42d. History pt 4.

A god was never nervous, so it had been said. They were all-knowing. When you knew the outcome of a situation, good or bad, there was no room for nervousness. Namor knew this more than anyone. Not that he was a psychic but humans were creatures of habit, and they made the same decisions and mistakes of their forefathers. They even had delusions of folly or reconciliation, which is why he couldn't understand why he had given in to Toussaint's plan.

K'uk'ulkan the Feathered God Serpent wasn't in any way nervous. Really. But the part of him that was undeniably man had sweaty hands. What was he expecting?

It wasn't as if he hadn't been in the Wakandan council room before, but it was usually under different circumstances. Strictly business in recent years. In the ones before that, it had been dedicated time to see his decadent Itzia. She would be giggling and trying to distract him during M'Baku's speeches with a new invention, to joke about her elders, or just to find out about his day. Oh, to cover the canvas of her skin with kisses was never enough back then.

For time to weigh on a seemingly immortal being felt paradoxical. But now the council room felt pre-charged with energy, flickers of electricity for what was to come. Either a new beginning or a disaster. Shuri would be the catalyst of it as she often was.

With his hearing, Namor would know the pitter-patter sound of her shoes. He could already see her eyes in his mind, dimmed but the smallest spark of light was still there.

His situation with Shuri was complicated. He couldn't afford to be of two minds with her. Acidity tainted some of their memories. He had never stopped loving her, and he didn't think he ever would.

But as a father, his heart would never stop hurting for his children either. Wakanda despite its shortsightedness was still a worthy ally. However, if it came to it, and only if it were deserved, he would crush the country to dust.

The ruminations of his mind didn't cease as he finger-combed his hair again and rubbed in the oil he spread across his chest earlier. He had on thick, gold-plated jewels, three blue feathers behind his ears, and a lovely aquamarine cape handsewn by Namora.

His cousin was surly but had as much finesse with weapons as sewing tools. She had never understood Wakanda's betrayal, and why he had spared so much of it. Flooding was the least he could have done to them. But how could he explain a few months' attachment to a foreign princess to her? So, he didn't. Even now, she prodded and suspected he gave too much leeway to a country that had slaughtered their own after such hospitality.

Talokan would always be his first priority to his final breath, but Shuri was a seed that had taken root in his heart. Not easily dug up. Where the wires stopped crossing was with him putting the interest of his people first.

He trusted Shuri, but not the council fully. Only the princess had integrity to him. Lord M'Baku was amusing and amiable outside of politics. But he wouldn't doubt the man had procedures in place should he no longer want to work with him. It would be futile, of course. He could see the hunger in the Dora Milaje' eyes too, wanting to run him through with a spear or a different weapon of choice and avenge their queen. He wasn't discouraged by this knowledge and welcomed it. At least, he knew where they stood, but for the last few years, it had been peaceful Wakandan-Talokan relations.

It could have been peace between the two from the very beginning. If they had just listened to him. The colonizers and the present descendants of evil and greed wanted infighting, strife, and confusion with the owners of vibranium. How much would they salivate to know of another country with the same material?

With protecting their people and vibranium, Shuri and he saw perfectly eye to eye. They had always worked well together. She was inquisitive and creative, and he knew how to plan and protect. He had experience ruling, but she had a fresh perspective.

When he first saw her by the river, she hesitantly pointed a weapon at him, he was intrigued. Something had stirred in his soul he had never felt before. A knowledge they were meant to meet solidified itself quickly. Later the desire to be more together became apparent. He had been smitten.

Yes, she was beautiful, but above all she understood.

The life of royalty and a deity was lonely. Many evenings he had spent on the beach with her or on her balcony, talking of his ideals or the events of the day. Sometimes, she asked him silly questions like his favorite salad dressing or to sing her a song. The lightness of the conversations lifted his heart and made her snort and laugh. They were equals and could be vulnerable with each other in ways they couldn't with their people.

Namor shook his head. He had paced around the room enough and went to sit.

