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Chapter Text

“Keep me instead”

Three words, innocently spoken, without hesitation, altered the trajectory of their collective fate.

Namor stared intently at the Princess, searching her eyes for the slightest trace of guile, finding only sincerity and earnestness instead. His brows furrow slightly. He is not used to such altruism from surface dwellers. But , the Princess was no ordinary surface dweller.

He was annoyed when his general informed him that the Wakandan heir had requested to be brought to Talokan, but he was intrigued and honestly, not too mad that a bargaining chip so valuable had willingly fallen into his lap. He did not enjoy complications . He dispatched them quickly and often bluntly if that was the fastest way, but the Queen’s daughter , standing in his abode , gazing at him openly but with determination, was quite a pleasant complication. His eyes took in her frame leisurely, a ghost of a smirk on his lips. A pleasant complication indeed.

“As you wish Princess,” he finally replied.

Shuri breathed a sigh of relief , the tension in her shoulders dissipating. She had bought her and Riri some time.

“Wakanda will take responsibly for the scientist. I promise you she will not fall into the hands of the Americans and we will keep your existence a secret. I swear it.”

The god-king tilted his head with a raised brow. Shuri licked her lips nervously, but pressed forward.

“The scientist is a victim of the greed of the American government. She is a member of the lost tribe and for generations her people have been pillaged and exploited. This is no different. She is guilty of nothing other than being gifted, like myself. Unlike me she had no royal protection and was thus vulnerable. I take responsibility for her and offer my life for hers. I will remain here and offer my knowledge and skills to ensure that your borders are protected and your vibranium secure. I ask for the opportunity to right the wrongs ignorantly done.”

Namor considered her from lowered lids. He raised his chin slightly , gazing down at her , crossing hands in front of him.

The two royals made quite a picture, bathed in the azure bioluminescent light of his hut, standing in front of large murals on walls. On the other side was his worktable, decorated with scroll-like parchment, paint brushes and half shells with pigments, an ornate shell with a jade and pearl bracelet laid upon it. The intermittent drops of water in the caverns served as the soundtrack to their informal but tense negotiations.

Shuri waited with bated breath for Namor’s acceptance of her offer. Or his denial. She winced internally. She wasn’t meant to be in the thick of political negotiations. That was always meant for her brother. Her chest twisted around a void painfully at the thought of T’Challa. He would have known the right words to say, the correct expressions to display to engender trust and cooperation from anyone he wanted. She was blunt and rebellious, annoyed with the veiled language required in politics, her impatience driving her to the straightest line between two points, seeing no purpose in the beating around bush. But in this moment too much hung in the balance for her to sledgehammer her way through to this obstacle. It required finesse and confidence.

‘You can do this Shuri. You have to do this.’

“ My King,” she tried again, “ I am the crown princess of Wakanda. My word, my oaths here today do not stand without weight. They will be honored by the Throne. I will ensure the safety of your people and your resources.” She squared her shoulders and prayed she looked as assured and regal as her mother. She met his gaze unwaveringly, noting how his chestnut eyes were more soulful than she had previously observed.

“How can you guarantee that Princess?”, Namor said quietly , brows raised slightly in challenge.

Shuri huffed slightly, a small smug smile graced her lips. “ I can guarantee that,” she took a step towards him , confidently, earning her an almost imperceptible look of surprise from the ocean king as he assessed her shift in demeanor, “ because I am the Chief of Wakanda’s Design Group, head of all the technological advancements of my nation, I invented our current national security system, warcrafts, weaponry and ammunition for Royal army and navy and Dora Milaje. I oversee the mining of vibranium and have been doing so for close to ten years. I have fought two wars , one defending Wakanda and the other defending Earth against enemies from worlds beyond our stars. The Americans are nothing compared to the adversaries I have defeated. There is no one more capable of ensuring your security against them than I. “

Shuri took another step forward , determined to drive her point home. To make him see.

“I say this without arrogance, but with certainty. When I offer you myself , I offer the best mind Wakanda has to offer. One may even argue, the best mind the world has to offer.”

She let her words hang between them, hoping that they sink in. She was no expert at politics, but in her ability to invent solutions, she was certain. The king was studying her, weighing her, dissecting her and she knew it. She did not shy away from his assessment of her, she opened herself to it, praying to Bast he found nothing but solid material in her. A common ground that he could place his trust.

“I do not think you say that completely without arrogance Princess,” the corners of his mouth lifting, the twinkle in his eyes daring her to deny it.

Shuri shrugged her one bare shoulder. “Maybe a little,” she conceded honestly, a mischeivious twist to her lips.

Namor chuckled softly, and gestured towards her as he spoke , “I have no doubts in your intellect, Princess. My lack of trust ,” his expression grew serious, “ is in the surface. I have lived a long time and the story has always been the same. The greed of the surface dwellers is insatiable, and they will not stop. How do I know you are not the same?”

Shuri was taken aback, offended. “ We have no need for your vibranium! We have our own!”

“That may be so, but the world is greedy for what we have. How do I know you do not plan to direct the Americans our way, to feed their hunger, keeping your resource safe?” he needled , stepping forward closing the space between them.

“It would not be in our best interest to have other nations access vibranium. It has always been our policy to never trade vibranium with anyone under any circumstance. We are not blind to the evil designs they have on it. Do you think we don’t know the first thing they would do is neutralize Wakanda? To believe what you propose would require a simultaneous belief that we are incredibly foolish, and quite honestly I am struggling to not feel insulted.” Her eyes blazing under furrowed brows, fists clenched at her sides.

Namor sniffed, looking… satisfied? Shuri narrowed her eyes.

‘He’s testing me,’ realization dawning. ‘Bring it on fish- man’ She unclenched her fists, schooling her face into a neutral expression.

“I’m glad we are on the same page then, regarding the intentions of the surface dwellers. I cannot trust you if you are eager to partner with those who seek to destroy us and would not think twice to do so, all to gain what is rightfully ours. My people deserve peace of mind and safety. And I will give my last breath to provide that.”

Shuri gave a small nod placing a slender hand over her heart, “And I would do the same, have done the same, for my people. And I do it again now, offering myself, in exchange for –“

“A surface dweller,” Namor sneered, cutting her off.

“ An innocent, a descendant of people who were stolen from my continent, who has been used, just like her ancestors before her. I seek to right an ancient wrong and if I can save her, take her to Wakanda where she can thrive safely, it is a small step towards atoning for the sins of my fathers, who chose to do nothing while those around them suffered unspeakable violence.”

With a troubled expression she continued, her voice soft, but urgent, “ You would give your last breath to protect and save your people. I promise you, that I, Shuri, daughter of Queen Ramonda, Crown Princess of Wakanda, I will give my life to keep my people and yours safe. In my eyes those two things hold the same weight, carry the same meaning now. If your people are not safe, neither are my own.”

She stared at him, openly, urging him to see her reasoning.

He remained silent, expression unreadable.

‘Bast help me , please do not let me strangle this stubborn sea pigeon!’

Shuri sighed and turned her attention to the worktable in the near them, taking in the paints scattered on it. Then turned her attention to the murals on the wall.

“ Did you paint these?”, she gestured to the large works of art covering almost every inch of the wall of his dwelling.

“I did”

“Your work is quite intricate. It is exquisite really.” She said taking in the scenes depicted on the walls ending her gaze on him.

That sparkle was back in his eyes, barely, but she caught it.

“I appreciate the compliment, Princess.”

Her gaze fell to the bracelet resting on the shell on the table.

He noticed her looking and raised it to her for a better look.

“Has it caught your eye?” he handed her the jade bracelet

Shuri ran her fingers over it delicately, taking in the craftsmanship, gingerly touching the engraved jade in the center of the piece.

“This is a Mesoamerican artifact. Fifteenth century most likely. It is beautiful,” she said, staring at it in awe

Namor’s brow shot up in surprise. “You are correct, Princess.” Perhaps she was right about being the best mind of Wakanda. She handed him back the bracelet with great care. He took it from her and set it back on the shell. “It belonged to my mother.”

It was Shuri’s turn to be surprised. “Your mother…meaning you’ve been alive since…?”

“Yes Princess,” he chuckled, “I have lived through five centuries. I have seen era after era of man. And the outcomes are always the same, eventually. Their actions are predictable. Forgive me if I have less faith in surface dwellers than you do. You will see soon enough that they do not deserve the mercy you are quick to give,’’ he spat the last sentence, disgusted.

“ You see it was their greed that forced my people to leave the surface, their hunger for what was not theirs that drove the creation of Talokan.”

He tells her of how his people were forced to leave their home because of the disease brought from conquistadors, about the shaman who received a vision from Chaac, the plant that gave them the ability to breathe underwater.

‘Just like the vision Bast gave to Bashenga,” Shuri thought , drawing the parallels between their history.

She listened intently as he told her of his mother’s longing for the land of her birth, her request to be buried there and the horror of witnessing his people in chains, shackled like beast as they were treated as worst at the hands of the colonizers. He tells her of a priest who cursed him as “el nino sin amor” birthing his namesake. He laughs bitterly.

Shuri’s heart broke for him, that child who had to see the terrible things she only read about in books. To carry those memories in his heart. She was growing to understand his vehement resistance in finding any redeeming qualities within surface dwellers. She could feel his fear, his almost maniacal zeal for the safety of his people and why he had an all or nothing, uncompromising world view. That was all he knew. That was all the world had allowed him to know.

She didn’t realize she had reached out to touch him until he stopped speaking and looked down at her hand squeezing his wrist. Their eyes locked as he covered her hand with his other untouched hand, trapping hers in the heat practically radiating off his skin. Shuri’s breath hitched in her throat, a shiver travelled up her spine as she stood there, transfixed. She let out a small gasp as he gripped her hand and pulled her closer. She licked her lips nervously, and saw his eyes briefly leave hers follow the path of her tongue. When he met her eyes again her breath quickened as she read the hunger in there now. His grip on her hand grew stronger and his thumb stroked her knuckles slowly. An innocent enough motion but it sent chills up her spine. The air around them seemed to pulsate with an energy that she could not label. There was an invisible chord that was forming, tethering these two beings together and if they were not careful, if they let it continue, they would both be powerless to sever it.

Namor gazed into eyes ,the most delicious shade of molasses, getting lost in them but not minding on bit. He felt her sincerity and empathy while telling her his story, of how he came to be. She made him feel… seen. He felt understood, perceived not as a god or a king, but as a man, a person just like her. He could sense that she felt his emotions as real as her own; she stood with him inside the pain and ugliness of his history and never flinched nor faltered, but simply allowed herself to be present… with him.
The moment she reached for him, an authentic gesture of comfort and support, it awakened something in him that he thought died long ago and there was no burying it. He knew it , as soon as it flared inside him. This was irreversible, this force, this flame, whatever it was and it was snaking its way into his veins. Not since his mother had anyone given him the space or opportunity to simply exist and witness his existence without growing weary of the weight of all that he was but simply bearing witness to him and embracing him. He would not let her know just yet but in that moment the young princess had done more to convince him that any words she had spoken previously.

She licked her lips again and he felt the fangs of jealousy snarl and gnash in chest, wishing it was his tongue tasting her lips instead. His skin burned where her fingers rested on his skin and he wanted it to burn deeper, further, he wanted her to sear his skin so that he was branded forever with her touch. Fire. She was fire incarnate. A sick part of his brain wanted her to boil him alive.

He huffed at the thought. He couldn’t lose himself , not with conquistador sniffing at his door. His people were in jeopardy and he needed to keep them safe once and for all. In the Princess, in Wakanda, maybe he could find a worthy ally after all to eliminate all threats, present and future. Maybe , they could forge a future he previously thought impossible for himself, one where he could live, not just watch and prepare in perpetuity for potential danger, but truly live. Maybe…

“I accept your offer to remain here Princess. I will spare the life of the scientist for now.”

Shuri closed her eyes and exhaled, thanking Bast. At least, she did not fail Riri. She had succeeded at keeping her alive, for now. She decided to press her luck.

“And what of releasing her into the custody of Wakanda, while I remain here? I promise you my mother will honor the agreements we make here.”

His eyes narrowed as he released her hand and turned away from her , linking his hands behind his back, considering the murals on his wall.

“While I think you noble to offer yourself for a surface dweller, I do not know if I can afford Wakanda so much faith with her custody,” he said over his shoulder , “It is too great a risk . I agree to keep her alive. I cannot promise to release her.”

‘Bast! Think Shuri. He’s agreed to keep her alive. That’s one problem down. Now you need to convince him that he can trust Wakanda.’

Shuri was stubborn. She would attack an obstacle at all sides until she found a weakness, a chink in the armor and got her way. She regarded the man in front of her, as he ran a large bronze hand through his thick black curls, that appeared damp. Her gaze traveled to his handsome face, strong jaw framed by his dark beard. From his broad shoulders hung a cream-colored cape, hand woven it appeared, bordered with red and white designs, held together with a gold epaulette on the left. Underneath he wore similar shorts to the ones he wore when he came upon her and her mother the night they first met, his arms and shins with bracers of jade, gold and vibranium.

“It is not polite to stare Princess,” he said without looking at her.

Heat rushed to Shuri’s face, embarrassed. But she would not be deterred.

“I was simply pondering on the best way to make a request,” she stated, hoping he would turn to see the friendly look on her face.

Thankfully , he did, head cocked slightly to the right, brow raised in question, “Oh? Another request Princess?”

“Yes . I would like to see you city,” she stated, softly, but confidently. She offered him a genial smile and clasped her hands in front of her , squaring her shoulders, hoping that her posture would make her mother proud.

His eyes narrowed once again, but not in suspicion.

“We do not allow surface dweller into our home Princess. Why should we relax the rules for you?”

“Well,” she started, taking a step towards him , “I have promised to protect your people and your country with the same dedication as I protect my own,”

She took another step, then another ,keeping her gaze steady, his eyes widening slightly closer she got. She stopped in front of him, so close that if she simply raised her hand she could touch him. “ I would like to see the country that I will be defending. I would like to see the land that we will be fighting for.”

She could feel the heat radiating off him, warming her skin deliciously. She took a deep breath and reached out to touch his hand once more, this time she swore she felt him shiver under her fingers. Embolden she gave his hand a squeeze and drew him closer to her gently, giving him the option to come closer or stay rooted where he stood. Her breath quickened when he came towards her, offering no resistance. He stopped only when their feet met. She could smell him, his essence making her heady, a mix of the ocean, something like honeysuckle and a musk uniquely him. It could easily become her new favorite scent. His broad chest rose and fell with his breath that seemed to be coming quicker. A part of Shuri relished in the fact that he was affected by her touch, a sick thrill of victory somersaulted in her stomach. It was soon replaced with butterflies as she licked her lips quickly and noticed how the motion caught his attention and he didn’t hide the way he was staring at her lips as if he wanted nothing more than to devour them. She watched him, lick his own lips slowly, subtly in anticipation, heat pooling below her belly.

It was getting harder to breathe. She cleared her throat, attempting to break the spell they were under , to refocus. Whatever was sparking between them was volatile. She needed to be more careful.

“ I would like to see your city,” she said hoarsely. She cleared her throat and continued what she hoped was more smoothly, “ I would like to see your home.”

Namor gave a hooded gaze, laced with restrained hunger, the corner of his mouth lifting in tempered amusement. He looked down between them and gently lifted her hand from her wrist sliding his fingers lightly up her palm, causing her to shiver before she could stop herself, a wicked tingle traveling from where his fingertips met the sensitive skin of her palm to the base of her neck, her heart pounding in her chest. He smirked and made a small, satisfied sound in the back of his throat, and he clasped large, warm hand with hers, his demeanor switching to one of neutral politeness. Shoulders squared and with a slight nod he agreed, “As you wish Princess. Follow me,” all the previous heat in his gaze just a moment ago gone, as if it were never there. Still holding her hand he led her out of his modest hut into the caverns.

Shuri, followed behind him, reeling from the capricious nature, growing annoyed at how quickly he switched from one mood to the other and suck her in so easily. She forced herself to breath deeply to dampen her irritation as she followed him to another hut inside of the underwater cave system where she noticed what looked like a very cumbersome space suit.

‘Dear Bast. Please send chains to tie my hands so I do not strangle this fish man’

Chapter Text

Chapter Two

Shuri stared in wonder at the large metal contraption in front of them and then back at Namor, and found him studying her.

“What’s this?”

“You said you wanted to see my city.”

He menacingly told her the dangers that could befall her should she venture into the depths unprotected. She cowered slightly and gulped.

Just as quickly his darkened countenance broke into a jovial expression, “Or you can wear the suit. Come now.”

‘Stupid sea pigeon’ Shuri grumbled internally as two handmaidens helped her into the underwater diving suit.

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She waddled out the hut behind him to the cenote in front of his hut. He stepped down into the water and motioned for her to do the same. “Stay close,” he shot over his shoulder and disappeared into the water, glowing blue due to the ambient lighting. She hopped into pool and kicked to try to keep up with Namor. He looked over his shoulder and slowed down to allow her a chance to catch up .

He came up to a long column of what looked like coral with a hole carved at the top. Namor placed his hands up to the cuffs into the opening and there the water began to form a current that looked much like a controlled tornado.

He looked back and motioned his head for her to follow him into the current. She stuck out a hand hesitantly but was soon sucked into the middle of the whirlpool.

Shuri automatically reached out for him as the strong current propelled her forward, scared that she may lose control and be hurled into the depths of the dark ocean. His firm grip caught her hand and pulled her up to face him, steadying her while they swam, her heart however, continued to race.

Namor kicked off and faster still they travelled along the giant current tunnelling through the ocean. Shuri had lost all sense of direction and she looked around as far as the field of vision the suit would allow then at Namor , who was staring up at the direction of their travel. She looked down at his hand holding her gloved one and heaved a breath. She had placed herself fully at the mercy of the strange god-king.

‘This is actual madness’ her brain chided her as she looked back at him. Here she was in the hands of a strange mutant ruler who had just threatened to kill a young scientist, much like herself, in the depths of an ocean filled with unknown dangers, a few layers of metal keeping her from certain death. Logically, she should be crafting an escape plan. Logically, she should not have left Riri alone in the cave system.

‘Logically , he should not have wings on his feet and be breathing underwater , but here we are Shuri.’

She abruptly ended her journey down that mental path and excitement started to bubble in her chest. She was about to see an underwater kingdom that no surface dweller knew even existed much less laid eyes on. And she wanted to see EVERYTHING! To know everything. She already had a list of questions she was itching to ask Namor but she filed them away in her mental notes. It did not feel right to strain the graciousness of the reclusive and temperamental king.

She studied his face then. His defined jaw darkened by the beard that framed it, his strong nose pierced with jade, the planes of his face shadowed under his high cheekbones, broad brow hooding his intensely brown eyes feathered with long black lashes all cooperated to create one of the most beautiful humans she had ever laid eyes upon. She admired the tendons in this solid neck and the stately set to his shoulders, her eyes travelling to observe the muscle of his defined chest and torso ….

Shuri’s eyes trailed back up his delectably bronze body and to her dismay she was hit with the dark gaze of Namor, the weight of it forcing her to shrink inside the suit trapping her there. Namor’s lips press to a line , the corner of one his brows raising in inquiry. Shuri blinked, embarrassed that the king had caught her ogling like a hungry jackal. He let out a small snort and looked forward once more.

His blood felt electrified as he became aware of her staring at him. He knew that he was handsome but he did not expect how excited it would make him to know that the princess regarded him as pleasing to observe. His skin tingled, not from the cold of ocean, but with arousal as he looked down and caught the heir of Wakanda gazing upon his form with what he guessed was …. longing?

When she looked back at his face and saw that he had witnessed her assessment of him she cast down her eyes, flustered and settled her gaze at the base of his throat. It pleased him to know the effect he was having on the princess. He wondered how many reactions he could illicit from her during their time together. He smiled internally. He would be sure to keep count. He made a hard left and propelled them out of the current and into calmer waves deep underwater.

Shuri felt herself jerk sharply to the left and cried out frightened. Namor steadied her and turned around to face the same direction as him and she quite literally stopped breathing.

Her eyes grew wide, with shock yes, but also with greed to consume every single visual marvel before her as she saw the capital city of Talokan as Namor described it.

“Welcome to my home, Princess.”

Shuri’s mouth opened and closed like a guppy, thinking, feeling, too many things all at once for anything coherent to come out, she looked at him, eyes still wide and then back at the underwater city swimming forward slowly.

Hues of blue and green glowed gently, illuminating the bustle of life before her. She felt a shift in the water and no sooner did she register the movement was she shadowed by a giant humpback whale swimming languidly above her head , Talokanil warriors riding alongside, holding onto its fins. A silent huff of wonder left her chest. This was real. She could barely believe she wasn’t dreaming. She looked forward again, swimming towards the people she saw swimming about. There were buildings everywhere arrange in an inverse dome like pattern and above her as well, spaced out and ventilated , with people swimming in and out of entrance ways and what looked like windows. Her eyes followed them as they swam efficiently, watching them interact with each other, smiling and conversing donned with varying styles of dress but common adornments of pearls and jade fastened and embellished the flowing fabrics.

Shuri noticed that under the water their skin was not blue but varying tones of deep olive and brown. Unlike their king they wore their dark hair long and loose for the most part, the adult women having half of their hair knotted atop their heads and accented with jewels and pearls. She even saw some wearing ear cuffs that pointed their ears, no doubt homage to their god-king.

She pushed forward, eyes ravenous. She got curious looks but they were not unfriendly as they stared at her openly. She did not even feel uncomfortable with all the attention she was receiving , she was so filled with elation at all that she was witnessing she was sure she would burst. She shot everyone she made eye contact with a warm smile, hoping she could convey how absolutely overjoyed and privileged she felt to be invited into their secret kingdom.

Some children darted across the expanse of what looked like a market, not unlike the ones in River Town, and swam up to her, the bolder ones touching her suit and giggling, and she couldn’t help but release a giggle of her own.

“Hello,” she grinned enthusiastically at them. They were so cute! Their expressions suddenly grew bashful and they all in unison, bowed slightly, cupping their hands in front them as their king entered Shuri’s periphery. Smiling, he echoed the greeting to them and crouched down to their level in the water and whispered something conspiratorially to them in their language. Whatever he said must have been hilarious because the children burst into laughter and swam away, after saluting him once more. He chuckled and half turned his body, motioning with his hand to follow him.

“What did you tell them?” she asked him in mock suspicion.

He flashed her a sly smile , “I’ll tell you later, if I feel like it,” he said as he swam ahead of her.

Shuri rolled her eyes .

As she swam she observed teens on what looked like a court , playing a game where it appeared they were using their hips to guide a ball in to a stone hoop, protruding from long intricately designed columns demarcating the play area, she guessed. Shuri’s mind made the connection between this game to the depictions of the games of pok-ta-pok shown in history books of ancient Mesoamerican culture. Emotion made her throat thick and her eyes grew misty.

She was hit with the magnitude of what Namor had done here for his people. They were a people forced to leave behind everything they ever knew, leave behind the land where their ancestors’ bones were laid to rest, leave behind breathing in the air of the surface, the sun, the stars and clouds in the sky. They were pushed into the inhospitable ocean and in its depths forged a life, where they carried as much of their culture and traditions with them as possible.

She was known as the girl who scoffed at tradition but in this moment, she understood how deep and meaningful some of it could be. Why her family held on to it so much. Sometimes, tradition could be the only thing tying you to the life your blood knows, the life you could have had if not interrupted, the tether between the present and the life your ancestors once enjoyed. Tradition could sometimes be a love letter, a map, a guide from the ones before to the ones who survived… a path to a life that they can hope for again, can work towards. A life they can fight for.

Swallowing the lump in her throat she looked around to find Namor. She found him speaking amicably to the vendors at various stalls selling their wares, smiling and listening intently as they addressed him, obvious admiration in their eyes. She noticed some schoolgirls huddling together and pointing to him as they blushed, stifling squeals and giggles behind their hands. Shuri smiled and rolled her eyes once more.

‘Of course he has that effect on anyone with a pulse’, she thought with mild annoyance. No wonder his ego was so inflated. They really did see him as their god. But more than that she mused, watching him speak to more citizens, never once showing annoyance with anyone vying for his attention, his people love him. That much obvious.

The back of her mind drew a parallel to how much people loved her brother, the fallen king. She quickly stuffed the thought back into a box. No one was like T’Challa.

He looked up from his latest conversation with a thin man with braided hair and smiled unguardedly at Shuri. A soft curve of his lips but it caused her stomach to do strange things. ‘Bast, get a grip Shuri.’

Before she could blink, he was next to her extending a hand.

“Come, I would like to show you something.”

Shuri hesitated for a moment and then took his hand. He led her across the expanse of the city and down until they faced what looked like his royal court. In the center of the court was his throne, seated inside the massive jaw of megalodon, the teeth replaced with jade. Behind the throne stood a colossal tower that came to a peak in a pyramid. She could not help but be deeply impressed at the architecture of it all, not a hint of any colonizer influence in the design of the city. Shuri’s eyes nearly bulged out of their sockets as the pyramid seemed to split apart slowly and from within its two halves emerged a giant sphere of brilliant light. She was miles away, but she was certain she felt it’s heat, even through her suit. She watched as it lit up buildings around them, revealing the intricate markings and engravings etched beautifully in the stonework. She observed the mayan glyphs that she could not read on the various edifices arranged in a series of networks all over the town.

She looked back at the glowing ball of light, awed as her brain dissected and analyzed all the information hitting her at once.

“Is it made of vibranium?” she asked him softly, wonder feathering her voice.

“Yes, in the depths of the ocean, I brought the sun to my people,” he replied with pride but no arrogance.

“It is beautiful,” she gushed.

His chest swelled and his heart fluttered with emotion watching her looks of admiration as she observed his home. Could it be, that finally , someone from the surface understood and could value his home, what he had built? Could it be there was someone else who could see the pieces of him he poured into creating a place for his people? There was no part of her assessment tainted by greed or ambition. All he could sense was her unbridled and insatiable curiosity as her eyes darted over everything he showed the princess.

He turned to face her, voice growing quiet with urgency

“ I know you wish me to spare the life of the scientist, but now you see what I have to protect,” his eyes bore into her. There was fear there in his gaze, his forehead creased with worry, the weight of his responsibility suddenly all too visible.

Shuri lowered her eyes, staring off in thought. His people did not just love him because he was a god. They loved him because of who he was. A god who created life for them where there was no life. A ruler who gave them light in the darkness. A king who gave them the sun in the depths of the cruel ocean. It hit her then, that the love his people had for him was a mere shadow of the love that he possessed for them. She still couldn’t agree with his course of action regarding Riri, but Bast damn him ,she understood. She understood the fierce dedication to the security of his nation that would lead him to eliminate any and every threat ruthlessly. Shuri hazarded him glance and met him studying her, his eyes seemingly pleading with her to understand.

She nodded at him and swallowed, “I see now, and I want to see so much more if you’d allow me. But you must know, I will try my hardest to convince you that there is another way. I have already offered to stay here in exchange for her.” Shuri turned to the sastun once more as it rose higher. “Although,” she continued, “I can’t deny that it is not entirely an unpleasant condition. I wouldn’t mind staying indefinitely.”

Namor froze and he was certain his heart slowed to a stop.

“I have a feeling this is just the tip of the iceberg and there is so much more to see of Talokan,” she continued. A charming smile split her face, then she squinted playfully and she turned to her royal tour guide “Yeah, I think I am going to convince you to see every inch of this place before my time here is done.”

So, she wanted to stay.

He stood rooted in his spot, unblinking. He only realized that he had not responded when he saw her beautiful smile falter and its warmth leave him, as her eyes widened in concern, apologies tumbling from her lips. What could he say to have her bless him with her smile again?

“ I am a god, Princess. Do you think you are able to sway the mind of one who has lived half a millennia?” he raised a brow in challenge, fashioning his lips in a cocky half smile.

Shuri shot him a toothy grin, meeting his challenge head on, “Yes ,” she responded without hesitation. “I am used to bending the minds of old stubborn men to see things my way. Just give me a few days and I will be bending you too.”

His eyes darkened hungrily as hers grew wide with embarrassment as they both heard her turn of phrase and interpreted it in the most lascivious of ways.

“ I mean….I …um… will have my way … I mean GET my way…with you eventually …”

Namor raised a brow suggestively and bared his teeth in a sharklike smirk, watching, amused, as Shuri opened and closed her mouth panicked, trying to rephrase her sentiments. Desire curled below his belly. He had kept a tight rein on his emotions during their excursion, but Chaac knows how many times he wanted to embrace her and drag her body against his as he witnessed the pure delight in her face as she viewed his world. There was a reverence in her gaze and he had no doubt that she not only enjoyed but respected the access she had been granted into his city.

As he looked at her interact with the children, he allowed his brain to print pictures of her writhing beneath him, clawing lines of lustful urgency down his back as he takes her to bliss and fills her with his seed, causing her to swell with his child. He let his mind conjure images of her , clad in the finest gowns he could commission, sitting next to him on the throne ruling side by side. He gave himself permission to imagine her straddling him on his throne, under the sastun , riding him to oblivion.

Now, he watched her, awkwardly trying to form a sentence and he suddenly needs them to be alone, away from curious eyes.

“I think, you say exactly, what you mean, Princess,” he said neutrally.

“I meant,” she tried again. He chuckled to himself. She was headstrong this one. “ All I am trying, poorly, to say, is that no obstacle is a match for me,” she sniffed jutting her chin up regally, “especially not the will of a bull-headed royal.”

“Bull-headed?” he said indignantly

She closed her eyes and smirked, unperturbed. “You heard me.” She started to hum softly, feigning ignoring him.

A growl formed in the back of his throat. She was fire and wit and beauty and all sorts of alluring. She was also kind hearted and not self-serving, evidenced by her willingness to give her life for the scientist. She was also stubborn and not easily intimidated by him, willing to challenge him. He wondered how strong her resistance really was. A sick part of him wanted to push, to test her , tempt her, see how strong her defenses were.

She opened one eye and peaked at him from under kohl lashes, cheeky smile on her face, still humming.

He furrowed his brow and shot her a menacing look and grunting. To his surprise she started to laugh. The sounds floated into his brain and caressed ever corner and he never wanted it to end. He was not sure what expression he now bore but she took one look at his face let out peals of laughter each one more forceful than the next. He was sure the only thing keeping her from doubling over was the rigid suit. Swept up in her, he found himself laughing too as he saw tears streaming down her cheeks, her face twisting in several comical expressions of her trying to calm herself down.

“Oh, this is going to be too easy , K’uK’ulkan,” she managed to get out mirth coloring her voice.

His blood caught fire as his name danced on her tongue. Her accent, untouched by the colonizer’s language, did delicious things to the syllables and quickly became his most favorite sound in the word. Need clawed in his chest and he decided in that moment that he would hear her say his name again, and again, and again as she begs him to fill her and carry her to extasy he is certain only he alone can supply.

He extended his hand towards her once more.

“Share a meal with me, Princess. Let it not be said that the king of Talokan starves his guests. I a nothing if not an attentive host.”

She took his hand and he sped off into the direction of his private quarter in the caverns. He heard her squeal in surprise at his speed, her little sounds of delight as she took last glances at the city filled him with a hunger that would not be satisfied with food. He kicked his feet to go even faster.

He needed to be alone with her. Now

Chapter Text

Namor had to be smart.

He had lived long enough to know when he wanted something and how to go about getting it. He knew, without a doubt, that he wanted Shuri. Being a quick study of people, he had spent all his time observing, measuring, analyzing the Princess. Initially, for the purpose of getting the desired outcome from Wakanda, but now his analysis would be needed to procure an even greater prize. The princess was smart, genius really, quick witted and kind, but stubborn and indomitable. She was not intimidated by him in the ways that others were. No, the fear he sensed from her wasn’t directly of him, but rather of what he might do to others that she held dear. She was extremely empathetic but guarded, the way she held herself was undeniably regal even when she was being open and friendly.

He chuckled to himself. Shuri would not be easy to attain, but Namor would not know rest until he had her, so attain her he must. There was one way, and one way only he could get an
invaluable prize like the heir of Wakanda. He would have to get her to want him first. He needed to stoke her passion, then channel it in his direction, get under her skin, invade her thoughts and mark her dreams with his scent. She needed to be consumed with want, need for him until the only thing to free her from her torment was his touch.

He grinned wickedly, growing firm thinking of his plan

________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Shuri took note of the urgency with which Namor shot out of the water and up the steps leading to his personal hut. Peculiar. Her eyes followed the way the muscles of his back flexed as he made his way to the entrance and paused to slick his hair back off his forehead. She chewed the inside of her cheek and forced herself to not give him any more consideration…for now. If her mind was a cup, it was running over.

Shuri’s veins were buzzing with adrenaline. Nothing could have prepared her mind and soul for the beauty and wonder that was Talokan. For its very existence! As she divested herself of the clunky underwater suit she was already drafting her request to be allowed back. There was so much to see, to inquire about, to discover, to analyze. A soft contented sigh left her lips. The last time she was exposed to worlds other than the one she had known, it was in a battle for the fate of her own. But now, by Bast, there was a whole undisclosed underwater kingdom! And she was the first land dweller to see it! Shuri felt like her spirit and mind were fighting to be uncaged from her physical being and expand to express the fullness of their joy!

She wanted, no , needed to know everything. How did they trade? What was their curriculum like? Did they have scientists? How DID Namor create the vibranium sun? Her brain was a greedy beast that would not tolerate hunger. It demanded to be fed and Talokan was the most enticing of buffets.

She chewed the inside of her lip as she got lost in her head, ruminating on how she could repay Talokan for its warm welcome. Their own version of kimoyo beads maybe? Cloaking for their vibranium mines? Did they have a mine like Wakanda? There was so much she needed to know!

She furrowed her brow as she tried to iron out the wrinkles in her jade adorned dress with her slender hands, the world around her disappearing as she communed with her thoughts. What were the Talokanil attitudes towards technology? She didn’t notice much save the sastun during her visit to the capital. Would they reject what she had to offer? Would they reject her? Internally, she shook her head, dismissing the self-doubt. She won over the elders of the council back home, she was sure she could win over Talokan and their mercurial god king. Speaking of the feathered serpent ….

Shuri abruptly adjourned her internal staff meeting with the sudden awareness that neither her nor her companion had spoken a word in a few minutes. The characteristic intermittent drip of the cavern and their breathing were the only sounds she could discern as they stood at the entrance of his thatched roof hut. Slowly, she gazed up through her lashes and her stomach lurched as an intense brown stare burned through her.

‘What chemical reaction turns adrenaline to molten lava?’ ,Shuri wondered.

She doesn’t know just when she became flame retardant, but she is grateful to Bast, because she is sure that forces inside her and without were uniting to make her spontaneously combust. Namor quite literally was trying to set her ablaze with his eyes, she was certain of it. She almost looked down to ensure that her skin was not in fact engulfed in flames. Might as well have been the way heat prickled her neck, her ears, her cheeks and all the way down to her -

‘Say something for Bast’s sake!’

“Namor, your city, it’s- “

“ Are we enemies, Princess?”, he cut in, his voice low and warm but tinged with unmistakable warning.

“No , forgive me , my king. I do not see you as an enemy, especially not after you’ve granted me the privilege and honor of witnessing the beauty of your magnificent city,” Shuri rushed, breathlessly. She exhaled slowly, steadying herself. “ I hesitate to say the name your people call you as I feel like my clumsy pronunciation would be disrespectful and I do not wish to dishonor you and equally as important, I do not wish to embarrass my mother with my failed diplomacy.” She chuckled nervously

“And what if I would love to hear the way your accent wraps itself around my name, itzia?” , slowly he steps towards her, his gaze darkening. “What if,” he stopped an arm’s length in front of her, sending waves of his heat to dance on her damp skin, “what if I wanted to hear the way my name sounds on your tongue and falls from your lips?”. His dropped his hooded eyes to her lips, and licked his slowly, hungrily.

To her horror, a shiver took hold of her body before she could suppress it. She knew it wasn’t from cold because her blood was molten. Before she could even question if Namor noticed or not, he smirked, smugly, and she fought the urge to chop him in the throat.

Gazing at her squarely, he spoke again. “ Share a meal with me , Princess,” he said huskily, not quite a request but not fully a command.

Shuri gulped and nodded.

“ I thank you for your hospitality but I should probably check on the young scientist though…” she looked in the direction of the cavern where she and Riri had been kept since their arrival under the ocean.

“You must think me a barbarian,” he said silkily, looking at the nails of one of his large, brown fingers, unreadable expression on his face. “The scientist has been fed and tended to in our absence. But” he looked back at her, “I suspect you may be reticent to simply trust my word.”

He raised his hand and made a summoning motion in the air, and out of nowhere a young , raven-haired handmaiden appeared, hands laden with a basket filled with what looked like linen garments. She stopped to the side of the royal pair and bowed to her king.

“Xelha will take you to your chambers to assist you with freshening up and donning new clothes. I cannot imagine the conditions were favorable in that contraption,” his lips twitched, almost smiling as he motioned to the discarded underwater suit. His expression turned serious once more.

“You can check on your precious scientist,” he spat , “ and see that I, unlike surface-dwellers, keep every oath I swear to another,” he finished coolly.

‘Uh oh,’ Shuri thought, watching his face grow impassive, sensing more than feeling the withdrawal of his warmth. ‘Great going , genius, you’ve offended him even after he extended hospitality. Brilliant diplomat you are. Get it together! ’

“ I did not mean to offend you, K’uK’ulkan,” She attempted, and to her reluctant delight she observed some heat flicker in his eyes briefly as she uttered his name, even though somewhat clumsily. “ My desire to check on the scientist stems from personal guilt , I assure you, not because of a lack of faith in your word.” He cocked his head slightly,considering her. She took that as good sign to continue.

“I just spent the last few hours on,” she gestured to the pool behind her and huffed an incredulous laugh, “what is, indisputably, the most incredible adventure of my life, while she was here uncertain about her future. I was not rebuffing your invitation. I simply wanted to provide her some comfort with my presence, beforehand.”

Shuri looked up at him, doe-eyed, hoping that he could read her sincerity in her face.

He watched her for what seemed like forever, searching, for what ,she wasn’t sure. Finally, he turned to Xelha who was still standing next to them dutifully, and muttered something quietly in their language and she bowed to him once more and then turned to Shuri, bowing slightly.

“Itzia,” the young Talokanil said and made a motion with her head requesting Shuri follow her.

Shuri looked to Namor for confirmation.

“ Join me in an hour, Princess. I will have a meal prepared for us.” With that he headed to the doorway, swept aside the curtain and entered his hut.

___________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Standing in the middle of his hut, Namor listened as he heard a very special heartbeat grow distant. He rubbed a rough hand across his jaw, scratching at his beard and looked around his hut. He had never felt self-conscious about his surroundings before but with the princess coming to share in his space, he wondered if she found it as impressive as her own accommodations on the surface. Not that he cared. He didn’t care. Not really.

Past the hammock to his right, the back entrance of his hut led to a private pool where he went to cleanse himself. He thought about calling on his attendants to assist him with disrobing as usual, but he thought the better of it. He did not want anyone’s hands on him right now if they weren’t the nimble, soft ones the color of the richest xocolatl. He removed his gold bracers from his shins and forearms, his gold belt from around his waist and finally his neckpieces, the heavy gold and vibranium encrusted one, then all the pearl and shell necklaces.

He walked down towards his bathing pool, removing his green shorts on the way and kicking them away. Fully nude he immersed himself into the warm water and closed his eyes, planning for the events of the evening ahead of them. He had sent word to the cooks to prepare the finest of meals for them to share tonight, hoping to impress her and endear his home and culture to her even more. He sank deeper into the water, letting the tension roll off him.

He was uneasy. Not the usual uneasiness of a monarch who bore the weight of every single soul under his care. This was the uneasiness of prey, who could sense the shift in vibrations of a predator lurking about but could not quite see them. He had kept his domain safe for as long as he had been king. While the threats were all taken seriously when they came, he had never doubted his ability to keep his people safe. But the pillaging surface dwellers were getting ever more active in his waters since they became aware of Wakanda’s vibranium. He had sunk ships that sent their probes and fed the divers who came too close to the sharks, neither the wiser of the treasures that lay in the deep.

Over the years there were the commercial liners dumping their waste in his home, whalers operating illegally, pale men overfishing and cutting into the Talokanil food supply, mining companies searching for new places to drill for oil. He had dispatched all of them quickly and easily, sparing none, as was his way. The safety of Talokan would never be compromised. He swore it to his mother. He swore it to his people. He swore it to himself.

He flexed his broad shoulders, rolling his neck trying to relax his muscles. He could not shake the uneasiness that remained his shadow ever since he came upon the American scientist’s machine on their vibranium deposit. This was the first time that any surface dweller had come near it and the solution had been the same as it always was. Neutralize the threat, leave no witnesses. However now, in his home, were two surfaces dwellers, one the very cause of all his present trouble. It would be so easy to crush her throat with his hands. He clenched his fists and grit his teeth at the thought. Problem solved.

But there was a second surface dweller, with feline eyes that beguiled him, soft lips and beautiful dark skin that made his mouth long to taste every inch. Slowly he released a breath and unclenched his fist at the thought of her. The Princess. Shuri. She was not a variable he had anticipated. If he was thinking normally, he would have killed her and the scientist and laid waste to Wakanda then the rest of the surface. He could do it. He could. He knew he could. But he did not want to, not right now. He did not want to imagine her body lifeless by his own hands. He did not want to witness her blood outside her veins nor her chest still, no breath in her lungs. The images flashed through his brain.

“No!” he growled as he hit the surface of the water with his powerful fist, causing water to shoot up into the air. He would not kill her, not unless it was absolutely essential. And even then…

He shook his head clear of the dark thoughts that threatened to muddy his brain. He needed to focus on the task at hand. He breathed in slowly, regulating his heartbeat, calming his mind. In a few minutes his hand maidens would be coming in to prepare the hut for the meal with the princess. He smiled to himself. He had been annoyed with her care for the scientist at his invitation, but he supposes that the qualities he admired in her would extend to all people, not just his. Maybe if he endeared her to him some more, made her fall in love with Talokan, maybe she wouldn’t have so much care for surface dwellers. Maybe.

He was getting ahead of himself. Tonight was important. He had to charm the princess. Woo her but only just enough for her to start wanting him, enough for her to come to him , yearning, longing. He closed his eyes once more, imagining her, eyes half lidded, lips swollen from kissing him, gazing at him as she run her hands down his body, down his chest, gently grazing his nipples, sliding over his taut stomach, past his belly button, fingers pausing at the thick patch of dark hair and finally , warmly, firmly , grasping his-

He leaned his head back and grabbed himself under the water, fingers barely closing over his girth.

Shuri was not immune to his charms, he knew; he had heard her heart speed up and her breath hitch whenever he was just a little too near or gave her a suggestive look. She was also royalty, and from her own admission, a very brilliant mind. He had to be careful, he didn’t want to push her too far, too fast. The princess was highly intelligent; she could too easily figure him out before he had his hooks in her and that would be disastrous. What he aimed to do would be so much easier if she didn’t have such an effect on him. He was grateful for every year of his five centuries of experience that taught him restraint and patience. Every last drop would be needed with the princess until he had her where he wanted her.

Chaac help them, however, because the moment she confesses that she desires him…

He bucks into his hand at the thought and begins to stroke himself slowly.

He heard a faint splash and a high pitched yelp. His ears twitched and his breath came faster. The princess was in the bathing pool near where she and the scientist slept. The pace of his stroking grew faster. The bioluminescence of the cavern must be doing tantalizing things to her bare skin, he thought. Desire was a serpent in his belly, coiling tighter and tighter. He reached behind him, tightening his fingers on the stone lip of the pool, his other hand pumping his length furiously, his head thrown back, mouth slightly open. His entire council coming into his hut right now would not be enough to stop from chasing his release at the thought of his princess, a few feet away, naked, get herself ready for their meal together, getting herself ready for him.

A growl rumbled in his chest. He imagined her getting herself ready for him in other ways. Imagined her, half submerged like him, touching herself, thinking of him. Thinking of him kissing her, leaning in close and licking the indentation below her throat, down her sternum, across her pert, plump breasts, her dark nipples. He was bucking into his palm now, disturbing the surface tension of the water around him. He pictured her, head thrown, mirroring him, exposing her delicate slender neck, back arched, her center grown slick and hot with thoughts of him, sliding one finger, then two into her the core of her, moaning, imagining him there instead. He sighed lustily and pumped even faster.

He could feel the familiar tingle in his body, his muscles growing impossibly taut, climax on the horizon. In his mind, she was slowly plunging her fingers in and out, keening for him, chasing her own pleasure and as she reached her peak, she screwed her eyes shut and cried out, calling his name, the name his people called him, only in that special way that only she could.

It was enough to send him over the edge. Thick spurts of his essence shot into the water as the force of his orgasm almost doubled him over, ripping a ragged cry from his throat. He stayed there for a few moments letting the aftershocks work their way through his system, allowing his breathing to return to normal. His ears twitched, hearing footsteps of his servants entering his hut to get everything ready. He pushed off and swam to the center of the pool to finish his bath. He scrubbed every inch of himself, including his hair, with the soap made by the artisans in the city. He rinsed off and rose from the pool. In one of the shelves indented into the wall to the left there was a small basket with vials of fragrant oils that he used on special occasions. He liked the way it made his brown skin shine. When he was done rubbing his damp body with the oil, he ran a hand through his hair and teased it in into the desired shape, away from his forehead, knowing that once his thick, coarse curls were dry they would fall in a way that flattered his face. He needed everything to be perfect. He wanted to look perfect. For her.

As the attendants left, Namor strolled back into the hut. Platters of food adorned his table as well as a large jug of honied wine popular to his people. Bowls of light sat at varying positions in the hut, casting it in a warm, golden glow.

He got dressed quickly, putting on the outfit left in his hammock. He pulled on a pair of shorts, circled his waist with his gold belt and wrapped himself in a soft white and red cloak leaving one hand free, gold pauldrons at his shoulders carved into serpent heads, eyes of jade. He put on his gold, pearl and shell necklaces and arm bands, deciding to forego his large vibranium neckpiece and gold bracers. The king did not want to look too formal; he wanted the princess to relax in his presence. Also, he wanted her to have access to as much of his skin as possible, should his plan work better than he anticipate.

He smirked. It was a stroke of genius to relieve himself before the arrival of the princess. With his lust somewhat satiated he could execute his operation without being too susceptible her magnetic charm.

His head shoots up as he hears a familiar heartbeat draw closer.

Shuri.

He hears her footsteps stop on the other side of the curtain. Anticipation sends his pulse racing.

“K’uk’ulkan?” she says, softly, breathily.

Chaac help me please.

“You may enter, itzia,” he answers, his voice gravelly and thick.

The curtain moves aside, and the princess crosses the threshold and steps into the hut of the god king.

His stomach hit the floor as his eyes drank her in greedily, desire darkening his gaze. Need sank its fingers into his flesh and entered his bloodstream. He had underestimated how much …self- care… he had needed to diminish the lust that was choking him right now. He knew then and there that if the gods themselves did not aid him, his machinations to trap her affections might backfire and ensnare him instead, leaving him on his knees begging her to worship at her feet forever.

‘Chaac, I beseech you, do not fail me now.’

Chapter Text

Shuri had followed Xelha to the cavern she shared with Riri. Lost in thought with her interaction with the capricious god king. She felt like she was in a tempest around him, tossed to and fro, at the mercy of his shifting moods. At times he was intimidating , almost menacing . Then there were times when he shamelessly seductive. Her face grew warm remembering how he looked at her with such hunger in his eyes. But then the next minute he was cool, closed off.

She couldn’t keep up. Shuri had very little patience for emotional upheaval at so rapid a pace. She needed to keep her wits about her. The life of the scientist and possibly her countrymen, depended on it. She felt a pang of guilt at the thought of Riri. She must be so terrified in the cave alone. Well, as alone as one could be with the two guards Namora, Namor’s general, had stationed to monitor them.

“Princess Shuri!” Riri shot up from her hammock , running towards the princess as she entered their cavern.

“Are u okay!? Did he hurt you!? I was so worried !”

Shuri embraced the young American . “I am okay. What about you? “

“ I’m scared shitless but I’m okay I guess. I mean as okay as you can be when an under water monster king wants your head on a stick,” she muttered under breath

Shuri pulled back and snapped “He’s not a monster! We should be very careful what you say out loud here,” she glanced back furtively at the guards, “ he is being very gracious and I am doing my best to negotiate for your release. I need you to trust me.”

“Gracious?!” Riri screeched

“Shhhhh! For Bast’s sake keep it down!” Shuri whispered urgently.

Riri lowered her voice, “Gracious?”, she repeated incredulously, “A madman kidnapped me and wants to kill me for no reason at all?”

The princess sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose. “ I told him keep me instead and release you. He as agreed to not kill you.”

“What about letting me go?”

“I’m working on it.”

“How?” the shorter girl asked conspiratorially, casting side glances to the three Talokanil in the cavern, who were pretending to ignore the two foreigners.

“ I am trying to get him to trust me, to make an agreement to work with Wakanda, be allies.” She chewed the inside of her cheek. “ I am going to meet him in less than an hour to have din- to discuss more terms over some food.” She turned to the handmaiden and extended her hands towards the basket, assuming that it was filled with a change of clothes.

“What?!” Riri threw her hands in the airs then let them slap her thighs. “ You’re not seriously going to go and spend more time with that lunatic are you?”

“He’s not a lunatic,” Shuri clucked, slighting annoyed

“Why are you defending him?!” Riri squeaked, exasperated.

She sighed deeply then answered in a measured tone, “ I am not defending him. I understand your feelings. I do.” Riri huffed and crossed her arms roughly. Shuri continued.

“He is a king. A real king of a real kingdom. Millions of people, just like us , only they live under the oceans. And their city, it -it was the most unbelievably amazing, breathtaking sight. He built a vibranium sun for his people! I saw it! With my own two eyes. If you told me this place existed before today, I wouldn’t believe it. But there it was, a whole city , under us for hundreds of years.” She looked back at Riri, her eyes gleaming with excitement as she attempted to convey her wonder of discovering a new wealth of information and beauty.

The younger girl squinted , her tone accusatory, “While I was here afraid for my life you were out there on a date?”

Guilt settled in her stomach, she looked down, and mumbled “It wasn’t a date. I asked him to see his home and he graciously obliged. I am the first person not from here to see it.” She felt a tad proud of that fact for some reason. Her shoulders squared as she leveled her tone, “I am sorry that you feel scared Riri.” She grabbed her wrist and gave a look of sincerity.

“ I won’t let him kill you. He has promised me that he would not . That’s one thing down. I just have to convince him to release you. And I plan to try my best tonight. He allowed me into his city. I saw his throne. I am hoping it is a sign that he trusts me somewhat. Or at least respects me. If that is the case then he will consider my arguments in favor of your freedom and perhaps something that Wakanda can offer to make him more open to my suggestions.”

Riri wrung her hands nervously. “ I really hope you’re right , Princess. This suspense is killing me. I want my mom.”

Shuri’s heart broke as she reached out to embrace her. She cradled her head briefly and pulled away holding Riri by her shoulders, “I will ask him if we can send word to Wakanda and have my mother reach out to your mother okay?”

Riri sniffled, “ Okay,” she nodded weakly.

“ I have to go get ready . He gave me an hour and I have a feeling he doesn’t appreciate tardiness.”

She thanked Xelha for the contents of the basket and assured her that she didn’t need help getting ready, with much fuss. The basket contained more than she had assumed. There were three delicate dresses; a sheer white one adorned with shells and pearls at the hips and a plunging neckline which had a large jade pendant at the sternum. The other two were different shades of green less sheer than the first one, each having unique embroidery and jewel embellishments.

Underneath the dresses was a large , exceptionally blanket that she guessed was for wrapping herself and drying herself off. To her surprise underneath the blanket were three vials of oil that she assumed were for her skin as well as what looked to be bars of soap and a sponge.

She got undressed and placed the old dress in the empty basket and wrapped herself in the blanket , grabbed the soap and the sponge and made her way to the secluded pool just behind a rock near their cavern.

She unwrapped herself , folded the blanket on a nearby rock, and stuck her toe into the water. She had barely broken the surface when she lost her balance and slid all the way in the pool with a splash and let out a high-pitched yell of panic. Shuri righted herself quickly and looked around to see if her little fall had alerted anyone, but the cavern remained quiet. She waded to get the soap and sponge and started to scrub every part of her not covered by her black boy shorts and sports bra.

Her body goes on autopilot as her mind kicks into overdrive. She a lot riding on the dinner with the king. She must convince him to release Riri, let her contact her mother and in doing so bring her to the surface. She slumps her shoulders and sighs. She was not equipped for diplomatic negotiations like the rest of her family. She didn’t know how to mask her truth in words that weren’t lies but felt like them.

She scrubbed her shoulders absentmindedly. She was a scientist. And scientists solve problems. How was she to solve the problem that was Namor?

Now that she had seen part of his kingdom she understood more his urgency. It didn’t make what he wanted to do right, but she could empathize. He was leader who had a deep sense of duty to his people and their protection, and he swore it on his life. They were all that mattered to him , unfortunately at the expense of everyone else. How could she get him to care about the innocent people of the surface world? How could she get him to care about her?

What if she got him to befriend her, show him how she could be useful to his people, maybe then he would see that, if she was good, then other surface dwellers could be good too.

Did he care though? About her? Shuri hummed to herself, deep in thought as she rinsed off. There were moments during their times together when she was positive she felt desire from him. Not to mention some of the …suggestive things he would say from time to time. Her skin prickled at the memory, her body sending moisture to her center, recalling how his eyes would burn with a primal hunger any time he looked like he wanted to devour her.

But most of the time he was so passive, inscrutable or cool that she second guessed if the fleeting moments of heat ever happened. He was as unpredictable as the ocean itself but if Shuri was the best at anything it was recognizing patterns and correlations. She was positive the more time she had to observe him, analyze him, the more information she could gain to crack his code. That and that alone was the reason she was looking forward to spending time with him. That was the absolute only reason.

She swum a lap in the warm pool and then made her way to the steps carved in to the stone and sighed; a quiet anticipation building in her bones. She grabbed the blanket and wrapped it around herself , blotting dry. She glanced around once more to ensure that she was alone and quickly removed her underwear under the blanket. Making a secure knot at her chest with the blanket so it would not fall, she grabbed the rest of her items and made her way back to the cavern. There she found another handmaiden with a basket that she handed to the American; her own change of clothes and toiletries

Riri rubbed her eyes with the back of her hand and yawned, shuffling towards the handmaiden that had just roused her to usher her to the pool Shuri had just come from.

“If you’re gone before I get back , have fun on your date with the fish king,” she threw over her shoulder , exiting the cavern.

“It’s not a date!” Shuri exclaimed but Riri was already gone.

Shuri grabbed the oils and inhaled each one. She grabbed the vanilla first and poured a generous amount. She grabbed the second and poured four drops of lavender . The last one was jasmine and she added two small drops to the mixture and mixed them with the tip of her pinky and sniffed. Perfect. She began to moisturize her skin , pleasantly surprised how light and smooth the oil felt on her. When she was done her body looked dewy under the blue light of the cave. The three dress options now held her attention . A groan sounded in her chest suddenly at the realization that the basket was sans new underwear. She regarded the dresses again reaching for the opaquest one but stopping halfway. Something wicked whispered in her brain and Shuri agreed with it. Decision made, she reached for the sheer white dress that looked like it would hug her gentle curves the best and slid it on with minimal effort.

She had a theory to test.

_________________________________

As she exited the cavern, she passed the two guards who regarded her warily. She walked past them through the arch that led out of their cave system and out towards an open path lined with trees and plants on one side and the outer edge of the pool to the city on the other. Her pulse quickened. It’s just nerves, she told herself. It was not excitement at all. No, that’s not what it was.

She fussed with her curls at the top of her head , making sure they stayed in place.

When she finally stood in front of the entrance to his hut, she took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. Her mission was simple, convince Namor that not all surface people were bad, get him to release the scientist and send a message to her mother. Easy. She took second breath. She could do this.

“K’ukulkan?” she said , timidly.

A large hand drew back the curtain and her stomach began somersault at the sight of him.

Damn.

His beauty was otherworldly. Had she not been in his presence under these circumstances, she would have found it an easy thing to weep in admiration at how finely the gods themselves crafted the being in front of her. Their best work.

He stood for moment , raking his eyes down her body his gaze darkening as he took her in. Her face warmed when he looked, knowing that the dress she had chosen did little to hide the fact that she was not wearing anything beneath it. A soft breeze kissed her ankles.

Hmm.

“Princess,” he rasps as he extends a hand to her, “thank you for joining me.” She took his hand and immediately sparks of electricity ran through her. “ Allow me to seat you.”

Namor guided her to the handcrafted chair facing away from the entrance. “Thank you, K’uKulkan,” she said bashfully, suddenly feeling shy. She gazed at the feast before her. There were bowls of fruits that she thought she recognized, plates with fish, vegetables , breads and small cakes and half shells with sauces. There were bowls of gold light on various ledges around the hut, bathing everything in warm gold hues. She felt nervous and not excited at all again.

“This is very impressive and generous. Thank you, K’ukulkan,” she felt the air around her ankles move in waves almost as soon as she noticed his wings flutter.

Curious.

Not knowing where to begin, she contemplated the bowls and platters between them, trying figure out which dish seemed the most familiar to the food of her homeland.

“Is it not to your liking, itzia?” brown eyes under furrowed brows regarded her frozen state, seating himself across from her.

Shuri rolled her eyes at herself internally. ‘How many more times are you going to offend this man in his own home, genius?’

“On the contrary, everything looks very appetizing, thank you. Your kitchen staff have outdone themselves, truly. You did not have to go through all this trouble for me, I –“

“Would you like me to assist you?” he asked softly, brows raised slightly, eyes never leaving her face.

“Yes, please,” a sigh of relief leaving her, as she offered him a shy smile. “What would you suggest I start with?”

In answer, he shifted his cloak to accommodate his reach to the bowl in the center of the table which contained what looked like fleshy burnt orange fruit cut into wedges. Brown fingers caught one and raised it to her lips.

Panic rose in her chest. “What are you doing?” she whispered before she could stop herself.

“Assisting you,” Namor responded calmly, yet his gaze was anything but. It was all heat and greedy desire only much more intense than anyone she knew could humanly manage to convey.

