Chapter 6
“Sorry, I know I said I’d be back by now, but it looks like the Elder council wants me to oversee everything alliance related. At best I think I’ll be back at the end of the month, but I don’t know.” Nakia’s face fell, but she nodded in understanding on the hologram. Shuri was in her lab, sitting by the windows overlooking the mag-trains and watching them run as she spoke.
“Take all the time you need up there, sister. This isn’t something to rush. The better things are set up now, the less of a problem they’ll be for us later.” Her voice was soothing and gentle, relaxing Shuri even across an ocean. Being so far away from her nephew and Nakia was taking its toll on the princess, and she could barely keep herself from calling every day to check up on them. The sound of a voice in her lab made Shuri’s head snap up and away from her kimoyo beads, her right hand hitting the command to hide the visual feed of the call on instinct.
One of the Dora assigned to her lab stood at the base of the stairs, her spear held firm at her side. “Your presence is requested in the communications lab, princess.” Without waiting for an answer, the warrior turned heel and walked out of the room.
“Didn’t you say you were just there?” came Nakia's voice from her wrist. She switched the visual feed back on and nodded grimly at the war dog in the hologram.
“I swear, they couldn’t wash their asses without some kind of constant guidance. They’ve called me in for everything from supposed malfunctions to the specifics of their grammar.” A tinkling laugh came from her sister and Shuri grinned, unable to stop herself at the infectious sound.
“Sounds about right for the science guild’s best and brightest. You’ve poached any of their actually competent officers by now for palace R&D.” She rolled her eyes at the teasing words and shifted her focus back to the tracks beneath her window.
“How is Toussaint? Did he ever decide on how to do his plant project?”
“Oh he sure did, with a little inspiration from the world’s most troublesome aunt.” At that admission, Shuri turned back to the image of Nakia, surprised.
“He achieved hydroponics at his age with the materials at your school? Without any help at all?” The mother nodded with a grimace.
“Spent about four days holed up in his room reading about it. He decided to try it with black beans, our bathtub, and some old canvas bags I used for groceries. Lo and behold, a week later there were bean sprouts in my tub.” Shuri laughed at the idea, feeling a well of pride for the young boy in Haiti. The words that came next though, stopped her pride in its tracks.
“Sometimes I swear he takes more after you than his own father.” Sadness welled up in her gut at the thought. He should be going to T’Challa for advice on this. He should be taking after his father. Blinking back the feelings tugging at her heart, she spoke.
“I hope for his sake that’s not true. Make sure he’s eating and sleeping when he gets like that. Bast knows I never do.” At that comment, Nakia’s eyes narrowed into a glare.
“Shuri, you just told me you’ve been working nonstop on deepwater suits for our soldiers. Do not tell me you’ve been neglecting food and sleep this whole time.” An annoyed flush flared on her face as she protested, but Nakia wasn’t having it. “You were bad enough about it before T’Challa and the Queen Mother. Please, sister, you must take care of yourself while you work. The projects will be finished in time, there is no need for such strains.”
The princess shook her head stubbornly. “That’s none of your business, Nakia. I’m an adult, I can take care of myself. I only meant that if Toussaint truly is taking after me, then someone will have to be his T’Challa.” The last few words got caught in her throat and came out hoarse. T’Challa. He always was there when I’d go into a hyperfocus spell. She turned away from her beads once more and stared out the window to compose herself.
“I will always be there for my son, Shuri. Do not mistake me as anything other than completely devoted to him. Adult or not, you are still my little sister. Just because T’Challa is no longer here to look after you doesn’t mean no one will. You do not have to do things alone just because he is gone.” The words tore at her heart and mind with the ferocity of a wild animal. It was all too much.
“I can’t talk about this. Nakia, please.” She was practically begging the other woman to drop the subject. A beat of silence followed her words.
“Whatever you want. But we are talking about this when you get back. I was foolish not to realize you’d throw yourself too far into your work once you were back home. Good luck with the arrangements. I will call again on Tuesday, and I expect you to pick up.” Pain forced her eyes closed and the furious anger that always seemed to be with her screamed to be released on the woman on her beads. Soft words snapped her out of her head.
“I love you, Shuri.”
