The Promise

by toonmili

After the intense battle with the Princess of Wakanda, Namor finds himself in the throes of an all-consuming obsession that is believed to be tearing him away from his people. He recruits Princess Shuri, the object of his preoccupation, to help him execute a dangerous plan that will reaffirm or slowly dismantle their complex relationship in the eyes of the Talokanil. Namor x Shuri

1. The Princess Of Wakanda

TITLE: The Promise

CHARACTERS: Shuri, Namor, Okoye, Namora, Fen

NOTES: This story is set after Wakanda Forever canon. I make some inferences to fill in the blanks. But most of my guesses are reasonable to assume.

Cultural Notes: The way I depict certain things may differ from modern beliefs. I try to ground Namor's people's belief system on what would have been Pre-European conquest.

I use two languages. Most of the story is in English and there are tiny sprinklings of Yucatec Mayan. Some of it is translated in the story if it felt organic and others I have not. I can't put the translation at the beginning because it will give away what happens in the story.

CHAPTER ONE: THE PRINCESS OF WAKANDA

Part I: The Favor

(SHURI)

February nights were always the chilliest in the Golden City. Of course, it was nothing compared to the snow-capped mountains of Jabari Land, but as Shuri sat by the river, her mind wandered back to her lab, where her jacket was draped over her swivel chair. She moved her hands up and down her arms, trying to generate some heat through friction but her numb fingertips only seemed the spread the coldness down her bare arm. Even her vibranium-based necklace, which contained her panther suit, felt cold around her neck.

It was time to call it a night. She had been there for more than two hours, sitting in quiet meditation, before the wind started to pick up. From experience, she knew it would only get worse as the night went on. And, if she needed any further proof that it was time to pack up, she was certain she saw some movement in the river. The rivers of Wakanda were home to some of the deadliest animals on the planet and she was not in the mood to face off with any of them that night. A wrestling match with a hippopotamus was the last thing she needed.

"Crocodiles," a voice said from behind her.

She sprang up from her seat. The panther suit encased her body as instantly as the thought entered her mind.

She turned on her heels, ready to pounce at the intruder. This was not a Wakandan. The familiar and comforting tone of their tongue was replaced by something…foreign.

"You!" she grunted. She released an exasperated sigh at the sight of the man in front of her. "It's a hippopotamus, look at the size of those ripples," she grumbled as she turned around and reclaimed her seat as the suit retreated into her necklace.

Shuri couldn't hear him as he moved behind her, he was so quiet even her enhanced senses couldn't detect him, but she could feel the air shift as he moved around her. He came to the front of her view, his bare back still moist with river water, and kneeled right at the edge. His fingers slowly submerged into the water. He moved his hand backward and forward until some movement could be seen in the water. A small crocodile, only about three feet, waddled its way out of the water and touched the tip of its nose to his opened palm. He turned back, with a triumphant smirk on his face. "You of all people should know that small things can leave big ripples. Would you like to say hello?"

"No," she said firmly. "I don't have time for magic tricks. Why are you here, Namor?" She had thought about it extensively. He should not be able to do some of the things could do. She had seen him command Orcas into the lakes of Wakanda, they were meant for the sea The heart-shaped herb didn't give her control over any wild wife. The science behind his abilities was a mystery.

He petted the crown of the crocodile, as if it were a puppy, and sent it on its way. He stood up and turned to her and eyed the empty spot where her mother once sat. She feared she would not be able to control herself if he dared to come any closer. But he didn't. He only stood at the edge of the water, the dying fire, making the gold around his neck glitter.

"I have a problem," he said simply.

"Am I meant to solve all your problems," she shot at him, remembering the last time they were at this spot together and the horrible series of events that followed.

"This one you can," he said calmly.

"And what's the price this time? Who needs to die in the name of solving your problems?" she asked. He always had a price.

His eyes traveled down from her eyes to the dancing flame. "I die this time."

"What?" she asked in flustered frustration. She had thought about this conversation many times. She had responses mapped out to dig at him in the worst ways possible. She knew he would ask for help eventually. She had planned that when that day came, she would make him work for it. But what he said caught her off guard.

"You look very amused by the idea, Princess."

"You dying is what would solve the problem?" she asked for clarity.

He shrugged. "In a sense."

"In what sense?" she asked, itching to get the information out of him. He was talking about dying, yet his tone suggested it was no less mundane than taking a Sunday stroll through the markets. She stood up, standing opposite him, with just the fire between them.

"I have a problem that requires me to die," he explained and tilted his head to the side. "And you have the very thing that can do it."

"What are you talking about?" she asked, throwing her hands up in frustration. "If you need me to kill you, you only need to tell me the time and place."

"Here and now," he said. He walked around the fire, his eyes watching hers as she followed him. "You once told me about the ritual you do here, one that allows you to pass through Xibalba and return your soul to your body."

Her brows frowned. "You mean the underworld? Are you talking about the ancestral plane?"

He only gave a slight nod as confirmation.

"You can only access it if you take the…" She stopped herself from saying anything further.

"The heart-shaped herb. I know. I remember everything you say…"

" Then you remember I told you it's gone. I couldn't recreate it… that's why my brother is dead. Weren't you listening?" she grunted, her hands squeezing into fists.

A smile crept on his lips and he shook his head. "I'm not a man of science Shuri but I know what should and shouldn't be possible. I was impressed that you were able to bring back Wakanda's protector using nothing but dead charred leaves." He raised his chin but looked down at her. There wasn't much height difference between them but he stood so tall at that moment. "But somewhere in the middle of the chaos of our battle, I figured out how you must have done it. I don't regret that I gave you the key to my defeat. I find it poetic." He shrugged and raised his left arm into view, his large hands were enclosed in a fist, and held it out and opened it out to her. A seed from the heart-shaped herb glowed in his hand. "I've been here for some time. I decided to help myself."

Her eyes narrowed and her nostrils flared as she looked at him. Was it ignorance or entitlement that made him believe he could desecrate sacred grounds and pick the herb with spiritual guidance first? "No," she said in disbelief at what he was asking.

"But you must?" he said calmly.

She shook her head. "I promised I would help you keep Talokan safe. It never included trampling over my people's traditions."

"Traditions you yourself don't believe in," he mused. "You told me you don't trust the wisdom of your gods. I trust your gods more than you."

"Do not take what I told you in confidence and twist it to suit your ends." Her mind wandered back to the hushed conversations they shared during the brief moments of civility between them before everything became irretrievably broken down. She shook the memory out to dispel it from her consciousness.

He sighed calmly and focused on her. "I don't wish to trample. It is out of respect I ask for your help."

"The offense is already committed."

"If it is done then we should move forward," he said coolly. "I really must insist, it is life or death."

Shuri turned to look at the fire that was all but gone. "If it's yours, I won't mind."

"It's yours too," he said. "Your life… and mine."

She turned to him. "Are you threatening me again?" she asked.

He gave a dry laugh. "Do I seem like I am in a position to make threats? I need your help."

"Or I die?"

"Or I die," he corrected. "Then you die."

"Why do I die if you die?"

He smiled. "Not everyone in Talokan is as forgiving as I am. This alliance works as long as I am here. If I'm not here…" he shook his head. "If I die, they will come for Wakanda."

He never told her a lie. She knew what he was saying had to be true. Their alliance was on shaky ground and he was the one holding it together. If anything were to happen to him, nothing was stopping the Talokanil from waging war on Wakanda for generations to come.

She reached into his hand and took the seed between the tips of her fingers. "I don't know your physiology or what it can do to you."

"You can figure it out," he said.

"This can either make you stronger or kill you," she stressed.

"I trust you will know the answer before I take it," he said simply.

She looked from the glow to him, he seemed hypnotized by it. She hated that he knew the part he played in it. "Who do want to see?"

"That's not important?" he said uncomfortably.

"Your mother," she said and closed her eyes. "No need to try to spare me now."

He looked away from her and back to the water. She wondered if his mind was taking him back to that day and if he managed to feel any guilt about what he had done at all.

"My people believe that when you dream you don't see with your eyes, you see with your soul. You see things you can't comprehend with your mind or your body. Do you have dreams, Shuri?"

"Nightmares… of you." It was meant as a dig but it was also true.

"There are no nightmares, there are only lessons and guides to tell you what you must do."

"Be wary of you?"

He winced." I wouldn't say that."

"And you, what is it you dream of?"

"I dream of my mother and she is calling me. She has been calling me. She is sending me messages. I can't understand them. I need to know what they mean. Do you understand?"

"And this is life and death?" she asked to be sure.

He nodded.

"Then we need to go to my lab," she said finally.

-o-

(K'UK'ULKAN)

There was a time when all he knew was love. The warm embrace of his mother's arms sheltered him for the first sixty years of his life. She cocooned him in a world of adoration and affection, where he sat at the center. She only spoke of love to him. The kind of love he would receive as a living deity and the kind of love he owed his people as their king. He lived in a cycle of endless love and adoration, and in return, he gave endless devotion and service. It was both simultaneous and consecutive. There was no end and no beginning to it. Love and service went hand in hand.

Until it didn't and love and service sat on opposite ends of the spectrum.