That familiar sensation of being burned alive from the inside started creeping up her back to the crown of her head. She told herself that she was doing this because she did not want to offend him. That this was just a guest being polite to a powerful host.

She was a terrible liar.

As if hypnotized, she leaned forward slightly to allow him to slide the fruit past her lips, glancing at him shyly. He pushed the entire wedge into her mouth and allowed one finger to breach her lips.

When asked about it in the future, Shuri will plead temporary insanity. In this moment however, she is not sure what possessed her to, but as his fingers touch her lips she darts the tip of her tongue out and gently licks the fruit juice off the tip, looking up at him through her lashes. Simultaneously, she sees his jaw clench and unclench, his brows draw together and his lips press into straight line. She felt a gust at her ankles once more and heard a faint flapping noise.

Interesting.

He was fearsomely handsome. Menacingly attractive, and if it wasn’t for the way his eyes darkened with unmistakable desire, she would have assumed he was angered by her act of boldness. But she knew better. Her breath caught in her throat when he withdrew his hand and proceeded to suck on the very same finger, looking her dead in the eye. Heat pooled below her belly with immediate effect and she found her core clenching painfully around nothing.

Holy shit.

When he next spoke, his voice was deep and gravelly. “Your turn, Princess.”

She clenched again and gulped, blinking rapidly, attempting to will her pulse to stop racing.

“M-my,” she squeaked. She cleared her throat and tried again, “My turn?”, she asked, her voice a tad stronger.

“Yes ,” was all he replied, still staring intently.

Her brows knit together in confusion for a second before it clicked. Oh.

Hoping her hands appeared steady, she reached forward and carefully grabbed the longest wedge of fruit that she guessed was some type of mango, and tentatively reach out towards him, raising her brows in askance. He caught her silent request and leaned forward, half dropping his lids so he could look at her beneath his surprisingly long , dark lashes. Her heart thrashed against her ribcage like a hungry rhino, pumping liquid fire into her circulatory system.

He parted his lips slightly and slowly drew out his tongue, like his namesake, and let it rest on his bottom lip. Mirroring his actions of a few moments ago, she slid the mango on his tongue pushing the last bit in with her index finger. Suddenly his lips closed around her finger, trapping it in his mouth. Her lungs forgot how to work when he sucked and licked the juice off her finger at the same time, sorcery, Shuri was certain. She couldn’t stop her mind from wondering how it would feel if he did that brand of magic on her down –

‘Bast above.’

She tried to remove her finger but was met with resistance as he bit down lightly, his teeth grazed the pad of her finger, the pressure sending a tiny tremor rippling through her body, starting at the base of her neck and ending at her center.

“I believe that is my favorite,” he said in a way that led her to believe he might possibly not be referring to the mango.

Her thighs fused together tightly; Shuri was barely suppressing a hysterical giggle that threatened to escape her. The incredulity of her present circumstances was hitting her. Here she was, location unknown , beneath an ocean , in a hut with a king, who ruled a whole secret country in the depths. She was having dinner with said king , who, on only her third time interacting with him, has made her the wettest she has ever been in her life.

‘Gods I beg, I need help to stop this madness.’

But she didn’t really want to. Truth be told, this was the first time an emotion other than grief, rage or shame had filled her since her brother and baba died, and it felt so damn good. So damn good to not have her insides ripped and rubbed raw by the sharp claws of bottomless, yawning sadness and guilt, a hurt so deep she was forced to feel that or go numb, so she chose numb almost daily lately. She had shut off the part of her that feels and stayed within the part of her that thinks. Until now. Until him.

A week ago she didn’t know he existed. But ever since he had accosted her and her umama where the elephants drink under the stars, in his impossibly tiny shorts and naught else, he had been frequent in her thoughts. And right in this moment, he was consuming her mind; she felt consumed by him. Her body felt electric, awake, ablaze. She was all nerves and impulses, the consequence of his proximity, his gaze, his touch, his essence.

Something dark and sultry was being unshackled in the back of Shuri’s consciousness …unlocked by him. At times in her the past, she would push it back behind that door, knowing that whoever her fling was at that moment, would not be able to handle the unchained side of her. She had thought there was no one who ever could. Until him.

She would not be able to explain it to anyone but, from the first moment she met him, seeing him covered with raw vibranium , water rolling off his broad, solidly muscled bronze body , she felt an energy from him. A distinct frequency that called to one similar, somewhere in the restricted area of her mind.

And now, having spent time with him, observing him, speaking with him, she knew she had met the wall that she could slam against and it would not give way. She knew that if she were to untether the dark hound that was gnashing its teeth in eagerness to be set free to run, she would find that whatever daemon he had leashed inside of him, could keep up with hers and even outrun it. There was someone else like her.

She looked down at Namor’s ankles, his white wings fluttering. She wanted to test a theory.

She schooled her face into a look of sinful innocence and looked openly at the god-king across from her. “That mango was delicious,” she said. Huskily she continued, “I’m afraid it has whet my appetite,’’ she licked her lips quickly, but watched as his eyes hungrily followed the journey then travelled back up to her eyes. Fluttering followed by a gentle breeze at her ankles. She smirked internally.

“ I was hoping you could suggest what I should eat next,” she made her voice a touch breathier, “K’uk’ulkan.” Flutter. Breeze.

‘I knew it!’ she thought triumphantly. The unreadable king had a tell and now,she knew it. But she would never let him know that she did.

A low, growl rumbled in his chest as he tore his gaze from hers and to the food before them. He picked up a bowl with small puffy cakes , that were warm, fragrant and a beautiful, vibrant purple. She took one and bit into it. Before she could edit herself, an obscene groan left her throat and her eyes rolled back in her head as the pleasure sensors in her brain went off. She tasted savory corn, with a slight sweetness and a third element that she couldn’t identify but the flavor was doing something wicked to her.

She eagerly polished the rest of it off and was licking the crumbs off her fingers when felt the heat of Namor’s stare. If she thought he was intense before, there was not a word for what he was now. His nostrils were flared, eyes blazing, brows drawn down, darkening his gaze at her fingers in her mouth. He very much looked like he was trying to mentally command them to exchange places with him.

Flutter, flutter, flutter. Breeze.

Oh.

‘Ease up, Shuri.’

But she did not want to. She wanted to play with him, push him, and she knew it wasn’t smart, that she should think. But she did not want to, not now. Maybe tomorrow.

“Did you enjoy these, itzia,” he broke the silence, his voice heavy and dripping with desire.

Her head bobbed up and down slowly. “They are delightful.” He held the plate to her once again and she grabbed a second corn cake and finished it off almost as quickly as the first. She was hungrier than she had let herself realized.

“What did you think of the city, Princess?” Namor asked her as he passed her a platter with fish that smelled citrusy. She grabbed a piece and popped it into her mouth. He did the same. She closed her eyes and shook her head as it hit her tongue. Everything here tasted so fresh and amazing, almost rivalling her favorite foods in Wakanda. She realized he was waiting for her answer.

“Honestly, I do not have the words to correctly capture what I felt, feel , after seeing your home. Awe. That is the closest word that can describe it and it is painfully incompetent to express the magnitude of it. I am in awe of the way your people exist and build community there, everything so beautiful and full of obvious joy.” “The architecture is unlike anything I have ever seen before. I saw things I've only have before seen in books!” excitement took over her voice, recounting her impressions of Talokan. “Oh and the children! They are so precious and adorable! I wish I could have reached out and pinched their chubby cheeks,” she mimed the motion and laughed.

“Oh , oh ,oh! And your throne! Bonkers!” She placed two fingers on either side of her temples and squinted at him, “It’s modeled after a megalodon’s jaw isn’t it ?”

“Not modelled. It is. I took him down in my youth, my first battle. I kept his jaw as a trophy and when I became of age, I turned him into my throne,” he explained as he ate. He poured some of the drink from the pitcher into her cup and his , then drank deeply, watching her eyes grow wide.

“ You killed a megalodon?! As a child?!” her hands and moved to her cheeks, her mouth open in shock as she blinked at him.

“More or less,” he leaned back into his chair and reached for one of the purple, savory cakes.

Her thoughts were interrupted by the hypnotic way his throat moves as he swallowed.
She wondered what it would feel like if she-

She shook herself back into the present.

“The palace? Did you build it?” She asked him.

He nodded slowly, “With help from my people, of course.” He was looking at her, amused at her expression as she processed the information.

“So,” she looked at nothing in particular, chewing at her cheek, drawing some conclusion, “ when you said you brought the sun to your people, you mean…” her voice trailed off, as her mind calculated. “You mean you... actually built that sun, from vibranium , yourself?” , she looked at him , eyes wide.

“Yes.”

She moved her head from side to side in wonder as she tried to figure out how he did it, but not coming up with an immediate answer. “But…how?” She asked finally.

He chuckled lowly and leaned forward, taking a sip and looking at her over the rim. When he set the mug down, he answered.

“You are not the only scientist in this hut, itzia,” he smirked. “ We only live under the water , we are not primitive.”

Embarrassment burned her face as she let out many apologies for how insulting her question came off, she meant no offense at all. She simply wanted to know how he was able to achieve such a feat.

“Trying to learn Talokan’s secrets, Princess?” when he smiled, there was no warmth there, just a veiled threat of danger should her answer be yes.

“NO!” She lowered her voice in pitch and volume, “No, not at all. It is occupational curiosity at its highest level. A week ago, I thought Wakanda was the only place with vibranium. Now I have seen with my own eyes, an entire light source, that gives heat, under the ocean! It’s a scientist’s wet dream!”

“Because it is under water?” he cocked his head slightly, drawing his brows together.

Attempting to stifle a giggle, she started to clarify, “No, a wet dream is a – “ she paused, just realizing what she was about to explain. “Its just a phrase us land dwellers use to refer to a dream that is about something greatly desired,” she finished awkwardly, clearing her throat. She reached for her cup and took a sit. A sweet cool liquid coated her throat and ended in warmth in her chest. There was alcohol in it. She wondered how potent it was.

Her dinner companion was looking at her curiously. “Are you saying you have a great dream of desire for my sastun?”

“No, I am saying the knowledge of the science behind the invention is what I desire.”

He leaned back and regarded her warily, saying nothing. She continued. He was withdrawing again. She wasn’t going to let him do this tonight.

Mocking his action from earlier she feigned serious interest in her nails as she said, “It’s fine. You don’t have to tell me. Keep your secrets. I’ll figure it out soon enough.” She stated cheekily.

He leaned forward again and raised a brow as a small smirk twisted his pink lips. “Oh?”

‘Gotchya, sucker.’

Shuri leaned back and raised her chin smugly, folding her arms. “Yes. Two days tops. I can figure out how you built the vibranium and even ways to make it better.”

His eyes narrowed. “There is no fault in my design,” he huffed.

“Of course not, oh mighty and brilliant king,” she gestured dramatically, the wine making her bold, “but like I always say just because something works does not mean it cannot be improved. I have to repeat this to the elders at least 100 times a year.” She rolled her eyes. “Left to them we would still be using smoke signals to communicate.”

He chuckled at that.

A comfortable silence fell between them. The wine in her cup was working its way through her, both warming and relaxing her. He spoke again, switching the subject.

“Did you find yourself satisfied with the standard of treatment given to the tiny surface dweller?” Namor asked lightly, but she knew better.

“I never doubted that she was being treated well, as I have been since our arrival here,” she responded carefully. “I only have deepest gratitude at all that you have provided while I have been here. The dresses are quite exquisite.”

“You are royalty,” he replies simply, “and you will be treated as such under my care. No harm will befall you.”

“My sincerest thanks, K’uk’ulkan,” she replies, demurely, batting her lashes.

Flutter. Breeze.

She decided to press her luck.

“Can I ask possibly strain your hospitality further?”

“Make your request, Princess. I make no promise to grant it.”

She chewed the inside of her cheek, thinking of how safest to ask. “I need to get word to my mother that I am safe, and that the scientist is alive and in good care. I need to let her know that I will be staying in Talokan as a show of good faith at my request and that I am being treated with the utmost consideration and respect.”

While he considered her petition, she held her breath and sent a silent prayer Bast that he would let her go near the surface so she could contact Wakanda and-

“Fine. I will send word to your mother. You can write the message and I will have one of my generals deliver it personally.”

Oh. She sat back. ‘Well, I guess that could work as well.’

“Thank you.” He nodded.

They resumed eating, and the conversation flowed easily. She told him about life in Wakanda, her favorite foods and the many projects she had completed for the advancements of her people. Likewise, he shared details on the daily life and traditions of the Talokanil. She realized how similar their two nations were. She saw so much potential for innovation in his nation that she was practically salivating at the possibilities. She decided to broach the subject as the handmaidens he had summoned to clear their table worked efficiently and only left behind their mugs and the wine.

“ You have treated me and Ms. Williams with so much graciousness, I would really love the opportunities to offer my services to you in thanks.”

“What kind of services?” He raised a brow.

“Well for starters, I was thinking about a security system that would cloak your vibranium deposits , making them undetectable- “

“There would be no need for that if it wasn’t for your scientist!” he snarled.

“She was not to blame. She is just a child whose only crime is wanting to prove those who doubted her wrong. Much like myself. Do you not think that if it wasn’t her, it would eventually been someone else? These colonizers will stop at nothing to get vibranium now that they know there’s so much of it they can’t have.”

“And who’s fault is that?” he spat , standing angrily. “Who told Wakanda to reveal itself to the rest of the world? There is only one way this will end, the same way it has always ended. These people will stop at nothing until they have stripped us bare of all our gods’ blessings.” He clenched his fist, centuries-old anger making his eyes daggers threatening to pierce her. “They have never stopped, will never stop, unless they are crushed out of existence!” He paced to stand in front of his muralled wall, gazing up at the figures before him. After a moment he turned to face her.

“I have lived many years and the answer for me now is more certain than it has ever been. They are irredeemable. The only solution is getting rid of them once and for all, since the previous alternative of staying hidden was eliminated by your brother’s foolish decision.”

Rage and liquid courage propelled Shuri out of her seat, around the table and in Namor’s face, teeth bared and unshed tears of fury glistening in her eyes.

“Don’t you dare speak of him!” she gritted out, jabbing his chest as hard as he could. “You have no right! No fucking right! You will never unhinge you jaw and speak of him again!” She jabbed him once more, hard enough to hurt her fingers but she didn’t care as anger and pain split her chest apart.

Suddenly her fingers were trapped in his grasp, and he pulled her against her chest. His scent, the heady mixture of a warm beach, hibiscus and his natural musk enveloped her. It made no sense but the fire of her anger transformed into the flames of something more salacious as he leaned forward slowly until his lips barely grazed the curve of ear.

“Or what, itzia?” he growled and the vibrations of his voice seemed to take all the moisture in her body with it to between her thighs.

She was paralyzed. Every nerve was at attention. All at once she was so aware of him. The heat from his body that singed her skin deliciously, how solid and unmovable he felt against her, the undeniable aura of raw power shimmering around him, his thumb gently rubbing the tattoo on the back of her hand.

Her chest heaved, her breaths coming in shorter, the motion causing her thin dress to rub her nipples which she knew were poking obnoxiously through dress. If she was hoping he would not notice she was fresh out of luck. He looked down between them at the dark peaks the sheer dress was doing fuck all to conceal. Deep in his chest, a rumble sounded, and he spun them around, pushing her back against the wall and drawing his body half against hers, one of his powerful legs between hers. He had one of her hands pinned up against the wall and the other was trapped in between the warmth of their bodies.

The urge to lick his neck was overwhelming.

He leaned forward again in her ear and pressed his lips closer this time. “ I am K’uKulkan, The feathered serpent, bringer of rain and wind. I have sworn an oath to you to keep you unharmed in my custody, but I will not be threatened or commanded in my home again. Do you understand, itzia?”

His voice was deep, full of authority and threat. She would never allow anyone to speak to her this way, like she was a delinquent child. So why did she just get so wet?

Eyes closed she nodded and whispered, “Yes K’uk’ulkan.” She gasped when he release the hand against the wall and grabbed her jaw gently, making her look up at his lips, his strong nose, and finally his darkened stare. In that moment, towering over her, he seemed every bit the god his people believed he was.

“Look at me, itzia and tell me, do you understand me?”

Inside Shuri’s brain , the gates on the restricted zone fell open and shackles came off. Her dark hound wanted to play.

Her bottom lip being caught by her teeth drew his attention as she nodded slowly and then smirked when he found her eyes again. She stood on her toes and leaned forward in kind and let her lips graze his ears as she repeated huskily, “Yes , K’uk’ulkan, I understand.”

She pulled back and saw something flicker in his eyes. She knew then that she was right about him. Her dark hound had met its match. A thrill travelled up her spine causing her to tremble. Her nipples tightened painfully, and she wished that he would give her relief.

Of course, she knew she should be continuing with their talks about their futures as two vibranium rich nations but Bast forgive her she did not give a fuck about that right now. Not when she was fighting for her life against the urge to grind herself against his thigh to get some friction and find release.

Flutter. flutter. Breeze.

Sick satisfaction made her smirk wider. He was just as excited as she was. The self-proclaimed god was affected by her and that pleased her. She would unpack that later but, in the moment, it made her feel powerful. She decided to push.

“I will never ask for forgiveness for defending my brother, though, please know this,” she challenged, eyes never leaving his.

He growled and lowered his face to hers. “There are other things I would rather you ask of me, itzia,” his gaze dropped to her lips and he let out a short laugh before his eyes bore into her once more. “And when you finally ask, it will be my pleasure to fulfill your every request.”

Shuri was on fire. Bast help her, if he did not touch her right now, she was going to explode.

So, she pushed again. “When?”

“I did not stutter , Princess,” he ducked his head and let his breath feather her jaw as he spoke. “I said when,” he inhaled deeply, then leaned back a shark-like grin split his face even as his eyes grew black with desire. “It is inevitable.”

“So you think,” she countered.

He raised a brow, smile growing sinister. The hand at her jaw moved to her waist as he shifted and brought the other to the back of her neck, pulling her head gently away from him so that her delicate neck was exposed. He leaned into her and scraped his lips and teeth against her skin.

A moan left her mouth as she convulsed and of its own volition her hips ground into his thigh.

Bast, yes.

The hand at her waist moved up to lightly caress her side, his fingertips burning her through her gown. He stopped just by the curve of her mound and let his fingers trace the swell, while he left ghost kisses on her neck. He was everywhere at once but still barely touching her and it was driving her mad. She tried to twist her body to push her breast fully into his palm, groaning in frustration when he pressed her into the wall to still her movements. He ceased his phantom touches and rested his forehead to hers. His breath, hot and salty, was feathering her face. She closed her eyes, anticipating his lips finding hers. Instead, she heard him say lowly,

“So I know, Princess.”

Shuri’s eyes flew open. He pushed off the against the wall and turned to away from her.

He walked toward the table where his mug sat, grabbing it and draining the last of the wine in there. He turned back to face her , where she was still stood, frozen against the murals.

“Thank you for accepting my invitation to eat with me, Princess,” he said politely.

Shuri began plotting his murder.

“I will be busy most of tomorrow during the day but I will ensure that my people make sure you want for nothing.”

She could start by plucking each feather from his stupid ankle wings one by one….

“Namora can escort you should you wish to go into Talokan while I am indisposed.”

…then she could cut them off and make him watch as she put them in an air fryer…

“I should be back by the evening, and we can speak again then,” he stated neutrally.

Whatever the sentence was for deicide she was completely fine with serving the time.

He extended a hand in her direction. “I enjoyed your company ,Princess.”

She extended a hand despite herself and shivered when he brought her it to his lips , kissing her knuckles.

He tucked her hand in the crook of his elbow. “Allow me to escort you back to your sleeping quarters , itzia.”

And just like that, much to Shuri’s chagrin, their playtime was over.

_____________________________________

Back in her cavern, hours after their dinner, sleep is eluding Shuri. She could say that it was because the hammock was uncomfortable but that would be a lie. Her nerves were pulled so tightly she felt that a rubber band that could snap at any moment. There was a deep ache in the core of her as she replayed the evening with Namor.

He was so infuriating. The way he could activate longing and painful need in her like no other was the thing of her nightmares. And so easily too. That was the part that bothered her the most. Previously, in her brief romantic tristes she was always the one in charge, the stronger personality, the other person content to operate by her rules.

Not Namor. He had hacked her body and she had no defenses around him, and much to her alarm, she found herself liking that fact. She wanted to know what came from her when she had no defenses left, when she did not have to hold back. Who could she be with him? She felt herself grow wet again thinking of the possibilities.

She glanced at the hammock next to her. The form under the blanket moved steadily up and down, breaths even. Riri was fast asleep, back facing her. Shuri turned to her side and slid her fingers under the blankets, under her short sleeping gown and between her slick folds, imagining it was his fingers there instead, his magical mouth, urging her, commanding her to come for a god. When she fell over the edge, she choked out his name in a desperate whisper.

-______________________________

She smelled so sweet, his mouth was watering. He needed to taste her. He sat her back on the hammock and nudged her knees apart. He did not have the restraint to tease her. No, he was famished. Like a man possessed he devoured her, vowing from that moment on, he no longer required food. Shuri would be his sustenance. He licked and sucked and kissed until she was a quivering mess screaming his name. He was hard as granite and leaking, her cries turning him to steel. Chaac, he hadn’t even touched himself yet.

Her slender, soft hands grasped him firmly and she looked at him, her gaze seductive and mischievous as kissed down his abdomen, in the corner of his hips where he was extremely sensitive , down further and further until ...

Gods above!

She licked the tip to taste him and she hummed in approval. He groaned and just barely prevented himself from driving into the back of her throat. She licked up and down his shaft and he had no shame in letting her know how good it felt. Words failed him however, when she closed her lips over him and she licked and sucked with enthusiasm. He hissed viciously , gripping the hammock tightly. He wasn’t going to last much longer.

She began to bob her head up and down, looking up at him, fully aware that she was pushing him to the brink, encouraged by his moans of pleasure. His muscles tensed in preparation for his release. He knew she sensed it too when she reached under and cupped his balls. He was done for. With a strangled cry, he jerked his hips as she sucked his soul from his body, the force of his orgasm tossing him to and fro, stars burst from behind his eyes and everything faded to black.

When he woke the next morning he found a mysterious sticky, wet spot on the blanket strewn across his waist.

Chapter Text

Wakanda

“Griot”

“Yes, Queen Mother.”

“Does the princess have her kimoyo beads?”

“No Queen Mother she does not.”

Ramonda clutched the fabric of her elegant green and gold gown with one hand and places the other over her heart, a slight tremor to her fingers.

Her lip quivered. It was hard to breathe, a quiet terror threatened to spill, black and thick like unrefined oil, over her brain and down her spine. She closed her eyes and inhaled. She could not fall apart. She was the lynchpin holding her country together. Despite what others thought, she was not deaf to the whispers, the secret conversations about her country in the halls of the fake civility they called world councils. The vultures waiting and watching, the hyenas nipping at her heels, hungry to steal what was hers and now, her pride, her gem, the last remaining one from her crown had just been snatched from her!

“Griot , do you have the last recording before the princess was kidnapped?”

“The princess was not kidnapped, your Majesty, she requested to be taken.”

“What do you mean she requested to be taken?”

A projection appeared before the grieving monarch which showed her daughter and a massive blue man, with a headpiece mimicking the bones of a hammerhead shark, listen as Shuri announces her identity and offers herself to be taken. 

“Foolish, foolish girl,” her mother whispers, shaking her head. She watches as the blue man places something over Shuri’s face and gasps as she falls unconscious and is carried over the bridge and into the water below.

The queen scans the bridge on the recording to find no sign of Okoye. The hand at her heart clenches into a fist, her fear morphing into rage.

 Rage at the general who failed her. Rage at the gods for not saving her son. Rage at Thanos for robbing her of time with her children. Rage at the man who killed her husband. Rage at her husband for his secrets that led to crisis. Rage at her brother-in-law’s treason that almost crumbled her nation. Rage at the colonizers trying to steal everything from her. Rage at the cosmos that would show her no mercy!

And now, after all this loss, this …mutant flying fish… comes and takes the one thing she had left to hold dear. The only family she had remaining! 

He at least, had the decency to be to present in this plane to feel the full force of her rage. Or the misfortune. She had much rage to spare.

“Griot, prepare the Royal Talon for departure to Haiti.”

“Yes, your majesty.”

                                                         ________________________________________________________

Namor rarely feels shame. He had no reason to, he is a god. But when he had arisen that morning and witnessed his emission on his blanket, a result of his dreams of the princess, he did feel embarrassed when the handmaidens took the soiled thing away to launder. 

The feeling did not remain long however, quickly replaced by a feeling of triumph when recounting the events of the night before. It would only be a matter of time before she would seek him out. She desired him, physically at least. He had heard her gasps, he felt the heat in her touch, smelled her desire. But that was not enough for him. Not anymore. Now, it was important to him to also have her heart, as he realized last night, she was creeping into his. And that made their current political situation a bit more complicated. 

He would never put anything or anyone ahead of his people. The scientist had to be dealt with. However, he knew that if he dispatched of the American it would ruin any kind of future alliance or relationship with the princess. He rubbed his chin, scratching at his beard in thought, as he got ready for the day. 

The princess proposed her staying in the Talokan in exchange for the life of the scientist. She wanted him to release the American to the Wakandans but that was too risky. He was not certain that they would not send her back to her country as they seemed to have an unusual affinity for that colonizing nation, for reasons he could not understand. 

No, he would simply have to explain to the princess that he could not allow her companion to leave his custody. Besides, he grinned to himself, if she was so concerned for the scientist she could stay and oversee her treatment in Talokan… indefinitely. 

His mind wandered back to the events of the night before. It had taken every ounce of self-control he possessed not to take her against his mural and teach her a lesson in submission when she had yelled at him. In all his years as a king and a god no one had dared raise their voice at him, much less put their hands on him in anger or give him orders. 

Until her.

 Knowing his power, knowing that he had her life in his hands, knowing that the scientist was at his mercy, she had come at him with the ferocity of a jungle cat, fire and fury. 
Of course, he could not allow such an affront to go unchecked but her audacity, her indomitable spirit had earned her his respect. 

He made his way to the cenote that led to Talokan to attend to his duties for the day, but the princess of Wakanda had made a home in his thoughts. 

She was gracious and polite with him but didn’t show deference nor did she shy away from teasing or challenging him. It was… refreshing. With her he could forget for a moment that the weight of a nation rest on his shoulders. Her lack of reverence for him was slightly annoying but more than that, it was exciting. 

There was a moment, when he attempted to impress upon her the authority of his godhood, where he saw something flicker in her eyes. It was not fear. No, it was the opposite. She was not the type to back down, but rather she… smiled, sinisterly at that, as if he were some foolish antelope that had walked into the trap of a crafty lioness. Something dark inside her called to his own shadowy proclivities and he had no choice but to answer, exhilarated to find a fellow soul of duality. 

The gods themselves had held together his composure, for he had been aching to drive himself so deeply into her that his hut would crumble around them and not stop until he was certain he had impregnated her twice over. His want for her had moved into need. He had entertained the affections of supplicants before, but they would never be more than brief dalliances. 

None consumed his thoughts like her. No one’s mere scent had made his mouth water the way hers did. What he felt for the princess was undeniably new and all-consuming. She felt…no, they felt inevitable. This was not simply a lust of the flesh. This was a call of destiny and he would be foolish to ignore the path set before him by the powers that governed the heavens and earth and realms below. 

He had resigned himself to a life of duty, in service and protection of his children, never to find a true equal among his people. Yet ever since he observed her in Talokan, the way she played with the children, her excitement over all he had allowed her to see, he had been bombarded with visions, snapshots of her, next to him on the throne, ruling over Talokan, belly swollen with his seed while suckling a beautiful brown babe with her eyes and his winged ankles. 

He wasn’t yet sure if these images were born of his lonely heart’s desire or glimpses of a future ordained by the gods themselves. In truth, it did not matter to him. He would find out soon enough.

He forced himself to push the princess from his thoughts as his general approached with the daily report. He had much to attend to, but he would be motivated by the promise of her presence at the end of the day. 

He smiled to himself, drawing alongside Attuma. Yes, he would be very motivated today indeed.

The smile soon faded upon hearing his general’s report of an oil spill near the gulf. It was the second one this season and they had yet to fully recover from the last one. 

Many of his people had grown sick, especially those who lived outside of the capital. Their food supply became tainted, and their whales grew listless. The children and elderly were often the most susceptible as their immune systems were more vulnerable. 

His chest heaved with barely contained fury. These occurrences were growing more frequent as the surface governments became less concerned about environmental protection, spurred by avarice to bleed each corner of the earth dry of every drop of resources, all for their own selfish consumption and accumulation of wealth they could not possible enjoy in their short, unremarkable lives.

His knuckles closed tightly around his spear as he darted through the water towards the area of crisis, Attuma not far behind. The surface world was fast losing the privilege of his patience and mercy.

                                  _____________________________________________________________________________________________________________

“Princess?”

Shuri woke with a start. She cracked open one eye and stared into concerned brown eyes. 

“Riri.” 

She groaned and forced herself to sit up on the hammock and rubbed her eyes open.

“Late night with the fish stick?”

Shuri’s eyes flew open. “Don’t call him that here, are you crazy?!” she hissed under her breath looking at the Talokanil who were standing guard.

Riri raised her hands in front of her defensively. “Alright, alright I got it, jeez.”

“I fell asleep before you came in last night. I tried to wait for you,” the young scientist announced. “I guess you guys had a looot of negotiating going on,” she quipped, rolling her neck slightly and folding her arms. 

The princess swiped a hand down her face and let out a heavy sigh. She hoped she did not look as guilty as she felt. Technically, some negotiation did happen; an agreement to keep Talokan a secret, to collaborate in security and defense efforts, a possible cultural exchange in the future; but very little of it related directly to Riri. They had gotten… distracted. 

Her face grew hot with shame remembering the sounds that left her when his lips grazed her neck. The way he could get her riled up so easily was beyond irritating. Certainly, he must be feeling smug thinking that he had made her swoon like a every other woman who had the misfortune of meeting his annoyingly handsome self. Stupid sky fish.

 She was determined to have her revenge. He would pay for his comments about her brother. He would pay for distracting her from her objectives. And he would certainly pay for awakening the ravenous beast inside her and leaving it unsated. She swore it to Bast, to the ancestors, hell even to Hanuman; she would make him pay.

“Hellooo, earth to the princess,” Riri waved her arms in front of her face, breaking her from her vengeful ideations.

“Um, yes, we-… I got to discuss quite a few things with the king and I think I am making headway,” she said, avoiding Riri’s eyes as she stood and walked over to Xelha who had come in a few moments before with breakfast for her.

Riri pursed her lips and tapped her foot impatiently, “Well? Is he going to let me go?” she almost screeched, spreading her arms wide at her question. 

“I am still working on it, but he agreed for me to send a message to my mother to let your mother know that you are okay. I am supposed to meet him again tonight and I won’t leave until he agrees to let you go. I swear it.” 

Shuri walked back to the scared girl and grabbed her hands in hers, her eyes pleading. “ I will find a way to get you out of here, I just need some more time.” 

“I sure hope so. I’m tired of these people looking at me like I’m fish food,” she looked warily at the Talokanil at the entrance way, spears in hand. 

Shuri released her to rubbed her temples and squeezed her eyes shut against a headache that was threatening to overtake her. Maybe she should try eating. 

She went over to Xelha; the hand maiden had been regarding them with open curiosity. When Shuri’s eyes went to the bowls of fruit and what looked like porridge the young woman gestured to the meal, “Yuk’ul?” she asked, raising her brows at the princess.

Shuri guessed she was asking her if she wanted to eat so she responded, “Yes, yuk’ul, thank you”, nodding to her. She smiled as the young woman giggled and clapped at her clumsy attempt at communication. It struck Shuri that she should try to learn the language of Talokan since she might be here for a while. 

She picked up a bowl of the porridge, the rich aroma making her stomach growl. She held the bowl to her lips and drank deeply. It was perfectly warm, spiced with cinnamon and ginger, the base starchy, viscous and earthy but in the best, most unique way. It reminded her of tania pap from back home in Wakanda but not quite. Still, it, like everything she had tried since her arrival was delicious. 

She wondered where they cultivated their food. Did they plant on land and transport it underwater or did they have gardens in the ocean floor?

The possibilities excited her. She made a note to ask Namor that evening. Her pulse quickened at the thought of him, and she hated it. She decided not to dwell on him anymore than she had to and finished her breakfast. 

At that moment Namora walked in spear in hand, sour look on her face. She glared at the foreigners as if she was trying to melt them with her eyes, not bothering to hide her disdain for the two. Even Xelha seemed to shrink in her fierce presence. 

She pointed to Shuri, “Chukpaxten,” she said curtly and motioned her head for Shuri to follow her out the cavern.  She rubbed Riri’s shoulders reassuringly on her way out and returned Xelha’s smile and nod. 

She was not excited as she followed Namora to Namor’s grotto because that would be dumb, and she was not dumb. She clenched and unclenched her hands and shook them out. She was cold, she told herself, she was not anxious. Not at all. 

They entered the god’s living quarters and Shuri looked around, listening for signs of the owner’s presence. Her heart didn’t sink when she realized he was not present because that would be ridiculous. 

Namora pointed her to his table where there was laid out a piece of parchment and what looked like a quill inside an inkwell. She wondered if he knew about stationery. Namora muttered something she couldn’t understand, pointing to the paper and then to the princess. 

Oh. It clicked and Shuri realized that she was meant to write the letter on the parchment. 

She sat on the chair that Namor had the night before and began to compose a carefully worded letter to her mother.

            __________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

As much as she yearned to go into Talokan once more with Namora, she decided it was best that she stay with Riri. The young American was understandably a bundle of nerves and anxiety; Shuri felt that it was her responsibility to comfort her as much as she could given the circumstances. Or at least, distract her with idle chatter. 

After she had completed the letter, Namora sealed it with wax and stamped a sigil of a shell with a pearl in the middle, and summarily dismissed Shuri. When she returned to where Xelha and Riri were waiting she found them getting ready to go into the pool outside to bathe. She decided to join them and asked the handmaiden to teach them the words of items around them. 

Shuri had never heard their native tongue before, but she was guessing that this an earlier version of Yucatec Maya. It was percussive and somewhat guttural but beautiful and expressive. Xelha would giggle whenever they messed up on a word, especially Riri, but patiently repeated until they pronounced it to her satisfaction. 

When they finished bathing , they changed into new clothes that a second handmaiden brought into the cavern, Shuri’s markedly more elaborate than Riri’s.

“Someone’s got a favorite,” she said pointedly, pursing her lips comically. Shuri’s face heated. 

“I’m sure it’s only because they think they need to treat me according to my title, it’s no big deal.” 

She smoothed her hands against the strings of pearls and jade that hung at the front the bodice of the soft blue dress she was given. It was a lot fancier than what she wore normally but the tailoring was immaculate. It fit her perfectly. 

“I dunno,” Riri singsong-ed mischievously, “Ole boy took you to his home, gave you a personal tour of his city, private dinner in his quarters.”  Shuri blushed as her charge continued.

“If this weren’t a matter of life and death, I would think our guy with the wings was tryna to get some,’’ she dropped her head and looked up at Shuri, wiggling her eyebrows. 

Xelha looked between the two outsiders, not understanding their words but finding the exchange amusing nonetheless, a small smile on her azure face behind the mask. 

“Don’t be ridiculous. I am trying to negotiate your release and forge an alliance if possible. This isn’t Love Island,” Shuri tried to chide her.

“You guys know about Love Island in Wakanda?!” Riri squealed.

Shuri twisted her face into an expression that said ‘Come on.’

Riri laughed. “What am I saying, of course you guys have cable. Are you watching this season yet?”

“What do you meeeeaaaan? Of course, I am!”

The American squealed excitedly once more, sat in the hammock and kicked her feet joyfully. 

Xelha giggled at their mannerisms despite not knowing what was making them so excited. 

They both turn to her and then looked at each other, telegraphing that they wanted to share their newly discovered shared interest in trashy reality dating shows with the Talokanil.
Shuri looked around the cave until she found what she was looking for, seizing a loose piece of limestone off the cavern floor. 

Understanding her intention Riri looked around and found one herself. The guards at the door looked alarmed and started in their direction slowly, tense. 

Quickly, Shuri stoop to the floor and drew a crude picture of an island and pointed to it looking at Xelha.

“Peetlu’umo?” the handmaiden offered to the princess.

“Does that mean island? Peetlu’umo?” Shuri parroted earnestly.

Xelha pointed at the drawing on the floor and repeated, “Peetlu’umo.”

Riri clapped returning with a larger piece of limestone than Shuri’s. 

“Pete Lou emu? Does that mean island?” she asked Shuri, joining them on the floor.

“I think so,” Shuri replied. “Now, how do we draw love?” she pondered.

Riri drew a big heart and clutched her chest, making a dreamy expression. Xelha widened her eyes in confusion. Shuri chuckled and noticed the guards had relaxed back into their stations. 

“I don’t think they have the heart symbol down here, Riri,” she told the scientist. 

“Shit. You’re right. How do we translate love though?”

Both young women pondered for a moment. Riri shot up suddenly.

“I got it!” With that she turned around and embraced herself, rubbing her hands up and down her back, swaying her hips, mimicking being caressed by someone else while making out.

Shuri chimed in, hugging herself tightly then using her fingers to imitate lips and made kissing sounds. Xelha’s eyes widened even further and then she threw her head back and let out peels of gurgled laughter behind her mask. Riri and Shuri looked at each other and succumbed to laughter with her. 

When she calmed down somewhat, they repeated their actions and raised their arms in inquiry for the word for their actions. 

Xelha furrowed her brow in thought for a moment and her face brightened, “Yaakunaj!”

“Yaakunaj, yeah let’s go with that!” Riri exclaimed. 

The two surface dwellers proceeded to spend the next few hours using a mixture of charades and stick drawings to try to explain the general plot points of the wildness that was reality television to the Talokanil.

______________________________________________________________________________________

There was no way for her to keep track of time in the depths, but she was guessing it was late. And she was irritated. 

The guards had changed twice, and Xelha had left her and Riri a couple hours after they had been served dinner. This time the handmaiden had shared the meal with them, teaching them the words for each food item and learning words in English. The visitors taught her some hand-clapping games and they all convulsed into giggles at the slightest missed gesture, probably due to their generous consumption of the wine they had with dinner that Xelha called balché. 

It wasn’t long before the spirit had them yawning, Riri was the first to crawl into her hammock and begin snoring loudly almost immediately. A giggling Xelha gave Shuri an opened palmed gesture that the Talokanil gave each other. A broad smile spread across her face, pleased when Shuri returned the gesture before the handmaiden left them for the night.

With no one to talk to, Shuri retreated to her hammock and allowed her irritation to take root. He had promised they would meet and despite herself she had been looking forward to being in his presence all day. She had so many questions for him, so many things she wanted him to answer about Talokan that no one else she had met so far could, language barrier and all. But he had lied to her. He had not kept his word and she was not going to forgive him for it. He had made all this fuss about swearing oaths and yet he could not keep a simple promise to meet her this evening to discuss the terms of their alliances. 

Shuri tossed in the hammock and huffed. She knew why she was so irked, but she could not bring herself to say admit that she wanted another opportunity to feel the electricity that seemed to spark whenever they were a little too close to each other. 

He had awakened something dreadfully primal within her; a part of her that she had been aware existed but had left unexplored, afraid of what she was capable of if she ever ventured out of those shadows. She had decided that this was a secret part of her that should never be shared with anyone, content to let it roam in the safety of her imagination but never take flesh in the physical realm. In her brain she could restrain it, restrict it but she was not so certain what would happen if she allowed it free; and if she was honest, she was ashamed of that side of her.

She had once cracked the door open with a young man from the Mining Tribe who had expressed interest in her frequently. They had been at a party with their peers where the alcohol was flowing freely, and she had had a very long day trying to convince the elders to expand the Design Group’s budget for testing new sonic cannons for the Sunbird fleet. 

They had snuck off to a supply closet and an intoxicated Shuri just wanted to work out her frustration somehow. It had started regularly enough, two tipsy teenagers groping each other. But as things escalated and her blood grew hot when he placed his fingers inside her, she clutched at his neck roughly and whispered crude things into his ear. 

Thinking that he was teasing her when his movements slowed, she slapped him across the face and barely registered his shock when he stopped what he was doing completely and made some awkward excuse about needing to use the bathroom and left her there, in the dark closet confused and embarrassed. Since that day she decided to keep her baser desires to herself. Until Namor.

She could not provide a scientific explanation on how she knew but she was almost certain that he played in the same sandbox that she did. When she had been ready to rip his throat in rage at his careless words about her brother, she saw him grow excited at her fury and he met it with his intensity, beginning their dance for power. 

Throughout the day her mind would leave the conversations with Riri and Xelha to imagine what playing with him would feel like. She could almost guarantee that with him she could be reckless yet safe, give up the reigns to the tightly held control she had to have as a Royal and last remaining heir and explore the edges of her with reckless abandon. He was so vast that she could gallop at top speed in any direction and never touch the boundary. The space and shelter she needed to come apart with reckless abandon, he could provide.  With him she wouldn’t need to compartmentalize her feelings. Anger and grief, sorrow and desire could all exist together and be expressed as one. He would not run or shame her. He could handle it. He could handle her. 

Frustrated at herself and her unproductive thoughts she got out of the hammock. Her body was too tense to sleep. Water always relaxed her. She didn’t have her kimoyo beads to put on rain sounds so she made her way to their bathing pool. The guards did not even try to stop her when she exited the cavern, only positioned themselves so they could observe her journey down the path to the water.

She sat on the edge, hiking up her nightgown so that her legs could be submerged in the warm water. She wondered what the source of the heat was, guessing it was some sort of hydrothermal vent below the surface. With gritted teeth she kicked at the water. She wouldn’t need to guess if only a certain ocean king had been present to answer her questions as planned. 

She furrowed her brows and began kicking her legs in the water rhythmically, her heels hitting the stone sides on the pool was strangely comforting, a tiny outlet for her annoyance. Tomorrow, she promised herself, she would give him a piece of her mind. She would thank him for allowing her to contact her mother however he needed to know that she would not tolerate being stood up again. It was disrespectful and she did not tolerate any disrespect while she was a guest in Talokan. Yes, she had to make sure he knew that she was not to be messed with and that even though she was her her time was still valuable and not his to-

“Princess.”

Shuri’s legs still as her spine stiffened, recognizing the deep, husky voice that had just called out to her. Her skin prickled as she turned slowly to face the object of her ire. 

“Don’t “Princess” me, Namor. You promised me that we would meet tonight and yet I get no word from you about-“she stops abruptly and gasps at the sight before her.

Scrambling from the pool she takes in his bedraggled appearance. His eyes are weary, and he looks ill at ease. His hair was disheveled, and black streaks covered his chest, shoulders, forearms and thighs. As she got closer, she saw that there was some of the inky substance in his beard and hairline. It smelled like… petroleum. 

“What happened?” she rasped, fearing the answer.

“I was coming to apologize for not being able to meet with you as promised, Princess,” he said, ignoring her inquiry.

“Namor,” she said more forcefully, “what happened?”

“Something came up and I could not tear myself away in time. I do not make it a habit of breaking my promises and I am sorry.”

“Bast dammit, just tell me what happened!” she bellowed, causing him to raise a brow.

“It is nothing you need to concern yourself with, Princess. I am handling it. I merely came to give my apologies and bid you a good night’s rest, not add to worries to your dreams.” He turned his back to head back to his grotto, tension clearly read in the way his body moved, muscles drawn tight. 

Shuri blinked for a moment, stunned at his dismissal. Then she caught herself and hissed. Stupid sea pigeon!

“Hey! Wait! Namor!” she called after him following behind him. 

He was already entering his hut by the time she spotted him. She ran in his direction without a second thought. 

“Hey! I know you heard me,” she threw at his broad, stained back. 

He did not turn to face her. “Go to bed, Princess. We will speak in the morning.”

“No.”

He looked to the ceiling and sighed. He did not have the energy for insolence tonight.

“You dare defy an order from the king?” he turned to face her, his eyes boring into her.

She didn’t flinch. “You’re not my king,” she shrugged.

He growled and stalked towards were near the entrance. “Princess I do not enjoy repeating myself.”

“Neither do I,” she leveled, taking a step towards him, hands clasped in front of her, shoulders squared and chinned raised to him defiantly. “I’ll ask one last time, what happened?”

They stared each other down until the god-king grunted and spun away from her towards his desk and began to remove his neck jewelry, the smaller necklaces and then the large gold and vibranium piece. 

“Since you are so pressed to know, your precious surface dweller friends, the Americans,” he spat, voice full of venom, “spilled their oil, once again, into the ocean carelessly, poisoning my waters and everyone in it!” 

Shuri gasped. He continued.

“These people, that you are so determined to convince me are good are nothing but a plague to the earth and the planet would benefit from removal of their cursed presence on it!” he hissed, banging the table, fissures appearing upon impact. 

Shuri winced but she did not shrink away from his wrath. Instead, she drew closer to him. He watched her as she came to stand before him, her scent wafting up to him. He inhaled and allowed it to abate his anger. She reached out to grab his wrist and pulled his arm toward her.

“Let me help you,” she whispered quietly her eyes asking him for permission. He cocked his head slightly, brows knitting together, not certain of her request. 

He inhaled sharply when she came closer and grabbed at the vibranium bracer on his arm, removing it and then laid it carefully on the table. She took his other hand and repeated the action, the sound of their breathing all to be heard inside the dimly lit hut.

When she dropped to her knees to remove his shin guards, he reached out to stop her.

“Princess, you don’t have to-“

She stayed his hand and shook her head. She looked up at him, unshed tears in her eyes.

“Let me help you,” she said slowly, emphasizing each word.

He blinked twice, emotion causing a lump in his throat, and after a moment nodded.

She reached behind his calf to loosen the clasps of the brace of his left leg, her fingers sending sparks of electricity anywhere they grazed his skin. He swallowed hard as she moved on to the next shin guard. Loosening it she stood and placed the guard on the table next to the rest of his armor. 

She met his eyes once more and for a moment he got lost in all he read in hers. There was sadness there, not of her own but for him, understanding of the weight of duty, of the responsibility to protect his people from this newest threat, empathy for his anger and desire for revenge. Deeper than that he saw a need to comfort him in her and he was moved. This was something new. 
He was the place of comfort for his people. Whenever there was fear or threat, they came to him to allay their fears, to give words of strength and assurance that all would be well. Never had there been anyone who saw his burden and wished to help him bear it. 

Something warm spread through his chest. He broke their gaze and walk over to a small stand that held some bachte. He poured some in a goblet and handed it to her.

“Aren’t you going to have some?” she asked, clutching the vessel to her chest.

“Allow to wash off the stench of the day, itzia, and I will join you, yes?”

She nodded and took a sip from her glass. “Okay”

He removed his belt and walked towards his private pool at the back of his hut.

“Please,” he said over his shoulder, “make yourself comfortable while I am gone, Princess.”

________________________________________________________________________________

 
He made haste to cleanse himself thoroughly, painfully aware of the woman in the other room waiting for him. 

He lathered himself, once, twice, three times, until he no longer bore the stench of the petroleum that had clung to him as he attempted to move it away from his waters the best he could. It was tedious and painstaking work, even with his hydrokinetic abilities. The pollutant stuck to his skin made it difficult to breathe and forced him to exert more energy than he would normally. His anger did not make it any easier to be efficient in his efforts. He sighed deeply and submerged himself completely, rinsing his hair and beard roughly.

He did not want her to smell the stink of the petroleum or his murderous thoughts. Not when she had braved his fury and in return offered softness. He closed his eyes, heart clenching recalling her eyes, gazing at him with such openness and acceptance, no judgement just a willingness to be there, be present to bear witness to his emotions. 

Minutes before, he was ready to lay waste to the surface world once and for all, tired of their blatant disregard for anything that did not serve them. He was prepared to tell the princess that he was no longer willing to work with Wakanda if they sought to protect the American. But after she saw him and reached out to him, defied him, so that she could remain to provide him support despite the storm of his temper and weariness, he was sure that he would fight Chaac himself for the moon if she asked it of him.

He stepped out of the water and dried off quickly, dressing in a cream and green colored tunic. He raked a hand though his damp curls and walked back into his hut to find the princess. 

His breath caught his throat, finding her perched at his windowsill, one knew drawn up to her chest, the other dangling as she gazed out the window at the water of the pool that led to Talokan. The dim light illuminated her beautiful smooth, dark skin and his hands longed to envelop her. He seared this image of her in his brain and vowed to paint her on his walls as a goddess, because he was certain no mere mortal could possess such goodness as she. 

Sensing his presence, she whipped her head in his direction and offered him a tentative smile. 

“Do you feel better?” she asked shyly, concern coloring her voice.

He was moved. “Yes, Princess I do.” He moved to pour himself some wine and join her where she sat. She shifted to give him space beside her, looking at his profile. 

He drank deeply and turned slightly to face her.

“Thank you,” he began, “for earlier. You did not have to do that.”

She shrugged and small smile on her lips. “I wanted to,” she replied simply.

“Thank you,” he reached out to find her free hand and squeezed. “For wanting to.”

She let out a small chuckle and intertwined their fingers. His heart felt like she had wrapped her fingers around it instead, spreading her warmth. 

Neither spoke for a while but drank together in a comfortable silence.

She broke it first.

“If you could indulge me, I’d really like to know what happened today with the oil. I might be able to help.”

He shook his head. “It is my responsibility to keep the oceans and all who dwell therein healthy and safe, Princess.” He rubbed lazy circles over the back of her palm. 

“We are allies, are we not K’uk’ulkan?” 

He preened at hearing her use his name. “Are we?” he asked teasingly

“I would like us to be. An alliance, like any relationship, is built on trust and is mutually symbiotic. I hope we can begin to trust each other. Please, tell me what happened.”

He looked at her, reading nothing but sincerity on her face. He sighed and unclasped their hands as he regaled her with all that had happened during the day. That a tanker had “accidentally” released gallons of crude oil into the ocean the night before and the affected area spread far into his domain and would affect his people soon inevitably, infecting them with pollution sickness. 

Those not affected with pollution sickness sometimes fell ill due to ingesting seafood that had been poisoned by the spill. Not only that but the orcas and whales they used for transportation were affected long after the spill was cleaned up, their migration patterns and reproductive cycles disrupted. 

The princess listened intently as he spoke, her face telegraphing every emotion she felt with each new piece of information she was receiving. When he finished his play by play of the events of the day. She stayed quiet and then said,

“You haven’t eaten yet.”

He was taken aback and blinked in confusion. “What?”

“You have been trying to move the oil away from since morning. You have not had time to eat yet. You should eat.”

He chuckled, not mockingly, but in wonder at the care that she was displaying, not for the Feathered Serpent god and king of Talokan, Wakanda’s new tentative ally, but for K’uk’ulkan the man. After hearing all that had transpired, her primary concern was his lack of sustenance for the day. He reached for her hand once more. 

“You are a marvel, Princess,” he lowered his head slightly to be on the level of her gaze and offered her a crooked smile he hoped was charming. “I ate in the palace with Attuma before surfacing here. Your concern for me is truly appreciated and welcomed.” He raised her hand to his lips and kissed each knuckled softly, relishing in the soft gasp that left her lips. Oh, how he wished to swallow them.

“I can help you, you know,” she said quietly, hand still trapped in his. 

“What do you mean, itzia?”

He envied her tongue that darted out, moist and pink, to lick her lips quickly. 

“I might be able to come up with a way to get rid of the oil in the ocean. I mean I have a theory in my head that I’d need to test but I am pretty sure I it would work. And with Ms. Williams helping we could get this taken care of even faster. The only thing I would need from you, is to source the materials that we would need.” She poked him in the ribs in jest 

“ I am sure that that is light work for the mighty K’uk’ulkan,” she grinned at him.

He regarded her curiously. “Why?” he asked softly.

Shuri blinked. “Why what?”

He titled her chin up slightly to meet his gaze. He wanted to read her eyes when she answered. “Why do you want to help? This is not your problem.”

Her eyes searched his for a moment before she answered, voice thick with emotion.

“You showed me your home and it is unimaginably beautiful. The thought of your lovely people being harmed, suffering because of the carelessness of others, the children, I-“ she paused as a tear escaped and rolled down her cheek. He brushed it away gently, in awe of her compassion.

She continued, “I cannot bear the thought of them paying the price for someone else’s action with their life. I know you hate the surface world and right now you have every right to, I cannot blame you. But not all of us are bad. Some of us only want to help others.”

She set her glass down and took the hand at her chin into both of her own, her face earnest.

“I am not good at this diplomacy thing, K’uk’ulkan. My tongue has no chain, and my words are sharp. I may not be great at politics, but I am excellent at inventing things to help people so please, I beg, let me help you and the people of Talokan. Let me find a way for you to never have to worry about finding a solution to this kind of problem again,” she implored him.

“And what do you expect in return?” he asked, testing

She released his hand, drawing back, offended. 

“In return? Nothing! Your people face sickness and possible death, and I can help! Why would I want anything in return? Do you think so little of me?” her voice had begun to raise with each sentence.  She got up from next to him, incensed. She leaned against the wall and folded her arms, irritated at his question.

He stood slowly, placing his cup next to hers and stood in front of her. 

“You truly only wish to help and want nothing in return?”

Shuri threw her hands in the air, exasperated.

“Bast above! I know you have a low opinion of surface dwellers but not all of us are money hungry monsters. Some of us are decent human beings,” she punctuated the last few words with pokes to his chest. 

“And you wish to help because you are a decent human being?” he narrowed his eyes at her, even though he knew the answer.

“Yes! YES! Bast, hear my cry. I help people. That is what I do. It is who I am. I want to help Talokan, no strings attached, even if their king is an insufferable, arrogant, unbearable- “

His lips crashed against hers suddenly, swallowing the rest of her sentence.

He heard her make a small noise of surprise that turned into a soft moan as she got over her initial shock and then melted into him.

He snaked one hand around her waist and another at the back of her neck drawing her flush against his body, groaning at how good she felt on him. Every nerve in his body was ignited and all his senses were flooded with her. A growl rumbled in his chest when he felt her press her body against his even closer, sliding her hands up into his hair and tighten, pulling him deeper into the kiss.

She tasted of honey and cinnamon, her lips softer than he had imagined in his dreams as he traced his tongue along the bottom one and sucked gently. Her groan lit his brain on fire and his knees almost buckled when she copied his actions, the swipe of her tongue on his bottom lip sending sensation straight to his loins. She deepened the kiss her tongue asking for entry that he gave gladly, grunting in pleasure as their tongues danced and fought for dominance. 

Her tongue continued its bold exploration of his, shivers travelling up his spine when she licked the roof of his mouth and then sucked gently on his tongue. He ached for her, his tights under his tunic had grown uncomfortably tight. He knew she could feel her effect on him and when she pulled away for air he saw her eyes were hazy with the same longing as his. 

“I accept your offer to stay in Talokan, itzia,” he rasped before he claimed her lips again. 

Chapter Text

“I accept your offer to stay in Talokan, itzia.”

 He kissed her deeply, roughly, pouring all the emotions she brought to the surface in his body into their kiss, possessing her mouth, stealing her breath. His entire world shrunk down to the soft, lithe body of this amazing woman locked in his embrace. So kind, so full of compassion and warmth. 

Also, she had very curious hands. Hands that were charting a course all over his body and if she did not slow down, he was going to drill her straight through the wall….

…She wanted, no, needed to touch him, all of him. He was oh so warm, so taut and firm, Bast above, and his lips! Shuri’s eyes rolled to the back of her head, relishing in the taste of his kiss. 

She had been so frightened when he finally came to her, disheveled and visibly tired, covered in thick, black crude oil, a murderous rage in his eyes that she could tell he had tried to mask for her sake. When he finally told her what had kept him away from her that day, her heart broke for him, for his people, for the magnificent mammals they shared the ocean with. It was so clear to her the enormous weight of his burden, the immense responsibility his role as god-king to his people was to him. And he shouldered all of it, without complaint and all alone. 

Her baba had had his family, her brother had had their umama, her, and Nakia, her mother had her and the Dora Milaje. But him, K’uk’ulkan, lived as a mutant, as one of one, a protector that gave his entire being to his people, leaving nothing for himself. 

In that moment she wanted to give him something that was just for him, give him attention and care that was his, not for his title, or his role, not from a place of service or reverence. What she had tried to give him was an act of customized tenderness, personal, in understanding of the load that he carried without asking for anything in return. 

Her admiration of his dedication fueled her to deepen their kiss, her fingers dragging sensually up his spine, to his neck and into the damp softness of his dark curls. When her nails slid over his scalp, the moan he let out made her fuse her pelvis to his, grinding against him, creating the most delicious friction. She shuddered. 

The coolness of the wall near the window was a pleasant  contrast to his heat as he pressed them into the wall with a grunt, stilling her hips, still kissing her fervently.  Curious, she ran her hands lightly, from the back of his muscled thigh, over his behind, up the small of his back, up along the side of his ribs.

With a sharp intake of breath, he tore away from their kiss and rested his forehead on the wall behind them, body rigid. When her hands continued their pilgrimaged of his body, spending a time at his heaving chest to admire, stroke, squeeze. She brushed one nipple and he muttered a string of violent words that she could not understand, unsure if they were a curse or prayer.

One hand cradled the back of his neck, his labored breathing in her ear echoing the pulse at her core. The other continued its travels from his chest down his solid abdomen, rubbing up and down, leisurely, pleased when she felt the fabric of her nightgown bunch in his fist at her thigh as he tried to gain his composure. Why she took that as a challenge, only Bast herself would know.

He was nipping at her neck then, dragging his lips against the delicate skin behind her ears, sending delightful sensations down her spine. She let her fingers trace below his belly button, cursing the tunic getting in the way of her feeling his actual flesh. Of all the days for him not be his usual embarrassingly half-naked self! 

She kissed his neck gently, her tongue dragging down his salty skin mimicking how she dragged her finger in a straight line to down his belly button, lower and lower…

“Itzia,” he whimpered against her neck. Her brain lit up, sparking a fire from the vibrations of his voice, saturated with hunger.

‘I like that’ she thought, humming in response. Her fingers slowed but slid lower and lower still, almost past the waist band of his tights under his habit. Lower…

“Shuri,” he purred in her ear, deep and desperate.

Her eyes shot open, immediately going black with bottomless need, the dark hound pulling against its restraint, howling for freedom.

