Chapter Text
“You’re really going back to Wakanda tomorrow, Auntie?”
Shuri offers Toussaint some peanut brittle from the container. It has been a comforting few months, but it’s time to go home.
“Yeah. I’m sure there are some people who’ve missed me. Besides, there’s a plane I was working on before I came here that I really want to fly.”
Toussaint grins, it’s a crooked, adorable thing. “A plane!? Can I ride in it, too?”
The boat rocks them gently along the waves. They have nowhere to be and all the time to get there. Shuri listens to the sound of seagulls before replying to her nephew.
“Maybe one day, when your mother is ready to have you visit. When that day comes, Wakanda will welcome you with open arms.”
At least, that’s what she hopes. M’Baku might get upset knowing there’s a true successor to the throne. She smiles and shakes her head at the thought of that man. He’s someone she didn’t expect to miss during her long-term vacation.
She’s about to enjoy more of her snack when a giant wave rocks the boat. Shuri clings to Toussaint with one arm to keep him anchored and uses the other to hold onto the side. The source of the sudden movement reveals itself.
Riding on top of an orca is none other than Talokan’s god.
They make eye contact at the same time, their eyebrows scrunched in confusion and then pulled into anger.
“What’re you doing here!?” Shuri stands up and blocks Toussaint from Namor. “Are you stalking me!?”
“ Me ? What about you? ” He points a finger at her as if there’s someone else but them out here. “You’re a long way from Wakanda!”
Her body becomes covered in her Black Panther suit and she hears her nephew cheering behind her. Even though their nations have an alliance, she has a hard time trusting him. With Toussaint here, she’s even more on edge.
“You need to head right on back to Talokan or else I’ll dry you out again!”
Namor has the whale move to a safer distance before he yells out, “Where do you think I’m going!?”
“You look lost to me!”
“I live here!”
Her eyes narrow. “What do you mean?”
He crosses his arms over his thick chest. “Do you not care enough about your allies that you didn’t do some geographical research? Talokan is located in the Puerto Rico Trench. This is simply my route to go home. I wouldn’t have come above water if it wasn’t for someone polluting.”
When he holds up an empty bag of chips, Shuri looks over her shoulder and down at Toussaint.
“The wind blew it,” he whispers. “It flew away too fast. Is he going to beat us up?”
“No, I wouldn’t allow that,” she whispers back and then sets her scorching glare back on Namor and his orca. “That was an accident. Give it to me, and I’ll dispose of it properly.”
His smirk is one of satisfaction, pleased that she’s owning up to it. He flies from the orca to the little wooden boat. When he stands in the middle, it shakes a bit and Toussaint holds onto Shuri’s legs, both to hide and keep himself from going overboard.
When Shuri reaches for the bag, Namor squeezes her hand with the plastic in between their touch.
“You should’ve told me you were here, princess. We could’ve…talked.”
Her mask dissolves so he can see her face and know she’s absolutely not thrilled to be seeing him again. “Unless it’s for diplomatic purposes, I have no reason to talk with you.” She pulls her hand away, clutching the wrapper. “You won’t need to worry about seeing me here again, anyway. I’m going back to Wakanda tomorrow.”
“Why are you even here? Who’s that boy behind you? You never told me you had a son.”
“He’s not my son, he’s- it doesn’t matter to you who he is! Get back on your orca and go home!”
“Hi,” Toussaint says shyly from behind his aunt. Before Shuri can do anything about it, he steps out to the side to get a full look at the Feathered Serpent God. “Are your necklaces heavy? They look like they’re heavy. If they’re heavy, you’re strong, huh?”
When Namor flashes a grin at him, Shuri’s overprotectiveness kicks in. She puts her hand on her nephew’s thin shoulder and looks directly into Namor’s dark eyes. “The almighty K’uk’ulkan does not have time to talk, isn’t that right?”
“Oh, princess. ” He touches his chest and staggers back a bit dramatically. “You need to give me a warning of some sort before calling me that.”
She can’t tell if he’s joking or not, and although the silky voice he used when calling her ‘princess’ catches her off guard, she doesn’t show it.
“I’ll call you something else if you don’t leave me alone.”
He speaks to Toussaint without looking away from her. There’s something lethal in his eyes, sending a shiver down her spine as it reminds her of when his spear penetrated her skin. “Young man, do you mind if I take your auntie into the sky with me real quick?”
Auntie!?
How does he know that!? Just a minute ago he was calling Toussaint her son!