"Stretch out your right arm," she said as she waved her hands at a screen. A few instruments appeared to spout from the ground, being held up by black pieces of ever-moving metal. This was the Wakandan technology they boasted of. It amazed him to know what they were able to do with vibranium and it disappointed him to know that they naively believed that others would not covet it to a deadly end.

He stretched out his arm before her and she approached him holding up a needle. "I hope you have veins like normal people," she said with a sigh.

He wanted to smile at this but he knew it would only irritate her. "There isn't another way to do this."

"It's a needle," she explained. "It's how I will get your blood to test to see if it will work."

"I know…" he replied. 'I know what things are."

She rolled her eyes and took hold of his arm, her fine fingers cold to the touch. "Put your hand in a fist," she instructed and he did as she said. He looked at her as she pointed the needle at a faint vein that appeared. She pushed it towards his skin and the thin piece of metal bent against his skin, not even leaving a puncture mark.

She held it up and looked at it in the light above her head. Her brows raised and she turned to him.

"You didn't expect that?" he remarked, fighting the urge to laugh at her expression.

She simply averted her eyes, returned to her table of instruments and took another needle. "This is made with vibranium," she explained. "It should do the trick. They are very rare, and not the best use of resources if you ask me. But they come in handy for things like this."

She approached him again, this time with a tiny thumb pricker, and took his hand and turned it over hers. She stabbed the tip of his finger with the instrument in one quick motion and dropped his hand immediately like it was painful to even touch him. "That's it," she said and she turned to another console.

Her motions were quick and precise. She was as comfortable in her lab as he was in the water, moving seamlessly and confidently as she interacted with her instruments. He remembered that evening he showed her his city. She was so unsure of herself. Despite putting on a brave face, she called out to him as he guided her through the currents, that instinctual fear taking over, making her abandon whatever posturing she intended. The ocean was a terrifying place for strangers. It was important to him to see her terrified and to see her at ease and to see the love swell in her eyes as he beheld his people. It was important to him to know his friends and even more important to know his enemies.

She must have felt so out of place among his people, a creature of land exploring the sea. She was not like him; she could not travel between worlds. Land, sea, and sky were all accessible to him. However, he still understood how it might have felt for her because he never felt truly comfortable on land. His mother romanticized the surface so much. She always spoke of the feel of the warmth of the sun on her skin as she felt the earth beneath her feet, the magic of the wind, and the songs and sweet fragrance it carried. She said she felt grounded when she was on land but in Talokan her feet could never touch the ground. He dreamt that dream of the idealized surface world she promised along with her, sharing in her yearning for the sun and the sweet scent of tzapotl in the air. However, he knew he could never experience it with her as his guide. Without her, his introduction to the surface was a brutal experience from which he never recovered. He always felt like he could never catch his feet in the surface world. He felt ungrounded.

Sitting in the Princess's laboratory, he felt uneasy and unsure of himself. He didn't know what these instruments were and he didn't understand anything she was doing. But if she was observing him, it wasn't very obvious. She hardly looked his way at all. He found it both comforting and unsettling that she could not see him.

"Shuri." He found himself saying her name for no reason other than to get her to look at him.

With her back turned, she held up an index finger. "Wait," she whispered and she pulled up another screen to look at it. With a quick motion, two pillars of white orbs, dotted with blue ones stretched out before her. She placed her finger on her chin and looked between the two columns, her back still turned to him. "What is that... what is that?" she whispered to herself.

"What is what?" he asked. "What is this diagram you have created." He climbed off the medical desk and moved closer to her, careful to maintain a distance that would be comfortable for her.

"I didn't create it; it was generated from the data I input from your blood sample." She turned to look at him, her eyes making contact with him for the first time since she agreed to help him. "I've only heard about it in theory but I've never seen it before..."

Her excitement was palpable, he could feel it radiating from her as she looked at him, with something bordering on greed. He wanted to satisfy whatever that hunger was. "What is it that you see?"

She shook her head, clearly frustrated that he couldn't share in her excitement. She reached out to the column and pulled an orb that glowed red when she touched it. "This … it's the theoretical "X Gene". Human evolution right before our eyes."

There was something about his DNA that was different, he was not surprised. He always knew this. "I told you this the day you came to me. You know I am different because of the potion my mother took; it made me stronger. I was touched by the gods."

She shook her head and a smirk came to her face. "You didn't get this from your mother, you got this from your father."

"That's not possible, Shuri," he said confidently. She was mistaken.

She smiled. "You see here.…all these are the genes that get affected by the heart-shaped herb, as seen with my sample, it's actually very similar." She highlighted a few orbs that glowed in response to her touch. "But this," she said holding up the blue orb in her hand. "This should not be here at all."

"Because I am chosen," he explained.

She shook her head. "I can't say if you're chosen or not but it's all here." She said looking at the column of orbs. "Throughout time man has evolved over the millennia. There is research that says the influx of these superhuman beings is our next stage of evolution. It's a mutation but It's nothing divine, it's just what we do as a species." She chuckled at this.

He knew she never believed in the gods and she would prefer to put her faith in things she could prove but he lived long enough to know that there were things that remained a mystery to scientists, which they could not explain. "Why can't it be both human and divine?"

Her brows frowned and she turned to look back at her work. "If you're waiting for me to think you're a god, you'll be waiting a long time."

"I'm not," he said. "I know you don't believe in your gods, why would you believe in mine?"

"I never said…"

"You did," he interrupted her. "I heard you." A veil of sorrow flashed in her eyes as she thought about the time she said those words. He could remember it was with her mother by her side. He didn't intend to make her think about her mother. "Princess, you will come to know that divinity is within all of us." Her eyes caught his eyes again and lingered there for a moment "I see it in you." He could see her spirit yielding for a quick moment but she blinked it away and her brows frowned as she took a step back from him and turned to the console. Finding comfort in her soulless technology.

"The black panther is meant to be an avatar for Bast. Don't you find it odd that Bast would choose a non-believer as her avatar? It's almost like there is no Bast at all."

"No, not the I'x." he shook his head. "You, Princess, Shuri. I saw it in you before you became what you are now. I am now only more certain of it than ever."

She released an exasperated sigh and began to type and interact with her screen furiously. "You're distracting me now. Go stand somewhere else."

He understood that he made her uneasy. He was never taught to be deceitful. He only knew how to say what was on his mind. In the time he had been around her, he was fighting every urge to confess everything that had been plaguing him. He promised himself that it was a burden he would never ask her to bear.

He walked back to the medical observation table and sat on it again. The screen around him illuminated and a diagram of him in his war clothes popped up, complete with his adornments from his people. She had created a perfect likeness of him without his permission and her work spaces knew he was in the room. She didn't need to look at him directly to observe him, her environment did it for her.

He smirked at his. She was so clever.

"Success rate 70%" a disembodied male Wakandan voice announced.

She turned to him again. "That is not very high."

"What was your rate when you knew it was safe to take?"

"98%"

He shrugged. "I will be fine. I'm stronger than you." He put his feet up on the table and lay backward.

"You said you took it before, what happened?"

He shook his head. "Nothing."

"Why do you think something will happen this time?" she asked with skepticism.

He thought back to the day they fought on the shores. When he looked at her as he lay on the ground with his life in her hands, he felt himself being transported somewhere. He was sure of it. It was the first time his mother reached out to him. It took him four hundred years to see her again. Thereafter, he only saw foggy glimpses of her when he slept, like memories. He wondered if he needed to be on the brink of death as he was before to see her as clearly as he did that day. When Namora helped him with the potion from the heart-shaped herb and nothing happened he knew what the problem was. "Because I am with you and I am here in this spiritual place, where the gods still traverse. It has not been desecrated like my mother's home."

She came upon him and looked at him, she bit her lip in concentration. She placed a black beaded bracelet, similar to what she always wore right on his heart. He reached up and picked it up between his fingers to get a better look. "Is this yours?" he asked and she smacked it out of his hand with irritation.

"Don't touch it," she complained. Her eyes narrowed to slits, like a cat about to strike. His lips curled up at this. She was always so spirited.

"It's kimoyo beads. I can't give you mine. They are specially designed for me and they learn more about me as I use them."

"So, whose are these?"

"My mothers."

He felt his heart sink. He wished he never asked the question.

She pulled up a display screen and looked at it with concern. She placed the tip of her fingers right below where the kimoyo beads rested. He could feel her skin through the cotton fabric of the thin lab garment she made him wear. Her fingers felt warm now and that warmth traveled through his body creating a contrasting chill.

She shook her head. "Why is your heart racing like this." She turned the screen to him so he could see. Indeed, there was an indication that his heartbeat was faster than it should be. He didn't need to see the screen to know it. He felt it. It had been that way for a while. "Is it normally like this?" She moved her fingers off his chest and reached for his hand and felt for his pulse at his wrist. "You're not in a medical state to do any experiments… it's not safe."

"It will be fine."

"Your heart is racing like crazy," she argued indicating to the screen.

He nodded. "I know but I am not unwell."

"This says otherwise."

"Shuri. I am well. I am only nervous."

Her entire face morphed into an expression he had never seen before. She looked at him in complete disbelief. "You're scared?"

He laughed. "No, like I said, I am only nervous."

"About what… dying? You don't actually die. You only see the ancestral plain if all goes as it should."

He shook his head. "About other things, not dying. That, I am prepared for. Please proceed."