Just like that, the anger disappeared, and she nearly sobbed as she responded. “Love you too. Stay safe.” Really, her words were more of a whispered prayer than a response, but the woman on the other end seemed to understand, because the beads on her wrist hummed in the indication of an empty line.
Her senses were ramping up by now, a sensation she’d unfortunately had to grow used to since the first time. She’d done some research into it, but an episode had yet to happen when she was actually in her lab. Thinking quickly, and before the onset of sensations overcame her, she commanded Griot to begin scanning and evaluating her condition with all tools available on this level.
The episodes seemed to be linked with strong emotion or potential danger, but some were also random, and it drove her mad that she couldn’t figure out the cause and squash it. Summoning the panther suit on all parts of her body save for her palms, she shifted so that she could place both her hands on the floor beneath her. The paneling was smooth and cool, a texture most similar to that of steel, but silkier. She focused all of her attention on the grains hidden in the bends of the metal and traced the patterns lightly with her fingertips.
The panther mask limited her vision to only what was in front of her, and she focused specifically on the details of her hands as they moved. Breathing deeply, she concentrated until the strength of the episode had dulled to a manageable amount.
“Griot, duration?” She called out softly in the large room. Her AI responded in an equally quiet voice, telling her it had only been fifteen minutes this time. At least they’re getting shorter. She stood up slowly, mindful of how quickly changing her point of view could worsen the episode. She walked over to the terminal on the far side of the room and began reviewing what data she’d managed to collect.
That’s weird. Her vitals all looked normal, her heart rate even lower than it usually was, and everything aside from her brain signals was reading out as it should. Except, a small notice at the bottom of the screen caught her eye. Magnesium, Iodine, and Phosphorus levels dangerously low? She pulled up her dietary record of the last few days and grimaced at the mostly empty spreadsheet of information that popped up. Maybe Nakia had a point. Despite the admittedly small amount of food consumed, there was no reason for three deficits in her body to be considered ‘dangerous’
“Princess.” Griot’s voice echoed louder in the aftereffects of her episode, but she ignored it. Flipping through screen after screen, she found records of T’Challa’s physiology and began to search for his most common nutrient and mineral deficits. Annoyingly, she found none. Her brother did have the habit of eating exactly what he needed in a day without fail. A habit he had unsuccessfully tried to pass on to her.
“Princess, if I may.” The AI’s voice sounded again.
“What, Griot? I am busy.” She really needed to program the ability to sense moods into him, that way he’d know when to shut up and let her focus.
“I have detected a difference you may be interested in evaluating.” That gave her pause. Sighing, she gestured for him to pull up whatever he’d found. She’d made him, after all, and he still was designed to work in tandem with her whenever she got sucked into her projects. A comparison chart of her physiology and T’Challa’s popped up in front of her. It appeared to show her brother’s consumption of calories, nutrients, and minerals over time as compared to her own.
Why was she burning through more minerals than him? By all accounts, she had re-created the heart-shaped herb in full. She had all of the usual traits bestowed onto the Black Panther. Is it because…? She glanced at her right wrist, which bore the bracelet gifted to her by Namor. She’d taken to wearing it daily as both a way to keep it safe and to show trust with Talokan. Its jade and white patterns stared back at her.
“Pull up any data on the bracelet and Namor.”
Several screens of information swarmed her vision, and she retracted the panther suit to be able to read it all. The lights burned her eyes a bit still, but she ignored the feeling. Disturbingly, she found that Namor’s body required higher levels of Phosphorus, Iodine, and Magnesium than her brother’s did. Shit. So there were side effects of re-creating the heart-shaped herb with the fibers of the blue flower. Groaning, she rubbed at the sides of her head, feeling a headache coming on.
She had to go investigate the garden she’d planted in the forest. If the scans showed too much deviation, she’d have to try again. If not, then she’d make a note for any future panthers to have altered diets to best suit the needs of the plant that gave them strength. Eyeing her lab for any useful items to bring, her gaze lingered on the prototypes on the table to her left. Communication beads meant for Namor laid next to emergency rebreathers disguised as jewelry and the new prototype panther habit. I should test the suit again to make sure it can handle being underwater for longer than a few hours. Maybe I should leave it submerged for the next few days?
