Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

It’s been three years and Shuri still leaves one day a month on a boat.

T’Challa stands behind her, sighing. “Shuri. Don’t you think this has gone on too long? The man said not to look for him.”

If he wasn’t Shuri’s brother and if he wasn’t so Bast damned nice, Shuri would have ignored him. Alas, he’s her brother and he’s nice and Shuri doesn’t have the heart to ignore him. Shuri revs up the engine before facing her brother, who has a disapproving frown on his face; one she has seen multiple times over the course of three years. Or more. Maybe.

It’s been three years since the multiversal mishap with K’uk’ulkan. It's been three years since her invention of the portal and yet, when she has replicated it exactly like she did– it didn't work. Said it was getting disrupted. Sometimes, it would break.

A sign from fate. Or Bast. Not to mess with other worlds, said her brother. 

It's been three years and Shuri has yet to encounter the K’uk’ulkan of this world, of her world. The thought used to excite her, when she was eighteen and didn't know any better. When the entire multiversal mishap happened, she threw herself into research– and it was easy, getting information on K’uk’ulkan. Though it was not in Wakanda’s archives, Google definitely had a lot to say. But only enough for her to pinpoint a location she can go to.

A place that T’Challa undoubtedly disapproves of. All because it was outside Wakanda.

“You can’t stop me,” She snarks, raising her nose, both as an act of defiance and intimidation. As expected, it doesn’t work on her brother, who only raises his eyebrow at her. “I’ve already made up my mind. The man knows about what happened years ago but refuse to meet us–”

“Maybe he’s different,” T’Challa counters, softening his voice as he steps closer. “We might’ve known a version of him, but we don’t know him here.”

There’s an implication buried in those words. “He won’t hurt me,” Shuri says, affronted.

“You don’t know that,” T’Challa steps forward again, a frown cemented on his face. “We don’t know anything about them. And don’t even start with that research of yours. They don’t say much about him. Except the fact that he’s considered a god. I’ve already gone back to the same place we met last time, but no one was there. And–”

Aggravated, Shuri throws her hands up, “And maybe you’re not the right person for it, brother! I’m of age, and I can do things by myself. You know this. I can check a little beach by myself just fine. What is wrong with you?”

A body moves in between them. “Woah, woah. Let’s chill out for a sec.”

Shuri’s eyebrow twitches. “Move aside, N’Jadaka.”

Erik turns around and puts his hands on his hips. “Is that any way you should talk to your older cousin?”

Shuri groans. She’s getting tired of the conversation and she expresses it well by turning around and fumbling with her packed bags. 

She doesn’t see it but she feels the wind when Erik turns back around to face her brother. She listens in, but it’s mostly Erik not keeping whatever they’re talking about as secret anyway. And it’s about her, and her so-called fishman, so, whatever.

“Come on, ‘cuz. Shuri never asks for anything. Why not give her this little outing? You know, as usual?” Erik says, nudging the king’s elbow with his. T’Challa looks unfazed and unconvinced by him, but his glare is melting away by the time Shuri peeks behind her. “She can handle herself. And besides,” Eric says proudly, “GRIOT is with her. Right, GRIOT?”

He’s met with silence and it takes everything in her not to laugh. Erik looks offended. “I said, right, GRIOT?”

Shuri subtly moves her hand to press her beads. 

“Oh, yes, Prince N’Jadaka,” GRIOT finally responds, though the humor is not lost. T’Challa laughs and she barely stifles her own. “I will be with the princess the entire time.”

“See!” Erik puts his hands up with an excited exclamation. “She’ll be fine. Shuri can always send us a warning when trouble comes for her. Or GRIOT can tell us. No biggie.”

T’Challa sighs, defeated. “I am just… worried about your safety, Shuri.”

Oh, he’s talking to her. Shuri whips around, frowning. But before she could open her mouth and state her argument, T’Challa talks once more. 

“And I am also worried that what…” T’Challa’s lips twist. “Who you meet there will disappoint you. Endanger you.” He takes her hands, rubbing them gently and soothingly with his thumb. It’s a thing of theirs– whether the other is aggravated or upset. It helps, because it was what their father used to do for them.

Shuri massages back. “I can do this,” She says confidently, meeting her brother’s eyes with hers. “If it… If he disappoints me, I’ll come back. No biggie.” She ends her sentence with the same phrase from Erik, who looks weirdly proud of it. She pointedly ignores him. 

T’Challa snorts. “Alright. Just remember to call. And remember that if–”

“If something happens, call you first,” Shuri recites monotonously. She beams when T’Challa huffs. “I got it already. Now, can I go?”

T’Challa sighs dramatically. “My sister wants to leave so badly. Is this how our bond has come to? Are you getting sick of me?”

Shuri snorts and pushes him away. “So what if I am sick of you!” She laughs out loud at the expression her brother made. 

Erik cackles in the back while T’Challa steps away for the jet to lift. T’Challa stares at the boat inside the jet. “Do you really need to bring such… primitive boat?” Shuri sighs loudly at the question T’Challa has asked for the third time. And Okoye asked the same question yesterday. Her mother, just a day ago. And Aneka–

“Yes, brother,” Shuri insists again, though her patience is waning. “I told you I can’t just let everyone see I’m in a Wakandan jet. I need to blend in. A normal ship is my best bet. Besides, I’ll just leave the jet somewhere nearby. Or in hover mode.”

“Okay, okay,” T’Challa says with his hands up. “I’ll see you soon?”

Shuri smiles as the doors start to close. “Hopefully really soon, brother.”

“Be safe,” T’Challa says fondly and though there is an obvious worry in his eyes, he waves reluctantly.

Shuri grins. “I always am.”

When she turns back, she hears T’Challa’s scoff. It only serves to make her grin.

When the jet lifts from the ground and she’s seated on the pilot’s seat, she doesn’t look back. She falls asleep on the way to her destination– but she isn’t worried, at all. The jet is invisible and impossible to detect through other countries’ devices and gadgets, and she has GRIOT on autopilot, and she has a lot of faith in her A.I. bringing her to the place safely. 

Shuri wakes up to GRIOT’s voice. “Princess, we have arrived.”

Shuri sighs, refusing to open her eyes for a while. She knows, logically, that there is a chance that she won’t see him. She also knows, for a fact, that he’s somewhere here. Hiding. Though, hiding is a grievous accusation– she doesn’t know the K’uk’ulkan of this world, and she wasn’t sure if the one she met years ago was exactly the same. 

But she’s here now, and Shuri would rather get it over with and nurse her broken heart when she comes home.

If she does get out of this alive.

No, no, she scolds herself mentally. Bad thought.

Shuri waits for the door of the jet to open and she pushes the boat with a bit of a struggle. It lands on the water, splashing the water around and some of it making a puddle on the boat. Shuri could care less, really, and promptly jumps on the boat. She almost slips, but gets a hold of the railing and lets out a sigh of relief.

“Are you alright, princess?”

“Yeah, yeah,” Shuri mutters, looking at the water. She can faintly see fishes swimming by but they disappear deeper into the ocean quickly. She’s never had a reason to fear the ocean– but seeing the deep blue ocean around her makes her heart pick up just a tiny bit. “My suit is ready?”

A slot of the boat opens up and reveals her suit. “Yes, princess.”

Shuri nods, determined. “Great. Put the jet on hover and invisible mode. Now, how sure are we that this is going to bring me… deep?”

“Just as we have discussed before, you can only reach ten thousand feet.”

“Before the suit gives up, huh?” Shuri hums, tinkering with her kimoyo beads. While she would love to swim deeper, she knew she would have to create and design a sturdier and bigger suit for that. She’s still trying to figure out how to do it– even though the Americans are already satisfied with their clunky and astronaut-like suit. 

“Yes. And before the pressure breaks your bones.”

“Wow, GRIOT,” Shuri replies sarcastically. She should really check GRIOT’s code. He’s been having too much humor these days. “Thanks for your vote of confidence.”

“Of course, princess. I believe in you.”

Shuri sighs loudly. “And what about my oxygen?”

“As per your words; enough.”

Shuri’s mouth quirks up. Yeah, the humor thing has got to be researched. That was for another day, though. She lets the helmet form around her head and her reflection on tinted glass meets her eyes. She stares back down at the blueness against the ledge and railing. Though she has her doubts and fears, Shuri’s never been one to quit. 

“Diving now,” she announces as she backed away from the railings to hook the vibranium rope on her suit and then leaped into the ocean.

The water must feel cool and it’s unfortunate that she wasn’t swimming as vacation or to lounge around. No, this time, she has a mission; a mission she has set for three years– since she has met another version of K’uk’ulkan.

