Summary: in an alternative reality where Namor's alliance is accepted, the many meetings that come as a result prove to be more exhausting than he thought. That is, until he meets a lonely princess.
word count: 2.6k
a/n: reblogs and comments keep the story alive! enjoy!!
💌
Namor lives in Shuri's head in a series of snapshots.
He's a whisper in the hallways when they think no one's listening. A 'no' in her mother's lips when she asks to meet him, a punchline when the subject is reduced to his shorts, a shiver down the spine when they're forced to acknowledge the immensity of his army and the mysticity surrounding his very existence. He's a ghost, a phantom lying in the very mansions of her mind. And so, because she's strictly not allowed in any and all Namor-related meetings, unwelcome in any and all Namor-centered conversations, she locks herself in her lab, always with a pen in hand, tuning out the sound of her own breath and her own thoughts until all she can see and feel is equations.
There's also the strange man in the garden. The bejeweled, strange man that had opened up so easily to her, whose honesty had driven her own confessions out of her mouth. He had a very unusual smile, she had thought, but only after the heat in her cheeks had subsided. The type of smile that’s been through many ups and downs, curves and spins. The type that made her want to put it under a microscope, in bright artificial lighting, where she could dissect every ligament and every pearly white bone until she found the source of all that… pain. All that muffled, constricted pain, that seemed to have made a comfortable home for itself inside the very depths of his body. These thoughts occupied her, kept her busy and afloat, and the desire to see him again manifested in her body as she slipped past the threshold of her room, down the stairs and into the foyer, where she could hear nothing of what took place just a few feet away in the dining room. There were no clicks of silverware or twinkles of glasses, no arguing and, unsurprisingly, no laughter. It looked like an inhabited land, that place, and Shuri's heart would be inclined towards loneliness if it weren't for the soldiers standing on either side of the dining room's door, making it all too clear that she wasn't as free at night.
Alone and not alone, all at the same time.
She often thought of what T'Challa would do in situations like these. Of how different things would be. Would the doors be open, would she have a seat at the table? Would these meetings even happen at all? It's at that same time that the waters in her heart start to get murky, soiled feet as she walks away from the ache and the guilt and into something easier, softer. Soft like the wind exhaling in the open garden and the shy moonlight filtering through the clouds. Soft like thinking of that man, and like watching him stand a few feet away with his back turned, arm reached up as he gently caresses the twigs closer to the ground. It was like stepping into another world. An easier one.
“What are they saying?” She makes her way towards him, hands behind her back and body leaning forward as she poorly contains the first stages of glee.
“Hm?” He turns to look at her casually, like he already knew she was there, his hand halting and dropping by his side.
“You looked distant for a second there,” Shuri stopps right by his side, jutting her chin towards the leaves. “Did you ask them something? Did they give you an answer?”
“Well… I asked them if they could call the princess for me,” he shruggs, eyes glinting. “And lucky enough, here you are. I’m the luckiest man alive. How do I repay them?”
Shuri's eyes nearly jump out of their sockets and she braces herself against the tree trunk, completely ignoring his advances. They seemed to come out of his lips instinctively, as if he had a million of these lying around in his head, just waiting for their turn to come out. She couldn't decide if she liked it or not. Not yet, at least.
"Oh, I don't know," she shruggs, looping her arm around the trunk, fingers lingering over the bark as she walks around the tree, disappearing from his view. "My mom should be able to answer that, she's the one always telling me that I should talk more." She can hear his steps on the grass as he follows her lead around the tree and she giggles, speeding up her feet as he chases after her.
"And why don't you?"
"Hm?"
"Why don't you talk?" His voice sounds like a song, Shuri notices. Stashes it in the back of her head, stamps it with a 'to be reviewed' seal and mindlessly hopes for him to give her more material to work with. To paint a picture of who he really is. "If there's one thing that I've found, it's that nature always listens."
"Yeah?" She teases, half hoping for him not to be offended by her skepticism. "Why's that?"
"Because we are nature," he says simply, like it's a fact of life, like it's the very first thing you learn from your parents. Shuri stops in her tracks, lets him catch up to her, and tries not to turn to dust at the sight of his eyes, of his body so very close to hers, almost touching. "We all come from tree barks and soft sand and water," his eyes sparkle with the last word. Shuri holds onto that. "We always come back to it in the end, no matter how long it takes. So if you talk to the bark…" she watches as his long fingers run over the indentations on the dark surface of the tree, drawing a pattern, "and if you listen to the leaves, they might not have much to say. But they will listen. Because they have felt this pain, too."
There are sudden shooting stars all over Shuri's vision, and it takes her a moment too long to realize that her eyes are teary, that the stars are just the lightning amplified by the water. He doesn't say a word.
"I find it hard to believe that anybody in this world has ever felt this much pain," her voice is heavy and laced with tears as she laughs, and her hand runs to her chest instantly, pressing hard as if to hold everything down, to stop her heart from spilling onto the ground, from leaving her body forever. "Sometimes I feel…. I feel as though this loneliness will eat away at my insides until there's nothing left. And this guilt, and this ache, if I talk about it I'll never be quiet. I'll never go silent ever again. How can the trees, and the bark, and the butterflies and the air ever understand? How can anybody?" Shuri's voice has grown in pitch, breaking at every octave and sending jolts of electricity down her spine, her entire body turning into something she doesn't recognize, something that scowls at him and at the way the softness never leaves his eyes. "When it's my fault?"
“One day,” He raises his arm up to her cheek, purses his lips and drops it at his side, brows furrowed, “you will learn to live with this pain. It won’t leave your chest, and it won’t ever leave your memory. But one day you will wake up, and forgiving yourself won’t look like such a horrible idea.”
There are tears pooling in the corners of Shuri’s eyes, little crystals silently descending down her cheeks and she looks down, wipes her face harshly with the back of her hand and feels that bundle of light in her chest again—the same from the previous night—growing and taking shape inside her heart as she looks up at him, feels herself spinning in place.
“Who are you?”
His eyes drift away from hers, wanders into random spots, avoiding. “I have many names. My people and my enemies, each have their own way of calling me. Which one do you want?”
Her brows furrow, and she shrugs. “Well, I can’t say. Are you my enemy?” She walks around him, breaks the spell of their earlier conversation, the tears slowly drying from her eyes, only her teary voice giving her away. “Or my friend?”
“I can be anything you want, princess.” He turns to face her, smiling that same smile that makes her want to jump and run away and leap in, all at once. The one that makes her face burn.
“I’m not princess, my name’s Shuri,” she wanders away, deeper into the gardens, and is delighted to see him follow her so easily. “But you don’t get to call me that.”
“I’m not as lucky as I thought, then,” he reenacts her steps like a frog leaping from leaf to leaf, not daring to step anywhere else, chuckling under his breath when she takes longer steps just to make it harder for him to follow. “Why’s that?”
“Because,” she stops walking, stopping by another tree and standing with her back to it, breathlessly watching as he quickly catches up to her. “You don’t tell me what’s going on behind those doors.” He finally reaches her spot, standing so close she can feel the fabric of his clothing rubbing against her knee. “So, yeah, I guess I really am just a princess to you. Not Shuri, you don’t deserve to be on the first name basis.”
“Well, that would be anybody’s dream upgrade, now, wouldn’t it?” He’s smiling like a little boy, a mischievous glint in his eyes as he looks at her. “But I wouldn’t be able to help you, not even if I wanted.”
His face is inches away from hers, and Shuri can’t remember when he ever got so close.
“Why not?”
“Because I bailed tonight,” he whispers. "Hoping I’d get a chance to see the princess.”
The next day, the knock on Shuri's bedroom door is far more startling than any of the feelings she had felt the previous night. She could still feel his breath fanning over her cheeks from their proximity to each other. Could see the little lines in his face and the soft skin of his lips, of his cheekbones, almost feel the weight of his face in her hands, the warmth of his torso against hers, the scent of sea salt and sunlight enveloping her like a warm blanket, a taste of summer on a chilly spring night. His eyes wouldn't leave hers, not even for a second, and it was all too easy for her to drift her own down to his lips, to wonder what other secrets he'd let her take away from his open mouth, what his beard would feel like against her skin—
"Shuri?" Queen Ramonda steps into the room with uncharacteristic haste, quickly shutting the door behind her. Shuri's instantly skeptical of her mother's mannerisms, only because they're all very unusual for someone like her, whose arms and shoulders always stand with that same elegance, which seems to come naturally in every one of her movements. Now, though, the restlessness in her fingers and impatience in her neck remind Shuri of an inattentive, inexperienced starling flapping its wings at the edge of a cliff for the very first time. It's an ominous sight, to say the least.
"Is everything okay?" She slips out of bed quickly, walking up to her mom and taking both of her hands, smoothing out the bent joints and squeezing, trying to bring in some comfort, ignoring the embarrassing buzz in her ears that judges her for every single one of her earlier thoughts.
It's true that Queen Ramonda had been on edge ever since the Talokanil had made their existence known, and it's truer that she had refused Shuri's help even when the vein in her neck had started pulsing because of 'Namor's audacity', or his 'refusal to cooperate', or his 'blatant disinterest in the bureaucracy of things' or his 'sarcastic eyes'. It's also true that Shuri had long since given up on involving herself in the matter, albeit rather sheepishly, only because she could not see how her presence would be of any use, and because it made her mom look at her a little less like that; like she was receiving punctures in her heart after every beat. It was the same look she wore now; browns twisted in an angry, sad, dejected scowl as she took Shuri in her arms and hugged her, tightly, voice laced with barely contained fury as she spoke.
"Last night, at the meeting…"
Shuri reciprocated the hug awkwardly, unsure of whether or not it was supposed to be a comforting gesture, because really, all it did was feed right into her anxiety. "Yes? What happened?"
"I want you to know that I will not let that happen."
"Let what happen?" She tried to break from the hug but Ramonda held her down, as if trying to control a caged animal that hasn't been out in a very long time. Shuri gives up quickly, instead dropping her arms at her sides and feeling bile rise in her throat, her heart beating so quickly she's unsure she'll even stay alive for much longer, let alone long enough to listen to what her mother has to say. It made her head ache with memories, with the memory that took her strength away every time it washed over her. "Please just. Just tell me. Please."
"The Talokanil—Namor, he—" a beat. Shuri's hand runs up to her mom's skirt, gripping the fabric tightly.
What if.... Shuri and Namor are happily married but she suddenly found herself with the same illness that struck her brother?
An AU drabble where Namor races against the clock to save his queen.
It was not obvious at first. Shuri would spend more hours in her lab and less time in their bed. It was not unlike her. She would just tell him that it was her newest invention to help their people.
Then she had to start turning down meetings with tribal leaders from both Talokan and Wakanda. Even M'baku suspected something amiss.
It was her body that eventually exposed her. Shuri would start needing help over the simplest of jobs. With the power of the Black Panther, she used to be able to carry ten people. Now Namor had to carry her from place to place. He would feel how her body, as thin as it already was, would lose even more weight.
Healers from both Wakanda and Talokan failed to find a cure. Shuri was certain though, that it was the exact same ailment that took her brother. It somehow subverted the herb that the Black Panthers took to gain power. Shuri hypothesized that it could have even triggered the illness.
They both knew that it was likely that Namor would outlive Shuri. He swore to love her until her last breath. They agreed that any time together was better than no time at all. What he was not prepared for was Death arriving earlier than either of them expected.
Perhaps the inevitable truth just came earlier: that he could never have accepted her death anyway, whether it would come tomorrow or in a thousand years. Namor just thought he would have more time to figure out how to immortalize her.
Namor never truly accepted the possibility of being without her. He will not.
He knew about stones that can control time and space, or wizards that were killed a million times but never died.
The King of Talokan was not about to lose his Queen like this. He will tear through the earth to find an answer, or burn it all in the process.
Contents: This happens after Wakanda forever. This is how I would build on their relationship which is fractured now but has a lot of scope. I loved how they were similar and yet different, that even through there difference they connected well. It’s also fascinating that they include a lot of great elements for their enemies to lovers trope to work. I based it off of how Riri hints, “it’s like Belle and the beast.”
Word count: 1070
Warnings: none
CONTAINS SPOILERS!
---
“When the times comes, Wakanda will call for us.”, he reassured his cousin. “Till then, we will wait.”, she replied and with a bow, she left. Tiny pellets of water dripped into water pools around him, the cave empty and vacant. His memory flashes back to when she was here. Unusual, unlike anyone he had ever met. It was a test, when he had sent her the royal attire, absolutely sure she would throw a fit and try to defy him. But to his surprise, he remembered the awe he felt when she walked into the room adorned with jewelry similar to his. He was well prepared, ready to turn this into an argument or a demand but something about her wanted him to be better. So he stood up and distanced himself. He wanted to share his history with her, the paintings on his wall, the artefacts around him.