Snapping out of her daze, she shook her head and gathered spare kimoyo beads and a bag to bring back samples. Thinking for a moment, she went ahead and put her beads on do not disturb. She trekked up the stairs and out of Mount Bashenga in the direction of the sacred forest. It’d be faster to fly, but she wanted the time to think and, more importantly, an excuse for why she wasn’t helping the communications center right now. Bast curse them all, how are they so incompetent? She’d made her own communicator of course, one that could oversee all incoming and outgoing messages just to keep an eye on things. Even though she only checked it occasionally, she understood everything that came through. Why is it so hard for them to just read and respond?
A light buzzing feeling filled her veins as she approached the sacred forest. Few knew of the location of the garden, but she knew her drones lingered in the trees in case of intruders. Finally coming upon the grove, she pulled out the beads in her pocket and buried them in the soil all around the herbs. Aiming her bracelet at one of the plants, she scanned the leaves and soil content at the same time. The results popped up instantly, and she sat down to examine them.
The buzzing intensified and she paused. Tilting her head, she focused on the feeling, wondering if it had something to do with being so close to the vibranium flora. It was like liquid anxiety in her blood, but soothing at the same time. Strange. She turned back to her work and compared her blood and the samples from the Talokanil bracelet with the herbs beside her. It seemed as though the herbs bore more resemblance to her brother’s results than her own. Glancing at the data gathered from the beads she’d placed in the ground, she determined that contact with vibranium-rich soil had stabilized the plants into their more natural state. Which means that I’m the odd one out, she thought glumly. That’s what she gets for ingesting an untested compound. At least her worries were calmed when she saw that future Panthers won’t have the same side effects she will.
“Griot, run a dietary plan to accommodate for mineral deficiencies in my blood.” She sighed and laid down on the ground. Scientifically speaking, she was likely more prone to overstimulation episodes if her dietary needs weren’t being met. Can I breathe underwater then? No, the high mineral consumption seemed to be the only thing about her body that was actually different from her brother’s. It’d be cool, though.
“Dietary analysis complete. Recommendation: Incorporating more fish and aquatic flora, such as seaweed, into your diet will most efficiently address your mineral deficiencies.”
You’ve got to be shitting me.
Namor, I’m going to kill you. Fish and seaweed, seriously? Groaning, she looked to the sky in annoyance. She could barely stand to eat the fish cooked up for yearly River Tribe ceremonies, and now she was expected to eat it all the time? The buzzing feeling in her body had grown more intense as the AI presented its wretched news. Now, it was like a hum in her muscles, ignorable, but present. Her head turned to stare at the garden. The leaves were soft and stiff when she grazed her fingers along them.
The ringing of her kimoyo beads startled her where she lay. Panicked, she swiped up to answer the call. If it went through my do not disturb, that means it’s…
M’Baku’s glaring face stared at her through the hologram. “You better have a good reason for not answering the demon’s calls. Now I have to deal with her.”
The panic dropped from her shoulders and she groaned. “M’Baku this line is for emergencies only. You scared the shit out of me!”
The King rolled his eyes with an impartial wave of his hand. “Yes, yes, I do not care. Come to the palace. The fish man is here.”
Her blood froze at his words. He’s here?
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She frantically ran a hand over her head, pacing in the transport as it flew to the docks of the palace. Okoye’s voice rang out from the front of the craft.
“If you had just picked up my calls, you wouldn’t be so unprepared right now.” A glare was pointed at her from the former general and she returned it in full.
“Well I’m sorry the department that cried wolf did so often enough for me to ignore their summons. And I told you I was doing very important work making sure the heart-shaped herbs were healthy, I wanted to stay focused. I wasn’t deliberately ignoring your calls.” The woman huffed where she sat, grumbling something about working with the meathead and Shuri rolled her eyes. They were approaching the palace now and it was as though her very bones were vibrating with nervous energy.
Docking the ship, Okoye stood and gripped her arm with more force than necessary. She steered them out of the craft at too fast a speed to be considered walking and Shuri wanted to smack her in retaliation.
“Will you calm down? It’s probably nothing, Okoye! He’s come here twice already, for Bast’s sake.” The bald woman stopped mid-stride, jerking the princess around as she did. Furious brown eyes stared into her own.
“He’s come here before?” She hissed the words like a snake, and Shuri swallowed the slight fear that filled her at the sound. Her brother was wise to always be wary of the woman in front of her.