It has definitely piqued her interest in the topic of the multiverse at that time, but even now, three years later, she still hasn’t made a breakthrough. And it wasn’t like Dr. Strange would help. He refuses to and says that it isn’t something she has to know about though she disagrees. Yet, she can’t do anything and is powerless because even her invention is disagreeing with her.

The memory of her failed invention makes her sigh again. It has been long since it hasn’t worked, and she should get over it. 

She swims deeper, as deep as her lanky arms could let her. As a princess, she might have exploited her position when it came to training. Okoye and her mother have made several offers to train her and she has refused every single time. Why would she need training and combat experience when her brother was there? When Eric was there? When Okoye exists? When her technology can protect her just fine?

She snorts. Her mother didn’t really like her reasons, but her brother was nicer about it. He agrees with her, as he always does. He tells her that he will be by her side, at all times, and even though random proclamations of those usually ick her, it also makes her feel warm. It started three years ago, the same time when she had met K’uk’ulkan and another version of her.

Shuri’s not entirely sure what they talked about before she came into consciousness, but it definitely changed her brother… a bit. It wasn’t a bad change, but he kept reassuring her that he’s fine and that he’ll always be with her. 

She once smacked him because it was getting annoying. T’Challa got the message.

Now, as she swam deeper though, she might be starting to regret her refusals to train. Ugh, she hated regretting something. Anything.

As she swims, she passes by numerous schools of fishes. They don’t bother her at all and take another route just to avoid her. While she would love nothing more to catalog each and every marine life right now, she reminds herself of her mission.

Her mission was to find the hidden city of Talokan. With limited research to guide her. Great start.

She knows there is a Talokan. She knows there is another K’uk’ulkan living in the waters. She’s sure of it. Her brother had met some of the blue people of Talokan before the other K’uk’ulkan appeared. He described them perfectly from memory but no matter what, no matter the amount of resources, Shuri couldn’t find a single mention of blue people that aren’t aliens from the numerous invasions in New York.

It only made her want to rip her hair out. So she stopped for a while.

Looking side to side, she sees an infinite amount of corals and fishes. Looking down at her floating feet, she sees an infinite amount of blue. She tamps down the fear crawling up her skin and continues to swim down. There are more corals. And there are more jellyfishes on this part of the sea. She avoids them which was probably unnecessary, seeing as their sting won’t penetrate her suit.

Due to her aching muscles, she stops for a while. She rolls her shoulder, cringing. “Bast,” she mutters under her breath as she looks down once again. It’s getting bluer. Darker. She knows it’s a bad idea. “Bast protect me,” she prays silently. 

She’s always been a skeptic, even more so when her father died, but it doesn’t stop her from believing in Bast in certain situations. As she floats, she can feel the pressure on her body. Her arms and legs are having a hard time moving in the deeper part. 

She clicks her tongue in annoyance. 

This was an unforeseen inconvenience. She had confidence that she could at least do it. 

Floating, she stays there for a while. A rest was nice, but in the ocean, she’s on high alert and her arms are flailing languidly at her sides. So, really, calling it a rest was wrong. A shiver goes down her spine when she feels something on her feet and her eyes widen when she looks down, only to find a strange looking eel snake its way through her feet. 

She floats still, watching it swim deeper down in the ocean, as if mocking her incompetence. 

Annoyed, she glares at the daunting blue below her. 

She could do this. She takes another deep breath and forces her muscles to work with her. She swims farther down, grabbing a hold of the rope. She takes in the silence around her and finally realizes that she hasn’t heard from GRIOT in a while.

Shuri hurriedly grasps at her kimoyo beads. “GRIOT?” She speaks, her heart rate picking up slightly.

“Yes, princess?”

She sighs in relief, putting a hand over her chest. “Just checking. How deep are we?”

“Almost three thousand feet, princess.”

“Only that?!” Shuri almost screeches, groaning when she exerts effort on her arms. She pulls them back to her, rolling her neck. “Bast, I’m tired.”

“Then I advise you to come back to the surface, princess. Your oxygen is running out.”

She curses. “Why didn’t you tell me that sooner? Pull me out!”

“As you wish, princess.”

The rope pulls her slowly, tugging her all the way up. She stares down and almost jerks in surprise when her eyes catch something glinting. It could’ve been a coral, or a shiny shell, maybe even a diamond, but she’s highly doubtful and she stops GRIOT’s rope. 

“Stop.” The princess orders, squinting her eyes. “I saw something.”

“There is no time, princess.”

Shuri frowns. “Fine. But I’m coming back later.”

“Of course, princess.”

She waits until she’s on the boat to remove her helmet. She breathes deeper, in and out. Even though she could perfectly breathe inside her suit, the pressure was still felt and Shuri was sure that if she hadn’t made this wetsuit, she would have been dead hours ago.

“How long was I under there?” She manages to rasp out.

“Five hours.”

She blows out a breath. “Damn.” No wonder her arms and legs were aching right now. She hadn’t realized she was under the sea for that long. 

“He wasn’t there,” Shuri mutters to herself. Maybe that glittering was something else. Anything could glitter in the ocean. Shuri lies down on the floor of the boat, going with the flow of the boat and how it floats on the wavy water. “Is he even real here?” She blurts out to no one, but her A.I. had other plans.

“As the King said, he is very much real since he–”

Swatting the air like a child, Shuri groans. “Yeah, yeah. I got that, GRIOT. I know. It’s just… weird.”

Both of them stay silent and instead of wallowing in her sadness, she sits up and grabs at her beads. She should probably call her brother. Or watch something. That was even more tempting. Resolute in her decision, she presses her beads, scrolling through numerous news articles about the Avengers saving the day again, Spider-Man caught kissing Deadpool, Charles Xavier saving another mutant kid, and many more. 

Shuri is glad there’s a lot going on in their lives. While she’s at the peaceful and calm sea.

Ugh. She’s bored. She pulls up an American romance movie. She wishes she brought popcorn. Her attention wanes when the two characters get back together for the second time in the film– and it’s even worse, because the man is unsure and– 

There they go again, Shuri thinks with a scoff. Getting back together and breaking up.  

Why did she even put this movie on?

She starts fiddling with her kimoyo beads, contemplating whether to call her brother. With nothing better to do, she presses one bead and calls her brother.

Her brother answers almost immediately. It makes her smile.

“Shuri,” T’Challa greets her enthusiastically. Shuri grins. 

“Hello, brother,” Shuri laughs. Her brother being excited due to her call was hilarious at least. “Have you eaten breakfast?”

It was almost nearing dinner time for her and the projected call with T’Challa shows the sun shining its brightest. Shuri feels a sense of homesickness, just for a bit, before she steels herself. T’Challa smiles brightly, turning his wrist to show her mother, Nakia, Erik, and Okoye around the table, having breakfast. The sight warms her heart and it lurches another urge to be there with them.

“Looks delicious,” Shuri sighs longingly. 

T’Challa grins. “Well, if you want one, sister…” You can always come home, were the words left unsaid.

Shuri snorts and shakes her head. “Nope. I’m fine here. It’s peaceful and I don’t have three people hounding and hovering over me.”

Only Nakia laughs. At least her brother has the decency to look amused. Okoye shoots a deadpan look at her while her mother raises an eyebrow. “I feel like they’ve shifted their attention to me,” Nakia tells her with a dramatic sigh which makes her giggle. “I can’t even go to bed without one of them telling me how I should lay down.”

T’Challa splutters. “I’ve read that lying on your left side is good for pregnancy!”

Shuri bursts out laughing. She was expecting it to be her mother, but seeing her brother get teased by the other women around the table brings another warmth in her. “Hayi, brother! You’re acting like a father already!”

At this declaration, T’Challa looks rejoiced instead of sheepish. “You think so?”

Shuri quirks her lips. “Yes, yes. Of course, brother.”

They talk a bit more. T’Challa’s worries has lessened and he doesn’t look troubled anymore when she had called. Nakia brings the laughter the most in the call, and Shuri has no complaints even though she’s the one who’s always joking. Okoye stays quiet but that’s her– and only piping in when teasing T’Challa. Their mother has asked her several questions, with the underlying meaning if she is alright, if she will be alright, and if everything is okay.

She answers them swiftly and truthfully. Well, maybe a little bent truth if she was okay. 

When she ends the call, she feels empty. 

She toys with her kimoyo beads, frowning. She already misses Wakanda and her family.

Suddenly, the boat rocks violently, making her slip and bump the railings, grabbing a hold of them to not fall to the water. Her kimoyo beads slip through her wrist and in horror, it falls in the water, sinking farther and farther.