“Say that again,” she whispered roughly, fingers crawling, lower….

He growled but obeyed. “Shuri,” he moaned her name, pleading. She pulled at his hair forcing him to lift away from her neck and look at her as her lips lifted in a slow mischievous smirk. She saw something enticingly dangerous flicker in his eyes, pupils almost narrowing to slits right before he possessed her mouth, tongue plundering.

Lower…

A ragged cry caught in his throat when her fingers drifted over his aching manhood, trapped behind two layers of cloth, ready to be set free. Lower still she traced until she finally reached the end of him. Bast! She spread her fingers over him and then gripped as much of him as she could manage, the length and breadth of him dwarfing her slender hand.

Shit.

His hips bucked against her, and she squeezed gently. A tortured sound left him, and she wanted to bottle it and store it in her brain forever. Her eyes grew wide as she continued to explore, more fully grasping the actual expanse of him. His proportions were indisputably more than human.

Fuck.

Shuri did not believe he was a god, but she was willing to get on her knees right in that moment and worship him, adore him, clasp her hands around him in supplication and let praise fill her mouth.

Between her thighs grew hot and wet, her grip in his hair tightened. She wanted to hear more  of those pretty sounds fall from his lips for her. She wanted to please him. He deserved some pleasure for all he had endured today. 

Yes. That is what she told herself. She fixed broken things and he had looked so broken tonight, so this, this healing was okay,this remedy was just. It was righteous. It was a righteous thing to give comfort. Right?

She stroked the tip of him lightly and he bit into her shoulder the pain causing her to hiss and withdraw her hand and bring it to his back in a slap.

The sound of the smack reverberated in the god-king’s hut. He drew back, indignation evident in his face. He snarled at her, reached behind him to grab her hand, bringing her fingers to his mouth, biting hard enough to hurt but not injure. She whelped and drew her other hand back and slapped his cheek, hard.

His eyes grew wide with lust and umbrage both, his stare almost maniacal, brows drawn all the way down and knitted together, teeth bared. Shuri did not back down, her eyes unwavering, one eyebrow quirked up, daring him, both their chests heaving with their rapid breathing. They stared each other down for a moment or two before Namor roared and lifted her nightgown over her head in one movement and crushed her lips with his, tongue plunging and possessing, his attention almost violent with its intensity.

Her frantic hands clawed at his hem attempting to lift his tunic and rid him of it, all while trying to win the battle that was their kiss.  She tore from their kiss and grunted in frustration. His stupid garment was not budging fast enough.

“Off!”

“What?”

“OOOOOOFFF!!” she repeated harshly, stretching the word and tugging at his tunic for emphasis making sure he read the annoyance on her face. 

He chuckled darkly and leaned into her ear and rasped,

“Ask nicely, Princess.”

Shuri shuddered despite herself but brought a hand up to grip his throat.

“Get this thing the fuck off now,” she said against his lips, her voice low and threatening, tightening her hold on his neck.

He grinned maniacally and discarded of the piece of clothing in what seemed to be less than a second, only his green shorts left behind. He leaned forward, placing his hands on the wall to either side of the princess’s head, their noses almost touching. 

Shuri could feel his breath fan her cheek, the heat of him burning her now naked body. She needed to feel his hands on her, she wanted his skin against hers and she was not willing to be patient about it. 

She whined and tried to press her breasts against his bare chest, but his hands pressed her shoulders firmly against the wall, stopping their contact. She huffed in irritation and bit at his cheek, narrowly missing him as he pulled away only barely in time. He laughed.

“So desperate for my touch, itzia.”

She glowered at him. “You are going to pay for that.”

“Ah,” he smiled devastatingly, “well, let me begin my penance now then, itzia.”

“Proceed, Namor,” she responded with mock coldness and smiled naughtily when he grunted in disapproval.

“How shall I begin my acts of contrition, Princess?” 

She raised her chin, leveling him with a haughty stare and licked her lips slowly, watching his eyes follow the movement.

“Touch me,” she ordered.

Immediately she had all of him, all at once, everywhere, drowning her senses. He peppered her face with tiny kisses, his one hand was trailing up her thigh and another was at her tilting her jaw to give him access to her throat.

Chills ran down her spine, goosebumps on her skin when he drew the tip of his hot tongue from her earlobe down to the base of her neck, licking the hollow there. Her legs buckled when his ministrations caused her head to prickle with arousal.

“Oh shit,” she sighed.

“Yes itzia,” he drawled. “Tell me how to atone for my malfeasance.” He kissed across her collar gently, causing her breath to quicken. She gripped his shoulders.

He breathed out a laugh. “In what manner should I seek forgiveness for my sins, Princess? With my hands or my mouth?”, he smiled slyly, his eyes black with lust. A tremor shook her at his gaze, but her voice was firm when she answered him,

“Both.”

His smile faded as an expression she could not label flashed on his face before gritted his teeth and landed hot, moist kisses across her chest, along her arms, on her shoulder while his hands slid up her sides gently until he reached the swell of her breasts, enclosing them in his large hands. 

He squeezed and massaged, her back arched when he began teasing both nipples, oxygen seeming to escape her. When his tongue found the tight bud she filled the hut with her cry, pulling a possessive groan from within his chest. 

Spurred by the sharp jerks of pleasure his attentions were garnering, he continued to lick and suck her breasts, her wrists cuffed in his above her head, against the wall. Between her legs he had positioned his thigh at her sex, sensing intuitively that the sorcery of his tongue over her dusky peaks was building pressure low in her belly. She rubbed herself against his leg, too aroused to care about how slick she was making his skin, she just needed to find sweet relief. 

She gasped when his teeth grazed on tender nipple while the other one was being rolled roughly between his fingers. The slight pinch of pain mixed with the mind-numbing pleasure sped her gyrations against him. Before long she felt that familiar sensation of tiny sparks of electricity take over her body, the first horseman of her impending climax. Namor felt her grow tense and switch nipples , sucking hard while pressing his thigh firmer against her as she bucked onto him.

“That’s it. Come for me , Shuri,” he commanded.

She fell apart.

Her cry of ecstasy painted the walls of his mind and he wanted to freeze time; the taste of her skin on his tongue, her warm, supple body spasming against him, her fingers digging into his shoulders. This moment, this woman, this feeling, was way better than anything his mind could have ever conjured. 

He grew uncomfortably hard hearing the whimpers that accompanied her aftershocks. He lifted he head to kiss her softly on the lips sliding his hand up her slender neck to hold her jaw in place gently. Her eyes opened, unfocused from her release when he pressed his forehead against hers.

“Forgive me.”

She blinked at him, expression confused. “Huh?”

“Forgive me,” he pinched her jaw, “for my wrongdoings against you.” He kissed her nose, one cheek, then the other, and then finally her lips. She sighed, dreamily.

“Absolve me.”

“You are pardoned, K’uk’ulkan,” she replied, languidly, batting her lashes slowly, leering at him in a way that made him certain she would devour him if he did not have her somewhat restrained.

“Bo’otik, itzia.” He kissed her soft lips, slightly swollen from all his ardor, humming into her mouth as she reached around and stroked his back. Everywhere she touched sent shockwaves through him, the grip on his control was perilously weak and he needed to regain focus. He wanted to savor this. 

For too long he had been alone, satisfying his flesh when a physical urge struck but never truly fulfilled, each experience left him less than sated. Now, with this wonderful, brilliant, radiant woman before him, welcoming and generous, regal and resplendent, he like he was drunk off her. Every movement, every touch, every stare and kiss, every sound she gave him, he lapped up, grateful for her offerings to him. 

He was a god, but he longed to worship her, to be a parishioner at her feet, lavishing her with songs of devotion, existing simply to provide her pleasure. 

“Do you want to play a game, itzia?” he asked softly, licking her bottom lip.

Her eyes narrowed. “What kind of game?” she asked suspiciously but he knew he had piqued her curiosity. 

“Now that my debt has been paid, and my sins forgiven, it is time for some… repentance,” he grinned devilishly, watching her expression go from skeptical to obstinate, rising to the challenge. 

“What is the game?” she gritted out, digging her nails into his back. 

He chuckled. “It is very simple, itzia,” he said innocently, placing a kiss square on her lips, “I am going to kiss you…,” he kiss her throat,

“… and you have to do your very best,” his lips found her nipple, teasing it to a point. She gasped and he put a finger against her lips.

“…to not make a single sound.”

She started to protest, he put a second finger against her lips.

“If you make a single sound, itzia,” he continued casually, leaving little pecks down her sternum, onto her soft, smooth belly, his tongue exploring her belly button, causing her to release a soft whimper.

“If I hear one word from you,” his lips made its way down below her belly button, past the small patch of dark springy curls where her intoxicating scent was making him heady. He grabbed her hips to hold her steady and he pressed his tongue flat against her clit and licked. She almost doubled over, moaning loudly.

“…I will stop,” he withdrew tongue. Her hands, shaking, clumsily found his head and tried to force his mouth back to her slick warmth. 

“Are you ready, Princess?” he asked resting his knees on the cold, hard floor, barely feeling it, as he took his position between her thighs, his hands still holding her hips. 

Before she could answer he plunged his tongue in between her folds, lapping up her arousal, his eyes rolling in pleasure at the sweet, musky taste of her. ‘ Mine’ his brain said over and over again as he kissed the tender flesh, travelling up until he got to that bundle of nerves and swirled his tongue around. No one could ever have her again. Only him.

Shuri jerked again in his arms and slammed her hands over her mouth, but he could hear her muffled cries, her blood racing through her veins, her heart hammering in her chest. She was an enchantress, and was trying to bewitch him, spell him to be her perpetual servant, cursed to crave her and her only until he no longer had breath. Desperate times called for wicked measures. He stopped.

“Eh?!” she exclaimed, immediately. “What are you doing? Why did you stop?!” she asked breathlessly

“I heard you,” he responded calmly, looking up at her, her beautiful face twisted in frustration. He was having trouble concealing his smile.

“Say you are sorry, itzia.”

“What?”

“You are sorry. Say it.”

Her eyes narrowed. “And if I do not ?” she arched a brow and looked down at him, a stubborn set to her jaw.

Wordlessly, he reached for his tunic on the ground and put it over his head. She snatched it roughly just as he has about to move it past his shoulders and pushed him back to his knees, knowing full well she did not possess the strength to cause any real movement. 

He smiled, settling back on his knees and placed his hands around her waist and looked up into her discontented face. 

“Say you are sorry for disobeying me, itzia,” he cooed

“I am sorry,” she said curtly. So rebellious

“Itzia, you can do better than that.”

“I am sorry for disobeying you, K’uk’ulkan.”

His dick jumped, wings vibrating rapidly against his ankles. 

“I forgive you,” he threw her, before he buried his face in her, licking, kissing sucking, firmly, then softly, then firmly again. Her hands were once more clamped over her mouth, her body now a band of tension, stretch tight with contained screams of pleasure wrestling with her self control. 

He groaned when he felt her legs tremble against his cheeks and closed wet lips around her clit while his tongue slid all over until he sucked gently, consistently. She stiffened and he reached up, mouth still working her, coaxing her to the edge, and ripped her hand away from her mouth replacing it with his. His other hand made its way to her entrance, his middle and ring finger sliding in with little resistance, gliding in, she was so wet for him. 

He had barely stroked her twice when he heard her gurgle against his palm as powerful tremors sent her body into convulsions. He removed his fingers and drank from her until her body went limp against the wall. 

He stood up and used the hand covering her mouth to grip her jaw, gently forcing her mouth open. With his eyes boring into hers, he brought the fingers that had just been inside her past her lips. Instinctively she sucked , tasting herself and he growled, resting his head against her damp brow , hissing when she reached inside his shorts.  

“Shuri,” he said on a sharp intake of breath.

“Bed,” she said kissing his bearded jaw as she stroked him in his tights. He saw stars, the edges of his vision fading.

“Princess?” his brain was foggy, and his heart was thundering, he felt his head spin like he had consumed a gallon of balche. What in Chaac's name was she talking about?

She continued her motions, and he was rolling his hips to meet her strokes, shamelessly. 

Chaac! He was going to bury himself so deep inside her in the next three seconds if she-

“Take me to bed now, K’uk’ulkan,” she whispered against his mouth after a kiss. He reluctantly drew her hand out of his shorts and lifted her easily, her legs wrapped around his waist, the heat from her sacred place against his bulging sex. He wanted to lodge himself deep inside her and never be moved. He needed to get rid of these damned shorts.

One hand secure around her waist, he made his way to his hammock quickly, removing his tights along the way. He moaned when he sat with her still straddling him on the hammock, her cunt dripping and rubbing against his hardness. He needed to be inside her. Now.

He tried to shift her in his arms to position himself at her entrance with a grunt. So warm and inviting, so slick and wet , just for him-

“Wait!”

“What, itzia?!” he whined, ashamed of how pathetic he sounded.

“Where is your bed?”

He blinked.

“Are you serious, Princess?”

“Yes. I require a bed, with soft blankets and fluffy pillows.” She looked at him, calmly but her eyes sparkled with mischief.

His eyes widened with realization of what she was about to do. Despite his pent-up frustration, he grudgingly admired her. Her game was revenge, and he was losing his upper hand. She slid herself along his cock, coating it with her juices as she spoke, looking him dead in the eye, and he did not know who was the serpent, him or her.

“There are things I would like to do with you,” she explained huskily, “that I cannot perform on a hammock.” 

He shook his head in disbelief and wonder. She was a witch. An insolent, vengeful, magnificent, enthralling, disconcerting witch. She continued rolling her hips as he shivered, the sensations of her heated wetness sliding against the most sensitive part of him was becoming too much to bear. If he were not a god he would not have been capable of speech then.

“What would you have me do, Princess,” he croaked. He could feel himself losing control. She was so warm. So wet. He was almost there. 

'Keep moving like that, itzia. Yes, just like that. Just like that...just like ah-'

“You are the king, figure it out.” And with that she hopped from his lap. 

‘NO!’  

He growled and slammed his fists futilely into the soft hammock below him. She was a child of Mictlāntēcutli himself. He did not trust himself to stand, all he could do was watch her helplessly, as she walked to where her night gown lay puddled under the window near the opening of the hut. 

His chest twisted in agony as she covered up her gorgeous body, mourning every inch of bare skin that his eyes lost.

She slinked back to him and tilted his chin up with a finger, his eyes greedily took in the seductively smug curl to her lips. 

“I have forgiven you, K’uk’ulkan, so do not consider this a punishment,” she leaned to kiss him softly.

“Did I not already offer restitutions for my wrongdoing, Princess?” he pleaded, gripping her hips tightly, his voice thick with yearning.

“You did. So, consider this a lesson in delayed gratification, inyoka entle,” She placed her hands on either side of his face and kissed him deeply. 

“Get me a bed, my king, and tomorrow we can reward each other for our patience.” She gave a chaste kiss and pulled away heading to the door. 

“I will steal the clouds from the sky to craft a bed for you if I have to, itzia,” he called after her, and he meant it. 

She threw him a beguiling look over her shoulder, “I believe in you, K’uk’ulkan.” Just like that, she walked out of his hut.

He sighed a painful, ragged sigh and threw himself back into his hammock, his hand drifted between his thighs where he was still wet with her. He would not wash himself tonight. No. He wanted her with him, in whatever form he could have her. 

No soon did he wrap his hand around his girth did a voice startled him. 

“Oh and I don’t think you should touch yourself until we meet again, my king, else that would defeat the purpose of the lesson, no?” 
Her cheeky face peered at him as she leaned into the entrance of his hut.

“Shuri,” he groaned. 

“May your dreams be peaceful, K’uk’ulkan, god king of Talokan,” she giggled. And with that she was gone again.

He swore long expletives under his breath, but he withdrew his hand from between his legs. 

Sorceress. 

_____________________________________________ 

Somewhere over the Atlantic

Aboard the Royal Talon, the Queen Mother removes a piece of folded parchment from within the folds of her green and purple dress.

“How much longer, Ayo?”

“We will be in Haiti in a little less than three hours, ukumkamikazi,” responded the new general of the Dora. She was a natural replacement for Okoye, hopefully, more reliable.

“Thank you, General.”

She unfolded the letter to read once more.

Dearest Mother,

I am safe. I know you must be worried but I assure you that I have a plan. I requested to be taken to Namor so that I could attempt to save the life of the scientist. He has agreed to keep her alive and I believe that if we convince him to ally with Wakanda we can negotiate for her release to Wakanda.

She has worries that her absence will cause her mother alarm. Please reach out to her and assure her that all is well. 

I have seen Namor’s kingdom. It is the most amazing thing I have ever laid eyes upon, mother! His people are so similar to the people of Wakanda and I believe we can benefit greatly from each other if we can forge an alliance. I have offered him my knowledge to demonstrate how useful sharing our gifts with other can be. 

I know that you are worried but please trust me. I am being treated well and I am in no immediate danger. Please do not make any moves against the king. I have a plan and I need you to trust me as I will only need a few more days. I believe he finds me favorable. If we move against Talokan it will spell war for both our people, avoidable war. 

I will request to be taken to speak to you in person soon, so you can hear all I have discovered. I love you. Please believe in me. 

Shuri.

The queen folded the letter once more and pulled out a lighter, holding the flame to the corner watching it lick up the paper, curling the edges as it burned. 

If Namor thought she was foolish he was sorely mistaken. He had a lesson in humility coming his way and she would be the cruelest of instructors. To insult her intelligence and have a joke of a letter delivered secretly, obviously written under duress by her poor child. 

She must be so scared.

She had been gone for almost four days. Who knew what unspeakable horrors she was being subjected to. 

She shut her eyes tightly, not wanting to imagine the suffering her daughter might be experiencing. 

The heat of the flames touched her fingers and she placed the burning parchment in a metal waste basket near where she sat at the back of the craft. 

As she watched it burn, she imagined it to be the arrogant ocean king, set ablaze and brought to ashes on his knees for daring to cause her to lose more time with her sole heir. 

Oh, he would pay. His day of reckoning was coming. He was about to understand intimately, the wrath of Wakanda. 

She stared down into the ocean, praying to Bast, the pantheon of gods, all her ancestors, that Shuri was still alive. 

She was going to get her daughter from that monster. 

By any means necessary. 

Chapter Text

Shuri made her way quickly to the cavern where she had been staying, the guards near the entrance looking straight past her, avoiding eye contact. Under the blue bioluminescence of the cave, it was hard to be certain, but she could have sworn she saw a tinge of purple on their cheeks.

Her eyes widened in horror. Had they…had they heard her? Shame hurried her to her hammock where she threw the soft blanket over her head, as if trying to disappear. She did not bother to check if Riri was still asleep. A loud snore soon told her she did not need to. 

Her heart was racing, her blood was pure adrenaline. She curled up in a ball, trying to make her body as small as possible. She was feelings so many things and she needed to calm down before she hyperventilated, the last thing she needed was to draw more attention to herself.

She closed her eyes and tried to isolate and eliminate each emotion one by one. 

Shame. Why was she embarrassed? Well, for one the guards had probably heard her bellowing like a boerboel in heat. Dear Bast! She could only imagine what they thought of her.   

‘Breathe Shuri. You are a grown woman, and you are doing nothing wrong or unethical really. Unwise, yes. Bast, yes! But not wrong.’

She exhaled slowly and let the sickly ball of unease leave the pit of her stomach. What next?

Nervousness. Or Excitement? She was not sure, but she was having trouble shaking the jittery feeling from her body. It felt like she was trapped inside a centrifuge, and she couldn’t slow down. She crossed her arms around her middle and grabbed her elbows, squeezing tight, an attempt to ground herself. She could not believe what she let herself do tonight. She had hit him! No idea what had possessed her to risk national security to feed some sinister desire she had previously buried, what she thought was completely. 

In the moment, she had not cared about anything but pushing the god-king, testing the strength of his restraint, investigating the boundaries of his temper. Would he bend? Bast! Something about him just made her want to be dangerous, reckless. 

So, she hit him, twice! The exhilaration she had felt was potent and addictive, when his gaze burned fire into her eyes, permission and warning clear in his stare. Permission to let go, to be unfettered, to run wildly and freely. But warning; he was the price to pay for that freedom.

She accepted gladly and had let herself indulge in the tantalizing possibilities his permission had made available to her.

She could feel herself making the mess between her thighs worse with her trip down memory lane. 

A king, on his knees, begging for her forgiveness, was the very Mount Bashenga of her secret cravings, a powerful mutant submitting to her pleasure, her wildest fantasy. And yet, here she was minutes after experiencing the most earth- shattering orgasms she had ever had in her life, hardly able to believe that her most fantastical, erotic wish had come true. 

Mine.

He had said it over and over between her legs and she feared that he was casting spells with his lips, and his tongue, for she knew deep down that she would not want another, crave any other, but him. He was everything she didn’t fully know she was waiting for and while she had the fate of her nation on her back right now, it did not mean she must be a martyr, right? Had she not earned the right to a tiny measure of pleasure? Had she not suffered enough?

Selfish.

She sighed. It was selfish. She knew it. Riri snored loudly again causing the princess to close her eyes as if to shut out the guilt that was standing center stage now. She had been selfish, greedy even, wanting everything from the king that she could never get from the men on the surface and taking it at the most inopportune, inappropriate time.

Another evening passed without her making any headway into getting the two of them released back into the custody of Wakanda and she knew this was her own fault. Somewhere between her visit to Talokan’s capital and now she had lost sight of her priorities. 

Her letter would only stay her mother’s hand but for a minute, if at all. She had to move fast because Bast forbid her mother ignored her letter and took offensive action against Talokan, she had seen first-hand what the Talokanil were capable of. They were stronger than humans and fierce warriors. In all honesty, they were as dangerous as they were charming, and she would do well to remember that. She was one misstep away from plunging their two nations into a bloody war.

Conflict was the last thing that Wakanda needed. They had been in mourning for too long a time already, since the death of her father, their king, to losses sustained in their battle with Thanos, losing half their population post-snap, having them return only to lose their protector, her brother. No, she must focus and do everything she can to avoid more tragedies. It was the least she could do.

She had failed to recreate the heart shaped herb, failed to save her brother, failed to bring Riri to Wakanda. She could not fail to create this alliance and bring this situation to a peaceful conclusion. 

Her desires would have to wait. 

She tightened the blanket around her, her cells vibrating a little less as she sorted and categorized her thoughts and emotions. What else was she feeling?

Regret? No, her mind said emphatically. She had no regrets. Every moment, every touch, every kiss she had earned. They were not used as bargaining chips or tools of manipulation. She and Namor were forces that collided, opposites but similarly wounded, both motivated by loyalty and love to those they held dear. Two stars crossing.

They respected each other and that respect did not disappear when they played but rather fueled the carnal desire that seemed to take root whenever they were together alone for any period. So, no, she had no regrets, save one. She regretted that they had not met under different circumstances. It could have been different then. Oh, so beautifully, deliciously different.

After counting to fifty to calmed herself, her lids grew heavy as sleep crept up on her. She was almost carried away, when suddenly her eyes flew open, an idea popping into her brain. 

‘Bast! That’s it! Shuri you are a genius!’  she exclaimed internally as the idea became more concrete in her brain. This could be the key to earning her and Riri’s freedom, help the Talokanil, show them that some surface dwellers can be trusted and simultaneously solidify an alliance between Wakanda and Talokan. 

And then with that taken care of, she could be free to explore this pull that she and the ocean king had between them. Without the political weight and threat of potential war , she was curious to know who the two of them could be to each other, unburdened.

She smiled as she closed her eyes. She needed to get her rest because tomorrow she had to work fast to get her plan into action. Her mother would not rest until she had her back in Wakanda,she was certain. She was hoping that she could go back there on her own, before her mother can find her in the god-king’s domain and all hell breaks loose. 

_______________________________________________

“Riri. Wake up.”

The small scientist rubbed her eyes and groaned.

“Why are you yelling, princess?”

“I am literally whispering. Are you hungover?”

Riri turned over and squinted at the princess. “Yes.” She said curtly and turned back on her side and closed her eyes.

Shuri chuckled softly and shook her shoulder gently.

“I am sorry, but you have to wake up. I think I have figured out a way to get us out of here, but I need your help.”

“And you need to do that right now?” Riri groaned, rolling to face Shuri, her brows drawn together in mild irritation.

Shuri shook her head and smiled. Teenagers. 

“Do you want to leave here or not?” she raised her brows at the younger woman and stared pointedly. 

With a sigh the American sat up, reluctantly. “Okay, I’m up. What do you have in mind?” 

Shuri sat next to her and draped a hand across her narrow shoulders and explained her plan. 

“The Talokanil have a problem and you and I are going to find a permanent solution. And when we do, we will show them that surface dwellers can be useful, helpful even, to them and that you with your brilliant mind can solve problems, not create them. Namor will see that your skills were manipulated by the C.I.A and I will ask that he allow me to take you to Wakanda.”

Shuri went into greater detail with the scientist, outlining the project that they needed to create a tutorial and formulas for, asking for her input along the way. At the end of it she asked Riri,

“Well?”

“Are you certain this will work?” the young woman asked, wringing her hands together nervously. 

“I can’t be certain of anything, but I believe there is a high probability that this will be successful,” she replied with confidence. This was going to work. It had to. 

“Alright. Let’s get to work then!”

Williams hopped out of the hammock and immediately winced and grabbed her head. 

“But first I need to get some food in me to kill this headache.”

Shuri laughed and stood as well. “Come , Xelha should be here soon,” she said as she led her to a bowl of fruit that was on a shelf near the hammocks. She selected a banana and handed it to Riri.

“Here, this should help you a little.” 

She grabbed and peeled the fruit and bit it eagerly. She gestured with the half-eaten banana, hand on hip, “Did you ever get to have your nightcap with the king?”

“No, I didn’t”, Shuri said, suddenly curious about what else was in the basket of fruit. She was not sure why she lied, so she changed the subject. 

“I know they have scientists in Talokan too, hopefully we can create schematics that they can understand and execute successfully. Who knows, they could even improve on it.”

Riri took the bait. “Improve on my design?” she leaned back and raised her brows in umbrage, “not fucking likely.”

Shuri laughed and drew her to the center of the cavern where they would be working. 

“Okay,” she said clapping her hands together, “let’s work like our lives depend on it.”

Riri huffed, worry in her eyes and she stood next to Shuri, “They literally do.”

______________________________________________________

Xelha had joined them about an hour into the pair drafting schematics for massive carbon nanotube sponges, that would help remove the oil from the ocean. 

They had both agreed that the use of nanotechnology paired with vibranium would be the most efficient and effective solution to the removal of gallons of the contaminant while halting the widening of the radius of pollution.

Riri was focused on the mechanics of the design of the sponges while Shuri was busy calculating the formula for a vibranium-enriched magnetic polymer composite of which the sponge would be made.

It was a little after lunchtime when they had finished. Shuri looked down at the notes the two had written on the cavern floor. Detailed and illustrated by the two scientists’ sketches, was a permanent remedy to this and any future oil spills for generations of Talokanil to come. 

The formulae were written in a mixture of English and Xhosa; Shuri had decided that she would ask the king for help translating when she told him of what she and Riri had done. 

After talking through their design, the two followed Xelha to their private pool to cleanse, bathe and change into new clothes. When they got back in the cave, they walked in to see none other than the god king himself in the middle of the hut, staring pensively at their schematics on the ground. 

The three young women froze, not if they should do or say anything. 

What seemed like a millennia of silence passed before anyone spoke. Riri clutched at Shuri’s arm, squeezing tight, her breaths coming very quick. Afraid that the young scientist was having a panic attack, Shuri decided to break the tension with an explanation.

“I hope you do not mind. I told Ms. Williams of the spill in the Atlantic and she offered to draft a plan to eliminate the oil and provide the blueprint for your scientists to keep for the foreseeable future.”

Riri’s eyebrows shot up at Shuri’s fib but the Wakandan ignored her and forged ahead, hoping she would play along.

“ Her design is such that not only will these nanotube sponges filter the sea water and absorb any contaminant without releasing it back in the water, each tube has a linking mechanism, allowing them to be locked together to form a perimeter around any spill.” She looked at him as his eyes still roamed over the illustrations on the floor, expression unreadable.

A throat cleared behind her. “Um… I also designed it in such a way as for it to be collapsible for storage Your Highness...uh…Majesty…Sir king…sir,” Riri stuttered , shrinking back as Namor slowly raised his eyes in her direction. Shuri could have sworn she heard the young girl’s knees knocking.

No one breathed. Or blinked.

The king’s gaze swung to the princess. “Join me for a meal so we can discuss this further.” And with that he swept out of their cavern.

Audible exhales sounded around the room as the three ladies crumpled into the hammocks, Xelha sitting next Shuri. 

“Man I was so scared, that man is fucking scary, on god!” Riri exclaimed from behind clenched teeth, punching her palm.

“Calm down, you did well! I will tell him this was your way of trying to make up for inventing the vibranium detector and showing that you had no ill will in its creation. You only want to use your gifts to help people, like his people.”

“Do you think he will go for it?” she asked softly, reluctant hope in her voice. 

“I think he has no choice. The design is amazing Riri. And very thoughtful. I will ask him to release you to Wakanda and allow me to speak to my mother face to face, so as to solidify an alliance. It will be an act of good faith between two nations.”

“Like a prisoner swap?”

Shuri chuckled and stood up to leave pausing to hug Xelha, saying as she pulled away, “And thank you, friend, for all your help,” she smiled warmly at the handmaiden.

Recognizing a few words from their mutual language lessons, Xelha’s eye lit up as she gurgled through her mask, “ Yo wi’ilkum!” , beaming when both Shuri and the scientist cheered and hugged her together. 

“I had better not keep the king waiting too long. I need him to be in a good mood,” said the princess, as she broke from the hug.

“Is he ever?” mumbled Riri, rolling her eyes in an exaggerated fashion.

Shuri laughed as she hurried out the cave entrance , tossing over her shoulder with a smug smile, “On occasion.”

____________________________________________

“Queen Mother, I have a location.”

“The Princess?” Ramonda said to the voice coming from the Royal Talon’s speakers.

“It would appear that she is in a cave about a hundred and forty meters below water.” 

“Are you certain?” the queen asked shakily.

“Yes, Queen Mother. How should I proceed?”

“Retrieve the Princess and the scientist and bring them to me. I will attempt to draw Namor out.”

“Yes Queen Mother.”

“And Nakia, retrieve her by any means necessary.”

“Yes Queen Mother,” she affirmed before cutting off the call. The former War Dog tapped on the waterproof glass mask of her green, gold and purple diving suit and stretched. She had to move fast to rescue her sisi. By any means necessary. 

_____________________________________________________

The god king was gazing into the water of the pool to enter Talokan in front of his hut when the princess found him, cheeks flush, stopping short and joining him on the steps into the water.

He felt her eyes burning into him, but he kept his gaze on the water deep in thought. 

He had walked in to invite her to lunch when he was stopped by strange drawings on the cavern floor.  Further inspection revealed these illustrations to be the blueprints and formula for some sort of filtration system to counter pollution. There were equations and formula in the top right corner written in, what he guessed, were Wakandan alphanumeric symbols, no doubt Shuri’s contribution to this project. 

Being alive so long leaves one with very few opportunities to be truly surprised, but the god king was veritably stunned when he realized what he was looking at. Not only was he stunned, but he was deeply moved. He was moved that the Princess had kept the plight of the Talokanil on her mind, despite their surrender to temptation that night, and woke up with a gift to his people on her agenda the next morning.

The blueprints that had been etched into the floor, from what he was understanding could provide a dependable solution to future incidents like the current one. While his ideal solution would be to destroy the surface world all together, this provided an immediate fix to an urgent problem, and he had felt gratitude bloom warmly in his chest. 

He was barely conscious of the words leaving her precious lips, blood rushing his ears as something profound and permanent cemented itself within his heart and spirit. He dared not look at her as she spoke, fearing his face betray his new discovery. He found that he no longer just wanted her affection. He wanted her to be his queen.

Vaguely aware of the silence that had enveloped them, he invited the princess for a meal in his company and rushed out the cavern in haste. He made it swiftly into his hut and grabbed his mother’s bracelet from off the display shell and sat out by the pool, awaiting the heir of Wakanda. 

He wanted to do this here, before she entered the hut and saw his preparations for her. He also wanted to do it before the portal that changed their destinies forever; where they had entered suspicious royals, wary of each other and emerged kindred souls and potential allies. Here, before the entrance to the kingdom he wanted to give her to rule beside him. 

Yes. He needed to do this here.

______________________________________________________________

Queen Ramonda turned to Ayo at the helm of the ship and spoke,

“I need us to buy Nakia some time. Take us to a location, far enough to give her some breathing room but close enough to Wakanda for us to get back behind our defenses quickly should the need arise.” 

“Yes Queen Mother. May I suggest Cape Verde?”

The queen hummed in consideration. It was far enough from the Yucatan where Nakia was, although, she had no idea how quickly the fish king could swim. She had to trust her gut and pray the ancestors did the rest. 

“Yes, General. That should work.” 

She turned around, heading to the back of the Talon to sit next to the matte black box that rest on the couch-like seat of the ship. She settled and lifted the lid to stare at the bespeckled, ornate conch shell lying within. She briefly wondered if the thing were bewitched or was a surveillance device. She quickly chased away the thought reasoning that anyone who had vibranium yet chose to prance around in underwear would not be sophisticated enough to make spy gear from a conch shell.

Still, she had  asked the scientists in Shuri’s lab to craft her a box that would obfuscate any activity outside of it. She put the lid back on the box quickly. 

‘Don’t worry Shuri. We are coming. We are on the way.’ She prayed to her daughter urgently, hoping that the bond between mother and child was strong enough to penetrate the seas. 

She folded her elegant hands on her lap and stared ahead as the Wakandan airship sliced through the clouds towards Cape Verde. 

She was nervous but not scared. Nakia would come through, she was certain. It was she, as Queen Mother of Wakanda, who had to be prepared for the inevitable retaliation of the King of Talokan. She would have the upper hand for only a moment. She would need to be clear headed and decisive. With all her heart she knew she was willing to pay the cost of wrenching her daughter from the clutches of this mad king. The gem of Wakanda was worth ten thousand ocean kingdoms.

She would fight them all.

Chapter Text

Shuri stared at the king’s solemn expression, unsure of what to say but knowing that she would combust if she didn’t get his feedback, her earlier confidence waning with each second of silence.

She was about to open her mouth to defend the project when the winged man asked,

“This was your idea?”

“It was Ms. William’s design,” she replied slowly.  It was not technically a lie.

He pressed, “But you helped.” He stated more than asked.

“Yes,” she acquiesced, “But only with some of the formula,” she added hurriedly.

“Why?”

Caught off guard by his question, Shuri blinked and stared into the water before she answered.

‘ Why? Because I want you to not keep the scientist hostage, I want you to let me see my mother, I want us to be allies and for you and me to enjoy each other again …’

But she didn’t say any of that. She couldn’t. So, she said something less provoking but equally as true. 

“In Wakanda, apologies are not complete without an action to restore or repay. The scientist had no idea her professor, who she trusted, would put her in this position, but she recognizes that regardless of her being ignorant of the motives of others, her work brought danger to you and your people. She does not take that lightly. Neither do I.”

He turned his gaze to her, his eyes burning intensely, making her breathing slightly more difficult. She didn’t think she would ever get used to the way he looked at her. His silence made her nervous, forcing her to fill the space with more words.

“We can’t change what the Americans did, but we can help with this problem and hopefully any in the future. This is only the tip of the iceberg of what we can do to help, if you allow us to in the future.” She gave him a tight smile.

When he still did not respond she took a deep breath and continued.

“I, of course would need your help, to translate the instructions for your scientists. Riri and I would be happy to create a prototype if you need-“ 

A large, warm, brown hand reached out and grabbed hers. Her skin burned deliciously at his touch.

“Thank you, princess.”  His voice, low and deep, sent tiny pricks of pleasure down her spine.  He added,

“Please relay to the scientist my acceptance of her apology.”

Shuri nodded and swallowed, not trusting herself to speak.

She watched, with bated breath, as the god-king turned his attention once again to the water and furrowed his brow in contemplation. It seemed like forever until he finally said with a sigh,

“The two of you will remain here to work with my scientists on the creation of this invention. At the end, if these nanotubes  as you call them, are successful, I will summon your mother and release the scientist into the custody of Wakanda.”

It was all she could do to not leap into his lap and kiss him furiously. Instead she elected to tease him.

“If they are successful? “Shuri fashioned her face into a look of offended shock.

Namor chuckled softly, “No offense meant, itzia.”

“Well offense taken!” She exclaimed, playfully shoving his shoulder.

She could finally exhale. She didn’t fail this time. She had-

“I was not finished, Princess.”

Her eyed widened and then she ducked her head briefly and grimaced as she whispered, “My apologies.”

“I am taking a great risk releasing the scientist to Wakanda. The fate of my children has always depended on me, and now, you are asking to share that responsibility, of knowing that your decisions will mean life or death to millions. It is a great amount of trust you are requesting of me. Would you afford me the same if I asked for it?” his eyes bore into hers.

Shuri looked down into her palms and gulped. Would she put the fate of Wakanda in his hands? Should they join in alliance, would she trust that he would take the safety of her people as seriously as he took that of his own?

Yes.

There was such unwavering confidence in her mind’s answer she surprised herself. But she knew it was true. She could trust him to keep his word, that much she had seen about him. He took promises and duty to heart.

“Yes,” she said to him, looking at him squarely.

A wistful half smile touched his face for moment as he looked at her through narrowed eyes, before he said, “If the scientist leaves the borders of Wakanda, I will kill her, and the alliance will be broken.”

Shuri tried to make her face as neutral as possible while meeting his gaze. It made her wince internally to know that he had not abandoned killing as an option all together, but she had to remember that he could have done that five days ago. He, instead, agreed to give her an audience and respect enough to listen and even consider her suggestion on how they could resolve their conflict.

“I still believe that taking a life is necessary in this situation, but I can assure you that we will hold up our end of the bargain. I understand that what I am asking is not an easy thing to request of you, but I am grateful to your gods and mine, that you have decided to trust me.”

He lowered his brow and gave her an amused look, “Remember this only applies if you are successful in your creation.”

Her brows raised at that, “And what happens if we aren’t?”

He flashed her one of those devastating smiles, setting loose butterflies in her stomach, “I will just have to keep you here until you are.”

“Well that doesn’t sound too bad, to be honest,” she mumbled, half under her breath but the god king heard her anyway and chuckled.

“It does not sound too bad to me either, itzia. I am almost praying to Chaac for your downfall.”

That made her burst into laughter with him joining in, after getting over the surprise at her sudden exuberance. She felt tension leave her body as she laughed, feeling lighter than she had in almost a year.

Her eyes closed briefly, thanking Bast for a successful negotiation, silently, on the off chance that she did indeed exist.  She felt the god king stir next to her and when she looked over, she saw his hands outstretched, his mother’s jade and Pearl bracelet laying across his palms.

The princess gawked at the bracelet that she had admired days before.

‘Is he…is he giving it to me?’

She dared look at him. He wore an almost sheepish expression, as if he was unsure of something.

She opened her mouth to protest such an invaluable gift, but no words came out. She wanted to tell him that she didn’t deserve it, that she did not do any of this for reward, that this was too meaningful a present, she was wholly unworthy.

All that left her throat was a gasp when he gently took her wrist and secured the jewelry around her wrist. It was even more beautiful than she first thought, the craftsmanship, intricate. She wondered what the symbols in the jade meant.

“Please take this as a token of my gratitude to you Princess, a symbol of our potential alliance,” he rumbled softly.

She touched the new piece on her wrist reverently.

“It is beautiful. Thank you, K’uk’ulkan," she responded softly.

She wanted to relish in how things were falling in place, how she was one step closer to getting Riri to safety. She wanted to feel proud of herself for being able to negotiate a quasi-alliance with the king of a reclusive underwater nation, the first ever person to do so, but she couldn’t.

The guilt that never seemed to leave her was working its way to the forefront of her mind and she could not shake it. She felt herself getting sucked into the familiar emotional wormhole as sudden tears pricked her eyes.

She sniffled before she could stop herself

Namor looked up in alarm. Was she …crying? Was she displeased? Did he misread the situation between them? Was he rushing her?

“Princess,” he began, concerned, “Is the bracelet not to your taste? I can give you another if you prefer…” his voice trailed when he saw her eyes widen in horror.

“Oh Bast no!” she almost yelled, grabbing his forearm. “No this is honestly more than I deserve!”

“Then why do you look so sad?” He asked patiently, but still alarmed at her switch in mood, reaching out to swipe at the tear that had escaped her beautiful eyes and was sliding down her cheek.  He wanted nothing more than to gather into her in his arms and keep her there, until whatever thoughts that colored her mind with sadness disappeared.

Had he not been a man of faith, he would have cursed the gods for not giving him the power to erase for her, any memory that made her hurt. He wanted to give her only pleasure and happiness and he vowed mentally that as his queen she would know nothing but joy until her dying days. 

Namor gathered her hands into his, rubbing her knuckles, hoping to provide her comfort, but cautiously. He sensed that she was struggling with something outside of their current situation; he was no stranger to the inner turmoil of a troubled soul.

So, he said nothing, rubbing circles into the back of her hand, sitting in the silence with her until she was ready to speak.

“I know I must look crazy to you. Please don’t think that I am not happy for our nations moving a step closer towards a solid alliance.”

She dropped her gaze to his mother’s bracelet on her delicate wrist.

“I just can’t shake the frustration that I am here, alive, able to help everyone on the surface and below, but couldn’t help the person who needed me most, the one person I loved the most in the world.”

He hummed in understanding.  “Your brother.”

The princess nodded and swallowed before she continued. 

He listened intently as she told him of the death of her father, how her brother found the man responsible but spared his life, reluctant to be consumed by vengeance. Namor held back a sneer at that, not able to relate but becoming clearer on who had modeled the empathy and noble ideology he witnessed from the princess. These traits ran in the family.

It was evident from her account of the interloper that attempted to usurp the throne and her brother’s compassion even in defeating his cousin, that the sun rose and set with T’Challa for her. 

When she told him of the battle with Thanos and her being snapped out of existence for five years, his world stopped spinning; he felt his scalp grow hot with rage. If Thanos had not been already vanquished, he would have flown to all the planets to find him himself and crush him into powder for daring to rob the world of this most remarkable of humans.

He forced himself to relax his muscles, not wanting to distress the Princess any further with his thoughts of violence on her behalf.  This was not about him. 

When she got to the part when she was returned, only to go straight into battle, he felt his heart swell with pride. She was so courageous and fearless, her love for her nation and care for others spurring her to fight valiantly, even at the expense of herself.

Selfless. Loyal. Kind. Fierce. All the markers of a great queen.

Her voice broke when she told him that soon after the battle her brother fell sick with a mysterious illness.

He cursed the gods then.

She was far too young, far too good, for them to have afflicted her with so much loss and pain and trauma in her short life. Other than his mother, he had not known a soul so pure, yet here she was, heart twisted in grief and guilt, believing herself a failure for not saving her brother. Where was the justice in that?

“I should have been with him,” she mourned, tears falling freely, “at his side. But I buried myself in my lab, trying and failing, over and over, instead of being with him, even when he asked for me. I was a coward.” 

The princess broke down at that, and he gathered her immediately into his chest, wanting to shield her from any and everything that would ever try to cause her anguish. She clung to him as heavy sobs wracked her body, fingers buried in the soft fabric of his grey and white hand woven cloak.

“You are no coward Princess. Far from it.  You are the bravest, kindness soul I have met in my long life.  The world has taken far too much from you. “

He felt her grow calmer in his arms and he continued, stroking her back softly,

“My ancestors used to say ‘only the most broken people can be great leaders’. We must trust that the gods do not allow us to suffer in vain. “

She pushed off from him angrily and he feared that he had ruined the delicate thing that had just been building between them.

“Why would the gods give me gifts to help everyone else, but not allow me to save my brother, eh? Why would they do that?”  she sneered.

He looked onto the water, considering her question. He sighed,

“I do not have an answer to that Princess.”

“Of course not.”

She uncurled herself from him and returned to her place at his side on the step. He missed her warmth instantly but understood her need for distance.

He angled himself slightly to face her. Namor knew her anger was not directed towards him, and he was more than willing to absorb her grief, to pull it out of her body and carry it in her stead.

Gazing at her face twisted in a mix of painful emotions, he decided then, that her pain was so deep, her wounds so fresh that pursuing his affections for her as aggressively as he had been doing, would only interfere with her healing.

What she needed now was a mission to focus on and a companion who would give her space to let her fall apart and mend herself until she felt whole again.  He was more than able to provide her with both.

Living for centuries gave one much experience with the human condition so he knew that for her, he was simply a distraction from her inner turmoil, at least right now.

There was no denying the connection between them, with every fiber he knew they were destined to be together, however, he also knew that this was not the best soil to plant the seed of their union. He could wait for her to choose him with a healed heart. She was worth the wait.

“I heard you that night, saying that you wanted to burn the world, Princess.” This , he thought, could be her mission. Their mission.

He looked at her earnestly, “Let us burn it together,” he offered. 

Before she could answer, a loud growl came from her stomach. Her eyes widened and she clutched at her belly as if to silence it.

He smiled. “Please do not tell your people that I have once again starved you.”

She shook her head and folded her arms across her chest,

“I wish I could protect you but the withholding of proper nutrition from a royal is a serious offense in Wakanda.” She smirked.

“I beg for mercy Princess Shuri of Wakanda. Allow me to feed you personally.”

He stood and held his hand out to her.

_______________________________________

The smell of the feast before them made Shuri salivate immediately. Getting engrossed in her work that morning, she had paid little attention to her physical needs and had not eaten anything save some Talokanil papaya.

Unburdening herself to Namor, having him (conditionally) agree to release Riri to Wakanda, she felt light and playful. She rubbed her hands together gleefully at the spread  and looked up at the king who was standing very close to her with an odd expression on his face.

She could not give it much thought because a bowl filled with something purple caught her eye; the delectable corn cakes from their first meal together! With little regard for protocol or decorum Shuri leaned over the table and reached into the bowl and grabbed one and popped it into her mouth and chewed.

It was even better this time! She knew they did not have cows, or any other livestock, so she made a mental note to ask Namor how in the world they got these to be so buttery.

“Bast! These are so good! I wish we had this in Wakanda,” she lauded as she licked the crumbs off her fingers in a moan.

The god-king did not move or make a sound, but she felt a breeze at her ankle and heard that subtle but familiar flutter of mutant wings. A mischievous fox sashayed inside her brain.

She reached into the bowl and grabbed another corn cake, turned to face Namor and slowly brought the savory treat to his mouth that was pressed into a thin line. There was a battle going on in his expression. His eyes were dark with desire, but the rest of his countenance remain neutral, impassive. Once again, Shuri took this as a challenge.

She stepped closer to Namor until they could feel each other’s heat and she pressed the cake to his lips.

“Allow me to assist you, K’uk’ulkan,” she said in as sultry a voice as she could manage.

She felt a twinge of satisfaction when his wings fluttered erratically but it was short lived as his strong hand closed around her wrist.

 He lowered his head slightly and quickly plucked the pastry from between her fingers, careful to not touch them, and released her.

“Thank you, Princess,” he responded neutrally.

Shuri frowned and considered him. He was behaving strangely, back to his mercurial temperament, which drove her absolutely mad.

The air crackled between them though, and she saw his gaze darken when she moved even closer, letting her eyes drop to his lips.

“Aren’t you going to assist me?” She looked up at him with sanguine eyes.

She saw his expression falter and let a smirk lift the corner of her mouth.

His jaw tensed as he clenched, but when he spoke his voice was even,

“ I believe you already assisted yourself,Princess.”

“Shuri.”

“Hmmm? “

“You call me Princess all the time, but never by my actual name. Why?”

She observed as he searched for an answer, lines creasing his forehead as he pursed his lips. Finally he shrugged ,

“I suppose l have grown fond of addressing you by your title. Does it displease you? “  he asked .

“No, I was just curious,” she placed a hand lightly on his chest, “ but you can call me by my name if you would like, occasionally.”

Her breath hitched when she gazed at him and saw shy tenderness in his gaze, his expression once again uncertain.

“Would you like it if I called you by your name?” the king asked so gently, she felt her heart melt.

“ It would be nice to hear, sometimes,” she replied, barely above a whisper.

“Then it would be my pleasure, Shuri.”

The way his tongue curled around the syllables, his accent turning her name into an exotic prayer, nearly made her knees buckle.

There was no denying this anymore, no more lying to herself. She wanted him and she would want him for a very long time. She had met all sorts of enhanced humans, beings with extraordinary capabilities from this realm and from other galaxies. Yet none had impressed her, moved her, ignited her like the god king of Talokan.

None possessed his raw magnetism, his selflessness, his heart for his people. He was a wealth of first hand historical knowledge and experiences; cunning and powerful but gentle and considerate. He was ruthless and unrelenting when he felt his people threatened but every action, every choice, whether she agreed with them or not, was made out of deep love for and duty to his people. His integrity could be assumed in the way his people trusted him.

His cruelty was not directed to them, else the ease and eagerness with which they approached him would not exist. He did not rule with intimidation, that much was evident. Instead, he earned their loyalty with consistency, generosity and service.

From what she gathered, his word was law, not because he used force, but because he always kept his promises to his people, and they knew and expected that he would sacrifice even his own life to see that it was so. She could not help but respect him.

Also he was devastatingly beautiful and she wanted to ride him until her legs gave out.

Shuddering at the sound of her name falling from his lips, his warm, pink, full lips that tasted like the sea, she cleared her throat and breathed deeply.

“ I very much like the way you say my name,” she confesses with a shy smile.

His eyebrows went up and so did the corner of his mouth.  “Oh?”

Bast, he was so handsome it hurt.

Shuri brought her hand to meet the other one on his chest, reveling in the heat that was so distinctly his.

“ You say my name as if it something precious, as if I am something precious.” It was her turn to look up at him, uncertain.

She was relieved when the warmest of smiles lit up his face as he stroked her cheek with the back of his hand.

“Itzia, I do not know if our gods conspired together to have you be brave enough to ask to come to me, here, but I will build a temple to Bast herself in my own home in thanks that you did.”

Shuri felt the sting of tears in her eyes, listening to his sincerity, his gaze filled with unmistakable adoration. Her brother had stared at Nakia like that all the time so she was familiar with that look. She had just never been its target before and she found it simultaneously addictive and terrifying.

“You, Shuri, Princess of Wakanda, are precious, to me. Every day you grow even more so. Selfishly, I hope to have many more days with you.” 

Her heart was beating rapidly in her chest, a contrast to the slow steady drum of his beneath her palm.

“That would be … great,”she sputtered. Internally, she chided herself.

Her big brain couldn’t find better words and she hated that she sounded like a simpleton in this man’s presence. But he made her feel so many huge emotions, it was hard to think around him. She did not want to think around him. She wanted to-

“I think you should eat some more Princess.”

His hand at her elbow steered her towards a chair where she sat the night of their first meal together. He leaned forward a bit to pull out her chair when something over his shoulder caught her eye.

In the place where his hammock had hung the night before, was what looked like a bed on top a platform that seemed to have been carved out of the limestone wall.

On top was a thick mattress, hedged with the white , green, blue and red pillows on top of a soft looking white blanket and fluffy red one draped along the bottom end of the bed. Scattered around the perimeter were water lilies of varying shades, bowls filled with bioluminescent glow worms at the corners.

Shuri gasped, her hands steepled at her mouth as she stood slowly and walked towards the bed for a closer inspection. She was in disbelief. There was so much care and effort put into this.

When she had asked him for a bed she had not expected him to act right away. Cognizant of the challenges created by them being under water, she expected it to take at least three or four days before he figured it out not a few hours! Maybe he really was a god.

She turned to face him, “How did you-?”

Her question fading away upon noticing the stricken look on Namor’s face.

“Namor? What’s wrong? “ She rushed to him and grabbed his hand, worried.

His mouth opened and closed several times as he looked at her, his eyes filled with…shame? She was confused.

Finally, he spoke, “ Princess, please forgive me. I had this made before we spoke earlier, I should not have-“ She cut him off. 

“Should not have? But I asked it of you. And you brilliant, brilliant man , you-“

“I am not a man, I am-“ He grumbled.

“- you made me a bed! Under the sea! In less than 24 hours!” she exclaimed, ignoring his interjection.

Color tinged his cheeks, as Namor scratched the back of his neck and winced. She held back a laugh for he looked very much like a guilty schoolboy. She had never seen the self assured king like this before and it was extremely endearing.

“I was too hasty, overzealous. Please forgive me, Princess.” He hung his head.

Shuri was bewildered. “Forgive you?” she asked, incredulous. “For what? Granting my request in a very prompt manner? Why, by the gods, would you need  forgiveness for that? “ she asked genuinely.

Namor hazarded her a glance with the softest brown eyes , so full of apprehension that emotions exploded in her chest and all she wanted to do was cradle him in her arms and stroke his thick, dark curls until whatever concerns were bothering him were laid to rest.

Was he nervous ? Was he afraid she did not approve?

With a deep sigh he began, “ When you left me last night, my thoughts were consumed by you, with lust, and I was not able to sleep. So, I began to work,” He gestured to the bed behind her, “ like a man crazed.”

Between her legs grew moist, the idea of him, driven to frenzied activity because of arousal by her, was heating her blood. The mighty K’uk’ulkan had been thinking of her all day. Her heart and her body were turned on. He continued hesitantly.

“But, now I feel a deep and burning shame. You are in mourning, and have been in mourning for a very long time; before you could heal from one tragedy, another befell you. “

He paused, trying to find the right words to say.

“Princess, you are vulnerable right now, your heart has seen much strife, I should have recognized it earlier but I let my selfishness get the best of me. For that I am so sorry.”

The princess shook her head, unable to quite grasp the point of his words, “ Speak plainly, Namor.”

He grimaced but continued, slowly, “ I want you, Princess. Deeply. But I also want you to desire me, but with a heart that is not hurting, with a spirit that is not in such turmoil. It would not be right for me to take advantage of you in such a time, no matter how much I crave you.” He reached out as if you touch her cheek but then pulled his hand back, watching her.

Her brows drew together as she processed what he was saying finally. Was he rejecting her? Was he saying he regretted them crossing the professional line? No. That wasn’t it. He cared for her. So much so that he was willing to put his wants to the side and risk never having her, to give her time to choose him when she was not grieving.

His concern for her was making her want him even more and the irony was not lost on her. A hysterical laugh bubbled in her chest and spilled past her lips before she could stop it. It was Namor’s turn to be confused.

She grabbed his face between her palms and pulled him closer still laughing.

“ You foolish foolish man-“

“I am not a -“

“ Shut up,” she placed a finger on his lips to silence him.

He began to protest but she quieted him with a deep, soul stealing kiss. The saltiness of his soft lips on her tongue and the familiar scent of him made her moan in appreciation. She had been waiting to do this all day. His hands were still by his side when she pulled away, holding his face.

“I will never stop grieving my loved ones, they were a part of me and when they left they took that part with them. But the rest of me is here, has been here with you, talking , functioning, negotiating an alliance, inventing new technology.”

She slid one to the nape of his neck and the other cupped his bearded chin, tilting his head down to focus on her as she finished.

“If I am able to do all that with this same heart and mind, do you still think me unable to make smart choices?”

She let go of his chin and slid her hand down his bicep as she kissed his neck ever so softly. She felt him gulp and she smiled against his throat.

“ No, Princess, but I-“ he croaked .

“Do you think that the head of the Wakanda Design Group and chief inventor is incapable of making her own decisions?”

She kissed just behind his ear and felt him shudder. Her smile grew wicked.

“On the contrary Princess, I-“

“ Have my actions while here caused you such concern that you question my mental acuity?” Her tongue darted out to lick the shell of his pointed ear, earning her a moan. Finally.

She pulled back to like him squarely in the face, his longing barely contained, eyes smoldering. Need snaked through her until it found a resting place below her belly, her core clenching in anticipation.

"Well?" she pressed for his response.

“No Princess, your mind is like no other I have encountered in my many centuries and your intelligence is unmatched.”

“Please then, after this moment, never appoint yourself to think for me, or make decisions on my behalf. Can you agree to that?”

He nodded, looking at her hungrily. 

“Good,” she smiled , her hand sliding into his soft , silky curls, causing him to groan, eyes half lidded.

She took a deep breath and said evenly, meeting his gaze, “ I want you. I have chosen to want you, to let myself want you and to want to be with you. You are my choice.”

She let her words linger in the air , watching a kaleidoscope of emotions dance across his face as he processed her confession, his large hands gripped at her hips now, as if to anchor himself. Her heart was filled with fondness but her blood was on fire, for him.

Deciding to take control of the situation, she brushed her lips against his ear she whispered,

“Now take me to bed , K’uk’ulkan.”

He swore under his breath.

“Princess, maybe we should-“

“Please?” She pouted, gazing up at him with doe eyes.

He growled deep within his chest and before she could take her next breath his lips were fused to hers and they were moving through the air.

____________________________

With his lips never leaving hers, Namor flew to the edge of the bed and sat, dragging her down to sit astride him.

“I want to be with you. You are my choice “

Her words replayed in his head, over and over, driving him into a frenzy of passion and profound affection.

The princess, his princess, had chosen him, of her own free will. Him, despite his capacity for cruelty and stubbornness and inflexibility, despite him being so opposite of the ones she loved the most, she found him worthy of her desire and she chose him.

In his arms, so pliant and soft, she returned his kiss, raising her dress up her thighs so he could pull her even closer to the bulge that was straining in his tights.

She gyrated her hips slowly, moaning satisfaction against his lips when she finds the friction she is looking for. He can already feel her growing wet and hot for him.

Mine.

“Tell me again, itzia,” He broke their kiss briefly to beg of her. “Tell me you want me and only me.”

“I only want you, K’uk’ulkan,” she promised breathlessly, before she claimed his lips again, grinding into him. He was about to explode.

“Too much,” she murmured into their kiss. He sucked on her bottom lip making her gasp in pleasure before he asked,

“ Too much what, itzia?” He began to trail kisses along her jaw as her fingers tightened in his hair.

“Clothes.Too much. I want to feel you.”

She did not have to tell him twice. He ripped off his shawl and made quick work of his large neck plate. He left the smaller necklaces but removed the arm braces, setting them on the floor on top of the discarded fabric.