“It’s fine, I swear, just setting up the alliance and things.” Okoye was glaring at her in full but seemed to drop it in favor of continuing her breakneck pace to the throne room.
“Did he bring warriors with him then, too?” Warriors? Suddenly, Okoye’s unease made more sense. Why would Namor bring warriors? Had the surface continued poking their nose where it didn’t belong?
Her questions were forced to a stop as the woman beside her came to a grinding halt outside the wooden doors of the throne room. Okoye fixed her collar and dusted her shoulders before practically pushing her through the doors as they opened.
She stumbled slightly as she entered possibly the tensest room she had ever set foot in. The Elders were gathered in their seats, and M’Baku seemed to be having a staring contest with Namor, who was standing calmly in front of her, his back to the doors. It looked like he had that Hammerhead soldier from the bridge along with two other Talokanil as an entourage with him.
M’Baku glanced in her direction. “Ah, so the princess finally arrives,” he drawled. Eyes turned to her in the silent room, and she swallowed her discomfort. The feeling in her body was now a screaming electricity that made her want to run, or fight, or do anything really that wasn’t standing at the center of so much attention.
The bronze back in front of her turned around and she was met with the curious gaze of a certain god-king looking over her. Fish and seaweed. Fighting the urge to grumble, she cleared her throat and pointedly ignored Namor in order to address M’Baku and the Elders.
“King. Elders. My apologies for being late, I was handling sensitive matters in the lab.” She did her best to keep any lingering irritation out of her voice. It seemed to work as they all greeted her with bows of their heads. All except M’Baku, of course, because the man just had to go and make things difficult.
“Yes, we are all so delighted you are here, princess. Now will you please tell the fish man to get out of my throne room. He’s dripping water everywhere.” Fucking hell- she closed her eyes briefly and cursed the gorilla to the ends of the earth. She immediately went into damage control mode.
“M’Baku, please shut up.” She looked over to where Namor and his people stood, and found them all, unsurprisingly, readying for a fight. Gods help me. Quickly as she dared, she walked forward to place herself between Namor and the rest of the room, looking him in the eyes as she approached. Despite M’Baku’s idiotic comment, his eyes hadn’t left her since she had entered. “Ignore him. He didn’t mean that. What are you here for, Namor?” On a whim, she decided to do the Talokan gesture of greeting as she came to a stop in front of him, and his people seemed to visibly settle as she did.
One of his eyebrows quirked, and a smug grin replaced the empty expression on his features. He returned her gesture with the crossed arms of Wakanda, and his people loosened their grip on their weapons further. “Princess. I was starting to wonder if you were even in the country. We did send word before we embarked here, after all.” His eyes seemed to sharpen as he spoke, and she cursed herself for not seeing this coming. He’s not the type to wait for permission before showing up somewhere.
“Sorry Namor. And apologies to your warriors. It is my fault for turning off my kimoyo beads as I worked. What is it you’re here for?” Despite being stood a few feet away from him, she could feel the heat from his body as though it were made of fire in front of her. Her nerves were fried at this point with how loud the buzzing had become, and she hoped to any god that would listen that no fighting would break out right now.
His voice was smooth and sultry as he responded. “An exhibition match.” His smile was nearly predatory as he purred the words, and she felt her stomach twist in response. Confusion bloomed as she tried to connect the dots. There were talks of broadcasting the training exercises between their nations, is that what he was on about? He continued as though he could read her mind.
“Our training facilities are ready for use, and from your communications, Wakanda’s are too. So, we propose an exhibition match. My scientists have figured out how to broadcast visuals back to Talokan, and there’s no better way to test it than a battle or two.”
She could hear the Elders behind her muttering, and she knew it would be best if she just agreed and worked out the details away from their ears. They tended to cause more problems than they solved. “Alright, we can do that. Who would the match be between?” She asked, despite already knowing the answer that would come out of his mouth.
His smile widened as he spoke. “Your general versus my general.” Yeah, that’s what she- wait what? Her glance flickered to Ayo beside M’Baku’s seat. Namor caught the path of her gaze and shook his head. “No, princess. The general in the blue suit. She held her own against Attuma, and I am curious to see how they will fight.” Bewilderment clouded her mind and she found herself speaking without a filter.