“Shit!” Shuri shouts, struggling to put her suit back on. “GRIOT!”

GRIOT is still in her suit, thankfully. “Princess. You have lost your kimoyo beads.”

“Yeah, no shit!” Shuri snaps, gritting her teeth. When she finally puts her suit on, she puts a leg over the railing to dive. Only to be stopped by a white creature approaching her from the depths of the ocean. 

Unconsciously, she jumps back with her heart racing abnormally. 

The white creature presents itself. A Beluga whale. Shuri was scared of a Beluga whale. Before she can scold it for scaring her – not like it would understand her, anyway– she notices the glint of her kimoyo beads in the whale’s mouth.

Mouth agape, she advances slowly. Once in front of the whale, she stops. “Hi?” She greets, cringing inwardly. “Can I…” She motions to the beads, and surprisingly, the Beluga whale lets it go on the palm of her hand. 

The action has her eyes wide. She clutches the beaded bracelet in her hands, quickly wearing it. “Were you the one who bumped my boat?”

The white whale doesn’t answer, of course, but it moves, and Shuri has a hunch it might’ve been a nod. Or she’s going crazy. Still, she continues to scold, “That was dangerous,” She points at the Beluga as if the creature understood, “I could have fallen. And drowned. And lost my bracelet.”

She wouldn’t have drowned. Probably.

The creature noses her hand and she sighs. “Alright. You’re forgiven. Now, are you keeping me company–”

Below the whale, her eyes catch a glimpse of movement and a glint of gold. Her eyes widen and she immediately puts her helmet up, diving in without a moment’s hesitation. GRIOT has complaints, though.

“Princess! You have not hooked your suit!” GRIOT exclaims in a hurry but she merely shakes her head.

“I’ll be fine, GRIOT!” She shouts and continues to swim deeper. She faintly hears a sound, getting farther and farther away. It sounded like fins– but much faster, hitting the water at an inhuman speed. 

The Beluga whale from before swims by her side.

She glances at it with a small smile before her eyes go back to the glint in front of her. It’s going deeper and Shuri’s struggling to catch up.

“Princess.”

“Not now, GRIOT,” she stretches her arms to swim even more. 

“Princess, it is imperative that you must know–”

“GRIOT,” she hisses, grabbing onto the Beluga whale for support. It somehow understands her needs, letting her lean on it. “Now’s not the time.” The whale swims further but slower, with her grasping onto it. She doesn’t take her eyes off the moving light. It’s moving very fast, and fading away just as quick.

“Princess, you told me to tell you–”

“Bast damn it,” she curses when she finally realizes GRIOT’s insistence. She lets go of the Beluga whale, who looks confused at her sudden withdrawal. “Up, up, up. ”

She tries to swim upward, but her arms are tired and her legs are cramping. She flinches, breathing harshly. She could feel the air get thinner inside her helmet and if she were to remove her nanotech helmet, the water would only worsen it.

Panicking, she pushes herself to swim upward. 

K’uk’ulkan, she thinks as she gasps, breathing in the remaining oxygen. K’uk’ulkan. 

“K’uk’ulkan,” She whispers and then there’s a buzz whizzing past her. A warm arm encircles her waist and they break the surface faster than she could ever swim. When she realizes the blue is the sky and not the water, she puts down her helmet, gasping the salty air of the sea. 

She holds onto the neck of the person who’s saved her… and the one who’s currently flying toward her boat. She glances quickly, catching the same brown skin, beard, and the same jade septum piercing. 

The man gently puts her down and she wobbles a bit, only to find some support on the chiseled chest. 

“You couldn’t have saved me earlier?” is the first thing out of Shuri’s mouth as soon as she looks up.

He looks the same. From three years ago. Except, the one she met wasn’t the same with this person standing in front of her. It was a different version, another K’uk’ulkan from another universe. The man stares down at her, glaring imposingly. 

“You shouldn’t have swam after me,” The man says, close to a scolding. “You could have drowned.”

Shuri stands up straight, tilting her head and raising an eyebrow. “You would let me drown?”

“Of course not– you’re–” K’uk’ulkan tsks with a tense jaw. “You should have known better.”

“And you should have showed up way earlier,” Shuri immediately responds, digging her pointed finger on the other’s naked chest. “Oh, wow,” Shuri stares. “You’re real .”

K’uk’ulkan furrows his eyebrows. It’s kind of cute, Shuri thinks. “Of course, I’m real. You know I’m real.”

“Well, I wasn’t sure until now,” Shuri admits with her waning glare. At least the flying man looked sheepish about it. Maybe even a bit embarrassed. Shuri crosses her arms for the effect– something she’s seen from her brother, to look intimidating.

“You’ve met… the other me,” K’uk’ulkan approaches the topic delicately and Shuri wants to laugh. 

“Three years ago, yes. One would think it was a fever dream,” Shuri says, a little bit sulking. 

K’uk’ulkan glares at her though it doesn’t have any effect. Shuri is not scared of him, and he hasn’t given her any reason to be scared in the first seconds of meeting him. “Why are you here, princess?” The man avoids the topic altogether and Shuri has half a mind to put it on topic again. But she lets him be.

As she was about to answer, K’uk’ulkan continues. “Are you trying to find Talokan? What is your reason? Have you planned something?” At this, his glare has hardened and his aura has become dangerous. Shuri was now staring straight at danger but she still stands her ground.

“I’m trying to find Talokan becasue I was looking for you, isidenge! ” She stabs his firm chest with a finger, making her point. She’s also glaring and has her hand on her hip. The man narrows his eyes at her.

“I do not know that word.”

“Kuhle kuwe,” Shuri waves her wrist in the air between them. 

K’uk’ulkan sighs. “You shouldn’t have tried to find me, princess.”

The words make her bristle. She’s heard those words multiple and numerous times over the course of three years from her brother, her mother, Okoye, and even Erik sometimes. Anger unfurls inside of her as she steps one foot forward and pushes her tiptoes up.

At the proximity, K’uk’ulkan steps back. “Everyone is saying that!” Shuri screams, grabbing the other’s chin, who looks surprised at her outburst. She glares directly in his eyes. “And none of you have given me a good reason why!”

K’uk’ulkan slaps her hand, pulling back with a growl. “We are different, princess. Whoever you thought you might have known three years ago. We are different. Did he not warn you like he did me?”

“He did,” Shuri crosses her arms again. “And I didn’t listen, because here I am! And I don’t care if you’re different! He was another version from another universe, okay, so what? I don’t care. I want to get to know the you of this world. Is that so much to ask?”

K’uk’ulkan blinks. She tries to keep her breathing even. The whole speech had gotten a lot of her air. 

She bites her lip. And I know that the other version of you was in love with the other me. And I’m sure the other me fell in love with the other you too. 

She would not tell him those words right now. Another time.

K’uk’ulkan sighs through his nose and reaches out to her. She stands still, letting his hand grasp her jaw as he stares at her. His other hand snakes around her waist and Shuri keeps her eyes on his. There are shadows in his eyes – one that recognizes her immediately, and one that shows such an obscuring feeling. Strange, because K’uk’ulkan was looking at her, yet he was not looking at the real her. 

Her heart beat picks up when he gets closer. Shuri tries to solve that, but the man pulls away before she can get her gears running.

“How did you know I was here?” Her voice sounds weak in her ears. The man’s hand hasn’t left her waist just yet.

“Fishes talk,” K’uk’ulkan says dismissively. Shuri’s thoughts went back to the Beluga whale. “And the waves carry those whispers. It’s not important. I felt you.”

With the amount of information, Shuri takes time to reply. “You felt me?”

“Yes,” K’uk’ulkan whispers, genuine in his answer. “The waves rippled and the water brought me to you.”

It’s corny, really, but it has her cheeks heating up. “K’uk’ulkan, what–” are you saying, were what her words were supposed to be. But K’uk’ulkan shushes her immediately.

“Ch’ah,” He says and Shuri tilts her head in confusion. “You shall call me Ch’ah.”

Shuri’s mind flashes back to the time the other K’uk’ulkan– the other Ch’ah? – told them his name.

“My people call me Aj K’uk’ulkan, but my enemies call me Namor.”

So where does Ch’ah fit?

“Well, whatever, at least I found you. Ch’ah.” She tries out his name and gets a visible shudder from the man. Maybe he’s cold? Shuri presses herself closer. Body heat works, right? His eyes snap back to hers, and there are no shadows that can be seen within them. But the gaze makes her feel alight and she gasps when he tightens his hold around her waist.

Ch’ah smirks. “It’s more like I found you, princess.”

