#live from averno | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

wrenjacobswrites · 8 months

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Title: Averno

By: Me :)

Rating: Explicit

Fandom: Marvel/Black Panther: Wakanda Forever

Ship: Namor/Shuri

Summary: The internal validity (or weakness) of the plan to marry and breed with Namor would be if the God would even honor this agreement of not killing Riri if Shuri gave him what he wanted: her. Men have told bigger lies than this to get laid.

If he goes back on his word, I will kill him myself. A part of Shuri said. A part she barely recognized, a part that awakened in her after her brother died.

***

Persephone is having sex in hell.

Unlike the rest of us, she doesn't know

what winter is, only that

she is what causes it.

***

Author’s note: I decided to delete this from ao3 because I wasn’t happy with the way it was written. Also, because of my job I have no time to give it the love it deserves and whoever reads this deserves a better fanfic. I’ll leave this upon my tumblr for anyone who wants to read it. Thanks so much for the support, guys! It might reappear one day in better condition.

The dress was damp and heavy with humidity as it leaked down to her ankles. The material was thin, and the jades strung on the neckline was cold and clung to her skin. The cave housing Namor’s dwelling was dark and quiet, like the end of her brother’s funeral. If it wasn’t for the fact that she saw her new husband standing in the doorway with a smile on his face and his warriors surrounding him, she would’ve thought she was alone.

There was no moon underneath the sea, honey or otherwise. This next part was not meant to be sweet. This is a political marriage, meant to bond the kingdoms of Wakanda and Talokan. Namor had asked for her hand in exchange for the life of Riri. Shuri had agreed quickly and Namor’s face had lit up as if the sunshine fell upon it. Maybe this was his plan all along.

“You are like the sun,” Namor began.

“Hard to look at?” Shuri said. She tried to drown her nervousness in humor—a familiar situation. It instead formed a rock in the pit of her stomach. It was the type of wordplay that would earn her a soft chuckle from T’Challa. T’Challa would’ve searched the entire ocean for her. He wouldn’t approve of this, but he was not here. He was nowhere. He’s dead and he took the Black Panther with him.

“Radiant.” Namor continued as if she hadn’t spoken. “Come.” He held out his hand. Shuri took it, it was hot—if he were human, he’d be in the hospital. He had to be at least 115 degrees. He led her into the dwelling. He let her hand go before unraveling the cloth partition above the door until it fell down, covering the entrance, leaving Namora and Attuma outside.

The only light was a flickering fire making the room shadow wet. It was separated from her by a wooden table weighed down with fish, fruit, silver and glass bottles filled with liquids of mysterious origins, and a bar of dark chocolate.

Underneath her naked feet was a woven rug that wasn’t there before and to her left was a bed tucked in the corner that definitely wasn’t there before. It was covered with brown furs. Shuri stopped herself from gulping. It’s just sex, people do it all the time, even for fun. You haven’t. The judgmental voice in her head said. Shuri frowned as she walked to the fire and rested her hands above the flames. Her palms warmed, the clammy cold melting away. Finally, some warmth and light. Being underneath the world with Namor felt like living inside a sapphire.

The dress was damp and heavy with humidity as it leaked down to her ankles. The material was thin, and the jades strung on the neckline was cold and clung to her skin. The cave housing Namor’s dwelling was dark and quiet, like the end of her brother’s funeral. If it wasn’t for the fact that she saw her new husband standing in the doorway with a smile on his face and his warriors surrounding him, she would’ve thought she was alone.

There was no moon underneath the sea, honey or otherwise. This next part was not meant to be sweet. This is a political marriage, meant to bond the kingdoms of Wakanda and Talokan. Namor had asked for her hand in exchange for the life of Riri. Shuri had agreed quickly and Namor’s face had lit up as if the sunshine fell upon it. Maybe this was his plan all along.

“You are like the sun,” Namor began.

“Hard to look at?” Shuri said. She tried to drown her nervousness in humor—a familiar situation. It instead formed a rock in the pit of her stomach. It was the type of wordplay that would earn her a soft chuckle from T’Challa. T’Challa would’ve searched the entire ocean for her. He wouldn’t approve of this, but he was not here. He was nowhere. He’s dead and he took the Black Panther with him.