Taloca was forbidden to anyone else but when she had asked him, he could not bring himself to say no. For the first time in the tenure he had been king, he felt excited, like the child he could never be, the child that was deemed to be loveless. So he took her and through the journey, he could only focus on her. Her voice as she called for him. He wanted to take her hand. Her eyes lit up even as she was in a suit, seeing the place he had built through her perspective, his soul churned within him. He had everything he needed. But his want for connection had always been starved, so now as she greeted a few Talocans and smiled back at him, he wanted her to stay here. Stay a little longer with him.
But the memory fades, just as soon as it had happened, he had found another way to destroy it, to be brash and be consumed with vengeance for the surface world that the only surface being that showed him kindness apart from his mother, he had now sowed hatred for him in her heart. She confided in him, one she did not even tell her mother, about her sadness, he wanted to reach out, to comfort her but what can a man who isolated his own feelings help a grieving girl? So he offered her his mother’s bracelet, the only artefact that held sentimental value. It would stand as a reminder that the people you lose are never truly gone.
Now as he looked at himself in the reflection, he traced his finger over the fresh scar on his cheek where her claws had dug in. He had to be alone when he thought about her. If his council knew of his compassion for her, if would be taken away. His mother’s voice echoed in his mind, “You are no different.”, she yelled. “You took her mother away for revenge, now who does she have?”, he paced the room. The consequences of his action should have been death but she spared him. Even after he stabbed her, even after he destroyed her home, he was unworthy. Unworthy of her kindness. His knees hit the floor. The tears that he had not felt once since his mother’s death, now pouring out. His chest heavy with guilt.
He attended the wakandan council meeting, his hopes of seeing her again reduced to nothing when he saw a man sit on the throne. All their eyes conveyed the same message, that they were doing this for her, including him. He brushed it aside, he was here as a part of his duty, nothing more. Nothing more.
Days turned to months, his people were living in peace, his company now only to be chosen between Attuma and Namora both of whom were well versed with disrupting his mental peace. He needed to see her, another moment of carrying this guilt would do him no good. He wanted to tell her the story behind the pearls he wore or show her the new painting he had done to commemorate their duel. The others he hid away, drawings of her, he had selfishly done in his secret books. He knew where she was, the elders discussed of her stay in Haiti and ever since then, he had been plotting ways to get there. The Atlantic sea had great connections to the Caribbean, it was all a matter of choosing the right current.
Shuri closed the door softly, her nephew was asleep. The night sky came alive with stars and the sound of crashing waves. She pulled the shawl around her tighter as she walked on the shore. She missed home, her lab but this was needed. To be away from all of it. To start a fresh , where everything wasn’t a reminder of what she had lost. The moon danced above the water, reminding her of him. The night he emerged out of the water when she was with her mother. He looked around wakanda as though it had been the home he had never had. But now she burned any memory of his. She ended the war but at what cost? Now she was grieving for her entire family, her loneliness so tangible that she felt in soak in her bones.
The waves crashed, she walked further with only moonlight there to guide her. She stopped, when she heard disturbance in the rhythm, as though someone was walking onto the shore She turned to spot a lonely figure, limping out to the sand and then collapsing onto the shore. They needed help or they could be in grave danger. She could help them. But her mind wanted to take her to the moment she had the exact thought but had failed instead. But as she got close, the figure’s neck shimmered like faint gold under the moonlight and she knew instinctively who it was. She didn’t approach him any further when the figure pushed himself onto his elbows as he finally found his ground.
His eyes found hers, “Princess.”, he said softly. “It has been awhile.”.
shuri’s brief stint as a goddess (symbolically/mythically/whatever) is probably one of the most fascinating parts of wakanda forever. and i call it a descent into godhod because there’s nothing glorious about it. it’s ugly, fiery and brutal. it’s very nearly a tragedy: shuri praying for bast to save her brother, her prayers being ‘ignored’, only for bast to grant her power to seek retribution and to find vengeance corroding shuri from the inside.
shuri’s descent into godhood starts with her death. the heart shaped herb is represents spiritual death and rebirth- the person gets transported to the ancestral plane, meets their ancestors , and then awakes from a burial blessed with the powers of the goddess bast. it serves a unique role of both killing and reviving the individual. and the only way for shuri to become a goddess, is to be reborn into one.
shuri wants the will of a warrior. she wants to be strong enough to best namor, have him beg for mercy, and kill him. through n’jadaka, she is asking bast for the power to enact retribution. and whose role usually is it to dish out punishment and retribution in legend and lore? a god’s. shuri, consciously or not, is asking for the power of a god.
i think bast is aware of shuri’s previous non-belief and understands that granting the powers of the black panther to shuri will enable her path of retribution. shuri literally sets the ancestral plane on fire with her fury. and yet, bast obliges with her request and gives her strength to burn the whole world if she wishes. the question is why? we don’t know much about bast in the mcu, but in marvel comics she has a strong sense of morality and justice. bast casts judgement and decides who is and who isn’t worthy of the becoming black panther. she has even denied shuri before.
depending on how you see bast, shuri becoming the black panther could either be seen as a punishment or a test. for the former, it’s a classic case of hubris. granting shuri the power to obtain the one thing she believes she needs, but knowing that it will only lead to more pain and misery for her. all of this as punishment for her non-belief and vindictive spirit. shuri, in her state of anger and vengeance, will cause her own self destruction.
the second reason is more in line with a journey of a hero. shuri is given the power to cause eternal war and the gamble is that shuri will know better and and walk back from the precipice. there is an understanding that shuri has a goddess’ anger, but a protector’s heart. and there is a hope that shuri will give up the former for the latter. bast risked the fate of wakanda and the world on this gamble. i want to believe this reason. it’s more hopeful.
for whatever reason, shuri becomes the black panther. but with a goddess’ touch everything is amplified. shuri’s once casual confidence turns to arrogance, her rage becomes wrath. we see shuri (as i love saying) become a vengeful goddess. she’s dismissive of nakia and m’baku. the lives of her people come second to her goal of killing namor. it’s been a while since i’ve seen a female character be this ugly in her anger. it’s amazing.
we know how it ends, with a spear on namor’s neck and shuri about to do the deed that causes eternal war- a goddess queen killing a god king. shuri is also about to kill her mirror image, something that will irreversibly wound her deeply. but then, bast’s gamble pays off. her protector’s heart fights against her goddess’ rage. her kindness and empathy are inextinguishable beacons despite her grief. shuri does not walk off the cliff edge. maybe as encouragement or as a gift, bast allows ramonda to give a brief message to her daughter. and in that moment, shuri lets go of her godhood, an amplifier of her anger, and instead stands as a warrior and protector over namor.
and if bast was intending to punish and not test? then it’s love changes shuri’s tragic fate. the love she has for her people, the love namor has for his people, the love between child and mother, the connection between two people who understand each other entirely. just like a fairytale, love conquers all and shuri is able to relinquish her fury. bast, impressed, accepts this twist of fate and allows shuri to continue being the black panther.
there was something mesmering and powerful about shuri’s emotions during her stint as a goddess. i like to think bast knew shuri could cope with the weight of godhood and not be crushed by it. at least for a small amount of time. i also think shuri is at peace without that righteous rage. she’s no longer burning, she’s surviving. and with clarity of mind she’s able to become the protector bast was gambling on.
Summary: Namor and Shuri celebrate the anniversary of their marriage, which unknownst to anyone else, is a sham the two concocted to unite their kingdoms permanently. Love was something beyond people like them... wasn't it?
While Attuma watched his king desperately feign interest in the arrangements of the ceremony, he couldn't help but wonder if his king had not only detested brokering alliances with the surface world because he had little trust in them but because he found them horribly boring.
He stifled a laugh as the elder continued his lecture on the histories of the River tribe and Namora was literally falling asleep standing up. Assuming it was fatigue, the elder apologized for being inconsiderate of Namor's little advisor.
"Ah, poor girl, the atmosphere here must be most difficult for you."
Namor interjected before his youngest heir could throttle the old man for his insolence. "Do not underestimate my right hand, she carries the blood of The Feathered Serpent."
"Ah, your child?" He asked, taken aback.
"7th generational heir of my only daughter Akali, Namora is my closest living relative."
"I did not mean offense, had I known I would have been sure your heir and her partner were treated much more cordially. Lady Namora, please accept my humblest apologies." He saluted and bowed his head. "The same King Namor."
"Raise your head, if you wish to make amends allow my advisors free reign of the city, while we carry on our business."
"Of course, Hassat and Kineli escort her highness to the River Bank, I assume she will be happiest near water." Namora raised a brow at her new title. Attuma suppressed a snicker.
"My place is by your side, my king." She protested. Attuma did similarly.
"Your place is where your king commands. The civilians from Talocan will arrive when their sun is closest to the west. The hydrating stations my wife had installed, make sure they are operational and linger in the area, keep watch over your king's people, they are his life."
They saluted and did as he commanded without question following the River Tribe attendants. Attuma couldn't resist, and extended his arms forward motioning Namora to go first. "After you, your highness." He mocked.
She growled and struck him roughly in the arm. Swearing at him in a very undignified manner. Thankfully they were a good distance from their king. Her partner merely barked with laughter. Oh he was going to get some mileage out of this for sure.
------------------------------------------
Shuri giggled as Okoye sent her footage from her kimoyo beads of Attuma being bombarded by little Wakandan children wanting to play with him. Namora abandoned him to do what their king had actually demanded of them, inspecting all the machines brought from the capitol city.
Citizens of Talocan were arriving and the royal guard escorted each of them as they were all mostly nobility. Select little ones were allowed to attend, young Talocans whom were very talented singers, the nonsiren kind of course, and Shuri's favorites; the little students of the Science and Engineering Academy of the Capitol City whom had helped designed the hydration stations they'd installed around the plaza. The rest of Talocan would have the event broadcasted to their homes.
"Go save my husband's lieutenant please." Shuri giggled. "They'll tire him out before we get back to the capitol."
"Of course, my queen." She smiled.
She followed the sounds of delighted children down into the market plaza.
"Namora, these warriors are too fierce, I will require your aid." Attuma taunted as he pretended to be bested by them and knelt on one knee.
The children waited for their kimoyo beads to translate and giggled at his jest. His partner merely rolled her eyes.
One of them whispered in his ear. "Is she your girlfriend?"
The translator on his kimoyo beads did not whisper, however; and he didn't miss the shocked look Namora wore. He merely laughed, stood, grabbed the child, and spun her around much to her glee.
"The 4th son of a minor clan like mine has no station to court a blood heir of our king, little one!" He announced. "I am a mere servant of the Royal Family, nothing more, right your highness?" He smiled. A voice corrected him before Namora could respond to his statement.
"I would not call the man that almost bested the former general of the royal army a mere servant."
"Lady Okoye!" The children rushed to her.
"Ah, ah, none of that, I am just a civilian now."
"If I am no mere servant, you are no mere civilian, Angel Warrior." He gripped her forearm as she did his, a greeting between rivals. "And there was no almost, I certainly bested you.
"When Queen Shuri and you return to Talocan, I'll be sure to show you the improvements she's made to my armor and remind you who bested who."
"Ah good, she's made several improvements to my armor and weapon, I would have hated it if you were at a disadvantage." Okoye laughed and Attuma let out his own in turn.
"Is she your girlfriend?"
He released her arm and became quite flustered by the question. "Ahh, err that is-" Namora did not miss the difference in his reaction to being called her lover vs. Okoye's.
Okoye, "Oh yes," she jested. "His heart has been mine since I almost ran a spear through it." She hooked her arm with him. "Come on, my sweet, the ceremony is about to start." She snickered at the sight of him flustered.
"Yes, it is and we have been given orders by our King to stay here and keep watch of the Talocanian Civilians." Namora demanded. "Come Lieutenant, I see the leaders of the coral clan, we should escort them on his majesty's behalf."
Okoye gave her an amused smirk and released him. "Apologies, I'll leave you to do your duties… your highness." She saluted, crossing her hands against her chest.
Attuma failed at stifling his laugh and he could see the throbbing vein on his partner's forehead but as a proper heir of the feathered serpent she kept her composure.
‐-------------------------------------------------
“How much longer?" He tried to discreetly whisper. Shuri kept her kilowatt smile on the performers as she and Namor, being watched by thousands of their subjects, were the real performers.
"I don't know, how long was the tribute of the feather serpent's golden sun, last month?" She replied through her practiced grin.
"Is this your revenge?"
"I was in a watersuit for 4 hours." She reminded through grit teeth.
