42c. History pt 3.
Okoye crossed her legs, setting the cup of black tea down.
"Repeat this again with sense, Toussaint," she told him.
Toussaint sighed, shifting in his chair. How many times would he need to go over this?
"When Aunty arrives for her council meeting with K'uk'ulkan, lock the door. I've already reached out to Lord M'Baku not to show up, and an anonymous—but oh so handsome—caller let the elders know the meeting would be held elsewhere. Shout out to the Udaku voice modulator."
She narrowed her eyes. The sun's rays from the window brightened the whole room and lit her face. Toussaint was sitting at the table with her, full of the sweets Okoye could now indulge in as a former Dora Milaje.
"Elsewhere?"
"Uh, maybe Jabari land, Canada, or somewhere else. I forgot, really." He nervously chuckled. There was no way Okoye could kill the next ruler of Wakanda. But a non-fatal injury was still on the table.
Wet foot slaps distracted Toussaint. Attuma had returned from one of his multiple daily showers as Talokans needed to stay hydrated. He raked a hand through his wavy, water-locked hair, passing into the kitchen. As he walked by, he brushed his hand on the small of his wife's back. The small gesture softened Okoye by 25%.
Toussaint rolled his eyes amusedly. Uncle Tuma was good at redirecting her wrath or annoyance. The two worked well together.
Okoye firmly declared, "Tutu, leave this mischief behind. You're no child."
"Oh, so now I'm a child, but any other time I'm—" he cleared his throat. "—A child who acts with no consequence. Juvenile. Naïve."
"Is this your poor, poor impression of me?"
Giving a snort, Toussaint replied, "Uh, yeah. First of all, that was a banger impression! Right, Uncle?"
Attuma absentmindedly searched for flour in the cabinet. "I desire to live another day, Stingray. You should do the same."
"Okay, okay. Let's forget my amazing impersonations for a moment. Shouldn't Aunty deserve some happiness? Maybe they just need to get everything out in the open."
Okoye moved from the small table to stand in front of him. Soon, he would be taller than her, but for now, he looked up.
"It's by Bast's grace and your Aunty's mercy that I don't gut that fish man where he stands. He took too much from Wakanda." She hissed into his ear.
He waited a bit for the explanation, but it never came as usual. "But he gave you your husband too. Inadvertently at least. Isn't this a conflict of interest?" Toussaint gestured at the other towering fish man in the kitchen.
"No, I never let love, and especially not men come before my loyalty. Ask W'kabi." Okoye looked resolute, and he could see no waver in her.
"Who?"
The door to the oven shut. Recently, Attuma had become obsessed with baking bread. Wakanda had access to different spices and flour than Talokan.
Attuma answered for her, smirking through his water respirator. "The scraps before she met a real man."
"Tsk. Tsk." Okoye sucked her teeth. "My ex-husband. We were an arranged marriage, but it was good, lovely even, until it wasn't. Love isn't always enough, little one."
"I know that. I just want to help." Toussaint thumbed the embroidery of the tablecloth. It was styled in the colors of the Border tribe, metallic silvers and warm blues. "He loves her, and she loves him."
Okoye squeezed his hand.
"There are few who can say they love Princess Shuri more than I. All of this fallout—I've some part to blame. She wouldn't have met him without me."
"Woo! Woo!" He cheered.
"That isn't a good thing. Yet another trauma I indirectly heaped on her. You don't need to play matchmaker, Tutu. You just need to pass your exams. Think I don't know? Nakia says your mathematics is quite poor. We need a ruler who can count, Toussaint."
He pouted. "Wow, Aunty 'Koye is now a jokester."
She smiled a beautiful smile. "I've always been a comedian. Life is short, so we must laugh. Now, enough hiding out here. Your mother is expecting you."
"And there!" Toussaint dropped the pile of books onto the floor. Heavy educational textbooks to graphic novels littered the porch in an array of colors.
A particularly glossy book cover caught his attention. It was thin with a dark theme.
"Mama, is that a Nightwing comic you're trying to take?" He asked his mother.
Shuri dropped her own pile of books securely in a box next to his.