“Radiant.” Namor continued as if she hadn’t spoken. “Come.” He held out his hand. Shuri took it, it was hot—if he were human, he’d be in the hospital. He had to be at least 115 degrees. He led her into the dwelling. He let her hand go before unraveling the cloth partition above the door until it fell down, covering the entrance, leaving Namora and Attuma outside.

The only light was a flickering fire making the room shadow wet. It was separated from her by a wooden table weighed down with fish, fruit, silver and glass bottles filled with liquids of mysterious origins, and a bar of dark chocolate.

Underneath her naked feet was a woven rug that wasn’t there before and to her left was a bed tucked in the corner that definitely wasn’t there before. It was covered with brown furs. Shuri stopped herself from gulping. It’s just sex, people do it all the time, even for fun. You haven’t. The judgmental voice in her head said. Shuri frowned as she walked to the fire and rested her hands above the flames. Her palms warmed, the clammy cold melting away. Finally, some warmth and light. Being underneath the world with Namor felt like living inside a sapphire.

Namor went to her, his arm touching hers. The orange blaze of the fire sewn shards of ruby in his dark eyes. The right side of his face was covered in shadow as he smiled at her.

“I apologize for the temperature, my Queen.”

Shuri smiled. “Oh, I’ll be fine. I mean, what can you do? You’re only a God.”

This time Namor did chuckle. “Do you really think me a God?”

“No. There are no Gods.” Shuri said. If there were, they would’ve saved my brother who was just and good. He was Bast’s greatest warrior, and she let him die.

“Hm.” Namor said with a frown. Her stomach sank.

“But your people would die for you without hesitation, so you’re just as good as one.” Shuri rushed out before watching the floor like a wilting flower. Hopefully she wasn’t screwing up the marriage already. At least wait until Riri is safe. Jeez.

Namor turned to her. He pointed his index finger under her chin and guided it up until she watched him. She had never seen eyes so dark. They were like coal. “Never change your answer, yourself, for me. I married the princess of Wakanda, not a spineless jellyfish.”

“Even a jellyfish has her sting.” Shuri said before watching the fire again. Namor placed his large hand on her lower back, making her feel thin and breakable. He pulled her close, leaned in, his soft breath tickled her earlobe and made the hair on the back of her neck stand up. He smelled of wildflowers and honey. She turned her head toward him and moved her mouth toward his too quickly. Their teeth smacked together.

“Ah, shoot.” Shuri covered her mouth with her hand, trying to quell the dull, throbbing pain of the front of her teeth—they weren’t broken, and she wasn’t bleeding but still, ow. Namor looked completely unfazed.

“Did I hurt you?” He asked.

“Are you made of diamond? Jeez.”

Namor chuckled. “No, I am flesh. Though a sturdier kind.”

Shuri would love to see a piece of his DNA underneath a microscope, find out what makes him as strong and tough as a rhino. She pushed that thought down. What an odd thing to think on your wedding day.

“I see.” Shuri said. “Should we try again?”

“I would like that.” Namor cupped the side of her face with his soft hand, holding her in place as he dipped down for a kiss. His lips were soft as a rose petal. Her eyes fluttered closed. She pressed back tentatively, tangling her fingers in her dress just to hold onto something. Namor put his thumb under her bottom lip and pulled down slightly. She got the idea and opened her mouth and he drunk her in—he tasted like the sea—briny and salty, but it was as sweet as wine in her mouth. The kiss was mixed with the flavor of fruit seeds she couldn’t name that Namor fed her earlier.

She’d only ever been kissed once and it was through her breathing apparatus about an hour ago, during the wedding ceremony. Now it's all-consuming, like water. Her hands shook as he gripped the nape of her neck to keep their mouths together. He didn’t need to breathe but Shuri did, so he put one of her hands between them until it found his chest and pressed against it. He pulled back until his hot breath buzzed against her lips.

