41. Sick Day

Younger Shuri used to relish sick days. An entire day to work on inventions from bed or watch soap operas from her kimoyo beads had been heaven. As soon as her nostrils were unclogged and the aches went away, being sick had been fun.

Now, things were different. Sickness was triggering to her. Who knew when a routine virus would take her life as it did her brother's? The root cause of T'Challa's illness was murky, but she knew the symptoms that had done him in. It started simply enough with coughing and a runny nose.

A mind as brilliant as hers still couldn't figure out the common cold. And she had tried twelve times, very close but unsuccessful.

Shuri drew her knees to her chest. Not being able to look at him.

Namor coughed harshly. Phlegm rattled in his throat. He rubbed at his watery eyes.

"Princess, hand me the spear."

"Get it yourself," Shuri remarked. He was in his hammock in a battle against fatigue and his pride. "You're no good to anyone like this."

"I'm K'uk'ulkan. My people expect me to provide for them. I must kill a fatted orca for the celebration tonight."

Shuri pulled at her afro puffs, to steady her trembling hands. A welcome distraction.

"Let Attuma or Namora do it. Bast knows one look from her would kill it."

He frowned. Harshness covered his face.

"Why are you here? Surely, you're needed elsewhere." He sneezed. "Rulers should rule and not meander aimlessly."

Wincing, Shuri met his gaze back with a nastier one.

"Your Namora dragged me from Wakanda. I had no intention of coming here."

"That child…"

She took a sharp breath. "She…she said she couldn't stand to watch you grow weak. It's been months, and you're not growing better. I understood her. Because I had that same desperation."

How much it took of his already depleting strength she didn't know, but Namor sat up in his hammock.

"Then, you'll have to nurse me back to health."

Her hands were the only thing she could concentrate on. These hands that could help everyone and create anything, couldn't save anyone she cared about in the end.

Namor continued on, his voice resolute despite the nasally sound. "Namora's intuition is rarely wrong. She trusts your skill as do I."

Shuri covered her face. "I … I can't do this. I'll make things worse. Nothing I do will change anything."

"Shuri," he said. "I won't tell you what you already know."

"Namor."

"Shuri."

Taking a shaky breath, Shuri reached for the spoon and the cough syrup, heading toward him.

42. Complicated

Namor spooked her.

Recently, it seems he would be in her thoughts, then physically appear shortly after. Her mother had called him a snake, always slithering to see what crevice he could squeeze himself through next.

They were the only ones in the long corridor of the hallway. Their shadows stretched across the patterned floor. He was dangerously close to her bedroom.

Inside the palace, attendants and Dora Milaje were stationed throughout, but Shuri knew their schedules and where to go to be alone.

"What shadowy corner did you come from?" Shuri asked, trying to feign unbotheredness but failing. "You're not supposed to be here. The council room is in the heart of the city."

She pressed a hand to her chest as if to still her heart. She didn't miss how his eyes had followed and stayed for a moment longer than necessary.

Namor opened his arms in a gesture similar to initiating a hug. "I wanted an audience with the Wakandan princess. But I was told she wouldn't be attending tonight, so I took matters into my own hands."

Shuri bit her lip. She shifted her weight to one leg, hugging her arms. She wore a too-big bomber jacket and a ratty, wrinkled green dress. All signs that pointed to her not expecting company.

He strutted around, majestic robe flowing, and admired the flowers in vases, the portraits of her family and past Black Panthers, and the Afrocentric paintings on the wall. The palace was decorated very traditionally in a cream and brown color scheme. Its extravagance was beautiful, but Shuri preferred her own room, which was less fancy and more metallic.

His finger lingered down a leaf of one of the potted plants.

"How beautiful things can become when allowed to grow," he said.

"My mother…" She murmured.

He finished for her. "Is not here."

She stared at him. It would only be a matter of minutes before one of the Dora spotted them in the hallway. Aneka's shift on the third floor would be soon.

"What do you want?"

"A lot of things, princess. But what I desire now is simply conversation with you." His smile was sincere and boyish.

Despite herself, she smiled back.

Griot could run the numbers later, but she had 3.5 projects to finish and five days until the deadline. She was logical, and procrastination was the devil if he existed. Her attention span wasn't like M'Baku's. Who cared if Namor was charming or had an underwater kingdom? Wakanda had the Golden City. Even a developing country like the United States had Coachella. What did Namor have? Winged feet?

He knocked imaginary dust off his broad shoulders. The white cape adorned with gold plates shined from overhead. She suddenly wanted to play with the tassel ropes at the end.

Namor's eyes crinkled. "Let's play your game from before. 20 questions. What will you ask me first?"

