Chapter 9
The water in the facility was surprisingly cool for being practically on the surface, and it acted as a balm on his heated skin as he settled into the hammock provided to him. Dark eyes teased him when he closed his own, so he looked at the beads on his wrist instead. Kimoyo, she had called them. Sleep was likely far away, so he took the time alone to study the device on his arm. He’d removed his gear by the entryway but had left the bracelet on. It looked much more natural when it was not clashing for attention with the golden tone of his bracer.
He trailed his fingers over the engravings on each bead. There were symbols for “health”, “how”, “stories”, and “panther” and he smiled to himself at seeing his language so beautifully engraved on the metal. The other beads seemed void of carvings, but that was for the best considering he had never used anything like her technology before. Talokan technology had to work differently than surface technology because of the water, and the princess seems to have personally advanced Wakandan technology beyond the rest of the surface world. His chest swelled with pride, and he paused.
I am proud on her behalf. Hm. Ignoring that for now, he swiped a fingertip over the “how” bead and startled at the small screen that formed itself above his wrist. Information spanned the screen in waves and his eyes hurt with the strain of trying to read it all. Some time passed before he had read all of the basic instructions, and he tried to familiarize himself with the use of these strange beads he now wore. He moved to the “stories” bead and was surprised to find a condensed archive of all of the information Wakanda had shared with Talokan until then. Intrigue filled him as he navigated the different tabs, noting with amusement the personal touches of the princess herself in the introductions on each section.
“The communications center doesn’t understand cross-referencing, so I did it for them. If you want to know more about anything, just tap the word and a list of related topics will come up. -Shuri” So it was a curated archive, then. He smiled to himself at her attitude. Clearly, she held some animosity towards her peers here, and he could only assume it came from old grudges from many years ago. Or perhaps she is just too smart for them. Her talents seemed put to good use for the people of Wakanda, but he had been watching her during the feast; it seemed as though many within her tribe and even the elders of her lands did not know how to interact with her. They seemed… displeased?
Some negative emotion he had never truly encountered before was on their faces whenever she turned away and it had spread indignation through him on her behalf. She was their princess, and brilliant beyond compare. What possessed them to act as though she was some burden or unruly child? Irritation flared in him as he recalled the man who had grasped her hand at the end of the feast. She was clearly uncomfortable, but she would not admit it. Her explanation on the transport did not ease his worries, either. It was disrespectful to proposition royalty in Talokan, and he imagined it was much the same in Wakanda. No one would dare approach Namora with the kind of offer that man was extending to the princess. They’d die on my spear before the second word was out.
Perhaps her family was much the same as he, but without them the scum had felt entitled to an opportunity. Disgust turned his face to a scowl, and he shook his head to rid himself of such thinking. The Panther can handle herself. Curious, he scrolled through the many tabs in the archive, until one caught his eye. “Eating habits”. He froze, mind flashing back to the moment in her lab. Dark eyes glittering in the white light, slender fingers pinching the roll before him, the feel of her fingertips grazing the edges of his lips as he took the food from her. A warm flush filled his body, and he swallowed in a haze.
In Talokan, sharing food was common, but to hold food out for another to eat was seen as very… forward. Something done to court a lover, or to display fidelity and intention at weddings. His heart had stuttered its beating in his chest when she’d raised her hand to offer him the s’ushi. In all his years, he had never felt such a sensation. Many had attempted to court him over the years, but none were his equal. Until her.
His eyes combed through the information on Wakandan eating habits, following a trail to find their practices on sharing food. All he found was references to it being a sign of general trust. Switching tactics, he searched for Wakandan courting rituals. She does not know Talokan. Surely, she did not intend to perform such a gesture. There, he found information about approaching parents, attending ceremonies, and the nature of gifts. Wakanda was much laxer about courting than Talokan, it seemed. He did find an interesting tab about gestures of intimacy and found himself reading everything under it. It was there that he found that touching heads was a very intimate gesture for Wakandans. Ah, I should have considered that.
Perhaps she had misread his intentions? He had, after all, made the first move by her country’s standards. But no, she had not changed her actions towards him in any way. Frustration bubbled at trying to figure out the Panther’s intention. The simple answer is the most correct, that is the phrase that surface-dwellers used, yes? He tried to apply that philosophy here. Her peers in the nobility of Wakanda seemed to consider her strange and distasteful, so perhaps she just behaved unusually because that was who she was. There was no sign that she was interested in courting him, so he relaxed a bit and tried to move on. A small part of him, though, was disappointed at the idea.
