Hello! I’m Wren/Mary (she/her) and I write fanfiction under the moniker Misterkingdom. This is my blog for writing related things. I'm trying to turn it into a writing inspiration/advice blog but You'll mostly find unfinished fanfiction trash/original writing here though.
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This is an excerpt from my debut novel. It is nowhere near finished and even this piece is a rough draft. I decided to post it because it’s my birthday (June 2nd) and I want writer friends.
Hello, friends! Long time no see! I exiled myself from tumblr because I’m an aging wage slave and I’m working on my debut novel. This is an excerpt from it. I started a new blog @by-ill-angels-only to post non-fanfic WIPs and other people’s writing that I find inspiring. Concerning the piece of writing above though, the excerpt and the novel is FAR from finished but I am having the worst best time writing it.
So, I’ve been gone because I’m working (that could be the full sentence because work is sucking the life out of me) on writing an urban fantasy/noir novel about a necromancer and his undead assistant solving mysteries related to the dead and I’ve been having the time of my life coming up with little puns.
I just wanted to pop in and tell you how much I enjoyed your fic series “how mercy looks from here”. The dynamics between all the boys are so twisted - blurring the lines of familial lines and those of lust and desire. It actually inspired me to explore those dynamics in my own writing and wanted to thank you for introducing me those dynamics
Aw! Thank you so much. I am so flattered that you like that series. I thought I was being too annoying by posting so much of it so it makes me happy that you enjoyed it! Especially enough to take inspiration. As a writer, that’s one of the biggest compliments you can get. I will definitely be smiling and blushing about this ask all day.
Also!!! When you do write and post your work PLEASE tag me in it because I would love to read it.
So far, I’m a little disappointed by the companions and the over all dialogue of this game. The dialogue does not sound human. It’s so corporate and clean. These characters feel so cardboard which is crazy because Inquisition’s companions were larger than life. There’s also A LOT of telling and not showing which makes the characterization paper thin.
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
Chapters: 1/1
Fandom: Loki (TV 2021), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Relationships: Loki/Mobius M. Mobius
Characters: Loki (Marvel), Mobius M. Mobius
Additional Tags: Loss of Virginity, (kinda), Seduction, Loki in Love (Marvel), Top Loki (Marvel), Bottom Mobius M. Mobius
Summary:
The thing that makes Mobius good at a job is to expect the unexpected, stay sane in the midst of insanity, and put the “un” in unflappable, but what do you do if the god of mischief had you pinned between a Loki and a hard place? And it’s where you wanted to be?
Summary: The internal validity (or weakness) of the plan to marry and breed with Namor would be if the God would even honor this agreement of not killing Riri if Shuri gave him what he wanted: her. Men have told bigger lies than this to get laid.
If he goes back on his word, I will kill him myself. A part of Shuri said. A part she barely recognized, a part that awakened in her after her brother died.
***
Persephone is having sex in hell.
Unlike the rest of us, she doesn't know
what winter is, only that
she is what causes it.
***
Author’s note: I decided to delete this from ao3 because I wasn’t happy with the way it was written. Also, because of my job I have no time to give it the love it deserves and whoever reads this deserves a better fanfic. I’ll leave this upon my tumblr for anyone who wants to read it. Thanks so much for the support, guys! It might reappear one day in better condition.
The dress was damp and heavy with humidity as it leaked down to her ankles. The material was thin, and the jades strung on the neckline was cold and clung to her skin. The cave housing Namor’s dwelling was dark and quiet, like the end of her brother’s funeral. If it wasn’t for the fact that she saw her new husband standing in the doorway with a smile on his face and his warriors surrounding him, she would’ve thought she was alone.
There was no moon underneath the sea, honey or otherwise. This next part was not meant to be sweet. This is a political marriage, meant to bond the kingdoms of Wakanda and Talokan. Namor had asked for her hand in exchange for the life of Riri. Shuri had agreed quickly and Namor’s face had lit up as if the sunshine fell upon it. Maybe this was his plan all along.
“You are like the sun,” Namor began.
“Hard to look at?” Shuri said. She tried to drown her nervousness in humor—a familiar situation. It instead formed a rock in the pit of her stomach. It was the type of wordplay that would earn her a soft chuckle from T’Challa. T’Challa would’ve searched the entire ocean for her. He wouldn’t approve of this, but he was not here. He was nowhere. He’s dead and he took the Black Panther with him.
“Radiant.” Namor continued as if she hadn’t spoken. “Come.” He held out his hand. Shuri took it, it was hot—if he were human, he’d be in the hospital. He had to be at least 115 degrees. He led her into the dwelling. He let her hand go before unraveling the cloth partition above the door until it fell down, covering the entrance, leaving Namora and Attuma outside.
The only light was a flickering fire making the room shadow wet. It was separated from her by a wooden table weighed down with fish, fruit, silver and glass bottles filled with liquids of mysterious origins, and a bar of dark chocolate.
Underneath her naked feet was a woven rug that wasn’t there before and to her left was a bed tucked in the corner that definitely wasn’t there before. It was covered with brown furs. Shuri stopped herself from gulping. It’s just sex, people do it all the time, even for fun. You haven’t. The judgmental voice in her head said. Shuri frowned as she walked to the fire and rested her hands above the flames. Her palms warmed, the clammy cold melting away. Finally, some warmth and light. Being underneath the world with Namor felt like living inside a sapphire.
The dress was damp and heavy with humidity as it leaked down to her ankles. The material was thin, and the jades strung on the neckline was cold and clung to her skin. The cave housing Namor’s dwelling was dark and quiet, like the end of her brother’s funeral. If it wasn’t for the fact that she saw her new husband standing in the doorway with a smile on his face and his warriors surrounding him, she would’ve thought she was alone.
There was no moon underneath the sea, honey or otherwise. This next part was not meant to be sweet. This is a political marriage, meant to bond the kingdoms of Wakanda and Talokan. Namor had asked for her hand in exchange for the life of Riri. Shuri had agreed quickly and Namor’s face had lit up as if the sunshine fell upon it. Maybe this was his plan all along.
“You are like the sun,” Namor began.
“Hard to look at?” Shuri said. She tried to drown her nervousness in humor—a familiar situation. It instead formed a rock in the pit of her stomach. It was the type of wordplay that would earn her a soft chuckle from T’Challa. T’Challa would’ve searched the entire ocean for her. He wouldn’t approve of this, but he was not here. He was nowhere. He’s dead and he took the Black Panther with him.
“Radiant.” Namor continued as if she hadn’t spoken. “Come.” He held out his hand. Shuri took it, it was hot—if he were human, he’d be in the hospital. He had to be at least 115 degrees. He led her into the dwelling. He let her hand go before unraveling the cloth partition above the door until it fell down, covering the entrance, leaving Namora and Attuma outside.
The only light was a flickering fire making the room shadow wet. It was separated from her by a wooden table weighed down with fish, fruit, silver and glass bottles filled with liquids of mysterious origins, and a bar of dark chocolate.
Underneath her naked feet was a woven rug that wasn’t there before and to her left was a bed tucked in the corner that definitely wasn’t there before. It was covered with brown furs. Shuri stopped herself from gulping. It’s just sex, people do it all the time, even for fun. You haven’t. The judgmental voice in her head said. Shuri frowned as she walked to the fire and rested her hands above the flames. Her palms warmed, the clammy cold melting away. Finally, some warmth and light. Being underneath the world with Namor felt like living inside a sapphire.
Namor went to her, his arm touching hers. The orange blaze of the fire sewn shards of ruby in his dark eyes. The right side of his face was covered in shadow as he smiled at her.
“I apologize for the temperature, my Queen.”
Shuri smiled. “Oh, I’ll be fine. I mean, what can you do? You’re only a God.”
This time Namor did chuckle. “Do you really think me a God?”
“No. There are no Gods.” Shuri said. If there were, they would’ve saved my brother who was just and good. He was Bast’s greatest warrior, and she let him die.
“Hm.” Namor said with a frown. Her stomach sank.
“But your people would die for you without hesitation, so you’re just as good as one.” Shuri rushed out before watching the floor like a wilting flower. Hopefully she wasn’t screwing up the marriage already. At least wait until Riri is safe. Jeez.
Namor turned to her. He pointed his index finger under her chin and guided it up until she watched him. She had never seen eyes so dark. They were like coal. “Never change your answer, yourself, for me. I married the princess of Wakanda, not a spineless jellyfish.”
“Even a jellyfish has her sting.” Shuri said before watching the fire again. Namor placed his large hand on her lower back, making her feel thin and breakable. He pulled her close, leaned in, his soft breath tickled her earlobe and made the hair on the back of her neck stand up. He smelled of wildflowers and honey. She turned her head toward him and moved her mouth toward his too quickly. Their teeth smacked together.
“Ah, shoot.” Shuri covered her mouth with her hand, trying to quell the dull, throbbing pain of the front of her teeth—they weren’t broken, and she wasn’t bleeding but still, ow. Namor looked completely unfazed.
“Did I hurt you?” He asked.
“Are you made of diamond? Jeez.”
Namor chuckled. “No, I am flesh. Though a sturdier kind.”
Shuri would love to see a piece of his DNA underneath a microscope, find out what makes him as strong and tough as a rhino. She pushed that thought down. What an odd thing to think on your wedding day.
“I see.” Shuri said. “Should we try again?”
“I would like that.” Namor cupped the side of her face with his soft hand, holding her in place as he dipped down for a kiss. His lips were soft as a rose petal. Her eyes fluttered closed. She pressed back tentatively, tangling her fingers in her dress just to hold onto something. Namor put his thumb under her bottom lip and pulled down slightly. She got the idea and opened her mouth and he drunk her in—he tasted like the sea—briny and salty, but it was as sweet as wine in her mouth. The kiss was mixed with the flavor of fruit seeds she couldn’t name that Namor fed her earlier.
She’d only ever been kissed once and it was through her breathing apparatus about an hour ago, during the wedding ceremony. Now it's all-consuming, like water. Her hands shook as he gripped the nape of her neck to keep their mouths together. He didn’t need to breathe but Shuri did, so he put one of her hands between them until it found his chest and pressed against it. He pulled back until his hot breath buzzed against her lips.
Shuri shivered. There was fluttering in her stomach. “What now?”
Namor’s hand cupped the front of her throat, and his fingers close around her neck, gently. It was as if he couldn’t stop touching her. His thumb tugged at the corner of her mouth, dipping in slightly. Shuri’s face was on fire, but she kept their gazes locked.
“We are to consummate our marriage.” Namor said as he nodded toward the bed in the corner of the room before watching her again. “And we cannot leave this room until we do.”
“O-oh.” Shuri said. She had ‘the talk’ with her mother when she first bled at age thirteen. The Queen wanted her to be in her thirties, married, and in love before she so much as even looked at a man in a sensual manner and the man had better have been an upstanding Wakandan, rich like the handsome grandson of the Merchant Tribe elder. What would mother think if she could see her now, married to what could’ve been Wakanda’s destruction? A man—a king, a God who coerced her into his bed under threat of the life of another if she refused him? Would the queen think it noble or foolish? Hopefully Shuri would get the chance to ask her.
“Just…”
“I don’t mean to rush you.” Namor said gently.
“I know.” Shuri said too quickly, her face heating. “King, I mean, K'uk’…Jeez, I am very sure I am butchering your title.”
“You may call me king.”
“And Namor?”
“If you find it easier to pronounce.”
“King, Namor, I’ve never…ahem. I’m a virgin.”
“Ah, I see.” Namor said. He looked a little too pleased. “I trust you’re familiar with the concept?”
Round pegs in circular holes—Shuri couldn’t help but to think but thank Bast it didn’t come out of her mouth. She’d never been into pornography, and she thought more about algorithms than boys but she’s a woman of science, she knows the mechanics of most things and how bodies fit together to form new bodies. It’s simple math, 1+1=2.
“I am and I am ready.” Shuri said with more confidence than she felt. She couldn’t deny that Namor is beautiful, sculpted from marble like Adonis drizzled in caramel. Tall and broad with eyes and hair as dark as the deep sea. His personality so far is loving, gentle. She could almost forget the circumstances—the fight—that preceded the marriage, the abduction to the underworld. The threat of the death of Riri if Shuri didn’t give him what he wanted. Shuri could pretend that this was all her choice and that she was in love. Namor made it easy.
Namor’s eyes were heavy lidded, and his lips were slightly apart. He looked as if he was enchanted by her. He smoothly went behind her. On the back of her dress was jade buttons leading down to the top of her bottom. Obviously, this was the only way of getting it off safely. Namor popped them open one by one until the dress slipped down to her elbows, baring her unsexy undershirt underneath it. She wore no bra because she didn’t need one. Her breasts were small—too small. She pulled off the sleeves until the dress pooled down to ankles, revealing her boy cut underwear. She turned to face Namor, and he pulled her into a kiss. She looped her arms around his neck and drew him close until there was no space between them. He placed his hands on her sides—the dusky strip of skin between her undershirt and underwear sticking to Namor’s warm stomach. He was so solid-strong. It felt like he could snap her in half without even trying. Hopefully he’ll keep that in mind when they…have intercourse. He lifted her up with his hands under her thighs and she crossed her ankles behind him. She tightened her arms around his neck, and she clung to him. He pressed his lips under her jaw, causing a tingle to run down her spine as he walked with her to the bed. He placed her on it with care before climbing over her—the bed complained under their weight.
She thought she would lose her virginity on holiday in New York City. There would be candles and mood music. There would be rose petals on the bed and chocolate covered strawberries. It would be after a fancy dinner and a night on the town. Her lover never had a specific gender, but she couldn’t imagine in a million years it would’ve been a God of a world below.