Shuri pushes him, scoffing. “You wish. Took me three years to look for you, you know?”

At this, Ch’ah’s face softened. “I know. I saw every attempt.”

Shuri gapes at him. “All this time?”

Before she could get mad, the man pressed a kiss on her fingertips. It sends shivers down her spine. “I’m sorry, in yakunaj, ” he says and she could feel his breath on her fingertips and palm. It makes her shiver again. “He told me… he told me that I would bring you nothing but pain,” the man explains furthermore, gritting his teeth and glaring at the floor below them. “That you… you would make me want.”

So he knows, Shuri thinks before holding Ch’ah’s hand and pulling him closer to her. “Then do it.”

“What?”

“Want,” Shuri answers and gulps at the intense gaze of the flying man. Want me.

Ch’ah chuckles and lays his head on her shoulder. “I already do, princess.”

Shuri feels her body light a match. It’s slowly burning and slowly getting bigger every time he touches her.

She knows the next words coming out of her mouth will put T’Challa to an early grave. 

“Then take me,” she whispers and Ch’ah glances at her from his position. 

“As you wish, princess.”

He takes her to his home. He takes her to his bed. He presses each kiss on her naked skin with a gentleness only a man like him knows. His hands were bloodied and dirtied, as he told her, and yet Shuri didn’t care at all. Not when every kiss on her lips took her breath away, not when every touch lit her body on fire, and not when every thrust had her gripping the sheets for purchase.

His voice touches her ears often. His whispered promises and praises.

Shuri, for the first time in a while, thinks she won’t be missing Wakanda.

Chapter Text

Shuri had always looked amazing in her – well, their bed. Though Namor had always preferred the hammock back in his hut in Talokan, he couldn’t deny the wonders a bed could offer during their lovemaking. The silky sheets and the soft lump of the pillows surrounded her like the queen she really was. And right now, as she was laying down in their bed with golden silky sheets, Namor knew he was in front of a goddess.

His hand twitched from his side. He wanted to immortalize this, to be able to capture her with his own skill on a canvas.

When he was caught staring from his chair, Shuri smiled, hiding half of it in her pillows. 

“You look hungry,” she said, laughing shortly. “Why not come here?”

She spread her arms, taunting and tempting him. Like a siren that calls from the sea. And Namor is weak to it, just as he had always been weak to Shuri.

He stood up from his chair, slowly approaching the queen.

He climbed over her, straddling her and caging her in. She didn’t seem fazed nor scared and instead, she wrapped her arms around him, caging him in also. Namor didn’t mind, and went along with the pull of his queen, who pulled him closer to her.

“In yakunaj,” he had whispered when she pressed a kiss on his cheek, close to his lips. “I am hungry.”

Shuri laughed, twinkling and melodious. Namor wants to hear it for the rest of his life. “Go on,” Shuri urged as she pushed him lower by the shoulders. Her eyes were glinting with mischief and lust, which only ignited his own. “Take your fill of me.”

Namor didn’t reply and pressed kisses from her collarbone to her chest, his hand coming up to squeeze her breast. His lips latched onto one of her nipples, receiving a gasp in return and a low moan. A smirk made its way on his lips before he started sucking. His hands traced her sides, from her breast, to her waist, to her hips and then gripped her thighs.

“My queen,” he murmured as his lips traveled from one skin to another. “I wish to taste you.”

Shuri was heaving by the time he was face to face with her wet entrance. “Then what are you waiting for, my king?”

The two words created a shiver in his body. 

He was hungry and starved– and Shuri fulfilled him in many ways. He mouthed at her slit, licking and flicking his tongue at her clit. The body beneath him jerked at the action and he couldn’t help but laugh a little. Shuri was sensitive from their previous lovemaking, but it never satiated both of them to just have one round.

Slick continued to pour from her entrance and he lapped it all up– relishing in his wife’s taste. Like a man starved, he dived deeper, plunging his tongue inside of her. With his enhanced hearing, he could hear the little hitch in Shuri’s breath and he felt her thighs twitch in his hands. It only motivated him to pull her closer, putting his tongue deeper inside of her.

The moment Shuri gripped his hair, he grinned briefly before frantically pressing onto her clit and licking her entrance. Shuri gasped as she climaxed and Namor took all the noises in, indulging more.

When he has had his fill, his mouth wet and dripping with Shuri’s slick and cum, Shuri pulled him up, pulling him closer and closer until their lips met in a passionate kiss. Shuri didn’t mind that she tasted herself in his mouth and when they parted, Shuri stared at him with crinkled eyes and a grin.

“More?” Shuri had asked, grinning. Namor wanted to bask in her light. 

“If it is alright with you, in báalam, ” he murmured instead, pressing kisses on her shoulder blades. 

He felt Shuri’s grin grow wider. “Then,” she had whispered, “You might be happy to know I’ve removed my contraception last night.”

Namor paused in his ministrations, his eyes growing big. He pulled from their loving embrace, looking at her laughing form. “You are not… pulling my leg?”

“Oh wow,” she had laughed, all ethereal and magnificent. “Right phrase. But yes, I am serious, husband. Now, what will you do about it?” There was a glint in her eyes that could only be described as both devious and seductive.

Namor let himself fall anyway.

They made love over and over again– and it was a night Namor would never let himself forget.

“Papa.”

Namor blinked as his hands stopped midair. He slowly put his paintbrush down on the table near him along with his palette. He didn’t have to fully turn around before a smaller body appeared next to his legs, and he couldn’t stop the smile that emerged from his face. 

“Yes, Kashvi?”

Kashvi looked up at him, eyes wide with innocence. “Are you painting mama again?”

His eyes briefly glanced at the unfinished portrait in front of him. Shuri’s eyes bore into his soul and her unfinished sketch of a smile tugged his heart. “Yes, little one,” Namor answered for a moment and grabbed the child by her armpits and carried her with one arm. “I am painting your mama once again.”

Kashvi hummed and leaned on him. “She’s pretty.”

For a moment, his throat clogged up. “Yes,” he whispered.

“Yuum?” A head popped up from the side of the entrance of the cave. Namor turned his head and was met by Anvika. His ears could pick up the multiple hushed voices whispering behind her and by Anvika’s face, she was pleading for him to play along.

“Yes, in asab ts'íik?” Anvika scrunched her nose at his nickname for her. It was a hard habit to break so they gave up on it. 

“Got some people who want to see you,” Anvika said, acting cryptic and mysterious.

A flurry of feet and little bodies came out from behind Anvika, who let it all happen. He was suddenly swarmed by little children, of the same age as his second child, Elethu, who was also leading the group with the biggest smile on her face. “Ibhongo lam,” he laughed more than he chided. “What have you got here? An audience?”

Elethu nodded enthusiastically. “Yes! For you, papa!”

Namor chuckled nervously as he stood up with his youngest still in his arms. “Why don’t we take this to the hut? Perhaps I can entertain you there.”

Elethu, ever easily pleased, nodded and beamed, dragging the numerous children with her as they headed to his hut. He and Anvika stood to the side, watching them all go.

He sighed. “She has too much energy for a child.”

Anvika snorted. “At least you didn’t have to make doors just for her.”

Namor bursted out laughing at the memory. When Shuri was pregnant and had birthed Anvika, the little child already had an affinity with water. It was something he was proud of, but they had it coming when she refused to not go into the water at least twice a day. She could not be let out of their sight, due to her lungs and gills still trying to develop at that age.

They had another surprise when she grew fangs and claws. But that was a story for another time.

“Come,” Namor urged his two children. “Let’s see what your sister wants.”

Kashvi made grabby arms at Anvika, who had no complaints as she took her from him. 

As soon as they arrived at his hut, Elethu came barreling towards them. “Tell us the story, Papa!”

“Elethu,” Anvika cut in, chiding and stern. He caught her worried glance before she turned back to her little sister. “It is barely one sun away from night, don’t you think it’s more appropriate to hear this before bedtime? Like usual?”

At her words, Elethu pouted, her cheeks puffing. Namor was always reminded of Shuri when that happened. “But I’ve heard it like a million times! My friends haven’t!”

In Anvika’s arms, Kashvi wiggled, wanting to be put down. With a put upon sigh, Anvika gently put her down. Kashvi ran to her sister’s side, nodding and agreeing with her. Namor smiled at the two. They always were a team, and both he and Anvika were weak to the both of them. 

Anvika glanced at him. Namor didn’t look back and instead, went to sit on his stool.

“Well,” he started, clapping his hands and watching them in amusement as they scuttled into positions. “The story, huh? The story where the panther fell into the snake’s grasp?”