He would not mind if she was courting him. That thought should have shocked him to his core, but it felt as natural as swimming. His body felt calm in her presence, and anxious in her absence. She’d bested him in war and tied him in battle. She was the most brilliant mind he had ever encountered, putting his most impressive researchers to shame. She was merciful to her enemies and caring for her people. She was beautiful and strong and regal. Realization settled in his gut like silt in a murky cave. She is everything mother spoke of.
In her old age, his mother’s wisdom had grown scarce and scattered, but there was one moment of clarity where she’d told him what it was like to love. The one you love will be your equal in every way. As the sun is to the moon, or the sea is to the sandy shores. You will crave her company more than any other. She will infuriate you, challenge you, and you will be happy for it. She will be like the gods in the sky, and you a humble worshiper. That is what it is to love, my son. And you will know it as you know yourself. By now, his mind was racing in time with his heart. In his many lifetimes, he’d always thought his mother was wrong. He could never have room to love an equal when he loved his people so much. There was no equal for a god of sea and sky.
Except, there was. Sea and sky were not complete without fire and earth. He had just never believed that such a god existed. Until her. Her very being was fire and earth. It was how she had beaten him, but it was also in the tone of her body and the light in her eyes. If there was any air in his lungs, it would have been pulled out of him by this point. It would explain the rage he’d quelled when that man from her tribe had grabbed her at the feast. The thought of her with another was disturbing and twisted like a dying eel in his mind. No one was her equal. They did not deserve her attention.
But then, neither do I. He had taken her mother from her, a crime that he would not forgive if he were in her position. He had protected his people, but so had she. She was more forgiving than he had ever found himself to be, but it was wrong to think she would ever truly forgive him for the Queen’s death. A surging well of emotion fought its way to his heart, slowing its erratic pace. She could be the woman he loved, but it was not his place to assume he could be the man she loved. Still, a part of him hoped that her benevolence would shine on him again. That the gods would be merciful enough to grant him the selfish chance to be hers.
Respect and admiration floored him whenever he looked at her, and he would not allow that to change. For now, he was grateful to have found an equal. That was enough. He was her ally, and he would stand by her side for however long she required it. He was an immortal, there was no need to rush into conclusions or actions. He had a duty to his people and hers now, and he would uphold their safety and peace above all else. I should ask her to show me her lands tomorrow. He would be staying another day or two to wrap up preparations for the soldiers coming next month to Talokan, so he should learn more about her nation while he was here.
----------
The beads on his wrist glowed as he slid the neck piece over his head. The shell necklaces settled softly against his throat, and he shifted his attention to the glowing bracelet on his arm. Tapping the bead, a small screen appeared that announced the princess’ agreeance to his suggestion. “If it means I get out of meeting with the council, I’ll show you every village and stream in the continent.” He felt a grin tugging at his lips at her exaggerations. What did her council do to make her loathe their presence so much?
He met Attuma in the tunnel outside his sleeping quarters, and the soldier pulled him aside to speak. “K’uk’ulkan, I hear you are going to be navigating the lands of Wakanda today. Shall I gather my gear?” Smiling softly at the warrior, he shook his head. Always so alert.
“No, General, it will be fine. The Black Panther will accompany me, and there is no threat on these lands that she or I would not be able to handle. Please, enjoy yourself here, friend. I’m sure you could ask for a tour yourself, perhaps that Okoye would be willing to guide you?” A flush took over the hammerhead’s features as he finished speaking, and he grinned at the obvious discomfort painted there. A sharp laugh escaped him, he could not help it, and Attuma quickly glared and shoved his king aside. He continued to laugh as the general swam away in a huff.
I have never seen him so out of sorts over a woman before, he thought to himself. It was nice to sit back and watch as these things unfolded. Namora once had a crush on one of the delivery boys that ran errands around the castle, and he can remember spending much of his time teasing his young cousin whenever he saw her. He swam his way to the surface to meet with the princess, thinking back on all the palace gossip about who was courting who throughout the ages. Do the warriors of Wakanda have similar rumors? I must ask them. Emerging into the dry portion of the training grounds, he was surprised to find the princess already standing there waiting for him.