Shuri shivered. There was fluttering in her stomach. “What now?”

Namor’s hand cupped the front of her throat, and his fingers close around her neck, gently. It was as if he couldn’t stop touching her. His thumb tugged at the corner of her mouth, dipping in slightly. Shuri’s face was on fire, but she kept their gazes locked.

“We are to consummate our marriage.” Namor said as he nodded toward the bed in the corner of the room before watching her again. “And we cannot leave this room until we do.”

“O-oh.” Shuri said. She had ‘the talk’ with her mother when she first bled at age thirteen. The Queen wanted her to be in her thirties, married, and in love before she so much as even looked at a man in a sensual manner and the man had better have been an upstanding Wakandan, rich like the handsome grandson of the Merchant Tribe elder. What would mother think if she could see her now, married to what could’ve been Wakanda’s destruction? A man—a king, a God who coerced her into his bed under threat of the life of another if she refused him? Would the queen think it noble or foolish? Hopefully Shuri would get the chance to ask her.

“Just…”

“I don’t mean to rush you.” Namor said gently.

“I know.” Shuri said too quickly, her face heating. “King, I mean, K'uk’…Jeez, I am very sure I am butchering your title.”

“You may call me king.”

“And Namor?”

“If you find it easier to pronounce.”

“King, Namor, I’ve never…ahem. I’m a virgin.”

“Ah, I see.” Namor said. He looked a little too pleased. “I trust you’re familiar with the concept?”

Round pegs in circular holes—Shuri couldn’t help but to think but thank Bast it didn’t come out of her mouth. She’d never been into pornography, and she thought more about algorithms than boys but she’s a woman of science, she knows the mechanics of most things and how bodies fit together to form new bodies. It’s simple math, 1+1=2.

“I am and I am ready.” Shuri said with more confidence than she felt. She couldn’t deny that Namor is beautiful, sculpted from marble like Adonis drizzled in caramel. Tall and broad with eyes and hair as dark as the deep sea. His personality so far is loving, gentle. She could almost forget the circumstances—the fight—that preceded the marriage, the abduction to the underworld. The threat of the death of Riri if Shuri didn’t give him what he wanted. Shuri could pretend that this was all her choice and that she was in love. Namor made it easy.

Namor’s eyes were heavy lidded, and his lips were slightly apart. He looked as if he was enchanted by her. He smoothly went behind her. On the back of her dress was jade buttons leading down to the top of her bottom. Obviously, this was the only way of getting it off safely. Namor popped them open one by one until the dress slipped down to her elbows, baring her unsexy undershirt underneath it. She wore no bra because she didn’t need one. Her breasts were small—too small. She pulled off the sleeves until the dress pooled down to ankles, revealing her boy cut underwear. She turned to face Namor, and he pulled her into a kiss. She looped her arms around his neck and drew him close until there was no space between them. He placed his hands on her sides—the dusky strip of skin between her undershirt and underwear sticking to Namor’s warm stomach. He was so solid-strong. It felt like he could snap her in half without even trying. Hopefully he’ll keep that in mind when they…have intercourse. He lifted her up with his hands under her thighs and she crossed her ankles behind him. She tightened her arms around his neck, and she clung to him. He pressed his lips under her jaw, causing a tingle to run down her spine as he walked with her to the bed. He placed her on it with care before climbing over her—the bed complained under their weight.

She thought she would lose her virginity on holiday in New York City. There would be candles and mood music. There would be rose petals on the bed and chocolate covered strawberries. It would be after a fancy dinner and a night on the town. Her lover never had a specific gender, but she couldn’t imagine in a million years it would’ve been a God of a world below.

Namor’s skin was the color of a reddish gold sunset. Eyes and hair as dark as the depths. Tongue soft. He inches back and placed his big hand on her stomach. She took a shaky breath as he swept his thumb over the bumps of her ribs, he watched her like she was a work of art, like she left him speechless.

“My Queen.” He said lowly as he dipped down to press his lips against hers for a beat before pulling back. “The prophesies do not do you justice.”