She’s too stuck on the whole auntie thing to worry about the last part of his question - until she’s lifted off her feet. She screams and looks down at Toussaint, who is waving excitedly. Her hands cling to Namor’s neck while he holds her hips against him. They hover above the boat where Shuri continues to scream.
“Put me down! Now! He can’t be alone on that boat!”
“He’s not alone. Kaaye’ is with him.”
She’s had enough. “Who!?”
She follows his gaze. He’s commanding the orca to move close to the boat and do tricks for the Toussaint. As the orca rotates like a rotisserie chicken and the child giggles, Shuri looks at Namor with lowered eyelids.
“I can’t believe you’re doing this.”
“What? I communicate telepathically with sea creatures. Were you expecting me to make whale noises?”
“...That’s not what I was talking about!” She squirms in his tight hold. She can easily claw at his face and free herself, but if he lets go now, there’s a chance she’ll land in the water and she’s not in the mood to swim. “Why’d you bring me up here!?”
During her maneuvering, her hands slid from his neck to his glistening chest. She stares at his nipples, wide-eyed, then back at that scruffy face.
And why is he holding her so…intimately?
“What else would you call me?”
His mouth is dangerously close to her own and they’re breathing in the same air. She feels him hardening against her, and suddenly her brain short circuits. All she can squawk out is a less-than-noble, “Huh?”
“You said you’d call me something else if I didn’t leave you alone. What else would you call me?” He smirks devilishly when she can’t get out a coherent word. “Hm? What’s the matter? Cat got your tongue now that you’re being confronted?”
Beautiful idiot.
That’s what she wants to call him, but she knows it’ll only inflate his already big ego.
“Loser,” she says coldly. “That’s what you are. A loser. You yielded to me, therefore you need to listen to me. Put me down, Namor.”
He has the nerve to laugh, then smiles. “You know this entire time, I thought I was imagining your voice. I heard you say a lot of things, a lot of interesting things.”
This isn’t enjoyable in the slightest. Her nephew is down below her being entertained by a damn orca and she’s pressed against her nemesis’s erection. Not only that, but now she feels violated knowing those stupid ears were listening to her without her permission. Could this get any worse?
“I never said anything that would interest you, I’m sure.”
He moves his lips to her ear. “Did you or did you not moan my name one night?”
When all she can do is release some sort of strangled noise, he laughs cruelly and starts lowering them back down to the boat. Once her feet are planted, he jumps into the water before anyone can see what Shuri felt rubbing against her. The orca follows him under and they’re gone as quickly as they had arrived.
Shuri stomps her foot against the wood and groans into her hands. Toussaint tugs on the bottom of her black hoodie.
“Auntie? That was the man you fought, yes?”
She has to keep herself together for the sake of her nephew. She can scream into a pillow and punch it repeatedly later.
“That’s right. You’ll never meet a more obnoxious person in your life.”
“He seems nice. I think he likes you.”
“He only likes himself, Toussaint.” She keeps her next thought to herself. Despite being a god, Namor is still a man, and that erection was simply his hormones at play. He probably hasn’t rubbed one out in a while. The image of him stroking his penis while sitting in his hut strikes her mind uninvitingly and she clears her throat. “Do you want to go build sandcastles?”
“Yeah!”
As Shuri squats down and turns on the motor, she stares off at the vast ocean and thinks about him again. There might have been one night when Toussaint and Nakia were gone and she was left alone. She might have touched herself to thoughts of men, including Namor. Alright, maybe it was only Namor. But she certainly didn’t moan his name.
Thinking about him too much works her up. She despises that he still has that power over her. The boat starts pushing toward the shore, and she’s leaving the ocean behind. Come tomorrow, she’ll be in Wakanda and far away from Namor and his ears. Maybe then, she’ll have peace.
A couple of days have come and gone since he encountered the Black Panther out at sea. He can’t lie to himself; it was disappointing knowing she wasn’t out there actively seeking for him. She didn’t even know they were that close. They were basically neighbors. If she were nice, she could’ve invited him over for a nice cup of xocolātl and sweet tamales.
But what he simply cannot get over is that her voice wasn’t a figment of his imagination this entire time. He has been hearing her, every single word uttered from those pretty lips. He has been yearning for another touch, another scratch, another anything from her for so long that he thought he was going mad.
No.
She has been here the entire time, on the surface, thinking about him , too.
He hasn’t heard her voice since then. She’s in Wakanda, much further but not far enough to keep him away. He taps his fingers against his table. Holding her as close as he did when there wasn’t any fighting involved was…pleasant. Her body is very firm, her sweet scent intoxicating, her voice as alluring as ever.