He had her attention.

"Have you ever had a Wakandan clam? Cherimoya? Or a soda?"

She silenced the reminders coming from her kimoyo beads. As a genius, she worked best under stress anyway.

Aside from Riri, very few people had genuinely cared about her scientific rambling. Sure, the people of Wakanda loved and appreciated her inventions, but Namor actually wanted to know the finer details. When he asked "why" or said "keep going," she saw true curiosity in him.

"Truly princess, your mind is a wonder." He folded his hands after pushing away his plate. Shuri had tried to sneak him some Wakandan delicacies when they made their quick escape to the kitchen, then to a patio in one of the many royal gardens.

"It's just simple chemistry with some 3d-printing. If it were possible, that's how I'd recreate the herb." She leaned back into the lawn chair. The evening sky was darkening into the night. How long had they talked together?

Namor rubbed his chin. "Perhaps, you need to extract pure vibranium to do so. The herb can't sustain itself from an inferior ingredient."

She snapped her fingers. "Yes, it's like a printer. Each copy is weaker than the original. Griot look for any materials with a virbranium consistency over 85%. The stronger materials contribute to higher confidence intervals."

"Yes, princess. Running a search now… Princess Shuri, no results found. Lower consistency to 70%?"

Shuri slammed her fist on the table. "No, Griot. Those low percentages are causing everything to fail! Just forget it. If it's not 80% bare minimum—"

Almost as if bored, Namor interrupted.

"I still find it strange, you talking into your wrist all the time." He grabbed her wrist without the jewelry. Played with it, then set it back on the table. "My mother's bracelet is pure virbranium."

Shuri let out a small gasp. Recognition entered her eyes until she scrunched her eyebrows together.

"That's the only physical thing you've left of your mother, right?"

"It's a gift. Use it as you see fit, itzia."

"You're brilliant as well. Y'know that?" Shuri gently punched his arm. Was she a schoolgirl? She busied her hands with taking away the plates.

"Not at all." His grin was snake-like, and his eyes were half-lidded.

She couldn't stop the girlish squeal. He had kissed her hand like she was a princess. Well, like, a Disney one.

"I should get going," Shuri told him softly.

She pulled at her ear, her neck feeling hot. Shyness covered her in waves. Finally, she met his gaze again.

Amusement and fondness were painted on his face.

"Why hide such a cute sound?" He touched his head with an exaggerated pained expression. "Or, is this how you trap everyone in your web? No one expects it until they're utterly charmed by you."

"You think I'm charming?"

"No, I think you're enchanting." He stepped closer to her. She could see droplets of water in his hair. She wanted to rub her thumb over his right eyebrow, trace his ear, press a kiss to his neck, and dissect him on a table. See how far this curiosity for him would take her.

She scrunched her nose. "Aren't those synonyms?"

His voice lowered smoothly. "Not to me."

Her thoughts were jumbled for sure.

Another delirious giggle poured from her. She couldn't handle the full weight of his attention on her. He made her feel breathless and lightheaded.

"Goodbye Ku'uk— Namor." Shuri murmured softly. She dared to glance at him again.

"Shuri, now!" Ramonda barked.

They were leaving a Talokan cultural exchange being held at a Wakandan festival.

Attuma and a squad of warriors demonstrated their footwork and deftness with spears. Then, a group of young girls danced a traditional dance with boys drumming for them. It was different but felt familiar to her. Lastly, the Talokan woman sang a beautiful melody with Namor leading the vocals.

The timbre of his voice was smooth and rough at the same time. A smoky tone.

She had felt his eyes on her as if he were singing for her. Her kimoyo beads couldn't quite pick up all the nuances of his language, but the rough translation was that the song had been about love.

M'Baku clapped heavily in the background. He thanked everyone for coming and for the Wakandan women who organized the showing.

Shuri turned her head back toward the stage.

With a knowing look, Namor held a hand up in greeting. Then, he started to walk to her, Attuma and Namora quickly following behind.

"Princess, it was a pleasure." He reached for her hand.

No, you cannot kiss my hand here! Shuri shrieked in her head. She was moments from voicing it audibly.

Ramonda stiffly pulled her arm like a child.

"Yes, a fine performance. Much different than singing others to their deaths, now is it?"

His eyes darkened. "The only deaths I ensure are the ones worthy of it, Queen. Same as your husband."

Ramonda choked. Shuri wanted to die. She had told him that in confidence.

"Return to your bodyguards, Nay-mor. Be concerned with what concerns you." the Queen of Wakanda recollected herself.