Kashvi pouted. “No. It was the snake who fell for the panther’s claws!”

Namor chuckled. “You’re right, little one. Yes. It was exactly that.”

A story as old as time.

When the snake’s feathers were rumpled and torn– a masterpiece done by the panther’s sharp and stinging claws. 

As both of them learned what was held inside the eye of the storm, their walls collapsed and perhaps their hearts were the cause.

A life they shouldn’t have lived, lived by them.

As he told the story, he was amused by the reactions he received. Most of them reacted strongly in other parts, and some of them had too many questions to ask, ones that would have to wait. Anvika looked over them, worried and concerned like the big sister she always pursued to be. It made Namor smile and their reactions made him grin even bigger. 

By the end, some were tearing up and some were cheering. The story was of war, pain, betrayal and love, and Namor was glad they all understood that. Some of the Wakandan children went up to him, pointing at the paintings around his hut.

They knew who she was, of course, after all, it’s been almost three decades she was gone and she still had a statue in the Wakandan palace. 

He answered all their questions, even the ones he hesitated with.

Namor almost pleaded with Chaac to let this end, and was given a blessing through Namora.

Namora, who has aged wisely and beautifully, peeked into the hut. “K’uk’ulkan,” she said as greeting, bowing. Even when Namor and Shuri had told her it wasn’t necessary to bow and greet them so formally, they were people of habits– and Namora would rather pierce her heart with her own spear if she ever addressed him too casually.

“It is time, K’uk’ulkan,” Namora said and Namor sighed. 

“Alright, thank you, my child,” Namor replied gratefully and received another bow. “Will you bring the children to get dressed? I will dress myself so no need to send out handmaidens.”

Namora didn’t look surprised by his request. It’s been a request that has been normalized for so long. The first three times, she did insist on sending handmaidens to help him. He had to be firmer with his command lest she didn’t understand what he meant.

His cousin nodded obediently and ushered everyone out of the hut. Anvika stayed momentarily while he stood up and removed his golden armory. 

“Thank you, Baba,” Anvika whispered as she left the hut.

Her words made him freeze. She only called him Baba a handful of times as she grew up. When she was a child, she alternated between Papa and Baba since Shuri refused to let their children forget their Wakandan lineage. Anvika did adore calling him Baba though, she would use it against him a lot of the times, and most of those times, he would give in. 

Nowadays, she calls him Papa. After all, she was already in her fifth decade, and saying Baba made her embarrassed. Namor had no idea why.

His shoulders dropped at the reminder of the past, and he looked up at the painting of a wedding. It was his and Shuri’s wedding. He wasn’t sure if he captured Shuri’s brightness and happiness through his painting, and his memory of it was fading too– had Shuri been smiling the entire time?

Unconsciously, his hand reached out to caress the painting on his hut’s wall.

His mouth opened before his brain processed the action and the words coming out of it. 

“I don’t know how to do this without you, Shuri,” he said, surprised by his own words. He shut his eyes tightly, preventing the burning under his eyelids. 

He let the silence hang on as he removed pieces of his clothes. He wore a simple and loose-fitting huipil, much similar to the one he wore when the princess had been here the first time. A bittersweet memory, but a memory nonetheless. And it is still one of the memories he treasured and tried not to forget.

A knock echoed through the hut. He looked up, breaking himself out of his musings. “You may come in.” The only people who knocked were Wakandans, and yet, he wasn’t surprised to see Kaknab, Attuma’s eldest child, a warrior in his own right and someone who has been eyeing his precious eldest daughter. He narrowed his eyes before sighing to himself. 

“You get your manners from your mother at least,” were his first words which made the other stand still.

“My mother was a warrior, not uncivilized,” was the immediate reply from the child no less than his fifth decade. The boy realized his words and blushed deeply, his blue skin turning to a deeper hue. “Forgive me, K’uk’ulkan. I spoke out of turn.” He bowed.

Namor laughed and clasped him on the shoulder. “No need for apologies, young one. I see you got your attitude from your mother as well.”

“Yes,” he caught a smile from the boy, wistful and longing. “She was a wonderful woman.”

The words sobered him up. Right. His mother was also mortal. “Come,” he tilted his head. “I must meet my daughters and my…” He gulped and gripped his fist. “My wife.”

The boy’s eyes held sympathy. “Yes, A’K’uk’ulkan.” 

They dove into the pool, hurriedly swimming their way to the center of the city.

He saw his daughters, dressed in the most beautiful garments and linens of clothing. The style was a mix of both Wakanda and Talokan traditional garbs. It has been hard to create such a mix, but both Wakandans and Talokanils worked hard during the first years of the alliance. It was an amazing thing to experience, and his daughters’ beauty almost brought a tear in his eye.

“You look beautiful, my loves,” He greeted them with a compliment. Anvika huffed and turned away, but Namor knew better. She was embarrassed and that was alright, Namor has enough time to let her get used to compliments. A whole lifetime. Elethu and Kashvi delighted in his compliment, complimenting him back.

He looked plain in comparison to his daughters, but he had no qualms with that.

As the sun was rising, they all held hands and Anvika looked at him. 

Namor smiled. “It is alright, jach ix, ” he held onto their hands tighter. “Let us witness the sun rise for another day. As well as your mother, my wife, and Talokan’s queen.”

Everyone joined them all around. Some Wakandans had visited them, wearing their underwater suits and staring at the sun with pure joy.

As the sun rose, he closed his eyes and felt the warmth. The moment had to be cut short as he hurriedly opened his eyes.

There, behind the sun that he created, lay his wife’s body.

Mortal in life, immortal in their memories.

Kashvi has already started crying, crying out, “Mama!” And Namor had to stop the urge to comfort her.

Elethu was sobbing quietly, letting go of his hand in order to wipe her tears even though she was hiccuping fervently. Anvika was trying to put up a strong front with her squirming lips and tearful eyes. She was preventing herself from crying and Namor smiled, bittersweet.

Catching her attention by squeezing her hand, Anvika turned to look at him.

It’s okay, his eyes and face conveyed. It’s okay to cry, my little princess.

Anvika wailed.

And there, he pulled all three of his daughters in his arms. 

In the warmth of the sun and their mother’s love, Namor felt the tiniest bit of peace that only one woman could provide him.

Chapter Text

Shuri stares at the sleeping man on her bed, caressing his cheek and carding her fingers through his hair. It was getting longer, and she didn’t know whether it fit him or not. She would have to wait until he opened his eyes.

She sighs and pulls back from the bed, leaning on her chair while she grabs the tablet on the table near the bed. It’s been a week since the other Namor disappeared and his Namor returned to her, appearing out of nowhere in the same spot where the other Namor vanished. She had to drag his ass back to the palace without being seen by Okoye, M’Baku and Mjizibi. Especially Mjizibi. Useless man.

A ‘tsk’ came out of her mouth unprompted. Even just thinking about that man made her want to throw a big and pointy spear through his heart. 

Speaking of hearts…

Her eyes wandered to the string that connected their hearts with one another. The red string. The string that connected soulmates. The string that determined soulmates. The string that identified two individuals as soulmates. 

The string that disappeared when her Namor was taken into another world.

She grits her teeth and glares at her notes in front of her. She doesn’t want to revisit the memory.

As she scrolled through her notes from her recent lab examination of Namor, a voice interrupted her work and thoughts. 

“Excuse me.” 

The voice made her freeze in her seat. It sounded exactly like hers.

When she looks up, she’s immediately greeted by a glowing star portal and behind it was her. Another version of her. She blinks.

Your Shuri.

“Huh,” she says nonchalantly. “I should’ve known you would visit soon. But you’re too late,” She sighs as she puts down the tablet back on the table. Shuri walks over to them, carefully assessing and examining the mirror in front of her. Her other version looks at her warily. “He’s not here.” 

Her words earned her a crumpled and horrified expression from her counterpart. She pitied her.

“When was he last there?” The other Shuri asks with slumped shoulders and a frown. She almost wanted to laugh at her. Would the sound wake up the comatose Namor behind her? He did always say he loved her laugh. 

She glances behind her to look at the sleeping man on the bed. He has been like that for a week since he appeared and it worried her to no end, but there was no explanation that could be seen through her examination. And if it were magic, she couldn’t get ahold of Strange and this ‘Ancient One’. 

A sigh leaves her mouth again. “He was here a week ago,” she says, shaking herself out of her thoughts. She crouches– the portal had been on the floor and it was hard having to look down. 

“My fishman hasn’t awakened ever since he got back. I’m getting worried but I’m sure you’re also worried.”