Lovely woman.
Lovely, lovely, woman, but terribly foolish.
She had to have known Talokan and Haiti were close. There had to be a reason other than her family for her to want to stay there. He wonders if that reason is him. Oh, to crush her against his body again, to confront her, to hear her say…
K’uk’ulkan.
“Namora!”
She pokes her head in. She’s wearing her red dress and not her battle outfit, yet she looks as if she’s ready to kill for Talokan. That’s why he respects her. {Yes, K’uk’ulkan?}
{I’m going on a short trip to Wakanda for…diplomatic purposes. I’ll be back in a few days.}
Namora crosses her arms and leans against his doorframe. {You’re not trying to pursue the Black Panther, are you?}
{Ta’, don’t be ridiculous. Shuri and I simply have some important matters to discuss. You’re in charge while I’m gone.}
She straightens up at that news. She always enjoys sitting on his throne when he’s away. There’s something still troubling her, though, and she stands in front of her god when he tries to exit the hut.
{You need to be careful around those Wakandan women. I believe they might practice witchcraft. Attuma has been under a spell since that day we fought on the bridge. I catch him dancing alone sometimes and saying that warrior’s name.}
{I can assure you they are not witches, but perhaps Attuma needs a medical examination. That warrior did toss him into the water harshly. His brain may have gotten knocked around.}
Namora nods, and Namor presses his forehead against hers before leaving.
He enjoys traveling long distances by himself. It gives him a chance to think, and most of those thoughts are about Shuri. That’s how it has been since the night he first met her on that beach with the queen. Every time he had her right where he wanted, someone had to get in the way. She spent quality time with that woman who murdered two Talokanil, and he knows that was her son Shuri was on the boat with. He was teasing when he asked if the boy belonged to the princess because the idea of her being a mother is undeniably irresistible. He wants to make her one.
But that’s not what this talk is going to be about.
He wants to have a frank and earnest discussion about where they stand. He’s well aware he killed her mother, etcetera, etcetera, but he wonders if there’s a sliver of forgiveness he can coax out of her without actually having to apologize.
He’s over halfway to Wakanda now. He spots a whale and her baby swimming side by side together and has no choice but to stop and admire them. It’s always a beautiful sight to behold. Sometimes, he has seen mother whales adopt other babies when something has happened to the original parent. He sighs contently, watching them gracefully move when a horrid sound from above frightens them. Namor senses the fright in the animals and clenches his fists. Who dares disturb their peace in the middle of nowhere like this?
He pushes himself upward, breaks through the water, and flies to the night sky. He hears the sound again. It’s some sort of jet plane, but he can’t seem to locate it. He flies a little higher and it’s the same thing; a loud noise and unable to see what’s making it. It’s getting louder, and he feels it’s right behind him. Before he can turn around, something strikes him in the back of the head.
“Oh, shit…”
Oh, shit!
Shuri’s hands grip the steering wheel tightly after coming to a screeching halt.
Oh, shit!
“Oh, Bast, no…”
She’s pretty sure of who she just hit with her plane. She knows no other man with back muscles like that. She glimpsed his feathered ankles before his body fell into the water. With a shaky hand, she puts the plane into reverse and backs up. The locator scans the ocean with a red light, and Shuri searches for an outline of a body on the screen.
Please don’t be dead…
She messed up real bad this time.
Okoye warned her about flying the plane in invisibility mode at night, but Shuri wanted to go as far and as fast as she wanted. She was on a joyride, having a great time, traveling at speeds adrenaline junkies can only dream of. Once again, Namor has to ruin that by dying. She’s scared that might be the case when his body doesn’t move.
Holding in her breath, she presses the button that beams Namor out of the ocean and brings him inside the plane. The portal closes and she puts the plane on autopilot before running over to the god-king. She presses her beads against his chest and yells, “Griot! What’s his condition?”
“Namor is in critical condition. He will survive, but he has suffered significant head damage. There is a high chance he has amnesia, but we won’t know for certain until he wakes up.”
“Good Bast,” Shuri groans and hangs her head. She drags Namor’s wet, unconscious body over to a bench and lays him down. She grabs a medical kit off the wall and starts cleaning the blood off his pointed ears gently. The beads have already sealed the wound on the back of his head. Once she’s done, she throws the wipes in a wastebasket and observes him again.
He looks like he’s sleeping.