She raised her shoulders and sighed. "If you insist." She reached for the bowl, which contained some purple liquid, and held it above him. "Raise your head a little," she instructed and her hands wrapped around the back of his neck. The heart reading immediately spiked again, causing her to glance at it. "Stop that."

"It's not voluntary, Princess."

She held his head up with one hand and poured the drink into his mouth with another. She placed his head back down gently and looked down at him and back at the monitor again. It tasted like nothing at first but then he could taste a trace of bitterness at the back of his throat, making him want to gag. She was moving around him quickly and she could feel her hands on various parts of his body, his arms his forehead his heart. He felt like he could taste the bitterness traveling through his system. His body wanted to fight it. He didn't know what it would be like but he didn't expect this. But when she came into his view again Shuri was calm as she looked at him.

"Is it working?" he asked her, his hand reaching out for hers but she only stepped out of the way.

"Close your eyes," she said and her fingers touched his eyelids, bringing them down until he was swathed in darkness.

Part II: The Journey

(SHURI)

"Is he dead?" Okoye asked looking down at the comatose man in front of her.

Shuri shook her head and pointed at the screen. "His brain function is mostly normal, with a little bit of overactivity in the areas responsible for pain but otherwise as expected. His heart is a little elevated but that seems normal for him. His temperature is very high though."

"Bast help us!" Okoye cried placing her damp cotton cloth on his head. "He is burning up."

"He is running a fever of 39.4 degrees," Shuri said, looking at him.

"And how long has he been like this?" Okoye asked, the panic clear on her face. Shuri hoped that Okoye would be able to provide a cooler head. She had been panicking for the past six hours. She didn't need another person to panic with her.

"Seven hours, forty-three minutes, and a few seconds."

"I have seen the ritual before. It should not take more than ten minutes." Okoye pointed out.

Shuri held her cheeks in the palm of her hands and began to pace the room. "I know that. What do you want me to do? I can't pull him out. I don't know what will happen. And I don't even know how to." When it came to science, she was always confident but these spiritual things were matters she avoided most of her life.

"We need to call an elder," Okoye said decisively.

Shuri shook her head emphatically. "We can't. If they know I let an outsider take the sacred herb I will be shunned…. You know this."

"If you knew this, why did you let him take it? What possessed you?" Okoye was now shouting at her and gesticulating with her spear like she was ready to fight her for the poor choices she made.

"He demanded," Shuri shouted back. She rubbed her brows and looked down at him. "We need to move him. It will be morning soon and people will start to arrive. How will I explain this to them?"

"Forget how them, how will you explain it to that General of his?"

"Namora…" Shuri asked.

Okoye sucked her teeth and screeched. "No, the one who wears a shark skull as a hat."

Shuri shrugged. "I'll tell them the truth. He asked…."

"Did he ask or did he demand? First, you say "demand" and now you say "ask"… Those are two different words Shuri."

"Not with him," she argued. The memory of the last time he asked her for something was seared in her brain.

Okoye released a weary sigh and tilted her head to look at Shuri. "You should have never met with him in secret. I would have advised you against this madness."

"I didn't choose to meet him," Shuri cried, outraged by the suggestion. "He just showed up, unannounced as always."

"And what did he say to convince you?"

She closed her eyes and tried to think back on his exact words. He occupied so much room wherever he stood, even in her mind, he took up too much space. She had to search for the exact thing he said at that moment among all the other things he said that were still stuck in her mind. "He said it was a matter of life and death, his and mine."

"What did he mean?"

"He needed to talk to his mother. He said she was trying to reach him. Maybe warn him, I don't know."

Okoye shook her head in disappointment. Something about the way she looked at her reminded her of her mother. "You let him trick you?" Okoye asked in disbelief. "What if he wants the herb to become more powerful?

Shuri had considered this but she knew it couldn't be true. He had been to the site and harvested the herb himself. If he wanted to use it to get the power, he would have figured out a way that didn't involve her. "He's not tricking me… he's not like that."

"The man who is responsible for your mother's death is incapable of tricking you, eh." Okoye sucked her teeth again and turned from Shuri to look at Namor with disgust.

Shuri never intended it to sound like she was defending him. She was only highlighting a terrifying fact about him. His arrogance afforded him complete candor when it came to his intentions. He expected people to bend to his will. "He only ever tells me exactly what he is going to do. He expects people around him to facilitate his caprices. If he said he wants to speak to his ancestors, it's because he wants to speak to his ancestors."

"Then his ancestors must be in the deepest depths of a watery hell. Why is it taking so long?"

Shuri looked back at his vitals and bit on her lower lip. "Whatever the reason, we can't keep him here but I have an idea."

"Where do you hide a fish man who waged war on your country not so long ago?"

Shuri shrugged and used her index finger to point upstairs. "My royal bed chambers?"

"And you are trying to avoid scandal you say." Okoye only ever needed one look to make her entire opinion known and at that moment Shuri was getting that look.

"Listen, we have to keep him somewhere. At least I have control over who comes and goes there," she explained. "We still have a few hours before sunrise. Now let us get going."

Shuri had outfitted the top floor of her laboratory tower with sleeping and living quarters when she turned of legal age. She used to want that time away from the nagging and watchful eyes of her mother and the ability to work long nights in peace. She only used it sporadically until recently, when the Royal Palace was handed over to M'Baku. Of course, he said she could stay and he didn't want a palace and Jabari Land had all the comforts he needed. But it was now crawling with Jabari men who stalked the hallways shedding fur fibers as they walked by, chanting their war cries. She preferred the peace of her own living quarters where there were no memories to contend with either.

Okoye shook her head in disbelief. "I can't believe you're involving me in this sacrilegious scheme you two hatched up."

"We did not hatch anything up… not together… I told you, he demanded."

"Asked," Okoye corrected.

Her skin crawled at the suggestion that she and Namor could have any collaboration that was not part of their alliance to protect their kingdoms. She was not ready to admit the alliance she had secured was on shaky ground. Many great warriors died that day. If the elders were to learn that the only person who stood between Wakanda and Talokan and the uneasy peace they brokered was Namor, they would be sorely disappointed. They believed the pact was between Wakanda and Talokan, not Namor and herself. And worst yet, his generals all held opposing views to him. This peace was precarious at best. It was not worth the losses unless they could gain a true ally from it. She trusted Namor to be true to his word. But his word was worth nothing if he was gone.

"Okoye," Shuri said firmly. "I want your help, but I'll do it alone if I have to."

Okoye looked at her and whatever she saw on her face made her brows relax. "How do we move him? She finally asked.

-o-

TWO DAYS LATER

His vitals were deteriorating. His blood pressure was too high, his heart rate was elevated and erratic, and his fever had spiked to 45.2 degrees, enough to kill any normal man. Shuri looked at the stats and shook her head in confusion. Usually, it would take a normal human about three days before it got in this condition but with Namor, everything was speeding up. His physiology was a mystery to her but she knew from the state he was in; he couldn't take it for much longer.

She moved to touch his forehead again, hoping that the reading was somehow inaccurate. They were never wrong. She had designed the system herself. She let the tip of her fingers touch his eyelids softly, aware of how tender they usually were, and tried to pull them open. Behind the curtain of thick black eyelashes, she could see the pupils in his eyes were so dilated, only a thin circumference of brown remained. His eyes didn't even respond to the light in the room. She tried it many times before. "Namor," she said, looking to see if he would respond to his name. His face remained unchanged. Shuri didn't know how to describe what she felt. It was two conflicting emotions that were wrestling in her brain for dominance. On one hand, there was something about the site of him being weak and vulnerable in front of her that gave a certain amount of pleasure. She felt like his entire life was in her hands again, and she could end it if she desired. Yet, it was that control that made her terrified. His life was in her hands and she was ultimately responsible for preserving it.

"Griot," she shouted into the air. "What's the diagnosis?"

"My calculations are meant to identify the average human conditions and 1302 different species of animals. His readings are incompatible with my system."

Shuri sighed in frustration. "I know, give me a guess."

"I can provide an inference within 90% range of accuracy."

"Yes, let me hear it," she urged.

"He has hypotension, tachycardia, and tachypnoea… I've done a comparative analysis in all known medical journals and trials. This usually indicates severe dehydration."

She felt a jolt of energy pass through her. Of course. She was ashamed that she had not thought of it. He was dehydrated. He had been in this state for almost three days. She knew he drew his strength from the water. But she never considered that just being away from it for too long was enough to cause him this level of harm. She never thought of it. They had to use industrial strength heaters to even begin to weaken him when they fought. He was in a normal humid environment. There should have been enough moisture in the air to sustain him. He didn't live in the ocean like the rest of the Talokanil. She had seen his sleeping quarters. He preferred to sleep above ground. She couldn't imagine he would be in that condition every time he woke up from sleeping. There had to be something about the heart-shaped herb that was causing the quick deterioration.

She dashed across the room and into her bath chamber. The room was a circular room with a sunken floor at the center that would be filled with pure spring water from the mountains and it was always freezing cold because of this. The vibration-based thermostat would heat it to an appropriate temperature almost instantly. "Griot, override the thermostat. Keep the water at 5 degrees."

"Overriding system."

She looked at the sunken bath as it filled with water and grabbed a few towels. She was hoping against hope that a dunk in the water might be enough to pull him out of whatever trance he was in but if it wasn't she needed to be prepared.