He then helped her get rid of her garments until she was bare before him, bathed in the  golden light of his cabin, her perfect, dark skin making his mouth water. He reached for her hips and pulled her closer, sliding one hand up her back until he got to the base of her neck, holding her in place while his tongue plundered her mouth.

She was touching him, everywhere, leaving a trail of fire on his skin.

‘She could burn me. She could burn me alive and I would not care ‘

All the blood in his body went straight to his center when she wrapped her hands around his neck, her legs around his waist and rubbed her now naked sex against his. Her juices had soaked through his shorts and was mixing with his own arousal. Grabbing her waist he lifted them both as he deftly dispatched of his shorts.

They were getting in the way.

He deposited them back onto the bed in their previous position.

He heard her gasp and saw her looking down at his erect member pressed somewhat uncomfortably between their bodies. Did she find him hideous, mutated?  He held his breath, anxious, afraid to move. He knew it was too good to be true, he knew his luck would run out and Chaac would punish him for his selfish-

“You are magnificent,” he heard her whisper , unmistakable awe in her voice as she scooted back on his thighs to assess him better.

“I am?” He squeaked, shame washing over him with how insecure his voice sounded.

“Yes,” she huffed a laugh, “ you’re …” she gestured at crotch, “ …enormous. And beautiful. Of course you’re beautiful. Everything about you is beautiful.”

Her words burrowed into his heart and he ached. He wanted to give her every last piece of fine jewelry in the royal treasury but it still wouldn’t be enough to show how much her valued her.

The earth stopped spinning and everything went blank when he felt her fingers wrap around him. He had closed his eyes to concentrate on not spilling all over her lovely, slender hand. “Princess…” He gritted from being clenched teeth.

She hummed and began stroking him slowly, up and down, her grip tightening slightly when she got closer to the head and loosening on the way down. Her finger swiped at the pre- cum dribbling from the sensitive bulb and his hips jerked suddenly. She withdrew her hand immediately.

“Did I hurt you?” She asked , eyes wide with panic.

He shook his head and pulled her close for a kiss, smoothing out her frown with his thumb.

“No, itzia , quite the opposite. It felt unimaginably good. I did not anticipate it, that is all. I did not mean to frighten you. ”

She purred and kissed him again, slowly, seductively, her hands thrown over his shoulders and joined behind his neck. She rubbed herself up and down his length, languidly, while her tongue thoroughly explored his mouth, traced his lips, licked and sucked on his tongue, sending shockwaves through his body. Witchcraft.

He had never been this hard in his life.

It was uncomfortable, painful almost, but he was determined not to rush her. He wanted to ensure that she had no regrets, that everything they did together was a joint effort.

When she pulled away for air, she gazed dreamily into his eyes and he was melting, hypnotized. She could have asked him to surrender his body to Xibalba and he would have flung himself into the underworld willingly in that moment. But instead she said sexily, with come hither eyes trained on him,

“Aj K’uk’ulkan,” His eyes widened, his dick jumping at hearing her speak his mother tongue , “ you have kept your promise to me. I want to fulfill my promise to you.” She emphasized her last words by gyrating her hips suggestively n biting her bottom lip, looking at him through her lashes.

He needed to be one with her. Now.

“Princess, have you ever seen a god go mad?”

She giggled, confused, stroking his neck, “ No, I can’t say that I have.”

“Well you’re about to bear witness to it if you do not have mercy on me.” He dropped his forehead onto her shoulder , pressing kisses to her collarbone as she stroked his hair.

“What do you mean?” She pulled on his hair to raise his eyes to hers.

“I ache for you, Shuri,” he said with all the sincerity in his body. He watched as her eyes turned black with arousal and she whispered in his ear,

“Take me, K’uk’ulkan.”

He wasted no time, he lifted her off his lap and pressed her back against the soft blankets of the bed. He took a moment to admire the smooth expanse of her body, the gentle curves of her hips, her pert but supple breasts, her strong thighs and long legs that were making their way to wrap around his hips. She was a goddess.

Her hands reached for him and pulled him down on top of her. He kissed her softly at first, then deeper, their intensity building, bodies writhing in anticipation.

He was in heaven. Somewhere better than heaven if he had to guess. Her scent filled his nostrils and he cursed the moments in the future where he would not have her flooding his senses. Sweet was the skin beneath her jaw, in the hollow of her throat, below her collarbone.

Her cries of pleasure when he took her hardened nipple between his teeth was his personal siren song, calling his hips to start moving. She canted her hips up awkwardly, trying to guide his hardness to her entrance, getting him slick. He jerked away from her before he lost it all together.

She whined in protest.

“Easy, itzia,” he chuckled against her skin, relishing in her neediness.

Her fingernails dug into his back as she tried to press him closer,  her desperation the most potent of aphrodisiacs. Why was he resisting again?

“I can take it, I promise,” she whimpered, tightening her legs around his waist.

He relented and gave her the contact she wanted. He looked down between their bodies to watch her dark mound fuse with his ochre pelvis as she gyrated against length. Big mistake. The view had his control slipping.

“ Princess, I know you will, just let me prepare you,” he claimed her other nipple and sucked while his hand plunged between their bodies and parted her slippery folds, groaning at how wet she was. For him.

Mine. All mine.

He would rip the heart out from any one who tried to touch her like this, to see her like this. He would grind them to dust.

Feeling her writhe beneath him, smelling her arousal mixed with his was intoxicating. His fear of hurting her and ruining her experience was the only thing keeping him from drilling her through the mattress. The god king’s restraint was in tatters.

His thumb glided over the sensitive bundle of nerves and he felt her arch sharply off the bed , a loud gasp coming from her throat.

Right then, he plunged his middle finger into her sopping entrance easily, then his ring finger and sucked hard on one nipple while pinching the other.

Shuri’s back arched again her voice filled the hut as she swore,

“Oh my fuuuckiiiing Bast!”

At the sound of her profanity, his hips found a mind of their own, rocking into the bed below him as he continued to pleasure the princess.

Crooking his fingers, he found the spot he was looking for confirmed by the princess’s voiceless scream and her hands clutching mercilessly at his back.

Still wetter she grew when he continued ministrations , rubbing slow firm circles into her delicate bud, thrusting with his fingers . Her muscles tensed beneath him and he knew she was close. 

“ Do you feel how wet you are,itzia? Do you see how wet I make you? No one can do this to you like I can. Say it “ he growled into her neck.

Slender fingers gripped his shoulders.

“No one,“ she agreed breathlessly, voiced strained with need .

It made him feral.

“No other can pleasure you the way that I will, itzia. Say it!” he demanded, his movements between her legs speeding up.

She squirmed beneath him, her release close.

“No one but you!” she confirmed between pants, vice grip on his muscled biceps.

“Good. Now come for me, Princess” he rubbed her clit in tighter circles to usher in her climax but her small hand stayed his.

“Wait !” She exclaimed.

“What is it princess? “ he tried to ask patiently.

“I don’t want to come until you’re inside me.”

Impossibly, he got even harder.

“Princess,” he began, but the desperate look on her face made him swallow any resistance he was about to put up.

She reached up and stroked his cheek tenderly, lovingly, “ Please, K’uk’ulkan?” she begged.

Staring into her dark brown,lustrous eyes he removed his fingers and brought them to his mouth to lick every last drop of her off his skin. He closed his eyes and hummed. She tasted even better than he remembered.

He opened his eyes to find her watching him, entranced. He smirked, loving the feeling of her adoration if only for this moment.

“ You taste so fucking good, itzia,” he rasped, before he leaned in to let her find out for herself, with a slow but intense kiss.

He eased onto his haunches and grabbed the back of her thigh, spreading her legs open to give him more space. Taking himself into his hand he slide it along her slit, coating himself with her juices, cementing this picture of her, beautiful and wanting , spread open before him, in his mind.

Finally, he guided himself to her entrance and slid in, inch by inch, planning to keep his eyes on her face to monitor any sign of discomfort. But when he felt her tight, moist heat envelop his tip, pleasures he had never felt before blinded him.  His hips jerked involuntarily but he managed to he still his movement, grasping for some tiny sliver of control.

The voice of his princess, thick with lust , cut through his haze as her felt her press against his back, urging him on,

“K’uk’ulkan, please, I want more… I need all of you… inside me. Please,” she sobbed.

He lost it.

With on fluid move of his hips he slide inside her, her body immediately clenching around him. He bellowed , stars bursting behind his eyes as his vision faded to black, the pleasure, more exquisite than any singular moment of his long life. Everything that he ever wanted for himself was here, between her thighs.

“Oh!” she gasped as he bottomed out, her body adjusting to the sheer size of him.

When she began to move her hips, Namor made promises to her, in his mother tongue, to build her a throne next to his, to lay jade and pearls at her feet to walk upon, to build a statue in honor of her beauty and bravery, to devote his dying breath to her pleasure, to live with his face buried in her lap every second he was not needed by his people.

He knew she understood none of it but he promised it anyway.

Her movements were growing frantic now but he stilled her hips to have her look at him.

“What’s wrong?” she asked impatiently.

Cupping her face in his hands, he leaned forward and rested his forehead to hers.

“Swear to me that I will be the only one who will have you like this, even when you are away from me, no one else will have you, just as no one else but you will have me. Swear it, please, Shuri.”

He didn’t care that he sounded pathetic. He knew he was not able to live in a reality where he had to share her.

His heart soared when she nodded her head in agreement

“No one will have me but you, K’uk’ulkan.”

With a possessive grunt he began to move inside her, slow and deliberate at first, wanting to take in the feel of her, watch her expressions, her parted lips where moans escaped, her eyelids heavy with pleasure, her breasts moving every time their hips connected.

The sounds coming from her, and the way she was meeting his strokes so sensually, hands roaming his chest, his abdomen, was driving him closer and closer towards his peak.

She scraped her nails up his back and he shuddered at the sensations rippling through his body. When she slid her hand down past his waist to grip his cheeks in an attempt to quicken their pace, he knew he wasn’t going to last much longer.

Her cries became louder, her words bolder, as their love sounds and slap of flesh on flesh was all that could be heard in his abode.

His heart was bigger than his body as he kissed her lips, his orgasm creeping closer and closer.

‘I want you. I choose you.’ Her words to him.

For now, that was enough. That was all he would ask of her and still respect himself. He hoped she would keep choosing him, because his mind, his soul and now his body had chosen her. Irrevocably.

“In k’áatech,” he whispered, his throat felt thick with the depth of his feeling for the princess in his arms. He couldn’t let her know that he loved her just yet. It might push her away. But he could show her and he tried to, pouring every ounce of his emotions into his thrusts, driving into her with purpose. He was so hard he was certain he could cut through vibranium.

“K’uk’ulkan!” she gasped

“Yes , in yakunaj.”

“You... feel... so... good!” She moaned fingers curling roughly in his hair.

He didn’t mind. He didn’t mind at all.

“Tell me how I feel, itzia,” he purred into her lips.

“Big. So...big,” she mewled , caressing his back and rocking her hips to meet his thrusts.

“ What else?"

“Deep! You’re so deep inside of me, I- ...K’u..k’ul..kan!”

She moaned his name as leaned back to grab her hips and change the angle of his thrusts. He was almost there and so was she but he need her to get her pleasure first.

“Yes, itzia, scream my name! Let the gods hear you!”

“I..I… oh shit! Oh fuck! Oh shit, shit , SHIT!” 

“Use your words, Princess.” He thrust deeper, knowing he was making it hard for her to speak.

“I’m… I’m …”

“Yes?” He thrust harder, faster. “Yes?”

“I’m … oh gods! oh fuck! I’m about to come!” She squealed as her stomach grew taut. He knew she was close to the edge.

“Come for me, Shuri. Come for your god.” He slammed into her over and over like a man possessed.

“Oh Bast! Please don’t stop! Please don’t stop! Please don’t-“

“K’uk’ulkan! You are being summoned.”

He dived to cover a wide eyed , shocked completely nude Shuri, who screamed at the intrusion.

“GET OUT NAMORA!” He roared at this general, eyes blazing with rage.

She raised an eyebrow, unphased behind her mask.

“Yes, K’uk’ulkan. But, it is an urgent matter, pertaining to your kingdom,” she replied pointedly, shooting him a withering look before exiting the hut. He didn’t move until he heard the splash of her departure from the caverns.

He looked down at Shuri who was burying her face in his shoulder, no doubt embarrassed. He wanted to strangle his cousin.

“Princess,” he kissed her temple, “forgive Namora's intrusion. I will talk to her sternly about her lack of boundaries.”

“Hasn’t she heard of knocking?!” the princess screeched, clearly in distress. He sighed . There was no salvaging this moment.

Not just because of Namora’s interruption, but because he knew his cousin; if she risked his ire in such a way, it must actually be for something urgent.

He groaned in resentment, as he slid from the warm sheath of the woman beneath him, regretting it the moment he did.

Shuri covered her face with her hands and groaned.

“ I am so eternally sorry Princess. Tell me, what can I do to make it right?”

She sighed and slid up from under him, gathering the blanket to cover her naked body. He frowned and cursed his cousin again in his mind.

“ It’s not your fault, there’s nothing to do, except install a door for next time,” she poked his shoulder and he chuckled at her pout. So there she wanted there to be a next time...

“Oh and teach your general about knocking and privacy,” she grumbled, folding her arms.

He got up and pulled on his shorts, reluctantly, donning his neck piece and arm bracers, the princess watching his every move sadly. His heart broke.

He sat back on the bed and pulled her to him by the back of the neck, into a deep, slow kiss to remind her of the passion they shared a moment ago.

She sighed and he pressed his forehead to hers.

“I would not leave you if I had a choice, but my duty to my people comes first.”

“I know. I would never ask you to stay. I’m just…” she shrugged.

He tilted her chin to meet his gaze.

“Will you wait for me? I will do everything in my power to return to you with haste.”  He reached under the blanket and rubbed her thighs.

He watched as she chewed the inside of her cheek, a habit he noticed whenever she was weighing a matter.

“ I should probably go check on Riri, catch her up on our discussion earlier regarding the sponges.”

Maybe he should have killed the scientist after all, he mused.

“ Then I’ll come back here and take a nap until you return. This bed is so comfortable after all,” she swiped her palms over the sheets and waggled her eyebrows at him.

He repented of his murderous thoughts.

Pulling her into one final embrace he kissed her forehead, her nose and finally her lips .

“Wait for me, Princess , and I promise I will make up for this … inconvenience upon my return.”

She kissed him back. “ I will wait for you, K’uk’ulkan. Bast herself would have to tear me away.” She laughed and flicked his nose.

Feeling more assured, he gave her ankle a squeezed and walked out of the hut towards the pool, his rage returning the instant he was out of her sight.

He cut through the current leading to the throne room to find his general. He was going to have a serious talk with his general. He was grateful to Chaac that Shuri had been so forgiving but she would be the only one.

Namora would be scraping barnacles off of sunken ships every morning for the foreseeable future .

Chapter Text

“FUCK!” Shuri yelled into a pile of pillows when she was sure Namor and his Bast-damned general were out of earshot.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, fucking fuck!!!!” she punctuated each expletive with a forceful, frustrated fist slamming into the mattress.

She sat up and gazed down at her nakedness, her thighs still slick with the mess they had been making together, she and Namor. A mess that his stupid cousin, with her stupid face and her stupid lionfish headdress had stopped from getting much, much bigger.

“Stupid Namora and her stupid face mask. You can’t even breathe air, anyway, why are you here?!” Shuri argued with no one as she got dressed in the painfully empty hut which just minutes ago, was filled with her cries of ecstasy as she was approaching her bliss.

“One minute,” she shoved a leg roughly into the almost see-through pants she had gotten from Xelha that morning, “she could have waited one more minute!” She pulled the dress-like blouse over her head.

“But noooooo,” she continued her tirade against the imaginary general, “that stupid, petty, insufferable coy fish waited until I was about to- “

She stopped and sighed with a frustration that came from a deep place within her soul.

Until I was about to have the best orgasm of my life.

Shuri was not a violent woman, but she prayed physical injury fall upon Namora.

The princess turned to face the bed and smiled. It was so comfortable and warm, even with the dampness of the cavern. And beautiful. He had put so much care and detail into this gift to her. All she had wanted to do was show him her gratitude in the most passionate of ways but his stupid, interfering, disruptor of a general would not let them be!

 She bit her lip and smiled despite her irritation at his cousin, recalling the way he had looked at her, how he had felt inside her, the words he said to her when he-

‘In yakunaj’

She froze. In yakunaj he had called her, over and over in her ear when he was slamming into her body with the force of a titan. Yakunaj. But that means-

Love.

Her breath caught in her throat; her mind was racing. Love. She wanted to say that she had heard him wrong, but she had promised to stop lying to herself when it came to Namor. In yakunaj; she was not sure how the language worked yet but she knew whatever he was saying had to do with love.

Did he love her? Is that why he gave her his mother’s bracelet? Her hand fiddled with the jade piece encircling her wrist and she chewed the inside of her cheek. Is this why he was acting so oddly earlier? A nervous giggle bubbled up in Shuri’s throat and suddenly she felt dizzy. Sitting on the bed to steady herself, she launched into deep thought.

He had said the word love, that part was certain, but maybe he was saying he loved what they were doing, or he loved how she felt, or smelled. It could have been anything, the possibilities were endless! That thought sobered her and her breathing began to regulate with logic prevailing once more. She did not want to get carried away with schoolgirl fantasies. Not just yet.

Besides, she was not sure if she wanted to know if he loved her or not, since she did not know if she loved him. She plucked at the blankets on the bed absent-mindedly as she took personal inventory. She admired him, she knew that much, and she respected him. He made her laugh but challenged her often and his ever-changing moods drove her crazy. However, she coveted his company, and his mind was fascinating. He had so much knowledge and had seen so much; she could listen to him speak for hours.

Not only that, but he was brilliant! He engineered a vibranium sun, underwater! She would never admit it to him but finding out that he could invent something so innovative was the catalyst to her attraction for the underwater monarch.

Plus, it did not hurt that he was the most beautiful man on whom she had ever laid eyes. She craved him whenever they were apart, even more so now that there was unfinished business between them. Her womanhood ached at the thought.

No, she did not love him yet. But she could admit that it was only a matter of time.

Smiling, Shuri sauntered toward the table in the center of his hut where their uneaten meal sat. She grabbed the bowl with her favorite corn cakes to share with Riri and Xelha, excited to be returning to them with great news for once. She couldn’t wait to see the American’s reaction when she found out that she would be released once they finished project sponge.

It was almost unhinged, the smile on her face, but Shuri was ridiculously happy, a feeling that her heart never thought it would host again. Almost skipping to the cavern where her companions awaited, the princess began to hum a love song under breath, her mind drifting to her royal paramour. Wherever he was, she hoped he was thinking of her as well.

Okan mi le
Okan mi le, o le koko
Shobi shoni m'eran ni?
Tired of gettin' it wrong
This won't be another heartbreak song

She sang softly under her breath as she made her way to meet her charge in their designated quarters. She let her mind imagine all the ways in which she and Namor would ravage each other upon his return. Would they be gentle and take their time, savoring every inch of skin, every sigh, every touch, now that they had gotten a preview of what it felt like to become one? Or would their interrupted passion send them crashing into each other, clawing, grasping, devouring each other, frantic and frenzied with lust? Shuri decided she wanted both.

Much like when she was a child on her way to bother her older brother, she swung her arms playfully as she made her way to the cavern, her head bobbing, left and right, still singing softly under her breath,

Somebody's son go love me one day
One day
I don dey wait, don't stay too far away

She entered the cave and shot Riri a toothy grin, signaling success. She wanted to outline the plan for the next few days they had ahead of them as thoroughly but as quickly as she could get away with. She had made a promise to her K’uk’ulkan that she would be in bed awaiting his return.

She did not want him to come and not find her there. Shuri was very passionate about promise keeping lately.

_________________________________________

“NAMORA!”

Namor’s voice sent shockwaves through the water in the throne room, causing his cousin to wince, but he did not care. He could still taste his princess on his tongue and had it not been for Namora, she would have been lying in his bed, sated, full of his seed.

Instead, she was in his hut, unsatisfied, pouty, and most likely very, very frustrated. He vowed on his life to never leave her like that again. It did not matter if the sky was falling, he would take her to completion.

He stalked angrily toward his cousin, a menacing scowl on his face. The warrior put her hands up defensively as he approached,

“I know you said that I should no longer interrupt you during coitus, but I had to this time, I swear!”

“There were rules Namora,” he said gruffly, “I gave you conditions on when it was necessary to intrude upon me in my private time. We are not under attack, nor is anyone dead or dying. Those were the rules!”

“It’s been what? Fifty years since the last time? I forgot,” Namora shrugged, seemingly unperturbed by her king’s scolding.

He dragged his hand over his face roughly just to give it something to do other than choke his general. That would not bode well for his kingdom. With a deep sigh and a calmer tone addressed her once more,

“You could have at least waited five more minutes.”

Namora scoffed, “When duty calls, we must answer. You taught me that!” she retorted, her eyes full of accusation and something else he did not give much thought to in the moment. Emboldened she pressed on, “Is the surface dweller making you forget where your priorities lie?”

His voice was low but filled with warning, “You forget yourself, Namora.”

“No, you forget yourself!” she squared her shoulders and faced him, swimming up to meet him at eye level. “Why is the scientist still alive? Why did you show the princess our city?”

The silence after her inquiries was thick and uncomfortable. She knew she was crossing a line but her frustration at having the two foreigners in their domain had reached a breaking point. She was always the one the king confided in, but ever since the arrival of those two, she had no idea what he was planning or thinking, and it unsettled her.

Namor was aware of his cousin’s fierce loyalty and protectiveness over him, but she was going to have to get used to sharing his time and attention with the princess. He would never neglect Talokan but now he had someone else who held his heart and hopefully she was in his hut , thinking of him, anticipating his return. He almost smiled then, but remembered he was supposed to be reprimanding his general.

“You dare to question the faithfulness of your god, cousin?” he raised a brow, his voice holding a quiet threat that caused Namora to shrink back.  “You embarrassed our guest. You walked in on her private moments, a royal from the most powerful nation on the surface world. That cannot go unpunished, Namora.” He watched her fidget through narrowed eyes.

“It was not my fault!” she protested, though less defiant than before. “ I called out to you from outside for five minutes, enduring those wretched noises,” she shuddered dramatically and continued, “Like two colicky dolphins. I prayed for Chaac to repossess my ears. I will be haunted for-“

“ENOUGH!”

Namora ceased speaking immediately and bowed her head.

On the surface the king’s face was a mask of fury but in his mind, he was replaying the sounds that his Shuri had made as she writhed beneath him. He needed to get back to her as soon as possible. He had a mission to finish.

“What was so urgent that you could not let me complete my affairs in peace?” he finally asked.

A stony face Namora replied, “The Queen of Wakanda has been summoning you.”

Oh.

Namor rubbed his beard in contemplation. What could she want? Perhaps…

“No doubt she wants to discuss the Princess’ letter I had Attuma deliver to her,” he concluded, turning to swim to the surface to meet the Queen.

Spear ready, Namora squared her shoulders, “I should come with you. We do not know if the Princess gave her instructions to ambush you.”

He paused. Furrowing his brow, her words attempting to plant seeds of doubt in his ever-suspicious mind. Did his cousin have a point? What if…

‘I have let myself want you, to want to be with you. You are my choice.’

She had not been lying when she had confessed her heart to him. Her heartbeat had remained steady, her gaze had been true. Her body was certainly not lying to him. She was his.

“I will be fine, general. However, while I am gone, occupy yourself by thinking of an appropriate punishment for your intrusion,” he smiled when he heard her gasp in surprise.

“If I am satisfied with what you have decided, I will shelve what I had in mind for you.” He looked over his shoulder, “What? Did you think the interruption of royal coupling is a victimless crime?” he chuckled, and he felt his cousin glower at his back.

Yet her voice was filled with trepidation as she yelled after him, “Be careful K’uk’ulkan, I do not trust the Wakandans.”

“Neither do I,” he yelled back and sped towards the surface, “but I trust Shuri,” he finished to himself.

He hoped the meeting with the Queen was short, because what he planned to do with her daughter required a lot of time.

______________________________________

“When do you think, we will get started cuz the sooner the better if you ask me,” Riri asked Shuri after hearing that the god king had agreed to let her go, once they completed the project and tested the sponges.

“I don’t know but I hope by tomorrow. I have to go back now to wait for him. I can ask then,” the princess responded, rubbing the American’s shoulders.

“Yeah, sure, that’s why you wanna go back to wait for your king boyfriend,” Riri teased, poking her in the rib with an elbow, making Xelha giggle.

“He is not my boyfriend!” Shuri denied weakly, doing her utmost to hide a smile that did not want to stay contained at the mention of Namor. It had yet been an hour but already, she missed him.

“Uh huh, and I’m not in an underwater cave right now,” the young scientist pursed her lips and rolled her eyes and walked over to fling herself unceremoniously into her hammock.

“Anyway, like I was saying, the sooner the better. I can’t wait to get out of here and have big, fat , juicy cheeseburger,” she closed her eyes and groaned, then sat up quickly and looked at Shuri apprehensively, “ you guys do have cheeseburgers in Wakanda right?”

Shuri chuckled and nodded, “Yes, you will have all the cheeseburgers you can stomach.”

“Yes!” she punched the air in victory.

Enticed by the bowl of fruit near Xelha, Shuri walked over to the young handmaiden with a smile and reached for a piece of papaya.

Just then she saw movement in the corner of her eye and a flash of green. No, it couldn’t be…

Everything moved so fast.

Nakia motioning for her come join her.

The guard on duty yelling something she could not understand.

Riri’s voice urging her to listen to Nakia.

The guard raising her spear to hurl at her.

Nakia shooting the guard down.

Screams filling the cavern.

A frightened Xelha grabbed her from behind, barely able to reach her neck, the knife in her hand shaking as the frightened handmaiden attempted, reluctantly, to restrain her friend, as Nakia trained her weapon in their direction.

“Shuri, move your hand to the left,” Nakia commanded her in Xhosa.

You do not understand you will ruin everything, this will mean war! Did mother not get my letter?” Shuri screeched, desperately trying to salvage the situation.

“What letter? Shuri move your hand! We do not have much time!” Nakia motioned with her sonic blaster looking around for any potential Talokanil reinforcements that was surely on the way.

Shuri’s mind was racing, and it was getting hard to breathe. She was about to have a panic attack. This was all wrong! She had just reached an agreement with the king and now one of his guards was dead at the hand of Wakanda. How was she going to explain this? Would he even listen?

“Princess, I don’t know who this woman is but I think we should listen to her,” Riri urged her.

“Wait! Just wait!” she held her hands out to Riri and Nakia. Immediately she heard and felt the sonic blaster go off hitting a target directly behind her. She felt the handmaiden crumple to the floor behind her.

Oh no.

“Xelha!” she screamed, horror and despair choking her. No, no, no, no, no.

Blood was forming a large stain on the young Talokanil’s dress at her midsection, fear and pain in her large brown eyes, lips pale blue and quivering. Tears blurred Shuri’s vision as she reached for her hand and squeezed desperately. She could not let her die too.

She heard someone whimper and saw Xelha’s friend, Itzel, the other handmaiden who work with her, cowering behind a large stalagmite, tears streaming down her blue face from eyes wide with shock and horror. Shuri’s heart twisted in the agony that was her helplessness.

Someone grabbed roughly at her shoulder. “Shuri, we have to go now!”

“NO!” she jerked away from the war dog’s touch, “We have to save her. I can save her! Give me your beads Nakia!”

She tried to grab at the kimoyo beads on Nakia’s wrist but the war dog clamped a hand on her elbow, prying her away from the injured girl on the cavern floor. Still she tried to claw her way back.

“Shuri, I used a sonic blaster, the blow is fatal at this distance, you know this. Sisi, we have to go now!”

“You don’t understand. You’ve ruined everything! This will mean war! Let me save her,” a tearful Shuri begged but it was no use.

There were yells getting closer to the cavern and she knew then that all was lost. Nakia and Riri each grabbed an elbow and dragged a hysterical Shuri away from Xelha, who’s breathing had become labored. The last thing she saw before left the cavern were angry Talokanil warriors rushing into the cavern as the three women disappeared into the water.

As they cut through the water towards the surface, Shuri would not be surprised if the sea level had risen that day on account of the tears, she shed leaving Talokan against her will, breaking her promise to her Namor and dreading his retaliation at her breaking his trust and his heart.

_________________________________________

The queen of Wakanda stood on the shores of Cape Verde, a vision in white, the picture of regality and aloofness, but Namor could hear her heart beating wildly in her chest. His cousin’s warning echoed in his head. Keenly he listened for the signs that there were others lying in wait for him, but he heard nothing. Still, he kept his wits about him as he always did when on the surface. While he trusted his princess, he did not trust her mother.

There was a look of thinly veiled disgust on the face of the queen which amused him. He was used to being seen as a monster. No matter. He did not need her to like him, only to respect him and the agreement made between him and Shuri.

Before he could say a word, Ramonda began,

“Is my daughter alive?”

“The princess is alive and well. She requested to be taken to Talokan, where she will remain for the time being,” he replied with a half-smile, hoping to ease the tension, and put her mind at ease.

While he did not care for nor need her approval, he hoped that dispelling the hostility between them would make her more amenable to the idea of him courting her daughter, which in turn would possibly encourage Shuri to spend more time in Talokan, with him, guilt-free. So, for his itzia, he could be on his best behavior and charm the queen.

Ramonda’s heart was still beating loudly when she asked, “What can I offer you in exchange?”

“Nothing,” he said, smiling sincerely. There was nothing he wanted in this world besides safety for his people and Shuri. Why was there an offer being made anyway? Did the princess tell her mother she wanted to leave? Was she unhappy? Namora’s words rang in his ear again.

“I beg to differ,” the queen countered. “The Americans are preparing to blame Wakanda for your attack in the Atlantic. Return my daughter and the scientist, or I will inform them of your existence.”

He admired her bravery, he did, because it was undoubtedly the source of Shuri’s own. But she had just threatened his nation, and her being Shuri’s mother was the only thing guaranteeing her next breath. She needed to know that his mercy was not infinite.

Closing the distance between them, he stared down at the queen, unblinking, his voice deep and measured, a bone-chilling calm to his next words,

“If you tell the Americans about us, if you try to find us, or if I find a single Wakandan ship in the ocean, I will keep the Princess, I will come to Wakanda and I will kill you.”

With that he turned around and headed towards the waves. Something was not right. He needed to talk to the princess immediately. The threat by the queen was not what he was expecting when he came to the surface. He had anticipated alliance negotiations, not a request for the princess and the scientist.

Maybe his general was on to something. He needed to ask his princess exactly what she had written in the letter. He trusted Shuri but he had a feeling that, between him and her mother, he was the only one who did. Why else would she have come to him so antagonistically? Unless…

No. He banished the thought as he dived into the ocean, charting a course to Talokan.  The princess was pure of heart and would not betray him. He was almost certain of it.

Almost.

Chapter Text

“Mama!”

A tearful Shuri embraced her mother. For a moment her mother’s warm and familiar embrace, her lilac-perfumed skin, made her forget the dumpster fire that she had left behind in the depths. Her mother was holding on to her like a lone shipwreck survivor clinging to driftwood. The hug was desperate, her grip vicelike, the queen’s relief almost tangible.

When her mother finally pulled away Shuri took her in. She was a striking woman, Ramonda, but in the week they had been apart, it seemed like weariness and worry had etched new lines into the corners of her eyes and mouth. It was not lost on Shuri the tremendous burdens that her mother carried since the death of her husband and son, and she could only imagine the terror that must have gripped her when she found out that her youngest had gone to Talokan and offered herself in exchange for the scientist.

Shuri understood all this and yet she could not help but be angry at her for not trusting her. Had she not gotten the letter? Why would she do this, knowing all that was at stake?

Her mother grasped her shoulders, voice trembling, “Did he hurt you?” she demanded, her eyes searching Shuri’s frantically for some sign that she had suffered horrors in the deep. If the situation was not so dire, she would have laughed. He did the exact opposite of hurt me, mother.

She gripped her mother’s elbows and squeezed reassuringly, shaking her head, ‘No mother, no one hurt me. No one hurt us.” She looked at Riri being held by Nakia, relief clearly written on the scientist’s face.

“Yeah, they fed us and everything,” Riri chimed in awkwardly, drawing a tight smile from the queen.

“Thank you, Nakia, for bringing them back.”

“It was my pleasure Queen Mother.”

Shuri frowned, her irritation and trepidation swelling in her chest, threatening to stifle her. Why did her mother take lethal action to bring her back? Why make such a drastic preemptive strike? Something was not right.

“Mother,” she began cautiously, her brows furrowed, “why did you send Nakia? Did you not get my letter?”

There was a quiet in the ship as they made their way at top speed to Wakanda.  The Queen took a deep breath and cocked her head to the side.

“What letter, daughter?”  she asked busying herself with smoothing the princess’ curls, not quite looking her in the eye but not appearing to avoid eye contact either.

“The letter I sent to you, to tell you I chose to come to Talokan, that I negotiated an alliance with Namor, that I needed you to stand down and trust me?!”

By the end she was almost shrieking, her voice growing shrill. They had taken her away from Namor , killed two of his people, killed her friend, and he would never forgive her. Worst, he would try to burn them along with the rest of the surface world. Just a few hours ago he was inside her…

“You are in no position to make agreements on behalf of Wakanda child! That monster knew this! He took advantage of a young, naïve girl- “

“I am not a girl mother! I am a woman!”

“You are a mere child! You are brilliant my dear, none smarter than you exists, but you are not the queen of Wakanda, I am! He deliberately disrespects me by bypassing me and going to you, that devious, cowardly, underhanded-“

“He is none of those things, mother! He is a king who loves his people just as much as you do! I met them, they treated me kindly. I saw his kingdom, mother it was fascinating and beautiful. They are so much like us. You must let me go back, please. Maybe if I explain what happened I can stop-“

“Enough, Shuri!”

Everyone in the Royal Talon flinched and went silent, eyes wide.

The Queen took a step towards her daughter and narrowed her eyes.

“Did you know that he threatened to kill me and keep you?”

Shuri gasped. “When did he do that?”

“ A couple hours ago, when I summoned him to ask him to return you to me and release Miss Williams.”

Shuri’s mind was reeling. Her mother never got her. Why make a show of telling her to write it and promise to deliver it only to not have it reach Wakanda. Why would he lie? Also, minutes after leaving her in his bed he threatened to kill her mother. Even after everything that they had been shared, everything she had told him of her grief, he still threatened to take away the one person she had left.

She couldn’t breathe. Maybe her mother was right. She was naïve and he was five-hundred-year-old cunning serpent who smelled her eager, foolish self from a mile away. He charmed her, seduced her, whispered promises of love in her ear all for what? To laugh at her? To gain access to Wakanda just to destroy it? To exploit their weakness? She tasted bile at the back of her throat. She was going to be sick.

How could she be so foolish? She had been so lonely and sad that she made herself an easy target and played right into his hands. None of it was real. She shuddered.

“He is going to attack Wakanda,” Shuri said quietly.

“I dare him to try.”

_______________________________________

Namor forewent his usual handmaiden assistance as he donned his royal regalia. His fury was too deadly at the moment, his heartbreak too fresh. More than anything, he was embarrassed.

He wasn’t ambushed by the Queen but she had drawn him out while sending a spy to murder his children and take the princess and the scientist away. He had returned, eager to reunite with the the princess, but instead he had met a dead guard and a dead handmaiden, the princess and that bloody scientist gone, snatched from his home by treacherous Wakandan hands.

He circled his neck with his usual pearls and jade with shells, then the large gold and vibranium plate. It all felt heavier today.

How could he have been so blind? Why would she leave?

‘Because she is a surface dweller and all of them are wretched’, a slither tongued voice answered his queries.

She promised to wait for me, his heart retorted, she was not lying.

Or maybe she was so deceitful that her lies were the truth to her.

She was his. She swore it to him and he believed her. They had taken her but he could not forgive her for not fighting to stay, to remain with him and keep her word.

‘Bast herself could not tear me away’, she had promised him. Liar. Unless Bast confirmed that she was Shuri’s kidnapper, he would make her pay for compromising him and Talokan in this way.

He cursed himself because even now, even with the sting of betrayal fresh, he wanted her. He wanted to go fetch her and drag her back to the cavern, chain her to the bed she asked for and make her atone for the chaos she brought into his home. He wanted her because despite what he was about to do, he loved her.

It matter not. He loved Talokan more. Two of his children were dead and it was her fault. No, he corrected mentally, it was his fault, and he was the one who forgot his vow to have no love for the surface world.

And now his two children paid the price for his lapse in judgement. Dead in his home, in his service, the safest place any Talokanil could be. His child, praying to her god to save her, and he could not, she died in his arms.

Her family deserved vengeance. Talokan deserved vengeance. He would give it to them.

He put on his gold and jade feathered serpent headpiece. Taking a deep breath, he sent a silent prayer to Chaac for strength and protection for his warriors. He had been blinded with the hopes of a partnership with another secluded vibranium rich country and in doing so he had compromised his nation. There was no sugar coating in accountability, and he had never lied to his people, and he would not start now.

All he could do was come clean and pray that his consistency of character was enough to earn their forgiveness for his failure, and enough to follow him to Wakanda for the retribution his children deserve.

He steps out of the hut, his red and gold cape sweeping behind him. Before plunging into the pool that led to Talokan, he stops and adjusts his headpiece.

Heavy is the head that wears the crown.

________________________________________

“Princess! It is so good to have you back! The city has been on edge since your capture,” Zele, Shuri’s lab tech said walking alongside the princess as she enters her lab for the first time since her return.

She had one thing on her mind right now and it was not small talk.

“We need to fortify the sonic barriers, especially along the water ways. Make sure we double patrols near the rivers and report any and all unusual activity, no matter how insignificant it may seem. Do you understand?” She replied without sparing him a glance, her focus already locked.

“Yes, Princess,” he responded, saluting her with arms crossing his chest before he scurried away to relay her requests to the rest of the team.

At her desk she pulled up the inventory for the national armory when Aneka came up behind her and called for her attention timidly.

“Princess? I just came to return these,” the Dora handed her two vibranium daggers she had given her to test in the field a couple weeks before.

Shuri looked down at them in confusion, “Did they not work?”

“No , they worked perfectly but-“

“Then keep them,” she turned back to the hologram with figures and formulae in front of her , taking stock on what sectors of their armed forces needed reinforcement before Namor launched his inevitable attack. The last thing she wanted to do was to leave Wakanda as a sitting duck. She needed to do something. She could not fail again. Her heart would not survive it.

Over her shoulder Aneka still lingered, “So I heard you saw an underwater empire. Is it as magnificent as you say?”

“Yes Aneka, it is beautiful. But these people are very dangerous. We need to stay vigilant before-“

Just then red lights began flashing as an emergency alarm began blaring in the lab causing a flurry of chaotic movement among the staff. Aneka and Shuri shot each other worried looks.

Immediately Shuri walked to her worktable and grabbed a set of kimoyo beads as her mother’s call came in over the ones on her wrist.

“Shuri! Where are you?”

“I am making my way to the city right now. Griot! Activate the Sunbird!”

“Shuri, stand down! That is an order!”

Shuri was incredulous. Did her mother expect her to stay hidden like a child and do nothing? Impossible.

“Mother, I am with Aneka. We can provide air support!” She protested grabbing the beads paired to the Sunbird’s navigational system.

The queen, sensing there was no getting through to her stubborn daughter , addressed the young Dora instead.

“Aneka, do not let Shuri leave the lab!”

Before Aneka could respond Shuri intercepted.

“Mother you’re breaking up. That’s so crazy. Suddenly I can’t hear you.”

Aneka’s eyes widened in shock.

“Shuri!” her mother yelled over the beads.

“…I can’t hear you mother! Love you, bye!” with that she ended the call, smiling at the mortified bald soldier before her.

“You just hung up on the queen,” the Dora said in disbelief.

Unperturbed Shuri began to move toward the hangar.

“I just hung up on my mom. There’s a difference. Come!” she shot over her shoulder as she took off towards the Sunbird, adrenaline coursing through her at an alarming rate.

She knew without being told that it was him. He was here and he had come to be the monster that he was. Even knowing this did not change the way her stomach flipped at the prospect of seeing him again. She cursed herself as she entered the pilot seat of the Sunbird.

Everything had been a lie. He had manipulated her to get to Wakanda and she needed to remember that today and pull no punches if she had to face him in combat. He was a stupid, vile sea pigeon and she was going to pluck him till he was raw and make him regret ever trespassing on Wakanda.

As she flew off Mount Bashenga toward Bernin Zana, she forced the memories of his lips, his hands , his eyes from her mind.

“None of it was real.”

“What wasn’t real?” Aneka asked behind her, alerting her that she had voiced her internal dialogue.

“Nothing. Let’s go kick some ass.”

It’s what he deserved for breaking her heart.

_______________________________________

Having had a group of sirens already gone ahead of him to disarm Wakanda’s first response team, Namor emerged from the river on the shores of what appeared to be an outdoor market, where Namora and a small group of warriors awaited him.

“We have lured their defenses away from the palace. It is up to you now,” his general informed him.

Before he could acknowledge her information, his ears twitched at the sound of movement behind him. Raising a fist to block the blow, he splintered the wooden weapon of his assailant, looking over his shoulder he saw a tall, burly man with wooden armor and a skirt made of plant fiber holding the end of what must have been a staff.

A mild irritation.

Pivoting, he swung and landed a fist in the center of the furry man’s chest plate, sending him careening into a stall across the river, several feet away and then turned his attention back to his nacom.

“Thank you, Namora,” he gently pulled her forehead against his. She was always dependable in battle. He was grateful for her.

His ears twitched again, the sound of mechanical vibration disturbing the air to his left, no doubt a Wakandan ship. Suddenly, he heard a battle cry and turned to see a large saucer like ship flying toward them, firing blasts towards him and his warriors.

His warriors dived into the river for cover, but he stood his ground, allowing the ship to draw closer, deflecting the blasts with his spear. When he deemed it close enough, he flew into the air, like he was bounding up an invisible staircase to the bald women in the aircraft, his vibranium spear in hand. With a flourish, he evaded a round of blasts with a spin, using the momentum to slice through the craft sending it crashing into the ground below.

To his left and right, more blasts came his way and two more ships took offensive formation in attempt for a coordinated strike. He smirked as he made quick work of the vessels, spinning, and flying out of reach for their attack, the vessels unable to match his speed. Feinting to the left then right, he distracted the pilots for a second, long enough to slice through the wings of one of the aircrafts, dip below and impale it with his spear and only then tossing it to its counterpart, sending both hurtling out of the sky to the water below.

He landed on a wooden bridge to see a large, wasp-like aircraft flying towards him, in the pilot’s seat…

Her.

There she was wide eyed and still beautiful. Temptress.

She deceived you, he reminded himself, however his blood, already teeming with adrenaline, did not listen, but heated at the sight of the princess. The woman he had wanted to make his queen. Here she was, ready to kill him. Despite it all, his heart twisted painfully inside him chest. He knew what he needed to do, however he would not lie to himself. He still wanted her. But he hated that he did.

Two blue blasts broke him from his reverie, and he flew towards her ship with extraordinary speed intending to dispatch of her as quickly and thoughtlessly as he did the others. But he needed water first.

With the princess still shooting at this back, he turned and dived into the river below. Standing at the bottom he watched the princess circle above him shooting into the water.

Only days ago, he had been inside her, whispering his devotion to her, pouring out his love, promising her a life of pleasure, a throne, a place beside him. Now, here they sparred, lovers turned enemies. Deep down, he had always known she was too good to be true. He had already been given mutant strength and immortality. The gods would not be so generous as to bless his greedy heart with true love too. And from a surface dweller no less! Maybe old age was wearing at his good senses after all.

Suddenly he needed to get it over with and get out of Wakanda, so he could return to his home and begin to forget her. With a yell of frustration, he shot out of the water into the air behind her ship. He twisted his body into a half pike, flipping over the bald woman in the ship with Shuri, landing at the front of the ship, face to face with his former lover, a layer of transparent glass separating them.

“You deceived me!” he growled at the princess as he drove his spear deep into the hull of the plane. Their eyes met, and for a moment they were both frozen, hurt, anger, betrayal mirrored in each other’s gaze.

With a grunt, he dislodged his spear from the aircraft and rode it down to the water, tearing his eyes away from the princess as she submerged, heading to towards his target in the palace.

It did not take him long to get to the palace where the Queen and the scientist stood at the window. Good, they had kept her in Wakanda. At least they kept that part of the promise. Everyone he had to kill was in one place. He landed on the ledge and stabbed the glass with all his might. It barely made a crack. Clever. It would only slow him down for now, but one way or another, the scientist must die. A life for a life.

As if sensing his thoughts, the Queen of Wakanda squared her shoulders and pulled the American behind her in protection, staring him down, as if daring him to attack.

Foolish woman. Just like her son, putting the outside world ahead of their own safety, knowing the evil they were capable of. If time and history had not taught Wakanda the error of their ways, then he would be their greatest lesson.

Lesson one, never trust the Americans. You will only end up collateral damage in the end. He stabbed at the glass again, causing a spider web of fissures to form on the surface, the queen and the scientist to jumping, startled. Their fear strengthened him.

Lesson two, always trust the word of the feathered serpent god. He had told the queen if she had tried to find him in the ocean, he would come to Wakanda and kill her. He never broke his promises. A maniacal smile touched his lips as resolute stubbornness replaced the fear in the queen’s eyes. Despite their current circumstances, he admired her bravery, it reminded him of the princess.

Keep me instead.

As he flew away to gather reinforcements, Itzel’s words came back to him.

“She tried to save her,” she had whispered quietly to her god, as Namora and Attuma raged over the deaths of their battle sister and the handmaiden. 

“What did you say my child?” he had asked, even though he had heard her clearly.

“The princess, before they took her, she tried to save her. She tried to save Xelha.”

The girl had no reason to lie. Xelha had been her friend. He had dismissed it then but now the memories came back.

She broke her promise, so I must keep mine, he thought, flying down to Namora near the marketplace to collect their water bombs. She handed him a net with five bombs and returned to the water.

As he flew towards the palace once more, he cursed the hesitation that was taking seed in his heart. He was father and king to his people. He had failed them. He had led danger straight to them and he must make it right, even though it meant hurting the princess he loved irreparably. She broke him first.

Before he lost his nerve, he tossed the water bombs at his targets,

“N’awej t’a’ataje!”

The glass shattered with the force of the water pressure, flooding the throne room and all in it. He watched as the glass floor shattered creating a vortex that pulled the scientist and the queen under. As he watched them disappear his heart twisted in pain. He had never once regretted dispatching an enemy, but this enemy was the mother of the love of his life. Her only family.

“She tried to save her.”

A frustrated cry tore painfully from his throat into the air as he flew towards the drowning pair descending further into the depths. Swimming quickly before he changed his mind, he grabbed the queen by her elbow and pulled her semi-conscious body through the opening in the shattered glass floor and flew out the way he came, ready to head back to Talokan.

He heard a splash over his shoulder and watched in disbelief as the queen looked around frantically and then dived back into the waters from which Namor had just pulled her!

His gripped his spear in rage, feeling the vibranium rubbing his skin raw. How dare she?

What was so special about this American that the queen would risk her life for her, even after he pulled her from a certain watery death. He would not do it again!

If she could not care about Wakanda enough, if the queen did not care about her daughter enough to save herself, then she deserved to die by his estimation. He would never abandon Shuri if she was his, how could her mother so thoughtlessly risk abandoning her, over a stranger? Shuri deserved better.

Rage filled his heart as he watched her grab the scientist and struggle to swim to the surface, a sneer of disgust on his face. If the princess and the queen were an indication of the country’s affinity for the surface dwellers who pillage and colonize then Wakanda deserved whatever fate came their way.

The doors of the throne room burst open, and he watched as a bald woman in blue and a woman with red locs and green garments rush towards the queen and the scientists who lay, unmoving on the palace floor.  They quickly sprang into action and began attempts to revive the previously submerged women.

He heard her heartbeat before she entered the room.

“She did this!” he bellowed at the women in the room, watching as Shuri ran in.

“Mother! Mother!” she screamed hoarsely over and over. He refused to show how deeply her painful cries were affecting him.

“…two, three, four, five…” someone counted as they pulsed the chest of the scientist.

“…Griot! Check the vitals of Queen Mother…” another yelled.

More people ran into the room, helping the others restrain an inconsolable Shuri who was trying to claw her way to her mother’s body. He would allow his heart to fall to pieces when he was alone in Talokan. But for now, he would have mercy on Wakanda. Two lives for two lives. The debt was paid. He would give her one last chance to be the queen for Wakanda that her mother could not be.

“In one week’s time I will return with my entire army, and you will join us against the surface world,” he declared, “or I will wash Wakanda from the face of the earth.”

He found the princess’ eyes and his rage lost steam. He pointed to her slowly and said gently,

Bury your dead. Mourn your losses. You are queen now.”

With that, he flew away before he could see the hatred in her eyes that he was sure was there. But it was for the best. His final act of love. It was better she think him the monster that killed her mother than to know that her mother chose saving a stranger over being there for her.

He prayed that for her nation's sake she would not let her spite for him take them to war. He was eager to destroy the surface world, but less so now that he knew she was in it.

He plunged into the waters of Wakanda’s pure river and headed back to Talokan at top speed.

In the solitude of the current, he gave himself the grace to recall how fierce she had looked shooting at him, a fire he had not seen before in her eyes, a fire that matched his own. He could not deny the stirring he had felt below his belly when their eyes met in battle. And he had listened to her beating wildly in her chest from more than just the adrenaline of their fight. She had felt it too.

He hoped for both their sakes the princess makes the right choice.

___________________________________________________

Back in the lab, Shuri paced to and fro in front of a 3-D hologram of the former attempts at recreating the heart shape herb.

“Griot! I need an update on mother.” She chewed the inside of her lip and wrung her hands, palms sweaty as she waited for her AI’s report.

“The Queen Mother is still in a coma, Princess. Her heart is showing signs of sinus bradycardia, blood oxygen levels remain low.”

“Chances of her waking up?” she asked shakily.

“Less than four percent, Princess.”

Tears spilled onto Shuri’s cheeks. Hot and burning, like her rage. Her mother had been telling the truth. He did come to kill her. Even after everything they had shared, he had come and all but taken her mother away from her.

She was going to destroy him if it was the last thing she did.

She went back to her desk, looking over the notes from a year ago, when she had tried to replicate the heart shaped herb to save her brother. She had failed then, but she refused to fail now. She would recreate the herb to save her mother and when her mother was better, they would lay waste to Namor.

When she was done with him, she promised he would know fear.

Chapter Text

She would never tell the rest of them how she recreated the heart-shaped herb. Not really. All she had offered when Nakia had asked was that she had the idea come to her in her sleep, some new information that she had not had a year ago when her brother was at death’s door.

The “new information” was in fact the Namor’s mother’s bracelet. And she did not lie, not exactly. She did have an epiphany late one night, when she was plotting defense strategies against the Talokanil and crafting weapons that would weaken their enhanced abilities.

Aneka had reminded her that, before he attacked, Namor would go into the water and speculated that perhaps, it was the water that fueled his strength. Riri suggested jokingly that they find a way to dehydrate him  to weaken him and give them a fighting chance.

But, even if they defeated Namor, how could they apply this to the rest of his army, who surely would not rest until they avenged their king?

As if in a trance, his voice filled her bedroom that night as she tried in vain to fall asleep, retelling the story of the shaman who had a vision from Chaac, that allowed the Talokanil to breathe underwater, strengthening their bodies to withstand the ocean pressure. At the time, she had been struck with how similar their stories were to that of Bashenga’s vision from Bast, but now she wondered if the parallels went further than just the origin story. What if their plants were similar, even if their gods were not?  

The only thing she would need was a sample of the Weber Azul from Talokan. But how would she ever get it? She had no idea where exactly the Talokanil gardens were located and she was quite certain that even if she did know, the place would be heavily guarded and the orders would most definitely be kill on sight for any outsider, much less for the Wakandans. She had groaned in frustration and draped a forearm over her forehead.

She had reached for her kimoyo beads to pull up a map of the Yucatan peninsula; maybe there was a chance that a remnant or relative of the plant was still in the forests there somewhere. She did not need much. If only she could get her hands on a sample …

Something caught her eye as she brought the screen from her kimoyo beads closer to observe the vegetation on the images before her. His mother’s bracelet, made with the plant that saved them, was on her wrist! Her eyes had grown wide when she realized she did have a sample and she had been carrying it around all this time!

There were few cheetahs in the savannah that would have won a footrace with Shuri as she sped to the lab and worked through the night straight into the next, ignoring all calls and requests that she nourish herself. She had one singular focus; recreate the heart shaped herb, save her mother.

She lost count at the number of attempts she made but on the second day of attempts at printing Nakia and Riri ignored her requests to be left alone and accosted her in the lab.

“You cannot keep going like this, usisi” Nakia’s concerned brown eyes tried to find hers, but she kept her gaze glued to her screens.

“Did you we finish evacuating the city?” Shuri replied coldly, barely sparing Nakia a glance.

She heard the older woman sigh. “Yes, the elders are with the Jabari right now, asking for more space from M’Baku.”

She snorted. “I am sure he is loving that,” she quipped.

“Are you sure you don’t want anything to eat, Princess?” Riri asked quietly.

Shuri looked up and asked Bast for patience. She knows they mean well but they are interrupting her workflow. She is so close. Her last attempt was at 87% success rate. She needed to be closer to 100% to save her mother, who on her last update was teetering at a 2% chance of reviving on her own, vitals even worse than the previous days.

“What I need,” she said through clenched teeth, “is to be left alone so I can focus. Namor is coming back with his whole army in less than three days and my mother lies at death’s door.”

She spun around and say the two women watching her with pity in their eyes. It irritated her to her core. They did not understand. They could not.

“How can we help,” Nakia offered, and an annoyingly calm voice that grated Shuri’s nerves.

“It would help if you stay out of my way while I work. I don’t need distractions. I need to save my mother.”

She did not notice the nervous glances exchanged by the spy and the scientist when she turned back to her screens.

“Griot can you pull up my last recreation attempt?”

“Yes Princess.” Before her appeared a 3-D hologram of the molecular structure of the synthesized heart shaped herb.

“Pull up my brother’s DNA after he took the herb as well please.”

“Right away Princess.” The double helix of T’Challa’s DNA molecular structure appeared next to the first hologram.

Shuri always performed well under pressure, but this is was extremely triggering, to once more have the life of her closest relative hang in the balance while she attempts to recreate the plant that could save them.

No one breathed as she worked carefully, painstakingly, calculating variables, and rearranging the atoms of the model.

After what seemed like forever after her tenth alteration, the structure slowly lit up in a green hue as opposed to the red of her previous attempts. Could it be?

Her head was splitting from a dehydration and her chest felt like it was trying to leave her chest.

“Griot, what is the success rate?”

“Ninety-seven percent.”

It was less than ideal but much more than she had ever achieved. She had to take the chance.

“What does that mean, sisi?” Nakia’s voice startled her. She had forgotten she was not alone in the lab.

“It means there is a three percent chance that this will fail and I won’t be able to save mama.” She responded more roughly than she intended to.  She paced up and down the space in front of her desk.

“Princess, should I print?” Griot’s voice sounded in the lab.

This was the highest success rate she had had since she began attempting to recreate the herb during her brother’s illness. Her mother was in critical condition, clinging to life and the threat of war was nipping at their heels. She knew she would never join Namor against the surface world, not after everything, not after what he had done. Their only option was to fight, but the country needed their queen. They could not win the war with no queen and no protector.

“Print.”

The sound of mechanical whirring filled the quiet lab as the three women watched the printer begin to construct a synthetic plant.

Noticing the pinched look on the princess’ face Nakia reached out to soothe her by running a hand up and down her bare arm. Shuri flinched, causing Nakia to wince, hurt flashing in her eyes for a quick second.

“Shuri…”

“Whatever it is can wait Nakia, I need to focus.”  Another deep sigh from Nakia.

Shuri told herself that the resentment she felt for the spy was for her abandoning them, for not coming to T’Challa’s funeral and not for taking away from Talokan. Because that would be ridiculous.

“Printing complete,” announced Griot.

“How will you know if it worked?” Riri asked.

“If it glows,” Shuri whispered in response as the three women huddled together, eyes glued on the flower before them. Suddenly it began to glow, leaves illuminated in blue and purple, instead of just purple like the ones before.

“Hey!”

“Hela!”

“Bast!”

All three of them exclaimed at the same time, watching the plant’s glow grow stronger.

Shuri was being embraced suddenly.

“You did it! You did it! You genius!” Nakia exclaimed, kissing her forehead in jubilation.

“Wakanda can have it’s protector back!”

Shuri extricated herself from Nakia’s grasp and shook her head. “Protector? That is not why I am doing this!”

“What?” the spy asked , confusion on her face. “Then why have you been working day and night on the herb if not to defeat Namor?” She took a step towards Shuri but the princess stepped out of reach.

“I am doing this to save mother, the way I failed to save my brother. I will not let her die.”

“Shuri, that might not be a good idea,” Riri cut in, “I mean, the queen’s vitals are in the tank right now and you don’t know what effect this new herb might have on her if-“

“So what? You expect me to sit by and do nothing? Namor is set to attack in three days?!”

Nakia jumped in, “Shuri, I know you want to save Queen Mother but let us think this through, this herb is synthetic, the last time we checked her vitals were barely there, but she was still breathing. What if we give her the herb and something goes wrong? Could you live with that?”

Over the intercom Griot’s voice came through,

“The Wardog is right Princess. The Queen’s last update showed her at a two percent revival rate. We have not run any tests or diagnostics. We do not know how this plant is different from the first and what effects it will have once ingested. The queen’s body has been through tremendous trauma, her brain deprived of oxygen for a long time. Unlike the Panthers of before, who were young and in good health and able to withstand the physical toll of the transformation, it is highly unlikely that the queen, in her current state, would survive.”

No one spoke and a heavy silence fell on the lab, those present witnessing the internal tug of war going on inside the Princess as she paced, clenching, and unclenching her fists.

“Fuck!” she yelled, punching her frustration into a mannequin nearby. It barely moved but the release of energy felt good. She wished it was Namor on the receiving end of her blow.

She stopped and closed her eyes. She did not know what to do. If she gave her mother the herb and her body was not able to withstand the power of the transition then she will have essentially killed her mother. On the other hand, if she did nothing, realistically, her mother might stay alive by the life support machinery in Wakanda, but she might never wake up. Decisions, decisions.