“All this for some curiosity? Seriously Namor? If it’s an exhibition match why don’t we just fight on behalf of our kingdoms?” Her tone was exasperated and petulant, which clearly did not go unnoticed by the elders behind her. The king in front of her licked his lips and she couldn’t help the way her eyes flicked down to them at the motion. A flush climbed her neck at her outburst as she heard murmurs growing among the council. His eyes glanced behind her with annoyance before meeting hers again with malicious glee.
“If that is what you wish, princess. We can fight as well.” She withheld a groan. This man. She still wanted to smack him because of the change she’d have to make to her diet, but held back for now. Save it for the match.
“Sure, why not. I agree to the match, and as princess I agree on behalf of Okoye as well.” Bast, when had her life become such a circus? The tension in the room was finally ebbing away and she needed to separate these groups now before it got the chance to rise again. For once, M’Baku was helpful with that.
“Beautiful, I look forward to seeing you all beat each other bloody. Shuri, why don’t you show them to the rooms by the river? And send one of the guards for some towels.” He eyed the floor distastefully as he spoke, and she questioned if it was truly the right idea to leave him in charge as she had. Regardless, she nodded and gestured for the door. The Talokanil turned and waited for their king, but he did not move.
For a moment he stared at her, and she felt the urge to hide from his piercing gaze. The screaming in her veins had not died down, and she felt as though she was going to collapse from exhaustion at any moment now. She scowled in response to his unending stare, and he seemed satisfied enough to finally move towards the door. I don’t understand him sometimes.
The group made their way through the palace and the Golden City in relative silence, with the Talokanil staring around at her home in something that appeared to be a mix of confusion and respect. Namor was looking into every single market stall and shop they passed by and she contemplated putting a bell on his stupid collarpiece so she could at least hear whenever he tried to run off. Thankfully, none of them seemed in the talking mood right now. Eventually, they reached the river where the training facility had been built, and she led them inside to the pond that led to the underwater half of the building.
“Let us know what you think of the accommodations. We did our best to match the environments of your home in each of the rooms, but we are more than happy to change anything that isn’t comfortable.” The warriors nodded and dove into the water, not sparing her a second glance. She turned to look at Namor, conscious of just how alone the two of them were now, and stifled a shriek when she saw how much closer he’d moved to her.
“Your country is beautiful, princess. You should be proud of it.” His voice was quiet, low, and she had to lean forward to hear it better. A slight blush warmed her face at the compliment. She ignored the ever-present anger that tried to flare up at being alone with him again. He killed Mama!, it screamed. But she reminded herself of Killmonger’s words in the ancestral plane. She chose to save Riri, just as I would have. I beat him and spared his life, just like brother would have. Focus on the future, Shuri.
She took a deep breath and met the dark eyes that were searching her own. “Thank you, I am proud of it. As I am of all of my people.” He nodded solemnly, but when he opened his mouth to speak again, a wry grin shaped his lips.
“Even the science guild?” He chuckled to himself as she tried to keep from frowning. Was she really that obvious with her disdain for them? His laughter was warm and rich, and a small smile found its way on her lips as it died down. She couldn’t help it. Other’s laughter had always made her smile, even when she was a young girl.
“Thank you for the accommodations. I will see you soon for our match.” His words were calmer than she’d ever heard and she nodded before he jumped into the water and swam down away from her. Finally, the screaming anxiety in her bones died down to nothing more than a whisper and she could relax again. I am so tired. She’d leave the semantics of the match for her specialists to figure out, but for now she needed sleep.
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When she woke in the morning, she felt like she could breathe for the first time in days. Checking Griot, it seemed she had slept for a whole seven hours and forty-one minutes undisturbed. That had to be a new record this year. Staring up at the dark ceiling, she tried to sort through her thoughts before standing to face the world. Namor. With the chaos that was M’Baku and the Elders, she hadn’t even had the time to be nervous around him like she had been the last time.
She remembers standing in the river waiting for him with a mix of anxiety and confusion. He’d grabbed her head. Like, full-blown, I’m going to kiss you, grabbed her head. That’s what it looked like whenever Baba and Mama had kissed at public events. She’d been so confused that she’d stood on that beach for another ten minutes trying to figure out what had happened. She expected him to try and kill her, not whatever that was. So of course, the next time she saw him had her flustered like a schoolgirl. She was a scientist, she hated not understanding things. And Namor was the hardest thing to understand in a very long time. It made her uncomfortable and unsure, not knowing what he was going to do or say next.
