42e. History pt 5.
His aunt, despite her anger, gently moved him out of the way. She shook her head at him.
Toussaint had never seen such a hateful look on Namor's face. Maybe now he had truly experienced the Wakandan rite of passage, to see his full wrath.
"You reek of ignorance!" Namor growled. "One of your Wakandan soldiers killed my children. Do you think me so heartless I'd not care to see life drain from the physical pieces of my soul? To know I could do nothing for them! I am a god who was brought down so weak! Toussaint, I watched my daughters die all alone. Their last moments surrounded in darkness, hurt and confused."
"I know! I don't make excuses for that. But you're not blameless either. My mother ... if that soldier hadn't killed Ixchel and Luna, would you have let Aunt Shuri go?" He asked the man he had once looked up to.
"No!"
Aunt Shuri opened her mouth to either scream or bite him.
"Why?" Toussaint roared. Why was he screaming too? Everything was happening too fast, and the room was too hot.
Namor's dark eyes were piercing. "I'd have kept her! I'd begged her to be my wife for she was already my soulmate."
For a moment, all the fight went out of Shuri. Her eyes sparkled in the recognition of the confession. Her shoulders lifted and her countenance visibly softened. If the deep brown of her skin would have allowed it, she may have blushed.
Then, the feeling of resentment bled through, covering Shuri whole. With panther strength, she promptly threw a chair at Namor's head.
Namor dodged but the leg of the chair had still boxed his ear. A flurry of other chairs, nameplates, and heavy furniture followed after.
"You're full of it, almighty K'uk'ulkan." She sneered. "No one could fault you if you killed Nakia. You would've been well in your right not that I would've let you. But no, your all-consuming rage cast many souls to the ancestral realm." She made her eyes wide, saying in a condescending tone. "Not everyone can swim, dear."
He returned her hateful fervor. "Shame. I guess that's true for some."
"You bastard! If you're insinuating—"
Namor held up a hand. "Shuri, no. I don't mock her death. It's done and in the past. She made her decision and gave her life for another. She was foolish to cross me, but noble." His voice was softer. "Queen Ramonda raised you well."
Shuri hissed, feeling her eyes water in frustration. "Shut your mouth and never speak again."
Toussaint swallowed hard. How did things go wrong so fast? He shook his head, laughing to himself, unhinged.
Everyone could see it but him. He truly was a stupid child. Why didn't he just leave well enough alone? He made them dig up these old feelings just to torture themselves for his sake. Love wasn't always enough. His loneliness and need for a family made him project. Project love that should have stayed dormant.
With a quiet voice, Toussaint spoke up. "Namor, leave before I make you leave. You're not welcome in Wakanda and certainly not with her." He turned to Shuri whose watery eyes glittered. "Aunty, forgive me. I didn't know. I just didn't know. I wouldn't have put you through this if I had."
His aunt wiped at her eyes. She was probably angry at herself for letting Namor know how much he still affected her. A bit guilty too for no fault of her own.
Namor gave a slow nod, surveying the council room. Seeing the wreckage of furniture and the emotional state of Shuri. She had reached the boiling point.
"I see you've made your choice, Young Panther," he said, adjusting his cape. "Fine. I'll take my leave. The next time you contact me it should concern Talokan."
"Get. Out. As if we owe you anything! You came to us! You eavesdropped on my mother and me! You ... you sought me out! You disrupted me! You wooed me. You're almost immortal. I'm—I was just a young woman. Barely knowing anything. You tried to destroy me."
If venom could have dripped into vocal cords, the harshness of it would've been Namor's reply. "I could've tried to kill you a long time ago. The ills of Wakanda I've never blamed on you. Your people? Yes. Your foolish council? Of course. I only used deadly force when you showed the desire to kill because my people need me."
He sauntered closer to the door.
"Your flying contraption? I rendered it useless. I fought you one on one. With no tricks or gadgets. You don't think all of my armies couldn't have attacked you at once? It was I who held them back. I commanded 'Don't touch her. What has been done lies with her and me.' Even when I yielded, I knew there were those who wanted your head, so I took theirs first."
A tear fell from Shuri's eye.
Begging, Toussaint said, "Leave. Please just leave. None of this should've happened."
A sense of solemnness was shared between them all now.
"Itzia, your brother, great king that he was, shouldn't have compromised us." His back was turned to her now. "I wish you could've trusted me, then. I had given Wakanda no reason to doubt me. "
"You said yourself you wouldn't have let me go."
"But you're oh-so-smart, Shuri. You could've convinced me otherwise. With that brilliant mind of yours or even just your smile. I can't speak for the scientist, but you were never my captive."
"GO!" She cried, donning her panther suit. The mask couldn't hide her sadness.
Namor's eyes watered, but he let no tears fall. "Still, I'd have you as my queen, but if you cannot move forward. Neither can I." He turned his head toward him. "Young Panther, are we enemies now? My own child against me?"
Shuri cursed at Namor.
Toussaint covered his face with his hands, sick with guilt. Shuri only retracted her claws when the door firmly shut.
"Aunty, I swear—"
"Just stop it!" Shuri covered her face with her hands, breathing out slowly. "I need you to worry about school and Fabienne. Let me handle my own life. It was going perfectly well before ... Go home."
"Aunty please." He tried to grab her, but she shook his arm away.
"Toussaint, you, you busybody. My brother would've never done this. He was kind and thoughtful. I told you enough times to stop. T'Challa always put others' feelings before his own to his own detriment. To his dying breath!" Shuri declared, tears falling down her face. "You concocted this second chance at love for your own benefit. You're nothing like him."
She sat down on a bench, sniffing. It was all he could hear besides the beating of his own frantic heart.
Oh.
It was true.
The people that loved you the most, hurt you the most.
Namor had become every bit of a villain in his eyes. Guiding and mentoring him, while knowing he had fractured his family. At least Namor wasn't related to him and had his own self-interest. But Shuri was his aunt. He was her only blood family left. This was how she really felt.
Toussaint was shaking. His body was going to shut down from the emotional rollercoaster that wouldn't let him off.
He yelled. "Fine with me. I'm doing the best I can without him. As long as I'm nothing like you, I'll turn out great! You couldn't even save your own mother or punish the man who took her life. The worst part is that a part of you still wants him!"
Storming out of the council room felt good momentarily. But the pure devastation on his Aunty's face ruined it. Some of the palace attendants looked at him in suspicion, wondering who the random teen was roaming around. Thankfully for him, the palace was known to host bright teenage interns with his aunt's lab.
He had messed up big time, and she was vindicated in her anger. He only yelled at her out of pride. His father would have been smart enough to figure out the history on his own or ask the right people questions. He was just a failed imitation of a ghost.
No wonder Fabienne didn't like him. Did anyone? His mother probably just tolerated him because he looked like his father. Aunt Shuri too. Was he only loved off the goodwill of a man he never met?
What was the point?
Romantic love sucked. Familial love sucked. Friendships sucked.
A glob of snot ran from his nose. Toussaint curled up against a marble pillar in the palace. Tears streaked down his face. He was so pathetic. He couldn't even wait to have a breakdown in private. Some cupid he was.
The sound of soft footsteps got louder.
"Tutu, baby, let's go home. Your heart was in the right place."
His vision was blurred with tears, but he knew her voice. He'd always know his mother.