She walked back through the door and was met by two faces standing at the side of her bed.

"You're here," Shuri said, trying to sound brave.

"K'uk'ulkan," Namora breathed, kneeling at the bedside. She turned to Shuri and her eyes bore daggers into her. "You did this."

Namora was not dressed in the usual fearsome attire. Okoye was instructed to seek out the secluded riverbank and blow on the shell they were given to contact Namor. Shuri hoped that there would be someone on the other end listening. She hoped whoever that someone was, they would be reasonable. She didn't know much about Namora. She was always at Namor's side. She had interacted with her in Talokan only briefly but never enough for her to form a true opinion. Whoever was on the other end, needed to be taken through Wakanda and be unnoticed. It was difficult to hide a woman like Namora. But Okoye had her covered in a robe made of the fabric donned by the border tribe. Her headdress was nowhere to be seen though.

"This is Namora," Okoye said, gesturing to the petite blue woman at the bedside. "She was on the other end."

Namora touched Namor's chest gripping the kimoyo beads in her hand and flinging it off his chest. She cursed at it in her language. "sojol"

"Don't," Shuri screamed and walked over to retrieve the beads. "This is helping me know what's going on with him." She took up the beads and began to lay out the towels on the bed next to him.

Namora leaned her head on his forehead and her hands caressed his cheek. "K'uk'ulkan can you hear me?"

"He can't hear you," Shuri said. "We need to act quickly," she said. "Help me take him to the water."

"I can't take him back to Talokan," Namora spat. "His people cannot see him like this."

"I mean to the bath. In the other room."

"Why?" Okoye asked. "Now is not the time for that."

Shuri released an exasperated sigh. "He needs to get hydration. He is severely dehydrated. His fever is dangerously high. I have prepared an ice bath. Help me lift him."

She made a movement to his feet and Namora frowned at her and pointed her to his shoulders instead. Shuri looked at her as she carefully took hold of his ankle, careful not to touch the part where his wings sprouted from the bone and lifted. Shuri lifted him by the shoulders. Even with her superhuman strength, she could tell he was heavier than he looked. But she carried him with ease and led the way to the bath chamber. "Okoye, please stand guard. I don't know what will happen once we submerge him. If there is a commotion, keep everyone at bay and make up an excuse."

Shuri walked into the bath, taking the steps carefully as she led his body into the pool. The coldness of the water sent a stabbing chill into her body and her trousers and shirt clung to her skin. The white cotton garments he wore became soaked immediately, turning the garment almost transparent. Every part of him was visible to the pair of them. If Namora noticed this, she did not comment and Shuri thought it best to ignore it too. Namora looked at him with a deep frown on her forehead. "My K'uk'ulkan, how did this happen?" she said.

Shuri knew it wasn't aimed at her but Namor was not in a condition to answer and the last thing she needed was for Namora to form her own conclusions. "I need you to know that I did not do this to him."

Namora's eyes tossed daggers at her. "He comes here and this happens," she grunted through her breathing device. "What else am I to conclude."

Shuri could feel her heart racing as she looked down at him. His body remained motionless as he floated in the water. She took the kimoyo beads and placed them on his wrist this time. "He came to me and asked… no demanded… I help him with a ritual. It's a ritual we do here in Wakanda."

Namora groaned and looked up to the sky. "Oh no, the plant." She shook her head. "And you let him do it." She looked up at her accusingly.

"I didn't have a choice, he insisted."

She shook her head and looked down at him. "Do you know what I did when he brought that plant to me and told me of your ritual…"

"He said you tried but it didn't work."

She laughed bitterly. "I gave what he thought he needed. The potion was nothing more than fruit dyes, designed to look like it came from the plant. He couldn't tell the difference because it came from me."

Shuri felt the bottom of her stomach drop out. "I did run some tests. I thought the worst that could happen was that it wouldn't work."

Namora came to Shuri's side and took hold of his head and slowly began to submerge it. "Did you know his mother was a scientist, an astronomer, and an inventor?" She said calmly, staring at him as his face submerged "She was a great mother to the people of Talokan. She made our transitions to life in the ocean as easy as possible. All while raising a god, and a king who took a very long time to learn the lessons she tried to teach. She was a great woman but she had a weakness, a love for the surface that made her so melancholy it became part of who she was. The smartest woman in all of Talokan, crippled by a love that could not be fulfilled."

"I didn't know the whole of it"

Shuri saw a pained smile through the water in her mask. "He tells me you're an inventor yourself. He says you're a great scientist to your people. He says you're the smartest among all women and men on the surface." She felt the back of her neck tingle. She never referred to herself as the smartest person on the surface. The bigger her world got the more she questioned how much she knew of it. Was it necessary for him to overvalue her importance just to justify the alliance? "For someone so smart I find you very stupid."

Shuri blinked. "I…."

"Why did you let him take it?" she grunted.

She was still taken aback by Namora's words and only managed to stammer in reply. "He..he… insisted."

"He often does," she said. "You have to bend him… so he sees it as you see it."

Shuri shook her head. "I don't have the power to do that," she said. "He insisted and I obliged."

Namora shook her head and looked away. "She grows more stupid every minute," she mumbled to herself.

Shuri hated the way the woman spoke to her. But mostly she was terrified that she would be blamed for his demise and what it would mean for Wakanda. "He said our alliance depended on him going through this ritual to see to his mother. He was doing it for your people… for our people."

She laughed bitterly. "I don't know what your afterlife is like here in Wakanda but for us when we die, we face many trials before we can join our ancestors…. Trials that can kill him like a normal man… not a god…because he is not a god, I see that now."

Shuri didn't know Namora well but even with her limited knowledge, she could tell she was sorely disappointed and almost disgusted by this fact. Instincts told her that it was a dangerous stance. "Why do you say that? He is a god, I tested it myself," she found herself lying to protect him.

Namora smiled sweetly. "Did he declare you a god? Do I stand in the presence of a goddess? Is that why you declare him a God too, to elevate your existence?" Namora touched the side of his submerged face once more. "Draw strength from the ocean K'uk'ulkan, you will need it."

"What happens if he dies in the underworld?" She knew the answer before the question left her lips but she needed confirmation. Science didn't speak of souls but she knew the power of the mind. If he believed he was dead then his body would likely react the same.

"He dies here too," she answered simply. "I pray for all of Wakanda that your champion is strong enough." Namora removed the mask from her face and the water drained out. She submerged her head and kissed him on his forehead, caressing it once again before she rose and released him into Shuri's arms.

Namora stepped out of the bath and turned back to Shuri. "The longer the throne sits empty the more tempted someone will be a take it. The next person to sit on it will not come here to talk Princess… I'll try to quiet the murmurs about his absence."

Shuri nodded in acknowledgment as she raised his head from underwater. She looked at Namora as she walked through the bath chamber with water dripping off her freely and disappearing beyond the door. Just as she expected, he was being truthful when he said he was the one keeping the alliance from falling apart. That much was clear. But he had seriously undersold how much opposition he seemed to face from his people. Namora, whom Shuri was convinced was one of his closest allies seemed to look at him with a new kind of disdain she didn't observe before. It felt dangerous. She didn't even think he was a god anymore. It was one thing for Shuri to know he was not a god but a whole other thing for his people to wake up to that reality. It would slowly wither away at the authority he had. More and more people would begin to question his divine right to rule. If he was replaced as the leader of Talokan, the alliance would certainly be dead and Wakanda would be their first target.

Shuri held on to him, like precious cargo, shivering in the cold water. "Wake up K'uk'ulkan," she said, calling him by his preferred name, hoping he would hear her somehow.

It was impossible to tell if he was breathing or not, but he must have been since his vital signs seemed to be improving. Her body still trembled from the coldness of the water but he didn't seem to react to it. He was as lifeless as a sack of kola nuts. He really did seem powerless. She began to wonder if she was right to inform anyone from Talokan of his condition. She initially thought Namora was the best person who could have received the call but as she looked at her interaction with him, she wondered if that was another mistake she made. There was certainly a love she had for him but that was supplanted by pity and a kind of disgust. Shuri remembered when her own brother lay dying. Even she couldn't stand to see him in that condition. Her mother only allowed his closest allies to look upon his sick emaciated body. She insisted that everyone else would only see his illness as an opportunity.

Namora said she would protect his throne while he was incapacitated, but Shuri wondered if she looked at him and only saw an opportunity for herself.

She was right to call her stupid. She had no business allowing him to take the heart-shaped herb if she was not sure of the consequences. Now, she was sure that he himself would not have taken it if he knew the consequences himself. The world could change in an instant. Fifty-five hours was entirely too much.

She lifted his wrist to look at his vitals again. They were completely normalized. She could just leave him in there for the duration of his journey but couldn't decide if it would be good for him or not. He chose to live outside of the water. That was where he built his home. There must have been a reason.

She decided not to wait for Okoye to return from escorting Namora out of Wakanda. She knew she had the strength to lift him herself. She scooped him up in her arms, amazing herself with the strength she now had. As she lifted him, his body flopped over in her arms, one hand going one way and legs hanging over like dead weight. It was not that she didn't feel the weight. It just felt like she was capable of carrying a lot more.

"Okay," she said to herself. "This should be interesting."