He’s so…tranquil, which he won’t be when he wakes up and realizes what happened. Knowing what an extremist he is, he’ll see this as a war crime and send his army right back to Wakanda without hesitation. Part of her wishes that he has amnesia. At least that way she won’t deal with a raging lunatic.
She flies the plane back to Wakanda and throws him over her shoulder after landing. If she didn’t have the power of the Black Panther, there’d be no way she could carry him. He’s too thick with muscle.
As she makes her way to the citadel and her laboratory, she’s greeted by two people she really wasn’t hoping to see. One is going to scold her, and the other is going to not take this seriously enough.
“Child, what did I tell you about flying at night!?” Okoye tightens her blue robe. Shuri has a feeling she has been sitting by her window waiting for her plane to come in. Her large eyes notice who’s slung over her shoulder. “Is that Namor !? What’s wrong with him?”
“What did you do to Fishman?” M’Baku flicks one of Namor’s wings and Shuri kicks him. “Do you two get off on beating each other’s asses?”
The princess ignores them both as she rushes to her lap. She isn’t even sure what to do at this point besides make him comfortable and wait for him to wake up. Okoye and M’Baku watch her lay him down on the padded medical table. For everyone’s safety, she buckles him down with vibranium belts. Once she clicks the last one, she finally addresses the two observers.
“I hit him with the plane.”
M’Baku starts howling with laughter immediately while Okoye’s jaw drops. “Now why on Bast’s green earth would you do that?” The former general questions. “I thought we had an alliance with them, now you’re trying to squash him like a bug?”
“I wasn’t trying to kill him. He literally came out of nowhere. He seems to do that a lot.”
They hear a groan and jump. Namor is starting to stir. Shuri holds M’Baku’s and Okoye’s hands tightly in anticipation of what he’s going to say. Once he blinks his eyes open, his sounds turn into that of panic and his body jolts while trying to break out of the cot. Griot tells her that his heart rate is skyrocketing.
“Hey, hey, hey!” Shuri approaches him calmly after letting go of her friends. They still remain close behind her. “It’s okay. You’re safe now, but earlier this evening you hit your head really hard.”
He turns his head to her, and although his eyes remain wild, his body settles down. “Where am I?”
“You’re in my laboratory, in Wakanda.”
He pulls his eyebrows together. The word is foreign on his tongue. “Wa…kanda?”
Shuri, Okoye, and M’Baku all look at one another. The king urges Shuri to ask him something else.
“Do you know who I am?”
Namor squints as if trying to recall. Then, his expression softens much like his voice. “No.”
She almost sighs in relief. He won’t try to kill her if he can’t remember anything. She still needs to be sure if Griot’s analysis of amnesia was correct. “I’m Shuri. Do you know who you are? What your name is?”
When he can’t come up with an answer, Shuri excuses herself with a promise she’ll come right back then steps out into the hallway with Okoye and M’Baku. They can see Namor through the glass, staring at his hands.
“Well, he definitely has some sort of amnesia.”
“If we give him the pills that our pilots take after crashing and hitting their heads, it’ll fix him up quick.”
Shuri’s in agreement with Okoye. “Yes! We can throw him on the plane, pop one in his mouth, and dump him back in the ocean before it kicks in!”
“Orrrr,” M’Baku interjects. “We can keep him here for a small amount of time. The River Tribe is still making repairs after the Talokan’s attack. He can help them. He killed your mother, Shuri. Perhaps you can use Fishman as a lab assistant or anything else you need.”
“Now what made you come up with something like that, hm?” Okoye smacks his shoulder. “That’s horrible, taking advantage of someone when they’re down.”
“ Well… ” Shuri can’t believe she’s about to agree with M’Baku. She has officially gone off the deep end. “Morals aside, I don’t see why we can’t do that and give him the pill at the end. He’ll forget everything that happened after the accident and won’t try to kill us when his memory comes back.”
Okoye and M’Baku get into it, but she starts to tune them out. Namor is looking directly at her, waiting for her, silently asking for her.
“Why don’t you two go home? It’s late. I’ll keep Namor here overnight and we can discuss this further in the morning.”
Once they’re certain she’s not afraid to be alone with the Feathered Serpent God, Okoye and M’Baku leave the laboratory. Shuri goes inside to Namor and smiles as sweetly as she can at him.
“Remembering anything?”
He shakes his head and she pulls up a stool beside him. She sits and starts freeing him from the vibranium belts. When he doesn’t jump off immediately to strangle her, she knows he’s officially lost his mind.