This meeting was foolish at best from a young prince's whimsy. Truly, Toussaint had a deeper need for familial ties and to believe love was real. The child couldn't stop projecting even at his own expense. To become a great king, he would need to grow up soon.

Shuri shuffled in with Udaku earpods in both ears. Her tablet was tucked under her arm. She was wearing stretchy black pants, low heels, and a short tunic shirt. The only jewelry she had were gold earrings and the panther necklace. She never made the mistake of wearing his bracelet in front of him anymore. For all he knew, she had thrown it away. Shuri was only keeping it for historical preservation and the off chance he'd ask for it back. There was value in the keepsakes from a deceased mother.

"Griot, end call with Izogie, remind me to visit Okoye this week and to finish reviewing Marigold's prototype designs. Also, order delivery for dinner to my lab. I'm feening for some goat meat, rice, and cabbage tonight."

Finally, stopping her nonstop chatter, Shuri stiffened, but only for a moment, any more would've signaled her discomfort. Namor was already seated in a chair.

She tried to enter council meetings a few minutes late, so she could avoid the seat directly next to Namor. Unassigned seating arrangements could be a silent, precarious struggle between the power move of sitting next to him, seemingly unbothered, and rejecting him by sitting elsewhere. Most of the time she sat elsewhere, but the few she sat next to him, she noticed he seemed less harsh and more pleasant.

"Namor," she began, giving a nod. Sometimes, she was oddly formal with him, despite how much of each other they had shared, which was better than the alternative of her iciness and disinterest. "We're the punctual ones today, aren't we? Nice cape."

"Yes, princess. Thank you. I thought you might like it." Namor looked over toward the portrait hanging on one of the walls of a smiling T'Challa. He purposefully avoided her gaze. "You may call me K'uk'ulkan, you know."

Shuri gave an incredulous look. Her eyes narrowed, and her lips twisted.

"Uh, anyways," Shuri dismissed him. "We should wait for the others. Today we'll talk about what was tabled last time. We've found a few Wakandans selling vibranium exports to online marketplaces. We must decide if they're to stand trial or not."

He met her eyes. "Expel or punish them."

"Namor."

"It's better to deal cruelty to your own than the outside world. They should know the value of vibranium and its consequence. To do this is an act of love because you care for their wellbeings."

They weren't going to agree, and he wasn't going to relent.

The little panther's dream for instant reconciliation wouldn't happen as he expected, Namor thought.

Touching a hand to her temple, Shuri steered the conversation elsewhere.

"Hopefully, we'll come to a solution today, but we shouldn't get ahead of ourselves. I wonder where they are. It's not like the elders to be so late."

"I remember when they were late before."

The last time the council had been late a younger version of herself had sat in Namor's lap, hugging her arms around his neck. He had rocked and cradled her in a warm cocoon, and she had napped through the whole meeting. Namor had adored the cute sight of her sleeping in his arms and let her stay that way during the entire meeting.

In the aftermath, she had been so embarrassed but felt loved. Her mother had pursed her lips and threatened to revoke her privilege to sit in on the council. Younger Shuri had never cared for the boring, long-drawn-out council in the first place, but the thought of being banned had made her want to attend out of pettiness. And to give her a mandated reason to see her fish man. Well, that was how it had been back then.

Shuri frowned. What was he getting at? It wasn't like him to go down memory lane. And to reference when they were dating of all things.

Namor leaned more into his chair and treated it like his throne. To her surprise, he almost stuttered and caught himself on a word. "I r-remember another time when your Lord M'Baku gifted us presents."

She tried not to laugh, but the memory overpowered her. She leaned her back against a table, giving him a full view of her amusement.

"Oh yes! His reward for us allowing his bribery to persuade the catering option."

He shared her smile. "The vegetarian food was quite good, but not as much as the fur."

"Those ugly, damp things. And Bast, the shedding! We could cover no place with our feet as much as the hair from those coated shrugs did." Shuri tried to catch her breath through the laughter. "Those weren't the same quality from Jabariland. That was some fake, cheap imitation from some fast fashion seller."