“Prophesies?” Shuri asked as she wrapped her arms around his waist, pulling him down over her until there was no space between them.

“I was to be married to a daughter of earth and fire. She would be patient, selfless, beautiful…and unite the kingdoms of land and sea.”

“How do you know I’m her?”

“How could you not be? Eyes the color of coffee bean, skin brown silk, and a rage that could burn a third of the surface world’s trees and green grass. A hail of fire mixed with with blood.”

“From the Christian book of revelations. 8:7.” Shuri said.

“And unbelievably intelligent. I’ve waited centuries for you.” Namor said as he hooked his fingers in the hem of her underwear. She lifted her hips as he slid them down her legs. Her forehead was damp from sweat. No man had ever seen this much of her. She slipped off her undershirt and it pooled on to the floor. Her hand went up to cover her breasts, but Namor pinned her arms above her head with one of his hands gripping her wrists. “Every inch of you is perfection.”

“I-I bet you say that to every queen on your wedding night.” Shuri joked, flexing her wrists clutched in his fist. Namor must’ve taken what she said seriously.

“There have been no others.”

“So, you’re a 500-year-old virgin?”

Namor chuckled before brushing his lips against hers. “No. I know what I am doing.”

“That makes one of us.”

“Were you never curious?” Namor asked.

“I consider myself a girl—ahem, a woman of science. I know the ins and uh, outs,” Phrasing, boom! Shuri couldn’t stop herself from thinking. “But I’m not much of a porno person.”

“Porno?”

“Oh, of course you don’t know what that is.” Shuri could smack herself upside the head. “It’s…on the surface world some people are paid to, um, simulate breeding for others to…see.”

Namor’s eyebrows rose. Shuri’s face could’ve been on fire. This was so awkward. Bast.

“It’s a form of erotic..stimulation.” Shuri tried to explain away.

“I illustrate paintings.” Namor said as if he were trying to make her feel better. “For erotic stimulation.”

Shuri pressed her lips against his to bring his attention back to the subject at hand, instead of how hard she’s bombing. He let her wrist go and weighed her down, the vibranium covering him glittering in the fire. Namor pulled back and stood, carefully removing the jewelry across his neck and decorating his arms. He placed them on the nightstand. He then unhooked that WWE championship like metal belt before sliding those tiny green shorts down his strong legs. He unlatched his footwear.

Shuri had never seen a man naked outside of an artistic context. The reflection of the flames danced across the expanse of his wide chest, his stomach was taught, his…down there looked too big to fit inside her and was covered with black hair on the base. Now they’re both naked. Namor knelt between her legs and took her ankle in one of his hands to spread her open.

“Wait, what about protection?” Shuri asked.

“Protection?”

“I don’t think you have a disease that could be transmitted sexually, but I wonder about preventing pregnancy.”

“Preventing? My Queen, that is the entire point of us lying together.”

“Wait, what? Now?”

“Yes, now.” Namor said. “The daughter of earth and fire will bear the son of air and water a child that could walk between worlds.”

“A child? I’m only twenty.”

“You are of sexual maturity for a human.”

“I am but…I’m not sure I want to be a mother yet.”

“This was our agreement. You are my Queen. There are certain responsibilities that come with that title, certain sacrifices.”

“So, it has to be now?”

“According to the prophesies, you conceive on our wedding night.” Namor said. “I do not go against prophesies.”

“Then…”

“Then?” He said lowly, dangerously.

Shuri swallowed thickly. Just when she thought marrying Namor to save Riri couldn’t be any less of a plan, he wanted to get her pregnant! Could she call this whole thing off? He only agreed to spare the student if Shuri became his queen. This would be seen as a dealbreaker and then it’ll be all out war. He would kill Riri and probably her, dragging Wakanda into a conflict with the entire ocean. Bast! Okay, just because she’s getting pregnant doesn’t mean she has to stay pregnant—morning after pill and all that. She’ll give him what he wanted and figure a way out later.