“I know it’s a lot to take in, but I’m going to give you some basic information about yourself tonight and tomorrow I’ll tell you more. Is that okay?”
He nods and she continues.
“Your nickname is Namor, but your real name is K’uk’ulkan. You’re a…painter. You live here in Wakanda and you love helping people fix infrastructures. You love to swim and you’re a history buff.” Shuri tries to think of what else she can add. “Oh, you do everything I say because that’s the way things are around here. Is there anything specific you want to know?”
He’s trying to take it all in, but judging from that confused expression, Shuri knows it’s hard for him. She can’t imagine what it feels like to wake up in a body and have no idea who you’re supposed to be. His stomach gurgles loudly and he touches it.
“I think I’m hungry.”
“I think you are, too. Come with me to the kitchen.” Shuri laughs, then pauses. “I’m so sorry, I forgot to ask. How’s your head? The Kimoyo beads should’ve taken away the pain, but I want to be sure.”
Namor stares down at her once he’s standing close enough, but those dark eyes aren’t intense for once. They’re gentle and desperately searching for answers. “You’re a very nice woman. Are you always like this?”
Loser, that’s what you are. A loser!
She bites her lip, remembering what she called him a few days ago. She pats his chest playfully. “Of course I am. You didn’t answer my question.”
He catches her hand before it can leave him and he presses it against his skin. “I feel no pain at all. Thank you for taking care of me.”
Oh, no problem. I’m the one who knocked your block off.
She can feel his heart beating, along with the smooth muscles of his pectorals. She has never heard Namor say ‘thank you’.
“You’re welcome,” she murmurs, getting lost in those sweet eyes. She can’t believe she’s associating the word ‘sweet’ with him. “Let’s take care of that stomach now, yeah?”
He rubs his thumb across her knuckles and nods wordlessly. She’s almost hesitant to take her hand away after he caresses it so tenderly. She wants to scratch her head.
What in Bast’s name is happening right now?
She has never dealt with an amnesia patient like this before. Usually, they have an endless series of questions and an existential crisis. Namor is going through this like an ocean current - flowing all too naturally.
She opens the fridge and takes out the giant pot of githeri Okoye made earlier. Cooking is simply something Shuri has not mastered, but Namor doesn’t have to know that. She turns the stove on and puts the pot on top to warm up.
“You’re going to love this! It’s your favorite that I make for you. It’s the best stew in-”
“Shuri.”
She shudders at her name being spoken in such a gruff, low tone. When she turns around, he’s a lot closer than she expected.
“Namor?”
He’s looking her up and down. He’s got that spark back in his obsidian irises and she’s nervous he’s starting to remember everything. He is a god, after all. Healing doesn’t take long.
“Are you my atan ?”
She knows that word. She might’ve done some research for it when she heard a Talokanil child whispering it when they saw them together.
“Why would you think that I’m your wife?”
He points down and Shuri looks. Her eyes bulge almost as big as the one she sees trying to come out of his shorts.
“That’s…” She audibly gulps and struggles to look at his face again. “This isn’t the first time this has happened. I know it must do this for others-”
“The longer I stare at you, the harder it gets and the more I want you.”
“Oh…” She doesn’t know what else to say and this feeling burning up inside of her is making her feel a mixture of nauseous and something else she can’t quite put her finger on. Thrilled? Guilty? Curious? Call her crazy, but she feels like she can confide in him. She did back in the caves, but this version is easier because she knows it’ll wash away from his memory when she decides.
“Namor…that’s just your male body responding to a need. I’m not anything special.” She bites back the burn of tears. “Not to you.”
“No,” he hisses quietly, fixing her with a glare. “Don’t say that ever again. I don’t know anything about my life, but there’s something telling me you’re mine and I’m yours.” His hand rests briefly on her cheek, fingertips leaving a path of heat as they trailed away. “Gorgeous, sensual woman.”
They’re so, so close now. Shuri feels pants of breath against her face and Namor is staring at her mouth. She feels frozen. She remains frozen when Namor leans forward and slants his lips against hers. Only when his tongue plays against the seam does she melt, and her own tongue reaches out tentatively to play. He takes her invitation, pushing further into her, devouring her in the most delicate way Shuri’s ever encountered.
He pulls away slowly, leaving her to whimper.
“I’ll ask again, to be certain. Are you my atan ?”
A better woman might have said no.
But Shuri is not a better woman.
She wants to kiss him again.
“Yes. I’m your wife.”