She climbed out of the tub and looked at the water as it ran off his body, only leaving damp fabric clinging to his skin. When she was satisfied that most of the water had dripped off them, she walked him back into the room and lay him back on the bed, where she had placed the towels.

"Griot," she said. "Activate Instrument Station 1," she instructed. Her bed chamber was fully integrated with her lab. Sometimes in the middle of the night, she would get inspiration and she would need to test a theory or write notes immediately. It was easier for her if everything was accessible from the bed chamber as well. She never used her instruments before but it was still available.

"Transporting Instrument Station 1."

At the base of her bed was a clear area where the floor was decorated with several clay-colored, hexagonal tiles on the floor. To the untrained eye, it was impossible to detect anything special about it. However, this area of her bedroom which spanned about 15 feet from the base of the bed to the window that overlooked the great lakes of the golden city, was designed by her to make her space as flexible as possible. She had access to most of the lab equipment and tools and any different type of furniture she could need. She designed it exactly to her liking, unlike at the palace where she was always limited by what was in keeping with tradition. Her mother even frowned upon the dark paneling on the walls she installed. She thought it looked too depressing. But her quarters in her lab were hers to do whatever she wanted.

She looked on as a section of the tiles receded to reveal a platform where programable nanoparticles of vibranium formed the console of basic tools that made up Instrument Station 1. All of her tools were made of vibranium so they were strong and could last for an eternity but they provided the same function as a normal tool.

She took up the scissors and walked over to the soaking man on her bed and began to cut the clothes off from his body. "No other way around it, sorry," she said as she cut away the trousers and tore the rest from under him.

She turned away immediately. "Griot," she said again. "Print Patient Dress Number 7 in a size ….umm…."

"I can print it specifically to match your patient's specification."

"Yes, do that." She looked as more panels moved out of the way and the Fine Matter Printer came into view.

"You will need to do a scan."

She rolled her eyes at herself for not considering it. She pulled out a single kimoyo bead from her wrist and let it hover towards Namor. It emitted a purple light stream of light as it scanned his completely nude body and presented the render to her. She sent it to the printer and placed the bead back on her wrist.

"Preparing garment…"

Shuri placed her hand on her hip and turned back to look at him just lying there, with nothing on. "If you come out of this alive, I will kill you." She approached him slowly, sat on the edge of the bed, took one of the towels at his side and began to dry the rest of his skin. She dried every part of him carefully and found herself praying that he didn't wake up for the first time since the entire ordeal started. The wings on his ankle were tricky. It reminded her of an injured baby bird that she found sitting on her balcony at the palace in the rain one night. The feathers didn't dry right away. It just stayed damp.

When she was satisfied that he was as dry as she could get him, she went back to the bath chamber and changed out of her own damp clothes and into her sleeping clothes as quickly as possible.

"Is it finished?" she asked.

"98% completion."

Clothes always took longer than she expected. She just wanted to get him dressed as quickly as possible.

"Now?" she asked again.

"Garment 100% complete. The weave will take 5 mins for the fabric bonds to hold."

She grunted. The last thing she wanted was for Okoye to walk in on this situation. She was not in the mood for one of the glares. "Are the trousers ready?"

"Yes," Griot said. "They finished seven mins ago."

Shuri dashed to the printer and snatched the first piece of fabric quickly. She walked over to him and studied him carefully. She didn't think about how she would do it. She didn't have a strategy, she just acted. She carefully raised his feet and tucked into the leg hole, careful not to disrupt the wings, and lifted his legs into the air to get the garment down to his waist. She tossed the towels from under his legs to the side and lay his leg back down on the bed gently. She went to his side and pulled the waist of the garment from under. "Damn it, Bast cannot be real," she remarked as she looked at his penis lift right up along with the waist of the pants. "Forgive me," she said as she shoved it back into the pants, facing downward, and then pulled the pants up all the way. "No, Bast must be real and she is punishing me for not believing. That must be it." She tied off the drawstring and stood up from the bed and placed her hand on her hip.

"Show me the vitals," she said.

The screen popped up from the beads on his wrist and displayed his information. His heart was not even elevated anymore. He seemed fully improved.

She took the simple grey tunic from the printing bed and began the work of placing it on his body. The garment she requested didn't have long sleeves like the previous one she cut off so she was able to place it on his body with more ease. She moved all the towels off the bed, huddled them together and carried them into the bath chamber.

When she came out of the bath chamber she heard a small knock at the door before Okoye passed through a tiny crevasse in the door. She shook her head. "When I was walking to the footpath by the river a little boy looked right at Namora and said 'Mama look, a blue lady'."

"Did she get a good look?"

She shook her head in relief. "No, she just tugged him along and told him to stop making up stories."

Shuri nodded.

Okoye stepped further into the room and looked at the instrument desk and the printer and then at Namor on the bed. "I thought you were keeping him in water…why is he in different clothes?" she asked immediately after. She exhaled and gave Shuri a disapproving look but she said nothing further. Even Okoye with her strong traditional beliefs knew it was necessary. "I'm glad I was not involved."

"Well at least he seems better," Shuri pointed out.

"He looks the same to me."

Shuri pulled up his vitals on a big display in front of her. "His vitals are much improved. See."

Okoye only nodded and walked around the room. "How long do you think you can keep him here? What did his general say?"

"Nothing helpful," Shuri replied simply.

"She seemed angry and I think I saw a tear on her face." Shuri didn't know what to make of that. Namora held him with affection but she never seemed on the verge of tears. "She only said to me that her cousin is stupid and you are stupid along with him." Okoye shook her head, her mind seeming to drift far away.

"She's, his cousin?"

Okoye nodded.

"How old is she?" she asked. She thought he was the only one in Talokan who could have a prolonged life. Were there others like him?

Okoye shrugged. "I don't know and I haven't given it a second thought. If I never have to see any of these people again I will be happy." She paced the room now, deep in thought and whispering to herself. "Tomorrow morning is the meeting of The Council of Elders. If he is still here, you need to inform them. These people are unpredictable. We need to be prepared for any eventuality."

Shuri could not move to reply. She could not see herself sitting along with the council to explain what the situation was. She would have to confess too much. She was not ready. If it was a simple matter of him demanding to go through the ritual then she could take that. She could take the shunning. What she feared most was that they would ask why, why he felt it was necessary, and why she agreed to it. She couldn't stand to see their faces when she told them that the peace, she procured was just a façade. There was no real peace between Talokan and Wakanda. It only existed because Namor willed it to and he himself knew it was under threat. It was not worth the lives lost. She could not bear to think of the disappointed look on their faces.

"The night is coming to an end Shuri and you have not slept in days. If the worst has passed, get some sleep. Tomorrow we will know our next course of action." Okoye touched her shoulders and offered her a comforting half-smile. "I know what I said before but no one will blame you." She patted her back and turned to walk to the door and pulled it closed behind her.

It was quiet now. Shuri stood at the base of the bed with only the sound of her own breathing and the quiet hum of technology to distract her from what she was about to face. She had given up the position of the sovereign ruler to M'baku in hopes that it would spare her the weight of responsibility that ruling called for. She never wanted to make an impossible decision like she was forced to that day on the beach, if her mother didn't come to her, she would have made a decision that led to the ruin of her people. She was not ready for that power. But Namor only managed to thrust her into that position through their alliance as an intermediary. Now she would be forced to give an account of another bad decision she had made. And though she was sure everyone had sympathy for the situation she found herself in, she was quite certain their sympathy and their patience would run out.

She felt emotionally drained and physically tired.

"Griot," she said in a low whisper. "Clear the instrument desk and the printer," she instructed. "I'll have the sofa for tonight. And find me a documentary on the Mayan afterlife and death."

The instruments and machine moved around, eventually sinking into the ground. The place was now occupied by a tan-colored velvet sofa that came up from the ground. A large display opened up and a few documentary options came on the screen that blocked the screened doors that lead to the balcony. Shuri slummed herself down on the sofa and wrapped her limbs around a large lumbar pillow. "Play the second," she said.

"Ancient Death Rituals, Episode 3: The Mayans."

-o-

At some point, Shuri began to question if she was in fact dreaming. She was led through a series of sunken caves, lined with skulls and half skeletons until she came upon six houses. Fearsome-looking shadowed figures sat in council and observed her as she went through the houses, one so dark she could not see her own hand one inch from her face and then the next so cold her joints stiffened and teeth rattled. All the while her observers stood and watched over her while laughing, their faces morphing from demons into the faces of the tribal leaders of Wakanda. The third test was a room filled with hungry jaguars, pacing and ready to pounce at her. She called on Bast to tame them but instead, they stalked her in the distance, ready to attack… and still, the elders laughed. They laughed with such delight like her suffering was akin to the sound of children playing.

This had to be a dream, she said. She was the black panther and Bast gave her dominion over panthers. She was sure it was a dream and if she opened her eyes she would be out.

Shuri opened her eyes.

The screen was still illuminated in front of her, paused on an image she didn't even remember seeing.

"Do you have food?"

Shuri bolted upright at the sound of the voice. "Lights Griot."

The room became showered in a bright white light that gave the room the appearance of daylight. She looked at the figure sitting on the other end of the sofa shielding his eyes from the aggressive lights.

Her heart was still pounding in her chest but the panic was replaced by a profound sense of relief.