"Don't tell me this is 4 hours?"
"I'm not as ruthless as you, my love."
"I'm not going to pretend I would not yield, long before that."
"I will always make you yield." She grinned.The drums finally stopped and Shuri and Namor joined the crowd in applause. She stood and took him by the hand. "Now… it's over." He didn't even try to hide his relief.
The Wakandan people would now shower them with flowers with different meanings, some for prosperity, joy, peace, fertility amongst the many well wishes as they exited to their ship. The Talocan children from the capitol's choir began to sing praises to the King Namor, he who had brought the sun seas and Queen Shuri who brought the children of the seas up to see the moon and stars.
They walked hand in hand and to the general public the two were rejoicing in the anniversary of marriage, delighting in their love, but they each knew why the other was really rejoicing; it was the peace of seeing their people united.
Shuri seeing T'Challa's dream of opening Wakanda to allies that they could help and protect with their resources and might.
Namor letting his people rejoice in the sun and the land his mother loved, her stories and fables come to life.
They looked at each other, Shuri's smile was beautiful, wide, and brilliant as the white pearls her husband wore. Namor's own more guarded but nevertheless just as genuine as her own.
They were healing…
They tightened their grip on each other's hands.
together.
Aaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhhh!!!!! Great Serpent! SAVE ME!!
A child's screeches cut through the music, the crowd, their hopes. Namor saw Namora jump from the bridge, the vantage point she’d chosen to take guard from, take a net from her arsenal, and throw it at an unidentified target, Okoye blocked it for some reason.
meanwhile Shuri followed the shout to its place by the bridge and spotted them, a little Talocan child, one she’d work with at the capitol’s STEM academy, little Itiza weeping on the floor nursing her bleeding forehead. Her body moved even faster than Namora’s net.
She was on the bridge in an instance cradling the child against her chest, then everything went into chaos, her Dora formed their formation around her and Attuma and the Talocan royal guard ushered their nobility and civilians into protective huddles.
“What happened?”
Itiza explained that a Wakanda child had begun to shout at her and then struck her. she wept into Shuri’s chest. “It hurts.”she cried. She scanned her with her kimoyo beads, and a numbing agent was expelled from them to sooth her wound.
“Unhand her, she’s just a child!” A woman demanded as Okoye held her back. Shuri looked over to the crowd to see Namora holding a little girl by the collar wearing the colors of the golden tribe, her tribe, with a slingshot in her hand and tears in her eyes. Namor eyed the child and pieced everything together as Shuri had, she also saw the ire in her husband's eyes.
Fearing the worst, she shrieked almost manically “BRING HER TO ME IMMEDIATELY, OKOYE!” Her personal guard compiled at speed that impressed even Namor, snatched the little girl from the Talocan General and presented her to her queen. Namora sent her a venomous glare.
Both nations watched, waiting, demanding with their piercing gaze; make.this.right. She looked at the weeping girl Okoye was holding still and the weeping girl in her arms.
And when you hurt each other it hurts a thousand fold.
Her father’s voice echoed in her mind. She gripped Itiza’s form tautly and she wasn’t sure what possessed her to say the next few words with ferocity that she did but her mouth did not hesitate to shout them, “WHY DID YOU DO THIS TO MY DAUGHTER?!” as hot tears spilled from her eyes.
The child and Okoye looked at Shuri with the same incredulous shock, they weren’t the only ones of course. The girl, Taraji of the golden tribe, sobbed her explanation saying she didn’t want any of these monsters near her, the same monsters that took her parents from her.
And there it was. The elephant in the room.
You’ve spilt the blood of those I love,
and I’ve split the blood of those you love.
The bridge was burnt before we even thought about crossing it.
“I told her to stay away from me, I told her! She didn’t listen!” Taraji explained.
She looked at Itiza gently, “your translator didn’t translate her words fast enough, did it?” Itiza said nothing, still sobbing her arms. Shuri shut her eyes, of course her faulty tech was to blame. The suffering of their people, it was always her fault.
“So, she didn’t heed your warning and you thought striking her with a weapon would be the appropriate punishment, the right retribution.” Shuri calmly, almost too calmly responded.
“I’ve seen what those monsters can do, I wasn’t going to give her a chance to kill me too!”
Shuri sighed, and wiped her own tears, nodding. “…Very well, I accept your verdict. Ayo take her with great care.” The new general fumbled to grab the little Talocan girl her queen passed to her.
The crowd, mostly Talocans of course, erupted into protest. Namora grit her teeth, “How dare she-
Namor silenced her with a raised hand, knowing better than to underestimate his little bride. “Watch, my child, I believe your queen is not done.”
“Okoye, give me your baton.” She demanded.
“Your majesty, your people are watching.” her guard pleaded.
“Why is the Queen of Wakanda repeating herself, Okoye?” She softly, but firmly demanded looking up from her knelt position. “Give me your baton.” The crowd erupted in protests again, this time the Wakandan people, muttering horrified that the protector of Wakanda would raise her hand at a child for the sake of an outsider.
“Come here, Taraji of the Golden Tribe.” Shuri carefully ordered. The girl, an example of the strength of her tribe, stepped forward without fear, unafraid of any wound Shuri would inflict on her, afterall what pain could be worse than the one she lived with now everyday for three years?
“Your highness, mercy please!” A woman, the same one Okoye had detained earlier. She threw herself on the floor, bowing her forehead to the ground. “She is all I have left of my beloved sister, let me take her punishment, in place of her mother, ten fold as is the custom of our people!” She sobbed.
“Rise, daughter of the golden tribe.” Shuri replied seemingly unmoved. “You seem to be confused, your niece is not receiving a punishment, she is doling one out.” Once again confusion struck the crowds. “Why am I repeating myself so much today? Come here, child!” She demanded.
The girl came forth and Shuri placed the baton in her hand, she looked her squarely in the eye. “You say, the proper punishment for her transgression is a blow to the head, fine. All Talocan people are children of the great feathered serpent, and all children of his are children of mine. She wronged you, very well. Here is her mother, ready to pay for her crimes, ten fold.” the child widened her eyes. “Ten strikes to my head with the same might you struck my daughter with.”
She shook her head. Strike the Black Panther? That was unheard of! “Your majesty, I could ne-
“This is an order from your Queen, disobey it and you and those who remain in your house will be imprisoned for treason against the royal family!”
Tajari’s lips quivered but she had gold in her veins, just like T’Challa, so she steeled herself by looking over at her Auntie who was weeping for her sake, garnered strength from her love and struck her queen, her protector, her hero with all her might.
“Again!” she could see the girl losing her resolve. “Don’t you dare hold back, you didn’t hold back on my child! You made her pay for blood she did not spill, sins she did not commit!
Another strike.
“I’m the reason Wakanda’s protector wasn’t saved!”
And another.
“I’m the reason Wakanda was thrusted into war!”
And another.
“I’m the reason you don’t have a father!”
And another.
“I’m the reason you don’t have a mother!”
And another.
“I’m the reason all of Wakanda lost their queen mother!”
And another.
“Strike me, beat me! Ten times, a hundred!"
And another.
"The Black Panther will bear it all! Wakanda’s protector is not a coward she will not hide from her mistakes! All she begs of you is-” She voice cracked as she broke down crying. “Don’t hurt her children, don’t make them pay for her crimes, that is not the way of our people!”
Last one. This one finally drew blood.
Itiza jumped out of Ayo’s arms, the general in shock like the rest of the crowd, was too late to stop her. “No more!” she begged in her native tongue. “That’s ten! Please!” she cried, stretching out her arms and standing in front of Shuri as if to protect her. “No more!”
Taraji, herself a sobbing mess, dropped the baton as if it burned and fell onto the other little girl, Itiza wrapped her arms around her and held her up, not one ounce of resentment in her innocent heart. That was the beauty and innocence of the people of Talocan. Shuri scooped both of them into her arms and held them like they were both the most precious things in the world, kissing their heads and begging both of them forgiveness.
“Mother Panther, I never meant to get you hurt!” Itiza cried into her chest.
Okoye shed her own tears for her young little queen and she was not alone; both Wakandans and Talocanians were moved by her words and her actions. Namor watched as his wife shook with sobs. He knew that, yes of course she was weeping for the girls, but in truth she was weeping for their children that were yet to be born. Children who would be seen as outsider to both nations and yet would be expected to love both.
His wife wept for the tough life their children would bear because of the sins of their parents. She wept because it was as much a possibility that instead of having two homes, their children would have none.
Neither all of the surface or all of the sea… just like him- mutants to their own people. Worshiped or not, it was a lonely existence for a pedestal can be as lonely as a prison.
He would eventually reach her side as the crowds parted for him, Namor paid them no mind, his general and lieutenant clearing the way for him while he kept his eyes fixed on his wife.
He knelt on one knee and inspected his child's injuries. Nothing too grave. He cupped Itiza’s little face and pressed his forehead against hers. She called him father and begged him to forgive her for ruining the celebration.
"You tried to protect my bride, my little one. You have nothing to apologize for. Brave, beautiful, you make your father proud." He turned to face Shuri and inspected her wound, taking her chin in his hand.
She moved her head down as if ashamed. "It's nothing, it's nothing." He pressed a kiss to the top of her head.
"Never, nothing." He muttered against her hair. "Not to me."
His words and touch flooded such warmth in her, she nearly forgot herself. It’s just an act, remember, it’s just an act. He set his gaze on Taraji, his eyes were solemn and heavy on her. Shuri pressed the child tightly against her and shook her head as if trying to dissuade him from whatever punishment might be crossing his mind.
"You've struck my daughter and my queen. What am I to do with you, Tajari of the golden tribe?" The girl felt her breath hitch in fear, but felt it dissolve as she gazed longer into the feathered serpent’s eyes. They were filled with a pain she had seen staring at her in the mirror for three years now, but there was such a softness too when he looked at Queen Shuri.
"Her mother is right here to pay for her crimes." Shuri curtly reminded. Her eyes sharp, a panther ready to protect her cub.
He eyed the slingshot in her dress pocket and grabbed it. "Weapons are for warriors, are you a warrior, Tajari of the Golden tribe?" She shook her head. "Then you have no need for this." He grinded the little weapon into dust in his hand. The child gripped Shuri's chest and let out a little gasp in horror.
"You've faced the great black panther and she brought you to your knees. Only the Great Feathered Serpent has had such an honor. You have a warrior's heart, do you wish to one day be one?"
She nodded. "And for what purpose will you hold a weapon, to avenge what you've lost…"He gestured to her aunt, whom Okoye currently detained. "… or to protect what remains?"
She sniffled and wiped her nose, "to protect." She announced. "I will not lose anyone else, no matter who my enemy is." She fearlessly declared staring down the mighty King of Talocan.
He let out an amused smile and Tajari felt her cheek grow warm. It was beautiful, he was beautiful when he smiled. "You are definitely from my wife's tribe." He reached into his ceremonial cloak. "This was to be my wife's gift but…" he reached in and took out a dagger, beautifully engraved and entrusted with jade and jewels befitting royalty. " I cannot leave a warrior weaponless."
She looked at the fine weapon in awe. "Protect your family, protect your nation with the might and strength of a child of the Black Panther and the Great Feathered Serpent. For as my children are her children, her children are mine. Take that so that all enemies you draw your blade against will know you are a daughter of Namor." He offered. "That is if you will have a monster as your family."
"Don't say that." Shuri chastised, touching his face. "My husband is not a monster." And there it was again, a smile that made Tajari understand why his people sang that he brought the sun to the depths of the sea as it rivaled the sun in its beauty.
"I'm sorry… it just- I miss them- it hurts- it hurts so much!" She confessed. She looked up when she felt Itiza wiped her tears, the blue-skinned girl no less beautiful and gentle than her king. "I'm sorry," she wept, embracing Itiza. "I'm so sorry."
"Vengeance has tried to consume you as it did us but you prevailed as your queen did. Let this be the last time blood is spilt between our children. I am growing weary of seeing my wife weep." He wiped Shuri's tears gently with the pads of his thumbs then gave her a soft, quick kiss on the lips. Pace yourself, he reminded himself, indulge too much and you’ll become drunk on the taste.
He stood up and offered his hand to the child. "Come, kneeling on the floor in no place for a child of Namor. Tajari wiped her tears with her forearm and took his hand while clutching the dagger against her chest. "And I've told you before, the floor is no place for the queen of Talocan." Offering the other one to his wife. She took it while holding Itiza with the other, cradling her under her chin against her chest. What a sight they were, the ruling monarchs of the two most powerful nations on Earth hand in hand holding two weeping children as if they were their own.
Suddenly, the sounds of harps flooded the river bank. The little performers from Talocan, children no older than the one in Shuri's arms or holding Namor's hand began to play.