“…Neither shall I.” Shuri finished as she spread her thighs. A smile rose on Namor’s face as he gently cupped his hands under her knees, holding her open as he slides in between her thighs. He lets one of her knees go before using his finger to slide down to her entrance. She kept her legs open as he dipped his finger inside her. She bit her lip against the slight burn. He used his thumb to rub against her clitoris. Her breathing picked up as the sensation of pleasure washed over her. Namor stuck his finger into the hilt and held it there, never letting up on rubbing her button. Her moans were breathy, and her toes curled. Her mouth dropped open as Namor watched her as if he were enchanted.

“The sounds you make…” Namor said, as soft as candlelight. “You are music, you are art, you are everything.”

Shuri wanted to cover her face—flattered, but embarrassed. She had no idea how to respond to any of that, but he stuck another finger in her and she cried out—her voice repeated through the quiet dwelling. Hopefully Riri couldn’t hear that. Shuri’s not sure the student would agree with this plan. The internal validity (or weakness) of the plan to marry and breed with Namor would be if the God would even honor this agreement of not killing Riri if Shuri gave him what he wanted: her. Men have told bigger lies than this to get laid.

If he goes back on his word, I will kill him myself. A part of Shuri said. A part she barely recognized, a part that awakened in her after her brother died.

Her eyes fluttered closed as Namor kept his index and middle finger deep inside her while rubbing clit. She tangled her fingers in the fur blanket under her while using her other hand to push at his stomach, not sure what she wanted. She bit her lip and rocked her hips against his fingers, urging him to move. He took his fingers away and tucked them in his mouth. Shuri shuddered, her…down there…felt too empty and wet. Her breathing was shallow and there was a slickness on her skin that wasn’t due to humidity. She didn’t need to lie back and think of Wakanda to get through procreating with Namor. She wanted this. She was ready.

She sat up and climbed into his lap, holding herself to him by wrapping her arms around his neck. He gasped—probably at her body heat and how close her entrance was to his dick. He steadied her with his arm around her waist, keeping her flush against him, her breasts against his chest. His chuckle was deep, and it vibrated through his body like a purr.

“Never in my centuries of living have I had a maiden not be intimidated by me.”

“If you want to be intimidating, you shouldn’t wear those tiny green shorts.”

Namor laughed lowly. “You surprise me, my Queen. The lack of deference…”

“Would you like me to use deference?” Shuri asked before stealing his answer by giving him a wet kiss. He shuddered against her before they pulled apart.

“You should. I am K'uk'ulkan.” Namor said.

Shuri pulled back an inch to look into his eyes. She needed to gauge how serious he was. If she was screwing this up somehow…He looked as if he were under her own personal spell. What he wanted was an equal, after being revered all his life. He didn’t want Shuri to be afraid to look him in the eyes or hold her tongue. He wanted a queen, not a concubine. She could be that for him.

“And I was the princess of the most powerful nation in the world.” Shuri said. “Now I am queen of another. Perhaps it is you who should use deference.”

Namor answered by pressing their lips together with the intensity of a punch—well, that’s not true. Her jaw would be broken because Namor seemed like he was molded from the same vibranium he usually wore on his chest. He picked her up like she weighed as much as a feather before taking her over to the wooden table in the middle of the room. He knocked the plates of grapes and fish to the ground. The wine bottle shattered into confetti as it soaked into the cracks in the floor like blood. Shuri inwardly groaned, she wanted some of that.

Namor laid her on the table, bending over to kiss her again. Shuri’s thighs bracketed his waist, as his dick rubbed against her entrance. He sighed into her mouth as he rocked against her, never fully getting inside her. Shuri burned down there—she needed him in, so she angled her hips down. Namor stood up from her and wrapped his strong hand against the front of her neck to keep her pinned to the table. He used his other hand to grab the base of his dick and press it into Shuri. Shuri groaned as he entered her, slowly pushing into until he couldn’t anymore.

Shuri squeaked as she grasped the side of the table. She clenched her eyes shut against the burn and unbearable pleasure of being full. He was deep inside her—she could almost feel it in her stomach. She clenched around him, trying to get use to his girth. She was sticky with sweat, her lips quivered.