"You're awake?" she said in a croaky whisper.

He turned his body to look at her and raised a brow. "Where is this place?"

She looked at him in amazement. He had been out for almost three full days, almost dying in the process and he woke up with an air of complete indifference to what she had been through.

"This isn't the palace," he observed. "But it's where you sleep, where are we?"

She shook her head.

"Do you have food," he added.

She wiped her eyes and sat up, placing her bare feet on the stone hexagons below her. "This is my bed chamber. I stay here when I am working in my lab and I don't want to be disturbed."

"We are still in the lab? How did it go?"

She laughed. "How did it go? I should ask you that. Do you have any idea how long you have been gone for?"

He tilted his head to the side as if trying to work out how long whatever he did might have taken. "A few hours…maybe."

"Days. It's been three days Namor."

His brows frowned in confusion. "How long was I in that room," he muttered to himself.

"What room?" she asked. But she could only imagine. She had seen the documentary and began to fall down a rabbit hole of what the afterlife must have been like for him. It would be complete torture.

"It doesn't matter. I knew there would be trials," he said wearily. "Do you have food?" he asked again.

"Griot, food."

"Should I design something for his diet based on his physiology?"

"Umm..sure," she said.

She bit her lower lip and looked at him. "You knew what you would face and you still wanted to go through with it?"

"I had an idea," he said. "That was not my concern. I never doubted my ability to get past the trials.

"And the jaguars that want to eat you?"

"They were all black for me," he said pensively as he looked at the ground. "I wrestled them into submission with my bare hands," he boasted with a smirk.

"And the razors and blades?"

"Ah," he said and he held out his arms, looking for cuts on his arms that weren't there, and passed his hand on his back for good measure. "I did get cut many times. I doubted myself for a moment but the only challenge was to bare it." He looked at her with soft eyes that glistened with amusement. "You have been researching."

She moved back to the very edge of the sofa and pulled her legs up against her body. When Namora told her that their underworld was dangerous and that if he died there, it would mean death in this plane of existence, she thought there was no way he could have known the full of it. He wanted it too badly. He must have thought that he would get the peaceful ancestral plane of the Wakandans because he was in Wakanda. The fact that he knew what he would face and went willingly terrified her. How did he seem so eager to face a river filled with scorpions and another filled with blood, only to lead to various houses of nightmares designed to torture and humiliate you? There was one house where he would be made to sit upon a scoring hot bench and endure it until he died or proved himself worthy to move on. She felt like he was more dangerous than he had ever been.

"Why did you want to go so badly?" she asked him.

He laughed to himself and looked down at the wings on his ankles. "You've touched my wings?" he asked casually.

"No," she said quickly. The lie came out without her even thinking about it.

He raised a brow at her.

"Well yes," she confessed. "You have no idea what I have been dealing with while you were on your suicide mission."

"If I didn't think I could do it, I would not have gone?"

"Why did you go?" she asked him again. What could be so important that he would put himself through that?

At that moment the stone floor moved a couple of times and a well-prepared tray of fruits and steamed vegetables appeared next to a tray of lightly seared fish and sticky rice balls.

He ate greedily, picking at the fish and the rice and fish, stuffing his mouth again before he could finish chewing.

"Slow down," Shuri complained. "You're going to choke."

He took a deep breath and chewed more slowly and made a gesture to her for water.

"Water, Griot," she said and a pitcher and glass appeared soon after.

He swallowed the food in his mouth and poured himself a glass of water. "How are you making this happen?" he asked, his brows frowning. "Where is this man servant you call Griot located? You call out to him all the time."

He never made her laugh before but she managed to chuckle at this. "He's not a person, he's a computer."

"How does a computer talk and listen so seamlessly? And why is it trying to know me?" His suspicion of the technology reminded her of her mother.

She sighed. "I designed him to. It's hard to explain."

He nodded and continued to eat. She was not unaware that he had ignored her question twice now. "Do you know your cousin was here?"

His interest was piqued. "What did she say?"

"She said you were stupid and I was even more stupid for helping you." Shuri droned. "And she is convinced you're not a god, but you only think you are." She saw him inhale deeply but he continued to stuff his mouth with the fish and rice. "And the fact that you were probably within an inch of dying didn't help."

He nodded, coming to some conclusion that he was unwilling to share. "And what did you say?"

She thought of telling him something hurtful, something like she agreed with his cousin. But she couldn't muster it at the moment. She was drained and she wanted more than anything to know what it was that was so important that he would risk death for it. "I told her that you were doing it to secure the alliance between Talokan and Wakanda, that it was for your people. I don't think she was moved."

He nodded. "You did well," he said but his eyes avoided looking at her.

"Is that the truth?" she asked.

He nodded. "Mostly."

"Then what is it that you needed to know? The ancestors can offer advice and counsel but they are not all-knowing. My brother ignored what my father told him in the ancestral plane and I… I chose not to listen to who came to me, or else you wouldn't be here."

He took the glass of water and leaned back on the sofa. The trays of food were almost cleared. "My mother is right about all things," he said with a smirk.

Shuri rolled her eyes at him. She could imagine young Prince T'Challa saying something like that about his mother. Sometimes she believed Namor had a childlike view of things. He was basing his next move on whatever his mother told him. If she had known that was his plan, she would have indeed fought harder against it. "And what does she say?"

He took a sip of his water. "My mother never spoke to me in clear terms. She always told me complex things in a way I would understand. In stories. She used all the time while she could still guide me to tell me as many stories as she could. Stories that a young boy could understand."

"And now?"

He laughed. "It was still a story but I had a different understanding this time."

She felt like he was being intentionally vague. "You went through literal hell to hear a story."

He bit his lower lip. "Not just any story, Shuri. It was a story told to her by our Shaman. The one I told you about. He often got visions and these visions would always guide the people of Talokan."

"What did it say," she said, trying to keep her voice even. Were his ancestors against or in favor of the alliance?

He placed his glass of water back on the podium and leaned against the sofa again. "Seven years ago, something happened, something I cannot explain. But during that time, I could not be there for my people. I was not there. I didn't choose this. I just was not there and others were taken along with me. But those who remained survived and they found a new way to live. But then I came back and found someone else on my throne… it felt like an instant to me but everything changed and there was so much… doubt. For five hundred years people were convinced I held up the sky and when I was gone and it didn't come crashing down they wondered what else am I not capable of." He sighed. "I am under a lot of pressure Princess." He looked at her with desperate eyes. "Every decision I make is challenged…But the trouble is, I have already made up my mind. It will be peace with Wakanda. I needed to know if this decision is right or if I am on a path to my own destruction. Sometimes I think I am losing my ability to feel fulfilled by infinite service and maybe that has clouded my judgment these days. "

She could feel her own chest rise and fall with the anticipation of what he was about to say. "Is it the right decision?" she asked and he gave a melancholic smile in response before he nodded. She could feel her breathing getting steadier as if the air was returning to her lungs. "If it wasn't, would we still be having this conversation?"

"My mind was made up," he said almost inaudibly. "And that is the problem."

"Am I in this story? The one that your mother told you. Was I always meant to be the ruler of Wakanda."

"Well, it is a woman."

"Could have been my mother and you got the message too late," she dug.

He shook his head, with certainty "No, it's you. But I confess, it is late."

"And when will I hear this story?"

"You don't need to hear it," and he looked distant once again. "You will live it."

Her eyes were reduced to slits. "Well, at least I know I get to live. And sadly, since you insist I only live if you are around to facilitate it, then I guess that means you live too. I am tempted by the alternative."

He winced at her words and she felt an involuntary smile come to her face. She wished she had words that could cut so deep that they would manifest physically but she was never good with words. She always had a difficult time expressing things she felt in her heart. Feelings were always so abstract. She preferred the empirical nature of numbers. But she was glad that he felt those words. She was happy that he believed that she would consider dying if it meant he would be dead too.

He didn't bother to look at her, and she was thankful because the smile was impossible to hide. He only hunched forward, his elbows on both knees and looked down at the floor. She could tell he was thinking of something to say. Enough time had passed for the awkward silence to place too much weight on whatever it was he would say next.

"I think you have had many opportunities to make that happen Shuri. I have been here at your mercy for three days, as you said, and all you have done is change my clothes for some reason. At this point, I don't believe that my being alive makes you as sad as you say."

If she was any lighter in complexion her face would be red. But instead, every fine strand of hair on her body stood at attention. She felt a heat emanating from the back of her neck that made her feel like her body was about to float away and leave her behind.

It was at that moment he chose to look at her.

He was right, she did have a chance to end him if she wanted but instead, she chose to go to great lengths to protect him. She expected that there would be a glint of triumph in his eyes, a smirk at the victory but she saw none of that. He only looked at her with eyes that revealed the deepest sorrow.

"Why do you say things if you don't mean it? I have only ever been honest with you." He was looking at her with such an intense stare she felt like he would extract the truth from her by sheer will.

"Who's to say I don't mean it? Sometimes I do want you dead and other times… I turn my brain back on."

"And when are those times?" he asked. "Do you want me dead now?"

"I'm considering it?" she grunted. He turned away from her gaze and turned his eyes downcast again. "Why are you acting like this is a surprise to you? You know what you did. You have never even made an effort to apologize."