It made sense that as children had been the ones to disrupt the peace of the ceremony, they would also be ones to retrieve it. The sound was ethereal, angelic, this was the music of the Talocans. More instruments joined then the children's choir started to sing.
Yo daré mi vida entera, por sacarte de las penumbras
Romperé con tu condena, en este mundo que se derrumba
Every Talocan citizen, young or old, nobility or royal guards joined them in song. Then, drums– loud and jovial like a heartbeat joined them, the Wakandan performers would not cast aside so easily. Nor would Wakanda's citizens as they clapped and stomped to the rhythm of the song, their kimoyo beads translating the beautiful lyrics. Members of the river tribe began to dance at the river's shore, their feet splashing in the water with each perfectly coordinated step.
Dame un poco más de tiempo, que mi último aliento yo lo daré
Para mostrarte el cielo entero, en las nubes contigo me recostaré
Shuri's eyes welled with tears of joy. "Come, they are doing this for their queen, they want to see you smile again… they too are weary of seeing you cry." So they headed down the bridge watching Talocan's sing and Wakandans dance. The flowers began to be thrown again, tenfold what was being thrown earlier. Children and elders alike shouted Queen Mother, don't weep anymore! in Xhosa.
Y nos colamos con la brisa
Y navegamos con el viento
"See?" Namor teased. "Your Mother Panther may be strong but she's quite the crybaby, isn't she?" He asked Tajari, who stifled a giggle. "Even the children have ceased their crying." Shuri laughed through her tears, she was sure she was dreaming but she didn't care, she’d indulge in the fantasy just this once. She didn't have good dreams like this anymore.
Entrе las sombras, mi amor, tú eres el mayor destello
Namor looked over at his Queen, smiling and laughing with Itiza in her arms as ornate flowers rained from the heavens to shower her.
Qué bello, qué bello
He knew that no matter if he lived another half millennia or even ten thousand more years,
Por eso es que, mi amor, me recuerdas tanto a ello
He’d never forget how beautiful she looked at that moment…
Qué bello, qué bello
He was sure the tides would ignore the moon itself and pull up to her, and that the night sky would look pitch dark and dull tonight as she had stolen the beauty of the stars for herself. Her servants had done as he commanded.
His eyes widened as he caught himself, he was much too old for thoughts like this. Much too old to be in awe of the valley flower, that one day blooms and the next withers. Still. He squeezed her hand just a little and she turned to smile at him and squeeze his in turn.
Is something not beautiful, just because it’s not eternal? Could he not indulge in appreciating it, as finite as it was?
He pulled her close and stole another kiss.
Of course he could.
He was the great feathered serpent, king of Talocan, he could do whatever he wanted, with whomever he wanted.
And just when he thought she couldn’t be more beautiful, her eyelashes fluttered open from their brief kiss to reveal her onyx eyes shimmering with a dazed glaze, and her cheeks stained with lovely hues of red flushed from embarrassment and he thinks, I could kiss you forever, if it meant you’d keep looking at me like that.
They had made it to their ship at the end of the river bank, M'Baku awaited them by the Sunbird with his Jabari guards. He had tried, and failed miserably, to hide evidence of his tears. "Your ship is ready, Queen Mother." He saluted.
She looked at him as if he’d gone mad, Namor scoffed and shook his head. "Have you not been paying attention? The children, your people have been calling you that all this time." She turned to face him in great confusion, then back to M'Baku.
"But I haven't-
"The birthing of children; it is blood and unbearable aches, can you say you've not experienced such things and come out with a child in your arms?" M'Baku gestured to little Itiza. "Is this not what a mother lives, are you not the mother of this child?"
"Of course, I am!"
"Then, you are Mother to Wakanda as well." He and his men saluted. "Queen Mother, Wakanda Forever!"
The Dora knocked their spears against the ground and she once again turned and faced their people. "Queen Mother, Wakanda Forever!" Then all her nation with Taraji and Okoye beside her husband, saluted her as loud as their lungs would let them.
“QUEEN MOTHER, WAKANDA FOREVER!"
Suddenly, Itiza wiggled out of her arms, upset that she could not salute her queen. "Mother Panther, Talocan Rise!" She knelt and placed her open hands together in the salute of her people.
Moved by his little child’s gesture, Namor did not bow, but he did salute his queen. "Mother Panther, Talocan Rise." Palms open pointing to her. Attuma, Namora (after her partner pulled her down), and the royal guard knelt and did the same.
"Mother Panther, Talocan Rise!" Then, the civilians, the nobility, the choir and performers from Talocan all did the same.
"MOTHER PANTHER, TALOCAN RISE!"
QUEEN MOTHER, WAKANDA FOREVER!"
QUEEN MOTHER, WAKANDA FOREVER!"/"MOTHER PANTHER, TALOCAN RISE!" They finally all shouted in unison.
She covered her mouth, trying to calm down her sobs. Namor let out an amused chuckle, “they’ll keep doing it, until their mother salutes them in turn.” he reminded.
She crossed her arms against her chest and saluted her children. "WAKANDA FOREVER, TALOCAN RISE! The crowds erupted into cheers and music once more. She laughed in delight and hugged M'Baku, who held her as he knew T'Challa would, with great pride in his heart.
Namor tried to hide his disappointment that it was not his arms in which she’d jumped into. "Okoye," he began. "Make sure this little warrior makes it back to her family. She's their protector, after all." He took Taraji's hand and placed it in Okoye's.
"Yes, your highness." She saluted.
Before Namor could move, Tajari tugged at his cloak sheepishly. "Ah…King Namor, I- you and-and err your people are not monsters … you are-" she blushed as the memory of his kind smile and Itiza’s soft touch consumed her. "You're beautiful!" She rushed behind Okoye to hide her flustered face but kept the dagger he'd given her pressed against her rapidly beating heart.
Okoye laughed. "And you wonder why Queen Shuri wants you to wear those jade beads? Land or sea, you have too many admirers, your highness."
"I just have that effect on the women of the golden tribe." He smirked, shooting a look at his queen.
His wife rolled her eyes. "Attuma." Shuri called out. "Please do the same for Itiza, the headmistress of the Academy must be tearing her hair out."
"Yes, my queen." He agreed and lifted the child in his arms. "Come little one, I hear your class helped her highness build the machines that keep our people healthy on the surface. Tell me how they work." Itiza's eyes beamed and you would have thought nothing had ever happened to her as she explained the inner mechanics of the machines with energetic delight.
Namor outstretched his hand. “Come, let us take our leave.”
She took it without hesitation as usual.
—----------------------------------------------
"GRIOT run the simulation again." She commanded in a whisper. What a sight she was, the queen of two nations, in her modest light blue nightgown alone in a half-lit lab sneaking around like a mouse in a kitchen.
"Deciphering… time 26 seconds."
"Why is the translation taking so long?"
"The subject-verb predicate is split in Yucatan-Mayan, in order for the translation to be accurate, the phrase must include the object of the sentence, and the speaker must finish at least half the phrase first."
"Nonsense, there must be a probability of the proper usage of the term long before the phrase is finished."
"Your highness, guessing based on the probability of usage, might lead to mistranslations-"
"Not if done by a proper algorithm!" She insisted. "Show me the dependent variables, if I tailor the equation right…” she trailed on as her work consumed her. Her senses dulled as poured herself into perfecting the algorithm, and did not realize she was no longer alone.
"Queen Shuri-
"Not now GRIOT!" She shushed as she was on the verge of a breakthrough.
"Your little spirit is right."
She flinched just a little in shock but kept her queenly composure as much as she could, though Namor's disapproving gaze made her feel like a little kid with her hand caught in the cookie jar.
"GRIOT I told you to warn me if someone was coming-
"I tried to your majesty but you-
"Spirit, leave us, I bore of you easily."
"Yes, My king." it complied powering down.
"I keep telling you he's not a spirit, he's an AI."
"Does it have a body?"
She sighed as he started his rational again. "…No."
"Does it have a consciousness?"
"…Yes." she relented.
"Then, I fail to see the difference."
She groaned at his dismissal. "Why were you saying he was right?"
"Because it is, leaving translation up to the probability of the usage of language is a gamble, a mistranslations can cause as much chaos as a slow one or need I remind you of the training incident." He raised a brow and wore an amused smirk.
She flushed. "No you do not!" She only blushed further as she realized her voice went up an octave.
While training with Namora and Attuma on land, she'd asked his general to "show her, her best moves" only to see the woman, for once, lose her composure and turn a lovely shade of purple and demand, stammering from embarrassment, that she explain herself while her partner dropped his jaw. Namor, who was watching from a throne, was howling with laughter, itself a rarity for the equally stoic king, to the point of tears in his eyes.
Shuri completely confused, was then explained by Attuma that what her Kimoyo beads had translated was her propositioning Namora for sex using Talocan slang. Shuri, of course, wanted to drown herself in the nearest source of water.
"I apologize, my children. I have been teaching your queen Talocan's language in the bedroom as well." He wasted no time in using this as a way to get under her skin. "Though, I will say it certainly was effective in unnerving your opponents, mighty as they might be." Talocan slang was added to the lexicon of all Kimoyo beads the very next day.
"You will never let me live that down, will you?"
"I have not laughed that hard in almost 100 years."
She looked back at her work. "I'll keep that in mind but I think-
"That is your problem, you think too much, never leaving matters to your soul." He chastised taking her hands and pulling her towards him and away from the screen. "You and I both know it was not your translators’ speed that caused that incident. Taraji had pain in her heart and ice in her veins, she would have sought an excuse to fight any day with anyone from Talocan. Grief is not rational."
She shook her head. "But if they would have just-
"There's nothing you could have done to prevent it." He interrupted taking her chin in his hand.
Shuri closed her eyes and sighed. "I don't believe that."
"Your machines cannot fix everything." He reminded and that seemed to strike a nerve as she pulled away from him.
"Then what's the point of me!" She demanded almost hysterically.
"To be their Queen!" He retorted just fiercely. "Your machines did not chastise Taraji and comfort Itiza, you did. Your machines did not weep for both of them! You did! You are more than your brilliance, I did not choose you as my queen for your mind, I choose you for your heart." He slowly came closer and pressed his hand with her mother's beads against her chest. "It is a good one… listen to it."
She closed her eyes and shook her head."Its… it's not saying anything."
"You just can't hear it here in this place where your thoughts and schemes drown out its voice, come…" he took her hand. "Let us go to where all sounds reach the soul."
—------------------------------
She let him lead him into the river up to her knees then hesitated, “… this is- I want to be respectful of your beliefs but… you know I don’t share them.” Shuri reminded.
“I don’t need you to believe, I need you to listen.” He tightened his hands around hers. “Do you remember this place?”
“Of course I do,” she replied. “My mother shared her ritual with me here, and I…” mocked her faith in her face.
“Nothing else?”
“Nope, nothing important.” she teased lightly, then her eyes dimmed with sorrow again. “…She said she walked this far on foot, walked until she reached water, and then she felt T’Challa with her as a breeze ran through her.” she touched her shoulder. “Said she felt his hand right here.”
“And you told her, it was a construct of her mind.” He reminded. “Do you still believe that? After everything?”
She nodded. “But that does not make it any less beautiful, my brother would have wanted her to remember him that way, and to still feel him even when he wasn’t there.”
“Do you know why her soul led her to water?” She shook her head and he continued. “Because water is life, the essence of it, our spirits come from water, and when we leave, they return to it.” He explained. “The voice of your soul is often silenced, the deafening brilliance of your mind that works faster than an eel in a feeding frenzy mutes it, but in the water… the mind learns quiet and the voice of the heart remains.”
“Trust me.” He gave her a water mask, one that worked in reverse of course, and she let out a sigh and relented.
She did. Despite their sordid history, she really did trust him. He led her further into the water until up to her neck, and then they took the plunge. She remembered his instructions; close your eyes, even your breathing… and listen.
His hands held hers gently, he was always so gentle with her. All that flooded her mind was her memories of his kisses earlier today.
Kissing was very common for Talocans, friends and relatives would greet each other with kisses on the cheek and forehead during day to day life, lovers were expected to kiss as a greeting often, only a brief peck of course, but such a thing was unheard of in Wakanda. Kissing was a private matter in her culture, perhaps on special occasions, but usually kissing between lovers in public was seen as garish and salacious.
He ignored her advice of course saying, “if I loved you, I’d kiss you whenever I’d enter a room, and kiss you whenever I left it. If I don't do so, my affection for you will be called into question. Your request was to act as if I loved you, are you done with the charade or will you let me do as you requested?”
He must have kissed her a thousand times in the last two years, but today felt different, the way he looked at her felt different.
