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misslittlemisfit · 1 year

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Summary:

Three different timelines. Three different stories.

No matter where and when they are, if Namor and Shuri are together, they are home.

Notes:

For @elsakey

Prompt: Any AU Whatsoever

Here are three. Enjoy!

Can also be read here

Waited

The night air was crisp as it blew through Shuri’s hair. The fire behind her began to dwindle as she stood at the edge of the river, watching its currents ebb and flow, crashing against her bare feet.

Shuri watched and waited.

In time, the fire burnt out, and its dim light ceased and the princess of Wakanda was now shrouded in darkness.

She watched and waited.

She remembered the last time he had made her wait on this very shore.

"Princess,” the king of Talokan had said as he emerged from the waves.

“You’re late” Shuri had noted. Arms crossed and eyebrow raised.

Namor stepped onto the shore. “Are you angry?”

Shuri narrowed her eyes. “I could be.”

He tilted her chin up with his finger and leaned forward, his lips millimeters away from touching hers.

“May I make it up to you, in yakunaj?”

His breath was warm, it brought a smile to her face.

“You can try.”

A strong current against her ankles brought Shuri back to the present.

Her eyes scanned the river, searching for any movement that could have caused the sudden increase of the water's current.

There was none.

The sound of splashing water and her nephew's laughter filled her mind.

Toussaint was swimming back toward the shore as fast as his arms and legs could propel him. He was nearing the dry land when a splash came from below him and the next thing the young child knew, he was no longer in the water but in the air, laying face down on the shoulder of a large, stoned-faced Talokan king.

“Aw, man!” Toussaint had said. “I was so close!”

“That you were, young one,” Namor had said. “Next time I will give you a forty-five-second head start instead of thirty.”

“Deal!”

Namor took the young prince to the shore and set him down on the sand near where his mother and aunt were waiting for them.

“Mama! Auntie Shuri! Did you see me?!” Toussaint said running up to them. “I almost made it to the shore before he could catch me!”

Toussaint and Nakia made their way up to the house while Shuri stayed behind.

“I didn’t know you were good with kids,” Shuri said.

“I have seen many generations of families grow up in my lifetime,” Namor said. “I learned a few things over the years.”

“Have you ever considered having kids?”

“Have you?”

“I asked you first, fish man.”

A half smile formed on Namor’s face. “All of the people of Talokan are like my children in a sense, however, I would be lying if I said I never wondered what it would be like to truly have one of my own.”

“Maybe one day,” Shuri said.

The Talokan king looked to the calm sea.

“Maybe.”

“Shuri?”

Shuri glanced back to find Nakia making her way over to her.

“Shuri please come inside,” Nakia said again. “The night air is dropping.”

“I will eventually,” Shuri said.

“He’s not coming,” Nakia said. “You know that.”

Shuri took a sharp intake of breath. “I know,”

She closed her eyes as she clutched the white garments in her hand a little tighter.

“Namor please…stay with me,”

The Black Panther held the man she called an ally, best friend, and love in her arms. His skin was bone dry, save for the blood that trickled down from the gaping wound in his chest.

“Namor, please don’t do this, you can’t do this.”

His breath was labored and shallow.

Her kimoyo beads did little to help. As she had learned years before, sonic rounds were lethal to his people.

“Please…” Shuri said as she cradled him in her arms. “Please don’t leave me.”

Namor reached up and cupped her face in his hand. His fingers were already growing cold.

“You…you are safe now…princess…”

His last words replayed in her mind over and over again. Her hands tugged at her funeral garb so tightly it began to tear at the seams.

She had come out here to burn them, to mark the end of her mourning period, just as she did for her brother all those years ago.

But instead, she stood at the shore, watching the waves as she always did when she waited for him, hoping she’d see the waters stir, and hear his voice one more time.

“Princess”

It was a dream she knew wouldn’t come true.

Yet she waited for it even still.

Unbearable

“Think fast!”

Namor looked up from his mural just in time for the quill flying at him to wack him in the nose. He huffed in surprise.

“Tsk Tsk Tsk,” Shuri said grabbing another quill and tossing it his way. “Gotta be quicker than that.”

Namor caught the quill in mid-air but did not realize the jade bead flying toward his forehead close behind until it was too late. It boinked him before falling to the ground.

“Princess, please stop,” Namor said. “I am trying to focus.”

Shuri tilted her head and raised an eyebrow. “Make me.”