"And I am not going to?" he said quickly, glancing at her.

"Why?" she asked raising her voice. "You don't think I am owed it; you don't think I deserve it?"

He shook his head. "Shuri, I cannot say that I regret what was done in service of my people." He exhaled deeply. "I cannot say it to make my life easier. I cannot put myself before my people."

"And what about me?"

He turned to her, pleading with his eyes. "It will be a disgrace for me to say it."

"Maybe you should be disgraced," she said.

He sighed deeply and passed his hand over his face and began to say something in his tongue she could not understand. "yáantiken yáantiken yáantiken…"

"You took my mother from me when you knew I had no one else…after I…"

"If I apologize, will it help you?" he said with his eyes closed.

"It might," she said.

"You need to be sure Shuri," he said with his eyes still closed. "If you think it will help you and help me gain your trust then I will do it."

"I am sure," she said.

He opened his eyes. "I am sorry... I regret it, I regret it, I regret it. I regretted it the moment I heard you cry; I regret it now as I sit here knowing what I know. I regret it. I always have. I am sorry it ever happened."

She sat still and let the words wash over her. She closed her eyes. She had wanted to hear it for so long. She always believed that it was the thing she was waiting on that would connect her heart and mind. But she didn't feel the peace she expected. Instead, she grew angrier. She laughed at herself.

"Why are you laughing?" he asked in confusion.

She laughed sardonically and threw her head back. "You killed mother for your people you say, the same people you betray in an instant, just for an opportunity to assuage your own guilt. Was it really worth it Namor? Is this the kind of loyalty I can expect from this alliance?"

She laughed and laughed, so much until her stomach hurt. She laughed until she found she was not laughing at all and they were in fact sobs.

-o-o-

Part III: The Promise

(K'UK'ULKAN)

FLASHBACK

The woman stood before him with outstretched arms, the warm bronze complexion of her skin glistened in the sunlight, as a clear blue sky surrounded her. A bright smile illuminated her face.

"Chan," she said, the words wafting through the air. His hands reached out to meet hers but instead small childlike hands came into view.

"Na'" he breathed, unable to fully understand what he was seeing.

"You have come to see me Chan. But you're too early."

He shook his head, took her hand and sat up. His body was transported back more than 400 years to a stage he had long forgotten. His mother was still a young woman, not as he last saw her. Her skin felt firm to the touch and when she smiled even the side of her eyes didn't crease. He remembered the deep creases from her older years. He had the appearance of a normal boy no more than five years old. "Am I dead?"

She shook her head and touched his face in wonder and loving eyes. "No," she laughed. "You have come to me for a story," she explained. "You were always very greedy for stories."

He had only been there a few moments but he could feel his mind being pulled further away from the life he left behind. Maybe his mind was as infantile as he presented in the afterlife. Even the sun, racing across the sky was pulling his attention away. He looked back to his mother and urged her; "tell me the one about the Princess."

They sat in an open clearing at the base of a hill with low, fine, grass. The sun was the only thing in the sky and she shielded her eyes from the glare as she looked toward it. "We only have a little time," she lamented and took hold of his head and rested it in her lap so could soothe him as he listened.

"Please, I need to know," he looked up at her with innocent and hungry eyes.

She nodded. "Okay, my Chan… Listen carefully.

She spoke and her voice sounded like a song he only just remembered. "In the times that are gone and the times that are yet to come, there lived a king and he ruled over all the seas and every creature that lived in it. The King was loved by all his people and all the creatures and even the tides bent to his command. But one day he left the ocean in hopes to see the lands that surrounded his kingdom, so the people of the land could observe his might and hail his wisdom and love him as the people of the sea did. But instead, he beheld a princess of the land who was just as powerful and wise and loved by her people. Seeing his equal for the first time he fell deeply in love with the Land Princess. He vowed to share his kingdom with her. But the Princess could not live in the water and could not share in the delights of the seas. The King grew sad and spent many days longing for the Princess, but she was far away on land. So, he built a home for them, where the land meets the sea, so they might live together.

But the people grew restless. The land people cried. "Where is our Princess, we have no princess to admire. And sea people cried; "where is our king, he spends all his time so far from the seas." But the gods, so moved by their love, blessed them with two special nene. One little baby girl who longed for the ocean and the other, a boy who would only play on land. And so, the people of the land had a new prince to admire and the people of the sea had a new princess to admire. The sea and land people became united under the twins and lived happily in a dynasty that lasted a very very long time."

"I am not wrong to love her then?" he asked in his small voice.

She smiled and looked up at the sun again. The sun had almost made its way across the sky and was about to set behind a blazing horizon. "I think we are out of time, Little One."

END FLASHBACK

-o-

When he opened his eyes a view of a ceiling slowly came into focus. The ceiling was made of floating, hexagonal tiles that seemed to be made of a dark metal material. It reminded him of the ceiling in the lab but in total contrast to the pure white panels.

He was no longer in the lab.

He sat upright and did a quick scan of his surroundings. He was in a bed in a large room that was almost completely dark except for one of those computer screens Shuri liked to use. His adjusting eyes could make out pieces of furniture that a typical surface dweller would have in their sleeping quarters.

"Shuri?" he said into the air like he had seen her done to her disembodied servant, but no reply came.

He swung his legs over the edge of the bed and stood up off it carefully. Beds always felt odd to him, somehow less sturdy than the swaying hammock he preferred. As he stood up, he looked down at himself. His arms were bare and the color of the garments had changed. They now seemed to be a grey color.

He walked around the bed, to the base and the piece of furniture that was facing the screen.

There she was.

Long slender legs, the color of fermented cocoa wrapped around a strange-looking pillow and a mess of tight curls framed her face.

He was being hunted by invading thoughts that resembled that very image before him. Futilely, he tried to expel it from his mind but the more he tried the more he thought about how much effort it took and why he couldn't rid himself of it. He yearned for it, just for the feeling of her being there… and nothing else.

To him, she was a promise that was never fulfilled. All the promise of the abundance of beauty and splendor of the surface world his mother spoke of but he never saw, manifested in her. There had been spans of time he spent in the surface world over the years. He was well acquainted with these people now. There was only senseless cruelty, greed, and destruction. There was nothing redeeming about them. Even their own god regretted what he created and predicted their destruction. He could never love the place as his mother did.

But Shuri was different. She was blessed with gifts from her ancestors, gifts that made her goddess among men. But she never used these gifts to destroy. She only sought to protect. Every moment he spent with her; she was living in service of others. His warriors told him how she stood between their blades and a girl she had just met. And when she came to him it was to protect that stranger and protect her people. It was something he understood, to live his life in true service to others. A burden he had been carrying on his own all his life, and a responsibility no one else truly understood. He wished he had fully understood what he experiencing. If he had, things might have gone differently. It was the ultimate trick by the gods that he would only see the kindred spirit in her as he was about to die.

He should have chosen death. His people would have expected him to choose death. But he couldn't.

When she stood over him, spear in hand, and he saw his mother's spirit shine through her, he knew he could not choose death. A new sort of life was only just beginning.

Thereafter his thoughts became singular and focused. She was a memory and a premonition all in one. He revisited their conversations in his mind as he went about his day and at night he dreamt of his mother speaking of a future he had long forgotten.

His mother had been gone almost four hundred years. All the stories she told him had slowly begun to ebb away like a receding tide from his mind. However, on that day on the beach, when he first saw the vision of his mother, that one story seemed to resurface in a tsunami of emotions.

It was vague and he couldn't remember the details but he knew it was about a king who ruled over the sea and a princess from the surface world. He needed to know what it entailed. But every dream he had seemed to be limited to the details he could remember.

He became fixated on it, to the point where he could not focus on his duties as king. It didn't go unnoticed. Namora told him to his face that he was becoming useless, others said it as his back was turned. He could not carry on. He needed to speak to his mother. He needed access to his ancestors.

Shuri told him about her lost brother, the one who challenged the wisdom of the ancestors and chose to reveal the secrets of Wakanda to the world. He had been to the ancestral plane, convened with his father, and rejected his knowledge in the hope of charting a new path. She only mentioned it in passing but he knew it was done through the use of a special plant, a plant, not unlike the plant that saved Talokan, that she was trying to recreate. He knew she had been successful when they fought and she possessed strength that matched his own. He could immediately guess how she was able to do it when she showed an extraordinary ability to heal like the Talokanil who had all ingested the potion.

It took him a week to procure the plant. He would watch her form the water and listen to her as she sat in silence, sometimes she would call on her brother to show himself, sometimes her father, but on most days, she called to her mother. And when she was finished, she would put out the fire at the lake site and make her trek back to the city on foot. That was her nightly ritual. Until one night when she ventured off in another direction. He could hear her footsteps moving in a different path, with less foliage. When he emerged from the water, he hovered above to see her snaking a path through a grave site and hundreds of glowing orbs surrounding her.

He left her in peace that night. He only watched from a distance as she stood in the clearing and kissed her hand and laid it upon the dirt where her family rested, reminding him of the times he would visit the land where his mother was buried. It was never a peaceful event, every visit, from the first time he buried her to the last time he stood on that earth, was always rife with turmoil. Shuri had peace he would never know and he was glad for that. He would not disrupt her peace. He waited till she left and made her way back to the city to descend from the sky and pluck one of the herbs from the site.