Namor took deep, slow breaths—as if he were trying to contain himself. It was irritating how composed he was trying to be. Always dignified. What could she do to break that composure? Shuri laid still, waiting for the raw newness of being penetrated to fade. When she became slicker, she moved her hip down causing him to slide even deeper into her.

He gasped—the mask of calmness finally slipping. He gripped the end of the table, the sturdy wood crumbling in his hand like granola. That made Shuri freeze.

“Remember,” Shuri said breathlessly. “I am not made out of stone.”

Namor chuckled before pulling out of her an inch and pushing back in, fucking her slow. His quiet, quick breaths filled up the dwelling. She clenched her toes as he picked up the pace, but not the force.

Shuri mewled and moaned, unable to stop herself. Her mouth hung open as she shut her eyes. Every time he filled her, there was fireworks behind her eyelids. It was overwhelming, nothing like the touches she gave herself before getting bored and stopping. Her breath caught as surges of pleasure shot through her. Her thighs shook.

The coarseness of the wooden table under her chafed her back. The wooden legs bluntly scrubbed against the floor with each push of Namor’s hips. He was more forceful now, knocking groans out of her. He was eerily quiet as he placed his soft hand on her stomach.

Shuri bent up slightly to thread her fingers into his hair and pull him down on top of her. His rhythm fumbled as she kissed him like she wanted to devour him. He wrapped his arms around her and lifted her hips slightly to pound into her—finally losing that cool façade. Shuri held on to his shoulders, her fingers turning to claws as cried out every time she was filled. She came, her vision whiting out as she shook, the pleasure flooded over her as her voice went high. Namor stilled inside her, holding her close to himself.

Shuri’s breathing was labored as she went limp, staring up at Namor. The flinching fire made flecks of gold on his skin. His hair was mussed from her running her fingers through it. He was so strong on top of her. She felt so tiny in the wake of him. She tapped him with her foot to get him to move. He fucked into her forcefully, obviously not hard enough to hurt her, just enough for the undercurrent of burning to arise in her. He moved quickly, using her like a toy until he stilled, coming deep inside her. His grip on her hips felt hard enough to bruise as she bit her bottom lip.

They stay there catching their breaths. Namor stayed pinned inside her, probably trying to make sure of conception. Shuri couldn’t worry about that now. Would he honor their agreement now that they’ve slept together? Now that they’re married? Was Riri safe?

Namor pulled out of her, and Shuri felt slickness seep out. His come. Yuck.

Shuri sat up at the end of the table while Namor sat on the bed. In between her thighs hurt so she had trouble closing her legs. They watch each other like a showdown. The romance movies never portrayed after sex awkwardness. What does a princess…Queen…and a God talk about? He’d seen centuries worth of treasures, rises and falls of empires, entire histories play out over and over again, but if those things weren’t on the internet or in books, Shuri didn’t know them.

“So,” Shuri began as she picked at her nail beds with her thumb. The coolness washed over her, making her realize she was completely naked. “Have sex with a God. Check.”

“You are making a list?”

“A Beyoncé concert is next.”

“Beyoncé?”

“I have so much to teach you.” Shuri said.

“And I would love to learn.” Namor said. “Come to me. I would like to lie with you.”

“I must visit Riri first. I’ve been gone hours. I need to let her know you did not cook and eat me.”

Namor chuckled before speaking. “I expect you back after.”

“Okay.” Shuri said. “About Riri…”

“I will honor my promise. If you stay with me and Wakanda becomes an ally to Talokan, the scientist lives, and there will be peace. I’m sure you’ll both be very happy here.”

Shuri hadn’t told Riri Namor expected them to both live out the rest of their days in his underworld. That couldn’t happen but she’ll take what she could get right now. At least they’re safe.

There was still the matter of him wanting to wage war on the entire surface world, but Lemonade wasn’t recorded in a day. Ideas take time to seed and grow. She was confident she could convince Namor Wakanda and Talokan could come to a peaceful solution with America and the rest of the world.