Namor’s skin was the color of a reddish gold sunset. Eyes and hair as dark as the depths. Tongue soft. He inches back and placed his big hand on her stomach. She took a shaky breath as he swept his thumb over the bumps of her ribs, he watched her like she was a work of art, like she left him speechless.
“My Queen.” He said lowly as he dipped down to press his lips against hers for a beat before pulling back. “The prophesies do not do you justice.”
“Prophesies?” Shuri asked as she wrapped her arms around his waist, pulling him down over her until there was no space between them.
“I was to be married to a daughter of earth and fire. She would be patient, selfless, beautiful…and unite the kingdoms of land and sea.”
“How do you know I’m her?”
“How could you not be? Eyes the color of coffee bean, skin brown silk, and a rage that could burn a third of the surface world’s trees and green grass. A hail of fire mixed with with blood.”
“From the Christian book of revelations. 8:7.” Shuri said.
“And unbelievably intelligent. I’ve waited centuries for you.” Namor said as he hooked his fingers in the hem of her underwear. She lifted her hips as he slid them down her legs. Her forehead was damp from sweat. No man had ever seen this much of her. She slipped off her undershirt and it pooled on to the floor. Her hand went up to cover her breasts, but Namor pinned her arms above her head with one of his hands gripping her wrists. “Every inch of you is perfection.”
“I-I bet you say that to every queen on your wedding night.” Shuri joked, flexing her wrists clutched in his fist. Namor must’ve taken what she said seriously.
“There have been no others.”
“So, you’re a 500-year-old virgin?”
Namor chuckled before brushing his lips against hers. “No. I know what I am doing.”
“That makes one of us.”
“Were you never curious?” Namor asked.
“I consider myself a girl—ahem, a woman of science. I know the ins and uh, outs,” Phrasing, boom! Shuri couldn’t stop herself from thinking. “But I’m not much of a porno person.”
“Porno?”
“Oh, of course you don’t know what that is.” Shuri could smack herself upside the head. “It’s…on the surface world some people are paid to, um, simulate breeding for others to…see.”
Namor’s eyebrows rose. Shuri’s face could’ve been on fire. This was so awkward. Bast.
“It’s a form of erotic..stimulation.” Shuri tried to explain away.
“I illustrate paintings.” Namor said as if he were trying to make her feel better. “For erotic stimulation.”
Shuri pressed her lips against his to bring his attention back to the subject at hand, instead of how hard she’s bombing. He let her wrist go and weighed her down, the vibranium covering him glittering in the fire. Namor pulled back and stood, carefully removing the jewelry across his neck and decorating his arms. He placed them on the nightstand. He then unhooked that WWE championship like metal belt before sliding those tiny green shorts down his strong legs. He unlatched his footwear.
Shuri had never seen a man naked outside of an artistic context. The reflection of the flames danced across the expanse of his wide chest, his stomach was taught, his…down there looked too big to fit inside her and was covered with black hair on the base. Now they’re both naked. Namor knelt between her legs and took her ankle in one of his hands to spread her open.
“Wait, what about protection?” Shuri asked.
“Protection?”
“I don’t think you have a disease that could be transmitted sexually, but I wonder about preventing pregnancy.”
“Preventing? My Queen, that is the entire point of us lying together.”
“Wait, what? Now?”
“Yes, now.” Namor said. “The daughter of earth and fire will bear the son of air and water a child that could walk between worlds.”
“A child? I’m only twenty.”
“You are of sexual maturity for a human.”
“I am but…I’m not sure I want to be a mother yet.”
“This was our agreement. You are my Queen. There are certain responsibilities that come with that title, certain sacrifices.”
“So, it has to be now?”
“According to the prophesies, you conceive on our wedding night.” Namor said. “I do not go against prophesies.”
“Then…”
“Then?” He said lowly, dangerously.
Shuri swallowed thickly. Just when she thought marrying Namor to save Riri couldn’t be any less of a plan, he wanted to get her pregnant! Could she call this whole thing off? He only agreed to spare the student if Shuri became his queen. This would be seen as a dealbreaker and then it’ll be all out war. He would kill Riri and probably her, dragging Wakanda into a conflict with the entire ocean. Bast! Okay, just because she’s getting pregnant doesn’t mean she has to stay pregnant—morning after pill and all that. She’ll give him what he wanted and figure a way out later.
“…Neither shall I.” Shuri finished as she spread her thighs. A smile rose on Namor’s face as he gently cupped his hands under her knees, holding her open as he slides in between her thighs. He lets one of her knees go before using his finger to slide down to her entrance. She kept her legs open as he dipped his finger inside her. She bit her lip against the slight burn. He used his thumb to rub against her clitoris. Her breathing picked up as the sensation of pleasure washed over her. Namor stuck his finger into the hilt and held it there, never letting up on rubbing her button. Her moans were breathy, and her toes curled. Her mouth dropped open as Namor watched her as if he were enchanted.
“The sounds you make…” Namor said, as soft as candlelight. “You are music, you are art, you are everything.”
Shuri wanted to cover her face—flattered, but embarrassed. She had no idea how to respond to any of that, but he stuck another finger in her and she cried out—her voice repeated through the quiet dwelling. Hopefully Riri couldn’t hear that. Shuri’s not sure the student would agree with this plan. The internal validity (or weakness) of the plan to marry and breed with Namor would be if the God would even honor this agreement of not killing Riri if Shuri gave him what he wanted: her. Men have told bigger lies than this to get laid.
If he goes back on his word, I will kill him myself. A part of Shuri said. A part she barely recognized, a part that awakened in her after her brother died.
Her eyes fluttered closed as Namor kept his index and middle finger deep inside her while rubbing clit. She tangled her fingers in the fur blanket under her while using her other hand to push at his stomach, not sure what she wanted. She bit her lip and rocked her hips against his fingers, urging him to move. He took his fingers away and tucked them in his mouth. Shuri shuddered, her…down there…felt too empty and wet. Her breathing was shallow and there was a slickness on her skin that wasn’t due to humidity. She didn’t need to lie back and think of Wakanda to get through procreating with Namor. She wanted this. She was ready.
She sat up and climbed into his lap, holding herself to him by wrapping her arms around his neck. He gasped—probably at her body heat and how close her entrance was to his dick. He steadied her with his arm around her waist, keeping her flush against him, her breasts against his chest. His chuckle was deep, and it vibrated through his body like a purr.
“Never in my centuries of living have I had a maiden not be intimidated by me.”
“If you want to be intimidating, you shouldn’t wear those tiny green shorts.”
Namor laughed lowly. “You surprise me, my Queen. The lack of deference…”
“Would you like me to use deference?” Shuri asked before stealing his answer by giving him a wet kiss. He shuddered against her before they pulled apart.
“You should. I am K'uk'ulkan.” Namor said.
Shuri pulled back an inch to look into his eyes. She needed to gauge how serious he was. If she was screwing this up somehow…He looked as if he were under her own personal spell. What he wanted was an equal, after being revered all his life. He didn’t want Shuri to be afraid to look him in the eyes or hold her tongue. He wanted a queen, not a concubine. She could be that for him.
“And I was the princess of the most powerful nation in the world.” Shuri said. “Now I am queen of another. Perhaps it is you who should use deference.”
Namor answered by pressing their lips together with the intensity of a punch—well, that’s not true. Her jaw would be broken because Namor seemed like he was molded from the same vibranium he usually wore on his chest. He picked her up like she weighed as much as a feather before taking her over to the wooden table in the middle of the room. He knocked the plates of grapes and fish to the ground. The wine bottle shattered into confetti as it soaked into the cracks in the floor like blood. Shuri inwardly groaned, she wanted some of that.
Namor laid her on the table, bending over to kiss her again. Shuri’s thighs bracketed his waist, as his dick rubbed against her entrance. He sighed into her mouth as he rocked against her, never fully getting inside her. Shuri burned down there—she needed him in, so she angled her hips down. Namor stood up from her and wrapped his strong hand against the front of her neck to keep her pinned to the table. He used his other hand to grab the base of his dick and press it into Shuri. Shuri groaned as he entered her, slowly pushing into until he couldn’t anymore.
Shuri squeaked as she grasped the side of the table. She clenched her eyes shut against the burn and unbearable pleasure of being full. He was deep inside her—she could almost feel it in her stomach. She clenched around him, trying to get use to his girth. She was sticky with sweat, her lips quivered.
Namor took deep, slow breaths—as if he were trying to contain himself. It was irritating how composed he was trying to be. Always dignified. What could she do to break that composure? Shuri laid still, waiting for the raw newness of being penetrated to fade. When she became slicker, she moved her hip down causing him to slide even deeper into her.
He gasped—the mask of calmness finally slipping. He gripped the end of the table, the sturdy wood crumbling in his hand like granola. That made Shuri freeze.
“Remember,” Shuri said breathlessly. “I am not made out of stone.”
Namor chuckled before pulling out of her an inch and pushing back in, fucking her slow. His quiet, quick breaths filled up the dwelling. She clenched her toes as he picked up the pace, but not the force.
Shuri mewled and moaned, unable to stop herself. Her mouth hung open as she shut her eyes. Every time he filled her, there was fireworks behind her eyelids. It was overwhelming, nothing like the touches she gave herself before getting bored and stopping. Her breath caught as surges of pleasure shot through her. Her thighs shook.
The coarseness of the wooden table under her chafed her back. The wooden legs bluntly scrubbed against the floor with each push of Namor’s hips. He was more forceful now, knocking groans out of her. He was eerily quiet as he placed his soft hand on her stomach.
Shuri bent up slightly to thread her fingers into his hair and pull him down on top of her. His rhythm fumbled as she kissed him like she wanted to devour him. He wrapped his arms around her and lifted her hips slightly to pound into her—finally losing that cool façade. Shuri held on to his shoulders, her fingers turning to claws as cried out every time she was filled. She came, her vision whiting out as she shook, the pleasure flooded over her as her voice went high. Namor stilled inside her, holding her close to himself.
Shuri’s breathing was labored as she went limp, staring up at Namor. The flinching fire made flecks of gold on his skin. His hair was mussed from her running her fingers through it. He was so strong on top of her. She felt so tiny in the wake of him. She tapped him with her foot to get him to move. He fucked into her forcefully, obviously not hard enough to hurt her, just enough for the undercurrent of burning to arise in her. He moved quickly, using her like a toy until he stilled, coming deep inside her. His grip on her hips felt hard enough to bruise as she bit her bottom lip.
They stay there catching their breaths. Namor stayed pinned inside her, probably trying to make sure of conception. Shuri couldn’t worry about that now. Would he honor their agreement now that they’ve slept together? Now that they’re married? Was Riri safe?
Namor pulled out of her, and Shuri felt slickness seep out. His come. Yuck.
Shuri sat up at the end of the table while Namor sat on the bed. In between her thighs hurt so she had trouble closing her legs. They watch each other like a showdown. The romance movies never portrayed after sex awkwardness. What does a princess…Queen…and a God talk about? He’d seen centuries worth of treasures, rises and falls of empires, entire histories play out over and over again, but if those things weren’t on the internet or in books, Shuri didn’t know them.
“So,” Shuri began as she picked at her nail beds with her thumb. The coolness washed over her, making her realize she was completely naked. “Have sex with a God. Check.”
“You are making a list?”
“A Beyoncé concert is next.”
“Beyoncé?”
“I have so much to teach you.” Shuri said.
“And I would love to learn.” Namor said. “Come to me. I would like to lie with you.”
“I must visit Riri first. I’ve been gone hours. I need to let her know you did not cook and eat me.”
Namor chuckled before speaking. “I expect you back after.”
“Okay.” Shuri said. “About Riri…”
“I will honor my promise. If you stay with me and Wakanda becomes an ally to Talokan, the scientist lives, and there will be peace. I’m sure you’ll both be very happy here.”
Shuri hadn’t told Riri Namor expected them to both live out the rest of their days in his underworld. That couldn’t happen but she’ll take what she could get right now. At least they’re safe.
There was still the matter of him wanting to wage war on the entire surface world, but Lemonade wasn’t recorded in a day. Ideas take time to seed and grow. She was confident she could convince Namor Wakanda and Talokan could come to a peaceful solution with America and the rest of the world.
Shuri gets dressed in her bridal gown and gives Namor a deep kiss. There was still that dull ache between her legs as she was led by her new lady in waiting back to where they kept Riri.
The Talokanil woman is sprawled out on the floor, clutching a hole in her abdomen. Her eyes are shiny with tears. She’s shaking as Nakia stood over her holding a weapon.
“No.” Shuri whispers and rushes over, bending down over the woman. She tried to save her, but the woman fell limp, her eyes rolled to the back of her head. The damage was done. Nakia tells Shuri they have to leave before reinforcements arrive.
“You don’t understand! This will mean war!” Shuri needed to find Namor, to apologize to-to explain the situation. She had never seen his wrath—his anger. He didn’t seem the type to rush to judgement. Though she only had three conversations and sex with him. He looked at her as if the sun rose in her eyes. He loved her. That had to mean something, right?
Nakia and Riri drag her away and they escape. While being wrapped in the warm embrace of her mother, she knows Namor is not far behind.
Wakanda was a golden nation, the fresh wind swept through the market bringing the smell of bread, fruits, flowers, and sweets into Shuri’s lab. It was nothing like being in the dark, heart shaped tomb of Namor where the only light was silk stuck in the canopy of a cave like trapped stars. Wakanda glowed in comparison, the sunshine stretching over the blades of grass, making the world surrounding the city shine like a field of crystals. She never appreciated her home until she’s been somewhere different for a while.