At Shuri's wounded expression, Namor's anger simmered and he reached for her again. Perhaps, in apology. Shuri jerked away from him, letting her mother lead her away.

Close to her ear, her mother told her. "I'm not going to ask how he knows that, Shuri. Birds cannot tweet too much for the cat lies in wait."

Ramonda was holding her hand now, no longer in a hurry to usher her away. They walked through the festival stalls. One of the rare times royalty like her mother could be out and about. The mango juice vendor made the Wakandan salute as they passed his stall. A Talokan selling corn and cakes was next to the booth.

She whimpered weakly. "I talk too much, sometimes, Mama. But we should be able to speak without fear of someone using it against us."

Her mother stroked her face.

"Child, that wasn't against you. He fully intended to put me in my place. Ha! As if. Greater men have tried and failed."

"I know, Mama, but it was still low. But I didn't appreciate you grabbing me like that. It made me feel like a criminal. Like, I did something wrong. I'm an adult. You can tell me your desires, but I'm free to go and stay where I wish."

Ramonda pursed her lips but nodded. "I apologize, Shuri. I just wanted to leave as quickly as I could. The longer we stayed the longer the conversation would've gone or worse."

Half of Shuri's mind was on the buttered Talokan corn on the cob in her hand and the other part kept replaying her mother's words.

"Or worse…"

It wasn't a mere three days before Ramonda and she were fighting again. As a child, Shuri and her mother had never had an argument last longer than an hour. They were closer than most daughters and mothers. But as she grew older, more distance came between them.

"Shuri, you must grow up, and realize your status. With T'challa gone—" Ramonda frowned, taking a staggered breath. "Your brother is no longer on this side. I won't rule forever. It's your birthright if you choose, and I know you'd make a fine queen."

"Mum, I'm sorry. I'll finish the projects for the environmental summit tonight." Shuri apologized. "It was just nice to have someone who genuinely enjoyed my company. You know I was never the best at making friends. It's why T'challa is—was my best friend."

Ramonda cupped her daughter's face with her hands.

"This isn't some boy band from your youth, Shuri. That is a "man." A strange one at that. No good will come of it. I've to make you aware, so you can avoid a hard lesson."

Shuri nodded and hugged her mother, knowing in her heart she was going to meet with Namor again.

Their next impromptu meeting had him whisking her back to Talokan.

How had he known she would be wandering the Wakandan beach shore at night? And why had she been waiting for him? She wasn't so naive as to ignore the endorphins she felt from their time together, but the pull she had towards him felt almost supernatural. It had to be to get her out of her lab willingly.

She laid her head on his shoulder and played with the ends of his cape. His thigh felt hard and sturdy pressed up against her own.

"It's probably getting late I should go." Without a method of transportation, she was stuck with the bulky suit or Namor transporting her on his back.

"One day I wish you wouldn't always have to leave," he whispered into the darkness.

"Huh?"

He heard her but didn't answer again. Instead, he pulled her up to take her back home.

Shuri screamed at him.

"What's wrong with you? You cannot threaten an elected official! Or waterbomb a United Nations meeting! You've to leave them to their delusions, but you don't strike them preemptively."

Without raising his voice, he was angrier than her. His tone was chilling. "It was a meeting of deceit and conquest. Don't be naive. I tried your way until I could stomach no more of their lies. I just did what was best."

She slammed her hands against his chest roughly. Did he realize how he was working her mother to the bone to cover for his actions?

"Best for who?"

"My people!" He yelled back.

"For sure, 'cause it wasn't for me. Not for Wakanda who you are so-called allies with. All for shortsighted Namor."

The next retort was on her tongue, "Namor the boy without love. Well, are you the boy without common sense as well?, but she held back the words. Nastier words were threatening to spill out her mouth.

"No, it was. You're my people too. I was protecting you. Did you know they were coming to plunder Wakanda next?"

Shuri held her face in her hands. Needing to cloak her expression. He was unhinged. Mother was right.

"You cannot think for me. You don't know how to protect me. I'd never wish for this type of violence.

"My fighting is for a reason, justice or defense. Talokan won't be put down and neither will I. In the end, you'll appreciate me."

Her face was incredulous.

He walked away with nothing of their argument resolved.

"I hate you," Shuri whispered, but, of course, he heard with those ears of his.

Laughing darkly, he told her. "Get in line."

[Inevitably Ramonda will be right, but she has to let Shuri be hardheaded.

I'd think Shuri would have some trauma with any sickness even something as light as a cold.

Also, thought it would be fun to have Namor contribute directly to shuri recreating the herb. She still figured it out herself, but he pointed her in the right direction]