The two, under the pretenses of becoming a more believable couple, had become very familiar with one another. Touches, kisses, embraces became their norm. The more they indulged, the more they craved it. Not that either would voice it out loud.
It was never heated or sensual just, familial but intimate. Like when he braided her hair. She thought he was joking when he’d offered to do so. She explained the process would take hours, six sometimes even eight. He raised a brow, “is that a lot?” she always forgot time worked differently for him. She had one of her handmaids explain to him the process, and he quickly learned.
“I like work like this,” he explained. “It’s repetitive and structured, it’s good for the mind.”
She sat with her head resting on his thigh as he continued. “Someone has to do it, it doesn’t really matter to me who.”
Some more hours passed and she busied herself with work on her Kimoyo beads then she heard him speak. “I would often weave clothing with my mother. Before the technologies my children made, weaving was how we made nets, fabrics, jewelry, everything.”
She wondered what brought on the sudden urge for conversation but didn’t mind indulging it.
“My mom liked embroidery, she’d put little patterns on our things when we were children, to be honest, even as adults, she’d add a design or two to our ceremonial robes. She’d say, It gives it new life for a new celebration.”
“I’ve seen pictures of you with long, thin braids like this but I’ve never seen you wear them before in our time together.”
“They are tedious, short hair is easier to manage, and less time consuming.”
“Then, why the change?”
She blushed and was relieved she was looking away from him. “I, uh… I heard that Talocans find long hair to be beautiful for women, that they like to arrange it for wedding feasts and events with special adornments that short hair does not lend itself too.”
“You 'heard' that.” he mocked. “Not investigated it, huh?”
“Okay so I may have done my research, but we will marry in a month, I am already an outsider, and am not what your people would consider beautiful-
“And who did you hear that from?" He demanded pausing his work.
“No one, I just assumed because of my different physiology that-
He scoffed. “Don’t assume foolishness, you think I’d let the mother of my children be hideous?”
She turned to face him in disbelief. “Are you telling me if I was ugly, you wouldn’t have proposed an arrangement for the sake of Talocan!?”
“I would have wed you to one of my descendants,” he dismissed. “The Queen of Talocan is her pride, I cannot have a bride that is anything but exceptionally beautiful.”
She paused at the shock of such a brazen compliment and turned back around to face away from him. “E-Either way, I just wanted… I just want to be mindful of your people’s traditions. Clothing, hair, even our makeup is all very symbolic and important in Wakanda.”
“I suppose here too.” He admitted. “turn.” he requested and she complied, moving her head to the other thigh resting on it gently.
They stayed in silence for a good long while, then he started again. “My mother would often sing, while she worked. I’ll catch myself when painting humming to songs I haven’t heard for hundreds of years.”
“UMama would do that too.” She smiled. “She’d start really softly, she didn’t really have a good voice for singing, but then I’d catch her sometimes having a whole one woman concert in the middle of whatever work she occupied herself with.” She giggled at the memory. “I do it too, in the lab, poor GRIOT, I don’t do it when anyone else is around because I’m so bad at it, but the little AI doesn’t have ears to cover up. “ She laughed. “I shouldn’t do it at all with such a bad voice but…” she trailed on. “I sound just like her so when I get lost in the music for a bit… I feel like she’s there singing with me.”
“I think I’d like to know what the Queen of Wakanda’s singing sounds like.”
“Bad.”
“I’ll be the judge, if your measure for music is as skewed as it is for beauty then perhaps, it is not so bad after all.”
“T’Challa recorded me one time and even Baba laughed.”
“Indulge your groom, little bride.” He petitioned and he finished another braid and moved to the next. “How about I go first, then you? It would make it fair, right?”
“You probably sing like an angel, since you're literally part siren!”
He ignored her comment and began to sing in a low voice, it was a deep and calming baritone, nothing spectacular but soothing netheless. It was a catchy tune, she told herself, as she found herself singing along in a quiet voice, no lyrics of course just the melody. Her voice was rough and a little shaky, but there was an earnesty in it.
She hadn’t realized she’d continued even after Namor had stopped. He wanted to just hear her. It wasn’t good by the standards of a performer, but she carried the tune well enough. He imagined her in her spacious lab, belting out with that voice whatever song her mother’s memory conjured and the thought of such a scene made him long for it. He wondered if perhaps she was part siren too.
She stopped as if she’d remembered herself and hid her face in his cloak draped on his thigh. “Ah okay, there, you can laugh now.”
He kept braiding and ignored her request, instead responding, “I’ll teach you the lyrics, so you can sing it to our children.” Once again she was glad she was facing away from him so he wouldn’t see the flush on her cheeks or the grin she was doing everything possible to suppress.
That was the sound she was hearing, her memory of him singing his mother’s song. The feeling of his fingers weaving her braids, the comfortable feeling of lying on his lap. The warmth that tingled at her lips when they touched his.
She opened her eyes in shock as she realized the dangerous place her mind was going, Shuri let go of his hands and swam up to the surface as if she was running out of air, but it wasn’t the lack of oxygen suffocating her. It was a truth she’d been trying to deny.
She removed the mask and gasped for air, smoothing her braids out away from her face, and rushed out of the water.
“What is wrong, what did you hear?” He demanded in a worried voice following her.
“Nothing,” She lied, unconvincingly, clearly shaken by what she experienced. “I’m just tired of listening for something that isn’t there!”
“You are telling me you don’t have a heart to listen to?” He countered.
“I buried it with my mother.” She retorted in an icy voice, tossing the mask at him.
Any further inquiries of his died then and there. She made a small fire as her mother had that night, Namor had returned to the water, without another word. She’d felt silly not bringing a change of clothes with her but the fire was warming her up quite nicely.
She felt stupid for yelling at her husband for what was not his fault. This was just basic human biology. Touches and caresses release serotonin in the brain, and that coupled with bouts of familial exchanges of emotions and memories create chemical reactions in the body’s pituitary glands which can stimulate the release of the hormones that human’s associate with love or more accurately lust.
She was touch-starved after losing the only three people in the world that could touch her with such familiarity and unfortunately, he was constantly touching her; embraces, caresses, kisses but it was all an act. Her body chemistry couldn’t tell the difference. She was starting to get the feeling Namor couldn’t tell the difference too. His touches were lasting longer, kisses becoming deeper and of course the endorphins such rush of intimacy gave her, after craving more from his previously subtle affections, were addicting.
In truth, she knew if she was touch-starved, then Namor must be ravenous. Yes, he did embrace and kiss his close subjects as was the customs of his people. He’d even explained that though he hadn’t taken a wife in many centuries he’d certainly had lovers, but she could tell that, the day to day affections of family, that sort of intimacy was a sort of forbidden fruit for him.
He kept people at arm's length often in his caverns where the pockets of air existed, occupied with his painting or other artisanal ministering. He kept his mind busy because if not the loneliness of his existence would consume him. He loved his people but could not be a part of them, not without getting hurt, not without being prepared to mourn them.
He’d assured her, he had no plans on becoming attached to her but how could he not? She had become his partner, confidante, friend. They would stay up late at night and plan their future together. They’d trade stories and secrets. Get drunk and share a kiss or two when no one was watching. To practice they told each other, so it’d look more natural in front of others, they reassured the panicked warning voices in their mind.
Just as those sort memories were plaguing her mind, He’d resurfaced. He said nothing as he sat beside her, she poked at the fire and didn’t acknowledge him, as if she were afraid of him like a spooked clownfish wanting to leap into a sea anemone safe from the jaws of an enemy.
This wouldn’t do. He married a panther, a predator, not prey.
“What did you hear?”
She glared up at him. “I am not a woman who enjoys repeating herself, I said nothing.” There she was, the fierce woman who made him yield.
“Those are your mother’s words. Use your own to lie to me.”
“Don’t tell me what I can or can’t do! Especially about her!”
“Was that what you heard in the water, your hatred resurfacing, your disgust for marrying the man that brought upon her death?”
“I DIDN’T HEAR ANYTHING!” She lunged at him and tackled him to the floor, the claws of her suit forming around her hands, aimed for his throat.
He looked at her as if she’d already used them to claw out his heart. “Don’t do this.”
“Afraid I won’t stop myself this time?” She threatened with a shaky voice.
“I thought I told you.” He paused to quickly wrestle her down and flip their positions, with one hand he held both of her clawed hands above her head and with the other he wiped the tears she didn’t know she was shedding. “I grow weary of watching my wife weep.” His voice and touch were gentle.
He was always gentle with her.
“Let go of me!” She demanded, but it came out like a plea. He complied, releasing her. Shuri sat up and hugged her knees to her chest. He sat beside her as he did during their wedding night, silent and waiting. “It’s not what you think…” she finally started.
“I think you hate me.”
“I don’t.”
“Then why are you looking at me with fear, if you do not see me as your enemy?”
“I’m not afraid of you hurting me.”
“Then of what!?”
She stood up and put some much needed space between them. “Of hurting you!”
“Child, clearly you jest.” He started but at the sight of her frightened and distraught, he realized she was dead serious.”I am not a man for you to think you’ll break me so easily from outbursts of anger now and then.”
“Don’t do this, Namor, you know what I’m talking about!” She retorted. “I’m talking about this! us!”
“Our arrangement? are you dissatisfied? I asked you if your hatred has returned, is that why you fear hurting me? Does the urge to take vengeance burn in you again!”
“I’m talking about what’s burning in you!” She corrected. “Don’t play the arrogant monarch with me! Don’t pretend to be above me! Admit that we’ve taken this too far.”
“Rulers often have to lie to their subjects, Shuri, this small dishonesty is for the betterment of our people, our futures!”
“It’s not a lie anymore, is it?” She’d finally said it. “We’re not drunk this time, Namor, there’s no one to put an act on for, why the hell are you here with me in the middle of the night, why the hell are you holding me when I cry, why the hell are you the voice I hear in my heart.” She demanded.
He had no answer, stunned by her declaration.
“I’m falling in love with you, and you're falling in love with me.” She closed her eyes as frustrated tears trickled down her cheeks. “That’s just how broken we are, we’re missing so many pieces, we’re so empty that we’re trying to make the jagged edges of our shattered hearts fit together.”
“And you call me arrogant?” He denied for her sake. “Child, we’re equals not lovers.”
“Then promise to never kiss me again.” She offered. “Swear it to me and I’ll stay in our arrangement, but I’ll end it here and now if I don’t have your word.”
“Why? You’d risk our alliance, the peace we’ve been brokering all this time! For such a trivial thing!”
“I could ask you the same thing! It means nothing to you, right? We’ll fake affection another way, but not that way, never again!”
“Why not?”
“Why yes? I’ll embrace you, caress you, hell I’ll even sleep with you, but please never kiss me again!”
“WHY!?”
“BECAUSE EVERYTIME YOU KISS ME, I FALL MORE IN LOVE WITH YOU!” She shouted. “When you kiss me, it’s not lust I feel.” She hugs herself as trying to will away the feeling. “It’s- it’s them, it’s their love. I feel my mother’s embrace, my father’s kindness, my brother’s-” She choked on sob. “I feel T’Challa’s love, all their love. I feel protected, I feel safe. I feel alive again!”
“Shuri…” He stepped forward and she extended her vibranium claws, a warning.
“…I’m glad you're immune to this madness, maybe I’ll study you and find the cure!” She mocked in between tears. “But until then, I refuse to yield.” she shook her head. “I can’t do this… I can’t actually love you, when you don’t love me.”
He came closer to her, despite the dangerous glint in her eyes, and placed his hands on her waist. She shook her head. “Don’t…” she pleaded. He placed his cheek against hers and whispered in her ear.
“I never gave you my gift.”
She wept on his bare shoulder, ignoring his words. “You can’t be this cruel…” she denied. “I’m begging you, Namor… don’t do this to me.”
“I like that.” he admitted holding her closer. “You begging, do it again.” he asked in a quiet, cool tone with his lips against the nape of her neck.
She bit her lip and looked up to the heavens as if garnering the strength to humiliate herself for his amusement. “Please…” She paused to grab his face with both hands looking him in the eye to try to appeal to his humanity. “Don’t make me love you.”
“You made me yield once, I intend to make you do the same.” He denied, incapable of resisting her when she was only a hare’s breath away.
He kissed her. He cruelly kissed her. She wept as she melted at the feel of it. It was delicate, and soft. No wanting fire, no hunger, just warmth like the vibranium sun he’d brought to his people. He deepened it just slightly when he felt her reciprocate. Her kiss was bittersweet as he could taste the salt in her tears.
“Say you love me,” he demanded. “Tell me the mighty black panther’s heart is mine,” he kissed her tears from her eyes. “Tell me you exhumed it from the grave you tried to bury it in.”