Shuri watched the city from the screens in her lab and couldn’t help but to see it drowned in water. Namor was coming. Her stomach cramped with nervousness. It had been about ten hours since she’d been rescued. She’d eaten, bathed, and tried to sleep but was not successful. She’d shooed away doctors and assured her mother three times that Namor had not harmed her. Shuri hadn’t told the queen that she married or slept with him. She might never.
“Griot?”
“Yes, princess?”
“I need a body scan.” Shuri said before she laid on her table like so many other of her experiments and inventions before her. She kept her arms pinned by her side as purple lights traveled from her shoes to her forehead. A silhouette of herself appeared on a screen. There was a red circle in her uterus. Oh.
“You are pregnant.”
“What is the accuracy?”
“98%.”
“Bast.” Shuri could always wait and take an over-the-counter pregnancy test, but they were so primitive. With that, it could take weeks to know for sure.
“Should I alert the queen?”
“I cannot express how much I do not want you to do that.”
“Yes, princess.”
Shuri sat on the side of the table and rubbed her temples. She was a 21st century woman and a woman of science. Whether she considered it a child at this stage was purely academic. Moral and religious arguments aside, she was not ready to be a mother. Especially with a man whose physiology, genetics, and temperament she could only guess. She also really, really didn’t want to tell her mother she slept with Namor, and that she enjoyed it.
Shuri could create something quick and painless to terminate the pregnancy with a snap of her fingers. No one had to know. She better get to it.
Shuri’s mouth went dry and sweat collected on her skin. Her hands shook. Namor told Shuri about his mother—how she became the hope of his people as they drowned themselves to escape their oppressors. Shuri was in the same position as her-to bear a leader to bridge worlds. They were hundreds of years apart and one only existed in memory, but Shuri felt her hand guiding her.
Namor scorned the surface world and wished to see it toil in a hail of fire but marrying Shuri symbolized unity, forgiveness. So did the child she carried. Shuri was Namor’s one anchor to a world outside of the sea. The sole reason he might reconsider war with the entire world. This child could strengthen her position with him. Convince him that good still exists outside of the ocean. There can be peace.
Bast. Was she keeping this fucking baby?
“Princess! Multiple breaches into the perimeters of Wakanda!”
The waters swelled and the Talokanil crawled out of it—splashed across the screens in her lab were flashes water exploding through buildings, Wakandans heading for higher ground. Her soldiers had been warned the city could be attacked so they were ready as they headed straight to the warriors of the deep. There was a flicker in the sky-Namor.
Shuri rushed to the throne room. It’s her best guess as to where Namor was headed. She closed the door on Okoye’s face and bolted it. The throne room’s door was pure vibranium, designed to keep out all enemies, including fellow Wakandans. Now she was alone, save her mother, who watched Shuri with wide eyes.
“Shuri? What are you doing?” Queen Ramonda asked.
“Mother, no matter what happens, do not attack Namor.” Shuri said. “You need to let me handle it.”
“Are you insane? I’m not letting him anywhere near you.” Queen Ramonda said.
“Listen to me! There has to be no more bloodshed. Keep the Dora Milaje out of the throne room. I need to speak with him alone.”
“I am not leaving you.” The Queen said. “That is out of the question.”
“Fine.” Shuri said. “But you have to trust me.”
The Queen pursed her lips. For once she kept her thoughts to herself. She must’ve seen the look on Shuri’s face.
The glass of the windows shattered, sending shimmering shards of gold flying everywhere. Namor, in all his furious glory stood on the windowsill. The white sun bloomed behind him like a halo, the vibranium across his chest glittering. His eyes were lifeless and dull like a shark’s. His fist was clenched around his spear as he came toward Shuri. Her mother started to go to her—obviously to protect her from Namor but stilled when Shuri held out her palm to her.
Namor grabbed the front of Shuri’s collar, lifted her and slammed her against the wall. She coughed out a breath. Queen Ramonda gasped.
“I should never have trusted you.” Namor told her. “You will come to Talokan and answer for your crime.”
“She will do no such thing!” Queen Ramonda yelled.
“Mother! Please!” Shuri didn’t want to get her involved. This was between her and Namor. Her husband.
While Shuri didn’t kill the Talokanil woman, a member of her nation did. Shuri’s duty as princess of Wakanda was to take responsibility for her people. Namor understood this as a king himself, so it must be why he wants her and not Nakia to answer for the killing. Not that Shuri would sell Nakia out anyway.
“Namor.” Shuri began slowly. “A member of my court came to save me from you. She didn’t know about the terms of our agreement.
“Agreement? What agreement?” The queen asked.
“Mother.” Shuri said firmly. Namor glanced over at Queen Ramonda before watching Shuri again.
“You didn’t even tell her.” Namor scoffed. “How much of it was real? Between you and I? What we shared?”
They had like…three conversations and Namor acted like they were divorcing after thirty years of marriage because of her infidelity. It would be funny if he didn’t look at her like he wanted to strangle the life out of her.
“It was all real.” Shuri said. “But my people needed me, and you cannot say that if you were in my shoes, your people wouldn’t have done the same thing.”
Namor took a breath. Shuri was getting through to him. He was turning out to be a soft touch with her.
“Tell your people to stop laying siege to Wakanda and we can talk about this.”
“Why should I trust you? After all you’ve done?” Namor asked.
“Because you love me.” Shuri said. Queen Ramonda mouth dropped open. Looks like she put two and two together.
“What did you do to her, you savage?!”
“Nothing she did not want me to, Queen Mother.” Namor said but that only served to make the queen angrier. She went over to yank Namor’s hand off of Shuri, but he didn’t budge.
“Mother! Stop it! I will explain it all. We can all stay calm and talk.” Shuri said. “Tell your people to stop.”
Namor took his hand off Shuri and she dropped to the floor. He flew out of the window. Queen Ramonda rushed to Shuri’s side.
“I’m fine.” Shuri said as she stood. “You must call off our soldiers.”
“Shuri—“
“Mother, please.”
The Queen took a deep breath before speaking into her communication device. With a few words the outside became silent. Shuri’s heart pounded. Her stomach twisted and Queen Ramonda wrapped her arms around Shuri as if to protect her.
Namor came back to the window, still frowning, covered in pearls of water. Guess that short trip did nothing to cool him off. He took a step toward Shuri, but Queen Ramonda stood in front of her. His frown deepened.
Shuri went around her mother to face Namor. He stared her down.
“If you desire it, I consider our agreement still valid.” Shuri said.
“What agreement?” Queen Ramonda asked firmly.
“She was queen of Talokan for a day.” Namor said. “Now she is criminal.”
Namor went to her, his arm touching hers. The orange blaze of the fire sewn shards of ruby in his dark eyes. The right side of his face was covered in shadow as he smiled at her.
“I apologize for the temperature, my Queen.”
Shuri smiled. “Oh, I’ll be fine. I mean, what can you do? You’re only a God.”
This time Namor did chuckle. “Do you really think me a God?”
“No. There are no Gods.” Shuri said. If there were, they would’ve saved my brother who was just and good. He was Bast’s greatest warrior, and she let him die.
“Hm.” Namor said with a frown. Her stomach sank.
“But your people would die for you without hesitation, so you’re just as good as one.” Shuri rushed out before watching the floor like a wilting flower. Hopefully she wasn’t screwing up the marriage already. At least wait until Riri is safe. Jeez.
Namor turned to her. He pointed his index finger under her chin and guided it up until she watched him. She had never seen eyes so dark. They were like coal. “Never change your answer, yourself, for me. I married the princess of Wakanda, not a spineless jellyfish.”
“Even a jellyfish has her sting.” Shuri said before watching the fire again. Namor placed his large hand on her lower back, making her feel thin and breakable. He pulled her close, leaned in, his soft breath tickled her earlobe and made the hair on the back of her neck stand up. He smelled of wildflowers and honey. She turned her head toward him and moved her mouth toward his too quickly. Their teeth smacked together.
“Ah, shoot.” Shuri covered her mouth with her hand, trying to quell the dull, throbbing pain of the front of her teeth—they weren’t broken, and she wasn’t bleeding but still, ow. Namor looked completely unfazed.
“Did I hurt you?” He asked.
“Are you made of diamond? Jeez.”
Namor chuckled. “No, I am flesh. Though a sturdier kind.”
Shuri would love to see a piece of his DNA underneath a microscope, find out what makes him as strong and tough as a rhino. She pushed that thought down. What an odd thing to think on your wedding day.
“I see.” Shuri said. “Should we try again?”
“I would like that.” Namor cupped the side of her face with his soft hand, holding her in place as he dipped down for a kiss. His lips were soft as a rose petal. Her eyes fluttered closed. She pressed back tentatively, tangling her fingers in her dress just to hold onto something. Namor put his thumb under her bottom lip and pulled down slightly. She got the idea and opened her mouth and he drunk her in—he tasted like the sea—briny and salty, but it was as sweet as wine in her mouth. The kiss was mixed with the flavor of fruit seeds she couldn’t name that Namor fed her earlier.
She’d only ever been kissed once and it was through her breathing apparatus about an hour ago, during the wedding ceremony. Now it's all-consuming, like water. Her hands shook as he gripped the nape of her neck to keep their mouths together. He didn’t need to breathe but Shuri did, so he put one of her hands between them until it found his chest and pressed against it. He pulled back until his hot breath buzzed against her lips.
Shuri shivered. There was fluttering in her stomach. “What now?”
Namor’s hand cupped the front of her throat, and his fingers close around her neck, gently. It was as if he couldn’t stop touching her. His thumb tugged at the corner of her mouth, dipping in slightly. Shuri’s face was on fire, but she kept their gazes locked.
“We are to consummate our marriage.” Namor said as he nodded toward the bed in the corner of the room before watching her again. “And we cannot leave this room until we do.”
“O-oh.” Shuri said. She had ‘the talk’ with her mother when she first bled at age thirteen. The Queen wanted her to be in her thirties, married, and in love before she so much as even looked at a man in a sensual manner and the man had better have been an upstanding Wakandan, rich like the handsome grandson of the Merchant Tribe elder. What would mother think if she could see her now, married to what could’ve been Wakanda’s destruction? A man—a king, a God who coerced her into his bed under threat of the life of another if she refused him? Would the queen think it noble or foolish? Hopefully Shuri would get the chance to ask her.
“Just…”
“I don’t mean to rush you.” Namor said gently.
“I know.” Shuri said too quickly, her face heating. “King, I mean, K'uk’…Jeez, I am very sure I am butchering your title.”
“You may call me king.”
“And Namor?”
“If you find it easier to pronounce.”
“King, Namor, I’ve never…ahem. I’m a virgin.”
“Ah, I see.” Namor said. He looked a little too pleased. “I trust you’re familiar with the concept?”
Round pegs in circular holes—Shuri couldn’t help but to think but thank Bast it didn’t come out of her mouth. She’d never been into pornography, and she thought more about algorithms than boys but she’s a woman of science, she knows the mechanics of most things and how bodies fit together to form new bodies. It’s simple math, 1+1=2.
“I am and I am ready.” Shuri said with more confidence than she felt. She couldn’t deny that Namor is beautiful, sculpted from marble like Adonis drizzled in caramel. Tall and broad with eyes and hair as dark as the deep sea. His personality so far is loving, gentle. She could almost forget the circumstances—the fight—that preceded the marriage, the abduction to the underworld. The threat of the death of Riri if Shuri didn’t give him what he wanted. Shuri could pretend that this was all her choice and that she was in love. Namor made it easy.
Namor’s eyes were heavy lidded, and his lips were slightly apart. He looked as if he was enchanted by her. He smoothly went behind her. On the back of her dress was jade buttons leading down to the top of her bottom. Obviously, this was the only way of getting it off safely. Namor popped them open one by one until the dress slipped down to her elbows, baring her unsexy undershirt underneath it. She wore no bra because she didn’t need one. Her breasts were small—too small. She pulled off the sleeves until the dress pooled down to ankles, revealing her boy cut underwear. She turned to face Namor, and he pulled her into a kiss. She looped her arms around his neck and drew him close until there was no space between them. He placed his hands on her sides—the dusky strip of skin between her undershirt and underwear sticking to Namor’s warm stomach. He was so solid-strong. It felt like he could snap her in half without even trying. Hopefully he’ll keep that in mind when they…have intercourse. He lifted her up with his hands under her thighs and she crossed her ankles behind him. She tightened her arms around his neck, and she clung to him. He pressed his lips under her jaw, causing a tingle to run down her spine as he walked with her to the bed. He placed her on it with care before climbing over her—the bed complained under their weight.
She thought she would lose her virginity on holiday in New York City. There would be candles and mood music. There would be rose petals on the bed and chocolate covered strawberries. It would be after a fancy dinner and a night on the town. Her lover never had a specific gender, but she couldn’t imagine in a million years it would’ve been a God of a world below.
Namor’s skin was the color of a reddish gold sunset. Eyes and hair as dark as the depths. Tongue soft. He inches back and placed his big hand on her stomach. She took a shaky breath as he swept his thumb over the bumps of her ribs, he watched her like she was a work of art, like she left him speechless.
“My Queen.” He said lowly as he dipped down to press his lips against hers for a beat before pulling back. “The prophesies do not do you justice.”
“Prophesies?” Shuri asked as she wrapped her arms around his waist, pulling him down over her until there was no space between them.