Shuri gets dressed in her bridal gown and gives Namor a deep kiss. There was still that dull ache between her legs as she was led by her new lady in waiting back to where they kept Riri.

The Talokanil woman is sprawled out on the floor, clutching a hole in her abdomen. Her eyes are shiny with tears. She’s shaking as Nakia stood over her holding a weapon.

“No.” Shuri whispers and rushes over, bending down over the woman. She tried to save her, but the woman fell limp, her eyes rolled to the back of her head. The damage was done. Nakia tells Shuri they have to leave before reinforcements arrive.

“You don’t understand! This will mean war!” Shuri needed to find Namor, to apologize to-to explain the situation. She had never seen his wrath—his anger. He didn’t seem the type to rush to judgement. Though she only had three conversations and sex with him. He looked at her as if the sun rose in her eyes. He loved her. That had to mean something, right?

Nakia and Riri drag her away and they escape. While being wrapped in the warm embrace of her mother, she knows Namor is not far behind.

Wakanda was a golden nation, the fresh wind swept through the market bringing the smell of bread, fruits, flowers, and sweets into Shuri’s lab. It was nothing like being in the dark, heart shaped tomb of Namor where the only light was silk stuck in the canopy of a cave like trapped stars. Wakanda glowed in comparison, the sunshine stretching over the blades of grass, making the world surrounding the city shine like a field of crystals. She never appreciated her home until she’s been somewhere different for a while.

Shuri watched the city from the screens in her lab and couldn’t help but to see it drowned in water. Namor was coming. Her stomach cramped with nervousness. It had been about ten hours since she’d been rescued. She’d eaten, bathed, and tried to sleep but was not successful. She’d shooed away doctors and assured her mother three times that Namor had not harmed her. Shuri hadn’t told the queen that she married or slept with him. She might never.

“Griot?”

“Yes, princess?”

“I need a body scan.” Shuri said before she laid on her table like so many other of her experiments and inventions before her. She kept her arms pinned by her side as purple lights traveled from her shoes to her forehead. A silhouette of herself appeared on a screen. There was a red circle in her uterus. Oh.

“You are pregnant.”

“What is the accuracy?”

“98%.”

“Bast.” Shuri could always wait and take an over-the-counter pregnancy test, but they were so primitive. With that, it could take weeks to know for sure.

“Should I alert the queen?”

“I cannot express how much I do not want you to do that.”

“Yes, princess.”

Shuri sat on the side of the table and rubbed her temples. She was a 21st century woman and a woman of science. Whether she considered it a child at this stage was purely academic. Moral and religious arguments aside, she was not ready to be a mother. Especially with a man whose physiology, genetics, and temperament she could only guess. She also really, really didn’t want to tell her mother she slept with Namor, and that she enjoyed it.

Shuri could create something quick and painless to terminate the pregnancy with a snap of her fingers. No one had to know. She better get to it.

Shuri’s mouth went dry and sweat collected on her skin. Her hands shook. Namor told Shuri about his mother—how she became the hope of his people as they drowned themselves to escape their oppressors. Shuri was in the same position as her-to bear a leader to bridge worlds. They were hundreds of years apart and one only existed in memory, but Shuri felt her hand guiding her.

Namor scorned the surface world and wished to see it toil in a hail of fire but marrying Shuri symbolized unity, forgiveness. So did the child she carried. Shuri was Namor’s one anchor to a world outside of the sea. The sole reason he might reconsider war with the entire world. This child could strengthen her position with him. Convince him that good still exists outside of the ocean. There can be peace.

Bast. Was she keeping this fucking baby?

“Princess! Multiple breaches into the perimeters of Wakanda!”

The waters swelled and the Talokanil crawled out of it—splashed across the screens in her lab were flashes water exploding through buildings, Wakandans heading for higher ground. Her soldiers had been warned the city could be attacked so they were ready as they headed straight to the warriors of the deep. There was a flicker in the sky-Namor.