"I could appreciate his gesture because I know the honor it is to wear a person's gift. The joy it brings the giver is another gift in itself."

Shuri's smile dropped. She touched her wrist, feeling for the bracelet before remembering she left it behind. He had given her many dresses, jewels, and cultural items throughout their relationship.

He was looking at her in a way she couldn't tolerate anymore. The softness in his voice and gaze didn't fit him. She knew what he was capable of, but she missed this side of him. The one that was earnest, kind, and easy to talk to.

Namor continued. "You didn't like the crown of the jade I gifted you until you saw how beautiful you are in the mirror."

The present tense wasn't lost on Shuri. Flattery would get him nowhere. To be pleased with his compliments felt wrong. Like, an itchy tag in a new dress.

"Thank you. Yes, it's the thought that counts." Shuri coughed, rubbing her hands down her thighs. She sat with one empty seat between them. Elder Marwa would take it once he arrived.

"Shuri—"

"Princess Shuri." She turned her head.

"…"

"You're awfully talkative today."

"I've much to talk about. A young panther and I've been conversing."

He saw her clenching her fists, trying to breathe calmly.

"You've no right to be snooping around him. He's not the king of Wakanda. He's just a boy."

"He's fourteen in your years. I took the throne at ten."

"Yeah, and look where that got you," she spat.

He folded his hands together, smiling with no kindness. "And where is that?"

"Heartless and cruel… I'm sor—I'm not sorry, but I shouldn't have said that." She sighed. "Please don't put ideas in his head. He's young and puts too much responsibility on himself. My brother wanted him to grow up away from the throne for as long as possible. Let's keep it that way."

"What would you've me to do, Princess Shuri?"

"Turn him away. Encourage him to go home, do his homework, or make some friends. If he becomes king, because it's his choice, you two can converse then. Unless of course some freak accident kills you and a better leader takes the throne."

Namor stroked his chin, ignoring the dig. "I believe he's found a father figure in me, and I'd never be ashamed to have him as a son. A bright child he is. Compassionate too. It's innate for him. He also listens."

Shuri winced, staring at her hands. Her fingernails were painted purple and glinted under the light of the room. "I hate that T'Ch—my brother isn't here to watch him grow up. He's had another growth spurt and those dimples. Sometimes, I turn the corner, and I swear it's my brother. But it's just my Tutu growing up."

"Shuri," he murmured. She didn't correct him. "You're doing a great job."

A small smile was on her face, and she lifted her head up. "No, his mother is. I'm just blessed to be along for the ride. He's innocent because he hasn't experienced the pain we have."

"I wish for it to remain that way. Not just for him, but for all our children. Wakanda and Talokan as a whole."

"So be it to Bast," she prayed.

Namor scrutinized her.

"I believe less in her and more in myself. But as I grow older, I realize we need something or someone to believe in. To anchor ourselves from life's turbulence," Shuri explained.

It had been over fifteen minutes now and the lack of other warm bodies in the room was more noticeable. Namor liked to be direct.

"Young Panther, Toussaint had the idea we needed to try again."

"Try what again?" The words were neutral but ready to become dangerous.

"Our connection. To strengthen it. And I'm not opposed either. But Itzia..." Namor leaned over to her, frowning. "Not once did you ever ask their names."

Her hand grasped for her necklace. Touching it calmed her.

"You've some nerve."

"Ixchel and Luna were their names. I don't fault you for that. It was out of your control, your nation's foolhardiness. I've come to know you now, and I know you wouldn't have done that."

"Namor, enough."

He stood up. The whole thick brawn of him. His cape swayed majestically around him. In a different world, she would be asking her Griot to snap a photo of him. Despite it all, he was beautiful. Beautifully infuriating.

"No, let's communicate our feelings. I didn't stop loving you. Have you stopped loving me?"

A gasp left her mouth.

"Namor, stop this. Our council meeting will be soon."