Her other version did look worried but she gets a slight shock when the other woman clicks her tongue in annoyance and crosses her arms with one another under her chest. She looks away and Shuri notes the apprehension and the way she looked uncomfortable with her words. 

“Me? Worried? I am only doing this because Attuma and Namora asked for my help. If it were up to me, I would have left him.”

Really, she shouldn’t judge. The alternate version of her looked similar to her and if she wasn’t the smartest person in Wakanda, she wouldn’t have the idea that they had the same history with the same fishman. The other woman’s words garnered a laugh from her– she couldn’t help it, they were alike despite being in different universes. 

And, from the other Namor’s confusion with soulmates, she was sure, in their world, there were no such things as soulmates. Which was still a surprising thing to process. “Alright, alright,” she laughs, failing to stifle it. “I get it. You’re still at that stage.”

This only makes the other Shuri look furious. 

Shuri didn’t have the time to assess the other’s feelings because as soon as her eyes picked up a shift from the bed and a groan, she stood up. She strides toward the chair she sat on, and holds the man’s hand, staring. Their string was glowing bright red, and she feels relieved, even for just a bit.

He was still in the process of waking up and Shuri tried to look over. She already has looked over his body for any injuries and scanned him for any underlying injuries underneath his skin. There was none but as she looked at the groaning man, who was trying to sit up, she could only feel worry and concern wash over her. 

She hates feeling worried because it always takes her back to her brother’s death. 

“Hey,” she whispers, sighing at the sight of the man. Despite being asleep for a week, he doesn’t look rested at all. Namor flinches at her touch when she reaches to hold his shoulder, to guide him to sit up. It saddens her– because she doesn’t know what he went through, but as she lets herself think about it… It should have only been two days since he was gone. Like the other Namor. It makes her frown. 

At the reminder of their guests, she says, “I know you just woke up but there’s some people here that need to talk to you.”

She really didn’t want to entertain their audience right now, but they wouldn’t go away until they had at least an answer. Namor cracked an eye open, narrowing it as they stared at one another. This only prompted her to card her fingers through his hair again.

“Shuri?” He croaks out, attempting to sit up on his own. 

Shuri smiles. It was supposed to be reassuring the man, but it was more for her, she realized. She helps him sit up and receives no complaint from him. Instead, he leans into her touch and Shuri feels her heart break a little bit seeing her… fishman look so weak. She doesn't know what happened to him when he was in another universe, but he hasn’t sustained injuries so Shuri had to chalk it up to exhaustion.

“Yes,” she lowers her voice. She knows how sensitive his senses get sometimes. “It’s me.”

He coughs.  “My Shuri?”

His words make her wonder. “Yes,” she answers, nonetheless. She also laughs. “It’s me. Yours. And there are people who need to talk to you.” Her eyes skidded over to the portal. “Don’t freak out, okay?”

She watches Namor, whose eyes follow her gaze. 

Surprise colors her face when Namor’s face hardens and his soft and confused gaze turns into a glare. A glare that’s directed to the alternate version of her. Now it was her turn to feel confused, especially when the man settled a hand in front of her, as if shielding her from the multiversal travellers in front of them. 

“Another Shuri?” Namor asks, coldness seeping through his words. “Why are you here?” He demands from them. 

“I’m looking for Namor,” her other version says just as firmly. It was a bit amusing watching a mirror of her doing the same face she does, that she can admit at least. “He has been in your world. And I need to know how he disappeared.”

The other Shuri sounds desperate and Shuri understands her. She might not have shown her desperation when she spent time with the other Namor, though their first meeting could definitely be called that – she did attack the other Namor. 

A firm grip around her waist brings her out of her thoughts. Namor was holding her closer, as if he wanted to melt her onto him. Confused at the sudden protectiveness, she’s about to ask when her Namor speaks. 

“We can’t escape the call,” her Namor whispers, hiding his face in the space between her neck and shoulder. “Your Namor must be there. With her.” She has no idea what he means, and it seems like her counterpart was in the same boat. 

Curious at his answer, the other Shuri asks, “What? Who?”

She feels Namor shaking his head in refusal. His hair tickles her neck and his overgrown beard is brushing on her collarbone– uncomfortable, but bearable. She’ll have to talk him into shaving it. Soon. “Hey,” she nudges him, holding his face in her hands and making him face her. Despite the proximity of their faces, Namor has his eyes averted. “You have to tell them.”

Namor shakes his head again, this time, hissing. “Leave,” Namor commands, his fangs popping out. “Leave us be.”

Surprised at the sudden animosity, their guests quickly close the portal and it leaves Shuri staring at her Namor, bewildered.

Namor tries to bury his face on her chest but she yanks her hand from his hold and jerks away. Their string follows her action.

This catches his attention and he stares at her like a confused puppy. 

Hesitant, Shuri speaks, “I… I know you can be violent and aggressive, but I do not understand why you had to treat the other me like that. What happened? Who…” Shuri gulps. Hurt you, she wants to say, but Namor hasn’t sustained any injuries inside and out– but he has a shadowed expression, one that screams pain. 

“Please,” she pleads because she’s not above begging. Namor turns away from her touch. “Please. You must tell me. What happened when you were in another dimension?”

Namor shakes his head furiously. “Can’t. Can’t tell you.” Namor finally wraps his arms around her and Shuri lets him pull her. “Not now. Just want you. Haven’t felt you.”

The words strike her suddenly. It was true, for the both of them. Shuri holds him and feels her heart beating dangerously fast. “Me too,” she whispers into his hair. “I… I couldn’t feel it– you. I couldn’t feel our link. When you disappeared, I was…” She shivered at the memory. She hated it. 

When he had been sucked into another world, she woke up from her sleep like she had a nightmare. Her chest and her entire body felt empty, and she couldn’t see the red string that connected both of their hearts. She immediately thought something had happened to him– death was in her mind and she had panicked.

Thinking of Nakia’s stringless heart, she immediately blew into the shell. 

Surely the Talokanils would tell them if their leader was dead, right?

When the other Namor appeared and the string was still nowhere to be found, she was glad she brought her suit with her. While the man was dodging her attacks, she couldn’t really be blamed for her going feral.

She felt empty. And she never wanted to feel like that ever again.

A hand wiping her cheek startles her. 

“In amado,” Namor murmurs and kisses her cheek. “I’m sorry,” his head thunks on her shoulder, heavy and feverish.

“Not your fault,” Shuri says back and runs a hand through his hair. “It just… It felt really horrible. I kept my pretenses up when the other Namor was here, but the emptiness… It almost swallowed me whole. I was so glad when you appeared again. And the string… was it the same for you?”

Namor gulps and faintly nods. “Yes. The string disappeared and my chest,” he grabs his chest, glaring at it with such pain that Shuri wants to hold him tighter, closer to herself. “Loneliness,” he says, quietly. “That is what it meant to not have the string. To not have you.”

But you met me, Shuri almost says. You met another me.

Shuri shakes her head. Namor said he’ll tell her some other time. The least she could do is respect that.

In the silence, she flinches in surprise when Namor breaks it. 

“I remember when I first met you,” Namor says and Shuri is thrown back to their first, and frankly, horrible meeting.

Shuri snorts. “I remember, too. But tell me anyway.”

Namor smiles into her neck, biting a bit of the skin there. Shuri yelps and pulls away slightly to glare at the man smiling mischievously at her. 

“I remember coming out of the water–”

“Oh, yes. You were very wet.”

Shuri held her spear loosely, glancing back and forth behind her and the still water of the lake in front of her. Her mother had long gone back to the capital city, leaving her and the fading fire behind. She didn’t mind, since it gave her the quietness she hasn’t had since her brother died. Shuri looked around but without enhanced senses like a panther, her senses were useless.

Until the water rippled. There, a man comes flying out, quiet, unlike the wings on his feet. 

Her heart beat faster and she held her spear tightly. “Who–”

That was when she noticed her heart string following and leading to the man.

“It was amazing,” the man whispers and kisses her neck. Shuri shivers at his breath. “I never had a heartstring,” Shuri knew. She knew when she came to his abode. He had already told this story to her. “So when it appeared less than three decades ago… I was excited.”

“I tried following the string,” Namor laughs. “But it was no use. It would lead me astray at times. Or sometimes, it would go on forever. But that moment..” Namor looks up at her and Shuri finds that she really, really likes his eyes– “When I saw you there. I knew. I knew it was the right time.”

Namor sighs and lays on his back this time which gives her the chance to caress his face. “When I finally saw you… I couldn’t help but drop to my knees.”

Shuri feels her cheeks burn. He did drop on his knees the first time they met.