She was a scientist… Maybe the archives they’d created on Talokan culture could help? He hadn’t done it again, seeming to respect her wishes on the river and again in the training facility by not touching her. Was it a culture thing? Like something warriors did after a battle?
Pulling up her communicator from her bedside table, she twisted the large beads until she found what she was looking for on the hologram. The category called ‘gestures’ in the culture section of the archives. Truthfully, she’s only ever looked in the ‘discoveries’ category of the science section. This one was formatted differently and had visuals to go along with the translated words. It took her an hour to read through all of the different forms of gestures acknowledged in Talokanil culture with no luck of finding an answer. She tried the ‘personal relations’ category next and promptly decided that the communications team were officially idiots and needed to learn how to cross-reference between their categories.
There, first on the page was the head-touching thing he had done to her when she tried to shake his hand that first time. Touching heads with another is widely considered a great show of trust among the Talokanil people and is often used as a goodbye or a show of goodwill among close friends and family. No mention of any other implications around the motion. I wouldn’t call us close friends Namor, what the hell. A frown settled on her face as she reread the words next to the pictogram of two people touching foreheads. Her stomach growled aggressively, and she felt a pang of pain shoot through her as she realized just how long it’d been since she’d eaten.
Ugh, but that means… Sure enough, when she reached the dining room she found grilled fish and dried seaweed among the bread, fruit, and eggs for breakfast. A loud groan escaped her mouth as she slumped in her seat and began eating. Stupid fish man and his stupid flower. M’Baku walked into the dining room amidst her grumblings and eyed her plate suspiciously.
“Don’t tell me you’ve developed a taste for fish, princess.” She flipped him off and continued sulking while she chewed her fill. His booming laugh nearly rattled the table as he sat down and began eating his own meal. Glancing at his plate, she noticed the beans and rice off to one side and made a mental note to tell the chefs to just start putting sushi with every meal she ate. At least it’ll taste better than this mush.
She finally forced herself to swallow the last bite of whatever white fish meat they had put in front of her and excused herself from the room. Heading for her lab, she went through the checklist of things she had to get done today before the exhibition match at sundown. She made sure to leave her kimoyo beads on this time as she tested the new pather suit over and over again. She also printed up a long-term oxygen mask that she could test in the facilities later that day if she had the free time. The rebreather jewelry was mostly intended for the Dora Milaje, but she went ahead and whipped up a dark beaded necklace for M’Baku just in case the king ran into any trouble. She summoned a guard to collect the items and begin handing them out while she continued working.
Griot notified her that it was lunch time and she glanced at the screen she had monitoring her mineral levels on the far wall. Low again. Damn. Not wanting to deal with a potential episode later tonight, she ordered that her food be brought from the palace to Mount Bashenga so that she could eat and work at the same time. She glanced at the plate with distaste. Lamb chops and sushi did not go together. But she forced herself to eat the combination anyways, hoping T’Challa would at least be proud of her in death. That familiar sorrow filled her again, but it also reminded her of a problem.
Nakia wanted Toussaint to remain hidden from Wakanda and the world, but that meant he had no access to any of her technology. He should be safe in Haiti, but just in case I should make him some protection. She tried to think of ways to disguise her technology and eventually settled on more jewelry in the hopes that he would wear it often enough. A necklace made of brown and white beads that would act as a rebreather in water and a tracking device if pinged. A black and silver ring that could track his vitals and let her know if anything ever became abnormal. What else? Nakia would probably catch on to her plans, but she hoped the concern for her son’s safety would win out over her skepticism.
Her thoughts were interrupted by Griot’s voice reminding her that sundown was approaching. Sighing, she left Toussaint’s gifts on the table and searched the messy lab for her casual dry suit. She made it as soon as she realized she’d likely have to be in and out of water a lot for any training exercises in the future. The full panther suit felt like overkill and a tad unfair if her opponents were fighting unarmed. She donned the jumpsuit, adjusting to its unusual texture and hoping that it dried as quickly on her as it did in the tests. With a final glance at her lab, she made her way towards the transport that would take her straight to the river training grounds.
They better not be serving fish to eat during the show.