He waved her off. "They're not coming. They never were. The boy sent them on a goose chase. This is our time to be alone together."

Shuri gave a bark of laughter. "Oh, great so you're holding me under duress. Forget this meeting."

He had the nerve to let a flash of hurt appear on his face.

"Tell me your feelings. I cannot know if you don't speak to me."

"Oh, does the king of Talokan demand it of me? You know good and damn well what my feelings are. They died with her."

She stood up and walked past him to the center of the floor. The wide openness of the space didn't make her feel any freer. Everything was constricting her. Her heart, her thoughts, and her terrible horrid ex-boyfriend asking if she still loved him.

"So, you'll run away again, no explanation? You have a pattern. I want to make sure we're on the same page." Arrogance was pumping off him in waves now. Hurt because she hadn't groveled for his love again? It wasn't like she felt nothing for him. Of course, she did, but he wasn't worthy to know that. If he couldn't figure it out, he never would.

Shuri tried to open the door, but it was jammed stuck.

"You're unbelievable! Have you locked us in here?"

"Toussaint's work."

"You're blaming a child for this sick, depraved attempt at a toxic relationship?"

"Nothing about our relationship was toxic, and you know that. What happened with the scientist is another thing. You were happy with me. Don't lie."

"But I'm not now. Why throw this way? We had a good balance going. Cordial and friendly on a great day. Tolerant on a bad one. Put this forced therapy session away."

"We've a shallow version of a relationship. It cannot be renewed without communication and—"

"Don't you dare say forgiveness. You yielded, and I care for your innocent people like my own, but that doesn't mean I forgive you. The next time we disagree, what family member will you cross off then? Will you kill Toussaint?"

His eyes flashed in anger. Like, a streak of lightning. "You think so lowly of me. I'd never harm him."

"Easy to say. You said you'd never harm me."

"I harmed Wakanda. Not you!"

"THAT WAS MY MOTHER! YES, YOU DID! I HAD NO FAMILY LEFT!"

"Tou—"

"I didn't know I had him at first, so I was all alone. The man I thought loved me became my enemy overnight. 'Mourn your losses, bury your dead, you're the queen now.' You took her from me, but you couldn't force me to take the crown, bastard!"

Namor sighed wearily. "Wouldn't it have been crueler to rush into war after your mother's death? I didn't want to demoralize you, but Wakanda had to lose its queen. Her leadership was ill-suited to going against me. If it had been M'Baku or Attuma's wife on the throne, I would have done the same. And maybe they'd survived instead of saving the scientist. So much went wrong with her."

"Riri was barely an adult, and you set your sights to kill her. That's no better than Ixchel and Luna's death, and I tried to save them. You know that!"

Namor was upon her at once. They were back in the center of the room with no escape. Each one trying to corner the other. His chest rose and fell quickly and Shuri glared at him.

"Hush. I'll not tell you again."

Shuri pressed a hand to her chest. "Ha! Try again. I'm the princess of Wakanda. Not an animal you rule around. There's blood on Wakanda's hands, sure. But you? You're covered in it. You leave a trail of death and misery everywhere you go."

Namor's nostrils flared.

"Shuri."

"Princess Shuri." She was still all in his face. Not backing down.

Toussaint sprinted to the palace. Was he too late?

After his mother's revelation, Toussaint had to sit for the longest. His stomach has twisted in guilt and his thought flooded with anxiousness. His mother had pressed a kiss to his forehead and let him stew in the truth. When he found strength in his legs again, he ran to save his Aunty.

Toussaint jiggled the handle to the courtroom. Udaku digital glue was something else! It was heavy-duty and only vaporized once the holder had no more use for it. But Toussaint still couldn't get the door to open. It wasn't until he threw his shoulder into the door that he tumbled into the room.

He was sprawled out on the place floor.

When he looked up, he saw the sheer anger on both his Aunty Shuri and Namor's face.

"Aunty, get away from that murderer!" Toussaint yelled, scrambling to get up. He flung his arms out in front of Shuri to protect her.