She scoffed at how tactless he was, doing everything but victory dance at her declaration. “Idiot, you’re wearing it on your wrist.”
He looked at the jade beads she’d made him. Exhumed, indeed. “Say it.” Now, it was his turn to beg.
“Why?” she demanded.
“Say it.” He repeated his order but it still sounded like a plea.
“WHY?!”
He grabbed her wrist and presented her his mother’s bracelet. “BECAUSE MY HEART HAS BEEN YOURS SINCE THE DAY WE MET!” He declared shamelessly.
“Namo-
“No! I am the great serpent and I am here for retribution!” He corrected. “Tell me you love me, as I love you, Shuri Daughter of Ramonda, Queen of Talocan!”
She cupped his face and wept. “I am going to die in a blink of an eye for you, don’t do this to yourself… it’s just how lonely you are, how lonely I am.” she begged.
“Is that why you see your mother and family, when I kiss you?” He demanded.
“Yes, it’s a construct of our minds.” She shook her head still weeping. “ It's not real.”
“Look me in the eye and tell me that seeing Dorma and my children when I kiss you, tell me it’s all in my head.”
“Namor-
“Tell me!”
“It’s not real…” she finally relented. “It’s just our hearts trying to give us peace.”
He pressed his forehead against hers and shed tears in front of her for the first time. “That does not make it any less beautiful, they would have wanted us to remember them this way, even if they’re not really here.” He stole her words as she’d stolen her mother’s.
She gasped for air as if he’d struck her; her love, pain, and grief hitting her all at once. “Of course, of course I love you.” she finally declared. She kissed him as brazenly as she had the day of their wedding. She didn’t need T’Challa’s help this time. She had plenty of her own love to pour into the kiss.
She saw a beautiful golden-haired Talocan woman with a baby girl in her arms and three young sons beside her on the ancestral plain. She smiled at Shuri kindly and the boys waved at her gleefully. “Take care of him for us.” she asked in a gentle voice.
He broke the kiss and she awakened from the vision. She looked up at him and wondered how her mind could construct people she’d only ever heard of, how could she recognize a voice she’d never heard.
It didn’t matter, it was beautiful… and that was enough. “… We’ll love you forever.” she declared, her hands moving on their own, touching the tips of his ears playfully as his wife used to do.
His eyes widened but he merely let out a laugh and wept, “We will always love you too.” He replied, kissing her forehead tenderly like her father used to do. “Don’t be afraid for me, even when you leave this plain… your love will never leave me, be patient like they are, we will all be reunited in the end.”
She shook her head. “I don’t believe that.”
“Then, live your life with me as if it is the only one you have, love me like you will never have the chance again.” He demanded.
“That, now that I can do.” She kissed him again, they must have kissed for hours until the sun came up. All she could remember however, all she could feel from the warmth of his kisses was the love of those she’d thought she’d lost forever.
Summary: Namor and Shuri celebrate the anniversary of their marriage, which unknownst to anyone else, is a sham the two concocted to unite their kingdoms permanently. Love was something beyond people like them... wasn't it?
She bolted up right in her bed and huffed for breath as she regained consciousness. Shuri looked at the empty space where her husband usually attempted to occupy. He would humor her and share her chambers when he visited Wakanda for sake of appearances but she knew his heart was in Talocan with his children. He was most likely at the shorefront. His feet in the water, where the rest of his soul was.
She wished she had the kind of love left in her. She sat upright in her bed and hugged her knees. At the thought of love, the dream that had consumed her resurfaced.
In truth it wasn't a dream; it was a memory.
"Agh! Shuri! That was a gift from Baba! how could you tear it apart!" A young T'Challa demanded as he chased his little sister through the palace. She ran as fast as her little legs would take her, but he was hot on her heels. In her defense, she hadn't meant to destroy T'Challa's vibranium sword, she just wanted to see how it worked.
In a fit of rage he threw the only thing he had on hand, the broken helm of the sword, and true to form, the young prince didn't miss. He hit his sister square on the back of head and the fright of the impact, more than the impact itself, caused her to stumble and she tripped. Her loud wails sobered T'Challa's rage and soon their parents emerged.
Ramonda wasted no time scooping her little one up in her arms and berated T'Challa as she nursed the growing bump on her baby's head with soft strokes. T'Chakka allowed his wife to finish her lecture and then calmly demanded his son explain himself.
The young prince stumbled through his rationale, still far from the eloquent king he would one day become.
"So this was the appropriate punishment in your opinion, the right retribution for her crime."
"I- she shouldn't have just torn it apart without asking!! It meant so much to me-
"A blow to the back of the head, for breaking your cherished weapon." He reiterated as he picked up the broken helm and inspected it. "...Very well, I accept."
He demanded a baton from one of his Dora. "As is the way of our people, a parent must pay for the crime of their little child, ten fold." He reminded as he placed the baton in his hands. "Ten blows, with the same might you struck your sister with."
"Father, I-
"Is this the sort of wishy-washy King you will be?! will there be no order, no law in Wakanda when I pass you the throne!"
"No but-
"Will the people of our nation see no justice because their king will be too squeamish to dole it out! Will the next Black Panther be an ornament of righteousness instead of a bringer of it?!
"No!"
"Because if so tell me now and I will bequeath my throne to your sister now before I let a coward rule our nation!"
"T'Chaka!" Ramonda protested but it fell to death ears.
The young prince swallowed his words of protest, gripped the baton, and shook his head.
"Good." He announced and with quiet dignity that only a king could have he knelt and right before he bowed his head he demanded. "This is an order from your king, do not hold back even one ounce of your strength!"
The young prince looked at the man he loved more than anything, and trying to steel himself, he gave him a shaky nod. He steadied his quivering hands and dwelt his father a hard strike.
"Again!"
And so he did.
"Again!"
He continued as the ten blows seemed to go on for eternity. "Again!" T'Challa felt every blow as if it was his own head being stricken. Tears poured down his face but true to form the little prince dealt merciless blow after merciless blow, as his king had ordered.
In their hearts they all knew the strikes of a child did nothing to the mighty Black Panther but even his elite guard, his dora, flinched not for their king, but for sympathy for their little prince's broken heart.
"Wipe those tears," T'Chakka softly demanded when it was all over. "It was you who chose the punishment." He reminded as he stood. "What pain do you think a father feels when their child is stuck, hm? Ten times, twenty?" T'Challa didn't respond as his father took the baton from his hands. "A hundred." He finally finished. "Every pain you two live, aches a hundred times in me. And when you hurt each other it multiples a thousand fold." His eyes landed on Shuri who was weeping in Ramonda's arms, guilt eating her alive as it had been her fault all this happened.
His wife held resigned anger in her eyes as she soothed her youngest. He was too young for this lesson, her gaze reclaimed. T’Chaka did not waver.
"Wakanda's children will be your children, and at times they will commit injustices against each other, and you will be tasked with bringing forth retribution or they will take it themselves. You must not be so permissible that your subjects feel their king will leave them unprotected like sheeps with no shepherd but you cannot be so ruthless that you will strike your own children with no remorse for every little mistake they make. Feel their pain a hundred fold, and when they hurt each other a thousand, that is the mark of a great ruler."
T'Challa held his head high desperately trying to hold his composure, and crossed his arms over his chest saluting his father, "Yes, my King."
T'Chakka placed a gentle hand against the nape of his son's neck and pressed his forehead against his. "And you will be…" T'Challa broke at his praise and tears poured down his cheeks again. " You will be a great king, one of the greatest Wakanda will ever have."
Shuri awakened from her memory at the sound of her husband reentering her- their chambers. He lifted a brow, his wife wasn't one for waiting up for him to return, many a night he'd enter the room with her snoring so loudly he was sure his people could hear it in the depths of the sea.
"What time is it?" She asked, remembering her husband wasn't in Wakanda for R and R.
"Your sun will rise soon." He replied, "steel yourself, your handmaidens will be here soon to beautify the queen of the great feathered serpent."
"You mean further beautify their glorious protector, the Black Panther."
"Are those two things different, my little bride?"
She tossed a pillow at him, "oh save it for the elders, beloved." He dodged it easily and chuckled lightly as she flipped him off. She wore a small quiet smile. This was her favorite version of Namor, her friend, who was willing to find humor and joy in the absurdity and cruelty of their lives as two people surviving unbearable burdens and unbearable grief for the sake of those counting on them.
"Ugh someone should come beautify you, old man."
He scoffed. "I am beauty itself, Shuri."
She rolled her eyes so hard she was sure it was audible. "Half a millennia of being worshiped has warped your brain, that or the undersea pressure."
"You're oddly energetic at this hour." He sat on the bed and beckoned her closer, she complied and placed her head on his lap.
"Panthers are nocturnal."she muttered softly.
He stroked her hair gently."Your time is over, the sun is here."
"It's always night for me now." She whispered solemnly. He said nothing merely continued his ministering.
This had become a ritual of theirs, he knew no other way to comfort her, oddly enough, it started on their wedding night. The closest thing to intimacy that either of them would ever consider.
To Shuri this was more than intimacy.
I've broken you before, but now I'm letting you be the one to piece me back together.
She had been strong, so very strong in front of her people that day. She smiled through the whole ceremony and acted as if the tears pouring down her cheeks were of joy as M'Baku, not Baba, not T'Challa, not Mama walked her down the aisle.
"To the people of Wakanda a political marriage would be repugnant," she explained. "Love and family is everything to us, to use marriage to broker power and alliances would bring shame upon us and it would do the very opposite of uniting our people."
“So you are rejecting my proposal?” He paused from finishing his current mural, he set the brush down on his conch shell palette and set it down on the table.
She shook her head looking up at him seated at the table where he kept his supplies. “I am saying you will have to play the role of the smitten husband and I your smitten wife, my people must believe I love you and that you love me in turn.”
“The first part will be easy, how could you not fall in love with me.” He joked, then a sad smile graced his lips. “The second however, I am incapable of that kind of love anymore…that sort of folly is for children.” he knelt and took her hand. “But I would not have suggested this if I did not believe that you are the only being in the last 500 years that I would ever consider my equal, and worthy of being the mother of my children, and a queen who would be noble to my people.”
“I am your better.” She reminded.
He laughed. “One battle is hardly eternal victory, little one.”
She smirked and raised a brow. “You will have to yield to me often, are you sure you understand what you are getting yourself into?”
“I will outlive you and your descendants, Shuri, and with your lives the peace we’ve brokered might dissolve. Your nephew and his descedants might not have the same good will towards my people, to me. Eternal war is not something I want for Talocan. Our heirs, our bloodline would create an everlasting union, an everlasting peace for our people."
Everlasting peace, those words alone steeled her resolve. “... I accept, but we follow the customs of my people, you will court me for a year, then we are to be wed and you must not fail me in this, King of Talocan, you must act as best as you can that I am your moon and stars.”
“Only if it means I get to see you act, rightfully so, as if I am your sun.”
She rolls her eyes but lets her gaze fall on him tenderly. “My heart belongs to Wakanda…" She lied.
I buried my heart with her.
"…but I swear to you my strength and might as the Black Panther will belong to both Wakanda and you."
He reaches for the smaller rings on his hand, “I was told this sort of arrangement requires an exchange of jewelry for the people of the surface.”
She shakes her head. “No need.” rolling up her sleeve and revealing his mother’s bracelet to him. “Your heart has been mine since we met, my love.” They both let how odd the phrase sounds out loud carry to their ears before they laugh, Shuri letting out a particularly unlady-like chortle while he merely let out a quiet chuckle.
“That is going to take some time to get used to.” He admitted, his sights now on the delicate bracelet, his hopes and wants for an alliance taken form on the wrist of this small but unbreakable woman. He takes her hand in his and gently strokes the jade ornaments with the other.
“We’ve got a year.” She reminded teasingly but there was a softness underneath, he didn't miss. He cupped her face, his right hand still holding the one the bracelet was clad with and pressed his forehead against hers as he'd often do with his children.
"I vow my loyalty to you and our heirs forever."
She turned her wrist to show him the enclosing knot on the bracelet. "If…" she didn't know why she was hesitating. "If you'd like it back I'd understand it is very precious, one of your rings will do fine."
He shakes his head. "Collecting dust in my quarters does my mother's memory no justice. Being worn by the most powerful woman on the surface and future queen of Talocan… that does her justice."
He stood and offered her his hand to rise from the seat she was in and follow him into what would one day be their quarters.
"Besides it is proof…"
she raised a brow as she took his hand. "Proof of what?"
He kissed her hand tenderly. "That my heart has been yours since we met."
She was stunned for a moment at how sincere he sounded and then let out a scoff at the playful glint in his eyes.