"Nakia, why must you transport so many physical books? I've told you visual books are what everyone's using now. Your students can read and see their literature in real-time. Even though they're not as advanced, ebooks are still an option. Save all this paper."
His mother called from somewhere inside the house as the front door was open for ease of book transportation. Her voice sounded far away while he heard her rummaging for things. "Physical books never go out of style, Shuri. The little ones at my academy may have never seen these classics from our country. There's so much the world is learning of Wakanda even after all these years."
"No way! You're bringing them Batman comics too? I love those." Toussaint cried. Did his Mama understand the worth of some of these books?
His favorite aunty caught his eye. Amusement was plain on her face. "Bast, can you imagine if we had a bats-man in real life?"
"Auntyyy, there are many heroes without powers. You and Mama taught me that."
"I'm not roasting his lack of powers but rather the lack of ingenuity. How do you have a man this rich and intelligent by non-Wakandan standards, and he never invents anything for his people or gives back? I've so many ideas that I want everyone to try and experience."
"Well—"
"Tutu, the worst of it," Shuri explained while sorting the books. "His outfit. I'd have designed something much better. The bat motif could stay, and we'd keep the overall design aerodynamic, but the cape wouldn't just be for aesthetics. I promise your panther suit will be brilliant." She pulled at her necklace.
"Such a fashionista, Aunty," Toussaint quipped. She was on her what, fifth iteration of the Black Panther suit? Sometimes, adding a new functional element or just changing the accent colors from gold to purple and back again.
He tried not to roll his eyes. In a world of superheroes, natural disasters, and birthrights, he found solace in fictional comics. Batman never had to deal with council elders or Thanos or learn how to be a king. He didn't even have to deal with cultural shock. With the brunt of his life in Haiti, he didn't always fit in well with Wakandan culture and other teens never let him forget that. He loved the island life, which didn't always match Wakanda's fast pace.
Shuri shared his enjoyment of the comics. When there was free time, he usually updated her on the latest stories.
Toussaint saw the perfect book from the pile.
"Look, Aunty! Your lover has competition now." He slid the Aquaman volume to her with a smug look. "He has an underwater kingdom too. And those bulging muscles. He doesn't have that quiet intensity though." Toussaint rubbed his chin.
"Enough, Toussaint," Shuri said, becoming serious. "Let's finish packing these books away for your headmistress."
His mother shut the door to their house. She had a children's book in Amharic under her arm. No doubt taking it to get translated into the local language once they got back to Haiti for the summer. She was still headmistress of his school, but she was dividing more of her time in Wakanda. He was getting closer to the age of challenging and taking over the throne.
Nakia asked Shuri. "What's wrong? What did my boy say?" She gave him a pointed look. "You look sour, sis. Like, a grape."
"Nothing. Tutu's just being silly. He talks of things he knows nothing about."
"Oh, Fabienne, is it? That's children's play. Not a relationship."
"NO!" Toussaint squawked. Bast, he sounded like a bird. Tempting his fate, he dared to say, "I was just saying the comic book character Aquaman is like Aunty's first love, K'uk'ulkan."
All at once, Toussaint felt the strangulating silence. They were outside, but it was like all the air had dwindled down to only the uneven breaths of his mother and his hurried breathing. He put his hands in his pockets, needing to move to stop feeling antsy.
"Toussaint," was all his mother said. As a highly decorated, former spy she appeared normal, but as her baby boy, he could sense her tenseness.
"Just poking fun, Mama." He rubbed the back of his head. "K'uk'ulkan, Aunty, and my bibi have a history apparently. I've heard he's not a bad guy. Whatever he did, he probably feels really bad about it now. Even Bibi would say to forgive him if she were here."
Shuri swallowed. Her brown eyes wavered between a shield of steel and wariness. She stared at him for the longest. He wasn't even sure if she was really seeing him or lost in a memory.
Finally, she broke the stare. "I've a council meeting to get ready for this afternoon. I can't just wear my joggers and hoodie as much as I'd like though if I were queen I could. Help your Mama with the rest of the cases, all right?" She pressed a kiss to his forehead, which he hurriedly wiped away.
The reference to the king of Talokan had spooked her away, and her avoidance habit reared its head. Mama said she had a tendency to run away from her problems and act like they didn't exist. Well, she would have to confront it when locked in a room with him, now wouldn't she?