“Give it to me.”

“What?”

Shuri moved to the printer to grab the herb carefully and handed it to Nakia.

“Give it to me. If I wake up, give it to mother.”

“Princess you can’t be-“

“That is an order, Nakia!” Shuri glared at the spy, no compromise in her stare. The older Wakandan’s shoulder’s drooped in defeat as she reached for the flower from the princess.

Mounting a table, Shuri placed her kimoyo beads on her chest and instructed Riri,

“Monitor my vitals while I am out, use the beads to restart my heart if necessary.”

“Wait, what?” squeaked the American.

“Just do it!”

“Okay,” the girl mumbled, seeing that Shuri was not in the mood to repeat herself. The stakes were sky high after all.”

Nakia came back to the table with a small mortar and pestle grinding the plant into a thick liquid for Shuri to drink.

Shuri was not a woman of faith, but she prayed. She prayed to Bast and Sekhmet that the herb would work. She prayed that she could save her mother. She prayed that the ancestral plane was real and that she would see her brother.

“Allow this heart shaped herb to take you to the ancestral plane and bestow upon you the powers of the Black Panther.” Nakia began the ritual.

“T’Challa, we call upon you. Please appear to your sister in the ancestral plane.”

Nakia pour the purple liquid down her throat and began chanting.

Immediately Shuri’s insides felt both hot and ice cold, her chest was heavy, and she felt her muscles spasming while everything inside her seemed to be constricting. It felt like she was being vacuum sealed from the inside.

Just when it felt like she was going to suffocate, it all stopped, and everything faded to black.

__________________________________

It was pathetic the way he clutched the shell, waiting, hoping that the princess would summon him and agree to join him on his quest to rid the world from thorns in both their flesh. It had been four moons since he had issued his ultimatum to Wakanda. Four moons since he had last seen the princess’ face, tear-stained and anguished, trying to fight the hands keeping her away from her mother’s body.

He had spent much of this time in his temple, praying to Chaac, asking for guidance, for another path; begging for forgiveness for whatever sin he had committed that would make them give him such a love and then take it away.

He should have been spending more time with his generals planning their attack strategy. They noticed it too. But planning meant that he had accepted that he had to follow through on his promise to wash Wakanda from the face of the earth, and he was not quite ready to deal with the possibility of her no longer existing.

He cursed himself for binding himself to the promise to kill the Queen. It was a reflex to any threat to his kingdom and the second she threatened to reveal their existance to the Americans, he forgot that this was the mother of his future wife. She was someone who would compromise the safety of Talokan and as such someone who needed to be eliminated.

When he swum away that day, a small pang of regret had hit him. On the off chance that the queen was foolish enough to follow through, he would have to no choice but to keep his word and end her life. What that would mean for him and Shuri, he was not certain but he was sure it would be disastrous.

If only he had more self- control, if he was less rash, he could have thought of a way to get Wakanda to keep their word without threatening the life of the queen. At the time, this was the quickest and most natural way to get his point across. But look at the mess he made.

It was only a mess because he made the mistake of falling in love with a surface dweller. He never questioned himself or his methods before her. Now suddenly he had apprehension and a divided mind. Because the actions he must take to secure his nation will bring her harm.

Chaac damn her!

If she did not call him soon….

___________________________________

Shuri got up from the table enraged.

“It didn’t work. She said silently

It didn’t work.

“What do you mean ?”

“It didn’t work! They didn’t come for me! I recreated the herb, I did the stupid ritual, i prayed to Bast and even to Sekhmet and they abandoned me!”

“Shuri-“

“No! Save it Nakia! I failed!” Rage surged through her body, and she didn’t think twice as she punched the mannequin closest to her. Without warning, it flew across the lab, hitting the stone wall causing a giant dent, broken pieces of rock falling to the floor .

“ Holy shit,” mumbled Nakia and Riri in unison.

“Can I get some of that?” Riri asked, eyes wide.

The spy was still standing there, mouth agape.

Shuri looked at her palms in disbelief, feeling the power coursing through her veins. The air felt lighter, her vision clearer. It was like everything around her was in sharp focus, she could see, smell, feel everything, in detail, all at once . Bast…

“ I think,” Nakia hedged, coming towards her cautiously, “that it worked. I’d say it worked perfectly.”

“Shuri what you’ve done… it is miraculous. It is the greatest gift to Wakanda since the vision given to Bashenga. We have our protector once more.”  Shuri rolled her eyes.

“Where is the rest of the herb?”

Riri pointed to a desk behind Shuri. She swiveled and grabbed it, heading to the medical bay where her mother lay.

Sensing her intention, Nakia rushed to her, grabbing her arm to stay the headstrong princess.

“Shuri wait! Please! Let us run some tests before you do what I think you are about to do!”

“Unhand me, War dog. Why are you here anyway? Your mission is complete. Why haven’t you left ? Isn't that your trademark, leave in times of tragedy? Let the rest of us pick up the pieces?”

A sharp inhale from the the spy let Shuri know that she had hit her mark.

With a pained voice Nakia forged on, tightening her grip on the princess , “ I know you are angry with me but please listen! Your mother is barely clinging on to life. Her body is weak. You cannot do this, Shuri, not yet.”

“I do not have time! She needs this now,” she reiterated, distraught.

“If you rush this and it goes bad you will never forgive yourself.”

“ If I do nothing and Namor comes and drowns us all I will never forgive myself either,” she spat in response.

“Princess,” Riri ventured with a raised hand, “ I -I can help you run tests, you know, the whole two heads are better than one and all that.”

Shuri was fast losing patience. The herb was coursing through her body and she felt more alive than she had ever felt in her life. She knew if she could just get some to her mother, she would wake up.

“You don’t understand,” she began without turning back. “Neither of you understand! When this is all over you both will have your mothers. If I lose my mother I will have no one!”

Nakia’s heart broke. “Shuri…”

“ What? What is it, Nakia. Are you going to tell me that we are family? That I won’t be alone ? That I will always be your sister? The same things you say right before you disappear, everytime?”

Tears sprung to the wardog’s eyes but Shuri was unmoved.

“Unhand me, Nakia,” she repeated with a biting edge to her voice. “ I will not ask you again.”

“Shuri, please-“

Shuri turned and leveled Nakia a steely look,  pointedly dropped her gaze to the spy’s hand still on her arm, then back to her face with a raised brow.

With a sigh Nakia released her and she strode to the medical bay to save her mother.

“ Griot,” she whispered as she walked, sensing the two in the lab following somewhere behind her, “ if this does not work, what are my options?”

Discreetly her AI responded into her ear bead, “This synthetic recreation might be too unstable and unpredictable for your mother’s condition at present. We can keep her body functioning with life support measures but unless we run some extensive tests and wait for her to improve, I see no other options, save perhaps finding an non-synthetic plant with similar properties.”

She sighed. “Thanks a lot, Griot”

She walked into the medical bay, straight into the suite where her mother lay, hooked up to machines, a team of doctors around her .

Offering no explanations she barked, “Monitor her vitals, I am going to attempt to revive her.”

Whether it was the tone of her voice or the look on her face, she was not sure, but no one questioned her and sprung into actions, mumbling “Yes Princess.”

Just then Nakia and Riri burst through the doors, but Shuri shot them a warning look and they swallowed whatever they were about to say.  Instead, the two simply joined her at the mother’s side on the opposite end of the bed.

For the third time that night she sent a prayer to Bast. Gingerly, she filled a syringe with the rest of the liquified herb and began to inject it into her mother’s cannula. No sooner did she begin did the monitors start beeping and her mother’s body began to convulse.

Shuri pulled the needle immediately, shocked at the scene in front of her. She had injected no more than a drop or two of the herb! She, frozen in horror, was barely aware of arms wrapped around her hauling her outside the medical suite.

______________

Her eyes were raw and itchy from crying.

She had killed her mother. Or might as well have.

Thanks to the quick work of the efficient medical staff, her mother had been stabilized and was clinging to this plane with the help of life support, but Griot had informed her that the queen now had a less than one percent chance at revival.

Nakia tried to soothe her guilt, but Shuri was a woman of facts and science. The data was clear. Her hastiness had damn near removed any possibility her mother had to live. She needed a miracle. And time.

On the very edge of Mount Bashenga she sat, berating herself. She could not even let herself be sad because all she could feel was rage, ugly and dark, choking her.

It was his fault.

It was all Namor’s fault and he was returning in two days to attack Wakanda. As the crown princess, she could not let that happen. She needed more time. Her mother needed more time. The only way to stop him would be to agree to do wage war on the rest of the world and that was just something she could not do.

“Usisi, she is still with us. And we will do everything to keep her that way. Until we can find a solution.”

“ The solution is to kill Namor and stop him from coming to Wakanda,” she clenched her jaw , watching the sun rise on the horizon.

Her father, then her brother, would often take her here to watch the ‘most beautiful sunrise in the world’ as they rated it. How could she let her home, her country, all she held dear, be destroyed. She had to act. A plan started forming in her head.

She felt Nakia reach for her hand. “Shuri, who did you see in the ancestral plane?”

Immediately, Shuri pulled away.

“No one,” she lied, looking straight ahead.

She could not tell her that it had been her treacherous, blood thirsty cousin, N’Jadaka, who had shown up for her in the ancestral plane. The man who had nearly killed her brother, burned the heart shaped her and usurped the throne.

Nakia was too shrewd a woman to not take that as an indictment on the state of Shuri’s and whatever assumptions the spy would make she would be right.

‘You called me here. You summoned me,” he had insisted

“You’re a liar. I would never call for you.”

“Oh, but something in you did lil cuz,” he smirked, his gold canines on display.

“Where is my baba? Where is my brother?” she had cried, desperate.

The ancestral plane was real! Yet she was denied the promise of a reunion with her loved ones. No, for her disbelief and constant disregard for tradition, it seemed Bast was punishing her.

“They ain’t coming, Princess. It’s just you and me.”

The walls of the throne room had caught fire then, sprung from the water that flooded the place but made nothing wet, defying the laws of physics and nature.

Why were they here and not in the savannah with the other panthers, that T’Challa had described?

“We’ve got a lot in common, you and I,” N’Jadaka rose from the throne he had been lounging in, draped in white.

“I am nothing like you!” she had protested, disgust written on her face.

“You are everything like me! That’s why I’m here.”

She had shaken her head in denial then, trying to understand this reality.

“Why did you take the herb then?” He sneered in challenge.

“To make sure it was safe for mother.”

He made the sound of a buzzer.

“Eehk! Wrong answer. Try again.” He had been circled her like a hyena stalking an injured antelope.

“I took it to save my mother. We had no time to do tests and I- “

“Stop lying,cuz. It’s just you and me here. No judgement. Why did you really take the herb?”

He stopped in front of her, his gaze penetrating, attempting coax the truth from her.

“To be strong.”

N’Jadaka hummed in approval. “And why do you want to be strong?”

“So I can defeat Namor.”

“That’s what I thought,” her cousin chuckled.

“He damn near killed your mom, after all. So, tell me, are you gonna be a punk like your brother and let him live?”

“ Don’t you dare speak of T’Challa! Just like you, Namor will regret the day he set foot in Wakanda after I am done with him!” Fury soaked every fiber of her being.

N’Jadaka gave her a once over, and huffed skeptically, “I still don’t believe you can do what needs to be done. You’re too much like T’Challa.”

“ I am not my brother.”

“Hmmm,” her cousin stopped in front of her, sardonic smile on his face. “ Well, are you going to be noble like your brother? Or handle business, like me?”

“Shuri,” Nakia’s voice brought her back to the present, “I was there, you woke up as if you had seen a ghost. I will ask again. Who did you see?”

“It doesn’t matter Nakia. My family abandoned me. My mother is damn near dead. None of it matters. The only thing that matters is defeating Namor and keeping him away from Wakanda. You can either help me or run like you always do.”

With that, Shuri got up, leaving a perplexed Nakia slack jawed staring after her.

She knew what she needed to do now.

—————————————-

“We need more space,” Elder M’Kathu insisted to M’Baku.

The large Jabari rolled his eyes and spread his legs even wider under his skirt. He had agreed to facilitate the evacuation of the Golden City, but he was a hare’s whisker away from regretting it.

Life was less complicated when he kept to himself in the mountains.

“We have already provided accommodations for you people, what else do you want?”

“More,” the River Tribe elder responded in exasperation.

Before M’Baku could insult the man, a mechanical whirring sounded above the caves and from the Royal Talon a lithe black figure descended flipping elegantly in the air. No… Could it be…? But how?

Landing in a final flip, slightly crouch, stood a figure in a panther suit, embellished with gold and silver. There were gasps of shock and surprise, hushed murmurs filled the cavern where the council had gathered.

The mask peeled back revealing the face of the princess.

Shouts filled the cave as confusion rippled among the people. Saying nothing but locking eyes with the princess, M’Baku rose from his seat and made his way to her, raising a hand.

With a smug smile she grasped his palm and met his strength as they arm wrestled, his generals hooting behind him. She squeezed his massive hand with her tiny one and he almost heard his bones cracking. By Hanuman! Before she could down his hand, he grabbed her elbow, conceding defeat.

“She has done it,” he announced in awe, “THE BLACK PANTHER LIVES!”

The Jabari fill the room with chants of “Maefa!”

Shouts of jubilation echo throughout the cave as the elders circled around her, thanking Bast and Hanuman, praying for blessing and strength, singing, and chanting her name.

When the joyous raucous died down, the Merchant tribe elder asked,

“The Black Panther has returned. What is the plan now?”

“Namor believes we are weak, that we have lost our queen and are beleaguered with grief. I say we take the fight to him. Show him the might of Wakanda. And I kill him. I will not let him destroy this nation.”

“Why didn’t we just give him the scientist? We could have avoided all of this!” the elder front the Border Tribe voiced his frustration.

Shuri swallowed her irritation to respond, “We do not offer the innocent up for slaughter. That is not what we do. It is not what brother would have done.”

“But you lead us to slaughter now? Are we not innocent?”

“No one will be slaughtered!” Shuri stood her ground. “The only person who will face slaughter is Namor. He is mine to kill. He will pay for his crimes against Wakanda!”

“Hmmm.”

  Everyone turned to M’Baku upon hearing his disgruntled murmur.

“Do you have something to say, Jabari?” Shuri asked the hulking man.

“Perhaps we are being too hasty,” he responded slowly.

“Eh!” exclaimed the River Tribe elder, “you wanted to eliminate him when his only crime was intimidation. He has attacked the city, attempted to kill our queen and now you want to negotiate?”

M’Baku leaned forward and addressed the room earnestly, “His people do not call him king, or lord. They call him K’uk’ulkan!” He vociferated, finger in the air.

“What is that?” someone asked.

“The Feathered Serpent God! He is a deity to his people. If we strike him down, do you think they will let his death go unavenged? No! We risk an eternal war for countless generations!”

Everyone was silent, some gazing at the Jabari leader in surprise.

“What?” he shrugged. “We have books here, and libraries. We are not primitive, just vegetarians.” He rolled his eyes.

“I would like to speak with M’Baku alone, please elders.” Shuri requested quietly. She did not have time for resistance. She needed to move quickly and without obstacle.

Silently they filed out of the cave leaving her with her brother’s rival turned confidant.

“What is it, Princess?”

“I need time to work on healing my mother. If he comes here, that will be impossible. I need to keep her stable and get Namor out of the way. With my plan it can work.”

“You would risk eternal war with Talokan and the lives of Wakandans? “

“Is my mother’s life not worth the risk of thousand wars?” Shuri’s voice was getting higher as anger swelled in her chest, her eyes burning.

“Of course, it is!” M’Baku tried to appease her. “Of course, she is,” he emphasized.

“Good, then we move at dawn. We fight until I have Namor’s body dead beneath my feet.”

The Jabari cocked his head to the left, gazing at her curiously.

“Princess, who did you see in the ancestral plane?” he asked quietly.

Shuri clenched her fists by her sides. What was it with everyone and this question?

“It doesn’t matter. Why?” she deflects.

“This course of action that you are taking, this war, it is not what your brother would have wanted for you. It is not what I want for you.”

“Well lucky for you, all that matters to me is what I want and what I want is my mother alive and Namor dead!” She pointed to his chest slowly , “ And you’re going to help me get it. Clear?”

She stared him down noting the trepidation in his eyes. It didn’t matter to her whether he wanted to agree or not. His compliance was what she needed, not his enthusiasm.

“Hmmm,” he grunted in agreement, though reluctantly.

She nodded at him and crossed her arms over her chest to ascend into the ship awaiting her.  She needed to get ready for tomorrow.

_____________________

She was a stubborn one, the princess. He supposed he would not have been drawn to her if she wasn’t. Every new hour that passed without word from her filled his heart with dread.

It was not that he loved war, he was just excellent at it. And he loved being excellent.

Perched on his throne, shell in hand, the water king sat beneath the sastun, praying to Chaac that the princess would come to her senses and take the path of least resistance for her people.

It was the most logical thing to do, and she was a woman of logic and science. Maybe she was performing the burial rights for her mother and had not had time to consider his offer yet.

Or maybe her hatred of you has consumed her and she is preparing to take you on in battle…

The king sighed. He had been tempted the night before to sneak into Wakanda, to find her, see what frame of mind she was in and maybe even approach her, try to make her see reason. He had even swum halfway there before he changed his mind, knowing that if he went, he would appear weak.

So, he returned, joining his nacoms as they took inventory of their weapons. When he could no longer stand the excited chatter among his warriors at the prospect of spilling Wakandan blood, her blood, he took his leave, needing solitude and a respite from it all.

He turned the shell over in his hand willing her to contact him.

Why won’t you call me, Princess?

No sooner did he finish the thought did Attuma rush in to alert him.

“K’uk’ulkan! We have found another vibranium detector in the ocean,” god general alerted him, eyes fierce.

“The Americans,” Namor snarled, grabbing his spear, and followed Attuma to the machine’s location. Perhaps he would begin his slaughter of the surface world a bit earlier, starting with the United States. He could deal with Wakanda later.

He sent word to Namora to gather his strongest warriors to help dispose of any Americans that dared to reenter his waters. They were hungry for combat.

Side by side he swam with Attuma until he came to the machine, similar to the one the scientist had built weeks before. Of course, the Americans were busy to strike again. Greedy, selfish, irreverent nat-

Pain exploded behind his eyes and ears as sound waves blasted the Talokanil under the sea at a frequency that was incapacitating. Frantically he looked around but could not find the source of the sonic attack.

“Get out of the water!” He yelled to his soldiers, leading them to the surface. Once there they tried to reorient themselves.

As if out of nowhere materialized a massive black ship. Namor reagarded it with suspicion. This technology was too advanced for Americans. This could only be the Wakandans.

No sooner did he have that thought than did Shuri appear, only she looked different than he remembered her. A skintight body suit covered her now smaller frame, gold and silver making intricate patterns over her body. Her face wore a stony expression, eyes hard and angry, a flame in each that he was drawn to once again, even as he realized that this day was going to end badly for them both. Instead of her normal curls, her hair had been braided back, close to her scalp, in the shape of diamond, making her expression seem more severe as she gaze down at him from the bow of the ship.

She looked like a fierce warrior, the one he always knew was inside of her, as she stood there with her shoulders squared, fists clenched at her side, undeniable strength felt in her aura. He could not help but feel a tad proud of her, for her determination and bravery to face him, knowing all that he was able to do.

This sentiment was short-lived as the princess raised a fist in the air and yelled , “Yibambe!”

“Yibambe!” a crowd of voices he could not see from his vantage point resounded behind her.

She called once more, “Yibambe!”

“Yibambe!” the voices echoed as air ships flew from behind her and began shooting at his children in the water. He had seen enough. No one attacked his children and remained untouched.

He shot out from the water into the sky, enraged, landing on one vessel, stabbing into the cockpit at the front and dragging his spear through the aircraft all the way to the tail, hooking it in and using the leverage to spin the plane into the ocean.

Not losing anytime, he pounced on the next shooting aircraft ripping a gash along the side, relishing in the sound of the metal tearing, throwing it onto the vessel where Shuri stood at the Wakandan army in the ship.

Below him he watched as his warriors swam towards the ship, climbing up to breach and engage in one-on-one combat with the Wakandan fighters that the princess had brought with her.

How foolish, he thought, to bring a fight to him and his people in their domain. Victory would be as easy as drowning them all. Perhaps he had given the princess more credit that she deserved. This was a terrible plan on her part. He regretted that she had chosen to fight instead of joining him. He would ensure that her death was as quick and painless as possible. Even at war, he could not be cruel to her.

To his left, something red and shiny flew by, blasting him as it whizzed past. It looked like the ridiculous armour the scientist had be brought to his home wearing, only newer and more modern. He should have killed her from the beginning like he had intended. She was not worth all the trouble that she brought alive.

With his spare he deflected the blasts the scientist sent his way as he drew closer to her retreating figure. When he was through with her, he would deal with the princess and be done with this once and for all.

Without warning, a saucer like ship that he recognized flew into view and blasted his back with fire. With a yell he ascended higher into the clouds, away from the heated blasts.  He could still hear the whirring of the scientist’s flying machine, but he could not see her among the clouds. Squinting, he tried to locate her but before he could make out her silhouette, he heard her behind him-

“Gotchya!” she yelled.

Before he could react, she hit him with a blast that knocked him backwards and off balance. He could not right himself and found that his descent into the ocean below ended with him inside a vessel that had swooped beneath him out of nowhere.

Quickly he stood and looked around at his unfamiliar surroundings. Before he could make sense of any of it a figure fall through the opening at the front of the ship, black, silver and gold.

“Princess,” he growled, taking in the tension in her body, the fighter’s stance. Why did this small woman think that she could take him on in hand-to-hand combat?

“No!” she declared, the panther mask dissolving from her face, her voice rough with untamed rage, “I am the Black Panther! And I have come for retribution!”

“Pervaporation cells activated.”  A disembodied voice announced.

He furrowed his brows and sneered. The Black Panther? The last she had told him was that the Black Panther no longer existed. This must mean she found a way to recreate their goddess blessed plant. Clever girl. It matter not. She would not be able to defeat-

Suddenly he felt dizzy, it was hard to breathe. He tried to move towards the princess, but he stumbled back, his gait unsteady, sweat now covering his body. Why was he sweating? He raised a palm to his brow to wipe the salty perspiration that was dripping into his eye.

“What’s the matter? Need some water?” the princess asked him mockingly.

Witch! What was she doing to him?

A sick feeling settled in his stomach as he looked around the aircraft, trying to discern the source of her magic.  Hearing a faint vibration above his head, he looked up to see panels around the perimeter of the craft glowing red, emitting heat waves that dried the air around him.

The disembodied voice spoke again.

“Panther. The Sea Leopard has lost power. They are experiencing significant casualties.”

Good, he thought, looking around for a sign of weakness on the aircraft, his warriors were holding their own without him. This would be over soon. He just had to get out of this bloody aircraft.

“Okoye!” the princess spoke into her wrist.

“Panther!” a female voice replied.

“Phambili!”

Namor did not know what it meant but he knew a battle cry when he heard one. Whatever she had ordered could not bode well for his people. He needed to end this.

Using his spear he tore into the floor of the ship, grunting with the effort he had to exert in his weakened state. He was K’uk’ulkan, the Feathered Serpent god, bringer of wind and rain, a mutant with immeasurable speed and strength. He would not be defeated by a machine. He stabbed and stabbed, sparks flying as he attempted to bore a hole through the ship, before all the moisture was sucked from his body.

Behind him he heard a cry and then felt powerful feet land on his back sending him clean into the wall of the other side of the ship. He spun around, disoriented, throwing punch after punch at his assailant that never landed.

She returned volley, landing a blow to his chest and abdomen. She swung and he felt sharp slices to his face. When she swung a second time he stopped her swipe midair, leaving her side open where he landed a punch to her ribs.

With a yell she raised her hand and sliced under his upper arm with her vibranium claws. Engraged he dropped his shoulder and body checked her hard, sending her into the sides of the craft where she landed, sprawled out on a seat away from him.

He turned and grabbed his spear to continue his assault on the air vessel. As the vibranium tip struck the vibranium components below, the ship exploded sending both occupants crashing to the shore.

___________________________________

When he came to, he was laid out on the dry, cracked surface of the desert. He looked to his left and saw the princess or rather the Black Panther, stirring yards away, no doubt aiming to continue her attack on him the moment she was on her feet.

He was not at full capacity and needed every advantage he could get. He took to the skies and watched as he slowly got to her feet. Nothing could have prepared him for the strength of the princess when they had spared in her aircraft. She had hurt him, cut his flesh open, drawn blood. He had thought her foolish for attacking him in the ocean, but it seemed as if he was the foolish one for underestimating her. She had found his weakness and her strength, and he could not find his spear. This fight would have to be up close and personal.

As soon as she got to her feet, he flew down like a missile striking her hard enough for her to bounce on the ground. She did not remain there for long and soon she was up again, crouched in a defensive stance, looking around for him. He swooped down again behind her back and picked her up, carrying her into the air.

She wrestled in his grasp, attempting to free herself by hitting his back with her elbows, hard. How could one so tiny contain such strength to rival his own?

He reared back and punched the side of her face hoping to stun her but he only returned the blow. With a grunt he wrapped his hand around her waist firmly and flew top speed toward the earth and slammed her into the ground, cracking the dried land beneath them. He did not let her get off her back and began to attack with a. barrage of closed fists, back-to-back.

She scizzored her legs to regain her stance and then he heard the slice before he felt it. Pain that he had never experienced before shot through his foot all the way up to his lower belly, as he felt his wing get cut from his body. A vice like gripped was on the injured ankle and he was flipped through the air like a rag doll landed harshly on his shoulder.

He dragged himself away from her, fear gripping him for the first time since they began their fight. The princess he knew was gone. In her place was the Black Panther, a deadly predator who had decided that he was the prey.

Sending a prayer to Chaac for strength, he ignored the pain in his wing and rushed the princess, landing as many blows as he was taking. No longer underestimating her strength, he fought with all his might, kicks and punches and body blows, all which she seemed to simply absorb and replied with sharp claws to his abdomen, face and back.

He was losing and she was only gaining more power. He needed water if he stood any chance of making it out of this fight alive, but she would not stop her onslaught long enough for him to make his way to the ocean to heal and rehydrate. In quick succession she landed powerful kicks to his back, his abdomen, and his head, sending him crashing to the sand.

As he landed his hand hit something hard. He looked down and saw a spear buried beneath the sand. Chaac had heard his prayer after all. It hurt but he knew what he needed to do. With a cry of pain from his body and his heart, he rushed toward the princess and plunged the spear into her straight into her side.

Her cries of pain filled his head and he staggered back, overwhelmed, and exhausted, watching as her mask retracted, revealing the bruised face and teary eyes of the women he had once imagined as his wife.

His cruel mind added to his torture, replaying her time in Talokan; them swimming under the sastun; her yelling at him over his mention of her brother; her dressed in Talokan colors sharing meals with him in his hut; her screaming his name in desperation as her brought her to ecstasy. His heart shattered into a million pieces, seeing blood drip from her nose as she gasped from the pain of impalement.

“It could have been different,” he whispered to her, anguished. His vision grew dim and he knew he was operating on borrowed time.

“I need water,” he croaked to no one in particular, as he staggered toward the shore, the princess pinned to the rock behind him. He would come back and put her out of her misery once submerged himself.

He promised he would not let her suffer.

___________________________________

This is it, Shuri thought, this is how I die. She failed once again.

She could barely breathe, the pain was excruciating, her insides felt like they were caving in. If she had not her mother clinging to life in Wakanda, she would have welcomed death. She was tired. Oh, so tired. And lonely.  The universe, the gods, Bast, they were torturing her, and she had no idea why.

She had lost her father on foreign soil. Lost her faith in her countrymen when her cousin was allowed to usurp the throne. Lost time with her mother when she was snapped out of existence. Lost the heart shaped herb. Lost her brother to illness. Lost her sense of self in his absence. Then she lost the affection that she barely had time to enjoy with a man she once thought could be an ally. She was tired of suffering. She was so tired of losing.

“Are you going to be noble, like your brother or handle business, like me?” N’ Jadaka’s voice rang out from the ancestral plane.

“Please Bast,” she prayed as hot tears slid down her cheek, the salinity irritating the bruises on her skin, “please do not have me spend eternity with N’Jadaka. I promise I will never doubt you again.”

She had lost enough in life, she could not bear being a loser in death too.

“I am not my brother. Namor will beg me for mercy as I stand and watch as he dies,” she had boasted to her cousin in the flooded throne room, setting the room ablaze with her fury.

I am not my brother, but I am the Black Panther and I will not leave without my retribution. I will not abandon my mother.

She watched as Namor stumbled toward the water. She knew if he got time to submerge, he would return with full strength and finish her off. She had not push through. For Wakanda. For her mother.

Closing her eyes and taking shallow breaths, she used her claws to cut through the wood of the spear protruding from her abdomen.  She gritted her teeth as pain coursed through her while she slid her body along the rest of the spear handle impaling her, the agony making staying conscious almost impossible.

Inch by inch she willed herself to keep moving until finally with a strangled cry she extracted herself and fell into the sand, the nanites of her panther suit quickly knitting together over the wound.

You can do this Shuri. You must.

Determination filled her chest as she spotted Namor in the distance, ragged and bloody. It was now or never.

Pulling strength from all the panthers before her, Shuri ran and leapt into the air, over Namor’s staggering body and landed in front of him, blocking his path to the water. They stared each other down, so many words unspoken. If they were not in a fight to the death, she would have sworn she read love and regret in his eyes as he mumbled something in Mayan and put up his fists in a defensive stance.

It was time to end this.

Noticing the Royal Talons propulsion system behind Namor, she smirked and engaged the engine with her kimoyo beads and crossed her arms over her chest.

“Wakanda Forever!”

At her cry, flames engulfed the half-naked god king, singing his dry skin, desiccating him to the point of near death. He fell before he and she limped to him, grabbing her side. Visions of her mother’s body flashed through her mind as she kicked him to turn him over. She wanted to look him in the eyes when she took his life. She wanted to see his fear.

She grabbed a spear that was lying on the ground and held it to his neck, anticipating the delicious taste of victory in seeing him there, at her mercy, minutes away from death by her hand as she planned. She waited for it, but it never came.

Instead, she was bombarded with memories, of them in his hut negotiating an alliance, of him telling her the history of his people and showing her their vibranium sun, of him playing with the children in his capital city, of his eyes heated and hungry as he fed her mango with his hands, of his words, hot and desperate as he whispered in yakunaj in her ear.

No! What she wanted was revenge not regret.

“It could have been different.”

It doesn’t matter, she thought. All that matters is here and now. She tighten her grip on the spear and held it closer to his neck, a mixture of colossal emotions formed a hurricane inside her.

In contrast the man beneath her was calm, his face almost serene, as if he had accepted his fate and was happy to be put out of his misery. Even in defeat, battered and bruised, he was beautiful.

Shuri raised her spear. She could mourn after he was dead.

Tears in her eyes, she brought her hands down for the death blow when a familiar voice called out to her.

“Shuri.”

She looked up to see the purple, pink and blue skies over a savannah and standing there in white was T’Challa.

“Brother,” she sobbed.

“I have missed you , usisi,” the former Panther greeted his sister in the land of the living.

“I have missed you! Why did you abandon me?” she cried, her grief and pain flooded her body like a tsunami. Hurt , anguish and anger all rolled into one.

“I never abandoned you, Shuri. We are always with you,” he smiled gently. It only infuriated her. She had needed him and he never came.

“I recreated the herb. I did the bloody ritual and you never came! You left me. Why?!”

Her brother took a deep sigh and gave her a sad smile, “I was not the one that your heart cried out for, usisi. But I was there, I have always been there, watching over you, calling out to you in the breeze, waiting for the day you would let yourself hear me. ”

Shuri let out a sob, feeling like a petulant child. All she had ever wanted to do was make her brother proud, but it was now clearer than ever, she could never come close to filling his shoes.

“ I have made a mess of it all brother. I couldn’t keep mother safe. I could not keep Wakanda safe. I am no Black Panther. I am not worthy.” It was painful to cry but she could not stop herself.

“Shuri, look at me,” her brother said gently.  She raised her eyes reluctantly, shame gnawing at her insides.

“You have done well. We are very proud of you. All of us.”

“How? I have basically sent mama to the ancestral plane with you.”

T’Challa chuckled, “Umama is not here with us, usisi. I do not believe she will be with us this soon. Now, Shuri, Princess of Wakanda, daughter of Ramonda and T’Chaka , sister of T’Challa, Black Panther , Protector of Wakanda,” her brother gestured to Namor who was gazing, trancelike , into the distance.

“Show him who you are.”

With that her brother faded into the clouds. Head thrown back, Shuri yelled into the heavens. She shouted her frustration, her fury, her regrets, her anguish and grief.

“Are you going to the noble like your brother or handle business like me?”

Taking a deep breath, she tightened her hands around the spear and looked down at Namor, expression cold and serious.

“Yield and Wakanda will keep your secrets. Yield and we will protect your oceans. Vengeance has consumed us. We cannot let it consume our people. Yeild!” she commanded him.

His gaze refocused and it was as if he was looking at her for the first time, there was no resistance or anger in his eyes, just exhaustion and acceptance.

“I yield,” he said hoarsely at last.

Throwing down the spear, she fell to the ground, drained and in pain, agonizing sobs wracking her injured body, the weight of the day resting upon her by degrees, crushing her.

There was an arm under her shoulder, pulling her up. She looked to see Namor, dragging her along his body, draping her hand around his shoulder, his around her waist as he made his way to the shore.

They made slow progress, their tired bodies aching but finally the waves touched their feet and she heard Namor sigh and collapse, taking her down with him.

She cried out as a sharp jolt, white hot, shot through her abdomen. She looked down to see Namor’s eyes glazed over, breathing shallow.

I need to get him under the water.

Mustering the last dredges of her strength, Shuri pulled the god king deeper into the ocean, inch by painstaking inch.

When she felt he was deep enough she finally let him go and collapsed into the depths herself, too weary to go further. She groaned as the cool water soothed the skin on her face. She was so tired. Maybe she could rest here for one second…

She shut her eyes and let herself sink. There was no strength left in her to move any muscle. The water felt so good and breathing hurt.

There was a gentle grip around her waist and the princess felt herself being carried upward in the water. She did not need to open her eyes to know that the familiar heat of the body next to hers was that of Namor.

His frame was solid against hers and even under water, through her panther suit she could feel his warmth, the waves of it soothing her sore muscles. She let herself relax into him. She was too tired to protest.

They broke the surface and Shuri welcomed air into her lungs but gasped at the tightness that remained in her chest from battle. A warm hand caressed her cheek and before she could stop herself, she leaned into it.

She looked up to find Namor, eyes softer than she had ever seen before, staring at her with an expression she could not name. He looked as beautiful as ever but… different. It was as if all the things that she feared about him had been washed away in the waves and only the things that she craved remained.

Echoing his words on the beach, he whispered, “It could have been different,” stroking his knuckles gently over her cheeks.

Something inside her broke and she clung to him, not wanting to think about what had just transpired, about what their vengeance had drove them to. She wanted time to stop and she wanted to be held and hide from the consequences for one suspended moment in his arms. Burying her head in his shoulder, she cried for what seemed like hours, all while he stroked her back and cooed into her ear, words of comfort.

When she had nothing left, she pulled away to find that his face was tear stained too. The sight left her winded and before she could stop herself her lips found his. The kiss was soft and tender at first, both surprised that it was happening. The waves slapped against their bodies as he tightened his embrace and angled his head to deepen the kiss, drawing an involuntary moan from her throat.

She was about to slide her hands into his wet curls when her kimoyo beads chirped, causing them to jump apart, awkwardly.  

Griot’s voice came through her bracelet.

“Princess, I thought you would like to know, the Queen Mother is awake.”

Chapter Text

They were crafty, these Wakandans, but they were foolish. To fight Talokan in the ocean was… brave. Attuma grinned as he swam full speed to gather reinforcements.

When he had discovered the vibranium detector earlier that day, he thought it would be a chance to get some practice in for the Americans, in preparation for the annihilation of the Wakandans in a few days’ time.

He did not anticipate however, this machine being a ruse and for the Wakandans to have ambushed them in their own waters. It was fine. They had spent their whole lives fighting in the ocean. Wakanda had not. This would be quick and easy.

He gave his instructions to a relay who was waiting for him midway to Talokan, who sounded his message into a shell. The receiver replied that the troops were on the way and would be joining the melee shortly. This was what they were trained for. This was where they shined.

They had spent most of their battle time in training or quickly dispatching of pirates or mining ships that threatened their peace and safety. The Wakandans however, were a different kettle of fish.

They too had access to vibranium and their warriors were formidable from what he had witnessed. A smirk touched his lips as he recalled his skirmish with the bald-headed warrior on the bridge.

He had meant to kill the scientist and return to his king with the mission complete, but he was intercepted by a woman with fire in her eyes and beautiful skin the color of midnight. At the time, his first thought was what a strange but incredible looking woman, it will a shame to have her meet her end on my blade.

He had not expected her to make quick work of his soldiers and then challenge him. She was not as big as him, or as powerful but what he had over her in strength and size she made up for in skill, speed, and smarts. She was intelligent fighter, agile, observant, predicting and blocking his blows even when he tried unconventional strikes.

He had felt alive then, not realizing before her that he had never faced an equal on the battlefield. He had almost forgotten the scientist, relishing in the adrenaline of figuring out this warrior opposing him.

She had drawn blood. He fingered the healed cut she had left on his face, a souvenir. If Namora had not interrupted their duel he would have had an answer as to which one of them was the superior fighter.

When they flooded Wakanda and killed their queen, he had searched for the bald warrior until he found her in an alleyway. He had challenged her to rumble once more, eager to relive the rush of their night on the bridge, but her eyes had burned with hatred as she grabbed a young child and was lifted into an aircraft. His curiosity was left annoyingly unsatisfied.

Now, as his platoon joined him with the whales and orcas carrying a bushel of hydro bombs, he swam with motivation, eager to join the fray. No doubt, the intriguing bald warrior would be there and finally they would see who would emerge victorious.

Fighting an attractive warrior was common in his training in Talokan. But fighting an attractive warrior who matched him in skill was unheard of. The experience was heady, intoxicating. Addictive even. He had never felt lust while in combat, but it made sense to him after that night capturing the American scientist.

In his dreams after that, he would imagine them again on that bridge, but alone, spears clashing, blows glancing firm flesh, neither party giving any quarter. They would spar to the point of exhaustion, sweat glistening off skin the color of midnight, eyes flashing, teeth bared, grunts of aggression eventually giving way to sighs of pleasure as leans her against the rails of the bridge and impales her with another type of spear.

He grinned in anticipation as he swam towards the battle. Today him and his warrior would clash swords and he would emerge victorious, he was almost certain. Almost.

_________________________________

“Okoye!”

“Yes, Princess.”

“Phambili!”

She did not need to hear more. Summoning Aneka, she flew into the Sea Leopard to give the Dora and the Royal Navy support. She was no longer a Dora, but serving this great nation was what she was born to do, it was all she knew.

When she landed on the Sea Leopard she saw a familiar massive blue figure before her. She called to him in his native tongue.

“Warrior!” she yelled across the space between them.

Immediately he turned to face her and he was ….smiling? Who smiled in battle? This was a sick man and she was tired of him!

She had only seen in twice before in real life, but he had been haunting her dreams. Every night he would visit her, taunt her, remind her of her failures. Some nights they would be in Wakanda, sparring as the waters flooded the town square and when he had her on her back about to strike a final blow she would wake up. Other nights they were back on the bridge, just the two of them, matching each other blow for blow, hit for hit, each searching for the other’s vulnerability.

Their fights were elegant, almost poetic as if they were dancing. Some nights they had long drawn-out battles that ended with neither of them a clear winner, others he defeated her easily. Except for one dream where their fight on the bridge had ended with him bending her over and-

She shook her head and advanced toward him, determined to take him down. He had been the reason that she lost her position as General and her place with the Dora Milaje. Today he would taste the sting of humiliation and defeat that she had been living with since their faceoff on the bridge.

Today he would learn what it felt like to lose.

_____________________________

“Mama!”

A weeping Shuri rushed into the medical bay to find her mother sitting up, chatting with the medical staff as if the past week had never even happened.  Her eyes were clear, her movements as graceful as ever, no hesitation from pain or soreness, her voice strong.

At her mother’s side now, she grabbed the Queen’s hand and broke down in tears of relief when her mother gave her a dazzling smile and said,

“What? No hug for your mother?”

Shuri hugged her mother fiercely, desperately clinging to her shoulders, careful to not crush her with her new panther strength, ignoring the pain in her side from the battle.

She held on to the queen, weeping, mumbling that she was sorry in between sobs. Her mother returned the embrace, but she barely registered it, so consumed by relief and the startling realization that she had almost plunged Wakanda and Talokan into an eternal war over revenge for a mother that was very much alive and well in her arms.

“Shuri,” her mother cooed while stroking her head gently, making her cry even harder.

“Shuri,” she repeated. “My daughter, my gem. Look at me, please,” her mother pulled away and stared at her daughter’s tear-streaked face.

“I…I… I almost…” Shuri struggled to get words out; there was so much she wanted to say, so many emotions, so much pain.

“Shuri, the doctors have informed me of what you were able to do, of what you have been doing.” Shuri struggled to meet the Queen’s gaze, shame setting her face on fire.

“Mama, I am sorry. I-“

“Sorry? Whatever for child! I am so proud of you! So is your brother and your father.”

Shuri gasped, her eyes snapping to her mother’s, a knowing smile on the queen’s face.

“How do you-?” she whispered, suspecting the answer but not wanting to assume.

Ramonda chuckled before answering, “They told me themselves. In the ancestral plane.”

Her eyes widened. “You saw them… in the ancestral plane? Does that mean that you…?” she looked her mother up and down.

Her mind was racing. She had not been able to give her mother but a tiny bit of the heart-shaped herb, logically, not enough to give her the powers of the Black Panther but logic had not the governor of her life lately.

As if reading her mind, her mother shook her head gently and smiled, “No, I did not wake up with any powers, but I believe the gods allowed whatever was in my system to mend me and give me back to Wakanda.”

“I was happy to see your brother and your baba. So happy. I must confess to you; I was selfish for a moment and part of me wanted to stay.”  Ramonda’s smile grew wistful.

“But they reminded me that you needed me, that Wakanda needed me. I could not leave you in this world alone,my child. I simply couldn’t. And you made it so that I didn’t, my brilliant, brilliant star,” the queen caressed her daughter’s cheek lovingly.

“I almost killed him, mama,” Shuri confessed, causing her mother to clasp both of her hands in hers. “I would have. I know I would have if it was not for my brother. T’Challa stopped me.”

It was the queen’s turn to gasp, “He came to you! Glory to Bast! Oh Shuri,” she gathered her daughter and cradled her the best she could in her bosom.

“I never meant for you to carry such a burden. I know you never wanted to be the Black Panther, and my choices forced this decision upon you. Please forgive me, my child.”

“There is nothing to forgive, Mother! It was all his fault! I would do it a hundred times over to avenge you and Wakanda.”

Unseen to Shuri, the queen stared at the ceiling to blink away tears threatening to spill.

“The choices I made caused made you feel like you had no choice. This is a heavy mantle to carry, Shuri. It is not one I would have ever asked you to take up.” Ramonda’s voice was heavy with a guilt that Shuri did not understand, and she wanted to reassure her mother.

“I know mother. But I am the Crown Princess. I have a duty to my country and to you. My privilege cannot come without responsibility. Like it or not, Wakanda needed its protector and now the country has its protector back, even though I almost led us to destruction.”

“Shuri, you are always so hard on yourself,” her mother clucked. “Perhaps I do not tell you enough how proud of you I am, or how in awe I am of your mind and your heart. We all thought the heart-shaped herb lost and our protector gone forever. And now, when we need a protector the most, you found a way to bring back the Black Panther.”

She placed a finger under her daughter’s chin and fixed her gaze to hers.

“Intliziyo yam, you found a way to bring me back. You fought a god and from what I hear, you won. And yet you come back to me, with all this success, crying like you have failed. Inkwenkwezi yam, it is I who have failed you. You are spectacular beyond compare and I must never allow you to forget it.”

Shuri buried her face into her mother’s chest lest she read the truth in her eyes. Her mother could never know that she had almost fallen in love with the enemy in the deep. She could not find out that even after almost killing him, blood from their battle still fresh on their skin, that she had kissed him, craving him still. All while their people were dying in the fight that they started.  If she knew that even now, she longed for his touch, her mother might not be so proud of her anymore.  

“Now, come, you need to get checked out and I need to go speak to Agent Ross. He left me an urgent message about a developing situation. I need to attend to it at once. And you need to rest.”

Shuri began to protest but her mother cut her off with a raised hand.

“I don’t want to hear it. You may be the Black Panther, but you are still my daughter. Listen to your mother and let the doctors make sure you are well. Please, for me,” her mother pleaded, and she sighed, relenting.

“Fine, mother,” Shuri grumbled but smiled. It felt good to have her mother fussing over her. Days ago, she had been terrified she would never speak to her again. She thanked Bast and got up to allow her mother to get out of the bed.

“Come now, child. Get in,” Ramonda lifted the blanket and motioned for Shuri to take her place there.

Rolling her eyes, she gingerly slide onto the bed, the pain in her abdomen flaring with the movement. She hissed at the sting and her mother tsked.

“I fear you will never outgrow that stubbornness you inherited from your father,” the queen huffed as she drew the blankets over Shuri’s body when the panther suit retracted into the gold necklace her daughter wore.

Shuri shot her a pointed look.

“Okay, fine,” the queen shrugged with mock haughtiness, “Perhaps you inherited a tiny bit from me as well.” The mother and daughter both laughed heartily.

“Are you sure you should be standing mother? You were in a coma for almost five days,” Shuri asked the doctors more than her mother.

The head doctor on duty responded.

“We have run several tests on the Queen Mother. Her vitals are strong, even stronger than before this incident. She has been up and walking before you came. It seems like the regenerative properties of the herb did what we were unable to do.  We only alerted you when we were certain she was in good health. It is nothing short of a miracle! Glory to Bast.”

“Glory to Bast,” the rest of the staff in the room echoed.

The queen cupped her daughter’s cheek, “You see, there is nothing to fear. I am as strong as a baobab, daughter. All thanks to you. Now, I want you to lay here and not move until these doctors run every test and mend every wound.”

Ramonda looked at the staff around the room.

“I don’t care what she says or does, do not let her leave this room until tomorrow afternoon. Ensure that she eats and gets lots of sleep. Do I make myself clear?”

Without hesitation everyone agreed in unison, “Yes, Queen Mother.”

Griot’s voice sounded suddenly from Shuri’s kimoyo beads.

“Panther, something has come up of concern that  I believe you would want to take a look-“,

“Aht, aht! Griot! Whatever it is, it can wait until tomorrow afternoon. For the next twenty-four hours you are not to disturb the Princess and that is an order. Do you understand?”

“Yes, your majesty,” the AI responded and went quiet.

Shuri rolled her eyes but was secretly grateful to her mother. She was so exhausted and wanted to get lost in sleep so she could escape all the thoughts crowding her mind. She felt her mother’s lips on her forehead and teared up again at the joy of the privilege to just be a child doted on by her mother again.

“Now, after these doctors look at you, I need you to eat and sleep until you can sleep no more.”

Shuri smiled and wrinkled her nose. “Are you asking as my mother or the queen?”

Her mother smiled and kissed her again.

“Both. Now rest, my child. You have done well. Wakanda owes you a great debt. Tomorrow when you wake up, we will discuss the future.” The queen squeezed her daughters palm once more and left the medical bay and retreated to her quarters.

The medical staff immediately swarmed around Shuri. She lifted her skintight black sports shirt to show them where she had been impaled, drawing gasps from those gathered around her bed.

The room descended into a flurry of activity as they asked Griot to pull up her vitals and calculate the doses of pain killers and nutrients she needed with her newly altered DNA, her physiological requirements now vastly different.

She was struggling to keep her eyes open, unsure if it was due to exhaustion or whatever the doctor was now injecting into her IV bag, but before she succumbed to the darkness, she was sure to tell the woman tending to her wound to leave the scar.

She never wanted to forget what happened today and the consequences that almost came to pass.

____________________________

Ramonda found herself once more in the place where the elephants drink, near the river where she had burned her funeral clothes after the loss of her husband, after the loss of her son and where she had first met the ocean king.

Her call with the American agent left her extremely disturbed. There were dark times ahead for Wakanda as France, the United States and their allies were seeking to retaliate for being embarrassed at their last meeting at the United Nations. Staring at the water, the queen shook her head at the sheer audacity.

She had never agreed with her husband’s decision to have Wakanda interact with the United Nations, but she understood why he did. Just like she understood why he had to carry the shame of his brother’s betrayal of Wakanda and why he never allowed her to be burdened with his weight of his deepest secret.

A good leader often had to trade being good at times, for the good of his people.

Ever since her son revealed that Wakanda possessed a vibranium, there was little peace for the tiny nation. There was attempt after attempt to breach her country as well as poorly disguised attempts to break into the different outreach centers around the world. The latest endeavor by the French was the final straw and she realized that she needed to let the powers that be learn in a tangible way, that the loss of two kings and the Black Panther did not mean that Wakanda was weak; that she was weak.

She knew the spectacle she made, though only symbolic, would not be well-received, but she had not expected them to take an overtly aggressive route and pursue destabilization. Ross had informed her that the president of the United States had greenlit the CIA to take offensive action against Wakanda.

She had no allies on the surface and the colonizer nations smelled blood in the water. There was only one place she could turn, and it was a bitter pill to swallow. But like every king and queen before her she had to do what was best for Wakanda, even if it was far from what was best for her.

Raising the shell in her hands to her lips, she blew and then set it down in the water and waited, sitting on a log near the water’s edge.

Her thoughts wandered to the ocean king that she hoped was on his way. She had thought she had a read on him.

He was a maniacal mutant, a blood-thirsty brute who had snuck past her borders and proceeded to make demands of her like she was his servant. It did not help that her daughter had not returned from the mission to retrieve the scientist he had requested. It did not matter how many times Griot and Shuri herself eventually told her she had not been kidnapped; he was the monster who had stolen her helpless daughter away like a thief in the night and her rage was unquenchable.

Only, her daughter was not quite so helpless, was she? That clever girl had been a better diplomat than the two monarchs had ever bothered to be. Their need to protect those that they loved fueled their individual tunnel vision, and neither was able to see at the time, how a conversation could have led them to much different outcomes.

It could have all been so different.

Instead, one reactive event triggered another until they both had blood on their hands: their people paying the price for their fear, their stubbornness, their rage.

She had judged him as an enemy immediately, perhaps due to the shock of his entry into Wakanda, or perhaps misdirected energy from her recent meeting with the UN, she did not know, but she judge him she did. Hearing that her daughter was taken into his custody only cemented the notion in her mind.

Now, after listening to accounts from Nakia, M’Baku and Ross, she feared that she may have alienated a much-needed potential ally, one not motivated by a greed for vibranium since they possessed their own. An ally who was not corrupted by the pretenses of politics but one who was plain spoken and terrifyingly honest. One whose might and military might rival Wakanda’s own. He had once offered her the option to become allies, she hoped and prayed to all the gods the offer still stood, despite everything that had transpired.

There was a ripple in the waters and just like before, the god-king rose from the middle of the river in the air and glided towards her tentatively. She rose, and he stopped meters away from where she stood, his eyes searching behind her.

“I am alone, King K’uk’ulkan. No harm will come to you here,” she swept her hands to the forest behind her.

He did not respond but cocked his head at her use of his title, finally regarding her, even though his hand tightened around his vibranium spear.

“There has been enough bloodshed between us. I only wish to speak,” she continued in an even tone, even as she chided herself for being so foolish to be unaccompanied with the man who had tried to kill her.

She glanced quickly at his bandaged ankle and hid a smile. Way to go Shuri.

“There is nothing to speak about. I yielded to the Black Panther. Wakanda agreed to protect our secrets and our oceans. There is nothing left to discuss.” He turned to leave, his face fearsome.

“I would like to apologize to you, officially,” She called out to him, hoping to stop his departure. To her relief, he paused.

He pivoted slowly, and flew slowly towards her, his eyes never leaving her face, searching for any sign of deception. She welcomed the scrutiny, understanding it, respecting it.  He landed softly an arm’s length away from her, his eyes slightly softer, but only slightly.

“Well then, I would like to hear your apology, officially.”

_________________________________

The two royals sat under the stars, the fire that Namor had built casting shadows on parts of their face and illuminating others as the flames licked towards the sky. He sat significantly further away from the blaze, only lighting it when he noticed the queen shiver.  He had no desire to ever have fire near his skin ever again.

How the queen was still alive was a mystery to him at first, but she had explained that she had been placed on a machine to keep her organs functional and that her daughter had found a way to heal her.

Of course, she had, that brilliant enchantress. Despite his heartbreak, he was not so prideful that he could not help but admire how someone so young had found a way to claw her mother from the jaws of death itself and then turn around and deliver an immortal, powerful god to death’s doorstep. She was truly remarkable and his equal in every single way. He hated her so badly for making him want her, even now.

He had been surprised when he got the call from Wakanda. He was even more surprised to find Queen Ramonda standing alone at the river’s edge, no guards. Surprised because she was indeed still alive, and because even after all that had happened between the two of them, she was brave enough to face him. She was no coward, and he could not take that away from her, unlike the other surface nation leaders.

She told him that she had been informed of how Shuri’s return had led to the death of two of his citizens and that in the moment she would have done anything to get her only child back and she did not care who had to suffer for it. She was sorry that two innocent Talokanil had paid the price.

“My children rarely experience violence in Talokan, much less in my own home. It could not have gone unanswered. I hope you understand,” he responded, keeping his eyes on the water, his toes fiddling with his spear that was laid at his feet on the ground.

The queen turned to him startled, “Children? I had no idea you had children. But of course you do, why wouldn’t you-“

Namor’s raised hand cut her off as he explained.

“I have sired no children of my own because I am a father to all in Talokan. I name them when they are born, I bless them, watch them grow, hear their prayers, and protect them from harm. When the time comes for them to journey to Xibalba, I mourn them and bury them. I have done so since I became king and I will do so long after this current generation of Talokanil are gone. They are all my children.”

He turned his head to look at the queen, her eyes slightly wider as she listened, her face wore the expression as if she was realizing something.

Silence fell between them until finally the queen spoke.

“So,” she began quietly, “in securing my child, I had two of yours killed.” She stared at the water, her brows furrowed, and she appeared deep in thought.

“Yes, not only that but you killed two of my children who were tending to your child, in the home of their god. Xelha asked to serve the princess since she has always been fascinated with the surface dwellers. They became friends, I was told. After the Princess and the scientist left, she was dying and asked me to save her. She prayed to her god to save her and I couldn’t,” he spat, the memory of it twisting his heart.

“She died in my arms.”

The queen raised her fingers to her lips and her eyes glistened with unshed tears. Her voice was raspy when she finally spoke.

“I am sorry, to you, to Talokan. These words seem so empty to offer in exchange for all that has been lost. It was not just two lives, it was trust and a sense of safety. Any potential for a future where those of us on the surface could be friends and not foes.”

He nodded, appreciative that Ramonda understood the gravity of what took place in his home the day she whisked the princess away.

“Yes. So, you understand? I could not let this go unanswered. I had to seek justice for my people. A life for a life,” he chuckled wryly and gestured to the queen to his side, “Although, it seems I was not successful in doing that.”

Ramonda hummed and shifted her body slightly on the log so that she was facing him more fully.

“I understand. Not acting would undermine the trust your people have in you, weaken you as a leader. I know all too well what can happen to a nation when faith in a leader is compromised.”

He nodded. Her words rang with sincerity across the crackling of the burning logs and he felt his respect for her grow despite himself.

The queen was looking at him curiously and he met her stare, raising a brow in askance.

“Yet you tried to save me. Why?”

Namor looked away, angry that she reminded him of his moment of weakness and gruffly retorted,

“The princess. I was told that she had tried to save Xelha before I arrived.”

“And that’s why you pulled me from the water?” the queen pressed. He was not sure what she was getting at, but he did not appreciate this line of questioning.

“I do not know why I did. There was much happening in the moment.” He could not tell her that he saved her because he had been foolishly in love with her daughter, that he betrayed his kingly duties and tried to not leave Shuri alone in the world. No, he could never tell her or anyone this truth. He hated the knowing look in her shrewd eyes that seemed to be boring into the intimate corners of his soul. So, he decided to deflect.

“You went back. Even after I pulled you to safety, you went back to save the scientist, a colonizer, a stranger. Why?”  He heard the queen’s shaky intake of breath, and he knew he had successfully changed the subject.  

“Why did you choose to sacrifice yourself for another woman’s child, leaving yours behind to mourn you, knowing all she has lost? How could you choose to leave Shuri?”

A choked sobbing sound came from the queen then and she placed a hand over her heart as she pressed her lips into a thin line, as if to keep her cries at bay. He watched her struggle with emotion until finally she took a shaky breath and exhaled before she answered.

“After you pulled me from the water, and I looked down and saw that body floating beneath me, I did not see Miss Williams. I saw my son, frail, his body weak from disease. And yes, logically I know that he is no longer with us on this plane but in that water, I cannot explain why but he was all I saw, and my heart was screaming, ‘Save him! You can save him this time!’”

She wrung her hands and her lips twisted in sadness and grief. He felt his own heart softening as the rage he felt previously at her abandonment of her daughter gave way to understanding. She was not saving the scientist. Her mind had played tricks on her, and a grieving mother saw an apparition of a son that she had lost to an enemy she could not defeat.

He wondered how much of that sentiment was shared by the princess when she offered herself over and over to save the scientist in Talokan. How lucky a girl, this American, to have met a mother and daughter who saw their loved one in her and saved her the way they had not been able to save him. Only the gods themselves could have plotted a fate so serendipitous.

“I don’t expect you to understand. But when I thought I was saving my T’Challa , Shuri was on my mind. I thought, if only I could save him, if only I could give her back her ubhuti, she would forgive me for leaving her. T’Challa was her favorite person in the world, when he left us,” her voice broke, “when he left us, I saw parts of her die too. It was like losing two children. Again.”