“I was to be married to a daughter of earth and fire. She would be patient, selfless, beautiful…and unite the kingdoms of land and sea.”
“How do you know I’m her?”
“How could you not be? Eyes the color of coffee bean, skin brown silk, and a rage that could burn a third of the surface world’s trees and green grass. A hail of fire mixed with with blood.”
“From the Christian book of revelations. 8:7.” Shuri said.
“And unbelievably intelligent. I’ve waited centuries for you.” Namor said as he hooked his fingers in the hem of her underwear. She lifted her hips as he slid them down her legs. Her forehead was damp from sweat. No man had ever seen this much of her. She slipped off her undershirt and it pooled on to the floor. Her hand went up to cover her breasts, but Namor pinned her arms above her head with one of his hands gripping her wrists. “Every inch of you is perfection.”
“I-I bet you say that to every queen on your wedding night.” Shuri joked, flexing her wrists clutched in his fist. Namor must’ve taken what she said seriously.
“There have been no others.”
“So, you’re a 500-year-old virgin?”
Namor chuckled before brushing his lips against hers. “No. I know what I am doing.”
“That makes one of us.”
“Were you never curious?” Namor asked.
“I consider myself a girl—ahem, a woman of science. I know the ins and uh, outs,” Phrasing, boom! Shuri couldn’t stop herself from thinking. “But I’m not much of a porno person.”
“Porno?”
“Oh, of course you don’t know what that is.” Shuri could smack herself upside the head. “It’s…on the surface world some people are paid to, um, simulate breeding for others to…see.”
Namor’s eyebrows rose. Shuri’s face could’ve been on fire. This was so awkward. Bast.
“It’s a form of erotic..stimulation.” Shuri tried to explain away.
“I illustrate paintings.” Namor said as if he were trying to make her feel better. “For erotic stimulation.”
Shuri pressed her lips against his to bring his attention back to the subject at hand, instead of how hard she’s bombing. He let her wrist go and weighed her down, the vibranium covering him glittering in the fire. Namor pulled back and stood, carefully removing the jewelry across his neck and decorating his arms. He placed them on the nightstand. He then unhooked that WWE championship like metal belt before sliding those tiny green shorts down his strong legs. He unlatched his footwear.
Shuri had never seen a man naked outside of an artistic context. The reflection of the flames danced across the expanse of his wide chest, his stomach was taught, his…down there looked too big to fit inside her and was covered with black hair on the base. Now they’re both naked. Namor knelt between her legs and took her ankle in one of his hands to spread her open.
“Wait, what about protection?” Shuri asked.
“Protection?”
“I don’t think you have a disease that could be transmitted sexually, but I wonder about preventing pregnancy.”
“Preventing? My Queen, that is the entire point of us lying together.”
“Wait, what? Now?”
“Yes, now.” Namor said. “The daughter of earth and fire will bear the son of air and water a child that could walk between worlds.”
“A child? I’m only twenty.”
“You are of sexual maturity for a human.”
“I am but…I’m not sure I want to be a mother yet.”
“This was our agreement. You are my Queen. There are certain responsibilities that come with that title, certain sacrifices.”
“So, it has to be now?”
“According to the prophesies, you conceive on our wedding night.” Namor said. “I do not go against prophesies.”
“Then…”
“Then?” He said lowly, dangerously.
Shuri swallowed thickly. Just when she thought marrying Namor to save Riri couldn’t be any less of a plan, he wanted to get her pregnant! Could she call this whole thing off? He only agreed to spare the student if Shuri became his queen. This would be seen as a dealbreaker and then it’ll be all out war. He would kill Riri and probably her, dragging Wakanda into a conflict with the entire ocean. Bast! Okay, just because she’s getting pregnant doesn’t mean she has to stay pregnant—morning after pill and all that. She’ll give him what he wanted and figure a way out later.
“…Neither shall I.” Shuri finished as she spread her thighs. A smile rose on Namor’s face as he gently cupped his hands under her knees, holding her open as he slides in between her thighs. He lets one of her knees go before using his finger to slide down to her entrance. She kept her legs open as he dipped his finger inside her. She bit her lip against the slight burn. He used his thumb to rub against her clitoris. Her breathing picked up as the sensation of pleasure washed over her. Namor stuck his finger into the hilt and held it there, never letting up on rubbing her button. Her moans were breathy, and her toes curled. Her mouth dropped open as Namor watched her as if he were enchanted.
“The sounds you make…” Namor said, as soft as candlelight. “You are music, you are art, you are everything.”
Shuri wanted to cover her face—flattered, but embarrassed. She had no idea how to respond to any of that, but he stuck another finger in her and she cried out—her voice repeated through the quiet dwelling. Hopefully Riri couldn’t hear that. Shuri’s not sure the student would agree with this plan. The internal validity (or weakness) of the plan to marry and breed with Namor would be if the God would even honor this agreement of not killing Riri if Shuri gave him what he wanted: her. Men have told bigger lies than this to get laid.
If he goes back on his word, I will kill him myself. A part of Shuri said. A part she barely recognized, a part that awakened in her after her brother died.
Her eyes fluttered closed as Namor kept his index and middle finger deep inside her while rubbing clit. She tangled her fingers in the fur blanket under her while using her other hand to push at his stomach, not sure what she wanted. She bit her lip and rocked her hips against his fingers, urging him to move. He took his fingers away and tucked them in his mouth. Shuri shuddered, her…down there…felt too empty and wet. Her breathing was shallow and there was a slickness on her skin that wasn’t due to humidity. She didn’t need to lie back and think of Wakanda to get through procreating with Namor. She wanted this. She was ready.
She sat up and climbed into his lap, holding herself to him by wrapping her arms around his neck. He gasped—probably at her body heat and how close her entrance was to his dick. He steadied her with his arm around her waist, keeping her flush against him, her breasts against his chest. His chuckle was deep, and it vibrated through his body like a purr.
“Never in my centuries of living have I had a maiden not be intimidated by me.”
“If you want to be intimidating, you shouldn’t wear those tiny green shorts.”
Namor laughed lowly. “You surprise me, my Queen. The lack of deference…”
“Would you like me to use deference?” Shuri asked before stealing his answer by giving him a wet kiss. He shuddered against her before they pulled apart.
“You should. I am K'uk'ulkan.” Namor said.
Shuri pulled back an inch to look into his eyes. She needed to gauge how serious he was. If she was screwing this up somehow…He looked as if he were under her own personal spell. What he wanted was an equal, after being revered all his life. He didn’t want Shuri to be afraid to look him in the eyes or hold her tongue. He wanted a queen, not a concubine. She could be that for him.
“And I was the princess of the most powerful nation in the world.” Shuri said. “Now I am queen of another. Perhaps it is you who should use deference.”
Namor answered by pressing their lips together with the intensity of a punch—well, that’s not true. Her jaw would be broken because Namor seemed like he was molded from the same vibranium he usually wore on his chest. He picked her up like she weighed as much as a feather before taking her over to the wooden table in the middle of the room. He knocked the plates of grapes and fish to the ground. The wine bottle shattered into confetti as it soaked into the cracks in the floor like blood. Shuri inwardly groaned, she wanted some of that.
Namor laid her on the table, bending over to kiss her again. Shuri’s thighs bracketed his waist, as his dick rubbed against her entrance. He sighed into her mouth as he rocked against her, never fully getting inside her. Shuri burned down there—she needed him in, so she angled her hips down. Namor stood up from her and wrapped his strong hand against the front of her neck to keep her pinned to the table. He used his other hand to grab the base of his dick and press it into Shuri. Shuri groaned as he entered her, slowly pushing into until he couldn’t anymore.
Shuri squeaked as she grasped the side of the table. She clenched her eyes shut against the burn and unbearable pleasure of being full. He was deep inside her—she could almost feel it in her stomach. She clenched around him, trying to get use to his girth. She was sticky with sweat, her lips quivered.
Namor took deep, slow breaths—as if he were trying to contain himself. It was irritating how composed he was trying to be. Always dignified. What could she do to break that composure? Shuri laid still, waiting for the raw newness of being penetrated to fade. When she became slicker, she moved her hip down causing him to slide even deeper into her.
He gasped—the mask of calmness finally slipping. He gripped the end of the table, the sturdy wood crumbling in his hand like granola. That made Shuri freeze.
“Remember,” Shuri said breathlessly. “I am not made out of stone.”
Namor chuckled before pulling out of her an inch and pushing back in, fucking her slow. His quiet, quick breaths filled up the dwelling. She clenched her toes as he picked up the pace, but not the force.
Shuri mewled and moaned, unable to stop herself. Her mouth hung open as she shut her eyes. Every time he filled her, there was fireworks behind her eyelids. It was overwhelming, nothing like the touches she gave herself before getting bored and stopping. Her breath caught as surges of pleasure shot through her. Her thighs shook.
The coarseness of the wooden table under her chafed her back. The wooden legs bluntly scrubbed against the floor with each push of Namor’s hips. He was more forceful now, knocking groans out of her. He was eerily quiet as he placed his soft hand on her stomach.
Shuri bent up slightly to thread her fingers into his hair and pull him down on top of her. His rhythm fumbled as she kissed him like she wanted to devour him. He wrapped his arms around her and lifted her hips slightly to pound into her—finally losing that cool façade. Shuri held on to his shoulders, her fingers turning to claws as cried out every time she was filled. She came, her vision whiting out as she shook, the pleasure flooded over her as her voice went high. Namor stilled inside her, holding her close to himself.
Shuri’s breathing was labored as she went limp, staring up at Namor. The flinching fire made flecks of gold on his skin. His hair was mussed from her running her fingers through it. He was so strong on top of her. She felt so tiny in the wake of him. She tapped him with her foot to get him to move. He fucked into her forcefully, obviously not hard enough to hurt her, just enough for the undercurrent of burning to arise in her. He moved quickly, using her like a toy until he stilled, coming deep inside her. His grip on her hips felt hard enough to bruise as she bit her bottom lip.
They stay there catching their breaths. Namor stayed pinned inside her, probably trying to make sure of conception. Shuri couldn’t worry about that now. Would he honor their agreement now that they’ve slept together? Now that they’re married? Was Riri safe?
Namor pulled out of her, and Shuri felt slickness seep out. His come. Yuck.
Shuri sat up at the end of the table while Namor sat on the bed. In between her thighs hurt so she had trouble closing her legs. They watch each other like a showdown. The romance movies never portrayed after sex awkwardness. What does a princess…Queen…and a God talk about? He’d seen centuries worth of treasures, rises and falls of empires, entire histories play out over and over again, but if those things weren’t on the internet or in books, Shuri didn’t know them.
“So,” Shuri began as she picked at her nail beds with her thumb. The coolness washed over her, making her realize she was completely naked. “Have sex with a God. Check.”
“You are making a list?”
“A Beyoncé concert is next.”
“Beyoncé?”
“I have so much to teach you.” Shuri said.
“And I would love to learn.” Namor said. “Come to me. I would like to lie with you.”
“I must visit Riri first. I’ve been gone hours. I need to let her know you did not cook and eat me.”
Namor chuckled before speaking. “I expect you back after.”
“Okay.” Shuri said. “About Riri…”
“I will honor my promise. If you stay with me and Wakanda becomes an ally to Talokan, the scientist lives, and there will be peace. I’m sure you’ll both be very happy here.”
Shuri hadn’t told Riri Namor expected them to both live out the rest of their days in his underworld. That couldn’t happen but she’ll take what she could get right now. At least they’re safe.
There was still the matter of him wanting to wage war on the entire surface world, but Lemonade wasn’t recorded in a day. Ideas take time to seed and grow. She was confident she could convince Namor Wakanda and Talokan could come to a peaceful solution with America and the rest of the world.
Shuri gets dressed in her bridal gown and gives Namor a deep kiss. There was still that dull ache between her legs as she was led by her new lady in waiting back to where they kept Riri.
The Talokanil woman is sprawled out on the floor, clutching a hole in her abdomen. Her eyes are shiny with tears. She’s shaking as Nakia stood over her holding a weapon.
“No.” Shuri whispers and rushes over, bending down over the woman. She tried to save her, but the woman fell limp, her eyes rolled to the back of her head. The damage was done. Nakia tells Shuri they have to leave before reinforcements arrive.
“You don’t understand! This will mean war!” Shuri needed to find Namor, to apologize to-to explain the situation. She had never seen his wrath—his anger. He didn’t seem the type to rush to judgement. Though she only had three conversations and sex with him. He looked at her as if the sun rose in her eyes. He loved her. That had to mean something, right?
Nakia and Riri drag her away and they escape. While being wrapped in the warm embrace of her mother, she knows Namor is not far behind.
Wakanda was a golden nation, the fresh wind swept through the market bringing the smell of bread, fruits, flowers, and sweets into Shuri’s lab. It was nothing like being in the dark, heart shaped tomb of Namor where the only light was silk stuck in the canopy of a cave like trapped stars. Wakanda glowed in comparison, the sunshine stretching over the blades of grass, making the world surrounding the city shine like a field of crystals. She never appreciated her home until she’s been somewhere different for a while.
Shuri watched the city from the screens in her lab and couldn’t help but to see it drowned in water. Namor was coming. Her stomach cramped with nervousness. It had been about ten hours since she’d been rescued. She’d eaten, bathed, and tried to sleep but was not successful. She’d shooed away doctors and assured her mother three times that Namor had not harmed her. Shuri hadn’t told the queen that she married or slept with him. She might never.
“Griot?”
“Yes, princess?”