"Shuri!" Nakia called to Shuri's back, but she was already on her way with a Dora materializing from out of nowhere. Those women were sneaky!
Nakia turned to him, but there wasn't anger in her eyes. Her bright orange sundress contrasted with the storminess of her expression.
"Toussaint, you don't know anything about that man, what that creature is capable of to be saying his name so lightly."
Here she was treating him like a child.
"You've killed too, Mama. To protect Wakanda. To protect yourself. To protect a friend, perhaps. You had your reasons. Maybe he has his. If colonizers weren't so bloodthirsty, he probably would try to reason with them peacefully. But they only understand action, not mercy."
Ignoring him completely, she said, "You've met him. Multiple times. He taints your speech, child." Nakia gave an uneven laugh. "You may be Haitian, but you're Wakandan too. No Wakandan would be a follower of his. I thought you were sneaking out to the beach at night to meet your friends."
She knew?
"I always know, Toussaint. I just don't always mention it. You're not to see him again. Understood?"
Toussaint began to organize his scattered pile of books to avoid his mother's gaze. "Of course, I'm not the one who needs to see him. Aunty does. They need closure."
"What they need is—T'challa, oh I wish you were here." His mother sighed and rubbed her forehead. Whenever she called for his baba in frustration, it made him equally sad and annoyed.
She cupped his face with her hands.
"I love you with all my heart, Tutu. But Namor isn't afraid to take away the ones we love."
Toussaint shook his head. "Not without reason. He's not looking for a bloodbath. Only retribution."
"Wakanda has given him a reason." Her eyes bulged.
"He's dealing with loss just like Aunty. He told me he lost two spiritual children, Ixchel and Luna. If you could just meet him, Mama, I know you'd understand. You told me I'm a great judge of character, so believe me!"
"I gave him a reason, Toussaint! Do you understand? And I'd do it all again to protect Shuri. My sweet Shuri."
His mother rarely raised her voice. He had many punishments where she didn't raise an octave. But the history of K'uk'ulkan had a normally calm and collected woman resentful and yelling. His stomach twisted. What if he had made a mistake?
The forced meeting between aunt Shuri and K'uk'ulkan was already set, so it was too late to back out now. K'uk'ulkan was probably there now. But it was hard to grasp the severity of his meddling without the full story.
"Mama, let's not fight." He hugged her with his heart beating fast.
He just wanted them to be happy. Was that so wrong? But what if she didn't need to be happy with him?
"Toussaint, you're right. You need to know the whole story. Namor appeared one day on our shores a year after your father passed. He wanted an alliance with his nation and ours, and, during the introduction to our council, he met Shuri. She was so young she couldn't have foreseen him, and I wasn't there to discern him for her."
Nakia squeezed him tighter. "As I was busy procuring funding for my academy, I wasn't here during their initial courting. I had seen him once in a livestream of court politics and one other time when he and your aunt were kissing behind a pillar. They were dead to the world in their shortsighted lust." She frowned.
"Didn't he love her? It had to be way more than that. Look at how Aunty acts about him. That's way beyond doing the natural obligation as the elders say. When people at my school hook up, they cry one day and move on to the next like Fabienne."
"That man has no love for her, Toussaint. If he loved her, he wouldn't have irrevocably hurt her as he did. No one that loves you would do that."
Toussaint paused. "He loved Ixchel and Luna. I saw how anguished he was to utter their names. He feels like he failed them. What if he loved them so much, he hurt Aunty on their behalf? Or what if he didn't mean to hurt Aunty at all? What if it was an accident?"
"Believe it or not, I didn't dislike Namor at first. I give everyone a chance until otherwise. But my loyalty is to Wakanda, and any threat to our country is to be eliminated."
Eliminated? It scared him a little to hear his Mama slip so easily back into the role of a spy and probably an assassin.
Nakia pulled away from him to place her hands on his shoulders. Keeping direct eye contact, she destroyed his whole world in only a few words.
"Namor killed your grandmother. Queen Ramonda drowned because he threw a direct water bomb at her. Finally, I'll tell you the whole story."
baba = dad, father
bibi = grandma