Namor felt his own eyes grow wet, remembering the sorrow he witnessed in Shuri whenever she spoke of her brother, of them ceasing to exist for five years only to return and have him succumb to an illness a year later. This family had suffered much. He was no stranger to outliving children; but the pain never went away, it just made its home in your heart and the vessel learned over time how to beat with the new weight.

“I just felt, if I could save him, they would have each other and they could help each other heal and move on, and I could join my umyeni in the ancestral plane and together we could watch over them. It made sense. It made so much sense to me in that water,” she whispered, tears streaming down her face. She looked up to find the god king’s eyes with matching tears.

He looked away, not wiping his face but schooling his face into an unreadable expression as he stared at the moon’s reflection on the river.

“I made decisions from guilt and fear, and I am afraid that I have cost Wakanda more than we can afford,” the queen continued.

“And I made decisions from rage, revenge and fear of discovery. I am not much better than you, Queen Ramonda,” he offered.

It could have been different.

He had whispered this to Shuri on the battleground. Perhaps the gods were granting them a second chance at making the alliance that could have been come to pass. It was too late for him and Shuri, but perhaps it could happen for Talokan and Wakanda.

An alliance with the strongest surface nation, with the strongest warrior, a goddess in the flesh of their own, would be beneficial to his people, many of which longed for a chance to satisfy their curiosity of the surface. He had always preached that there was nothing good to be found out of the depths but how long could he assuage their desires? An alliance with Wakanda could open pathways for his people to experience the surface safely in the future.

He took a deep breath and decided to meet the queen halfway.

“I would do anything for my children, so I do not fault you,” he gave the queen a brief look of understanding, “the only difference between us, is that unlike me, your children and your nation are not one and the same.”

There was something new in the queen’s eyes then, like she was seeing him for the first time. She nodded slowly and sighed, her shoulders drooping as if she was shedding a heavy load.

“I can be the queen and I can be a mother. But sometimes I cannot be both. This was one of those times.” She closed her eyes and pressed her hand even harder over her heart, the confession seeming to cost her.

“In all my wisdom and years on this earth, it escaped me that your duties as a mother would not align with those as queen of Wakanda. Had I taken that into consideration, I might have done things differently,” he admitted, a confession for a confession.

For a while they sat in silence, each lost in their own analyses of the other. Wakanda indeed was not so different from Talokan, like two sides of a coin they existed, hidden from prying eyes of the greedy West. But they were being hunted and the avarice of the conquistadores was reignited with an urgency he remembered from the 16^th century. It was only a matter of time before they would be forced to defend their resources when encroached upon again.

It would be better if they could work together and forge a plan preemptively instead of sitting and waiting to be attacked. There was much that needed to be repairs, trust that needed to be mended, but it was not impossible. He knew that an equitable relationship with Wakanda was in their best interest long term. It seems like the queen was of that mind as well. She had trusted him enough to come here; she had trusted him with her life. He could grant her some trust in return. After all, she had the courage to do what he did not: apologize.

“I have taken up more of your time than I am comfortable with, K’uk’ulkan, I did not call you here to listen to the ramblings of a sad, old woman,” she stood and brushed her gown, her white curls shining silver in the moonlight.

He rose to his feet and walked to the water’s edge with her.

“You no longer call me the name of my enemies,” he noted stopping short and turning to face her.

She turned to face him and gave a small smile. “My daughter tells me that Wakanda has agreed to protect your identity and your waters. I don’t think we can quite call ourselves enemies anymore.”

He returned her smile with a nod. “Indeed. I think Wakanda has enough enemies, and as the surface dwellers say, the enemy of my enemy…”

“…is my friend,” she finished, with a brief chuckle. “So what now, Ocean King? How do we embark on this shared path? We have brought much damage to each other. How do we fix it?”

He was right. The queen did in fact want a different, better future for their dealings with each other. Perhaps an alliance was not such a loss cause.

“A united front,” he stated. “We have to speak to our individual councils of course. Get them up to speed with where we plan to lead our people together.”

She hummed in agreement and added, “I believe we need to address our people together, both. We take accountability for what our decisions have cost them, and then we set an example of forgiveness.”

He rubbed his beard in consideration. She was right. They had to set the tone as leaders if they hoped to pull their nations from the wreck of their rashness.

“I agree. Then we can have our councils meet with each other and we can iron out the details of what this means for each of us individually and jointly.” 

He watched as the queen breathed a sigh of relief. She must have come here, unsure if he would be open to a conversation, and rightly so. He had not been initially. But she had shown her vulnerability even at the risk of death, and he could respect and admire that. Any leader willing to sacrifice themselves for their people deserved a listening ear.

“Thank you, K’uk’ulkan. May Bast rain blessings upon you and Talokan.”

He nodded in acknowledgement.

“Our people often say, only the most broken people can be great leaders. We are broken, you and I. Let us commit to being great leaders, so that we do not further break our people.”

He took a step forward and gently reached out to hold the back of the queen’s head and rested his forehead against hers, ignoring the hitch in her throat and the tension in her body.

“May Chaac grant you peace, and Wakanda, prosperity.” She relaxed at his blessing, and he released her and turned towards the river.

She called out to him, “I will have some kimoyo beads made for you so that we can communicate freely, without you having to make the long journey to Wakanda. I do not feel right taking you away from your people.”

He nodded and opened his palms in the Talokanil salute. She returned with arms crossed over her chest in the Wakandan salute.

With that he flew into the air and dived into the water, making his way back to his kingdom, replaying all that had just transpired with the queen.

_________________________________

“YOU WANT ME TO DO WHAT??!!!!”

Shuri could not believe her ears. Somewhere behind her a heart monitor beeped furiously.

On screen coming from her kimoyo beads she saw her mother pursed her lips as if Shuri was being unreasonable in her disbelief at the request the queen had just made.

“Really, Shuri must you be so dramatic?” her mother cocked her head to the side.

“Yes! Yes, I must! You just asked me to make kimoyo beads for Namor!”

“K’uk’ulkan,” her mother corrected quietly, picking off invisible lint from her shoulder.

The princess’ mouth hung open, shocked at her mother’s casual attitude.

The queen sighed as if she was completely exasperated and simply stated.

“I am not asking you to start today, my child. Rest and take it easy. As soon as you feel up to it, I am making an official request to have kimoyo beads designed for our new ally. I know you won’t let me down. I love you, daughter.”

And with that the queen ended the call, not waiting for Shuri’s answer.

“What the fuck?!” she exclaimed when she could finally speak.

Her beads blinked red once more and Griot’s voice came through the speaker,

“Panther, I must insist you take a look at-“

“Not now Griot!”

“Panther, you really need to look-“

“Later Griot! I have to go find my mother, who has lost her Bast-loving mind!”

She muted Griot and made way to get out of bed and take a shower. She needed to find her mother immediately and find out what fresh brand of madness had possessed her!

_________________________________

Somewhere in Langley, Virginia

“Hoooolyyy shiiiiiiit,” a young agent murmured in disbelief at what he was seeing on the screen in front of him.

He had clocked into work, expecting it to be as mundane as the days before, going through hours and hours of satellite footage. He had not expected to come across what was unfolding before his eyes.

Almost out of nowhere a large black ship seemed to materialize out of thin air and before long it seemed that it was being breached by…blue people?

He rubbed his eyes and rewound the tape. There! Right there! Climbing up the ship were people with blue skin and black hair. Who were they? Were they aliens?

A sick feeling overtook him. The last time there was a blue alien on Earth, half the population disappeared.

“Johnson! Johnson!” He called out to his colleague who shared the small office with him. “You need to come look at this.”

Johnson made his way over to the desk and stared as his coworker rewound the footage and played it again from when the ship materialized on the ocean.

“Holy shit! That has to be Wakandan technology!”

“Fuck!”

“Yeah, dude, fuck indeed. Have you backed this up yet?”

“Umm.. no?”

“Are you fucking crazy? You need to save this footage immediately and then call the director right away!”

He gulped. “Can… can you call her?”

Johnson raised his hand in front of him and backed away.

“Hey man, you made the discovery, you need to call her.”

He sighed and with shaking hands picked up the phone on his desk and dialed the director’s office.

“Hi, um, yes… I need to speak to Director de Fontaine. There’s something she really needs to see. It is regarding Wakanda.”

Chapter Text

There were two things Valentina knew for sure; vibranium was the most valuable metal on the planet and she would do absolutely anything to get her hands on it.

Ever since Wakanda’s refusal to share their vibranium with the rest of the world, she had become dogged in her search for some of it elsewhere. There had to be a way to get enough to breach the country again and access its hidden stores of the metal. Ulysses Klaue had done it once before, it could be done again, but better. Because she was better, she was the best actually.

She had held so much hope when the special task force she had assembled sent through a message that they possibly had found some in the middle of the Atlantic. And while they had been mysteriously dispatched by what a partial frantic message stated was “blue people” she had always assumed it was some trick by the Wakandans and their attention meant that it was more than a possibility that they had been this close to finding vibranium.

But now, staring at the screen in the cramped basement office, she could see that “blue people” literally meant blue people! She watched, eyes wide, as more of them emerged from the ocean and mounted what she assumed was a Wakandan ship.

“Can you zoom in any closer and enhance the video?” she asked the nervous young agent.

“N-n-no Madame Director, this is the best we can do.”

“We?” she asked quietly, eyes narrowing, “how many people have seen this footage?” she asked innocently.

She could hear the young man gulp before he replied, “Only myself and Johnson back there,” he pointed to his office mate behind them.

 Valentina turned around and Johnson gave her a nervous wave and awkward thin-lipped smile. She looked him up and down quickly and then returned her gaze to the screen.

“Is this all of it?” she asked when the video glitched and ended after a red figure flew out of the air and into the water.

“There was more but when I started to save it, the file got corrupted and then the source video began to self-delete and this was all I could save before it was all gone.”

“Wakandans,” she spat, straightening herself. “They did not want us to see this. Good job… uh…what’s your name?” she snapped her finger at the sweaty agent next to her.

“P-plyers, ma’am,” he stuttered.

“Good job, Plyers,” she nodded at him. “Send this to me please. And then delete it. Let them think they succeeded.”

“Right away, Director,” the mousy man responded, tapping furiously at his keyboard.

“And Plyers?”

“Yes, Director?”

“No one outside this room can know about this. Not a word to anyone. That goes for you too, Johnson.” She shot a sharp look at the lanky man in the corner of the office.

“Yes, Director,” they chimed in unison.

“Good. It would not be…healthy,” a brief sinister smile touched her lips, “if anyone but the three of us found out about any of this. I trust you both to understand the importance of your discretion.”

The two men exchanged nervous looks and nodded at the diminutive but intimidating woman before them.

“Yes, Director.”

She heard the swooshing sound of a file being delivered to her tablet and she began to walk towards the door. Once outside she nodded at the two plain clothes men in black sunglasses waiting on either side of the entrance and they went into the office she had just exited.

Valentina walked down the hall and could barely hear the choking sounds of the two agents as she made her way out of the underground building. She could not take chances with loose ends.

She got into the armored car waiting for her and played the video on her tablet. These blue people seemed to be less than friendly with the Wakandans, but who were they? She could safely assume that they had something to do with the failed probe for vibranium in the Atlantic that left no survivors but what did it mean?

Where did they come from? How did they have the skills to defeat a highly trained special ops team? Did they steal vibranium from the Wakandans and were hiding it in the seas? Is that why they seemed to be in conflict with Wakanda? Or were they the ones with the vibranium all along and the Wakandans had been stealing from them? Were they even from Earth?

There were so many questions but one thing she knew for sure was that this new information would be useful to her one way or another. Whichever one of them possessed vibranium mattered not. They were all uncivilized brutes who lacked the sophistication and ambition she did to use vibranium to its full potential the way she could.

If she had to use the Wakandans to get the vibranium from the blue people or the blue people to get vibranium from the Wakandans, it did not matter. She had done this several times and this would be no different.

Divide and conquer. Rinse, repeat.

She needed to pay her ex-husband a visit. He needs to give his little African friends a call.

__________________________________

Shuri was going to blame her thoughts and actions on all the Amarula Aneka had snuck her earlier that day.

Since she became the Black Panther, it was the only alcoholic beverage that could get her tipsy quickly enough. She had been so frustrated that her mother had kept her out of the loop regarding her request for kimoyo beads for Namor, that it had driven Shuri straight to the bottom of a bottle.

She had been struggling to sleep, plagued with thoughts of that stupid sea pigeon and their violence against each other. The alcohol slackening her inhibitions allowed her to relish in it, in a way she had avoided before. The two of them had fought to the death, their full strength levied against each other, neither feeling like they had to pull any punches because the other could take it.

No one felt like a monster, or maybe they both were monsters, because now, in the privacy of her room and intoxication, she could admit that, even with all the regret that came after, she had enjoyed it. She had loved the sound of her fist against his solidly muscled flesh, the feel of her claws sinking into his skin , the sensation of ripping off his wings and the delicious way his screams of agony made her brain tingle.

And she wanted to do it again.

She had spent all her time since their battle trying to learn how to adjust to her new panther strength, quickly figuring out that for most of her life now, she would have to exert so much energy in restraint so as to not hurt or damage anyone or anything around her. It was exhausting already.

But with him, her brain goaded, she would have none of those worries because his strength matched her own. Oh how she longed to watch his skin turn purple at the strike of her first, or watch the red of his blood contrast beautifully with his gorgeous ochre skin , glistening with sweat.

Why was she salivating right now, fantasizing about physically assaulting this man?

“Because you’re too much of a coward to admit you want to do the horizontal tango with dolphin man.” N’Jadaka taunted her from the ancestral plane.

“Shut up N’Jadaka!” She yelled and threw the bottle across the room after she poured the last of it into her cup.

“Fine I’ll be quiet. Won’t change the fact that you wanna hunch on Aqua Lad ,” N’Jadaka snickered.

“Ugh!” she muffled a scream of frustration.

She took the last of the cream liquor straight in one gulp, enjoying the warmth that spread through her chest. The burn reminded her of the heat of his skin pressed against hers when he was…

Bast dammit!

She was losing this battle and she was going to blame the alcohol for what she was about to do. Like a coward.

She pulled up footage from their tussle inside of the Royal Talon and set the audio to come through her ear beads. She felt her cheeks and core grow warm as his grunts came through the tiny speakers and rumbled in her ears, lighting up her brain.

She watched as he raised his spear over and over, sweat dripping off his well-defined back, every movement causing his muscles to ripple in a way that was igniting her blood.

It’s just lust, she told herself. A simple, natural physiological response when observing the pleasing form of a beautiful human.

 “Liar,” N’Jadaka mocked.

She felt an inordinate amount of shame when she asked Griot to rewind and slow down the playback to .5x speed. His groans were deeper and stretched out now, and instead of sounding distorted he just sounded hungry, sensual, primal. His extended movements gave her eyes more time to feast on his flesh, his motions appearing graceful.

Leave it to him to be even sexier in slo-mo.   She did not even think it was humanly possible, such a thing.

It did not take long for Shuri to find her pleasure, with his voice in her ear and his image on the screen. Much to her chagrin, his name escaped her lips when she finally reached her peak, imagining how it would feel a million times better if he was the one who’s fingers were in between her legs.

She hated his guts with all her heart.

“Nah, you want him in your guts cuzzo. Ain’t nuin wrong with that! On second thought, there’re a lot of things wrong with that! You’se a sick negro cousin. I respect it!” N’Jadaka cackles filled her head.

“SHUT UP!”

She turned the volume up louder and let the footage play. Her eyes grew heavy and the lids drooped. The last thing she remembered was the gravelly voice of the sea king rasping “Princess” in her ear beads and thinking that she wished he could say it just like that while buried inside her.

__________________________________________

The throne room has descended into a cacophony that rivaled any fish market. Queen Ramonda knows that she should be a lot more patient but years of being questioned had eroded some of her tolerance.

While she rarely let it affect her decisions or allowed it to show outwardly, there were few on the council of elders that she trusted since they allowed N’Jadaka to take the throne and almost lead Wakanda into another civil war. They stood by idly and watched him burn the heart shape herb, removing the path to succession forever, if not for her brilliant daughter.

She knew how a couple were hungry to see their tribe replace the Golden Tribe on the throne, while others would not so subtly question her decisions by alluding to her grief. None of them would be able to endure all that she had and remain as steadfast in service to their country as she had, she was certain.

Ironically, the one she trusted the most was once a fierce rival. She looked to her left where he sat, quietly munching on a carrot, not joining in the murmurs of the others in the room. M’Baku had become somewhat of a son like figure to her after T’Challa passed, taking his oath to look after her and Shuri seriously.

He was still his sarcastic, bombastic self in the weekly council meetings, but when she needed a sounding board or a listening ear, his compassion, empathy and intuition were on full display. His comedic nature was a cover for his sharp, perceptive eye and uncanny ability to read people and situations with frightening accuracy.

She trusted him with her life.

Suddenly, the Jabari let out a loud, obnoxious yawn, startling all in the throne room. Ramonda hid a smile.

“Are the chickens through clucking? Eh?” he gestured wildly at the rest of the council with his half-eaten carrot. “Are you lot done?”

Zawavari was the first one to find her voice.

“Do not start with me, Jabari, I do not have the patience for you today,” she wagged a finger in his direction.

M’Baku waved her away,

“Perhaps you should have purchased some before you came here today, no? Seems like poor planning on your part,” he stretched his lips mockingly. He turned to the Merchant Tribe elder next.

“How much is a pound of patience going for these days? Zawavari is in dire need. Maybe she can get a discount if she buys wholesale.”

Zawavari had had enough. She erupted from her seat. “Listen Jabari! I have shoes older than you! You will not speak to me-“

Ramonda gave Ayo a look and the new general slammed her spear against the floor, silencing everyone so that the queen could speak.

“I understand you all have… reservations. I do not expect you to jump for joy or have no resistance. But what I do expect of you,” she squared her shoulders and looked at each council member in the eye, “is for you to put Wakanda ahead of your personal feelings.”

“But Queen Mother, respectfully,” M’Kathu ventured, “surely you understand our hesitation to have Namor and his people here after what happened-“

“You mean after he almost killed me?” Ramonda said with deliberate softness, a contrast to the hardness in her eyes as she stared at M’Kathu. She saw the man fidget in his seat.

“Well, um, yes. Don’t you think-“

“Don’t you think,” interrupted M’Baku, “that the Queen is the one who should have the most aversion to the fish king? She, after all, was the guest of honor at his little surprise pool party.”

Gasps sounded around the room and Ramonda pretended to pinch the bridge of her nose to hide a smile. As inappropriate as his humor was sometimes, she enjoyed how much M’Baku got under the skin of the more pretentious members of the council.

“I am not sure why all of you,” he continued, “who were far away from danger, safe in your little panic rooms, are more incensed than those of us who actually faced the man in battle.”

“Thank you, M’Baku,” the queen stepped in. If she allowed him to continue, one of these thorns in her flesh was going to burst a blood vessel.

“K’uk’ulkan and I have been speaking. All of this was avoidable, and we both see where we could have acted differently. I will admit he has all the tact of a rhinoceros, but he is not unreasonable, and he is a good king to his people.”

“He might be a good king to his people, but he is still a monster to ours! Or do you forget that he kidnapped the Crown Princess of this nation?” M’Kathu spoke up.

“Griot,” the queen said in response.

Instantly a holographic screen appeared in the center of the throne room and there was a large man with a hammerhead shark skeleton upon his head and the princess on a bridge at night.

‘My name is Shuri, Princess of Wakanda. Do not bring any harm to this girl! Take me with you. I request to go with you to Namor.’

The room watched as the large warrior put a mask over Shuri’s face and there were shrieks when a humpback whale shot up out the water and the blue man carried Shuri and Riri to the ocean mammal and disappeared into the night.

The recording stopped and the screen disappeared. The queen stood from her throne and clasped her hands in front of her. When she spoke, she did not give any room for challenge.

“As you all can see, my daughter, whatever her reasons, requested to be taken to Talokan. The king had told me so himself and naturally, I did not believe him. And so, I sent Nakia to get her. If he is a monster to our people, then so am I, to his. In retrieving Shuri, I had two of his children killed.”

She let her words linger in the air, watching them clutch their pearls as they processed the information. Would they think like elder statesmen and experienced politicians or choose the path of the self-righteous and elect to be hypocrites devoid of empathy?

“If any child of Wakanda’s blood had been spilled first, would you all not ask that I deliver justice for the family?” She stared at them, but no member dared to answer, and she continued.

“That's what I did. I spilled their blood, in the home of their god and king. He came from meeting me under the guise of equitable negotiation and returned to his home to find the blood of his children staining his floors. Tell me, if you were him, what would you have done?”

She looked at each member individually.

“I would have crushed their skulls without hesitation,” M’Baku growled.

The River Tribe and Merchant Tribe elders hummed in agreement. Zawavari clenched her fists and M’Kathu stared at the floor.

“As would I, M’Baku. As would we all. I stopped at nothing to get my child. He came to avenge his. He could have destroyed Wakanda. That’s what a monster would do,” she gave Zawavari a pointed look.

“Instead, he attempted to take two lives for the two children that he lost. A life for a life. He once more extended a hand in alliance, after his justice was served. I ask, would a monster do that?” She saw the River Tribe elder shake his head. Good.

“From what my daughter tells me, we rebuffed the offer and met him in the ocean for battle. She made him yield and they decided for the good of their people to end the war and come to a truce. I called to him, and he came, once again offering an alliance. Does that sound like a monster to you? Or like a father acting in the best interest of his children, his pride be damned?”

Zawavari’s face was twisted into an expression of consideration as she contemplated the queen’s tapestry of words. Even some of the Dora were subtly nodding their heads.

“He wants us to go to war with the world with him! He may not be a monster, but he is a madman!” M’Kathu protested.

Queen Ramonda looked down to the floor and huffed a chuckle, smirk on her face when she looked back up at the Border Tribe elder in blue and silver.

“The world is about to go to war with us. We can only hope that he agrees to go to war for Wakanda.”

Chaos erupted in the throne room and the Dora quickly squashed it with two taps of their spears on the ground.

“What do you mean, Queen Mother?” asked the Jabari.

Queen Ramonda took a deep breath and relayed to the council the intel from Agent Ross on the President of the USA’s approval for CIA sanctioned destabilization efforts on Wakanda and further offensive action. She disclosed one of the plans to pitch Wakanda as a threat to global security and recruit the EU and U.K. to join forces to neutralize the "threat".

“While he does not possess all the intel that we do, he is not ignorant of world events and the politics of the surface nations. He is aware of Wakanda’s lack of allies outside of its borders. He has heard the rumblings of leaders greedy for vibranium, willing to pillage a tiny country for it. He knows that we stand to benefit more from an alliance than they do. But he wants to pursue it anyway. For the good of his nation’s future generations.”

“If what Agent Ross is saying is true, it would make sense to work with the sea king. Or at least hear what he has to say,” Zawavari spoke up, looking around the room earnestly.

“We are a mighty nation, yes,” the River Tribe elder piped in, “but we cannot take on the whole world unscathed,” he finished with nods from almost all the council.

“ I say if the fishman is offering an alliance a third time, we would be fools to refuse to at least hear what the man is bringing to the table,” M’Baku contributed.

“He is meeting with his council as I am meeting with you. K’uk’ulkan and I would like that both councils meet before he and I address our nations and take responsibility for our actions and seek their forgiveness. There is much healing that needs to occur between our people, but it needs to begin here, with us.”

She did not ask but told the council in so many words that the alliance was proceeding with or without their approval.

“All in favor?” she looked around to see all raise their hand, even though somewhat reluctantly in the case of M’Kathu, who could barely hide his disdain.

“Great! We will meet again to plan the healing ceremony.”

The Dora tapped their swords once to adjourn the meeting and the council filed out of the heavy double doors of the throne room.

The queen dropped her shoulders and exhaled the tension from her body. She lifted her kimoyo beads and said, “Griot , call Shuri.”

“Calling the Princess.”

Her daughter’s sleepy face came over the screen, obviously still in bed, scarf haphazardly sat on her curls.

“Hello Mother,” the princess croaked.

“Can I expect to see the Black Panther at the next council meeting?”

“Yes mother. I overslept,” she replied groggily.

“I can see that. Any update on the beads for K’uk’ulkan?”

Shuri rolled her eyes, and the queen shook her head. When would this child grow out of her rebellious ways?

“I am done with them. I just need to do a final pressure test and I will have them delivered to you.”

“I would like you to deliver them to me personally. I need to speak to you about the council meeting that you missed today. You are the Black Panther now and while I know you do not care for politics; you are an essential part in this alliance succeeding.”

Ever since she had asked Shuri to make the kimoyo beads for the Talokan king, her daughter had been in an extraordinarily bad mood. She supposed that the girl was not fond of the man who tried to kill her mother, and she could not blame her. But her daughter had never had such strong reaction to anyone before so perhaps their fight had been particularly gruesome. Yet, she had come out victorious and had managed to broker peace with the king while on the battlefield. So why was this alliance aggravating her daughter so much?

“I already did my part, mother. I filleted the man, I promised him we would keep his identity hidden from the Americans and I made him his stupid beads. As far as I am concerned you and Namor have it handled and did not need any input from me then. I don’t see why I am necessary now.” Shuri said with a little more attitude than the queen thought was appropriate.

“K’uk’ulkan and I have an understanding, yes and we are attempting to foster a relationship that will serve as an example to our nations. Our people are intelligent, they will not be fooled by a farce of a truce. We owe it to them to put our pride aside and show them that if he and I can hurt each other so grievously and still find a way to forgive and work together, then our countries can too. It will not work if you are not also on board. I can’t do this without you, Shuri.”

She needed to make her daughter see reason and understand the life of sacrifice that was destined for them both.

On the screen she saw the princess’ eyes widen as she shot up from the bed and began pacing around her room.

“I’m sorry?” Shuri screeched, “foster a relationship?! What in Bast’s name do you mean you and Namor are ‘attempting to foster a relationship’?” The princess’ voice had risen several octaves.

She stared at her daughter curiously.

“It is a fundamental step in forging an alliance, especially in our very specific circumstances. We are not allying over resources; we do not need each other for wealth or conquest. We simply are two unique nations with something everyone wants to take from us, and we must protect it. We are deciding to do so together, for the good of our people. Is that not why you spared his life?”

“Yes but he cannot be trusted!” her daughter yelled into the beads. The queen was growing more and more confused by the resistance.

“Now child, when did I ever say anything about trusting him? This is all new. He trusts me just as much I trust him, which is very little. But I do trust him to keep his word and in turn he has to trust that I keep mine and over time, perhaps we can grow to trust each other. Why are you fighting me on this?” she squinted at the princess.

Shuri rubbed her face in frustration.

“ I am not fighting you, I am just concerned that you seem to forget he tried to kill you!”

The Queen chuckled. Was that it?

“And you think I have forgotten?” she shook her head and stood from the throne and headed to the newly reinforced high glass windows of the throne room and gazed out upon Birnin Zana.

“He tried to kill me, my child, not you. And from what you’ve told me, you tried to turn him into blackened salmon. He is still alive, and so am I. What am I missing here, Shuri?”

She watched as the young woman’s mouth opened and closed as she searched for an answer.

“What you’re missing here mother, is that Namor is a monster!” Shuri exclaimed, waving her arms wildly, her image on the screen following the movement.

The queen cocked her head and stared at her daughter. There had to be a reason why the princess was so agitated at every mention of the sea king.

“Shuri, be honest with me, please,” she stared intently at her daughter, “ what happened when you were in Talokan? Did he hurt you? Mistreat you? Because I swear to Bast, if he did I will end this alliance immed-“

“What? No!” her daughter interrupted, panicked.

“Are you sure?” she pressed. “I will not shake hands with a man who has abused you in any way. I refuse.”

“No! Mother, no,” her daughter breathed in deeply and sighed, “he was… he was kind, and generous and he made sure we had everything we wanted, and he showed me his beautiful city and people were all so pleasant and kind to me as well.”

The queen cut her off.

“Well, my dear, I can’t help but be a bit confused. Why do you think him a monster?”

“Because he was nice to me! He was nice to me, and he promised me …” she stopped herself, “he promised me peace and then he threatened to kill you moments later! Only a monster could do that!”

“Shuri,” the queen smiled at her daughter’s innocence, “I called him and threatened to reveal him to the Americans to give Nakia time to retrieve you and Ms. Williams and had two of his people killed. Two that he called his children. Does that make me a monster too?”

The princess opened her mouth but shut it, mulling over the queen’s words.

“Can you have the beads ready by tonight?”

“Yes, mother. I am heading to the lab right now.”

“Thank you. If you are done before ten this evening, can you bring them to my room?” the queen asked casually.

“Yes but why do you need them by tonight? Isn’t he coming next week to meet with the council?”

Ramonda rolled her eyes. That child of hers questioned everything from the day she could speak and has never stopped.

“Shuri, I would prefer the beads tonight before ten. If you are unable then you are unable. Simple.”

“Unable?!” her daughter squawked dramatically. “You insult me mother. I will be in the lab working on your precious beads until further notice.”

“Thank you. I assume that means I will not be seeing you for dinner.”

“You assume right,” Shuri responded cheekily.

Ramonda sighed deeply, but she was happy to see the spark of defiance in her daughter. It was much better than the hollowness that had rested upon her since her brother joined T’Chaka in the ancestral plane.

“Please remember to at least eat and drink water while you work.”

“What’s that mother….I…. you’re…. breaking… up…ccccchhkk….chckckkck…” the princess’s voice came through the beads before the call ended.

The queen rolled her eyes again and laughed softly as she exited the throne room and walked towards her suites on the opposite end of the hallway.

The old Shuri was peeking through the cracks that all the loss and devastation had left on the young princess and the queen was grateful to see it. She would table the conversation about her being more amenable towards the Talokan king.

He would be meeting with the council in ten days and she needed to make sure her daughter was on her best behavior and did not offend the king or his council. But, she could tackle the subject with her daughter at another time. She had to go prepare for her private meeting with the king in question.

This would be the third time since their first meeting that they would convene again. If she was honest, she could admit that he was good company, and it was refreshing to discuss matters of nation building with someone who understood how heavy the head was that wore the crown.

He was an intense and serious man, undeniably, but by their last meeting she had seen a lighter side to him on occasion as they discussed their dread at meeting with their respective councils and the resistance they anticipated. His capacity for levity was surprising and she appreciated his candor and honesty.

He did not hide behind pretty words that were meant to obscure true intentions. No, he was fearless and therefore did not see the need to impress or lie to her and it encouraged her to match his forthrightness.

Together they imagined a future for their nations that was filled with mutual exchange and integration, and it was heartwarming to share the vision with someone else who saw it as clearly as she did.

They had each joked about wanting to see the other handle their respective councils. And they had agreed to meet this evening to finalize the strategies on how to get their councils to work together the best way possible, as well as teach each other any culturally sensitive information they would need to know for the big meeting.

The council had been more draining than usual, and she could admit that she was looking forward to the meeting with the king so she could decompress and speak with him in a way that she was unable to with anyone else.

Ramonda entered her suite and made her way to her desk to make some notes. She had made some interesting observations among the council members, and she needed to write them down before she forgot so that she could process them later.

It was imperative to their survival to have this alliance work and the queen was not willing to have anyone get in the way of that.

“T’Chaka, T’Challa, be with me. I cannot do this alone,” she offered up to the ancestral plane. She rolled her shoulders after she sat at the desk, trying to rid herself of some of the tension she acquired earlier.

Heavy indeed was the head that wore the crown.

______________________________

Shuri could not believe what she was seeing. She was going to kill him.

After she had dropped the kimoyo beads off to her mother at nine thirty, she deliberately spent more time than was necessary explaining the specifics of his set. She lingered in her mother’s bedroom, making small talk, watching her mother grow increasingly restless, checking the time on her kimoyo beads every few minutes.

Did she have somewhere to be? At this time of the night?

She had known if she had asked the queen, she would not have gotten a straight answer. Her mother was a master of not answering direct questions without lying but still avoiding giving you the response you desired.

When her mother feigned unconvincing yawns, she took the hint and left her room, but placed an inconspicuous tracker on her mother’s back when she hugged her goodnight.

Her new habit were long, relaxing baths after hours in her lab and she had almost fallen asleep in the large, circular tub when she remembered her mother’s strange behavior and got out, suds and all to check on the queen’s whereabouts.

When she saw that her mother was at the bank of the river where they first met Namor, she threw on a white tank top and blue bike shorts then called her panther suit to encase her body before leaping over her balcony and stealthily into the night.

She had made her way to the river, stopping short when she heard the familiar rumble of a deep voice that she could recognize anywhere.

Him!

She was about to rush to tackle him when she heard her mother laugh. She drew closer, but she could not see them through the thick shrubbery, so she scaled a tree to give her a better field of vision.

She almost fell off the limb she was perched upon, when she saw her mother, SMILING, and handing K’uk’ulkan the kimoyo beads that she had given her earlier and he making a joke that his general Attuma would soon be making a request for his own bracelet.

He then went on to tell Ramonda that Attuma had been begging to come to the surface with him in hopes to meet the “blue warrior” again. The queen asked who he was referring to, and Namor stated that he did not know but whoever she was, she had bewitched his general and he needed an antidote.

Shuri’s stomach turned watching them both laugh heartily and continue to speak with a familiarity that made her chest tighten. She grew more and more disgusted watching them converse amicably, her mother writing in a notebook she had never seen before. The princess was not paying attention to the words coming from the pair but rather was attentive to every expression that passed between the two, observing the sheer comfort they seemed to have around each other.

It was a miracle that Shuri did not fall from the tree when Namor and the queen walked to the water’s edge, and he cradled her mother’s head and rested his forehead against hers! Murderous intent flooded her entire body, and she was not aware that she was gripping the branch above her so hard until it snapped loudly and Namor’s head shot up and he squinted into the dark in her direction.

She knew that he could not see her blended into the darkness, but she held her breath anyway. If her mother knew she was spying on her secret alliance meeting with the king of Talokan, there would be hell to pay. Besides, how would she explain her presence here?

The urge to choke Namor until he was as blue as his people on land was strong in her when she watched him smile down at her mother, who dismissed the noise as animals in the forest. It was one of those smiles that she had lived for during her time in Talokan, before everything went south between them.

Now here he was, flashing that heart-stopping grin at her mother and her mother returning it in kind. Was she …jealous? No. No I am not, she dismissed. I am just worried that this oaf will harm my mother again. That was all.

Somewhere in the ancestral plane, N’Jadaka snickered.

Her mother gave the Wakandan salute and Namor returned it with his open-palmed Talokan salute, and he flew off while the queen put out the fire and walked away from the river, back towards the Golden City.

While she waited for the coast be clear, Shuri sat in the tree, seething.

How dare he come on her land and speak to her mother and smile at the queen the way he had smiled at her once before? Who did he think he was? And the forehead thing?! Who the fuck did he think he was!? How dare lay his filthy hands on her mother? And why did the queen allow him to do so?!

She scaled elegantly down the tall tree still deep in thought.

Was this the first time? No, it couldn’t be, they were too friendly, too familiar. They were laughing together for Bast’s sake! How many times had her mother met this man alone?

A growing dread was invading her veins. Was he… was he trying to seduce Queen Ramonda?

That snake! Of course, he was! He was trying to seduce her mother the way he tried to seduce her. She had to warn her mother at once! She needed to know he could not be trust-

“Princess.”

A chill shot up her spine as she stood rod straight. She turned towards the source of the gravelly voice that went straight to her womanhood.

“Namor,” she spat even though every nerve in her body was jumping, electrified.

“Why are you here, Princess?” he glowered at her, the moonlight giving his bronze skin in a flattering sheen.

“Why are you here?!” she hissed, “You have no business within my borders!”

The stood there, eyes burning into the other, chests heaving with unspoken words, the tension in the air so thick it was as if there was a bubble around them and someone was slowly removing all the oxygen from it.

“You are right. My business is with the Queen only,” he sneered, and pivoted on his heel and walked away from Shuri towards the river.

She blinked in surprise, watching him retreat. She had expected some pushback from him, not for him to acquiesce and leave.

She started after him calling his name. How dare he walk away from her?

“Namor!” she called but he did not turn or stop walking.

“Hey. Hey! I’m talking to you!”

At the edge of the river, he finally stopped, and she caught up to him. Grabbing his shoulder, she turned him around to face her, his face the picture of annoyance.

It only enraged her further. “How dare you walk away from me while I am talking to you?” she demanded, her fists clenched at her side. She wanted to hit him, punch him until his skin bore the marks of her fury, slice into him until his blood stained the soil beneath them.

She also wanted to taste his lips.

“I do not care if you are speaking to me, Panther. I do not wish to speak to you.” He turned his back to her again and stepped into the water. Launching herself into the air, a shocked Shuri somersaulted over the sea king and landed in the water in front of him, stopping him from going further.

He stepped towards her, but she bared her claws and he paused.

“What do you mean you do not want to speak to me?” she asked him menacingly. The gall of him. The absolute, unmitigated gall of this irredeemable buffoon!

He raised his brow in feigned innocence and bowed mockingly with a hand on his bare chest. She hated that the sight of him made her mouth water.

“My humblest apologies, Black Panther. I was not aware that you struggled with the colonizer’s language, seeing that you love them so much. Allow me to try again. Andifuni kuthetha nawe,” he repeated perfectly to a stunned Shuri.

He took her shocked silence as an opportunity to brush past her and head further into the water.

She stopped him with her panther strength, her fingers digging into his muscled forearm.

“I don’t care if you don’t want to speak with me. I have loads to say to you!” she turned him to face her,  retracting her mask and stared him down, daring him to move again.

“I do not wish to hear the words of a liar.”

“The next time you call me a liar I will slice off your other wing,” she threatened, gesturing towards his ankles in the river.

He sneered and took a step towards her, and they were almost toe to toe.

“What is it that you want from me, Panther?” he growled, baring his teeth, not hiding his irritation with the princess.

“I do not want a thing from you,” she growled, taking a step forward, baring her fangs too. She was not afraid of him. After all, he had yielded to her not the other way around.  

“Still a stranger to the truth, I see,” he smirked and shook his head, almost as if in pity, which enraged Shuri further.

“How dare you?” she opened her fists, claws out, ready to attack him, alliance be damned. His condescending tone was too much for her to bear.

He eyed her warily and said, “Be wise and put the claws away, Panther. Or do I need to call your mother?” a smug half smile tugged at the corner of his mouth.

It was too much for Shuri. With a yell she rushed him, but he was faster. Using his functioning wings, he spun counterclockwise until he was behind her and hooked his forearm in the crook of both her elbows, pulling her against his chest, trapping her arms between their bodies.

The heat of his body warmed her chest, and it was all she could do not to melt into him. But instead, she struggled in his hold and threatened his life. She heard him sigh when she yelled at him to unhand her, and he released her to continue walking deeper into the river.

“I need you to leave me alone, Shuri,” he said over his shoulder.

“Why are you scared of me?” she mocked at his retreated figure.

In a flash he was in front of her and when she gasped, he chuckled darkly.

“No,” he said slowly and leaned in to say into her ear, “it is you who are afraid.”

“Afraid of what? You?” she laughed loudly in his face.

To her annoyance, he watched her impassively and waited until she was silent.

“No,” he replied calmly, “you are afraid of the truth. You run from it like a gazelle chased by ravenous hyenas. I asked you a simple question and you could not answer. What do you want from me?”

“Nothing. I want nothing from you!” she said but she could see he was not convinced

He crossed his arms over his solid chest and the swell of it made Shuri want to place her hands on his pecs and squeeze. She hated herself for where her mind was going right now. Why didn’t she let him leave?

“What do you want from me, Princess,” he repeated, but this time he said her title the way he did in his hut, when it was just the two of them and their desire for each other in the room. Heat pooled below her belly at the memory.

“Nothing,” she responded, but not as strong as before. Oh no.

Namor closed his eyes and inhaled deeply. When he opened them again there was a hunger there that almost sent her running into the night. Her heart was pounding in her chest and her tongue felt heavy. This was not how this was supposed to go. She had meant to intimidate him, threaten him to stay away from her mother. She wasn’t supposed to be picturing him getting on his knees right now and-

When had he gotten so close?

They were in each other’s face now, sharing air when he asked one more time, almost purring,

“Shuri,” her loins betrayed her at the sound of her name on his tongue. “What do you want from me?”

Shuri could barely take in enough air to fill her lungs. His presence was overpowering but not enough at the same time.

“You tell me, mighty K’uk’ulkan, since you have all the answers,” she challenged, “what do you insist that I want from you?”

He smiled darkly and before she could stop him, he had her in the air and then against a tree, his thigh in between her legs, one hand on her hips, and the other gripping her throat gently. He put his lips against her ear, and she bit back a moan.

“I think you want me to touch you like this. I think you want me to kiss you until all you taste is me. I think you want me to discover every inch of you with my tongue and trace every line and curve of your body with my hands. I think you want me to live between your thighs and drink from you as you scream my name until you are hoarse. I think you want me inside you, you want me to fill you and drive my kep into you harder and deeper until you walk around with the shape of me between your legs. I think you want me to bring you to pleasure over and over until you forget your name, Shuri. That is what I think you want.”

Shuri was unable to speak. She was afraid that her mouth would betray her and tell him he was right. Luckily, he did not wait for her to respond.

“I am honest enough to admit that I want to give all of this to you,” he said this against her lips now, not quite kissing her. It took all her restraint not to lick his bottom lip.

Without warning he pulled away and all his warmth was gone.

No, her body cried pitifully.

He continued,

“I cannot give you what you want of me because I no longer trust you. You deceived me. You made me fall in love with you only to pull the wool right over my eyes. I cannot forgive you when you continue to lie,” he concluded and walked with purpose towards the river once more.

His accusation and confession broke Shuri’s stupor.

“What are you talking about? Are you insane? I deceived you?”

“Leave me be, Shuri. Until you are ready to embrace the truth, until you have the courage to be honest, I will ask that you do not speak to me again.”

He did not wait for her response but dove into the water, leaving a stunned Black Panther behind.

Chapter Text

“You made me fall in love with you only to pull the wool right over my eyes. I cannot forgive you when you continue to lie.”

Namor’s words echoed in Shuri’s head on repeat as she stood under the powerful spray of her shower. Steam filled the bathroom as the almost scalding water beat against her skin like heated pellets. She barely felt it.

Ever since Namor left her on the river’s edge the night before she had been in a haze, their conversation rattling around her brain on a loop.

You made me fall in love with you.

The confession had stunned her into silence. She had barely uttered a word when she returned to the palace. She had declined calls from Nakia and Riri, not even bothering to text them that she would be calling them later. Her brain was a blender.

You made me fall in love with you.

Her mind flashed to the last day in Talokan before he left her in the bed that he made for her. She cannot help the shiver that goes through her body remembering the feel of him becoming one with her, the thrill of watching him shudder when she met his strokes with enthusiasm, the words that he whispered so fervently in her ear.

“In k’aatech, in yakunaj”

He had told her; back then she had suspected but now, did he just confirm inadvertently that he had confessed his love to her mid-coitus before her mother called him away?

She felt her irritation spark for a moment at the memory and rolled her eyes. Honestly, only an Wakandan mother would have the special skill to sense that I was having fun and find a way to ruin it from another continent, she thought. She wondered if she would inherit that skill when she became a mother.

An image of her, swollen with child while Namor embraced her belly from behind and kissed her tenderly on her cheek, flashed suddenly and faded away just as quickly.

“Woah,” her eyes grew wide, and she held her palms out in front of her, “Woah, pause. Brain, what are we doing here?”

The man says he loved you by accident and you are already planning a family portrait, isidenge? Bast send help.

“Go head and turn on the cold water, cuzzo,” snickered her cousin from the ancestral plane.

Turning off the hot spray, she reached for the nozzle with the blue sign for cold, deciding to listen to N’Jadaka for once. Maybe the shock to her system would erase all memories of and desire for Namor.

It didn’t.

I cannot forgive you when you continue to lie.

The nerve of that insufferable reptile. What did she need his forgiveness for? He betrayed her! He seduced her! He threatened to kill her mother and tried to do just that! He stabbed her in the stomach for Bast's sake!

But he fell in love with you, her mind singsonged.

She wanted to refute it and say that he was incapable of love, el niño sin amor, but she knew that was not the truth. The love he possessed for his people was bigger than anything she had ever witnessed in any human. It was intense and enduring, immovable, and unbreakable. She knew all too well the depth of feeling of which he was capable because when he turned his attention upon her, she was powerless in its spotlight.

The hunger and passion that he had expressed for her was all consuming, more immense than anything she had ever received in her short life, but she knew intuitively that she would never feel that sort of depth of emotion for or from anyone else but him ever again.

She supposed that is why his request for her to leave him alone had hurt her more than she was willing to admit. She had always felt a smug sense of satisfaction that he wanted her more than she wanted him. That even during their bloody fight on the beach, there was an undercurrent of desire she felt from him, even with each of them filled with murderous intent.

It was a sharp contrast to the coldness that she felt from him now. He dismissed her, even after whispering all the filthy things he assumed she wanted from him. She could not shake what she saw in his eyes before he left. Hurt.

Why was he hurt? What did he have to be hurt over?

That she tried to kill him? That couldn’t be it.

Was he mad about her leaving Talokan? Couldn’t be, because he was all too happy to be chumming it up with her mother.

She shut off the shower and grabbed a towel to dry off.

Why was he acting so aloof with her? He was so gentle after their battle. And the kiss…

Shuri bit the inside of her cheek. What changed?

She felt herself getting irritated. He was so infuriatingly mercurial! His mood swings gave her whiplash and she wanted to pluck his other wing.

________________________

“Something weighs heavily upon your heart, Queen Ramonda,” Namor’s voice came from the holographic screen hovering over her on beads.

Behind him she could see a part of a painting on the wall that looked suspiciously like a large black cat.

“A great many things weigh heavily upon my heart and mind, K’uk’ulkan,” she smiled a small sad smile.

“Perhaps you can share the burden with an ally?  Two heads are better than one, as you surface dwellers say.”

The queen regarded the sea king slinging a wool cloak across his chest, moving the beads closer to him, a sincere expression on his face. Her last two council meetings had left her uneasy, coupled with some disturbing intel she received. The ground was unstable beneath her and she had to be so careful where she stepped everytime she moved.

It was wearing her nerves thin and much like many other things she was forced to handle alone, the only person who could relate was the man who had tried to kill her. The irony always made her wonder about the ones in charge of fate and the universe. Were they so bored that they weaved these intricate storylines in the lives of mortals to entertain themselves?

With a sigh she decided that trusting the ocean king was no more bizarre than speaking to him this evening while the city sleeps from kimoyo beads.

“Have you ever had to deal with snakes in your fowl coup as king? “ she asked cautiously, the pen in her hands flipping between her fingers as she awaited his response.

“As the Feathered Serpent God, my queen, I am usually the snake in the room,” The corners of his eyes crinkled in mirth.

She huffed a short chuckle and decided to change the subject but he stopped her.

“Twice. Twice I was betrayed by those who I had selected to give me council. Once when I had just become king and again almost two centuries ago.”

Surprised at his candor, the queen leaned forward, her elbows now on her desk, curious for more details. Their conversations were so focused on the future that they almost never spoke about their pasts. There was so much she did not know about her new ally.

“How did you handle it?” she asked gently, encouraging him to continue. She was intrigued. 

“The first time? Disastrously.” A dark expression rested on his face.

“I was lucky that I had support from my elders who advocated that I was young and had just lost my mother and the grief had driven me mad. Whether that was true or not I do not know, nor did it matter. I was so overcome with rage at discovering that those I trusted the most were plotting against me that I retaliate swiftly.”

“What did you do?” She almost whispered.

“ I eliminated them. At the time, I felt that I needed to cut them out like a cancer that could infect the entire body. And I did so quickly and violently. But, my rage cost me the faith of my people. My actions caused them to fear me, to doubt me. And that was never what I wanted as king. It was never who I wanted to be as their god. A king after all is but a servant. Besides, there is no fear in love. How do you love a god you do not trust? How do you trust a king that you fear? “

He rubbed a hand across his bearded jaw.

“After witnessing the damage I brought to the faith of my people, to the morale of my nation; I vowed to never direct my rage towards one of my own again. I worked hard to earn the trust of my people after that, to regain their confidence in me. They needed to know that they were never in danger by my hand. It took some time, but I showed them that I exist to serve them and ensure their peace and safety. I knew that I could never again be the cause of the loss of those things.”

“And the second time?” she asked, enthralled by his openness.

He stared off into the distance and his lips spread into a cold smile and for the first time he looked every bit the serpent of his namesake.

“By the second time, I had learned the effectiveness of patience; of seeing, hearing and knowing the treachery in the shadows, but letting it outgrow the dark until it had no choice but to come out in the light.”

She hummed in understanding.

“There were those who sought to divide Talokan, to find support for their plan to leave the depths and seek a way to live on the surface. They knew I would never allow it and so they planned to get rid of me. “

A sardonic laugh left his throat.

Once more she asked, “What did you do?”

“ I allowed the snakes to ensnare themselves,” he grinned at her deviously. “ What is it the surface dwellers say ? Give them enough rope to hang themselves.”

The queen nodded.

“My T’Chaka would often say ‘you have to play fool to catch wise,” she reminisced.

“You miss him.”

Ramona looked up to the pensive gaze of the god king. Even on a screen he seemed like he was seeing right through her. She appreciated simply being seen.

“That I do. He would have known how to handle all this… this… “

“…All the snakes in your grass?” he finished with a single raised brow. “Or should I say, in your council.”

Her eyes snapped his, widening slightly. How did he know? Perhaps her face belied her thoughts because he answered as if he could read them.

“People make plans in the dead of night near the water, hoping to conceal their intentions under the sound of the rush of the waves or the steady flow of a mighty river, or the roar of a waterfall. Whatever words the water catches, are whispered in my ear.”

“Speak plainly, K’uk’ulkan,” she demanded,a feeling of dread creeping up on her. Did he know of the growing discontent in the secret pockets of her kingdom? Did he think her weak because of it? Did he think Wakanda weak?

“Based on the whispers reaching me I don’t think it wise to do so at present, Queen Ramonda. This information must be delivered to your ears and your ears only. And only in person.”

“Then come to the palace for dinner tomorrow evening,” she blurted.

His brows furrowed at her invitation but she continued hurriedly.

“You will be a most welcomed and appreciated guest to share a meal with me and my daughter. “

A strange look came across his face and she was sure he was about to decline.

“ I accept.”

The queen breathed a sigh of relief. Now she just had to convince her petulant daughter to show up.

“Wonderful! You can let me know any dietary needs -“

“ No need. I look forward to sampling what Wakanda has to offer, “ he offered her a half smile.

She clapped her hands,

“Splendid! I look forward to hearing these whispers of the water.”

A silence fell between them for a short while until he broke it.

“There is something else that troubles you.”

She sighed and regarded him shrewdly. Much like M’Baku, she suspected his over the top personality was a cover for a sly, perceptive man who could see on others what most don’t. She would have to be more careful around him.

“ Yes. Something else worries me greatly. “

Should she tell him her deepest present concern? She closed her eyes and asked the ancestors for guidance. When she opened her eyes she found the god king’s unwavering gaze.

She inhaled deeply and exhaled slowly.

“I told you once that I can be a queen and a mother but -“

“…But sometimes you cannot be both,” he finished for her.

She smiled breifly and nodded,

“Yes. As queen and mother, each title holds different responsibilities. When they align its like breathing. When they don’t it’s like being robbed of the chance to breathe freely. “

She took a deep breath.

“And now to queen and mother, I add another title: grandmother. The snakes in my grass concern me. While I know how to avoid snakes and the Black Panther will most certainly crush them under her heel, the most vulnerable are the ones they attack. And who is more vulnerable than a babe?”

At his silence she looked up to find a range of emotions flit across K’uk’ulkan’s faces, darkening his countenance. When he spoke his voice sounded like quiet thunder.

“Shuri is with child? “

“What?”

His fists clenched in the desk before him.

“Is Shuri with child? Who is the father?” He growled.

Ramonda blinked in confusion at his question and change in attitude. Interesting…

She shook her head. “No. She had better not be. Not for a long time still. No, my son had a child before he left us and no one in this kingdom knows and I would prefer to keep it that way until his mother is ready. “

The queen watched as the ocean king slowly unclenched his hand and relax his shoulders. 

“ And you are worried that your enemies might seek to harm the child.” He stated, not asked.

She nodded in agreement, grateful that she didn’t need to explain. Often he would simply just know.

“ Yes. For now, he is safely outside of Wakanda, away from prying eyes. But, I worry.”

“Understandably so, Queen Ramonda.”

She closed her eyes in preparation for what she was about to do. When she opened them she swore she read concern in the usually unreadable king's eyes.

“ I know that we have been hammering out the terms of the alliance but can I impose on you for a favor? A favor from one leader to another? From one parent to another? “

“Ask of the god K’uk’ulkan and we shall see if he grants your wish.”

________________________

“ So you knocked up the spy huh?”

“Don’t be so crass, N’Jadaka. But yes. “

“Hmph. Karma sure is a bitch.”

“What do you mean?”

“Your dad caused me to grow up without a dad. Now your son is growing up without his. “

T’Challa looked over at his estranged cousin, then at the ground in contemplation.

His father had once told him a man who has not prepared his children for his death has failed as a father. He had made sure to prepare his son for the time when he would no longer be with him on earth, just as his father did to him.

However, he was almost certain that his cousin did not receive the same preparation and his heart broke for a young Erik, a victim to N'Jobu's ambitions, kept away from the peace and privilege of his royal lineage.

“I wish our fathers had both made different choices. There’s a life that you were robbed of and I am sorry,” he eyed his cousin’s profile set against the violet and magenta horizon, noting just how much he resembles his father.

Who could N’Jadaka have been, given the opportunity to grow up in the palace in the Golden City with him and Shuri?

“Yeah well, your pops killed my pops, I killed his son, you pulled a Jesus Christ and came back and killed me. Some real eye for an eye, live action Lion King, circle of life shit,” N’Jadaka folded his arms and raised a brow, sardonic smirk on his face.

“Not this again,” T’Challa rolled his eyes, “ I offered to heal you,” he wagged a finger at his cousin.

N’Jadaka snorted, “Tom-may-to, Tom-mah-to,” he shrugged dramatically.

“Wait,” T’Challa put a hand up and pointed to himself, “does that make me Simba?”

N’Jadaka doubled over in laughter, “Nah I think yo daddy is Scar, technically.”

T’Challa waved his hand dismissively, “Bah. I never cared for Disney much anyway.”

“What I was trying to say was…I wish we had a chance to grow up together. I think, having a cousin to get into trouble with would have been fun. It grieves me that we did not get a chance to find out.”

His cousin’s tried his best to show no emotion besides a small twitch of his lips and the clenching and unclenching of his jaw. After a second or two, he cleared his throat and said a bit thickly,

“Yeah well, I guess we will never know, huh? What we do know though, is that I would beat you at Warrior Falls, any day” he snickered.

T’Challa wagged his finger at his cousin once again,

“Eh eh! I never yielded!”

“Boy, we can settle this right now, once and for all,” N’Jadaka began removing his white woolen cardigan revealing his notched scars underneath, a tally of all the fatalities by his hand, earning him the moniker “Killmonger”.

The fallen king screwed up his face and put a hand up in protest.

“Ah, put your nipples away.”

N’Jadaka rolled his eyes and redressed.

“I guess you’re not as pro-nipple as your sister. Interesting,” he sniggered.

T’Challa snapped his neck towards his cousin and furrowed his eyebrows.

“What are you talking about N’Jadaka?”

“What’s your favorite Hogwarts house?” he asked with a suspicious innocence, “I bet you anything Shuri's is House Slytherin…”

“Erik, you are saying words and none of them make sense to me…”

He carried on as if he did not hear the former king.

“Who knows, the way she’s going, I would not be surprised if before long your kid has some catfish cousins running around the palace, giving him the life you and I never had…”

A confused T’Challa stretched out his hands in query.

“What!? What do you mean!?”

N’Jadaka looked to the left suddenly and cupped his ear, ignoring T’Challa,

“What was that, Father?” he said to no one, and then turned back to the man in white next to him,

“Hey cuz, I gotta go… my pops is calling. You know how it is…”

“What was that about catfish, Erik?”

“…He gets cranky when I take too long, you understand,” N’Jadaka began backing away from a confused T’Challa, a smug smile on his face.

“What are you saying about my sister, N’Jadaka!?”

“I do love our little chats. We need to do it again soon and … what was that? I’m taking too long? I’m coming pops!” He winked at his perplexed cousin and jogged away across the savannah.

“Make sure you tell him to give you something to cover your offensive nipples!” T’Challa yelled at his retreating back.

“Catfish?” he mumbled to himself unable to make sense of the word salad his cousin had just tossed at him. Shaking his head, he went off in the opposite direction to find his baba.

_____________________________

“Incoming call from the Queen Mother.” Griot’s voice announced in the empty lab. Everyone had gone home save for herself and Riri.

“Oh no,” Shuri checked the time. “Shit. Answer Griot.”

Her mother’s face came across the screen, a forced pleasant expression on her face.

Shuri flashed her a guilty smile.

“Hello, Mother!”

“You missed dinner. Is there a good reason why?” her mother’s cheek twitched.

“Mother I am so, so, so sorry. I got caught up getting prepared for the upcoming joint council meeting and I lost track of time.”

“I told you that we had a special guest that I needed you to consult with in regard to our preparations, Shuri.”

Shuri’s eyes widened, and she covered her open mouth with a hand. She had completely forgotten that there was someone her mother had wanted her to meet with.

“Did they leave? I can be there in two seconds!”

“No need, we are on our way to you. You can apologize to them in person yourself.”

The call ended and Shuri groaned.

“You’re in deep shit, aren’t you?” Riri’s voice came from the platform to the back of Shuri where she had set up her own workstation while in Wakanda.

“The deepest,” Shuri replied rubbing her temples. Sighing deeply, she made her way to her washroom located behind a secret panel in the floor to ceiling graffitied column in the middle of her lab.

Her mother had called her that morning and informed her that she needed to attend dinner this evening to meet and discuss the logistics of hosting the Talokanil council. It was decided that they would be in Wakanda for two days and nights and the Queen had wanted to ensure that they had everything they needed while there.