“I need a body scan.” Shuri said before she laid on her table like so many other of her experiments and inventions before her. She kept her arms pinned by her side as purple lights traveled from her shoes to her forehead. A silhouette of herself appeared on a screen. There was a red circle in her uterus. Oh.
“You are pregnant.”
“What is the accuracy?”
“98%.”
“Bast.” Shuri could always wait and take an over-the-counter pregnancy test, but they were so primitive. With that, it could take weeks to know for sure.
“Should I alert the queen?”
“I cannot express how much I do not want you to do that.”
“Yes, princess.”
Shuri sat on the side of the table and rubbed her temples. She was a 21st century woman and a woman of science. Whether she considered it a child at this stage was purely academic. Moral and religious arguments aside, she was not ready to be a mother. Especially with a man whose physiology, genetics, and temperament she could only guess. She also really, really didn’t want to tell her mother she slept with Namor, and that she enjoyed it.
Shuri could create something quick and painless to terminate the pregnancy with a snap of her fingers. No one had to know. She better get to it.
Shuri’s mouth went dry and sweat collected on her skin. Her hands shook. Namor told Shuri about his mother—how she became the hope of his people as they drowned themselves to escape their oppressors. Shuri was in the same position as her-to bear a leader to bridge worlds. They were hundreds of years apart and one only existed in memory, but Shuri felt her hand guiding her.
Namor scorned the surface world and wished to see it toil in a hail of fire but marrying Shuri symbolized unity, forgiveness. So did the child she carried. Shuri was Namor’s one anchor to a world outside of the sea. The sole reason he might reconsider war with the entire world. This child could strengthen her position with him. Convince him that good still exists outside of the ocean. There can be peace.
Bast. Was she keeping this fucking baby?
“Princess! Multiple breaches into the perimeters of Wakanda!”
The waters swelled and the Talokanil crawled out of it—splashed across the screens in her lab were flashes water exploding through buildings, Wakandans heading for higher ground. Her soldiers had been warned the city could be attacked so they were ready as they headed straight to the warriors of the deep. There was a flicker in the sky-Namor.
Shuri rushed to the throne room. It’s her best guess as to where Namor was headed. She closed the door on Okoye’s face and bolted it. The throne room’s door was pure vibranium, designed to keep out all enemies, including fellow Wakandans. Now she was alone, save her mother, who watched Shuri with wide eyes.
“Shuri? What are you doing?” Queen Ramonda asked.
“Mother, no matter what happens, do not attack Namor.” Shuri said. “You need to let me handle it.”
“Are you insane? I’m not letting him anywhere near you.” Queen Ramonda said.
“Listen to me! There has to be no more bloodshed. Keep the Dora Milaje out of the throne room. I need to speak with him alone.”
“I am not leaving you.” The Queen said. “That is out of the question.”
“Fine.” Shuri said. “But you have to trust me.”
The Queen pursed her lips. For once she kept her thoughts to herself. She must’ve seen the look on Shuri’s face.
The glass of the windows shattered, sending shimmering shards of gold flying everywhere. Namor, in all his furious glory stood on the windowsill. The white sun bloomed behind him like a halo, the vibranium across his chest glittering. His eyes were lifeless and dull like a shark’s. His fist was clenched around his spear as he came toward Shuri. Her mother started to go to her—obviously to protect her from Namor but stilled when Shuri held out her palm to her.
Namor grabbed the front of Shuri’s collar, lifted her and slammed her against the wall. She coughed out a breath. Queen Ramonda gasped.
“I should never have trusted you.” Namor told her. “You will come to Talokan and answer for your crime.”
“She will do no such thing!” Queen Ramonda yelled.
“Mother! Please!” Shuri didn’t want to get her involved. This was between her and Namor. Her husband.
While Shuri didn’t kill the Talokanil woman, a member of her nation did. Shuri’s duty as princess of Wakanda was to take responsibility for her people. Namor understood this as a king himself, so it must be why he wants her and not Nakia to answer for the killing. Not that Shuri would sell Nakia out anyway.
“Namor.” Shuri began slowly. “A member of my court came to save me from you. She didn’t know about the terms of our agreement.
“Agreement? What agreement?” The queen asked.
“Mother.” Shuri said firmly. Namor glanced over at Queen Ramonda before watching Shuri again.
“You didn’t even tell her.” Namor scoffed. “How much of it was real? Between you and I? What we shared?”
They had like…three conversations and Namor acted like they were divorcing after thirty years of marriage because of her infidelity. It would be funny if he didn’t look at her like he wanted to strangle the life out of her.
“It was all real.” Shuri said. “But my people needed me, and you cannot say that if you were in my shoes, your people wouldn’t have done the same thing.”
Namor took a breath. Shuri was getting through to him. He was turning out to be a soft touch with her.
“Tell your people to stop laying siege to Wakanda and we can talk about this.”
“Why should I trust you? After all you’ve done?” Namor asked.
“Because you love me.” Shuri said. Queen Ramonda mouth dropped open. Looks like she put two and two together.
“What did you do to her, you savage?!”
“Nothing she did not want me to, Queen Mother.” Namor said but that only served to make the queen angrier. She went over to yank Namor’s hand off of Shuri, but he didn’t budge.
“Mother! Stop it! I will explain it all. We can all stay calm and talk.” Shuri said. “Tell your people to stop.”
Namor took his hand off Shuri and she dropped to the floor. He flew out of the window. Queen Ramonda rushed to Shuri’s side.
“I’m fine.” Shuri said as she stood. “You must call off our soldiers.”
“Shuri—“
“Mother, please.”
The Queen took a deep breath before speaking into her communication device. With a few words the outside became silent. Shuri’s heart pounded. Her stomach twisted and Queen Ramonda wrapped her arms around Shuri as if to protect her.
Namor came back to the window, still frowning, covered in pearls of water. Guess that short trip did nothing to cool him off. He took a step toward Shuri, but Queen Ramonda stood in front of her. His frown deepened.
Shuri went around her mother to face Namor. He stared her down.
“If you desire it, I consider our agreement still valid.” Shuri said.
“What agreement?” Queen Ramonda asked firmly.
“She was queen of Talokan for a day.” Namor said. “Now she is criminal.”
“I agreed to marry him in exchange for Riri’s safety.”
“You what?!” Queen Ramonda yelled.
“And now the marriage is void. You will come to Talokan to answer for your crime, and you will give me the scientist, or I will wash Wakanda from the face of the earth and kill her.” Namor said nodding toward the queen.
Shuri slapped him across the face. She couldn’t stop herself. He grabbed her wrist tightly and pulled her in until his breath brushed against her lips. How strange that hours ago they were this close under a completely different context? His lips were on hers, his body pressing her into the table. Now anger flooded from him to mask a deep hurt. Shuri would’ve felt guilty if it weren’t for the fact that he was making threats.
Queen Ramonda went over to them, but Namor pushed her back. Her mother fell to the floor before sitting back up. She put her communication device up to her lips.
“Don’t call for help, mother. He is not going to hurt me.”
“Are you so certain, princess?” Namor asked.
“Shuri.” There was something desperate in her mother’s voice.
“I will not give you the scientist. You will leave Wakanda standing and if you threaten my mother again, I will rip your throat out with my teeth.”
Namor chuckled humorlessly. “Princess—“
“Queen.” Shuri corrected. “Of Talokan.”
“Queen.” Namor said. “There will be a trial.”
“And the punishment if I am found guilty?” Shuri asked.
“For a queen that is the daughter of a Talokanil, she would be stripped of her title and exiled.”
“And for me? A foreign queen?”
“Death.”
“No!” Queen Ramonda screamed.
“It…does not have to be you. You can appoint an avatar in your place to bear the punishment.” Namor said. He didn’t want to kill her. That was good, but he would want someone to die in her place, which was bad.
“No one else is dying.” Shuri said. “You will forgive me.”
The throne room was silent enough that the sounds of birds came in through the broken window. Namor’s grip on her arm loosened but he didn’t let her go. Nobody moved. It was as if they were all frozen by the glare of Medusa. The white sunshine fell through the window, in with it came the heat. Shuri was sticky with sweat, but summer wasn’t the culprit. Her mouth dried and her eyes itched with tears. Her mother’s mouth was open as her gaze went to Shuri before going to Namor. The queen was disgusted. Shuri lost her girlhood to someone she shouldn’t, someone her mother didn’t approve of, someone who could destroy her nation, someone her mother thought of as a monster. Shuri enjoyed sleeping with him. Did that make her a monster as well?
Her mother grabbed a spear from behind the throne and struck Namor. He was caught off guard and fell backwards to the floor. The queen struck down with the sharp part of her weapon. Shuri grabbed it, but the blade hit Namor’s side anyway, the point bending on his flesh. This spear must not have been vibranium.
“Mother! Mother! Stop!” Shuri yanked the spear from Queen Ramonda’s hands and stood in front of Namor. Queen Ramonda chest rose and fell with deep, quick breaths. If looks could kill, Namor’s blood would be painting the marble floor.
“How dare you?!” The queen watched Namor as if Shuri wasn’t there. “How dare you touch her?!”
“She is my queen.”
“She is my daughter! And you’ve defiled her!”
Shuri licked her dry lips, still being a barrier between Namor and her mother. Was she defiled? In some way ‘lesser’ in her mother’s eyes? Did the aftermath of sex usually come with the aching hole of guilt? Never matter. She needed to find a way to quell their anger. If their argument even had room for her. She had two masters now, Queen Ramonda and Namor. She couldn’t decide who to side with, although, there is no point in knowing what you want when the forces contending over you could kill you.
“Mother, I…” Shuri couldn’t find the words to continue.
“We are getting that thing out of you!” The queen yelled to Shuri before watching Namor. “And you! Consider this a declaration of war!”
Namor got to his feet behind Shuri and pushed her until she fell to the side. He stood in front of her mother. He never raised his voice, his rage as quiet as the ocean when it drowned someone. Queen Ramonda stood her ground. Her mother wasn’t afraid of anything.
“If you bring harm to the prince of my people, if you try to take Shuri away from me, I will make you watch as I bury your kingdom and all your subjects in water.” Namor said, obviously not getting the irony of pushing Shuri to the floor while claiming to protect their unborn child. “Then I will kill you.”
“Ha! You can try.” Queen Ramonda said.
Shuri slid between them. “That is enough! I said we are going to talk!”
“There is nothing to talk about!” The queen shouted. “This creature is the enemy of Wakanda! Look what he’s done to you! I will inform the Council to prepare for war! You will pay!”
“Wakanda cannot win a war with Talokan.” Namor said. “But, please, feel free to try.”
The queen took out her communication device. Shuri grabbed it from her. Her mother looked at her as if she sprouted another head.
“We are going to stay calm!” Shuri yelled, ignoring the irony of screaming while asking her husband and mother to calm down. “Mother! Namor! Listen, please!
The queen took a deep breath before watching Shuri. Namor watched her as well.
“I am keeping the child.” Shuri said.
“No, you are not!”
“Mother, I am.”
“Your daughter made a vow to me.” Namor said. “She was to be my queen and bear my children.”
“It was made under duress!” Queen Ramonda shouted. “It was rape, you savage!”
Shuri was abducted. She was not abducted. She went willingly. She had no choice but to go. Can all paths be true? Or would that be a mess of contradictions? All humans are a bunch of contradictions in skin. It doesn’t matter. Calling it rape sounds wrong to her. It didn’t agree with how she felt. She could’ve fallen in love with Namor, given time. She could’ve even had children with him, if their stars were different but wishing it was doesn’t make it so. She was pregnant with Namor’s child, she is keeping it, there will be no war, she is not living out the rest of her days in the depths. Riri will go home safely. These are the facts. Her mother and Namor will have to deal with the situation.
“Mother, I am having this child as I am married to Namor.” Shuri said. “Namor, I will not live in Talokan, as my home is here in Wakanda. You two will just have to come to an agreement with me.”
“You can’t do this.” Queen Ramonda said. “I can’t lose you too.”
“My son will be born in Talokan.” Namor said.
“Fine. I will spend equal amounts of time in Wakanda and Talokan.” Shuri said. “Riri will go home. I am certain I can convince her to never build her vibranium detector again.”
“Shuri—“Her mother began.
“The scientist—“ Namor said at the same time.
“Silence! Both of you!” Shuri surprised herself by yelling. It was equally surprising when they fell silent, since they were both Type A personalities and all of that. Shuri took a breath to stop herself from crying before speaking. “It will take time to adjust to this, but this is my final word.”
Her mother’s eyes were wet as she went to the shattered window, looking out over her kingdom as the day surrendered to night in a golden bloom. Namor stood in front of Shuri and cupped her face in both his velvet hands. He put his forehead against her’s. She wrapped her arms around herself as if she were trying to keep her guts from spilling on the floor.
“Do you want this? Truly?” Queen Ramonda asked, not looking toward Shuri and Namor.
“Yes, mother.” Shuri said as she walked to her mother. She hovered her hand over her mother’s shoulder but let it drop before it touched her.
The queen walked quickly until she stood in front of Namor, her eyes narrowed. “Do you love her?”
“Yes. My love for her outnumbers all the stars in the sky.” Namor said.
“If anything happens to her, I will boil you alive and wipe out Talokan.” Queen Ramonda said.
“If anything happens to my son, I will kill you and Wakanda will be the first nation to fall under Talokan’s might.” Namor said. The queen scanned Namor from his feet until she met his gaze again.
“Bast forbid the child get those ears.” Queen Ramonda said before sitting on the throne. She rubbed her temples.