“In ki'ichkelem puksik'al,” The mysterious man spoke in a foreign language, and with every word, he took a step. Shuri held the spear, pointing it at him. She may not have the senses of the panther, but she has had lessons from both Nakia and Okoye. That would be enough, right?

Every time the man took a step forward, she took a step back. She wondered how fast she could be to outrun the man. Bast damn it, she had cursed. She should have never given her mama her earrings.

When the man stopped, Shuri thought he finally regained his senses and would chase her. Only to flinch in surprise when the man dropped to his knees right in front of her.

Her eyes widened.

“My heart,” the man whispered and let her point the spear on his throat. He smiled and Shuri wondered what kind of man he was to smile with a sharp object near his throat. “My one.”

Shuri shivered. But it was not because of the cold.

“My heart,” Shuri breathes out and in an instant, Namor’s eyes lays upon her, lit ablaze. “My one.”

Namor beams and clasps his hand around hers, bringing it to his lips. “That’s right,” he rasps, pressing his lips onto her palm. “Yours, mine.”

Shuri laughs as he presses her into the bed.

He also laughs silently. 

“Shuri,” he whispers. “Make me promise.”

She tilts her head at the words. Promise? Him? “Make you promise? Isn’t that a bit unusual?”

“Yes, well,” Namor shrugs one shoulder, appearing to be nonchalant but Shuri can tell from his tense shoulders that the conversation was about to be serious. Shuri frowns. “We are quite the unusual couple.”

Her mother’s face flashes in her mind and she takes a deep breath.

“Yes,” she agrees willingly. “We are.”

“Make me promise you. That when you…” Namor breathes harshly, hiding his face in the crook of her neck. Shuri shivers when his beard presses into her skin. He always did like putting his head in between her shoulder and neck, though she never really knew why. “When you…” If Shuri was to lean a bit backward, she was sure she would see Namor’s furrowed eyebrows.

Namor takes another breath. “When you… disappear,” he manages to choke out and Shuri grips her hand around his head. 

They were not an unusual couple. They were cursed, Shuri was sure. Namor would always be Ramonda’s killer, same as the truth of him being her soulmate. Shuri would always be a mortal, same as the truth of Namor being an immortal.

Shuri shuts her eyes tightly. “Yeah?” She croaks out.

“Make me promise you,” he growls and Shuri laughs wetly. The only reason he was growling was because he was close to crying. Shuri could feel it in their bond. Placing a calming hand on his heart, he continues, “Make me promise you that when you disappear from this world, that when you join your ancestors… I shall not burn the world.”

Her breath leaves her for a moment. 

She has had fleeting thoughts about it– what would it mean for Namor to live without a soulmate after experiencing one. 

The world on fire, the sky blue like the clear waters.

She places a hand on top of his. “Promise me,” she says firmly, because it would not make sense if she were to make it soft– “Promise me that when I am dead, you will try to be happy. You will give it your all to be happy. You will not burn the world, but you will make it through until you die and see me again.”

Namor chokes out a laugh. He seems happy at least. His shoulders are no longer tense and he drops his body on hers. She could take it– she was the Black Panther, after all. “Yes,” he answers, though a bit muffled, “I promise you, my heart.”

Silence settles around them but Shuri finds herself not wanting to talk. Namor will tell her when he’s ready and until then, she will soothe his fears and appease his heart.

Namor is the one who breaks the silence. “When is the wedding?”

Shuri clicks her tongue at the reminder. “Tomorrow.”

Namor pushes himself up quickly. “Have I been gone that long?”

Too long, she longs to say, but her mouth says otherwise. “Yes. And it’s all your fault I’m getting married tomorrow.”

Namor hums and stares directly at her. “Have you ever been whisked away from your own wedding, princess?”

A grin slowly forms on her lips. “No, I can’t say I have. It would be treacherous to have the bride be stolen away in front of Bast.”

Her witty remark has him chuckling and pressing chaste kisses on her lips. “I think Chaac can distract her enough to give us time.”

His touch lights a fire in her veins and she becomes warm, tingling and trembling out of excitement. “Well. Perhaps then you can marry me after.”

His eyes darken and his hands grip the sides of her waist. A promise. “You will come out a bride tomorrow, my queen. That, you can look forward to.”

She surges up to catch his lips. I can’t wait, her passionate kiss conveys.

Their heartstrings glow, but neither of them notice.

Chapter Text

Namor thought that the only reason he would swim this fast was that if there ever was an attack on Talokan. Or if they were found and they had to kill the witnesses. Or if someone was trying to steal their vibranium once again. Somehow, and funnily enough, those weren’t the reasons why he was swimming so fast this time. This time, it was not about his home nor the resources. This time, it was about a panther.

He doesn’t bother greeting the new king of Wakanda when he breaks the surface. “Where is she?”

The big man, who had been waiting patiently for him with a frown, says, “She would not be disturbed.”

At the same time, a familiar warrior steps forward with furrowed eyebrows and a scowl. “She does not need you,” she seethes, marching up to him dramatically. If Namor had any time for her dramatics, he would have entertained her words.  

“She is asking for me,” Namor snarls, settling down on the ground and coming face to face with the warrior who was bold enough to step in front of him. “Why do you cause her suffering?”

Miffed by his remark, she steps back but the scowl isn’t leaving any time soon nor her displeasure. “You are but a means to an end. You do not own her,” The warrior hisses with her head held high. The new king of Wakanda only sighs at their interaction, not adding to the fire. If it were any other person, Namor would have had them jailed. Or if he was feeling up to it, beheaded. 

Namor hadn’t really found himself to be possessive, but if it was about her…

Namor bares his fangs. She is most certainly his . Fate and biology have both deemed it.

“Take me to her,” he demands with a guttural growl. Hesitant, the king and his warrior women walk in front of him. They are too slow– but he thinks, if he were to fly over Wakanda right now, he would be shot down and detained, so he takes the slow pace even if the serpent inside him is moving uneasily and impatiently.

By the time they’ve reached the palace, he’s itching to switch forms and storm inside. 

When they arrive in front of Shuri’s door, he feels the itch become stronger and his fangs elongate even more. His eyes, no doubt, are a shade of red and his pupils have turned into slits. He could feel and hear himself hiss– and an answering purr came from the inside.

Before he could bust down the door, the big king stops him with a hand on his chest. Immediately, he snaps his fangs at him, threatening. 

The man stands his ground and glares. Namor has to give him credit for that. “I cannot command your biology nor your entwined fate with hers,” he rumbles calmly, but his eyes flash with certain protectiveness when he brings up Shuri. Namor belatedly realizes it is not of anything romantic– but something akin to familial, like how he would protect Namora and Attuma from anything that came from the surface world.

“But you leave by sunrise. If you ever hurt her, know, Aj K’uk’ulkan. I am capable of destruction.”

He has no doubt Wakanda can. But he also has no doubt Talokan can protect themselves, so he doesn’t feel the least bit threatened by the new king of Wakanda. He doesn’t smirk even though he wants to, but he concedes. “I would never hurt her,” he says with a lisp, his fangs getting in the way of speaking. “She’s my fated one.”

The king assesses him before nodding towards to one of the warrior women. They stomp their spears on the ground and talk to someone– he’s not really sure who it is, but the doors open and the smell of Shuri wafts through the hall.

The king shoots him another look. He steps inside without looking at him and is immediately greeted by Shuri’s whimpers. His sense of smell is better than any one’s and though Shuri has never smelled like this, even when she was in his home, he delights in her enticing smell. His eyes would have looked around but it immediately snaps to the shivering clump on the bed.

He takes one step on the carpeted floor before he hears her voice. 

“Go away,” she says, almost nasally and out of breath. “I don’t need you.”

He continues to advance. “No, you probably don’t,” Namor says. As far as he knows, their bond wouldn’t kill any of them, but their need is far stronger than their feelings for one another. “But your panther does.”

His body stills when he hears a quiet sob underneath the pile of blankets. 

“I hate you,” Shuri cries inside the blanket and his heart aches. “I hate you.”

No, you don’t, Namor almost says smugly as he smells her want become stronger in the air. “That may be so,” he starts and slowly sits on the bed, the bed dipping to make way for his weight. “But your–” –heart– “ –panther screams for me.”

Fast as lightning, his fated one grabs him by the shoulders and shoves him on the bed, straddling him with a growl of her own. She hisses and snaps her fangs at him, but he lays still and calmly, awed at the woman’s strength and speed. Her eyes are glinting with gold and black slits.

“And that will be your purpose,” she growls, digging her claws deeper around his throat. “To please me.”