She stared in the mirror at her tired eyes and splashed some water on her face in hopes to not appear so haggard. She dried off gently and moisturized quickly with some cocoa butter on her skin. Grabbing a tube of mascara on impulse, she swiped over her lashes as fast as she could hoping that it would open her eyes a little. She put on some mango flavored Chapstick, then smoothed down the orange and white jumpsuit she was wearing. At least she did not look so bad today; she was grateful that she had taken extra care with defining her curls this morning.

As soon as she stepped out of the lavatory, she heard the ding of the elevator outside. She exhaled a long breath, rehearsing her apology to the consultant in her head. At least she knew her mother would not berate her in front of company. She hoped.

She was tidying her work desk when she heard the doors open and Riri mutter,

“Ho-ly shit.”

She looked up and was staring straight into the eyes of Namor, the impact of his gaze hitting her like a punch to the gut.

She was frozen where she stood, her brain function grinding to a halt. He was here. Here in her lab, in her space.

“Shuri, aren’t you going to greet us?” her mother’s voice broke into her thoughts.

“Uh, yes. Yes mother. Please forgive me for missing dinner. I was working on the translators for the upcoming meeting, and I got carried away.” She refused to look at Namor.

“It is not my forgiveness you should seek. King K’uk’ulkan came all the way here at my request to consult with the head of the Wakanda Design Group about the accommodations for his people personally. He is the one who deserves your apology.”

Shuri clenched her hands at her sides attempting to get the growing irritation and embarrassment under control. He was invading her space and her mother was asking him to apologize to him! They should be apologizing to her for ambushing her with his presence. Does this man not own anything that covers his full chest?!

“Shuri,” her mother coaxed.

She bit down on her back molars. Two words. It would be so simple to say. Simple but not easy. She could do it. I apologize. I’m sorry. She would do it and get it over with. I apologize. That’s what she meant to say, but what came out was,

“What are you doing here?”

Namor had the nerve to raise a brow and lean ever so slightly into the queen’s ear and remark,

“ Wakandan apologies are quite strange, I think.”

Somewhere above them Riri stifled a snort.

“Shuri Udaku! Where are your manners?” her flustered mother chided her.

“Probably the same place as his modest clothing,” she snapped, gesturing at Namor’s exposed skin peeking through his cloak that crossed his chest.

A choking sound came from the balcony.

“Shuri! Come with me at once!” the queen said, grabbing her daughter’s elbow and dragging her towards the door of the lab. She turned to Namor who had made his way to where Shuri had just been standing, looking at the translators in construction.

“I sincerely apologize for my daughter’s attitude, K’uk’ulkan. I forgot how irritable she gets when she is interrupted from her work.”

“I have heard that cats are quite temperamental. I understand,” Namor smiled extra charmingly at the queen.

Shuri’s blood was an inferno.

“Tempera- ! You are one to talk!” she turned around to level at Namor, growing even more enraged when in response he opened his eyes wide, placing a hand over his chest as if taken aback. Her mother’s grip on her elbow tightened.

“Miss Williams, can you show the king what you two have been working on and take his notes on what else is needed for his council’s arrival and stay?” Ramonda asked the young American on the second level.

The girl quickly ran down the stairs and said breathlessly, “Yes, your majes-,uh, Queen Ramonda, ma’am, your honor.”

Shuri was seething. She wrenched her hands away from her mother and almost broke the lab doors when she pushed against them, even if she did not need to. She was annoyed at seeing him again, looking so casually at home in her space with her mother. She was even more greatly irritated with herself for not keeping her composure. She hated how much he got under her skin.

Behind her she heard Riri address Namor as she left the lab.

“So... kill any scientists lately?” she asked cheekily folding her arms and cocking her head to a side.

He regarded her cooly, “Not as many as I’d like,” he gave her a pointed look and she stepped back, intimidated by his glare. “Caused any more countries to go to war, lately?” he leveled in return. Riri narrowed her eyes and stuck out her tongue at him when he turned his attention back to the desk.

______________________________

Her mother pulled her into the elevator and hit the down button. When they started to move, she pinned Shuri with a furious gaze.

“Explain yourself.”

“Mother I am sorry, but he just…he is…I should have gotten a heads up that your special guest was him!”

The queen gave her a stern expression that made her want to slink away with her tail between her legs.

“And that is the excuse for your embarrassing behavior? You were not given a ‘heads up’?”

Shuri chewed the inside of her cheek, her face heated.

“No mother it is not. I know better, it’s just hard to keep my cool around him. He tried to kill-“

“Stop! I do not want to hear about this anymore!”

Shuri’s jaw shut like a bear trap at hearing her mother raise her voice. She suddenly felt nine again, being scolded for speaking out of turn.

“You complain constantly that no one respects you as an adult but how can I when you act like this?” her mother’s eyes burned into hers as shame made a home in her stomach.

“Mother I am sorry. I-“

“Be quiet! You have said enough! You listen to me now.”

Shuri nodded, unable to meet her mother’s gaze. She knew how she acted in front of Namor was impulsive and unbecoming. The ire of her mother was well deserved, and there was no way to tell the queen that she was still riled up from her recent argument with the sea king at the river because then she would have to reveal that she had been spying on the pair.

Her mother continued,

“Shuri, I know you have complicated feelings towards K’uk’ulkan,” Shuri’s eyes shot open. What was her mother talking about? What did she know? What did he tell her?

“However, you need to resolve them and resolve them quickly. I am alive and you defeated him in battle and gave us a truce. Why do you seek to destroy it now, when we are in danger and in desperate need of an ally?”

“We do not need him mother. I am Wakanda’s protector. I can-“

“Enough! I thought I could trust you to be mature but perhaps I am wrong.”

Shuri’s stomach sank at that. The last thing she wanted was to cause her mother to be disappointed in her. She needed to get her temper under control, even with an infuriating sea pigeon doing his best to get under her skin.

“ I am sorry, mother. I am listening.”

The queen’s expression did not soften when she continued speaking.

“ I have done much work to get the council to agree to this upcoming alliance as has he with his council. We both have our reasons for wanting this uniting of our nations, but it all boils down to the safety of our people. Imagine how I feel, seeing my own daughter try to undermine me at every turn.”

Shuri’s eyes shot up and she felt sting of tears she willed not to fall. She had been so caught up in her whirlwind of emotions around the ocean king that she had inadvertently been causing her mother grief. How could she protect Wakanda when she once again almost put them in danger?

“Shuri, I am not asking you to like the man. I would never ask that of you. Besides, I know you well enough to know that asking you would be reason enough for you not to, you stubborn child.”

“Mama…”

Ramonda held up a hand to silence her.

“You do not have to like him, but I expect you to at least show him respect to his face once he is respectful to you and to work with him. Please. The Americans are planning on attacking Wakanda and we do not know who else is on their side. We cannot face the world alone, Shuri. Not when we do not have to.”

Shuri took a good look at her mother and finally registered a fear that she had never seen in her eyes before. There was more that her mother was not telling her, and she felt uneasy.

“What is going on, Mother?” she pressed.

Ramonda closed her eyes and led her to her private quarters when the elevator doors finally opened. They walked into the queen’s sprawling chambers and both sat at the ornate table in the right corner of the room.

When they settled Ramonda took Shuri’s hands into hers and took a deep breath before she spoke.

“There is much going on, daughter. Much. And I have something to tell you. Something very important.”

“You are scaring me, mother,” Shuri said shakily.

Her mother rubbed the back of her palms gently to comfort her.

“There are many reasons why this alliance is important but there is a very personal one that you should know.”

“What is it, mother, please,” she urged her mother. She was acting strange tonight and it was making her increasingly anxious. Shuri detested not knowing anything and right now she felt like she was more in the dark than everyone around her.

“Shuri, I wanted Nakia to be the one to tell you, but you have not been answering her calls.”

Shuri grew even more confused. “What does Nakia have to do with anything? She’s not even here in Wakanda anymore, as usual.”

“Be kind, my love. The reason she is no longer here is what I need to tell you. It will explain why I am pushing so hard for this alliance. Unbeknownst to any of us, T’Challa and Nakia secretly wed.”

“WHAT?!”

The queen gripped her daughter’s hands even tighter between her own.

“Shuri, please. Allow me to finish,” her daughter nodded.

“Soon after they wed, Nakia gave birth to a child and before she could return to Wakanda, Thanos and his army overtook earth, and it was not safe for her to come back. After the blip took you and your brother, she stayed in Haiti, not letting anyone know who she or her child were, as T’Challa had asked her to do, for their protection. Soon after you both were returned, he fell sick and well… you know the rest. But right now, in Haiti, his son resides, away from the knowledge or eyes of any who do not wish us well, and that list grows longer by the hour, my child.”

Shuri sat in stunned silence, trying to wrap her mind around all that her mother had just revealed to her. Her brother had a son. She had a nephew. Somewhere in Haiti there was a piece of T’Challa. Emotion threatened to choke her, and she was finding it hard to breathe. Tears started streaming down her face and soon she found herself wrapped in her mother’s embrace.

“I know child, I know. I have already made arrangements for you to go spend time with him and Nakia in Haiti, after the Healing ceremony.”

Shuri’s tears came down even harder. Her heart was about to burst. She had thought all this time that it was just her and her umama, but now she had family somewhere out there in the world. Not just any family, her brother’s son! She was an aunt. A love she thought she lost when her brother died started to germinate again and her heart began to stitch itself together so as to not lose it.

“How ?” was all she could mutter in between sobs.

Her mother chuckled and wiped her tears that were being replaced by more.

“You will have to ask Nakia. I personally do not want to know the details.”

Shuri found herself laughing from her toes and could not stop, she was almost hysterical. She had a nephew!

She stood and hugged her mother who joined in her laughter. When she calmed down, she wiped her eyes and grabbed her mother’s shoulders.

“Have you met him? What is his name? What does he look like? Does he look like me? I heard nephews and nieces tend to look like their parents’ siblings.”

The queen laughed.

“One question at a time, child!” she shook her head at the gleeful expression on Shuri’s face.

“His name is T’Challa, but he goes by Toussaint for obvious reasons. He looks like his father and yes I met him when I went to Haiti to ask Nakia to get you from Talokan.”

Shuri’s eyes grew wide, taking in all the information. She had a nephew. Maybe Bast was real after all.

“We will give him a call together when you come back,” the queen said as she walked toward the door, motioning for her daughter to follow.

“Come back? Where am I going?”

“To escort the king to the river. I need you to get on better terms with him. This alliance started with you making him yield but if the protector of Wakanda is no longer on board, how will I convince the rest of Wakanda?”

With the news of Toussaint’s existence, Shuri was suddenly more amenable to playing diplomat to Namor.

“I understand mother, I will fix it. I will be painfully polite,” she flashed her mother a serene smile as they entered the elevator and pressed the button for the lab.

The rode up through the floors in silence, each lost in their own thoughts. The queen was the first to break it.

“He tried to save me, you know,” she uttered softly.

“Who?”

“K’uk’ulkan. When I was drowning, he pulled me to the surface.”

“What?!” Shuri spun to face her mother, shaking her head. “Are you sure? Why would he do that?”

“I am not quite certain. When I asked him, he said that you tried to save someone named Xelha. I am assuming that was one of his people who died.”

Shuri’s mind was swirling again. Her reality was shifting at a rapid rate, and she needed to catch up. In the last twenty minutes she learned that her brother had gotten married, had a child and she was an aunt. Now she was learning the man she thought was a monster, had actually tried to save her mother.

“How did he know I tried to save her?”

The queen shrugged her shoulders elegantly, “That is something you can ask him when you escort him to the river.”

She walked ahead of her stunned daughter and entered the lab where Riri was taking notes as Namor spoke with his back turned to her, assessing the art on Shuri’s wall.

Shuri followed behind her mother, and when she entered the lab, she was struck with how little irritation she felt now at seeing him moving about in her lab. She felt very little irritation at seeing him period.

“Thank you so much for your patience, K’uk’ulkan. I appreciate you taking the time to accommodate my request. I am just sorry that it did not go quite as planned. Please forgive me.” Ramonda said to Namor, the consummate diplomat.

He waved off the apology and smiled warmly at the queen, “You have no need for forgiveness, my queen, you have been a most gracious host and the meal was quite pleasing. I must take my leave now and return to my kingdom.”

“Yes, of course. My daughter will escort you to the river.”

Namor’s jaw twitched as his eyes met Shuri’s who was still standing near the door. His expression was unreadable, and she fought the urge to roll her eyes.

“That won’t be necessary, I know the way,” he said a tad gruffly. Shuri smirked.

“I insist,” she chimed in, much to the surprise of everyone in the room. “It is the least I could do after I missed tonight’s dinner and was so rude to you earlier.”

It took him a few seconds to recover and respond,

“I assure you, I am capable of seeing myself out, Princess.”

She schooled her face into a slightly pouty expression and widened her eyes coquettishly,

“Please, K’uk’ulkan, it's the very least I could do,” she asked, making her voice slightly breathy and innocent. His wings fluttered rapidly at his ankles, and she saw his jaw clench and unclench. She tried her hardest not to be smug.

“If you insist,” he growled.

“Splendid!” Ramonda clapped her hands. “A million thanks, my king. The next time we meet we shall be with our councils forging a new future for both our nations.”

“I look forward to it.” He bowed and held his palms out to the queen and she returned his salute with crossed arms over her chest and she exited the lab.

“Be nice,” she whispered to her daughter on her way out.

“I’m always nice, mother.”

Ramonda rolled her eyes and made her way out the lab to the elevators.

Shuri walked over to her desk where Namor now stood and asked Griot to pull up the list that he had been working on with the American.

“I trust you were able to give your list of needs to Riri?” she asked the solemn god-king.

“What is a riri?”

“Wooooooooooooooooooow,” the scientist voice came from the corner. “You’re lucky I don’t have my suit,” she pointed her screwdriver in his direction.

Ignoring her, Namor turned to Shuri, “ Is that the word for small, annoying American?”

Somewhere behind her Shuri heard Riri mutter,

“Oh he got jokes now? I can get real hilarious with a sonic blaster…”

She hurriedly said, “No, Riri is Ms. Williams’ first name.”

Namor nodded slowly, “So…exactly what I just said then.”

“Weren’t you leaving?!” an exasperated Riri sounded from where she was tinkering.

“Yes we were,” Shuri said quickly. She turned to Namor, “Would you like to follow me?”

They exited the lab and they heard Riri’s voice trail behind them.

“Good riddance.”

Stifling a laugh, Shuri led him to the open elevator and closed the doors with a button. She was in a strangely good mood. She was moments away from seeing her nephew for the first time and excitement was bubbling in her chest.

But that was not the sole source of her change in attitude from earlier. Her mother’s revelation that Namor had tried to save her had been hard to absorb at first. But then she remembered his words on the beach.

“It could have been different.”

By the river.

“You made me fall in love with you…”

In his bed.

“In yakunaj…”

And it was starting to make sense. Why would he try to save her mother unless…?

She looked at him and a smile spread across her face. His brows furrowed in suspicion.

“Why are you smiling at me?”

Her smile turned into a sexy smirk, and she bit her lip, still maintaining eye contact.

His eyes widened ever so briefly, and his nostrils flared. His uninjured wings fluttered, and she felt the gentle breeze against her feet.

“Because I want to,” she said huskily, looking at him through her lashes. She felt the urge to ruffle his feathers tonight, no pun intended.

“Well stop it,” he commanded, glowering at her.

She dropped her lids and licked her lips slowly before she said,

“Make me.”

Flutter, flutter, breeze.

“Princess,” he growled.

“Say it again, just like that,” she purred, eyes still on him.

A deep rumble came from his chest.

“I don’t think you know what you are asking for,” he argued, his voice deep and gravelly.

“You know what I think?” Shuri started toward him slowly and hitting the stop button on the elevator on the way. There was a slight jerk as they came to a halt.

When she stood in front of him, she placed one thigh between his, taking note of the slight bulge in his signature green shorts and gripping his shoulders as she tiptoed so her lips were to his ear.

“I think you like me more than you want me to know. I think you want to touch me the way you did in Talokan. I think you dream about the way it felt when you were inside me the way that I do and you think about it often. I think you are thinking about it right now and you want to know what it feels like to have me come all over your-“

Before she could finish, strong hands grabbed the sides of her face and she was being consumed by a punishing kiss. His hands pulled her close, fusing their pelvises as close as humanly possible and she ground herself against his growing erection and moaned into his mouth.

A groaned sounded in his throat and he pulled away,

“Witch,” he hissed, his eyes hungry, brimming with want that matched the desire in hers.  

“Shut up,” she commanded and claimed his lips again.

Chapter Text

“See I told you!”

T’Challa’s mouth opened, closed and opened again as he searched for words that escaped him.

“Baby Panther is having her enemies to lovers fantasy live and in action.”

“Erik, please,” a pained expression twisted T’Challa’s face.

“Fish man and Baby Panther sitting in a tree…”

“ …Cease. I beg,” T’Challa groaned, wiping a hand over his face.

“F-U-C-K-I-N-“

“ENOUGH, N’Jadaka!”

The usurper’s derisive laugh echoed across the savanna.

“Why you and yo’ sister keep tryna be with people who don’t wanna be with y’all? Y’all traumatized or sumn?”  he asked his cousin.

“What are you talking about? Do you not see my son? Did I not marry Nakia? “

“Yeah, after years of begging, my guy, wit’ your baby-please looking ass,” he sneered at T’Challa.

The former king looked over at his cousin with mild irritation.

“You enjoy the sound of your own voice very much.”

“And you enjoy being a simp very much,” N’Jadaka singsong-ed the last two words mockingly.

“You are again saying words that lack sense to me, Erik.”

“Bruh. We are damn near the same age, and I know Wakanda has the highest speed internet. How do you not know basic pop culture lingo?” he opened his arms wide,while raising his shoulders.

“I was in training to be the Black Panther and King,” T’Challa shrugged haughtily.

N’Jadaka’s sucked his teeth dismissively, “Boy, so was I, ‘fuck you mean?” 

“My duties kept me occupied,” T’Challa retorted calmly, the corners of his mouth curling as he closed his eyes and stuck his nose in the air. 

“What duties? Getting rejected over and over again by a woman who left the country every time you proposed?” N’Jadaka chortled, poking an elbow into T’Challa’s ribs.

His cousin swatted him away, embarrassed.

“I do not tell you my life stories so that you can use them for your mockery,” he cut his eyes at the laughing Udaku.

“You right, you right. My bad,” N’Jadaka placed a hand on his cousin’s shoulder and told him with false sympathy,

“Life has mocked you enough.”

T’Challa grunted and shrugged him off.

“I am walking away now,” he said through gritted teeth, over his shoulder as he left his cousin where they stood.

“Aw, so soon? But I was enjoying our family time!” N’Jadaka feigned disappointment, his arms stretched out towards his cousin.

T’Challa waved him off without turning around.

“Goodbye, Erik!” He said curtly.

“I think I know what Shuri’s new favorite song is,” N’Jadaka yelled at T’Challa’s retreating figure.

He began singing loudly,

“Baby shark, do-do-do-do-do-do, baby shark do-do-do-do-do-do…”

_____________________________________

Every single thought left his head, all else faded to into nothingness with only one single point of focus: her.

She was consuming him, invading places he desperately needed to keep her out, his mind, his heart, his soul. She could be the end and the beginning if he let her.

And oh, how he wanted to let her. He burned for her. He listened for her, watched for her, yearned for her. But only in private, only when she was not there.

It was almost a sort of self-flagellation, a punishment for his many, many sins. This woman, this enchanting, bewitching creature he once thought an angel was capable of masterful deceit and manipulation and he could not let himself get sucked in. Not again.

Maybe for a few minutes more, he thought as he felt his knees grow weak when she let her tongue swipe his bottom lip, asking for entry.

Like a fool, he obliged.

It was all he could do to stop a groan from leaving his chest when her taste flooded his senses. Her lips were the softest and sweetest treat, his eyes rolling to the back of his head behind his lids as he savored her.

Chaac, she even tastes like fruit. This is torture.

Her hands, her perpetually curious hands were everywhere, as usual. In his hair, caressing his throat, sliding from his shoulder, across his nipple, down his abdomen. He was a god, but he felt like a man in her arms, and he hated how much he loved it.

He hated how much he loved her.

How could she be so perfect but so dangerous at the same time?

You are also dangerous, a voice in his head said, so why can’t she be?

I have never lied to her, he answered the voice, not once. But she deceived me, and I did not even see or sense it. I was blind until it was too late, and it ended with two of my children dead.

The memory gave him the strength to pull away and hold her at arm’s length by her shoulders.

“Stop,” he croaked, his larynx barely working, pained at the warmth of her that left him.

“What?” she murmured, her eyes opening in confusion, her lips still glistening from their kisses.

He put his hands down and created more distance between them. The fire growing in her eyes was as intoxicating as her lust.

“I told you not to speak to me unless you were ready to tell the truth,” he grumbled. The princess huffed and threw her hands up in the air, exasperated.

“Honestly Namor, I’m getting sick of your mood swings.”

“And I am getting sick of your aversion to coming clean, Princess,” he spat, baring his teeth at her, not sure if his anger was at her or himself.

He was angry at her for being so irresistible and even more furious at himself for having no resistance. All she had to do was spare a glance his way and with a crook of a finger he was ready to crawl over hot coals to be in her orbit.

He was a god, but she was the universe.

“Come clean about what?!” Shuri opened her arms in frustration, her face looked so genuinely confused, she would have fooled him if he did not know better. It was almost impressive how well she could fake sincerity. Like how she faked all of it in Talokan, in his bed.

 “Start this moving box so I can leave this place,” he gave her his most menacing look. She was unimpressed and glowered in return and folded her arms defiantly.

“No.”

“No?” a brow shot up before he could keep up his attempt at intimidation.

“No,” the princess repeated, pursing her lips, and rolling her neck in a way that made his blood quicken at the challenge laid down in her body language.

He should not find her belligerence attractive but by Chaac he did. The women in Talokan were strong and capable but there was something so different about this headstrong, recalcitrant, spell caster. He wanted to dominate her, possess her, but only with her permission, and only with a promise that she would own him completely after.

It was maddening because he possessed logic, he had a firm grip of his senses yet his desire for her, even after everything that went wrong between them, defied reason. How did he allow himself to become the plaything of this woman?

Goddess, his brain hissed, she is no ordinary woman, she is a goddess.

“Shuri, make this blasted cage move or I swear to Chaac I will rip a hole into the damned thing,” he growled.

“If you so much as breath in the direction of one panel you will return to Talokan with less wings than you came,” she threatened coldly, her voice like a blade, rolling her shoulders subtly, like a cat about to pounce.

He grunted, angered, and aroused by the way she held no fear of him.

“You vex my spirit to no end! I am vexed!” he exploded, unable to contain himself any longer.

She had the nerve to be affronted, narrowing her eyes, brows pinched together in brewing fury, and she stalked towards him finger pointing to his chest.

“I vex you?” she asked both irked and incredulous. “I vex you?!” she repeated, voice rising as she poked him hard in the chest.

“I’ve had it Namor! I am done with you accusing me of something I did not do. You either tell me what you think I lied about or prepare to die in here.”

He hid his shiver with a smug chuckle.

“I assure you that will never happen, Princess.”

She rolled her neck and poked his chest again, harder. “I made you yield once; I can do it again.”

He looked down at her, determined expression and deadly intent stamped on her face.

“You only get one chance to bring a god to his knees, Panther, I have yet to show you all that I can do,” he returned her glare, watching her raise an eyebrow apprehensively.

“You drained my body of water, brought me to a desert and cut off my wing. Do you really think you could defeat me at my best, Panther?” he smirked at her, but his mind immediately answered him that knowing her she would find a way. It seemed that she agreed.

“I was grieving my mother who I thought was dead and I had barely been the Black Panther for two days. Do you think you could defeat me at my best, Feathered Snake?” she sneered, giving him a once over.

They stood there, facing off with each other, anger, confusion, frustration, electricity, want desire, all wrapped up into one, shimmering between them.

Coming here had been a mistake. The ice that he had encased his heart in was melting from the fire that was her presence and he watched helplessly as the last of his defenses melted. Heartache was soon to follow.

“Was any of it real?” he finally asked. Chaac, he sounded so pathetic to his ears. Surely he knew better than to give her an opportunity to scorn him.

“Any of what, Namor,” she asked, her face softening slightly.

It was too late to turn back now.

“Anything that happened between us, before, in Talokan. Did any of it mean anything to you, before you told your mother where to find us?”

The princess’ stricken look caused his heart to sink to the pit of his stomach. She was guilty.

“I did what?” she whispered, doing a great job of pretending to be shocked. If only he didn’t know better.

“You can stop lying now, Panther,” he was losing his patience and his chest hurt,

“I know you took advantage of my kindness, of my faith in you. You told your mother where to find us. You seduced me to blind me to your plans and it ended with two of mine dead. At least the queen admits to her part in this mess.”

Her eyes widened and her confusion seems so genuine, he almost began to doubt himself.

“Namor, are you insane? Are you actually mad? I am the one who should be angry at you!” she yelled her fists clenched tightly at her sides.

It was his turn to be shocked.

“Me? ME?!” his breaths were coming in faster than he liked. Her audacity was sending him to the precipice.

 “I took you to my city, showed you my people, fed you, listened to you, trusted you, gave you everything you asked of me, even against my better judgement, because I had faith in you. I had faith in us,” he cursed his voice for breaking right then, his throat felt thick, all the emotions and unspoken grievances were clamoring to be expressed and it was too much.

“You asked me to keep you instead, I did it. You asked me to spare the scientist I did. You asked me for a bed, I crafted it with my own hands. You asked to see my nation, I exposed them to you. You asked me to trust you, believe in you and in an alliance and I did. You asked me to deliver a letter to your mother, I obliged. You asked me to yield, I yielded.”

He watched as a series of complex emotions cross her face as he laid his heart’s burdens at her feet, forcing her to take responsibility for the blows she had issued to his soul. He refused to relent and pressed.

“I have given you so many opportunities to come clean, selfishly, because I wanted the chance to forgive you, to put it behind me and claim you, ravish you, love you like I did before everything was tarnished. But how can I be with you when I can’t trust you to not pull the wool over my eyes. The last time I trusted you with my affection, you used it against me, to trick me and lead violence into my home and slaughter my innocent. I could forgive you if you confessed. But at every opportunity you spurned the chance to be honest. I cannot forgive that, no matter how badly I want to. No matter how badly I want you.”

It hurt him to say. It crushed him but he had to exorcise her. He could not keep going on like this, succumbing to his passion every time she was near him. The future of their nations hung in the balance, and he could not entertain this little dalliance any longer. The princess’ whisper broke through his thoughts.

“She never got the letter.” She stood there shaking her head at him, brows knitted together.

“I asked her why she came when I told her to wait and not move against Talokan and she told me she never got the letter,” she was looking straight at him, but she was certain that she was not seeing him, her mind calculating.

Could it be? No, Attuma would never lie to him.

“Impossible, my general delivered it to her himself. He watched her read it. And then a day later she invades my home and has my guard and handmaiden killed, a young girl who asked to serve the princess from a foreign land, a girl who considered you beautiful and a friend. How does that happen without help from you?” he knew his tone was biting but he didn’t care. He could not be swayed every time she had tears in her eyes.

Her lips trembled at the mention of Xelha but he refused to be moved. Her sorrow would not bring the girl back.

“None of this is making sense. My mother wouldn’t lie,” she said, her voice shaky.

Something about the sincerity in her tone almost made him reconsider, but he replied,

“Neither would Attuma. There are consequences for deceit and disobedience to his god. He would never risk it for something like this. He had no reason. There is only one person lying here, Panther. And I assure you it is not me,” he stated pointedly.

He saw her register his veiled accusation and she reached over to hit a series of buttons on a control panel behind him, causing them to continue their descent through the citadel.

When the doors chimed open, she broke their stony silence and said,

“I need to speak to my mother now. I trust you can see yourself out.” She gestured towards the doors, not even meeting his gaze.

His heart was a hurricane, but he just had to deal with this chaos inside him in the privacy of the ocean.

His only response was a grunt as he brushed past her, her scent filling his nostrils and causing pinpricks of pleasure in his brain and loins.

He could not leave Wakanda fast enough.

___________________________________________

On the way to her mother’s suites, Shuri chewed her inside her cheek, trying desperately to sort through the information she had pulled from Namor just now.

All this time he has been thinking that she was some sort of honeypot, that she wrote the letter to strategize an attack, while he was gone. How could he think so little of her? Even after she spared his life and promised to ally with Talokan after what he did?

Oh this man infuriated her to no end! The audacity! The sheer immeasurable audacity!

He would rather think that she would sell her body to him to distract him from an attack than to believe that his general, who he trained to be distrustful of surface dwellers would lie and sabotage their alliance.

Well fuck him! She was disgusted. Riri was right, good riddance!

She stopped at the floor of her mother’s residence, and she forced herself to put Namor out of her mind until after her call with her nephew.

The thought brightened her mood, and she felt her cheeks lift with a smile. She was going to meet her nephew. Her nephew.

As she approached the grand doors of the Royal Suite, she felt a nervousness that she could not shake.

Did he know about her? How would he feel about her? What if he did not like her? Would he blame her for not being in his life for all this time?

Taking a few steadying breaths, she unlocked the doors and entered.

Ramonda was already mid-call when she joined her on a chaise lounge where on a large screen projected the cherubic face of a beautiful boy with a dimpled smile that matched exactly with her brother’s.

Her breath caught in her throat, and she blinked away the tears that were blurring the image of the young one in front of her. There was something big and warm blooming in her chest, a feeling of expansion of herself, her identity, her sense of being anchored to this earth by something other than herself.

His face lit up when he noticed her and he bounced up and down excitedly.

“Auntie Shuri, Auntie Shuri, you’re here!”

She laughed because it was the only way to not burst into tears of joy and frighten the boy.

“Yes, my love, I am here. Nothing in this world could keep me away from you,” she said to him.

Nothing in this world will ever keep me away from you again, ever, she swore to him silently, knowing that she would sacrifice her last breath for him if she had to.

He gasped and put his tiny hands over his mouth.

“Auntie, you cut your hair!” he exclaimed, causing everyone to chuckle, “Just like Nana,” he pointed to the queen, who sat next to her beaming up at her grandson, as she reached out to squeeze Shuri’s hand.

“Yes I did,” Shuri ran her other hand over her undercut. “Do you like it?”

Toussaint’s head bobbed up and down, “Yes I like it very much! You look like a Rockstar!”

Shuri laughed, overjoyed that Bast, the ancestors, or whichever god she did not worship had granted her this blessing in the form of her brother’s son. She had not expected this but she didn’t know until then how desperately she needed it.

Nakia’s voice was heard off camera, “Which Rockstar does your umakazi look like?”

He scrunched his face up and tapped his chin in thought. Shuri’s cheeks felt like they may fall off at any moment from how hard she was smiling. He was perfect.

He jumped up when he had decided, “Oh I know! Rihanna! You look like Rihanna with your new hair!”

Shuri laughed heartily and replied, “Wooooooosh! I wish I looked like Rihanna, Toussaint. That was very sweet, thank you.”

The boy flashed her a wide, gapped tooth grin, and her heart ached at how absolutely adorable he was. He looked so much like her brother, the same kind eyes, midnight skin, and though he had Nakia’s nose, his expressions were all T’Challa’s.

I am going to take care of him, brother. I am going to make sure he knows how wonderful you were and follow in your footsteps. I swear it, she prayed internally to her brother.

Her mother was rubbing her hand comfortingly, intuiting the tempest of emotions swirling around her chest. If this was a dream she did not want to wake up.

“My umama tells me that you are coming to see me in Haiti soon, I am so excited! I can show you the beach, we can make sandcastles… can you swim? Oh! And I can show you my school and the garden where me and mama grow our vegetables and… wait, can you speak kweyol?”

Her nephew threw at her, barely stopping to breathe.

She laughed and held her thumb and finger in a pinch and replied, “ Seulement un petit peu, malheureusment,” to the best of her ability.

Peals of laughter came from her nephew, who was holding his stomach in his mirth, amused to no end at his aunt’s terrible accent.  When he could manage to stop laughing, with the urging of his mother he wiped his eyes and responded,

“C’est pas grave, Auntie. I will teach you,” he grinned proudly.

“What about me?” her mother asked, gasping dramatically, clutching at her necklace. “Do I not get any lessons? Is it because I am old?” she squinted at her grandson playfully.

He giggled and replied, “Noooo , you are not old Nana, you are mature! And I will teach you too! But, “he held up a finger and grew very serious , “You must listen to everything I say. Deal?”

Ramonda clapped her hands, “Deal!” she agreed and earned a toothy grin from the child on the screen.

Nakia’s face came into view, “I am sorry you guys, he has a big presentation at school this morning and we must go get ready.”

Shuri’s disappointment was echoed in Toussaint’s whine,

“Oh man, must I go now, mama?”

“Yes, my son,” his mother replied, “you have to get ready for school. We cannot be tardy.”

He looked back at his aunt and grandmother earnestly, “Will you call me again tonight?”

“I will call you every night,” Shuri promised. Her mother nodded in agreement.

“YAY!” Toussaint clapped. “I am going to go get ready for school now. I will tell all my friends my auntie cut her hair like Rihanna! Bye, Auntie! Bye, Nana! Call me tonight.”

“Have a good day at school, little one, we love you,” Shuri replied, tears forming.

Toussaint blew them a kiss. “I love you too!” he waved and then the call ended.

As soon as the screen went black Shuri fell into her mother’s bosom and wept. She wept because he was so perfect. She wept for the joy of his existence. She wept for the time that she had lost with him.

When she could compose herself, she pulled back and faced her mother.

“He looks just like T’Challa mama,” she whispered hoarsely, her mother’s wet eyes matched her own.

“The spitting image,” the queen agreed.

Forever blunt Shuri launched, “Why did you all keep him from me?” her lip trembled as the joy of meeting Toussaint mingled with the realization that she had been kept out of the loop since she was returned from the snap.

Her mother looked away and sighed.

“It was not done to hurt you, please believe me, my child. When your brother returned and told me, with you all barely escaping the battle with Thanos, I agreed with him and Nakia that it was not safe for the boy in Wakanda. There are some who wish to see the Golden Tribe fall and I could not selfishly ask them to bring him here. We all agreed to keep his existence a secret.”

“But why couldn’t you have told me,” Shuri asked, hating how much she sounded like a child,

“Did you all not trust me to keep the secret? Was I not good enough?” her voice cracked, hurt at learning that she was not deemed reliable enough by her family.

“It was never a matter of trust, my child,” the queen tried to reassure her, “the timing just never seemed right. Then when your brother fell sick, you were driving yourself into the ground trying to heal him. And the way you broke when the illness took him away from us, I…” the queen sighed.

“I just did not know how to tell you. Soon after that the attacks on our outreach centers started and then Namor, it just felt like it was never the right time and by then so much time had passed it was hard to justify. I know Nakia tried to call you to tell you but were ignoring her calls. We should have told you sooner. I am sorry.” 

Shuri listened to her mother, and felt a twinge of guilt, remembering all the missed calls and messages she had received from Nakia for the past year. She could be angry with her family all she wanted but she had to admit that she had a part to play in this as well. 

However, not big enough a part for the sting of being excluded not to remain. She wondered how her brother and mother could have smiled at her every day, while keeping a secret so huge. It made her question every interaction. What else had they been hiding from her? 

Before tonight she has thought there was nothing she did not know about the ones who shared her last name. However, her father had been able to keep major information hidden from them for decades and that nearly destroyed them all. It was starting to appear that this was an Udaku trait. 

Something was needling at the back of her mind, and she couldn’t shake it. 

She started carefully, 

“Mother, why did you send Nakia when I wrote you and asked you to wait before doing anything?” 

The queen sighed deeply before answering,

“At the time, I had believed that you had been forced to write it under duress,” she lowered her head. 

Shuri shot from her seat, pointing at her mother,

 “So you did get my letter! But you told me… why did you tell me you didn’t?” She accused the queen.  She began pacing with a hand to her forehead, incredulous. Namor had been right. His general did deliver the letter and her mother did, in fact, read it. She read it and ignored her.

Behind her, Ramonda attempted to defend herself.

“Technically, I didn’t say that I didn’t receive it, I just asked what letter…”

“Mother,” she stopped short in front of the queen. 

Ramonda held up her hands defensively, 

“I know, I know. I just… I don’t know,” the queen wrung her hands in her lap.

“When you asked, I realized that you had indeed written it of your own free will and I had been wrong, I panicked. I had already set things in motion, and well… we are where we are now.” 

Shuri gave her mother a withering look.

“It was easier to pretend that I never got the letter than to admit that I burnt it.”

“You burnt it?!” Shuri screeched, “Why would you do that?”

“I could not very hold on to it could I? I had to keep up the pretense. I saw how you took the news of your father’s deceit. You could not look at his picture for months. I…” the queen’s voice caught in her throat,

“I was afraid that you would think the same of me if you found out what I had done. See, you can’t even look at me now.”

Shuri closed her eyes and breathed harshly through her nose, pinching the bridge as she did her best to get her emotions in check.

This changed everything.

All the anger she had for Namor, thinking that he had charmed her only to deceive her to gain her trust, where does she put it now?

She sat next to her mother, trying to avoid her watery eyes. What a mess this was. Everything could have been avoided if her mother had just listened to her instructions in the letter. They would have never gone to war, Namor would have never tried to kill her mother, they would have never had this rift between them, they would never have stopped-

“Oh Bast,” Shuri cried, sitting forward with her elbows on her knees, her face buried in her palms. What a tangled mess this was.

“Was any of it real?”

Namor’s question earlier flashed in her mind, his sad expression haunting her. Her heart twisted as she connected the dots.

“Why are you asking all of this now, daughter?” her mother asked quietly.

“I thought Namor lied about sending the letter. I even accused him. When he told me that he sent it to you personally, I told him his general was not being truthful and was trying to sabotage the alliance he and I had agreed upon. He accused me of seduc-,” she caught herself quickly, sending a furtive glance at the ever-shrewd Ramonda.

“He accused me of sending you our location, so you enter his home while he was gone. I was so angry at him. So angry, mother. I hated him. I told him you would never lie to me and he was a monster. But now I see that you would. You would lie to me. You would lie to me about something as huge as my brother having a son! So I supposed in comparison, this was nothing to you,” she spat the last sentence and stood again.

Her mother reached out to stop her, “Shuri…”

“No mother! You lied. Baba lied. T’Challa lied! You all lied to me! Why? Why wasn’t I good enough for the truth?”

“We were all just trying to protect you…”

“No!” Shuri turned around, hot, angry tears fell to her cheeks, but she barely felt them.

“No, you were all trying to protect yourselves!”

Her mother opened her mouth as if to say something but thought the better of it.

“You are right. I should have trusted you, Shuri. We all should have. What can I do to make it up to you?” the queen stood to meet her daughter, holding her gently by the shoulders as she searched her face.

The princess looked away. Sadness, hurt, anger, regret, betrayal all fighting for dominance inside her. She needed to think.

“I need time, mother. I need time to forgive you. I won’t be angry for long but… I just need time,” she tried to give her mother a small smile, but she fails.

Sighing, the queen released her daughter.

“I wish I had made different choices, my child. My fears have come with a steeper price than I could ever imagined.”

“I wish you had too mother. It could have been different. All of it could have been different.”

____________________________________________

Everyone in the lab had given the surly princess a wide berth, even Riri, who was at her station working diligently, listening to R&B songs while she worked on the translators, singing out loud every now and again.

No one bothered to speak with her unless absolutely necessary and even then, they were met with stormy expressions and clipped responses.

The revelation that all the pain and grief of the past month could have been avoided kept her up that night, her pillow wet with mourning all the lives that were lost unnecessarily. All the time wasted in hatred. All the possibilities and potential that would never be realized.

She mourned for the love lost to her before she ever got a chance to enjoy it.

It wasn’t until her noonday call with her nephew that her mood dissipated somewhat. Seeing his face light up when seeing her, telling him stories about his baba, making plans together for her upcoming visit to Haiti, lifted her spirits enough that she was able to kiss her mother in parting when Toussaint went to bed.

When she returned to the lab after lunch, she could not get Namor off her mind.

She replayed the conversation in the elevator, over and over again, the image of his face, riddled with hurt, caused a pang in her stomach every time.

It dawned on her that she had called him a monster more times than she could count, but the given the scale of the betrayal that he thought she had displayed, all things considered, he showed a lot of restraint in his response. He even tried to save her mother.

Shuri put down the soldering gun that she was holding in her gloved hand and went still, thoughts beginning to crystalize in her head.

He had left her in bed, only to return to find chaos in his home and the princess who had promised him an alliance, gone. He came to Wakanda, only attacking the queen and Riri. He didn’t kill her in the desert when he had the chance, he yielded and then he continued to work with the woman who killed his people to form an alliance, for the good of his nation.

As much as she hated to admit it, he was not as brash and monstrous and unreasonable as she had been thinking. He was capable of self-control, of selflessness and measured thought.

In the short time that he had known her in Talokan, he had trusted her more than anyone in her family apparently did. He listened to her arguments, heard her proposals, took her suggestions, and made her feel no less than an equal.

He had respected her intelligence, admired it, and made it known. Even after their battle, he had treated her so tenderly, bled with her, cried with her, allied with her.

It could have been different.

She started to remove her gloves. Maybe it still could be.

She sent a message to Namor’s kimoyo beads and prayed to Bast that he would read it and agree.  She needed to see him. They needed to clear the air. She could not bear to have him thinking that what they shared was all a scheme.

He needed to know that it was real for her, it meant something to her, that he meant something to her. Maybe he would forgive her, maybe he would not. But he deserved to not carry around the pain of betrayal, at the very least.

Determined, Shuri shut down her station and left the lab. If he answered her, she wanted to be ready. There were some things she needed to do.

____________________________________

She was truly a witch, this Wakandan princess.

She had been on his mind all day during his usual rounds in his territory, going through the motions of his duties. Several times during his council meeting Namora had to clear her throat to get him to realize he was being addressed.

After the meeting he was so troubled by her seemingly sincere insistence that her mother never received the letter that he questioned his general once more. When Attuma reiterated that he had delivered the letter and saw the queen read it, his chest constricted, and he dismissed his confused nacom.

Mere seconds later, the kimoyo beads that were gifted to him by Queen Ramonda glowed red.

A message popped up into thin air when he pressed the glowing sigil.

K’uk’ulkan, we need to talk. It is urgent. Please meet me by the river tonight. I have attached the coordinates. I will wait for you.  – Shuri.

His heart leapt and he cursed it for its weakness.

He had made his feelings clear to the Princess, laid it all out for her and she still could not just confess to being part of the plot to invade his home.

He had given her so many chances but now it was too late. He took off the kimoyo beads and put it in his pocket, lest he be tempted to call her back.

A couple hours had gone by and by his calculations it was quite late in Wakanda. He wondered if the princess was really waiting for him, even if he did not respond to her. It would serve her right, he thought as he entered his hut and lawy on his hammock, exhausted.

Despite himself he removed the kimoyo beads from his pocket and read the message again. An image of a sad, beautiful princess sitting forlornly by a fire entered his mind. If he could split himself in two, he would have punched himself for once again being so weak when it came to her.

Chaac, why did you send this enchantress my way? Why do you deny me the strength to resist her tug on my heart?

Before he could stop himself, he jumped into the pool outside his hut’s entrance and began a course to Wakanda at the coordinates she sent. He vowed that this would be the last time the entire way.

___________________________________

On the riverbank, Shuri gathered dried twigs to make a fire. The temperature had started to drop, and the thin zip-up athletic jacket with matching lavender shorts would not be of any help as the night progressed. Besides it gave her something to do to keep her anxiety at bay.

She had no guarantee if Namor would even read her message much less for show up, but she had to try.

She had chosen a location a little more secluded than where he had first come upon her and the queen. She did not want to run the risk of them being discovered.

When the fire was roaring, she pulled a log a little bit to the side so she was not in its direct path but could still be warmed by its heat. She brushed it off and sat, prepared to wait till daylight if she had to. She had come prepared.

Behind was a tent that she pitched while it was still light outside. Inside there were thick blankets and a couple pillows, to the corner was a couple thermoses, one with peppermint tea, the other with the strongest rum Aneka could find her and a small bag of snacks.

She did not know how long she would have been waiting and there were thunderstorms on the way. She did not want to be caught in the rain.

___________________________________

Three times, he almost turned back. Three times, he almost listened to his pride, but each time a force that felt bigger than him kept him on course.

When he finally broke through the waters of the river he saw her there, just as his mind had envisioned, her face sad and beautiful, illuminated by the flames of the roaring fire just off to the side of her. She sat on a log, poking a stick into the blaze. His heart twisted at the sight of her.

Chaac damn her!

At the sound of the splash, her head jerked up and she walked stood up straight, her expression unsure, her heart racing as she took a few tentative steps forward, but something she saw in his face caused her to stop.

“Thank you for coming, K’uk’ulkan,” she started timidly.

She stood rooted in her spot as he walked towards her, fire in his eyes and obstinate set to his jaw, his glare dark and piercing.

“You cannot just summon me like some pet, Shuri,” he said harshly, hating the way she flinched at his tone.

“I know,” she looked down at his feet.

He took a step toward her and was glad when she did not step back. As mad as he was with her, he never wanted her to be afraid of him.

“Why am I here, Panther?” he hissed, his was patience running thin.

“You were right, Attuma didn’t lie,” she fidgeted, and bit at her bottom lip, eyes still downcast.

He needed her to stop that right now.

“What?” he asked, distracted by the way she was chewing on her blasted lip.

“She burned it,” she stated flatly, finally meeting his glare. Her eyes were the kind that men wrote poetry about and sang odes to.  

“What?” he asked, not understanding.

“The letter. My mother burned it.”

When he said nothing, she continued.

“After you left, I asked her about it. When I had first asked her why she didn’t listen to what I said in the letter, to wait while you and I worked on the terms on the alliance, she led me to believe that you had tricked me and never sent it.”

His frowned as he tried to make sense of the words she was throwing him with under the moonlight. She took his silence as an opportunity to press forward.

“I thought you had been making a fool of me, pretending to care and believe in me, pretending to value my words and wanting to work with me on this alliance, when your plan had been to destroy Wakanda all along. I felt stupid and I hated you. When you tried to kill my mother, I wanted to kill you.”

 He remained silent, sensing that there was more that she had to say. He was right.

“I couldn’t understand why, and it made even less sense to me why you would call me a liar and be angry with me when you were the one who I thought lied to me. After I confronted my mother, she told me she thought that you had made me write the letter under duress and she burned it. When she found out that I did in fact write the letter without your influence, she realized her error, but it was too late then. What had been done had been done.”

“It really could have been different,” he whispered to himself, and the princess nodded, unshed tears making her eyes shine in the moonlight.

“Yes. It could have been different. All of it. What you must have thought when you came back and found me gone…” she shook her head, searching his face.

He didn’t speak. His mind was whirling as history began to rewrite itself in his thoughts. She had written the letter and her mother burned it. It meant she was not lying. She had not manipulated him; she did not seduce him to get his guard down; that she was everything he had first thought her to be and now even more.

She stepped closer until their toes touched.

“It meant something to me. All of it. It meant something. It meant everything.”

He had no clue when he moved but the next thing he knew he had the princess’s head cradled in his hand and was claiming her in a bruising kiss.

________________________________

She pushed him away.

“Did it mean nothing to you? None of my words, my promises? Why was it so easy for you to believe the worst of me? Did I not do enough to prove myself to you?” she did not want to cry in front of him. She was tired of tears.

“Princess I did not know what to think,” he raised his shoulders defensively, his eyes wide and pleading.

She knew he was right, but it did not hurt any less. While she could understand his anger at finding her gone, she was furious at him for not trusting her promise to wait for him.

“Bast herself could not drag me away,” she had promised him. Why didn’t he give her the benefit of the doubt that she would not leave unless she had no other choice?

“How could you have doubted me like that?”

“Princess, I-,” she cut him off, her ire growing with every passing second.

“You really thought I would barter body like some sort of honeypot?”

“Shuri please -,” he tried to calm her, but she was riled up from all the betrayal she had learned of in the past twenty-four hours. Nakia, her mother, T’Challa. She knew he was getting the anger that they were not there to receive but she was powerless to stop what was flowing from her.

As if sensing her mood, the rain suddenly began to pour, and thunder sounded in the distance.

__________________________________________

When the downpour started, she spun around and entered a tent he had not noticed until that moment.

He followed her inside the cozy space but as soon as he lifted the flap and crossed the threshold, she launched into him.

“How could you think so little of me? After everything you did? After everything I did?” he looked up to see tears brimming in her eyes, his heart breaking when her voice did.

He moved to her and embraced her fiercely, curling around her body protectively, rubbing her back to comfort her.

“Oh Princess, I am quick to suspicion, jaded by years of hostility with surface dwellers. When you first came to me, I thought you too good to be true, to be blessed with a woman so warm, so beautiful, strong, so generous and pure.”

He squeezed her tighter and continued,

 “I believe that is why it was so easy to think the worst when I returned to see my people dead, and you gone. I chose to let my rage and supposition lead the way rather than the character that you displayed me. I was rash and so hungry for retribution for my children, that I wounded you in the most vicious of ways, even though it was not my intention.”

She jerked away from him, but he held her close.

“How could it not be your intention?” she hissed. “You left my body and minutes later threatened to kill my mother and then came to do just that. That feels very intentional to me,” her voice quivered.

He rubbed her tiny sobs away.

“She threatened to reveal Talokan to the Americans. From then, she became nothing to me expect a threat to my people. It wasn’t until the deed was done did I register the cost of it to you.”

He hung his head ashamed. When she did not speak, he lifted his eyes to find her staring at him, sadly.

“How can I atone to you for what I have done?” he kissed her gently, tentatively. She kissed him back.

Spurred by her participation he reciprocated. Their kisses soon went from gentle to passionate, both moved to get closer, drawn together like magnets now that there was nothing more in between them.

“How can I pay for my sins?” he murmured against the delicate skin on the side of her neck.

He felt his belly grow warm at the moan he elicited from her with his feathery kisses.

“Tell me how to make penance, my princess,” he purred against her collarbone, enjoying the rapid cadence of the beat of her heart.

His hand trailed down her chest to her taut nipple where he caught the stiffened peaks between his fingers and pulled gently.

The princess arched suddenly, and a delicious cry left her lips. All the blood in his body pooled below his belly. He stifled a groan when she gripped his hair tightly and whispered,

“Kneel.”

He rolled her sensitive bud in between his fingers and felt her shudder.

“What was that, itzia?” he dipped his head to capture the other nipple in his mouth through her garment.

“I said kneel, K’uk’ulkan,” her lips curled, and his brain tingled at the way his name sounded on her tongue.

He needed to taste her mouth again, but she stopped him with a finger to his lips. She pushed against his mouth, and he sucked her finger in swirling his tongue around it.

She shivered but repeated firmly, “Make your penance on your knees, my king,”

Her tone awoke something inky and tantalizing in his brain and moving on autopilot he found himself on his knees hypnotized.

Siren.

_________________________________________

He looked so beautiful there before her, his burnt cinnamon eyes looking up at her raptly, burning with dark desire. It excited her, all the moisture in her body going to one place in a marvelous way. She thought he should know about it.

Keeping her eyes on him she slipped her hand beneath the waistband of her shorts and slid over her slick folds, made so by his attentions moments before. She circled the sensitive bud of nerves sending sparks of pleasure though her body. She felt herself getting even more aroused and she increased the pressure of her fingers unable to stop the moan that reached her throat.

His eyes grew impossibly darker and desperate. She felt both weak and powerful trapped in his gaze. She felt like he should know about the mess he was making.

Slicking her fingers generously with her juices, she slid them from between her legs and held it before his lips.

“Say ah,” she said huskily, demonstrating by sticking her tongue out of her open mouth.

“Ah,” he rasped, he held out an expectant tongue, his lips parted eagerly.

She placed her fingers on his tongue and they quickly were sucked into his warm mouth. His tongue lapped up every drop like it was the most delectable nectar, groaning as he ran his tongue between her fingers, up and down lazily.

Her knees almost buckled.

Seeing him on his knees before her, his eyes closed in the bliss of tasting her was setting her brain on fire and her dark haunt began to thrash, desperate to be set free.

“Thank me,” she commanded him, suddenly wanting his obedience to assuage her earlier anger.

His eyes shot open and glued to hers. A mixture of emotions ran across his face, his gaze remaining intense. He popped her fingers out of his mouth with a pop.

“Thank you, Princess Shuri,” he purred, his eyes filled with the promise of delicious depravity.

She swore her womanhood was vibrating from the thrill of having him in this position with her right now.

“Take me now, K’uk’ulkan,” was the last thing she said before she was lifted and then laid on the blankets beneath them.

It did not take long for him to get rid of her clothes and toss them in some random corner over his shoulder. He was moving like a man possessed, his eyes wild with desire. Here, with the rain beating against the tent, somewhere no one would interrupt them this time, she gave herself permission to abandon restraint and reason.

When he sucked her bottom lip like it held the sweetest honey, she did not stifle her moans, instead she let him hear the way he affected her. He had to know what he did to her, and she wanted to know what she did to him.

Testing a theory, she slid her toes slowly down his calves until she found his ankles where his wings grew. Gently, she caressed them, taking note of how soft the feathers felt. The strangled cry that came from Namor’s lips made her even more moist and she was amused when he shot straight up in the air and stood, with his fists and jaw clenched.

“Princess,” he rasped in a way that made her shiver, “If you keep doing that, things will be over before they begin.”

She sat up on her elbows, watching him lick his lips as he admired her. She was happy that she had worn a lacy green bra and panty set. From the large bulge in Namor’s pants, it seems that he was happy with it too.

“Well,” she said, looking at him with hooded eyes, “I guess you are going to have to do better at controlling yourself, now won’t you, K’uk’ulkan?”

His eyes widened and then smoldered; the sexiest smirk she had ever witnessed curved his lips.

“Yes, Princess,” he nodded slowly and slithered over her body once more, his heat warming her more than any fire ever could.

He kissed her slowly, murmuring words that she could not understand into her mouth. She did not care. His mouth was doing some wicked things to her, and she never wanted him to stop.

His lips strung kisses along her jaw and down her neck, where he sucked at her pulse point, sending shivers down her spine. She sank both hands into his damp curls and smiled when he grunted against her collarbone.

She guided his head down to the valley of her breasts, arching into him, longing for him to give her some relief. She wrapped her legs around his waist so he would remain where was and purred in pleasure when his mouth closed over a lace covered nipple.

His teeth bit down gently, the sweet pain making her cry out and arch sharply.

Bast! He was driving her mad and she did not want to wait. She needed him inside her now.

She began to grind her womanhood into his core, but she was soon stilled by his large, strong hands at her hips, keeping her from moving.

“Patience, miiso,” he chuckled even as he pulled her bra off her body, not bothering with the clasps, exposing her pert breasts to the air for a moment before he licked the other nipple, twirling his tongue over and over before sucking in, gently at first but soon the pressure of the suction increased. Her cries filled the tent and he groaned, freeing one hip to bring his hand to the other breast to massage and tease her nipple with his calloused fingers.

The sensation was exquisite, her skin was on fire, between her legs was a flood, and she was saying words, but she was so certain they were incoherent to them both.

“So beautiful,” he whispered, kissing one breast then the next before with adoration before he trailed kisses down her abdomen slowly. When he got to her belly button, he poked his tongue in and out suggestively and she thought it a miracle that she did not combust.

His hands were leaving feather light strokes up and down her sides, eliciting shivers from her, all while he was taking the longest time to drag his tongue down to the place, she wanted to feel him the most.

 He was driving her mad. He knew what she wanted but he was making her wait. She did not have it in her to do so.

“Oh, my fucking Bast, Namor please!”

Suddenly he was pressing his forehead to hers, his eyes blazing, one hand gently gripping her throat.

“There is no Bast here, Princess,” he growled, his teeth bared in a way that was causing her soul to leave her body. She had never been so turned on in her life.

“Whenever you are with me, like this, there will be no other god’s name on your lips but mine. Do you understand me, itzia?”

She wanted to defy him, but she was so completely under his spell, all she could do was nod.

“Say my name, Princess. Say it,” he tightened his grip slightly and pressed his erection into her belly. Her eyes rolled to the back of her head as she sighed his name.

“K’uk’ulkan.”

“Say it again,” he commanded, and it was all she could do to not lose it right then and there.

“K’uk’ulkan!” she moaned, grinding into him, desperate for some friction that he had been denying her.

“Very good, Princess,” he said before giving her a punishing kiss. She deserved it. She was going to be very, very, bad.

In reward, with one hand still on her throat, he ran the other over her knee, up her thigh until he got to the thin waistband of her underwear. Slowly he slid his hand over the thatch of curls and spread her sopping folds causing her to cry out.

Finally!

Her hips raised off the blankets where they lay to find his touch, and ease her underwear off, guiding his fingers to the right spot, just where she ached the most.

She closed her eyes in bliss when he started to massage gentle circles over her most sensitive part, drawing whimpers from her lips.

His fingers moved up to grip her jaw and he turned her head to face him,

“Eyes on me, miiso,” he directed, his voice low and gravelly, his fingers increasing the pressure of his circular motions,

“Close your eyes and I stop,” he instructed, as he slid two fingers past her soaked entrance, while his thumb replaced them on her clit. Shuri knew she was moments away from falling over the edge.

“Tell me you understand, my princess,” he said in a way that made her even wetter.

“Yes, K’uk’ulkan, I understand,” she moaned loudly, writhing underneath him as his fingers worked her towards a climax.

“So good for me, so wet,” he praised her. It was too much. Before she knew it, her orgasm overtook her, sending her body into convulsions as the god king pumped his fingers in and out of her until she was spent, her eyes never leaving his.

Still looking at her with an intensity that could scorch the earth, he withdrew his fingers and said,

“You’ve made such a beautiful mess, Princess, do you want to see?” he arched a brow at her and butterflies wreaked havoc in her stomach.

His was so handsome it was devastating.

When she nodded, he brought his fingers up in between them, showing her how they glistened with her.

Echoing her actions earlier he put one soaked finger to her mouth for her to suck. She opened her mouth and licked his finger clean.

“One for you,” he grinned wickedly, when she finished and brought the other finger that had been inside her to his lips.

Never breaking eye contact, he drew his finger into his mouth and sucked lasciviously, moaning the entire time, licking his lips when he was done,

“And one for me,” he finished.