Namor scoffed. Shuri was grateful he didn’t say anything else to rile her mother back up. Shuri blew out a breath she didn’t know she was holding. She felt pulled in two directions like a rubber band stretched to the brink, but the immediate bomb was defused. Now it’s time to use this momentum to talk about the war with the entire world thing Namor wanted. Also, maybe her impending trial? Was she still on the hook for that?
“Come on.” Shuri said to Namor. “We can talk in—“
“He’s not allowed in your room.” Queen Ramonda said.
“Mother, I’m twenty.”
“I am allowed wherever my son is.”
“Namor. Seriously.” Shuri said. “I am still a person. Not just a vessel for your, our, child.”
“Mother and child are one in Talokan.”
“You’re not in Talokan. You’re in my kingdom.” Queen Ramonda said.
“Shuri is now Talokanil, as she is my queen. My son is Talokanil.”
“Shuri and the child are just as much Wakandan.” The queen said. “Which means, Shuri and you will be married here. There needs to be proper documentation. Allyship between nations. I will convene the Council.”
“Thanks, mother.” Shuri said.
“Shuri?” Queen Ramonda asked her name.
“Yes?”
“You don’t have to do this. I can protect you from him. I can protect the scientist as well. Just say the word and I can help you.”
“Mother, I do not need help, only your understanding.”
“Bast.” Queen Ramonda sighed. “Fine, child, fine. Though, if in the future, if you ever needed to get away from him—“
“Why would she ever want to, Queen Mother?” Namor asked, sarcasm dripping into his tone for the first time. Queen Ramonda narrowed her eyes before turning back to stare at the vibranium doors. Her hard glare was almost enough to burn through it.
“Follow me.” Shuri told Namor before walking to the doors. She unlatched them to see the entirety of the Dora Milaje on the other side, led by Okoye. They had their spears pointed toward them.
“You!” Okoye shouted—curiously, the woman wasn’t wearing her armor, just a sleek black dress. The rest of the women followed suit and pointed their spears in Namor’s direction. Fucking hell.
“Not now.” Shuri said. Her emotional battery level ran low. “It’s sorted.”
“My queen?” Okoye asked her mother.
“Let them through.” Queen Ramonda said almost too quietly to hear. The women lifted their spears in unison and stood straight. Shuri walked past them and into the hallway.
The sun sank, bathing the corridor in a golden light. The large windows were smashed, glass and water shimmering on the floor. Her staff had mops and brooms as they tried too hard not to look at Namor. The buses ran again, and streetlamps blinked on as Wakandans came out of hiding, news crews filming in front of the palace. Their soldiers were still out in force, but the Talokanil were gone. Namor must’ve sent them back to the sea. Shuri couldn’t imagine Namora leaving her God unprotected. She’s probably still stalking around in the bushes, waiting for Shuri to mess up so she could put a spear through her. Namora always looked at Shuri as if she wanted to light her on fire.
Namor stopped to look out over Shuri’s city. Wakanda at night was a sea of glitter, the pearls of streetlights, hum of vehicles, obsidian towers, and the lush green jungle beyond was a marvel. The fireflies only added to the magic. Shuri and Namor could sit out in the courtyard and count them. Not a bad date idea. Had Namor ever done that?
Shuri stood next to him and bumped his arm with hers. She looked up at him and saw the mystified wonder on his face. Shuri was proud to show him her nation as he had shown her his.
“It’s quite the view, isn’t it?” Shuri asked.
“It is amazing.” Namor said. “When I look at Wakanda, its people, its way of life, I do not understand why you would reveal your secret to the world. Why would you risk this?”
Shuri shrugged. “My brother wanted to help people who look like us who are suffering in other parts of the world. We have outreach programs now. We couldn’t do that when we were separated from everyone else.”
“They do not deserve Wakanda’s help.” Namor said. “They would conquer your nation, if given the chance.”
“Or we can learn from each other, if given the chance.” Shuri said.
“You are so young, so trusting, so naive. We will change that before my son is born.” Namor walked from the window. Shuri took that as a sign to keep leading him to her room, which lay at the end of the corridor.
Her bed was queen sized and pressed against a wall made of glass, overlooking the city. The sky has an iridescent strip overhead with black buildings eating into it. Her bed was a lumpy mess of tossed blankets and pillows as it has been since her brother died. It didn’t seem as important to make it while she was barely holding everything together. There were tech magazines carpeting her white, marble floor and her fuzzy pink slippers peeked from under the bed. Her closet was wedged open by a pile of clothes on the floor. The bin she used as a nightstand was open, her old stuffed animals scattered around it. She’d ripped it apart while trying to find the stuffed panther T’Challa had given her years ago. Her lamp was on the floor, near the bin. It was low enough to melt the room with shadow. Her room smelled of expired Febreze lilac, and it was tepid.
Bast. The place was a mess. She shouldn’t have brought Namor here.
“I live out of my lab.” Shuri said. “My room falls to the wayside.”
Namor smiled and picked up a Berry Beauties magazine she’d stolen from her brother when she was fifteen. Smeared across its pages were busty, scantily clad Wakandan nymphs. Shuri snatched it out of Namor’s hands before he could open it.
“Not that one.” Shuri said.
“Why not?”
“You wouldn’t find it interesting. Don’t question your queen.” Shuri said.
“I would not dare. You would sic your mother on me.” Namor said, catching her playful drift. “She is a lioness. I cannot fault her for wanting to protect her young.”
“We prefer panthers. It is sort of our whole thing.” Shuri said. “And yes, I’m quite fond of my mother as well.” Shuri stood at the end of her bed and waved him over. “We need to discuss our marriage and what it means for our nations.”
Namor went to her and before she could sit back on her bed, he knelt in front of her as if to worship. He moved his hand to pluck at the white buttons of Shuri’s light blue, long sleeve shirt until her shirt slipped down to her elbows, revealing her white sports bra underneath. Her heartbeat sped up as Namor pressed his soft lips against her stomach and hugged her around her waist, pulling her closer. He looked up at her, his eyes in the reflection of her lamp shining like New York City at night.
“My beautiful queen, soon to be full with my son.” Namor said, his warm breath against her stomach was ticklish. “I have never known a happiness like this.”
“Yes, I have heard pregnancy can often lead to...a baby.” Shuri said, awkwardly. Why must she make bad jokes when she’s uncomfortable? She’s not even sort of bad uncomfortable. She finds his attentions…flattering. He looked good on his knees.
Namor kissed her stomach again as an answer, before running his hot hand up her back. His other hand cupped her ass. He rubbed his cheek against her stomach as if he were trying to mark her with his scent. He guided her leg until it was over his shoulder. She balanced herself by tangling her fingers in his hair. He mouthed between her legs, hot breath causing her to shiver, as a stab of want went through her. She bit her bottom lip. Her leggings were too tight.
Shuri glanced out of her window, looking over the crown of buildings. She was too far up for anyone (her mother) to see she was getting to second base with the God that just attacked her nation. Bast, she had yet to hear a debrief or check the news about the casualties. Namor held her like they had just reunited after a long day, not like he had threatened to kill her mother, attacked Wakanda, and slammed her against the wall. This was selfish, at least wait until she knew the damage he had wrought before fucking him again. Shuri huffed and pushed him away. Namor sat back on the floor and watched her.
“Attacking my nation over a personal matter was childish.” Shuri said. “How many of my people have you killed today?”
“Queen, a member of your court murdered a young woman. As K'uk'ulkan it is my duty to seek justice.” Namor said. “Your actions have consequences.”
“No. You were upset because I left you. You are extremely vindictive.”
Namor stood. “You do not speak to me like that.”
I will speak to you however I want. Shuri didn’t say. She still hasn’t gauged how dangerous he was. The way he talked about their child was full of love so he would most likely not hurt her but there’s her mother and the people of Wakanda to consider. They could be seen as collateral.
“I am your husband, I am K'uk'ulkan.” Namor continued. “As such, you will respect me.”
“And I am your wife. I am Shuri, princess of Wakanda and queen of Talokan.” Shuri said. “As such, I will tell you what I think of your decisions and how stupid they are.”
Namor gripped her neck and pulled her to him. She tripped over her feet. He did not press down as to choke her, but his grip was tight. Her heart pounded but she would not show fear, not in her own nation. The fear turned to ashes as the inferno of anger grew inside her. This fury found a home inside her after T’Challa died. It threatened to consume her, and she cannot stop thinking about unleashing it on Namor.
The watch she wore could turn into vibranium dagger. It was designed for the new Black Panther, if they ever were to get one. She will carve out Namor’s heart if he tries to hurt her or her mother.
“Let me go.” Shuri said. “Now.”
“You do not make demands of me. You do not insult me. You are to obey me for the rest of your days, as you are mine.”
“Is that what your prophesies state?” Shuri asked.
“Yes.”
“Then I am not that woman.”
“You are the daughter of earth and fire promised to me, and you will act accordingly.”
“I will act in any way I please.” Shuri wrapped her hand around his wrist. “If you value your hand, take it off of me.”
Namor stared her down in the near dark. She watched him as well. She will not flinch. She put her free arm behind her back and pressed the button on her watch, unsheathing the dagger. Her hand curled around the handle of the blade.
Namor’s lips on hers were forceful, as if he were trying to drink her down. Her eyebrows raised. Every time she questioned him, displayed disobedience, treated him like an equal, his respect for her grew. Shuri was probably the first person to challenge him in centuries. She slipped the dagger back into the watch.
Shuri pushed at his chest until he got the hint and stepped back. He blew out a breath before speaking.
“I have killed no one, queen. Even your soldiers the Talokanil merely incapacitated. I did not come to destroy Wakanda. I came to get answers.”
“To what?”
“The murder of that young woman.” Namor said. “And…”
“And?”
“…You were right. I needed to know why you left. I thought we were happy.”
Again: they’d only had three conversations up to that point.
“I left because I missed my mother and my nation. I would’ve come back,” She would’ve? That’s a surprise. “After I let everyone know I was safe. The young Talokanil woman—
“Zuma was her name.” Namor said.
“Zuma. I regret her death greatly. A member of my court saw her as a threat. It was a misunderstanding I will do everything in my power to correct.”
“Unless you can raise the dead there is not much you can do.” Namor said. “Although, you could give me the name of the Wakandan who killed her.”
“It does not matter. It was my fault.”
“There needs to be justice and I will not let the queen who is pregnant with my son face execution.” Namor said. “There needs to be someone in your place.”
“You said the punishment is death. The Wakandan who killed Zuma did so to protect me. How could I lead them to execution?”
“Then pick a Talokanil.”
“What?”
“There is one to be exiled on the grounds of murder. She will surely die without the protection of Talokan. She may bear the punishment in your place. Through you, she will become a sacrifice.”
“A sacrifice? To whom?”
“To me.” Namor said. “I am K'uk'ulkan. The feathered serpent God.”
“You take…sacrifices?”
“I have not in three hundred years. I do not want to now, but I must seek justice for Zuma.”
“And Zuma’s family would be okay with this?”
“They will not question my ruling. They are aware of the traditions. A life for a life.”
“How would it happen?”
“A removal of the heart.”
“…Bast.” Shuri said. “This…is a lot.”
“I do not want my people to feel as if I do not care for them. That I have been blinded by my love for you. I am still their protector.” Namor said. “Because you are the…guilty party, you must come to Talokan and choose the woman at the altar. Her heart will be offered to me.”
“I don’t think I can do that.”
“You do not have a choice—unless you are to bring me the Wakandan that killed Zuma.” Namor said. “Think on it.”
“…I will.” Shuri said because she didn’t know what else to say to that.
“I must return to Talokan. I will come back to Wakanda in a day’s time. Make certain your council is ready to discuss our marriage.” Namor said. “And what to do about the Americans in my ocean. I told you it was both Talokan and Wakanda’s dilemma. Our marriage reinforced that.”
Shuri’s stomach dropped. Oh, yeah. The waging war on the entire world thing. So, she’s pregnant, has to pick some woman to murder sacrifice, face the Tribal Council, plan a marriage ceremony, tell all Wakanda and perhaps the entire world she is pregnant, and no, they cannot know who the father is, date a God who doesn’t know what the internet is, that also is a hothead, and solve for world peace. Bast. Well, at least Namor did not bring up Riri. Shuri guessed since the marriage is back on the table, so was their deal. That’s one bit of good news.
Namor cupped the side of her face, waking her from her thoughts. She looked up at him as he brushed his soft thumb across her lips. He moved his hand down until it pressed against her stomach.
“I will announce the news of the coming prince.” Namor said. “It is cause for celebration amongst my people. The prophesied child of the elements, of air, water, fire, and earth will become a god. The entire world will be his kingdom.”
“That is a lot to put on a person who doesn’t even have eyes yet.” Shuri couldn’t stop herself from saying. Luckily, Namor found it funny as he chuckled.
“I have waited centuries for this day. The day I would no longer be alone.”
“Alone? Your people love you.”
“All Talokanil are my children.”
“Not biologically, right?”
“No, but I am their father. It comes with aging slower than all of my people. I have raised them and there are things you cannot tell your children, like how close you are to falling apart, to losing everything. I must be strong, always.”
“Oh…”
“But when I saw you with your mother by the river, the loss you carry from the late king, it reminded me of myself when I lost my mother. The anger, the feeling as if the gods have abandoned you, I have felt the same.” Namor said. “You shoulder the death of your brother while understanding what it means to be a leader, to persevere…and you do not cower from me, you can even use some deference. No one has ever treated me like that. There is no other that would understand me as you do.”