The morning light shone through the glass above and lit her from all sides, illuminating her through the slight haze of dust in the air. She was standing with her hands folded in front of her, exchanging her black and white clothing from before for a garb of greens and gold that would be seen as the most opulent gown imaginable in his homeland. His steps faltered just the smallest bit as he approached her, and he blamed the uneven terrain for the error. She flashed him a smirk and he felt heat attempt to rush his face. Choosing not to acknowledge it, he merely nodded his head at her and waited for her to speak.
Her grin did not shrink as she spoke. “Got your land legs now? Or did you need a few more minutes?” He narrowed his eyes at her, unamused at her joking. She seemed to pick up on his displeasure and thankfully turned to begin the tour without another jab at his misstep. As she turned, his eyes were drawn to the lines of muscle in her back, completely exposed through the large cutout in her gown. He swallowed, mouth feeling dry, and snapped his eyes up to the back of her head. Now is not the time for disrespectful thoughts. Following her lead, he began a leisurely pace to a clearing not far from the training grounds.
There in the grass, was some kind of vehicle floating above the ground. It was small, open, and seemed to be made up of two chairs strapped together. At least, that is what it looked like to him. The princess walked up to the contraption and tossed herself casually in the front seat, pushing buttons in front of her while he stared. She looked up at him and gestured behind her. “Get in. I know you can fly, but this is easier, and I need to test the flight capabilities with both seats occupied.” Her voice was stern, but a small grin lit her face and he found himself obliging without a second thought.
A faint hum surrounded them, and he shifted in his seat, unsure how to position himself. He sat slightly higher than the princess, and he could easily look over her head to glance at the controls in front of her. He was not comforted at the sight of her moving her hands over what appeared to be black sand to command the ship. Straps came down across his body and he itched to rip them off immediately. He did not like this device of hers, and he had a feeling she would delight in that fact if she found out. Trying to school his features into mild indifference, he glanced around and noticed the sides of the ship had come up slightly around them. That was all he got to observe before the vehicle suddenly launched them into the air and he found himself gripping the arms of his seat so tightly they dented.
Her voice sounded in front of him, tinted with satisfaction. “Ah, good, it can still take off just fine.” His grip tightened on the armrests. Has this not been tested? Is she trying to kill me now? I thought we were past that! Normally he would relax, knowing that he could always fly away and survive any incident involving aircraft, but the straps around him were stretchy and tight at the same time and he was not so sure he could escape. The world around them began to move and he tried to find something to focus on that was not his increasing worry that the princess was actually going to kill him with this death trap of a vehicle.
“Normally, we’d use the airships to go to each of the tribes, but they’re far too big for two people alone. This is much more fun. And I get to show you the forest and mountains up close and personal.” The Panther’s tone was cheerful and light, and he found himself responding without thinking.
“You call this thing fun? It is like a drunken turtle thrown into the air.” His voice sounded slightly panicked, even to his own ears, and he tried to focus only on the dark head of curls in front of him. She laughed brightly and waved her hand in the air nonchalantly.
“It isn’t a turtle, it’s a Myna! That’s what I’ve decided to call it. The design is best suited for quick and compact travel of small parties. Like a motorbike but flying! I’ve been meaning to test this prototype out for ages, but I’d never gotten the chance until now.” Prototype, she says! She’s mad! He tried to press himself further into the seat beneath him, his wings fluttering helplessly on his ankles. This is unnatural. The princess glanced back at him for the first time since she’d begun flying and she laughed as soon as her eyes met his.
“Are you afraid of flying? You weren’t like this on the transport yesterday.” She was grinning wider than he had ever seen before, and the awe that filled him at the sight was only slightly dulled by his indignation at her words.
“I am not afraid of flying. This thing is merely unnatural and an affront to the beauty of flight.” The dark eyes in front of him glittered with mirth and he felt himself relaxing slightly.