She took back her hand and let out a smirk. "Oh you're good."
He laughed again, still that quiet chuckle but the wrinkles in his eyes crinkled gleefully. She liked the look of it… she could learn to be happy hearing that laugh and seeing that smile.
A year passed quickly and of course she was met with opposition but borrowing her mother's strength she kept her composure.
“Your mother’s murderer!”
“My sister, Nakia, love of my brother’s life, slayed two of his children, civilians not soldiers in cold blood.” She reiterated. “One of them died in his arms after agonizing in a cold wet cave with a wound in her abdomen, she begged him to save her…and like me he was helpless to do nothing but watch as someone he loved died.”
“So now, less than a year, and you claim to love him, so this has been the purpose of your diplomatic missions to Talocan? To warm his bed?”
M’Baku slammed his staff loudly against the ground. “Take care how you speak to the Black Panther!”
Ignoring their ignorant jab at her honor. “Love is…” She closed her eyes. “He understands my pain, he has lost, as I have lost. The ache in my heart is not gone, my family is with me, but not in this plain, and as the black panther very few can hope to understand the weight on my shoulders- He does. My soul is filled with…”
Emptiness.
she sighed. “It’s like thunder… it’s loud and it shakes me inside, it rattles my bones.” She opened her eyes and stared down the elders. “But when I’m with Namor… it’s quiet, just for a little while, it’s quiet. I will not pretend to understand what you believe love is, but that peace he gives me… that is enough to me.”
The council seemed to lose most of their objections after that day. A year came and went and soon enough she was at the aisle with him. When the priest pronounced them wed she kissed him brazenly as if she had loved him all her life. She tried as much as she could to replicate every kiss she'd seen T'Challa and Nakia exchange, her brother's passion, his love poured into his beloved after she returned from a war dog assignment.
Your love… lend me what it looked like, brother.
Not many things surprised him after more than 500 years on this Earth but he was in awe of her composure; in truth it had become more rare to not be in awe of his queen.
But it was their chamber that had finally broken her.
Standing there hand in hand, as they had yet to detangle their fingers when the guards left them to their privacy of what once had been her parent's chamber.
Their chamber, where her parents had consummated their love, conceiving her brother and her. Where she'd run to when she couldn't sleep waiting for her father to return from a long mission and her mother would place her head on her lap and stroke her hair and tell her tales and legends of their ancestor, of the mighty black panther.
"It shouldn't be me…" she wept as she gazed into the room. She covered her face trying and failing miserably to hold her composure. "It shouldn’t be me.” She fell to her knees. Her beautiful black and purple gown quickly stained with tears.
This should have been T’Challa and Nakia’s chamber, where they’d delight in the joy of their real, beautiful love. Where they’d bring their wonderful son into the world…
Emptiness. Rain. Thunder.
Thunder loud enough to deafen her. Crying out to her, denouncing her… telling her that’s what should have been.
… but instead it was her and…she looked up to see Namor, who was giving her neither a look of pity or compassion. A loveless marriage between the boy without love and the girl who had lost hers.
He sat beside her, saying no words…
Quiet. Peace.
She flung herself into his lap and wept for what seemed like eternity. He made no motion to push her off or hold her close. He simply let her be.
Her sobs eventually turned quiet and words finally came to her." ...This room was filled with more love than any place in my life, even more than my lab… it was filled with my parents' love, my mother's… and it should have been my brother and his bride's room… but instead it's empty, there's no love in it anymore… it shouldn't be me…"
He carefully removed her headdress and gently stroked her braided hair. “But it is you… and it is I. We are what remains." His voice was low, a whisper she could have ignored. He lifted her form with ease. "Come this is no place for the Queen of Talocan to lie." She didn't protest.
He laid her on the bed and sat beside her. He placed her head back in his lap. "... we may have no love for each other but I know you love Wakanda as much as I love Talocan. That is what fills this room now. We are here for them."
"I don't think I love anything anymore." She confessed. "So many times I think, I failed to recreate the heart shaped herb and that instead made a poison and killed the person I used to be. I feel nothing anymore… I'm crying not because I'm sad but because I feel nothing. It should have been T'Challa but it hurts that it doesn't hurt. She turned to face him and placed a hand on his face. "I don't love you but I don't hate you…" she stroked his face gently. "Why don't I hate you? Why do I feel like I'm dead when I'm alive."
"because you are healing." He calmly explained. "When I buried my mother, it ached and I scorched the earth that scorned her people. When I buried my wife, I buried the fire in me and let it eat me alive for the sake of our children, but it was when I buried my last son… I had no fire left in me… I thought to myself I have buried the last person who will see me as mortal, as a man. The mortal in me died with them, all that remained was the great feathered serpent." He explained. "There was a chasm in my soul, I held my grandchildren and their children in my arms but… I felt no heartbeat in me but time passed and the numbness with it. I was shedding my skin, as serpents often do. I shed my past self, yes a part of me was buried in the surface with them but another part lived for the love that existed in them; that now exists in their descendants, I'll see my wife's smile in Talocan's children… I'll see my daughter's beauty in her descendants, my sons' might in theirs."
Shuri stayed silent… she wanted to ask a million questions but all that escaped her lips was, "Panther's don't shed their skin." She muttered into his cloak.
"You were not a panther when we met, little one." He reminded. "The herb changed my people and the same transmutation that healed them, made them feel as if they'd died but they survived and thrived. The surface can never be our home again, they did die in a way but their children, my children…those who remained have known only peace and joys. Their happiness… It restarted my heart."
She gripped at his cloak as his words wormed hope into her.
"It will be painful, so your heart will numb the pain while the transmutation finalizes, it put my mother and her people in death-like sleep, that is the numbness. But you will awaken, you will live again." He comforted.
"When… in 500 years?" She muttered almost childishly.
He smirked and stroked her hair. "200 at most." Despite herself, she smiled, and though her face was hidden into his ceremonial cloak, she felt somehow he knew. "... sooner than you think." he finally responded sincerely. "You've felt it. When you look at your brother's son… you feel your heartbeat again, even just for a moment, don't you?"
She didn't answer but nodded. "The great black panther, you're only just now being born." He whispered in her ear.
"Your Majesty." GRIOT announced. "Your handmaidens are on their way."
Shuri shot up from her husband's lap. The memory dissolved with the silence GRIOT broke. "Ah, what is their ETA?
"Ten minutes."
"Agh where did I-" She jumped out the bed and searched through the wardrobe. "I put them-
"I put your things in that compartment." He pointed. "You’re always leave your mess al–
"My mess? Those are my notes and schematics for my new designs for the water masks!"
"Our current masks work just fine."
"How many times do I have to tell you, just because something works does not mean it cannot be improved." She scoffed. "Found them!” Her excited smile suddenly turned shy and she turned away from him. She held a little tissue paper wrapped package against her chest. “We won’t see each other until evening and it’s annoying that I can’t reach you when we come to Wakanda, shells don’t really work here like they do there-
“Until my little bride finds a way to improve them-
“Don’t tempt me with a good time.” She turned to face him with a devious smile but then lowered her eyes to the package in her hands. “But… what I mean- It’s or that is-
“Get on with it, what did you break?”
“What no! My gosh, one time I accidentally mishandle a water grenade in the lab-
“That laboratory was unusable for 3 lunar cycles.” He reminded.
“Ugh here!” She tossed the package and he caught it with ease, raising a brow as he inspected it. “It’s a gift, don’t act like you’ve never seen one.”
“Not from you.” He admitted, he opened the small package and found a gold plated vibranium bracelet, its beads rectangular with a glowing turquoise pattern designed all through it.”What brought this on?”
“It’s kimoyo beads, well really jade beads, but they function just like them.” She grabbed his hand and motioned him to press one of the beads. He did and its pattern glow brightly. “Go on, you’ve seen me use mine a thousand times."
"Call my wife." He complied.
The kimoyo beads on her wrist began to glow. She smiled widely. "Hello, beloved." And a hologram of each other appeared above their wrists.
"You are connected to everyone and GRIOT as well."
"Everyone?"
"Attuma and Namora have rings that function similarly."
"I suppose while on the surface, it has its uses." He announced. She wrapped her hands around the bracelet.
"It's made from vibranium from my mother's kimoyo beads… I thought…" she paused to stroke the stones gently. "It would honor her memory more with you than gathering dust in my lab."
"Shuri…" He brought her chin up to look at him. "You did not have to use something so precious–
She shook her head and gave him a small but genuine smile. "It's only fair," she lifted her wrist to display his mother's bracelet. "Now we both carry the love of those whom we've lost."
He pressed their foreheads together. "They're not lost, Shuri." He placed his hand wearing the beads against her heart and took her hand clad with her bracelet against his chest. "They're right here."
She nodded but couldn't muster any words but "Happy Anniversary." She declared. "Now, you can't go missing for hours up here."
He rolled his eyes, went missing, what a dramatic woman he'd married. "I will do as I please."
"Yes, but now I'll know where you're doing it."
"Be careful, what is the saying you land dwellers use? Curiosity killed the cat?"
"But satisfaction brought it back." She reminded.
"And are you satisfied, my little bride?" He teased.
"Oh yes completely, my love." She mocked. "No one satisfies me like you." She joked. "And what about you? You do like your gift, don't you?"
His tone lost its playfulness and sincerity poured through, "I am honored to carry her memory for you."
She smiled and before they could break apart, his attendants and hers entered.
"Your highness, forgive us! the doors were unlocked, we assumed..." One of her attendants flushed as they seemed to misinterpret their proximity as being in the middle of an act of romantic affection.
Namor and Shuri had a bit of a competition going to see who could be more convincing than the other at playing the smitten spouse. Namor, as usual, was winning. He placed his hands on her hips and lightly pressed his lips against her neck.
Shuri wanted to leap out of her skin from the shock. Damn him for being so brazen!
"You are not forgiven." He berated trailing more kisses in between words until he had reached her shoulder. "My wife has just given me my anniversary gift, leave us so I can show her my deep appreciation."
Attuma suppressed an amused smirk as he just knew that his partner had most probably the most unamused expression imaginable. He snuck a glance to confirm his suspicions; and true to form Namora looked quite bored by her king's antics.
"Shall we tell the elder of the River tribe, you will not be meeting with him this morning, Great Serpent?" Her respectful tone laced with annoyance.
"Namor, you can't miss that, the ceremony is at the river bank." Shuri reminded, halting his lips from touching her own by putting her hand up as a buffer.
"I can do whatever I want… with whomever I want." He corrected moving her hand giving her a quick kiss on the lips. "See?"
She wanted to call him an idiot and tell him to stop playing games but she followed his lead and instead said,"For me, beloved?" She pressed their foreheads together. "Please."
Spoiled child. He begrudged. He relented and released her. "I want to see my wife adorned properly for the ceremony this evening. The Great Feathered Serpent's bride must make the moon and stars look dull compared to her."
"Yes, your majesty." Her attendants saluted.
"I'll see you tonight, my panther. I look forward to giving you my gift this evening, after the ceremony." He teased as he and his entourage exited.
She wanted to throw the dresser at him, her cheeks burning red. Little displays of affection, old man!! She swore he loved embarrassing her like this just to watch her scramble to keep her composure.
"Ah sorry about that, the Talocanin are very passionate people, it's customary that they be a bit eager regarding how they express… affection."
"No, your Majesty, it is only normal. I'm sure your husband is eager for an heir." One of the younger attendants replied.
"We all await the footsteps of your little ones livening up the palace." Another added.
Shuri let out a forced smile. "Ah yes, well we'll leave it all in fate's hands.
"Wakanda will rejoice at having a queen mother once more."
Shuri said nothing. The title queen mother was not one she was eager for. When first wed or crowned a Wakandan queen would be referred to by only the title Queen but upon bringing her first child into the world, she would be not only the child's mother but considered a mother of all the Wakanda people, thus the title Queen Mother.
Namor was in no rush either. "The sooner my child is here, the sooner I will bury them…"
She realized that day that this marriage and fathering children with her was a sacrifice for him as well. After losing his first wife and children to the unhalting march of time, a pain beyond measure, he took no other bride and fathered no more children for half a millennia. By having these children with her he was willingly tearing his heart open just to have the grains of sands of time coarsely cut it like a thousand blades.
"The agony of burying your child, it is unlike any I have ever lived."
"Then, why propose this at all?" She asked.
"I would die for Talocan. Do you think I would hesitate to do anything for them? If my suffering means their joy, I will suffer for Talocan without question."
She remembered her dream from the past. The difficulty of not just raising a child but raising a King that her parent's dealt with. Her father's tough lessons and her mother's wise council, they raised the greatest King Wakanda has ever had.