When Namor put it that way, Shuri understood. Making friends with girls her age had been hard because they couldn’t separate Shuri from the princess. The only person that could was T’Challa—the only person who dared to give her shit and make fun of her clothes. And now he’s gone. The only person that truly knew her. Even her mother didn’t know her like her brother did. Shuri can’t imagine years of that isolation, let alone centuries.
“You feel as if no one knows who you really are.” Shuri said. Namor nodded.
Shuri didn’t know if it was because of the absolute weight of the day or not sleeping for 24 hours or both, but she just walked to Namor, tucked her head under his chin and wrapped her arms around his chest. He smelled heavily of musk and salt, but his arms were warm and inviting as he wrapped them around her.
He and T’Challa were the same height, but Namor was more muscular. For a second, she could pretend it’s her brother’s arms she’s in, which is an odd thought to have while your husband is holding you. Grief is weird.
Namor began to draw back but Shuri kept her arms around him. She didn’t want to be alone in her dark room again.
“Can you stay? At least for the night.” Shuri mumbled into his chest.
“My queen, I should be with my people.”
“Please?”
“Those eyes. They will write poems about them someday.” Namor said softly, his chest rose and fell with a sigh. It’s like he cannot deny her anything. “As you wish.”
Shuri backed away from him and took his hand as she led him to the bed. She got in between the blankets. Namor lifted them and slid in with her, lying behind her and draping his arm across her midsection to pull her closer to himself. He was so solid and real behind her. She’d only shared a bed with her mother and T’Challa when she was young. She’d never been in bed with a man in a romantic context.
Namor put his hand on her stomach and placed his lips on the juncture where Shuri’s neck met her shoulder. His slightly pointed teeth bit down, but not hard enough to leave a mark. Shuri took a shuddery breath, and Namor withdrew. His breathing soon slowed; he had fallen asleep.
Shuri closed her eyes and dreamed of a nothing day on the seashore with T’Challa.
The sunlight spilled through the glass walls, blinding her after she’d forgotten to close the curtains. She laid on her stomach and reached out the side of the bed Namor was on. The spot was cold. He’s gone. Shuri sat up and stretched until something popped. Last night was the best sleep she’d gotten since her brother…whatever.
Namor had probably returned to Talokan. Shuri got up, feeling sticky with sweat. She needed a shower and to check on her mother. The time was 12pm. It’s weird the queen hadn’t woken her up earlier.
She got out of bed and walked past her mirror before slowly walking back. She turned to the side to watch her flat belly. If all goes well, in a few months she won’t be able to fit into any of her clothes.
The water from the shower rattled as it hit the bottom of the tub. The noise filtered into the back of her mind as her muscles relaxed under the heat. She’ll be leaving the throne empty—their royal bloodline dying with her mother. There will be a ceremony to pick a new king. Bast. What would T’Challa think of this? Her father? To see Shuri was the one to end their claim to the throne by marrying a king the world had never heard of. The empty noise gave her too much space to think.
Shuri stepped out of the shower. Dried off. Brushed her hair, got dressed in a simple white dress. She made her way to the throne room to see her mother talking with one of their servants. Shuri greeted the servant as she passed, the woman bowed her head before leaving Shuri and her mother.
“Shuri.” Queen Ramonda acknowledged quietly.
“Hey, mother.”
“I hope the extra bit of sleep I let you have cleared your mind.”
“Meaning?”
“You aren’t keeping that child or staying married to that savage.”
“I still doing both.”
Queen Ramonda sighed. “You are safe with me; do you know that? I can protect you. Wakanda can protect you. He will never get to you again.”
“I know. I want this.”
“Are you certain?”
“I am certain.”
“Fine, child. Fine.” Queen Ramonda said. “If this is occurring, you will need vitamins and healthy foods. No more secret Dorito dinners.”
“I don’t eat—“
“Shuri, I’ve seen the bags underneath your bed.”
Shuri chuckled. “Yes, mother.”
“I have informed the Council. They have questions for that savage and what he expects from Wakanda.”
“His name is Namor.” Shuri said. “And he expects…” Wakanda to help him destroy the world.
“Yes?”
“Nothing, I must speak with him before the Council sticks their teeth into him.” Shuri said. “He is from another world. He knows nothing of our customs. I would like to prepare him.”
“You have two days. That’s when Zawavari comes back from Cape Town. You know we need all the elders to weigh in before I make my ruling.” Queen Ramonda said. “She has been briefed on your marriage and that savage’s attack on our nation.”
“How many Wakandans were killed in Namor’s attack?”
“There were many injured, but none dead.”
“Oh, that’s good.” Shuri felt a weight lift off her. So, she didn’t just spend the night with a murderer.
“It’s the only reason I haven’t skinned him alive yet.”
“You’re going to have to get along with him, mother.” Shuri said.
“I agreed to your marriage. I never said anything about liking him.”
Shuri laughed lowly. “So, when does the entire romance film puking when it’s the most relative to plot trope happen?”
“Excuse me?”
“Morning sickness?”
“In a month or two.” The queen said. “…We’ll have to see how far along you are.”
“Conception happened…the night I was taken to Talokan, so about a day ago.” Shuri said. Her mother should know that. She’d only met him with her mother that dark night in the jungle before being taken to Talokan with Riri.
“You said you married him to keep the scientist safe. I am proud of you for being so selfless, if shortsighted and foolish.” Queen Ramonda closed her eyes, took a deep breath before watching Shuri again. “Was it consensual? The intercourse?”
Somewhat. “Yes. He did not…make me.”
“Then why did you sleep with him?” The queen asked frankly. Shuri could tell her mother anything but like most daughters, sex was off the table. Furthermore, if she told the truth, that sleeping with Namor was a part of the marriage compact she made with him to keep Riri alive, it would sound…bad. Like rape. Her mother wouldn’t be aware of the nuances, like the way the neon blue water shined on his bare arms, how soft spoken he was, the way he dared to take her despite her status as princess. He wanted to protect his people, like T’Challa did. Her brother and husband had different methods but the same heart.
“Because…I wanted to. He was considerate and gentle, despite what he has displayed on Wakandan soil.” Shuri said. “He was also, very, very handsome.”
“Ugh.” Queen Ramonda scoffed. “I raised you better than that.”
“Well…I didn’t sleep with him before marriage.” Shuri said. “There’s that, at least.”
Queen Ramonda rubbed her temples before watching Shuri again. Her mother swept any more invasive questions under the carpet of her consciousness. “You will need a doctor’s appointment.”
“Mother, I can monitor my own—“
“I’m not taking no for an answer.”
“Well, a doctor’s visit is eight weeks after the first positive pregnancy test.” Shuri said. “It has not been that long.”
“I see. We’ll schedule for you to meet with the midwife then.” Queen Ramonda said. “Now, I’ve already had breakfast prepared. It is in the kitchen. Go on.”
Shuri ate salad, some sort of baked fish, a hardboiled egg, and drink orange juice. The food didn’t have enough salt, butter, and cheese as she was used to. Is this what the next nine months will look like? Blah.
Shuri found Riri wandering around her lab like it was a museum. The student was brilliant, and she would’ve made the best (friend) lab assistant ever, but it was time to send her home…before Namor changes his mind. The student promised she would go nowhere near vibranium again. Riri asked what happened between Namor and Shuri to make the God concede to let them go. Shuri forwent telling her about the marriage and pregnancy. She settled for a ‘worked it out.’
They shared a hug and Shuri sent Riri on a transport back to Cambridge. Now, it’s up to Namor to hold up his end of the bargain. Shuri released a breath as she looked at the screens in her lab showing various places in Wakanda…she needed to stop thinking about everything, her mother, Namor, world peace, sacrifices. She needed to feel the sun on her skin, smell the fruits of the markets, hear the dull roar of conversation at the mall. She’d been holed up in her lab for far too long.
If things were normal, Shuri would either take a walk around the city, tinker around in her lab, hop on her PS5, find T’Challa, or scroll through her smartphone. She figured she needed to see the sunlight before Namor introduced the night. Bast, how will this work? Would she even get reception in the series of caves she’ll be living in? Wi-Fi? Maybe she could invent something so she could at least talk to her mother.
The shell Namor had given her shined gold in the sunlight, mauve in the evenings, white when it played with the lights in her lab. It was never the same color. She blew into it without thinking and pocketed it.
Shuri left the palace in one of their understated cars—a maroon pickup truck Nakia used for undercover work. She cloaked herself in a black hoodie, sunglasses, and jeans. The truck threaded itself through the busy tapestry of life in Wakanda. It got tighter the further into the city she went, more people, more cars, more buildings, more tech until she felt as if a bear trap was closing in on her. Her chest tightened, as her breath stuck. She was slick with sweat and had to pull over—another panic attack. They’ve become common since her brother died. The all-consuming feeling of being completely, totally, alone.
T’Challa knew her moods without even talking to her, he quoted her favorite songs, he picked her up from the police station after Shuri had been caught driving a car at 13. He didn’t even tell their parents. When he died, a part of her did as well. The person she was is gone forever, just like him. She drove past the used electronics store she was going to and kept driving until she reached empty land and water—no people. She stopped the truck.
The dusk over the river was the color of a ripe gala apple—all gold and red painting the sky in watercolors. The water of the river was painted black by evening, the waves brushed against the shore in a hiss. The wind moved through the trees, rattling the leaves. Shuri staggered out of the truck and walked to the beach. She took the shell out of her pocket. She was tired of being alone too.
She removed her sneakers and placed them on the beach before walking into the warm water, wetting up her jeans to her ankles. Her hand shook as she placed the shell in the water.
Now what? How long should she wait? Namor could be anywhere in the ocean right now. Talokan was off the coast of Yucatán, Mexico. Miles and miles away from Wakanda. Bast, he said he was coming back tomorrow. Why is she so desperate?
The day I will no longer be alone.
Namor had lost the only person who understood him as well.
Dusk faded into night as Shuri sat on the slick beach with her knees pressed to her stomach. The only light was the headlights of the truck cutting through the dark. The wind picked up and Shuri put her head in her hands.
Fingers caught in her curls, making her flinch. The moon was higher in the sky then when she last saw it before she put her head in her hands. Had she fallen asleep?
Namor’s face was sketched in shadow as he knelt to her level, his fingers traveling from her hair to cup her jaw, rubbing his thumb under her eye, across her lips, until it landed on the tip of his nose. It was like he was trying to remember her face like he’d never see her again. Shuri guessed in sixty years, that’ll be true because he seems to live forever while human life is fleeting.
“Namor, I don’t want to be alone either.” Shuri’s voice cracked—be it from the aching hole in her stomach or waking from sleep, she didn’t know. Namor wasn’t T’Challa, but he was the next best thing.
“You won’t be, ever again.” Namor said. He somehow made that sound like a promise and a threat. Shuri didn’t know which one to take it as. She stood, never taking her gaze off his. She pressed her lips against his and rested her hands on his stomach. He was slick with ocean water as he closed the gap between them, wrapping his arms around her waist and pressing her close to his body.
Shuri wedged her arm between them to tug at the top of that WWE Championship belt he wore, somehow getting it to unbuckle as it slipped to the ground.
“What are you doing?” Namor asked.
“I just…I need to not feel alone.” Shuri said. It barely made sense in her own head. What did it sound like to Namor? “I need you.”
Namor took a shuddery breath at her words. She had never affected someone so much as she appeared to affect the God. He lived and breathed for her. It felt…good.
She slipped out of his arms. She took his hand and guided him to the truck. She got in and slid until she touched the backseat window. He got the idea and followed her in. Before he could say anything, she climbed over him, straddling him. She pulled off her hoodie before pressing their lips together. Namor rested his hands on her hips.
Shuri pulled back an inch, watching him in the shimmery dark. “Did you tell your people about our child?”
“Yes. There will be a four-day festival celebrating his coming birth.”
“You always refer to our child by he/him pronouns.”
“The prophesies state I will have a son with the daughter of earth and fire.”
Right. Prophesies. Shuri believed in science, in facts, things that can be tested and proven. While Namor was incredibly strong and seemingly immortal, he could be explained, the plant his mother consumed altered his DNA structure. She had a chance to examine the plant under a microscope via the bracelet Namor had given her.
Shuri wasn’t religious, her mentioning Bast was more out of habit than anything. How married was Namor to these prophesies and polytheistic beliefs? Would he be disappointed if she bore a daughter? What if Shuri stopped aligning with his idea of a bride of earth and fire? Would he punish her? Would he kill her? Or would he gaslight himself into thinking everything she did was perfect?
“My queen?” Namor asked, yanking her out of her brain.
“Sorry, I was…thinking.”
“About?”
“That we should get to know each other.” Shuri said. “We are married.”
“Yes.”
“What is your favorite color?” Shuri asked.
“Green. The color of jade and my mother’s bracelet.” Namor said. “And yourself?”
“Purple.” Shuri said. “Let the making out continue.”
Namor smiled and pressed his lips hers. He tugged at her undershirt, and she pulled back, letting him slip it off over her shoulders and bearing her chest. His hot hand cupped her breast. She sighed.
“Do you know what the internet is?” Shuri asked.
“I have…heard of this internet but I am not certain what it does. It has the surface world looking at screens with various emotions carved on to their faces.” Namor said. “What is the internet?”
“We don’t have to time to get into that now, but we will. I am not spending eternity with a man who cannot order me a pizza.” Shuri said before climbing off him. She slid down her jeans and kicked them off her feet. Namor leaned over and brushed his lips across her neck. She shivered at the sensation.
“Do you know any surface world celebrities?” Shuri asked.
“Is this a game? Every time I want to touch you, I must answer a question?” Namor asked.