Shuri rushed to the throne room. It’s her best guess as to where Namor was headed. She closed the door on Okoye’s face and bolted it. The throne room’s door was pure vibranium, designed to keep out all enemies, including fellow Wakandans. Now she was alone, save her mother, who watched Shuri with wide eyes.

“Shuri? What are you doing?” Queen Ramonda asked.

“Mother, no matter what happens, do not attack Namor.” Shuri said. “You need to let me handle it.”

“Are you insane? I’m not letting him anywhere near you.” Queen Ramonda said.

“Listen to me! There has to be no more bloodshed. Keep the Dora Milaje out of the throne room. I need to speak with him alone.”

“I am not leaving you.” The Queen said. “That is out of the question.”

“Fine.” Shuri said. “But you have to trust me.”

The Queen pursed her lips. For once she kept her thoughts to herself. She must’ve seen the look on Shuri’s face.

The glass of the windows shattered, sending shimmering shards of gold flying everywhere. Namor, in all his furious glory stood on the windowsill. The white sun bloomed behind him like a halo, the vibranium across his chest glittering. His eyes were lifeless and dull like a shark’s. His fist was clenched around his spear as he came toward Shuri. Her mother started to go to her—obviously to protect her from Namor but stilled when Shuri held out her palm to her.

Namor grabbed the front of Shuri’s collar, lifted her and slammed her against the wall. She coughed out a breath. Queen Ramonda gasped.

“I should never have trusted you.” Namor told her. “You will come to Talokan and answer for your crime.”

“She will do no such thing!” Queen Ramonda yelled.

“Mother! Please!” Shuri didn’t want to get her involved. This was between her and Namor. Her husband.

While Shuri didn’t kill the Talokanil woman, a member of her nation did. Shuri’s duty as princess of Wakanda was to take responsibility for her people. Namor understood this as a king himself, so it must be why he wants her and not Nakia to answer for the killing. Not that Shuri would sell Nakia out anyway.

“Namor.” Shuri began slowly. “A member of my court came to save me from you. She didn’t know about the terms of our agreement.

“Agreement? What agreement?” The queen asked.

“Mother.” Shuri said firmly. Namor glanced over at Queen Ramonda before watching Shuri again.

“You didn’t even tell her.” Namor scoffed. “How much of it was real? Between you and I? What we shared?”

They had like…three conversations and Namor acted like they were divorcing after thirty years of marriage because of her infidelity. It would be funny if he didn’t look at her like he wanted to strangle the life out of her.

“It was all real.” Shuri said. “But my people needed me, and you cannot say that if you were in my shoes, your people wouldn’t have done the same thing.”

Namor took a breath. Shuri was getting through to him. He was turning out to be a soft touch with her.

“Tell your people to stop laying siege to Wakanda and we can talk about this.”

“Why should I trust you? After all you’ve done?” Namor asked.

“Because you love me.” Shuri said. Queen Ramonda mouth dropped open. Looks like she put two and two together.

“What did you do to her, you savage?!”

“Nothing she did not want me to, Queen Mother.” Namor said but that only served to make the queen angrier. She went over to yank Namor’s hand off of Shuri, but he didn’t budge.

“Mother! Stop it! I will explain it all. We can all stay calm and talk.” Shuri said. “Tell your people to stop.”

Namor took his hand off Shuri and she dropped to the floor. He flew out of the window. Queen Ramonda rushed to Shuri’s side.

“I’m fine.” Shuri said as she stood. “You must call off our soldiers.”

“Shuri—“

“Mother, please.”

The Queen took a deep breath before speaking into her communication device. With a few words the outside became silent. Shuri’s heart pounded. Her stomach twisted and Queen Ramonda wrapped her arms around Shuri as if to protect her.

Namor came back to the window, still frowning, covered in pearls of water. Guess that short trip did nothing to cool him off. He took a step toward Shuri, but Queen Ramonda stood in front of her. His frown deepened.

Shuri went around her mother to face Namor. He stared her down.

“If you desire it, I consider our agreement still valid.” Shuri said.

“What agreement?” Queen Ramonda asked firmly.

“She was queen of Talokan for a day.” Namor said. “Now she is criminal.”