She touched her fruitless abdomen. What kind of heir would two broken people like her and Namor bring into the world? Would their child burn the world that had slighted and taken so much from their parents?
T'Chaka and Namor were not dissimilar in their honor bound legacies, ready to make harsh, cruel decisions for the sake of their people but she was nothing like mother…
Would T'Challa have been a ruthless ruler if it hadn't been for his mother's kind and gentle love?
The sort of love she was now incapable of…what if she gave birth to a N'Jadaka instead of a T'Challa?
She shuddered at the thought as she and her handmaidens exited the chambers.
Summary: You catch Hawks cheating one day after work. After leaving him, you revert to your old ways as you strive to find some semblance of normalcy and the answer to a simple question.
Angst with a capital A T-T
~~~~~~~~~~
Acceptance
The cold air stung your skin as you zipped across the city. You used to cling so tightly to Hawks when he took you on flights like this one. You just barely held on to him now. Instead of looking down at the bustling streets and their artificial lights, you opted to look up. It was a new moon and the lights below blocked out almost all of the stars, but you stared into the cloudy abyss anyway. Common sense dictated that you at least look down to see where he was taking you; you ignored it though. You knew all too well that Pro Hero Hawks was a creature of habit. So much so that you didn’t even need to watch the ground to know where he was taking you.
When you felt him slow down and dip you knew you had arrived. The minute your feet touched the worn concrete roof, you took a few tentative steps away, completely turning your back to him and cradling yourself tightly. You could hear him shuffling nervously behind you. Breaking the awkward silence, you spoke up.
“Can you hurry this up? I have work in a few hours so…” You said absentmindedly scratching your forearm.
“Right. Of course.” He fumbled nervously. That was new. “You remember that new secretary that I complained about?”
“Yeah, I remember her. Why?”
“Because she’s only part of the whole story.” Hawks said.
And so he explained everything to you. Hawks explained how Azusawa got placed in his office by the Commission. Their contrived reasoning included. How she had practically stalked him at work. How her quirk, persuasion, worked to break down a victim’s will, forcing them to treat her commands like a mindless zombie. That when you found them, he wasn’t all there. How when you walked in, she deactivated it so he would look the part of a typical cheater when he scrambled to explain himself. How he spent the last 7 months trying everything in his power to get in contact with you without you cutting him off entirely. How he cried himself to sleep when he realized you probably wouldn’t want him anymore after what she had done to him. How your last interaction haunted his dreams every night you too were apart.
The longer you listened to what he had to say, the worse you began to feel. You weren't even caught off guard by how quickly you accepted his words for truth. It was just so…bizarre. They could have just told him to stay away from you or something! It would have been so much easier for them to sit you both down and pry you apart in an office than to have someone go undercover and do all this. It was nothing like them at all. This wasn’t practical. This was one hundred percent malicious. Someone, somewhere in the Hero Public Safety Commission wanted Hawks to suffer. Why? You couldn’t guess, but they were getting away with it. You were so busy stewing in your newly found anger, that you neglected to notice Hawks was waiting for you to reply.
Your gaze shifted from the ground once you turned around to face him. So many emotions flashed across his face at lightning speed. Fear, concern, confusion, and finally hope. Hawks hesitated a bit before taking an unsure step towards you. Instinctively you jerked back, but backtracked immediately after and threw yourself on the man. As soon as you got your arms fully around him you squeezed like your life depended on it.
After a few beats of stiff silence, you felt Hawks’ body shake, all the emotions he was keeping in check while talking came rushing out in waves. He wrapped his arms around you, oh so slowly, returning your bear hug with a death grip. If you flexed even a little right now your jacket might rip you thought. You both sank to the floor, still firmly locked to each other. Hawks buried his head deeper into the crook of your neck while you rubbed comforting circles into his back. He was the first to speak.
“I’m sorry,” he said, his voice cracking just a touch.
“What for? If anyone should be apologizing, it’s me.”
“But-”
“But nothing. You got assaulted. Stop apologizing for any of this. I’m sorry.” He sniffled a little before you continued.
“I was so quick to abandon you without any explanation. I may or may not have been a little insecure about us but even that’s no excuse for how things went. I left you when you needed me the most and ignored all your attempts to reach out.” You pulled back and gently cradled his face with a free hand. “I’m so, so, sorry you had to deal with all of this alone. I know this barely scratches the surface but I hope that even if you never forgive me for this, I can still help you find some closure.” You wiped a stray tear from his streaked cheek. The silence that followed your words was deafening, but you held firm, waiting for his response. The man in front of you fixated his sight into the very depths of your soul and spoke in a shaky breath.
“Do you still love me?” You paused for a second at that. You did. You really and truly did love this man. But you thought it would lighten the mood to make him work for that little tidbit of info.
“Do I?” You countered, a smile tugging at the corners of your lips. You were teasing him, and as always, he was quick to catch on.
“I think you do.” Hawks replied playfully, albeit his voice still shaking a little.
“Are you sure about that?”
“Please…” He begged, his voice only above a whisper
“Yes, I do still love you.” You sighed, resting your forehead on his.
“Good. That was all I needed to hear.” He breathed a sigh of relief at that, and for the first time in months, you saw him smile. It was soft and delicate, like morning rays peeking out from dark clouds. Gods, you loved this man so much it hurt. You had no idea how you had convinced yourself you could get over him. The two of you sat there for who knows how long simply holding each other, neither ready to let go.
“So…where do we go from here?” Hawks asked bluntly, eyes scanning yours for any kind of answer.
“As in…?”
“As in, can we go back to the way things were? Y’know, before all of this?” He gestured vaguely to the air while his other hand still clung to you.
“I don’t really think so.”
His eyes blew wide at your deadpan. He looked so hurt at your words. You quickly realized your mistake and scrambled to find your words.
“I mean that in the sense that we can’t just ignore all the stuff that happened. There is a huge amount of therapy that needs to be had before I think we can call it “back to normal”!” You exclaimed, frazzled. Your bird man giggled at your reaction. Damn, he was adorable.
“Well, we have our work cut out for us then.” He said smugly, nudging your head with his as he smirked.
“You are impossible.” You scoffed.
“But you love it.” He said, smile growing wider by the minute.
“You're such a dork.”
“Your dork.”
“Always.” Letting out a breathy sigh as you settled your face into his shoulder.
Breathe in, breathe out
For the first time in almost a year, things felt like they were going to be alright.
Summary: You catch Hawks cheating one day after work. After leaving him, you revert to your old ways as you strive to find some semblance of normalcy and the answer to a simple question.
Angst with a capital A T-T
Next: Ch 5
~~~~~~~~~~
A heartwarming reunion
You were never fond of alleyways. It didn’t matter what time of day or what part of town. You were 100% sure that whenever an alley was involved, nothing good ever happened. The sheer amount of times you had gotten ambushed in these passageways was a testament to that. The stench of cigarette smog and alcohol clung to the inside of your throat as you tried to, unsuccessfully, lean against a stack of crates. The reason being the envelope hidden on your person was starting to stick you in the ribs. That thing was so goddamn pointy.
When was that agent getting here?! It’s not like they were late or anything. On the contrary, you had shown up about ten minutes early, but only because every time you and the commission had done business together they insisted that being early meant being punctual. It sounded just as stupid when you thought about it now as it did when they said it. Nevertheless, you were here. Alone. Not an agent in sight. Leaning the side of your head against the wall, your impatience starting to get the better of you.
Maybe I should just hide this somewhere and call them to look for it. It's better than wasting my time standing here. A fun little scavenger hunt at their expense. You smiled under your mask. Watching them frantically search for this might be more fun anyway. Now, where would be the most inconvenient place to find an envelope?
You hadn’t even pushed yourself off the building to start looking when you heard footsteps approaching. Snapping your head in their direction, you tried to focus more closely. The footsteps sounded heavy and slow, whoever it was sounded like they needed a nap. Since the alley was dark it was hard to make out the person’s silhouette, save for a thin outline, courtesy of the neon lights from a club on the other side of the street. One feature you did notice was a large pair of wings, and judging from the reflection of light, they appeared to be red.
Red wings. Red wings. Now wait a damned minute-
You froze. Hawks. Hawks has red wings. No no no nono nonono. NO! NO! Why did it have to be HIM?!! You were so not ready for this. Your chest tightened and your voice was caught in your throat. This can’t be happening. Not now. NOT NOW! You thought after all this time you had gotten over him. Or at least enough not to panic at the first sight of the man.
When he finally stopped, he was only a few feet in front of you. In your panic, you hadn’t noticed how much closer he had gotten. Your mind came to a halt after you took his current state. Upon closer inspection, he looked...decrepit? Well not completely, but it was just enough for someone who paid enough attention to notice.
His eyes looked like they had sunken in quite far for it to even be noticeable in lighting this bad. The bags under them looked like they held the weight of the world. He was dressed in his hero suit, and that didn't look any different than when you saw it last time. Not a thread, or feather, out of place. His face was what threw you for a loop. You remembered that Hawks always wore at least some makeup of some kind to cover up what he liked to call “the unseen parts of hero business”. That usually meant bruises and the like, but eye bags weren’t off-limits.
A snippet of memory flashed through your mind. One of you helping him cover up a couple of bruises he had gotten in a robbery case earlier that day. You chided him for not being careful enough while he just stared at you with all the love and admiration in the world. But things were different now. You shouldn’t be dwelling on the past. Still, it was a tad strange seeing such a usually well-manicured bird look so haggard.
His mouth was moving but you couldn’t hear anything. When had he even started talking? You tried to tune in, but only heard the last syllables of his sentence. The password. Whenever you met with an agent they usually gave you some sort of password. It was different every time so they let you know beforehand. You knew what you were supposed to respond with so you started to without thinking.
Parting your lips to speak, you quickly paused.
Your voice was the only part of you that wasn’t disguised. If you said a single word he would recognize you immediately and that terrified you. What if he reported you to the police? Or worse, what if he took you in himself? The thought sent a shiver down your spine. You could imagine it now, Number 2 pro hero Hawks, dragging his secret ex into the station for being a vigilante. Through your panicky haze, a rational thought finally cropped up. You weren’t actually scared of any of that. You could easily escape any holding cell they put you in. Staying under the radar after that wouldn’t even be an issue for you. You were really afraid of what he might think of you, despite it all. After everything he put you through you still wanted him to remember you as you were. Sweet, innocent, and powerless. You shouldn’t care what he thinks at all! Who is he to judge your life decisions if his are what got the two of you in this situation in the first place!?
With renewed confidence and the safety net of your mask, you locked eyes with Hawks and gave him the password. The look of terror on his face once your words registered to him was surprising. Now that your mind was clearing up you realized he had to know it was you. There was no way the suits didn’t give him a dossier on you or something. Unless he didn’t take his job seriously anymore. In which case that was uncharacteristically sloppy on his part. Okay no more mind wandering to avoid this. FOCUS
“What are you doing here?” Hawks’ voice wavered. Your body stiffened at the rasp in his voice.
“My job. Which is done now,” you stated bluntly, quickly shoving the envelope into his chest. “So I’ll be on my way now Mr. Hero.” You tried to bully your way past him to avoid further confrontation. He wasn’t having it though, grabbing your wrist and yanking you to a stop.
“Wait! Please,” he begged, “We need to talk.” You refused to respond immediately. Electing to stay silent. You could feel the newly built walls around your heart weaken. He took your silence as a signal to continue.
“Not here obviously, but this is important. I can explain if you would just listen to me. I need you to know what really happened. All of it. Please. I-”
“And why should I even trust anything you say, huh? I don’t have time for your excuses. I have a life outside of you, you know. A life that I need to get back to. So let me go and we can pretend this meeting never happened yeah?” You said, still stubbornly refusing to turn your head back in his direction.
Here was the man who had shattered your entire world in an instant. The man you had so thoroughly convinced yourself you were over moments ago. He was begging you to hear him out. You had even convinced yourself that you were doing better without him. But for all the judging of his appearance tonight, it hurt you to see him like this. Somewhere deep down, in the thoroughly shattered crevices of your heart, you wanted to hear him out. Maybe find some closure in all this. You don’t know. You could feel your whole body begin to shake. Like a small quake only you could feel. You wondered if he could feel it too. In the arm he was holding on to like a lifeline. Or maybe he was shaking too. Holding his breath for you to do something. Anything.
“You’re...Hawks, aren't you?” They stood there wide-eyed behind the glass. As soon as the wonder and amazement illuminated their features, it vanished into nothing.
My art for @kdjamlabel 's fic for the @hawksbigbang event! @bebberoni also did art for the fic!
pixelskylines
kianamaiart
yousharknotpass
2087
annaxmalina
gummygunk