“Maybe.”
“What is a celebrities?”
“Celebrity.” Shuri said. “It means someone who is famous. A well-known person.”
“Such as…Pablo Neruda?”
“I’m afraid I’m not familiar.”
“I love you like this because I don’t know any other way to love, except in this form in which I am not nor are you, so close that your hand upon my chest is mine, so close that your eyes close with my dreams.”
“That is beautiful.” Shuri said. “Was he a singer?”
“No, a twentieth century poet. He is one of the few surface world ‘celebrities’ Talokan appreciates. You will read his works, at least while you’re pregnant with my son.”
Great. Homework. She’ll google him later. “I like Zendaya. She is an actress and singer. You will watch Euphoria with me on television.”
“Television?”
“Television is—“
“I know what it is. I am joking with you.” Namor said. Shuri laughed before taking a deep breath and pulling her underwear down to her ankles. She lost her virginity like a day ago, so she’s not used to bearing it all at the drop of a hat to get freaky.
Namor watched her like she was the last piece of chocolate cake in the entire world. Shuri reached over and tugged at his shorts. Namor got the idea and lifted his hips to slide them down his legs. Shuri tried not to stare at the wings on his ankle. As interesting as it was genetically, she hoped their child didn’t have them. Imagine trying to catch a toddler that can fly.
Namor leaned over and brushed their lips together. It made Shuri’s stomach flutter. She opened her mouth and their tongues touched, he tasted like fruit and Shuri remembered she didn’t brush her teeth today. Groan. If he noticed he didn’t say so as he wrapped his arm around her waist. He pulled her slightly until Shuri got the idea and turned to kneel on the backseat. So, this was happening—it had always been her favorite position in theory. She’d seen it mimicked in movies and television. It always looked better when it was hard but then again, it was theory to her. She might be the type who likes it gentle, who knows? Time to test the hypothesis.
Namor knelt behind her. She felt his cock poke at her entrance, and she groaned at the stab of anticipation. Namor slid it against her, teasing her before the tip of his cock entered her. Her toes curled as he gripped the front of her neck. Him being inside her burned a little—she’s a scientist so she knows it’ll take a few more times before she’s completely comfortable having intercourse but her eyes fluttered closed and her mouth fell open.
“You are more beautiful than Xōchiquetzal herself.” Namor said as he pushed in deeper, but not all the way. Shuri bit her bottom lip at being stretched. “You will be worshiped for your cunning and beauty. They will sing songs about your fecundity.”
“Xochi-who?” Shuri asked breathlessly.
“Our Goddess of desire.”
“Are you certain you will not get struck down for saying that?” Shuri couldn’t stop herself from asking. Namor’s laugh was breathy.
“I will risk it, my queen.” Namor said. “Anything for you.”
Shuri’s face heated. She liked the sound of that, but he wasn’t moving fast enough for her. Too much talking. She took a breath and slammed herself back against him, until he was fully sheathed in her. He groaned and she cried out, as a lightning bolt of pain shot through her. Bad idea. That hurt. She clawed the tattered seat at the burning raw feeling.
Namor tangled his fingers in her curls before slamming into her. Shuri cried out in pain before aiming her hand back to push against him. He must’ve taken that as encouragement as he started to pound her. Shuri whimpered and gasped as she rode his thrusts. He was eerily quiet except for his breathing filling up the silence. He pulled her hair, making her arch her neck up. With each push of his hips, the pain melted away until she was quivering, her toes curling as she held on to the seat. The truck lightly rocked as he fucked her. She pushed back to meet his thrusts. Every time he slid inside her, she saw fireworks behind her eyelids.
Namor cupped the front of her throat and guided her back until she sat in his lap. At this angle he slid deeper into her. Shuri clenched her eyes shut as she bounced up and down on top of him. He released a shuddery breath and grazed his pointed teeth in the dip where her neck met her shoulder, like he did last night. It sent tingles down her spine. How she wanted to tell him to bite down, to mark her as his but what would her mother think?
Her skin was slick as the windows of the truck became misty. Namor had moved his hand to hold her hips and fuck up into her. She cried out as she came, vision going white as she dug her fingernails into the skin of his arms. They didn’t leave a mark.
Namor slowed his thrusts, just rocking up into her. “Did you finish?”
Shuri could only get up the energy to nod. He wrapped his arm around her to pull her until her back was against his chest. He ground into her, the overstimulation becoming painful. They needed some lubricant or something, as she rode his rocking. She had nothing to compare his…size to, but he filled her up, she had no complaints. He thrusted into her faster, obviously to get completion.
“I love you.” Namor said breathlessly. He said it so easily, so freely. They’ve known each other for two days, they haven’t dated, they had sex one and a half times, and hit the fast track to marriage and children—Death, husband, god, stranger. He’d told her he’d loved her about 600 times so far. She didn’t even know if he had a last name. How could he love her? He must’ve been courting the daughter of earth and fire in his head for centuries, though they did share some similarities, but could grief be the basis for a relationship?
Should Shuri say she loves him back? It would make him easier to manipulate happy.
“Um…Ditto, my king.”
“I don’t understand…”
“It means I feel the same.” Shuri sighed as she bounced on top of him. He thrusted once, twice more until he held her down, coming inside her. He squeezed her stomach with his hand—there’s going to be bruises there.
She laid back against him as they caught their breath. She could get used to this sex stuff. He was good at it, though she had to ask who he was having sex with before since he said he wasn’t a virgin and he claimed he has fatherly feelings for all Talokanil. Did she really want to know? Yes. Yes, she did.
She got off his lap and sat down next to him. She felt open and wet. It hurt to sit correctly in the seat, though she thoroughly enjoyed it. Maybe she does like it rough. Namor cupped the back of her neck, stroking her jugular with his thumb. His come leaked out of her. She will definitely have to clean this truck before it is used again, and if she wasn’t pregnant before…
The truck was thick with old breath. It was stuffy and moist, so she opened the door to let the night wind in. She came face to face with Nakia, while as naked as she came.
Shuri slammed the truck door back closed and Nakia gasped, turning away quickly.
“What are you doing out here?!” Shuri yelled, yanking on her shirt.
“Princess! You’ve been gone from the palace hours, and it is 1am. Your mother was worried. I didn’t see anything!” Nakia added the last part unnecessarily, so that must’ve meant she’d seen everything.
Jeez, Namor was here as well. She never wanted them to meet. She didn’t want him to find out the spy was the one who protected Shuri from Zuma.
“Just give us a second!” Shuri pulled on her pants, sans underwear. They must’ve been under the seat.
“Us?” Nakia asked.
“Bast.” Shuri said lowly. “I’m with, um, so it’s kind of a funny story…well, not so funny, as it is interesting.”
Namor pulled on those tiny shorts, and he was done getting presentable. There must be something to wearing that little of clothes. He glanced at Shuri before speaking.
“Who is that?” Namor asked.
“Nakia. She’s a member of my court.”
“And I am armed.” Nakia said. Shuri rolled her eyes. Namor frowned.
“It’s okay, Nakia. My mother probably told you all about it. I’m married now.”
“She didn’t make it seem that simple, princess.” Nakia said. “This is…”
“An act of fate hundreds of years in the making.” Namor finished. Shuri could imagine the frown on Nakia’s face. Shuri pulled on her hoodie and opened the door. She stood, almost stumbling out of the truck because of the ache between her legs. Namor got out of the truck on the other side but didn’t approach them. He was turning out to be not much of a people person.
“Hey.” Was the only thing Shuri thought to say to Nakia once she faced the woman.
“Are you under some kind of spell?” Nakia asked. “I heard stories about the Talokanil’s siren songs.”
“If I was under a spell, I could not tell you that I was.” Shuri said. Nakia’s eyes widened. Shuri shouldn’t have made that joke. “I’m fine. I promise.”
Namor still stood on the other side of the car, cloaked in darkness. Would it be suspicious if Shuri let Namor hang back? Would he know Nakia killed Zuma? Ugh, just act natural.
“Namor. Come here.” Shuri called. He came around the truck and pulled Shuri to his chest, wrapping his arms around her. Nakia narrowed her eyes. She must’ve been really disturbed, because as a spy, hiding her emotions came second nature to her. “This is Namor from…the ocean. He’s my husband.”
“I am ruler of Talokan. I have come to Wakanda to gather my queen.” Namor said. “There is to be a marriage ceremony.”
“I know.” Nakia said. “You attacked Wakanda.”
“I did.”
“But no one died.” Shuri added.
“And you’re expecting?” Nakia asked.
“I am, yes….”
“The child won’t be in line for the Wakandan throne because of your marriage to a foreign king.” Nakia said. She didn’t have to tell Shuri that, as Shuri already knew, so the spy must’ve been leading up to something. “What about the Wakandan throne? Your brother’s throne?”
Shuri’s heart seized. It was like a gut punch. She didn’t want to leave the throne empty, let another dynasty replace her family, but the truth of it was, she could never be her mother, never be T’Challa. She lacked the patience, the warmth, the responsibility. Often times, she felt as if she were a child playing dress up. Namor wasn’t the only reason she gave up. T’Challa was. She couldn’t hope to replicate her brother. How good he was.
“She is queen of Talokan. She no longer needs Wakanda.”
“The princess can speak for herself.” Nakia said.
“I leave the throne in more capable hands.” Shuri said quietly. “I leave the throne in the people’s hands. I leave the throne in your hands.”
“…Did your mother tell you?”
“Tell me what?”
“It doesn’t matter.” Nakia said curtly. “I can see that you’re safe, queen. I will take my leave now.”
Shuri didn’t want to leave it like this, with Nakia disappointed in her, though it was better that the spy parted. Namor and Nakia didn’t need to spend time with each other.
“…Bye.” Shuri said. Nakia walked off into the night. She no doubt had her motorcycle stashed away behind a screen of bushes. Shuri blew out a breath.
“Do you have to alienate everyone who speaks to you?” Shuri asked. She’s not sure if she was talking to Namor or herself.
“You are queen of Talokan. You no longer belong to Wakanda or your mother. You belong to me.”
“I will always be Wakandan.” Shuri said. “Becoming married doesn’t change who I am. No matter who it is to.”
“My queen—“
“My name is Shuri.”
“Shuri.” Namor said as if he was getting used to the feeling of her name in his mouth. “We need to speak about the future of Talokan and Wakanda. The marriage treaty. I have my terms ready.”
“We will discuss this before convening the Council, though I would prefer to do it after I clean up a little. I need to bathe.” Shuri said. Her inner thighs felt stuck together by...sex juice. She can’t imagine even looking at her mother without a shower or a baptism. Namor knelt and hooked his fingers into the top of her jeans. She let him pull them down and lifted her feet to help him slip them off. He stood and lifted her shirt. She held up her arms and the shirt slid to the ground. She was naked again in a few minutes.
He lifted her easily and cradled her to himself, rocking her slowly—she felt his heartbeat. He walked to the water and waded in until it reached his shoulders. Shuri held him tight with her arms around his neck. The water was warm, like sinking into a womb. He dipped down until they were swallowed by inky water and pressed their lips together.
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
Chapters: 1/1
Fandom: Baldur's Gate (Video Games)
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Relationships: Lorroakan/Rolan (Baldur's Gate)
Characters: Rolan (Baldur's Gate), Lorroakan (Baldur's Gate)
Additional Tags: Dubious Consent, But they both get something out of it, i tagged it just in case, Lorroakan needs a trigger tag for being Lorroakan, This game has a surplus of psychopaths and narcissists and I am here for it, minimal knowledge of Greek myths, God Complex, Rough Sex, Grooming, but like claiming the Nightsong Lorroakan is unsuccessful at grooming, Rare Pairings, Rare pairings are a burden on my life, Implied/Referenced Abuse, Power Imbalance
Summary:
“You are as adorable as you are foolish.” Lorroakan said. “Do you not see yourself in the tale of Ganymede and Zeus?”
“I don’t think I do.” Rolan said.
“Zeus was the king of Gods. He had limitless power and authority. He was also a sort of teacher to the beautiful, naïve youth. Ganymede learned much from his Master on a wide variety of subjects…including magic, sex, and politics. It made little sense to the boy at the time, but as he collected lifetimes worth of knowledges and powers, he could scarcely remember what he resisted Zeus for. You can learn much from Ganymede.”
“If I’m Ganymede, then who is Zeus?” Rolan asked.
“Why, me, of course.” Lorroakan said.
*
During a “lesson” in theology, Lorroakan makes Rolan an offer he can’t refuse.
Hello! Just writing in to say that every once in a while, I go back to read the wonderfully written Dorian and Cole fic on AO3. I’ve just restarted it again so maybe I should have waited to the end to write you, I may write again. I just read it when I want to fall in love with writing again. Not just writing, but the feeling of falling in love and casual intimacy and all the small crest falls, victories, and insecurities of pursuing someone new. The way you write Cole, as he is a fun and unique perspective, is so masterful. I really love your writing style!
Why did this get lost in my ask box! This is so nice. My dragon age hyper fixation is coming back! I hope Cole and Dorian make an appearance!!!
Just wanted to let you know that your Nashuri fic "Averno" inspired me to buy the actual poetry book Averno from Louise Gluck, and wow. WOW. I get it now! (Plus I keep running into the poetry snippets you put in the fic and I'm like whooooaaaa)
Thanks for introducing me to new poetry, and hope you're doing well!
That poem collection had me in a headlock since I was like a teenager and when I watching Wakanda Forever, it clicked. Thank you so much for this ask! It made my day. I really should finish that fic :(
