breed them until you have a sustainable amount. If you keep the farm going at a consistent pace you'll always have enough food for the city, but without the pain of hunting for them. You can do something similar with whatever weird sea-vegetables you have around here."

The council members exchanged looks of absolute amazement. They had never considered such a thing before, and so to them, the concept sounded ingenious. "We should start retraining the hunters right away!" Shr'or insisted.

"No, keep the hunters." Camille interrupted. "They can collect the more exotic stuff. You know, whatever else it is you eat besides fish."

Camille could guess the other animals they served on her plate, but she preferred not to know. She felt a little less guilty that way. If they were cooking up a massive plate of whale meat, then Camille didn't want to know about it. At all.

"Then who will run the farms?" Shr'or asked, his crab claw falling limply at his side.

"There are many unemployed people living in Old Atlantis. Train them to work on the farms."

This proposal appeared to insult most of the council. The people of Old Atlantis were unemployed for a reason. They came from poor families that were deemed unworthy of serving the city, many were even the descendants of criminals and their families had lost the privilege of working for a comfortable living.

"Is there a problem?" Camille asked with a tone that dared them to question her decision. Unfortunately, Klem-Klem did.

"They haven't earned the right to a job, my queen."

"How can they earn the right when you won't let them?" Camille scoffed. She was swiftly becoming fed up with Atlantis' rules, and the hatred they caused. "You're lucky in Atlantis. You don't have things like addiction holding people back; no drugs, no alcohol, no gambling. Just the people in charge. They're the only ones determining that those families starve."

Klem-Klem didn't understand half of what she was trying to say. The concept of drugs or alcohol (much to Arthur's dismay) wasn't one that they had ever indulged in.

Camille rolled her eyes. "They're starving down there, and none of them deserve it. That's what I'm trying to say. You will train them and give them a chance to feed their families. That's an order."

The council glanced over at Arthur as if the king might assist their argument, but he simply crossed his arms proudly and nodded at his wife. He had always been too cautious about changing things in Atlantis. He wanted to improve things, but knew that to initiate such a drastic shift in values might distress the population. Camille, however, kicked that vigilance straight down. She knew that, no matter how careful you are, there would always be people that fought against change. Nowadays Arthur liked nothing more than to witness her at work; reshaping the city and dragging it from the darkness that had always plagued it. There could have been no better pick for a queen, or no finer woman for a bride.

"You heard your queen." Arthur smiled at the unease that flashed across their faces. "The problem's solved. What's the next issue?"

Shr'or grumbled but glanced down at his notes. As his eyes scanned the etchings, a loud and shrill cry pierced his ears. The man cringed at the noise and glared at the child held in the queens arms. He didn't understand why she felt the need to bring a baby to these meetings. No matter how many times they asked, she absolutely refused to leave him with a carer.

Inky had swam around his head a few times in an effort to calm the infant, but to no avail. Camille patted the squids head softly to praise him for trying, then shifted on her seat to rock Kasalus back and forth. When his crying still didn't cease, Camille adjusted her dress to breastfeed him without hesitation. Kasalus immediately quietened down, only the smallest hum escaping his throat every so often.

It wasn't surprising to see the council avert their eyes from the indecency. Everything Camille did upset them one way or another. She was growing so used to it now that she barely noticed at all.

"Your majesty, could you not move to another room?" One of the younger members mumbled with embarrassment.

"Why?" Was Camille's simple question, though she was sure she already knew what their answer would be.

"This is a public place." Shr'or tried to explain though his voice was strained by the horror he felt. "And you're a married woman. A queen. You shouldn't be allowing other men to see you like that."

"My son's hungry." Camille said lowly, with the kind of force that could tear the fangs off a bear. "You want me to let him starve while I move to a private room?"

"Surely it wouldn't take too long-"

"My wife is feeding your future king." Arthur growled, and they all jumped at the sound. "Show some respect."

"Y-Yes, your highness." They all squeaked in unison and the married couple exchanged amused smirks.

The meeting continued without any more particularly irritating comments from the council. Arthur had scared them into silence, and once they had concluded the meeting, they had all but rushed out of the room as if to escape the uncomfortable atmosphere.

"What a bunch of morons." Mera's voice lingerie from the back. She had been on guard duty, and as was her job during serious meetings, she had remained silent until now. "Breastfeeding's a natural part of motherhood."

Camille shrugged, unbothered by their words. She wasn't going to allow herself to be embarrassed just because they were. Especially when it came to feeding her child.

Once Kasalus had pulled his mouth away, signalling that he was finished drinking, Camille covered herself again. The infant was drowsily falling back to sleep when Mera held her arms out eagerly. "Okay, Auntie Mera's turn."

She was one of the few people that Camille truly trusted with Kasalus, and so Camille didn't hesitate to rest the tired baby into her arms. Mera, admittedly, did this to grant Camille and Arthur some spare time...but also because she completely adored the child. She acted almost like a second mother to him.

Camille pouted as Mera left the room with Kasalus (Inky following closely behind). She often longed for alone time, but once Camille received it she could do nothing but worry about her son; was he hungry again? What if he caught something while she wasn't there? What if he got hurt?

Arthur's hand against her arm was a welcome outer force; calming her down enough to glance over at him. Arthur had a mischievous glint in his eye and a devilish smile on his face. "Now that we're alone-"

"What? Here?!" Camille's breathe would have hitched if she still used her lungs. "No way. I'm not getting pregnant again...and I'm still recovering from giving birth to your son."

Arthur chuckled at her stubbornness, leaning forward to place a rough kiss against her collarbone. "But you were so sexy bossing everyone around."

Camille felt like she might melt; vanishing and mixing with the ocean until she was at Arthur's mercy. It might have happened if she hadn't found the strength to pull herself away. "Nope. Not happening. Not here."

Arthur grinned widely, following her to the other side of the room and wrapping his arms around her waist. "Tonight then?"

Camille tried not to look at him, knowing that he would notice how flustered she had suddenly become. "If you're lucky."

She could practically imagine Arthur's satisfaction at hearing her entertain the idea. It had been a while since they were last intimate, and Arthur was one day away from losing his mind. "And tomorrow?"

Camille tried to contain the laughter that his eagerness forced through her throat. At the muffled sound, Arthur aggressively pulled her hips closer to his. Camille swallowed the excitement that this gesture sparked, with little success. "Don't we have that Justice League thing tomorrow?"

There was a few passing seconds of complete silence, then Arthur began to grumble crankily. Camille's lips twitched into a smile at his annoyance. Arthur had been the one that planned the event, primarily to dull the questions bombarded on him whenever he entered the Hall Of Justice. Clark, Diana, and even Barry had been asking about his son constantly. He was the first member to enter parenthood, so naturally, it was the foremost topic of discussion.

As a direct result, Arthur had invited them all to his father's old lighthouse in Amnesty Bay to meet his wife and son. He was starting to regret it now...he would have much preferred to just stay at the castle with Camille all day. And all night. Maybe even for the next few weeks.