“Fuck,” she breathed. That was the sexiest thing she had ever witnessed in her young life, and she wanted to be mounted and possessed with no care for her health and safety. He could have all of her, in any way he wanted.

She grabbed the back of his neck and pulled him in for a kiss, groaning at the way his taste mingled with hers on his tongue. When they finally pulled apart for air he rasped in her ear,

“You taste so damn good, Princess.”

“K’uk’ulkan, please, please, I need you.”

She grabbed him and pulled him over body, grateful for her panther strength, until he was situated between her legs, and she wrapped her legs around his waist, gyrating against the bulge in his green shorts, making it slick with her.

She felt his body jerk in response and a strangled noise left him as his eyes rolled back in his head briefly.

“Princess,” he whispered roughly.

“Please, stop teasing me, K’ulk’ulkan,” she whined, gripping his hair, and bringing his body closer to her, she wanted to feel his skin on hers. Much to her chagrin he pulled way to look at her.

“Tell your god what it is that you want, and I will answer your prayers,” he smirked devilishly, his eyes were all fire and lust.

He was too confident, too in control. She wanted to shake him, rattle him, make his steady heart race, heat his blood the way he did to her.

She slid her fingers to the nape of his neck and gripped him tightly, holding his head in place and she gave him her most sultry of looks.

“What I want is for you to get out of those damn shorts and give me what I have been waiting for forever. I want you to slide every inch into me because I am so wet and aching and it is all your fault. I want you to drive into me until I am a sobbing mess.”

It pleased her to see his eyes widen at every request and his jaw slacken in shock.

She pulled him down slightly so she could pray her final prayer,

“K’uk’ulkan, I want you to fuck me. Fuck me so good that all I will ever want is you. Fuck me so hard that I forget my name but remember all of yours.”

_________________________________________

He was frozen.

The words coming from her lips were setting his brain on fire. How could a mouth so innocent and sweet, house such delightfully depraved expressions? The juxtaposition was making him feral.

When he regained control over his senses he blinked and looked down at the woman under him, skin as rich and brown as the best xocolatl in Talokan, smooth and glistening with sweat.

She looked like a dream.

Shaking his head, he leaned down to kiss her passionately, removing his belt, then he green shorts with one fluid motion.

“Hurry, K’uk’ulkan,” she pleaded, “Please, my king, I need you inside me, please.”

Her supplication turned his blood into molten lava. In answer, he sat on his haunches and was about to take himself into his hand, when instead she grabbed his length and began stroking him up and down, purring as she did. He bucked into her hand against his will.

“So heavy, so big, my king,” her voice spilled over his brain like the sweet syrup.

He would give her the stars, the planets, any galaxy she desired. If she asked, he would find a way to give it to her. She was perfect, perfectly crafted by Chaac himself for him, his only equal on this planet.

He nearly lost all brain function when Shuri, scooted down to bring her dripping center closer to his, rubbing the head of him against her slick folds coating him generously, her eyes fixed on his face when he looked up.

“You were right, I did make a mess. Who knew I was such a nasty girl,” the princess bit her lip as she continued her motions. Chaac above!

She was a witch. There was no other explanation for her power over him. He was caught in whatever enchantment she was casting. And he did not want it to end.

“I want you to fill me, K’uk’ulkan. All of me. I want every single inch of you, all of it is mine. Every last drop of you, I want it inside of me, when the time comes. Every single one.”

She moved her hips seductively and he knew then he would slay any person who tried to take her away from him. She was his and there was no going back.

Without warning she lined him up with her entrance and slid him into her tight, wet warmth.

He threw his head back at the pleasure overtaking him, but her voice brought him back to earth, her hand still wrapped around the rest of his member halting him from completing entrance.

“Every single drop, every single delicious noise that falls from your lips, all of it belongs to me. You belong to me. Do you understand, K’uk’ulkan?” she arched a brow, and he was all too eager to agree.

“Yes, in yakunaj,” he nodded, swallowing hard. This was torture.

“Are you ready to answer my prayers, mighty Feather Serpent god?” she smiled wickedly, and the world disappeared. All that mattered was there in his arms.

“I will answer every prayer that ever leaves your lips until the end of time, my goddess,” he promised with all the passion in his soul, eager to enter her, feeling her clench around the tip was causing his vision to blur.

She released him with a final command.

“Make me scream, K’uk’ulkan.”

He was about to bury himself so deep inside her, Thor himself would not be able to pull him out.

Gripping her hips, he slid himself into her to the hilt watching her mouth open in a gasp, her eyes glazing over in pleasure.

He leaned over to capture the moans coming from her before he started moving. When she started gyrating her hips impatiently, he knew he couldn’t hold off much longer. He was about to come undone.

He began to move, and he would swear to Chaac that he meant to take his time and be gentle. But the princess was saying the filthiest, dirtiest things and it was driving him wild.

Before he could stop himself, he was driving into her at a punishing pace, her cries doing little to help him regain any type of control.

She was everything. Everything he had prayed for, everything he thought would never be blessed with. But here she was, writhing underneath him, moaning his name, begging him to fuck her senseless.

Did she know what she was doing to him?

“Shuri,” he grunted, again and again, her name becoming his favorite prayer. She was his goddess, his religion and this was heaven.

“Don’t stop, please, K’uk’ulkan, please!” she reached out for him, sliding her hands over his chest, her fingers leaving fire wherever she touched.

“Tell me you are mine, Shuri. Tell me you belong to me,” he demanded, pleaded. He needed to hear it. He could not let her go this time. Not again.

“I am yours, K’uk’ulkan, only yours,” she cried out and he increased the intensity of his strokes in and out of her, the sound of their flesh slapping as their bodies collided competed with the thunder outside the tent.

He felt his release on the horizon and knew that he needed her to reach her peak first. Bringing his hand between their bodies, he rubbed her sensitive bud and watched as her body lifted in a sharp arch, her breasts bouncing with the movement, and he felt himself grow even harder.

“Don’t stop,” she begged, her climax close, “don’t stop, don’t stop, please don’t stooooooo-uhhh—uuhhhh,” she bucked and shooked as waves of pleasure took over and he felt her clench tightly around him. It was all her could do to not break right then and there.

With the last bit of self-control he had left, he fucked her through it, leaning forward to kiss her and capture her whimpers at the aftershocks.

Her hands came around his sides and slid over his back and she kissed the side of his neck. His pace became unsteady as he felt her nails scrape down his back. He was almost there.

“In k’aatech, Shuri,” he gritted into her ear, over and over, “In k’aatech, in yakunaj. In this life and any life after this one. I will find you and make you happy. You are mine. Only mine.”

He punctuated each declaration with a long, hard thrust, drowning in the staccato cries coming from the goddess in his arms.

The familiar sensation of a million electrical pleasure charges crawling up his body spelled his imminent release.

Sensing his end, Shuri licked the tip of his pointed ear, and he nearly went blind.

Kissing his jaw, she ran her fingers into his hair, scratching his scalp in the way that he loved. She pressed her lips down his neck then up again until she reached his ear, sending shivers down his spine.

In his ear she whispered, “Come for me, K’uk’ulkan.”

He fell apart.

As he spilled his essence into her, two things became true.

One, he was hopelessly and irrevocably in love with this goddess, panther Princess from Wakanda.

And two, he would not burn the world for as long as she was in it.

____________________________________

"That was... very disturbing," N'Jadaka mumbled to no one, an unblinking stare fixed on the pink and purple haze of the horizon.

"Bast, I promise, I will never look down at Baby Panther again, please just take away my eyes. I beg," he wrapped his arms around himself and rocked, thoroughly traumatized.

"While you're at it," he said into the void, " you can take my memory too. I don't have many good ones any way. I don't need it. Please!"

Somewhere above him, he swears he hears a deep purr of a chuckle.

Chapter Text

The palace was a bustle of activity the days leading up to the days of the joint council meeting. All the staff were making sure that the Talokanil accommodations were just right as per the specifications of the Queen Mother and Princess. While the leaders of the respective nations were already in agreement on the importance of the alliance, they had enough respect for their people to know that it was important for them to have some sense of participation in the process.

At the end of the day, neither leader wished to rule through fear or intimidation. All power was given by the people and earned through consistent service and sacrifice and could be snatched if the people believed they were not acting in their collective best interests. 

As the last of her handmaidens left her room after getting her dressed for the first day of the joint council meeting, the queen stood in front of a long, ornate mirror and gave last glimpses of her carefully chosen attire today.

As always, on top of her head she wore a deep purple isichola that matched her off shoulder dress, with a gold embellished collar that descended into a column from her throat down to her chest, where it wrapped itself around her just above her bust. The rest of the gown fell from chest to floor, cinching at the waist and then flaring into a flowy, gently pleated skirt that moved like water when she walked. Both her crown and gown were overlayed with subtle patterns of a panther outlined with gold, purple and jade green reflective thread, a discreet nod to the unification with Talokan.

She was a about to head out the door when Griot’s voice came from her kimoyo beads.

“Queen Mother, there is an urgent matter that you must be made aware of. I tried to bring it to the Panther’s attention, but I have been muted each time.”

Ramonda checked the time and sighed. The Talokanil delegation would be arriving at any minute, and she would be damned if she would be a disgrace of a host and not be there to greet them on arrival.

“Griot, is this pertaining to the council meeting that is about to begin in five minutes?”

“No, Queen Ramonda but-,”

“Well,” she interrupted, “Then whatever it is, it will just have to wait until after the meeting. Set a reminder for both myself and Shuri.”

“Yes, Queen Mother,” the AI responded.

“Thank you,” she concluded the conversation and left her suite making her way to the elevators.

When the lift doors opened, she was staring straight into the eyes of her daughter. She nodded approvingly at the princess’ attire. The long phthalo shift dress flattered her gentle curves and the halter neckline added the characteristic flair of her daughter’s fashion sense, with alternating gold and purple geometric triangular patterns going from the neckline down to her chest. Her only accessories were her kimoyo beads and the asymmetrical gold necklace that housed the princess’ panther suit.

“Hello, Mother,” Shuri’s face broke into a wide grin.

She seemed to smile a lot more lately and the queen was more than happy to see her daughter in better spirits. If she had to guess, she would say that the revelation that she was an aunt had done the trick to dispelling the sour mood the princess had been in the weeks before.

“Good morning, daughter,” the queen responded warmly. “Are you ready for the meeting today among us old, traditional folk?” she teased.

“Not all of you are old,” Shuri countered as the elevator doors closed on them. The queen smiled but Shuri continued, folding her arms.

“Some of you are ancient.”

She hazarded a glance at the queen, who tutted when she picked up on the barb from her daughter and gave her a light backhand to her toned, exposed arms that were particularly shiny today; a feature she had passed down to her.

Shuri’s mischievous laughter filled the mirrored elevator and the queen noted to herself how much she had missed the sound. When she wagged a finger at the princess, she couldn’t help but be struck at how much she must look like her own mother right now.

“Ever the comedian, Shuri. Please keep your outstanding humor to yourself today. We do not need any more … diplomatic incidents between us and the Talokanil. This is too important.”

Her daughter’s mirth subsided only a little.

“I will be on my best behavior mother, as always,” Shuri smirked.

The queen shook her head and turned to face her daughter.

“I am serious Shuri, I cannot have you being rude to you-know-who the way you were in the lab the other day,” Ramonda warned.

Her daughter was impulsive and impetuous at times, and while she never wanted her to be dimmed, she did need her to have a firm grip on her self-control for the next few days.

“I will be nothing but kind and polite to he who shall not be named mother,” her daughter promised, but something about the twinkle in her eye made her worried that Shuri was planning to be anything but.

She narrowed her eyes at her only child and noticed that she seemed a bit… different today.

“Are you wearing makeup?”

“Only a little, mother, it is no big deal,” the princess started to fuse with her kimoyo beads, averting her eyes.

The queen gave her daughter a once over and hummed. The princess’ makeup was indeed subtle, but there was an extra glow that seemed to shine through. The elevator doors opened before she could think any more of it.

She reached out and squeezed Shuri’s hand.

“Come child,” she said as she followed an ever-present Ayo through the heavy doors of the throne room where her council were waiting.

They all rose as she walked towards the throne, each nodding in acknowledgement, tension clearly read on their faces. When she got to the throne, she crossed her arms over her chest, and they all returned the gesture. Shuri took her place to her right of the throne, in a special throne-like seat of her own, styled after a panther, with the claws making the base.

“The Talokan delegation has arrived and will be entering the throne room shortly,” Griot announced.

She looked to her left where the Jabari sat, and he shot her a small reassuring smile and nod. It comforted her a bit and she prayed to Bast, the ancestors, heck even Hanuman, that the rest of the members of her council remain at least polite to their visitors and not sabotage all that she and K’uk’ulkan had been working towards.

The Queen’s Guard all clanged their spears on the ground as the doors of the throne room opened to the council from Talokan. There were seven of them all dressed in varying shades of brown, white and tans, accessorized with pearls and varying shells of many colors.

The Dora showed them to their places in seats on either side of the semi-circle that had a specially crafted seat for the god-king as the focal point. He followed them, dressed in a dramatic gold plumed head piece, fashioned in the face of a serpent with ruby and jade inlaid into the eyes and matching pauldrons at his shoulders from which hung a long red and white patterned cloak. Around his waist was his knee length loincloth over his customary green shorts.

The men on his council were fully dressed so at least now she knew that Namor and his general’s habit of going bare chested was indeed a deliberate choice.  The other general behind him wore an impressive orange and white headdress, with a matching collar and skirt over which hung a green loincloth, similar to the one her king and fellow general were sporting. Unlike the other two men, her face wore a ferocious expression as she canvased the entire room, as if she expected threat at every turn.

Standing to greet the party she said,

“Wakanda welcomes you and your council, King K’uk’ulkan,” Ramonda opened her arms in welcome as the king from Talokan approached her. He nodded at Shuri as he approached,

“Black Panther,” he acknowledged.

“K’uk’ulkan,” the princess nodded in return, much to the relief of the queen.

When the ocean king drew nearer, she moved towards him and touched her forehead to his briefly as became their custom. She heard a small gasp from her daughter to her right and some murmurs from her council.

Bast be merciful.

“We are honored to be in Wakanda once more, under much better circumstances this time. I am hoping that all of us in this room are dedicated to being the examples of progress and reconciliation that our nations need.”

Queen Ramonda smiled at the cleverness of the king and decided to join in on his subtle challenge to anyone who had intentions of being disruptive.

“I am sure that everyone in this room has grown wary of unnecessary bloodshed and feels that our people deserve peace and safety. No doubt, each of us carries in our heart, the best interest of the ones who have entrusted us to make decisions on their behalf. We do not take that responsibility lightly. And we understand that with it, there is no space for personal ambition,” she finished, throwing a quick glance over the king’s shoulder at M’Kathu, who shifted uncomfortably in his seat.

Namor nodded in approval and walked back to his seat among his council, directly opposite of her. When he was settled, she nodded to Ayo, who gave an indiscernible signal to the Dora at the doors. They opened and a procession of scientists entered and stood before the Talokanil, each with an embellished black box that they opened in front of the guests in unison.

“As a gesture of our gratitude for joining us on land, we wanted to present to you the best technology we have to offer, to help make your stay while here more comfortable.”

Next to her, Shuri stood to explain, using her kimoyo beads to provide a tutorial on the contents of the gift boxes and it’s uses.

“I have designed translators, as you can see here that you place behind your ear. It is synced to the kimoyo beads created for you as well as these rebreathers that will allow you to eat with us on land without having to worry about finding water immediately.”

The queen nodded as her daughter spoke, taking note of the curious sounds that the members of the Talokanil council were making to each other, assessing the offerings of the Wakanda. She was heartened to see the nods of approval that were coming from a few of the younger council members. The box given to the king did not contain a rebreather since he needed none. Instead, it held a necklace of gold and polished vibranium, each bead carved into the head of a snake.

He did not seem to notice however, since his eyes were trained intently on the princess, who was demonstrating the functionality of each device. The intensity of his gaze worried the queen that perhaps the hostility between the two would be a problem but the more she observed him the less adversarial his gaze appeared but instead rather… reverent?

She made note to ask her daughter how their talk after their exchange in the lab went, when she had asked her to escort him to the river. Presently, however, she had bigger fish to fry.

At the end of Shuri’s presentation she clapped her hands and called the meeting into session. Namor gave her a reassuring nod and began his address to the Wakandan council to kick off the first of what she hoped were many joint efforts to come.

 _____________________________________________

After the meeting adjourned, Shuri could not have fled the throne room fast enough. It had begun civilly at first, but soon descended in a strange brand of chaos that she was not equipped to quell.

M’Kathu underestimated the ability of Namor to understand Xhosa and his superhuman hearing, so the insults that he was mumbling quietly under his breath became a point of contention as Namor was not in a mood to let an affront to his people go unanswered.

His petulance was quickly extinguished by the fearsome looks and deadly calm words of the feathered serpent who swiftly reminded him that his resistance to peaceful negotiations were directly opposite of the desires of the queen and the best interest of Wakanda, and that such an open act of defiance against the wishes of a queen for a nation would have the stench of treason in Talokan.

M'Baku could barely contain a laugh behind his large hand at the sight of a flustered M’Kathu balking at the insinuation and quiet threat of K’uk’ulkan. He had looked around the room for help and support, but no one would meet his eye, except the queen whose stony expression told him that she very much shared the sentiments of the god-king.

When the Border Tribe elder had seen that he was outnumbered in his outrage, he sat back in his chair, deflated, and mumbled his insincere apologies to Namor, who let him know with a terrifying smile, that all mistakes can be forgiven… once.

Shuri had squirmed in her chair, instantly aroused.

For the rest of the meeting, she was barely attentive, her mind was back in the tent, by the riverside. Flashbacks of that glorious night together when they got to enjoy each other three times under the sound of the rain took her away from the arguments that would spark between various council members from either nation.

She knew she should care more but she couldn’t. Not when he was there, just a few feet away. But he might as well have been across the Atlantic. She was itching to touch him, smell him, taste him again. If they were alone, she would have made him take her right there on her mother’s throne.

During the first half of the meeting, she had tried her best not to stare at him for too long. They had not been able to see each other since he had left her by the river before dawn, both being occupied with the preparations for this very meeting. So being in the same room with him made her skin tingle with anticipation.

He had taken more care than usual in his grooming and his hair was perfectly styled, his black waves looking soft and full. She just wanted to bury her fingers in it and tug his head back so she could feast on his strong neck and lick the salt off his beautiful ochre skin. His facial hair was so perfectly lined to frame his face that his beauty made her mouth water.

She needed to get him alone.

When they broke for lunch, she almost used her panther speed to get to his side, but her mother had beaten her to it, leading him to her gardens to have a meal with her so they could go over the documents that both councils had submitted with their concerns and requests.

Annoyed, she had gone to the lab to continue working on an updated panther suit that would allow her to spend more time underwater, if he ever invited her back to Talokan, seeing that was the only way she would ever be able to be alone with him freely.

The second half of the meeting was even more turbulent after the lunch break when the royal heads returned with their revised documents. The two councils had grown more confident and comfortable, which meant they were more vocal in their disagreements with the terms that were being presented.

Shuri had neither the attitude nor temperament for the minutiae of this part of diplomacy. Protect each other’s borders, keep each other’s secrets. It should be that simple. All the other stuff was only prolonging the process and making her headache grow more aggressive.

Entering her room she flopped onto her bed, her mood sour. She had tried all throughout the day to get Namor’s attention, but to no avail. Every moment their eyes met was interrupted by someone requesting his input or asking him a question. Each time earning an eye roll from her. Twice her mother caught her and shot her a sharp side eye, nonverbally chiding her with the firm set of her lips.

Shuri buried her face in her pillow and groaned. There were two hours before they had to meet for a joint dinner, and she wanted to see if she could get some time with Namor before they had to go back to being political rivals in front of everyone else.

On her kimoyo beads she ignored the notifications from Griot and sent a message to Namor before she lost her nerve. She had named him The B.o.B in her beads, just to be extra cautious and slightly naughty. Anyone who happened to catch a stray glance by chance would just think she was speaking to someone named Bob. Only she knew that B.o.B stood for Breaker of Backs.

Her heart beat increased as she typed quickly and hit send.

S: I miss you 😢

Shuri threw her beads on her bed and cringed. Burying her face in her hands, she groaned. She felt like she came off desperate but… in all honesty, she was. She was used to being the one sought after, never had she found herself craving, yearning for another the way she did for Namor, and she bore great shame over it. But she couldn’t help herself. He had shifted her world off its axis, and she was spinning wildly. She needed him. Her beads chirped as a message came in.

The B.o.B: Already? We just saw each other, itzia.

Bast damn that infernal garden snake!  She rolled her eyes and replied :

S: That’s not what I mean and you know it. 😠

His response came in immediately.

The B.o.B : What do you mean then, Princess ?

Shuri paused. She should play coy as payback for him teasing her like this, but it felt like ages since she had him all to herself and she wanted to feel his intensity and desire aimed at her once more. It was addictive, the way he wanted her. When he made love to her, she almost believed him when he called her a goddess. She felt otherworldly, divine, worthy of his worship. It was damn near transcendent. She needed more. She needed him

Throwing caution to the wind she decided to cut to the chase and prayed he followed suit.

S: It’s been too many days since I’ve kissed you🙈

Holding her breath, she waited to see what he had to say. If he rejected her, she would be so mortified. Her beads lit up with a message alert.

The B.o.B : Ah, I understand now. I miss you too, in yakunaj .

For some reason, his response annoyed her.  Walking into her bathroom she began to fill her tub with water. She felt an urge for a bath. It was her second one today. Being submerged in aromatic water always improved her mood lately. She shot him a text before she began disrobing.

S: You could have fooled me. You spent so much time with your girlfriend the queen you barely spared me a glance 🥺

The B.o.B :  Itzia, I am sorry. These meetings are important for both our nations. We both promised to not let our private lives distract us from what we need to do for our people.

S: I know, I know. I don’t need a lecture, Namor. I just want you to myself for a few minutes, that’s all.

The B.o.B.: Hmmm. How badly do you want me to yourself, itzia?

S: So bad, K’uk’ulkan, so very bad.

The B.o.B.: I could tell. I want you badly as well, in yakunaj.

She slid in the hot water that she scented with vanilla and bergamot oils. It was like her body breathed a sigh of relief. She ran her hand over her skin under the water and put the beads on voice-to-text mode.

S: Hmmph. A very likely story indeed. Wait… what do you mean you could tell?

The B.o.B.: I am attuned to your heartbeat, Princess. The sound of it is my favorite song. Also, I could smell how badly you wanted me.

S: Very presumptuous of you to think my arousal was meant for you?

The B.o.B.: Do not toy with me, Shuri. This alliance will be over if I find out you belong to another. I vow this to you: I will divorce his limbs from his body and his heart from his chest!

S: Bast take charge🙄 you are the most jealous lover I have ever known.

The B.o.B.: Therein lies the problem.

S: What problem?

The B.o.B.: You should not have known any lover but me. They were all inferior.

S: I’m not convinced. Prove it.

The B.o.B.: You enjoy games, Princess…

S: Why, yes. Yes, I do… Do you want to play with me…

The B.o.B.: Shuri…

S: … The way I’m playing with myself ?…

The B.o.B.: Show me. Now.

No sooner than the message came in did a call from him come through.

Intense, hungry eyes bore into hers and then roamed over her naked body submerged in the water. 

“Are you alone, itzia ?”

“I am,” she whispered, nodding, already excited at the sight of him. She could see the clench of his jaw and felt her mouth water. She wanted to lick just under the curve of it and feel his perfectly trimmed beard tickle her nose. 

She set his voice to come through her ear beads. The rumble of it had become such a potent aphrodisiac for her, his mere words could take her to the edge.  

“Good,” he smirked. “I need you to listen to your god, my Princess. I want you to touch your beautiful body slowly for me.”

Her nipples stiffened and she felt that familiar warmth spread to her core at the growl of his words. Could a siren hypnotize without actually singing? She wondered. 

There were no thoughts in her head except his commands.

With both hands free, eyes locked with his projected in the screen above her, she trailed her fingers slowly down her neck, in time with the music that she had put to play softly in the bathroom before getting into the tub.

She bit her lip and gazed at him through her lashes when she heard him groan as she got to her breasts. It satisfied her to know that he was just as affected by her as she was by him. Without waiting for further instruction, she arched into her hands and teased her nipples, throwing her head back and moaning, eyes closed, imagining his hands there instead.

“So beautiful, a goddess among women,” he crooned, his eyes dark with desire.

One hand stayed on her breast while the other journeyed down her torso slowly, she gyrated her hips deliberately as she slid her fingers down below her belly button towards the sensitive bundle of nerves between her thighs. She opened her eyes sultrily at the sound of his growl.

“Itzia, show me how you pleasure yourself,” he demanded.

Quirking a brow at the god-king, she admonished him, “Only if you ask nicely like I showed you.”

He smiled menacingly at her smirk,

“Pretty please, my pretty Princess, show me how you touch yourself in my absence,” he obliged, eyes narrowed.

The look on his face made it very clear that she would pay for her cheekiness as soon as he got her alone. Her body shivered with anticipation, and she felt herself grow slick.

“Talk to me, K’uk’ulkan,” she sighed, moving her hips and her fingers in circular motions.

“I need to taste you again, in yakunaj . I need you to make my face your throne.”

“Bast.”

Shuri’s brain was on fire and her movements grew more urgent.

“What did I say about calling another god’s name while you are with me like this, Shuri?”

Her eyes widened and she smiled coquettishly, batting her lashes, “I am sorry, K’uk’ulkan.”

“You will be, Princess,” his lips twisted into a wolfish grin just before the call ended suddenly and left her staring at the ceiling.

Shuri blinked, her mind trying to catch up with what just happened.

Did he just hang up on me?

Shuri sat up in the tub and reached for her kimoyo beads, wet hands and all. 

S: Did you just hang up on me??!!!!🤬

When five minutes went by without a reply, felonious thoughts overtook Shuri’s mind. Usually she enjoyed his teasing but she was so on edge and longing for some relief from him that her irritation was now a full blown tantrum. 

He was going to pay. 

She tried to finish what they had started earlier but it was no use. She was angry and couldn’t concentrate enough to get the job done, thoughts and fantasies of revenge intruding on any progress she made. 

Grudgingly, she finished her bath when the water grew tepid and decided to spend some time engaging in some skin care while singing along to the R&B playlist Riri had made for her, to distract herself. 

By the time she was done, her bathroom was pleasantly performed with the scent of Shea butter, tuberose and vanilla. Her curls looked plump and defined with a healthy sheen that complimented the dewy glow of her face. The rest of her body glistened after being exfoliated, buffed, polished and moisturized with  customized fragrant whipped body butter. 

Her complexion was bright and even, skin the most delicious dark brown and she was intent on making his mouth water. 

Checking the time she saw that she had thirty minutes before dinner and she wanted to give Namor a chance to suffer every time he laid eyes on her. She walked into her adjoining closet and selected a chocolate two piece skirt set. 

The soft fabric of the high necked, long sleeved crop top fit her like a second skin, accentuating the curve of her breasts. The high waisted skirt found every single curve and clung to it for dear life, the two severe slits at the front stopped a few inches below her hip bone. 

She inspected herself and decided to finish the look with gold sandals that tied up to her calves and some gold rings on her fingers. 

Her beads lit up with a message. 

The B.o.B.: My apologies, in yakunaj. A call from the Queen interrupted ours. I would never abandon you on purpose.  

Shuri rolled her eyes. Typical. A Wakandan mother senses her daughter having fun from afar and finds a way to cut it short. This was the second time the queen had interrupted their intimate time. It must be a super power at this point. 

S: Why didn’t you just ignore her call? 

The B.o.B.: Itzia, please. I am a guest in the home of my new ally. She gifted me this communication device. How would it look if I ignored her attempts at contacting me? 

S: I don’t care. 🙄

The B.o.B.: In yakunaj, you consumed my thoughts the entire time. I could think of nothing but you. 

S: Liar. 😒

The B.o.B.: I would only lie to you if the lie was the only way to save your life. This is not the case. 

S: I don’t care, Namor. I’m mad at you. 

The explanation did nothing to abate her annoyance and she had already chosen the path of a menace. She did not care who was to blame, he was going to pay. 

The B.o.B.: Let me fix that. 

Fuck.  

Bast damn him. It was so ridiculous how he could arouse her with the simplest of phrases and it annoyed her so much in this moment. 

Oh, how he would pay. 

S: No. You’re not allowed to lay a single finger on me tonight. 😌 

The B.o.B.: Not even when you beg me to? 

S: 🤨 when? 

The B.o.B.: When. 

He was so cocky! She hated how much it turned her on. Unfortunately for him, she was cocky too. Too cocky to be bested. 

S: There will never a beg leave my throat. 

The B.o.B.: Speaking of your throat… 

S: Bye! 🙄🙅🏾‍♀️

The B.o.B.: I look forward to seeing you at dinner, my Princess. In k’aatech. 

She put on her beads, walked into her room and stood in front of her bed. 

Two could play this game, she thought. She could up the ante and make him beg her to put his hands on her. Yes. Yes she liked the idea of turning him into a whimpering beggar very much.

Taking her time, she removed her matching green bra and panty set from underneath her outfit and laid them on the bed. With her kimoyo beads she took a picture before she sat down. 

“Griot, is K’uk’ulkan in the dining hall yet?”

“He is on his way in the elevator, Princess.” 

“Thank you.”

Since that insufferable sea pigeon liked to sniff the air for signs of arousal she would give him something to do. 

She spread her legs and slipped a hand through a slit in her skirt to her center. She replayed the first half of their interrupted bath time, rubbing in slow circles, imagining it was Namor’s fingers touching her down there instead of hers. 

She did this for a couple more minutes then stood to leave her room and head to the elevators, estimating that  Namor would be seated when she got to the dining hall. She sent the picture of her underwear laid out on the bed that she had just taken. 

She smirked when his response came in. 

The B.o.B.:  Itzia, WHAT IS THIS?!

S: It's what I’m NOT wearing right now. 

She walked through the arched doors of the dining hall towards the end of the table where Namor sat. 

His stare was burning holes into her, his eyes drinking her in. She saw his fist clenched and it made her hips swing a bit more as she sauntered to her seat opposite him, a generous glimpse of thigh flashing from the high slits. 

When she finally looked at him as she sat, the intensity of his gaze knocked the wind out of her and she clutched the base of her throat 

She felt herself grow wet watching him lick his lips when his eyes lowered to her nipples straining the tight fabric of her top.

She thanked Bast for her stubbornness because without it  she would not have stood a chance against this winged serpent who was burning holes into her skin with his eyes. 

When she finally sat across from him at the narrow table used for these kind of less formal political dinners, she greeted her mother who sat at the head of the table and nodded at M’Baku before letting her eyes fall to the god- king before her, who had a dangerous grip on the goblet in his hand. 

She did a deliberately poor job of hiding her smirk. He squinted, considering her expression and then suddenly his face relaxed and he titled his head slightly, a serene look came across his face. Shuri couldn’t explain why his sudden calm chilled her bones.

Her mother and Namor both took turns blessing their meal and encouraging their citizens to eat and be merry. From the corner came the soft sounds of live music from the band that was hired to add to the atmosphere. 

Shuri looked down the table and saw everyone tucking heartily into the large platters of food brought in from the Royal kitchen. She was pleased that the Talokanil sported their new rebreathers that freed their faces temporarily, allowing them to enjoy food on the surface.The approving nods and wide eyes of the underwater citizens warmed Shuri’s heart as they sampled Wakandan cuisine and conversed animatedly with each other, commenting on the dishes with each other.

Across from her Namor and her mother were locked in a conversation of their own, in more hushed tones. It took every ounce of self control in her body to not roll her eyes, her earlier irritation returning full force. It was not that she was jealous of her mother, she was irritated that she kept hogging Namor’s attention, like he couldn’t possibly want to speak to someone else but her all the time. 

Perhaps, more forcefully than she should have, she stabbed her table knife into a large piece of steamed fish on the platter to her left. She suddenly became aware of herself sliding closer to the table and she almost yelped in shock until she caught the flash of a meaningful glance from Namor, his expression still impassive. 

She did not need to look under the table to know that he had hooked his foot under the lip of her seat and was using it to drag her closer, stopping just when her ribcage brushed against the edge of the table. 

Without a halt in his conversation with the queen, his sandalled foot cut between hers, a gentle kick nudging her legs apart under the table. Her eyes widened and her breath hitched. What was he doing?

A shiver caused her to jerk suddenly in her seat, shaking the glassware on their end of the table and causing her mother and Namor to halt their conversation and stare at her curiously. 

“Shuri, are you alright?”, the Queen inquired, brows drawn together with concern.

The feather light touch, emphasis on the feather, that had caused her initial jolt was trailing slowly up the sensitive skin of her ankles to her calves, stroking up and down and causing a barely perceptible breeze. 

“Yes, Panther, is something the matter?”, the sea king’s brows raised, his face the picture of innocence as he addressed Shuri from across the table. 

She wanted to throttle him. 

He continued to let his wings dance gently on her skin. She regretted not cutting them all off. 

Clearing her throat and doing her best to regain her composure, she look at her mother and responded with less certainty than she liked,

“Yes, mother, I am fine. My kimoyo beads vibrated and startled me, that's all.”

Ramonda’s eyes narrowed in suspicion, no doubt noticing the tension in Shuri’s body as she tried not to  moan at Namor’s wings inching seductively up past her knee.

“Are you sure, child?”

“Yes, mother, I said I am fine. I just haven’t been getting much sleep so I am a little on edge.”

The Queen Mother hummed, unconvinced but she reluctantly conceded. 

“Very well, ensure that you get some rest tonight. Here,” the queen grabbed a pitcher and poured into Shuri’s goblet, “have some wine. It should help you later.”

“Thank you, mama,” Shuri reached for the wine and took a long sip, doing her best not to choke as Namor’s feather’s brushed the inside of her thighs. 

She dared to look up from the rim of her cup to find him staring at her with such unfiltered hunger that she almost forgot how to swallow. Moisture pooled below her waist as he moved the tips of his wings in figure eight patterns on her skin, his expression returning neutral. There was a pulse between her legs that she was powerless to stop and it only grew stronger as he inched closer and closer to her core.

Was he really doing this? Here?!

He had resumed his conversation with the Queen, when he abruptly stopped mid sentence and she saw his chest rise as he took a deep breath and closed his eyes as if in bliss. 

“My apologies, Queen Ramonda but something here smells divine,” on his last words, he looked directly at Shuri and she gulped, feeling herself grow wetter. 

She had gravely underestimated her opponent. 

Her mother laughed and motioned towards the variety of foods before them.

“Don’t let me stop you, K’uk’ulkan. Eat! Eat to your heart’s content!”

Without taking his eyes off Shuri, a hint of a smirk touched his lips,

“Oh, I most certainly plan to do just that.”

She tried to still her trembling hand reaching for the wine again. She did not trust herself to speak. His wings were just a few inches away from where she was aching and she cursed this man to the deepest parts of the underworld. 

She could feel herself grow slick and she tried to busy herself the fish she had placed on her plate. Without warning the tip of a wing fluttered against the sensitive bud between her spread thighs and she let out a small moan before clamping her mouth shut and looking around nervously at who might have heard her.

She got curious glances from M’Baku and Namora. She dared not look at her mother. 

“Does the fish please you, Panther? I will try that first.” 

Shuri nodded dumbly and continued chewing, 

“It’s so good,” she mumbled to her mother, rolling her eyes to sell it. 

The queen seemed to relax her shrewd gaze and smiled. 

“I’m glad to see your appetite has returned, daughter. I was starting to worry that you had returned to your bad eating habits. You need to keep your strength up now that you are our Protector.”

Shuri was mortified. She was being lectured on her poor nutritional practices by her mother, while the shameless god- king opposite her was using his wings to arouse her through her skirt, the thin, clingy fabric her only protection, since she had the brilliant idea to leave her underwear in her room. 

Shuri cursed all the life choices that led her to this moment in time. 

The subject of her ire and arousal had popped a piece of fish in his mouth, all while his wings were doing magical things to her dripping center. She had no idea if he could feel her wetness through her skirt, although she grew suspicious that he could when he dramatically rolled his eyes and groaned, almost vulgarly. 

It almost drove her over the edge.

His eyes opened lazily to Shuri’s and her heart fluttered at the dazzling smile that spread across his face as he licked his lips. 

“Please relay my compliments to the ones who prepared this meal. It is absolutely heavenly. I am certain I could eat here forever.” His wing tapped on her front pointedly at “here”. 

Shuri nearly choked. 

M’Baku’s strong hands came down in heavy slaps on her back, attempting to help end her coughing fit. 

“Hunuman’s mercy. You win a battle against a literal god king, only to lose one to a fish bone?”

The queen and Namora both tried to stifle a laugh at the same time. Much to her relief, Namor ceased his caresses to allow her to compose herself. 

“I can’t blame you, Panther,” Namor said innocently, busying himself with the rest of his fish, “ I am having a hard time controlling myself too, this tastes so good. If it weren’t for the presence of others, I would have devoured it already.”

Shuri couldn’t damn him enough. Her face was impossibly hot and she knew that her nipples were visibly erect through her blouse. For the second time she regretted not keeping her underwear. 

She gave Namor a tight, polite smile in response, knowing what she would see if she met his eyes. 

The rest of the dinner went by in a blur. Between the palm wine and the desire coursing through her veins, Shuri was having a hard time concentrating on the ongoing conversations for too long. Each time she tried to engage, her mind would drift to a memory or fantasy, each one starring Namor and one of his many nimble and skillful appendages. 

_____________________________________

When the table had been cleared and more wine and fruit and desserts were brought out, the band began playing  more lively tunes. M’Baku, spurred by Namora’s teasing and generous helpings of spirits, got up and pulled the Merchant Tribe elder onto the dance floor. 

Encouraged by the Jabari’s bombastic requests for the rest of the council to join, many of the elders and the Talokanil council made their way to the dancefloor, some swaying more from wine than the music. 

Namor’s large general walked over to his king and whispered something in his ear in their native tongue. She surmised that Namor’s response made the general a bit bashful, which was amusing to see on such an intimidating man, but at the god-king’s nod, Attuma made a beeline for the doors of the dining room with impressive speed, leaving his leader chuckling at the sight. 

Without warning the kimoyo beads of the Queen, Namor and Shuri began to blink red, the word “Urgent” flashing discreetly for the wearer. The trio looked at each other at the same time with matching grim expressions. 

“To the balcony,” the Queen told the Panther and the Serpent and they followed her out the arched doors, leaving their oblivious councils to their merriment. 

Pangs of guilt gnawed at Shuri. She had been ignoring Griot’s messages and for their sakes she hoped it wasn’t to their detriment. Whatever it was had to be grave if he included Namor in the communication. It could only mean one thing; there was a threat to both Talokan and Wakanda. 

Once they were sufficiently away from the sound of the music, Shuri cloaked them in a soundproof shield  so no one could see or hear them, should they wander drunkenly for some fresh air.

Queen Ramonda spoke first.

“Griot, can you tell me why you alerted all three of us?”

“My apologies, Queen Mother. There is a situation that I have been monitoring for a while and I believe it has gotten to a point where it can no longer be ignored.” The AI’s voice came over the beads. 

Shuri gulped as she saw Namor’s entire body grow tense, his fists clenched at his sides. 

“What is going on, Griot?” she asked, nervous because she knew that whatever the issue, it was not good. Not good at all. She just prayed it was nothing that would jeopardize the alliance, as fragile as it was. 

“ Since the battle with Thanos, I have kept watch over any possible irregular aerospace activity. There was an unauthorized surveillance satellite launched three months ago. It was programmed to monitor activity in and out of Wakanda.” 

Three pairs of eyes shot up and at each other. Griot continued.

“Two days after your battle in the Atlantic, surveillance footage made its way to an unofficial C.I.A. team that answers to Director Valentina De Fontaine. While I managed to corrupt most of the file before the Director could see it, one of the agents had managed to record and save this video of the fight between your two nations.”

In the center of them, Griot played the caught footage of the Wakandans aboard the Sea Leopard, fighting fiercely with the Talokanil who were making their way aboard the ship. It was the first time Shuri had seen what had been happening when she and Namor were fighting to the death on the beach. 

Her throat constricted watching their people meet each other blow for blow. This was the price she had felt justified in paying for revenge. Now it seemed like her plan had cost them more than they could afford. 

Next to her she could feel the tension rolling off Namor in waves, his jaw clenching and unclenching with his fists. 

“I have endangered my people with my rashness and hunger for revenge,” pain making his voice thick and raspy. 

“The blame is ours to share, K’uk’ulkan,” Queen Ramonda said softly and Shuri nodded in agreement, too ashamed to voice her own culpability. 

“Griot,” the Queen said, “ is this all the footage that the C.I.A possesses of that day?”

“Yes, Queen Mother, these twelve seconds are all that they managed to save before I sabotaged the rest.” 

“Good.”

Shuri looked at her mother quizzically. 

“Why is that good?”

“Because this shows nothing but a battle on board a ship. We can easily say that the Talokanil are a secretive Wakandan tribe that prefers tradition more than technology, like the Jabari. There is no evidence of the Black Panther, nor of a man with wings on his ankles in this footage. For all we know, they still think we are without a protector. This is good. We can handle this.”

Namor did not look quite so convinced and Shuri knew that his silence was just him biting his tongue. She could bet all the vibranium in Mount Bashenga that he was doing his best to restrain himself from arguing that this was as good a reason as any to strike the surface world. 

Shuri tried to find his eyes but he was glued to the footage playing on a loop in the space between them, anguish and anger interchanging in his stare. 

“I wish that were the only thing, Queen Mother, but unfortunately there is another matter, the reason I also alerted our ally, the Feathered Serpent.” 

Shuri and the Queen exchanged fearful glances, neither knowing what Griot was about to say nor understanding immediately how high the stakes were now. 

“Since the battle, the spy satellite has been monitoring the oceans and two days ago they spotted some activity near the oil spill where the Talokanil were setting up the last of the tube sponges in the water.”

The Princess gasped and heard Namor growl when the screen showed the tubes designed by the Riri and herself, drawing the viscous black fluid from the ocean water and into the sponges, while at least 20 Talokanil formed a perimeter around the tubes, locking them in place. When they were done, there was a command given by someone who looked like Attuma, and the Talokanil disappeared beneath the waves. 

It was getting hard to breathe. Shuri felt as if the walls were closing in and her world was about to crumble. Every single thing she had tried to do to help was becoming the very thing leading the C.I.A to their doorstep. From the trip to get Riri, to the tube sponges designed for Namor’s people, to the war she had taken to the Talokanil in her attempt to avenge her mother.  Guilt was an elephant and her chest was its savanna. 

“Griot, who has seen this footage?” Namor demanded, his rage barely contained. 

She needed a plan. Fast.

“Two agents, Ms. De Fontaine and Agent Ross,” Griot replied.

“As in our Agent Ross?” the Queen cut in.

“Yes, Queen Mother, Agent Everett Ross.”

“Are you friends with these Americans?!” Namor bellowed.

Shuri interjected quickly. 

“Not the Americans, just Agent Ross. He is an ally to Wakanda, an inside man in the C.I.A. He owes me his life,” she ended softly, with a pleading glance to Namor, her heart breaking at the betrayal she read in his eyes.

Come on brain, think ! She urged her massive brain to come up with something to at least buy them some time. 

“Agent Ross was the one who led us to Ms. Williams, K’uk’ulkan. He put his life at risk to warn me of the plans of the US government to destabilize Wakanda. We can trust him.”

“No. You can trust him. I do not know this man!” he spat the last word, his contempt bare. 

“I am not asking you to trust him. I am asking you to trust us,” the panther dared to place a hand on his chest, feeling it rise and fall with agitation.  

Softly she continued, locking her eyes on his,

“I am asking you to trust me. Please. Trust me.”

For what seemed like a lifetime, his eyes searched hers until he exhaled a long breath and visibly released some tension from his body and nodded curtly, his mouth still pressed into a thin line. 

She was so focused on managing Namor’s fury that she missed her mother’s falcon-like observation of the scene they were making. 

“It benefits both our nations to have Agent Ross on our side, my king,” Ramonda added.

“How can you be certain that he will not turn on you? His kind do nothing without looking to benefit. How do you know that he is not working against your best interest?”

“Ever since he left Wakanda’s borders, Agent Ross’ moves are not unknown to Wakanda should we wish them not to be,” the Queen said to the skeptical king. 

Griot confirmed, “That is true, Aj K’uk’ulkan. Mr. Ross is under our watch, to ensure Wakanda’s secrets are safe.” 

“Does he know about us?”

Queen Ramonda shook her head. “He does not.”

“If he does, he dies,” Namor stated with an edge of finality.

Neither Wakanadan had the courage to protest. 

A plan was beginning to form in Shuri’s head but she needed to flesh it out a bit more before she shared it with the king and queen. It would be risky and involve many moving parts but it was better than going into open combat with a world superpower with endless allies. 

“Griot, is there anything else that we need to know?” she asked the AI.

“There is in fact one more thing, Panther.”

Silence fell on the three after Griot’s last revelation, the implications of it leaving each listener with their own reaction and realization. 

Something in the princess’ mind clicked and the plan began to take solid form. This was actually a good thing. Great, even! She just had to convince the others.

“This is perfect,” she thought out loud.

“Excuse me, Shuri, but did you not hear what Griot just said? Do you know what that means-?”

“I heard him, Mother. But I have a plan, and this makes it better actually. I need you both to hear me out,” she glanced at Namor, who wore a stormy expression. “Please.”

“Shuri…” her mother started

“I will listen to the Panther,” Namor interrupted, giving her a nod.

Shuri felt her chest swell with his vote of confidence. She knew that the only thing he wanted to do right now was wage war on the United States and the rest of the surface world. Given all they learned tonight, she could not fault him for wanting to, so the fact that he was willing to listen to, and possibly follow her plan meant so much to her. S

he wished they were alone.

“What is your plan, daughter?” the queen acquiesced. 

Shuri grinned mischievously. “I am glad you asked.”

Chapter Text

It did not take him long to find his way through the colorful streets and alleys of Wakanda. He always volunteered for any reconnaissance mission to the isolated nation since encountering the beautiful bald-headed warrior on the bridge. She had burrowed her way under his skin and set up permanent residence.

He could barely sit still during the dinner, eager to go find the one called Okoye again. When they had broken up for lunch, he raced through the town, oblivious to the stares that he received from the wary Wakandans, solely focused on locating the woman who had bested him during their last battle in the ocean.

His ego had been bruised then, but when K’uk’ulkan confessed that he had yielded to the Black Panther and there was no shame in his revelation, only pride and gratitude that he had finally found his equal, Attuma began to desire his Wakandan warrior in ways more than just physical. She was his equal, a general as was he, loyal to a throne and country, living a life of duty, a life that would never truly ever belong to them fully.

She would understand his hunger for combat, the adrenaline of defeating an enemy, the euphoria of finding an opponent’s weakness and seeing that look in their eye of knowing that they have been bested; that you hold their fate in your hands, and their future is at your mercy.

She would intimately empathize with the darkness that such a line of work fed; the struggle to find the balance between feeding the demon that craves blood and relishes the sound of broken bones and battered flesh and the noble fighter that seeks justice and to protect all that is good and precious. He had seen it in her eyes. She, Okoye, more than anyone, would understand.

He needed her.

When he spotted her, she was with a group of villagers, engaged in restoration efforts to clear rubble that remained from their retaliation on the African nation. Guilt washed over him but only briefly. This was the life of a warrior. He had never felt guilty about exacting justice with the surface world before, he did not see why this was any different. But even before the thoughts were fully formed, he knew why it was different; her.

Attuma’s  words had halted in his throat, and he did not know what to say when she suddenly looked over her shoulder and leveled him with a stern look, eyes blazing like Talokan’s sastun.

“What are you doing here?” she had asked in his mother tongue, and he decided that he wanted to hear her say many, many other things in his language with her enchanting accent.

“I came to see you,” he had replied dumbly, mentally kicking himself for how clunky he sounded.

“Well, if it’s a rematch you seek, I am busy at the moment, you know,” she gestured to the buildings that bore damage, “since we have to fix what you and your brilliant flying king broke.”

With that she turned her back to him and he felt summarily dismissed.

He had returned to the second half of the council meeting quite visibly crestfallen, earning mocking sneers from Namora though he barely even cared. He was lost in his thoughts on how to earn at least a civil conversation with the enchanting but guarded Okoye.

There was no accepting defeat and setting his sights elsewhere. It was her or no one else. He knew it as certainly as he knew his name. This was not going to be quick and easy courtship, but he was willing to make every effort, no matter how huge, to show her that he could be more than just an opponent.

With resolve, after the meeting ended, he had made his way back to where she still toiled under the hot African sun, the muscles of strong arms flexing with effort as she hauled wooden planks from inside a house that was nearly demolished to a pile in the middle of what looked like a large, shared yard.

Without a word, he went to join her, easily lifting four boards and bringing them to the pile as he had seen her and the others doing. The Wakandanspresent all trained their eyes on him, their motions halted and mouths agape in confusion or disbelief he wasn’t sure.

He felt slightly self-conscious but pushed it away. The only opinion that mattered to him was that of Okoye, who finally spoke up after his third trip into the house.

“Just what do you think you are doing, warrior?!” she hissed at him, after motioning her countrymen to continue their work.

Not stopping his activity, Attuma had simply responded,

“Fixing what we broke.”

He placed a particularly heavy piece of wood over his shoulder and walked past Okoye at the entrance, noticing the softening of her expression into one of weary acceptance. At least her scowl was gone.

They had worked silently, side by side, until the rubble was cleared from the building, and he had to return to the citadel for the council dinner.

“May I see you again, Okoye?” he had asked, praying to Chaac that she would be amenable to his request.

“What for?” she asked suspiciously.

If his stomach was not moving like a serpent in distress, he would have laughed at how quickly her guard went up. There was a lot to prove to her and he was determined to do so, but he could not if he did not get a chance to be in her company, preferable alone.

“I wish to give you something,” he blurted, and winced immediately seeing the lips he coveted press into a thin line and cocoa eyes narrow.

“You have nothing I want,” she quipped sharply, folding her arms, glistening with sweat from the day’s work.

“I cannot say the same about you,” he said plainly, bowing his head slightly, looking at her through his lashes.

“What is that supposed to mean?” she had asked, unfolding her arms

“ I would like the privilege of your company,” he rushed on when she opened her mouth to protest, “one conversation. Please, Okoye.” 

He could see the apprehension in her eyes and he understood. She was trained to assess threats and to read people quickly. She could not have the wide eyed optimism of others. No, she sacrificed that, so  others may live in blissful ignorance under her protection. He respected it. He respected her. 

She gave him a once over slowly, silently, as if waiting for him to squirm under her scrutiny, but he never flinched. He stood, steadfast, sturdy, confident that he would pass whatever examination she could throw his way. 

When her gaze trailed back up the length of his densely muscled body to his eyes, he felt a stir on the inside. There was an electricity in their held stare and from the slightly alarmed expression on the Warrior’s , he could tell she felt it too. 

“Fine. One conversation. No later than ten. If you can’t find me before then, too bad.” 

Jubilant, a wide grin spread across his face before he realized… 

“Where will I find you?” 

She smirked and closed her eyes, her nose in the air, 

“Yes, where indeed?” 

Now, using the kimoyo beads the queen had gifted them earlier, he followed the map uploaded by K’uk’ulkan. He had almost begged on his knees for the god king to help him win the Warrior’s heart. His king had made the request to the Black Panther who was sympathetic to his cause. 

He took a final left turn and found the house that the map labeled as Okoye’s. K’uk’ulkan’s words echoed in his head as he raised a fist to knock on the door 

“Wakandan women, it seems, require some patience, my child. They are bold and fierce in battle, but timid and cautious in matters of the heart.Learn her. Listen to her with your heart and mind. Be honest but gentle. And most importantly, control the head below your waist!” 

The memory made him blush just as he did upon hearing before he fled the dining hall at the palace. He knocked twice praying that he had the right house. 

He was about to knock again when the door swung open and his mind went blank, his mouth now dry despite his mask. 

Before him Okoye stood, in a blue and silver dress that wrapped around her slender waist, accentuating her full, smooth bosom that seemed to beckon like a lighthouse to a lost sailor. The dress stopped short mid thigh and the firm, dark flesh looked moisturized and supple, like every inch of her and he was having difficulty breathing, imagining how warm her thighs would be wrapped around his ears while he —

“Hmmph. You found me. With an hour and thirty seven minutes to spare. Impressive,” a faint smile touched her lips as she stretched her arm up the door frame regarding him, the other hand on her hip. 

Without waiting for an answer she turned and walked into the living room that was decorated in earth tones, deep greens and rich browns with pops of navy blue accenting ever so often. Subtle but sophisticated. 

“Are you going to shut your jaw and my door any time soon, Attuma?” she threw over her shoulder as she sauntered into an adjoining room he guessed was her kitchen. Hurriedly he closed the front door behind him as he stepped into the open living area, sandalwood and sage filled his nostrils pleasantly. 

Her abode was like her, but  a house. Practical but with an undeniable effortless gracefulness. He looked around. No sign of a man’s presence that he could notice; his heart soared. 

K’uk’ulkan had mentioned in passing that the former general was divorced but he was not certain if there was anyone else in the picture. And why wouldn’t there be? She was a goddess! But it mattered not. Soon, any other contenders would be a distant memory. He planned to woo Okoye until all she craved was him til the end of their days. 

“Eh eh! You are very quiet tonight, Attuma. Shark got your tongue?” 

She smirked, handing a glass with what looked and smelled like some sort of alcoholic beverage. 

No but I wish you had my tongue , he thought, but instead said, 

“ You know my name.” 

Stupid minnow! He cursed himself. Of all the inane, simple-minded things he could say–

“Yes, and you know my name,” she said slowly with a mocking smile. “ And the sky is blue and rivers are wet. Are we stating things that are obvious or…” 

Despite himself Attuma laughed, retracting his new rebreather to sip from the cup. The alcohol was quite strong but not unpleasant, herbaceous and fruity, very balanced. 

“This is very good. Thank you.” 

She nodded in reply. 

“At least you handle liquor better than conversation.” 

Attuma felt his face grow hot. He was blowing this. He needed to get himself together before she threw him out.  It was just difficult since the very sight of her was making the blood leave his brain. 

Focus Attuma.  

He tried to force his body into submission.

“Thank you, beautiful Okoye, for inviting me here tonight. It is a great honor to be in the company of a warrior as skilled as you.” 

She hummed, appraising him. 

“My name is just Okoye, but thank you,” the shy smile on her full lips made his heart flutter , “and I did not invite you, you made a request,” she finished, pointing at him.

“And I am forever grateful that you obliged me,” He flashed her what he hoped was his most dazzling smile as bowed, never taking his eyes off hers. 

Something shifted in her demeanor that gave him courage. Straightening to his full height he walked towards her, holding her gaze, watching as her breathing seemed to increase in pace. 

“There was something that I have been struggling with and I was hoping you could provide me some help.” 

“ It’s your technique isn’t it?” she blurted immediately. “ Honestly, I’m surprised you are humble enough to even ask but I’m glad you did. We need to always  improve on our skills, who knows what these crafty Americans may—“

“That is not what I’m referring— … wait, what is wrong with my technique?” 

“ You depend too much on your size. You are faster than one would expect but any fighter worth their salt will see right through—“ 

“ I was able to defeat you just fine as I recall,” he responded, cutting her off, feigning an inspection of  his nails, his pride roaring to life. 

That earned him a huff from her and suddenly there was a finger digging into his chest. 

“You did NOT defeat me! That tiny woman of yours had you water bomb me and interrupted me kicking your ass!”

“You are lucky that all I did was water bomb you!” 

“Oh ho! Well then,” Okoye scoffed, “Do your worst, warrior,”

“Do what?” he snapped, confused.

“You said I was lucky all you did was water bomb me. Whatever else it was you wanted to do on that bridge,” she got into a defensive fighting stance, fists up, “do it now. I dare you.”

He didn’t think, her words triggering something deep within his mind and before he could register his actions, he was closing the distance between them then pressing his lips on hers and Chaac-

He had to use all his might not to moan in ecstasy. It was better than anything he could imagine. Her lips were soft and full and he longed to know how they tasted but he dared not try before she –

She parted her lips to kiss him back! Chaac’s sweet sweet mercy !

His heart was soaring, his head was light, was he floating? He did not know; he could not feel the ground beneath him. He was all instinct, no thoughts, grabbing her by her hips and pulling her closer gently. There was only a slight hesitation before she shuffled her feet and leaned into his embrace. There was no one on this planet who’s happiness could rival his with her in his arms. His dreams did no justice to the feeling. 

He wanted to moan when she sucked lightly on his lower lip but he was afraid he would scare her away, so he let it die in his throat. Too soon, she pulled away and stepped back, regarding him with an indecipherable expression. Wakandan women were indeed quite strange. He needed to know what she was thinking. 

“Okoye, I-”

She held up a hand to stop him. 

“We don’t need to have a long post- mortem. I was curious. That is all it was.” 

Her words stung him, his worst fears realized right after the greatest joy. 

“I… you… it was… an experiment?”

She shrugged, one brow arched as she sipped the liquor in her glass. 

He couldn’t believe he was so wrong about her! Nothing could have prepared him for how cruel and callous she could be. He felt so foolish and anger was replacing his humiliation. 

“I am only blue on the surface but that does not make me any less human than you. I am not some creature to conduct experiments on!” 

He turned on his heel and headed for the door, eager to get out of this room that was suffocating him all of a sudden.

Before he could open the door, strong fingers wrapped around his forearm, stopping him. 

“Attuma, stop!”

He didn’t turn around, unable to face her, but he did pause his exit. 

“Why? So you can humiliate me further?”

He heard her sigh before she spoke,

“You misunderstood me. What I meant to say was , I was curious about what … Bast… I was interested… shit… I wanted to know what it would feel like to kiss you. That is all.” She released him and walked back to where she had left her drink.

He let her words sink in  and work their way through his brain before he walked over to her. 

“How long have you wanted to know?” he couldn’t control the lopsided grin on his face. She had been thinking of kissing him too. 

“What?” she gulped, her eyes widening.

“How long,” he stepped closer, “have you desired to kiss me, Okoye?” he loved the sound of her name on his tongue. He could say it over and over and never grow tired. 

“Hmmph,” she folded her arms and set her face obstinately, “Five minutes.”