She grabbed a paint-covered paintbrush from Namor’s pallet and was just about to throw it when Namor went over and grabbed her wrist mid-toss.

The two royals stared at each other silently for several moments, words lost as they let time pass by.

Eventually, Shuri moved her trapped wrist and used the brush in her hand to draw a thick line of paint down his cheek.

“Juro tumen Chaak ti', Udaku!” Namor shouted as he released her and vigorously rubbed the paint from his face. “You are truly unbearable sometimes.”

“Oh I know,” she said, laughing. She grabbed the rag on the table, took hold of his chin and wiped the paint mark from his face. “But you know you love it. Even if you’ll never admit it.”

She gave him a proud smile and then headed toward another one of his murals on the opposite side of his chambers. Namor slowly rubbed his chin where her hand once was.

“You know you love it” her previous words rang in his mind.

The smallest of smiles formed on his face as he shook his head. “Indeed…” he said so only he could hear. “Indeed, I do.”

Translation: I swear to Chaak.

Safe

Shuri Udaku sat on the top of the roof of her apartment complex north of downtown with a sketchbook in hand. When she was little, she and T’Challa would lie on the roof of their childhood home to look up at the night sky and see how many stars they could count.

Now even as an adult with a full-time job living across the world from her brother and the rest of her family, Shuri still goes up to the roof of her current dwelling at least once a week in hopes of spotting a star or two despite the light pollution of the city.

The first few weeks after moving in, it was just her on the rooftop, and she liked it that way. No one to bother or judge her for staying up there for hours. Then one day, when she made her way onto the roof, to her surprise there was someone already there. A man with tan skin, dark hair, and darker eyes.

When she approached, she recognized him as her neighbor from a few doors down. Rumor around the complex had it that he was a war veteran, the first man to be ranked a ‘Five Star General’ since 1950, and the youngest to boot. Rumor had also said that his time in the war left him calloused, cold, and untrusting of anyone.

Shuri hadn’t yet made his acquaintance at that time and truly considered for a split second to turn around and leave, but she didn’t want rumors to dictate her own opinion of someone.

And she was glad she didn’t, because now, six months later, she couldn’t imagine her life without him. He was her best friend, and so much more.

“Are you cold, princess?” Namor said as he lay on the roof beside her.

Shuri smiled at the nickname. Namor said he truly believed in another life that was what she was.

She was reluctant to believe him, one because the idea of alternate universes was so far-fetched with no way for science to back it up in Shuri’s mind. But also because even if she was something other than a scientist in another life, there’s no way it could have been a princess. She was far too outspoken and defiant for such a role, she was nothing like the dainty, soft-spoken princesses she grew up watching. But she secretly loved the nickname nonetheless.

“I’m alright,” Shuri said. “It’s not that windy tonight, I’ll be fine.”

As Shuri continued her sketch, Namor pushed himself into a sitting position, took off his jacket, and draped it over her shoulders.

He looked down at her work as he did so.

“What type of plant is that?” Namor asked. “I’ve never seen anything like it.”

“It is called a heart-shaped herb,” Shuri said. “It’s native only to my home country. Legend says consuming it will give you super strength, endurance, and durability, but only if you’re worthy.”

“And does it?”

“Pfft, No,” Shuri said. “Some people have sworn they’ve talked to their dead ancestors after consuming it though.”

Namor nodded. “My people have a legend similar.” He took the sketchbook and pen from Shuri’s hand and flipped to another page before beginning to sketch himself.

Shuri watched intently at every stroke Namor made on the page and the strokes quickly turned into an image of a large, petaled flower.

“This is the Brillar Ch'ooj Ja'as lool, the shining blue-petaled flower. Legend says there is a whole civilization of Mayans forced to live underwater after consuming a potion made from a version of this flower blessed by the god Chaak.”

“So like the legend of Atlantis,” Shuri said. “Is it true?”

“How should I know?” Namor said. “I’ve never been to the bottom of the ocean before.”

“You should have enlisted in the navy instead of the army so you could have found out.”

“I considered that at first.”

“Really?”

“Pfft, No,”

Shuri rolled her eyes and nudged his shoulder with hers. “Tease,” she said.

They sat in silence for a while after that, both staring up at the night sky.

“Thank you, Shuri,” Namor said, breaking the silence.

“For what?” Shuri asked.

He rested the side of his head against hers. “For reminding me what it’s like to feel safe again.”

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