I would want nothing else, he almost says. But he is a God, and he does not bow to the whims of any mortal. “So be it,” he manages to choke out before the hand gripping his throat disappears and his lips meet hers in a clashing kiss, their teeth clacking.

He’s pretty sure he’s nipped her lips when the taste of blood is on his tongue. The woman doesn’t seem to mind and kisses him even more fervently while breathing harshly. His hands found their place around her waist and she startled at the touch, pulling back from their kiss. Namor breathes, getting a good look at Shuri for the first time.

She has sleeping clothes from what he gathers. It’s sheer and thin, and she’s naked underneath it. His cock is straining his shorts and he needs to kiss the woman above him or he’ll disintegrate right then and there. 

Unable to help it, he surges up and kisses her passionately, startling her even more. Shuri whimpers into the kiss, hesitantly kissing back. Namor holds the back of her head before Shuri places a hand on his chest and pushes him back roughly on the bed again.

“This is my pleasure,” Shuri growls, trying for intimidation but Namor’s lips quirk at how broken she sounds from just kissing. 

“Of course,” his hands caress the inside of her thighs. “Princess.”

Her lips twist dissatisfaction. She’s shuffling, getting closer and closer until Namor’s face to face with her pelvis. 

Namor raises an eyebrow up at her. Shuri scowls, flustered even when she demands, “Please me.”

He smirks. “I shall.”

As soon as he lifts the thin clothing– his mouth latches itself on her cunt. She jerks, almost hitting his arm but then her hand grips his hair and he hums. He licks outside and a pleased rumble comes from his chest. She’s wet, wetter than a normal human but then again, he grins, she wasn’t normal, neither of them were.

Once he gets a taste, he starts to devour.  He eats like a man starved of his favorite food. Shuri’s gasping and crumpling before him and if he peeks, he knows the woman has her eyes lidded, full of lust and pleasure. That’s enough for him to keep going.

He sucks on her clit briefly, delighting in the whine that comes out of Shuri’s mouth when he does. He slurps the slick and juices, licking his lips. She tastes heavenly, just as she did a month ago. When he pokes his tongue inside, Shuri bends over and takes a hold onto the headboard. The action urges him on more than ever.

His fingers join inside her with his tongue one by one. She keens, panting and thrusting her cunt forward, making his fingers go deeper.

Feeling dazed and heady from Shuri’s pleasure, he starts to earnestly move his fingers in and out. Shuri hasn’t stopped gasping and moaning, whining when he goes slow and eagerly pushes back to his fingers when he goes faster. It’s both amusing and sexy to see the woman who has defeated him to be reduced in a whimpering state.

But not one second does she beg.

That’s alright. Namor has time.

He finds the bundle of nerves and starts attacking it with his fingers, smugly grinning at the shiver and the sharp intake of breath from the woman on top of him. He puts his mouth to use once again, licking around her labia and licking her clit. It only elicits more noise from her and she starts to fall forward, sloppily thrusting and wailing. 

“Namor–” is the first word she says between all her gasps and moans. “Namor!” The moment she climaxes, they both hear the headboard break. 

It’s made of vibranium.

Namor grins and licks her cum, making sure not to waste any drop.

Shuri whines whether from embarrassment or from the extra stimulation, Namor’s not really sure.

Her grip on his hair tightens and if he were any mortal man, his neck would have snapped with her strong push. 

She shifts position, hissing. “Let’s finish this.”

Namor hums, delighting in watching her taking his cock out of the confines of his shorts.

Shuri is unfazed by his size and he fondly remembers the way her eyes widened back in the caves. Shuri glares at him, as if she knows what he’s thinking about, before she lifts a leg. Confused, Namor watches as Shuri changes position and now, her back and ass were facing him.

Namor stares and cautiously runs a hand over her spine, going down to her ass and inside her wet thighs. 

Shuri shivers at the touch and lifts herself up, grabbing his cock which brings him out of his stupor. 

“Don’t wanna face you,” she hisses menacingly, and it only amuses him. She’s explaining and if Namor wasn’t so turned on, he would have laughed. 

“Alright,” he concedes and watches intently as his cock disappears inside her cunt. He shuts his eyes tightly, biting his lip. He refuses to finish inside of her without actually being inside of her– like a teenage boy. He grits his teeth at the tightness and briefly, he wonders if she’s taken a lover from their month apart.

The thought has him thrusting up, earning a yelp-like moan from his fated one. Shuri gasps when the entirety of him is buried inside her. Inside her, it’s warm and tight and perfect. If he didn’t have Chaac as a God, he would worship Shuri instead. He groans and unconsciously thrusts up once again and Shuri whimpers.

Shuri seems frozen in position and Namor waits it out, despite wanting to flip them over and have his way with her. 

She lifts herself up slowly with shaking legs at the side of his waist and shaking arms gripping his legs. When she drops down, she bends forward, gasping.

He wraps his hands around her waist, willing all his patience and power into waiting. 

“Good, princess?” He rumbles, feeling his feathers coming out and his tail appearing. Just in time, when Shuri pushes herself up, she has ears on top of her head as well as a tail swishing stiffly behind her.

Shuri doesn’t answer him. Not that he was expecting one. She starts a pace, slow and deliberate in her movements. The moment she gains courage, he starts moaning loudly. Her walls hold him tightly, as if they didn’t want to let him go. His hands grip her waist harder, guiding her movement. 

Shuri starts to go faster, chasing her own pleasure and Namor doesn’t mind. It’s pleasurable to him, too, and Namor badly wants her to go faster.

“Namor,” she sobs out after dropping on his cock harshly. Namor groaned, meeting the thrust with his hips. “Namor.”

He manages to open his eyes and finds his own reflection looking back at him. The fire in his gut flares up. “Is that why you preferred this position, princess?”

“Wha–?” Shuri’s confused whimper makes him hold her waist and drag his knees closer, putting his heels on the bed. He thrusts up roughly and Shuri loudly moans. She looks glorious as she does it, with her cunt connected to his cock being exposed on the mirror in front of them. Her nipples are hard and her breasts look enticing– it makes him feel hungry.

“Namor!” Shuri screams after one particularly hard thrust while he grabs her tail. He decides to go faster, watching as Shuri falls apart.

He curses under his breath. Her walls are tightening, signalling her soon climax. And he’s close, too, if she continues to become tighter. 

He’s tired of looking at the mirror. 

He grabs one of her legs and throws it over him, rearranging her on top of him. Shuri yelps at the rough treatment and at the sudden disappearance of his cock inside her. Shuri grabs a hold onto his chest. They’re back in their original position but this time, it’s easier for him to hold her waist and thrust upwards.

Shuri throws back her head when he enters her again in one fluid motion. She starts bouncing, meeting each of his thrusts and he can’t close his eyes– not when Shuri looks like a goddess on top of him, reaching the peak of her pleasure. 

Shuri starts murmuring his name, begging. Namor grins with his sharp fangs. “Namor, Namor. Please, please, please. Please.”

“As you wish, princess.”

Namor goes faster, throwing his head back on the pillow. Her walls tighten and the coil in his gut does too. 

“Inside,” Shuri gasps out when he takes one nipple in his mouth. “Please, please. Namor.”

Namor growls, inhuman. “Take what you want from me, princess.”

Shuri sobs and digs her claws into his shoulders, bouncing desperately. Her tail’s flicking back and forth behind her and her ears are twitching furiously. Namor was sure that if he weren’t suspended on his back on the bed, his tail would be swishing happily. 

“Chaac,” he suddenly groans out and is surprised by the hand around his throat. Shuri’s eyes are flashing gold, angry and possessive.

“There is no Chaac here,” she hisses, biting his lips and drawing blood. He kisses her all the same. “Shuri.”

Namor groans louder. “Shuri.”

“Yes, yes, yes,” Shuri pleads.

With one last thrust, Namor cums inside her. Namor feels the relief and satisfaction. It will catch, he thinks as he tightens his grip around her waist, It will catch. It seems evil to wish such a thing, but as Shuri falls on him, he doesn’t care. He keeps them connected, making sure most of his cum stays inside. 

For a moment, their breathing and pants can only be heard in the silent room.

Namor tries to make conversation. “Your ears have come out.”

Shuri grumbles. “Your feathers are tickling me.”

Namor huffs a laugh and wraps an arm around her back. Her tail is swishing languidly behind her and he knows she’s satisfied. For now. He starts caressing her back, running his fingertips back and forth. Purrs fill the room and he smiles into her hair. 

“Stay,” Shuri whispers. If Namor didn’t have enhanced hearing, he wouldn’t have caught it. “Stay until this ends.”

Namor hums, satisfied and smug. “Of course, princess.”