He only told Namora of his plans since she was the most desperate to rid him of the distraction and she agreed to help him. There was a lot of reluctance on her part and they argued at length about if it was worth the risk. But in the end, she relented and used the plant to make a potion. It tasted far more pleasant than he expected. He laid back, closed his eyes, and waited for it to take effect.

Nothing happened.

An hour passed and nothing happened. He went to sleep and woke up the next day and still nothing happened.

He knew it was possible and he knew Shuri had access to the ancestral plane. He had a brief moment when he saw it as he faced death. She was the source of this access and he believed the only way he could get there was through her. He would need to ask her for help. As much as he longed to have her with him, he didn't dare impose himself on her. His very presence was painful to her. She recoiled every time she saw him and whatever interaction they had was becoming painful for him too.

But he knew it had to be done. The question needed to be answered. He needed to know what all of it meant. What it meant to Talokan and Wakanda and what it meant for both of them. He needed to know if what he was feeling stood in opposition to his duty to his people or if it was aligned.

When she came to her usual spot, he was there waiting to face her. He let her go through her ritual, listening to it, and saying the prayers she prayed along with her in his mind. And when she was finished, he revealed himself.

She recoiled from him as always.

He knew it would be a long time before that could change. She seemed to be filled with either anger or sorrow on most occasions. When she spoke to him, it was designed to cut him as much as possible without using an actual blade. She would cut and cut until she felt satisfied. Every interaction they had was defined by how much blood she could draw with her words.

He was not surprised that she mocked his apology even if she asked for it. She knew it would not help her. It would only give her an opportunity to wound him. And it was the worst wound to hear her laugh at his regret.

He sat with his back turned to her and listened to her laugh, trying to fight his own urges to walk back what he said. This felt worse than anything he faced in Xibalba. Even the searing heat that burnt his skin off his body and filled his nostrils with the scent of his own burning flesh was preferable to having his apology flung back in his face. To have her question his commitment to their alliance when he was willing to put it above all else. She laughed and laughed, but then he heard the laughs begin to morph into something else and guttural sobs began to fill the room.

She was crying.

She was screaming a deep cry as if overcome with emotion. It sounded as fresh as the day it happened. The only thing is this time he had to stay and face what he was responsible for.

He turned to face her so his leg was now on the sofa next to hers, touching hers ever so slightly. Her hands covered her face as she sobbed. Her shoulders raised and fell and hiccups escaped her lips. He felt a heaviness in the bottom of his throat that he could not explain. His people had mastered the art of stoicism in the face of adversity. A death should end in a kiss and a burial worthy of the loss. If retribution was needed then it came surely and swiftly. The way she mourned was unlike anything he had experienced. The sounds of her tears were almost unbearable to hear and made even worse because he had been the cause.

"If it's not an apology you want, tell me what is it you do want so you won't feel this," he said he whispered.

She wiped her tears and they were immediately replaced by a fresh stream that flowed freely like the ocean was their source. "So, I won't feel this?" she asked in a shaky voice.

"Or make feeling it easier?" he offered.

She shook her head. "Do you know why I can't kill you even though I feel like you deserve it?" She bit her lip. "It won't bring her back." she breathed. "If you die, it won't bring her back. So, it won't be worth it because all I want is my mother back." She inhaled a deep breath and exhaled. "You asked what you can do so I won't feel this…" she tapped over her heart for emphasis. "Nothing. There is nothing you can do."

His eyes turned downward.

"I need my mother," she confessed with raised shoulders and wiped her tears. "I need her here for me when I am sad, I need her to share my smiles when I am happy. I need her to be my strongest advocate in front of others, even when I am wrong, and then counsel me in private. I need her to hold me at night when my heart breaks, I need her to stand by my side on my wedding day… I need her to protect me from things I don't even know I need protection from, I need her wisdom…. I need…" she stopped and exhaled once again and her eyes glared at him. "Can you solve this problem; can you fill that void? No, you can't. So don't ever ask me what you can do. There is nothing you can do."

They sat in contemplative silence, only the sound of her uneven breathing could be heard. He couldn't even move out of fear of bringing attention to the part of him that was touching her. His instincts were to soothe her the way his mother did but he knew that was impossible. He didn't earn the right to touch her, even if it was to offer comfort.

-o-

(SHURI)

She wished he never apologized and she wished that he wasn't trying so hard to gain her forgiveness. She never offered it, and he had no right to try to extract it from her.

"I can never restore what I have taken from you," he said softly. "But I can make myself useful to you. So at least me being here doesn't hurt as much."

She wiped her tears and for the first time, she spoke clearly. "Useful you say, so far you have been a great inconvenience. I haven't had a good rest in days because of you."

He smiled sadly. "Then, I'll take my leave," he said and stood up and as he did, she realized there was a part of him that was touching her all that time. She felt annoyed that she didn't get the opportunity to shun it.

"Please do," she replied and got up from the sofa and walked over to the standing closet in the corner of the room, near the head of the bed. She opened a drawer, retrieved a bundle of items and handed it to him. "Change in there," she said pointing at her bathroom.

He raised a brow in question and she returned it and pointed at the door to the bathroom. She knew he had guessed what she had done while he was out but he must have known those were different circumstances. She hoped he would never reference it again.

He nodded, but she could see a smirk in the corner of his lips and he turned to walk away.

She walked back to the sofa and slumped her body down. Her head was throbbing. She hated that she cried in front of him. It was unbecoming. She was meant to put on a strong front and represent her nation with pride and dignity. Being a sobbing mess was not included in her duties. Okoye would be disappointed if she ever heard of it.

A couple of minutes later he returned in the variation of the green trousers she was used to seeing him in. His neck contained a couple of strings of pearls and gold but the more elaborate neckpiece was in his hand. He needed her help to remove it when they first went to the lab so she was sure he would need her help to get it on as well. He walked around the sofa and handed the heavy piece of gold to her, sat right beside her and turned his back to her

"Do you always need help dressing?" He was so comfortable in silence. She wanted to disrupt it.

"Only when I'm coming to see you," he quipped. "I need to make a strong impression or you might not take me seriously."

She couldn't help herself, she laughed but she quickly replaced it with a weary sigh as she secured the clasps that held both ends together. "Speaking of taking people seriously… don't tell anyone I cried in front of you. It's the least you can do."

He was silent again but his hand reached out and touched hers which was still at the back of his neck for a brief moment, sending a shocking sensation through her. It was only a brief moment but her hands quickly retreated to her side. His hands reached for a string of pearls, raised it over his head and turned around to face her. He held it in his hand and turned pearls to the light. "My people often give me gifts as a show of their love and in return for my service. I once tamed a great shark that terrorized our waters for many months. I was given this as a tribute." He held it out to her so she could see it. Then his outstretched arms placed it over her head and he straightened it to the center of her collar bone, just above her heart. He leaned back and smiled.

"Why are you giving me this?" she asked quietly. He was so close to her that a whisper would be too loud. "If this is like the last time you gave me jewelry..."

He seemed happy to recall the memory. "The bracelet was to soften you, Princess, this is to toughen you." Her breath was held in her throat. "Now everyone in Talokan will see what a great warrior you are. You saved their king from dying in the underworld."

He stood up and looked down at her, her hands reached to clutch the pearls around her neck and she looked up at him. He removed the kimoyo beads from his wrist and held it out to her.

She shook her head. "Keep it."

"Why," he asked. "Aren't they your mother's?"

She nodded. "Yes, but holding on to them only makes me miserable. Maybe they will do the same for you." She sighed.

"Penance?" he asked.

She shrugged. "It will seem foreign for a while like it's meant for someone else. But eventually, it will come to know you. In the meantime, you can communicate with me through it. You've seen me do it."

He looked uneasy at the suggestion. "I prefer to talk in person."

She shook her head. "This is easier, less effort than swimming all this way."

"The effort is all mine and I am not complaining," he said firmly, handing it back to her.

She looked at it, shook her head, and looked up at him into his eyes. She thought about what Namora said about bending his will. Namora seemed to think she would be able to convince him of something he didn't want to do if he trusted her enough. "It's easier if something happens suddenly and you need our assistance."

"And if something happens here?" he asked cautiously.

"It's easier for me to let you know."

His eyes looked down at it and his large palms enclosed around it. "Okay," he said and placed it on his wrist.

-o-

(K'UK'ULKAN)

He walked over to the sliding door that opened as he approached and chilly night air came rushing through it. A hint of a violet sunrise could be seen on the horizon as he stepped out onto the balcony.

"I was thinking," Shuri called after him. "I looked into it, and I read that for your people kings that go to the afterlife are reborn as gods."

He looked at her and felt his heart racing in his chest. Something new was emerging in her. It wasn't just anger and sorrow, there was some joy there, just the tiniest bit. He knew what it looked like. He had seen it in her before. The night was very taxing for him in more ways than one but the toll was worth it. "You believe in gods now?"

She shook his head. "Not me, but I've solved another one of your problems."

He said a silent prayer to the gods in appreciation that he wouldn't have to choose. At that moment he knew for certain, even if the fates doomed him. He would still choose her.

He stepped off the balcony and floated off until he was safely over the water and plunged in, disappearing into the river.

A/N: Thank you for reading. You can let me know what you think about the story so far.