“I’ll keep that in mind,” she said with a small smile. She then turned forward to continue piloting and he noticed their flight become faster and more erratic. A growl slipped past his lips. The minx is doing this on purpose! His stomach clenched with every glide and shift of the currents. Gods above, do not let this woman be the death of me today. The craft flew them over hills and plains, trees and streams, and he found that his worries were eased if he focused on the scenery outside. Wakanda was a beautiful nation, almost entirely unchanged from its natural state. Vivid colors cropped up in the form of villages and outposts, and he found himself leaning closer to the edge of his seat to get a better look. They appeared to be heading towards the edges of the Panther’s lands, a region marked by grasslands and hills of green and yellow.
The ship seemed to slow, and he tensed in wait, watching as the ground got closer and closer by the second. A breath of relief escaped him when the ship met dirt once more, and he nearly launched himself out of his seat as soon as the restraints disappeared from his shoulders. The screech of metal followed his movements, and he looked down in surprise to find the armrests of the seat he had occupied mangled in the distinct shape of his fingers. The princess whipped her head around at the sound and spun in her seat to look for the damage. Her eyes widened and a pout took over her lips as she assessed the destruction he had caused.
“Namor! This prototype is brand new! Did you have to destroy the armrests? That composite took days to perfect and now look at it!” She clambered over the back of her seat and began scanning with her beads while he slowly backed away from the craft.
Disdain curled his upper lip as he spoke. “Maybe you should use a stronger material then. If it cannot withstand a little pressure, surely it is not safe to fly around in.” He leveled a small glare at the vehicle, one that was quickly outmatched by the fury aimed his way from the princess.
“Did you just call my design weak? I’m not the one going around grabbing things with my full strength just because a little artificial flight spooked me.” ‘Spooked’? I am a god, I do not get spooked! Irritation flared in him at the accusation, and he found himself yet again speaking without a filter.
“I was not spooked, princess. You were flying around like a reckless bird; I had my reasons to be wary.” A quiet growl escaped the princess and her eyes widened at him. She jumped out of the ship and began stalking towards him with all the menace of a cat on the prowl. He forced his legs to be still as she approached, somewhat distracted by the fire in her eyes as she raised a finger to poke at his chest.
“Don’t. You damaged my Myna, you’re lucky I haven’t killed you for it. Anybody else and I would have made their life hell for the damage you’ve just caused. You are a guest, Namor. Start acting like it.” Her voice was dark and low, lilting in his ears like a curse. His anger boiled in his veins at the way she was speaking to him, but he could barely focus on the feeling when she was standing so close to him, challenging him. The place where her finger was jabbed into his chest was burning. He narrowed his eyes down at her, lip curling with the anger he could not contain. He could not help it; her fire goaded his own.
Taking a step closer to her, he relished in the unwavering gaze focused on him. The last time they were this close, his lips were brushing her fingers as she fed him. Such deft, skilled fingers, so gentle. Without meaning to, his gaze shifted down to her finger on his chest. So strong. His tongue darted out to wet his lips. Focus. Dragging his eyes away from her hand and to her face, he spoke.
“I may have yielded, princess,” he growled at her, “But that does not mean I take orders from you.” Her lips parted and his eyes caught the movement like a hawk. The Panther was all heat and fire in front of him, and some irrational part of him wanted to burn. His body felt uncomfortable in the dry air, and he itched to return to the water, but he could not tear himself from this standoff with her. He would not back down. Her eyes still glared into his own, but there was something else in them now, a glaze over her pupils that captured his attention. Rapt, he leaned closer, determined to dissect every glimpse of the thoughts painted across her face.
A silent sound escaped her lips in a gasp. He gazed at her, unwavering. I will not surrender. The thought was like a mantra, pushing him to maintain his simmering anger and will. But she opened her mouth once more, and his will wavered. His eyes were trapped by the movements of her lips in front of him, so much so that he barely registered the words coming out of them.
“Apologize.” Her voice was a whisper, but no less forceful than before. Confusion filled him, followed closely by the jolting realization of just how close he had leaned toward her in their standoff. She was mere inches away from him, her finger still pressed almost bruising into his skin. Leaning back to a more respectful distance, his thoughts raced. She wants me to apologize?
She cleared her throat and spoke again with more volume. “Apologize to Myna and I’ll forget about it.” Her dazed, angry expression molded slowly into a smug haughtiness as she spoke that bewildered him almost more than her words did.
He found himself at a near loss for words. “You want me to apologize to your ship?” She nodded once, dropping her finger and crossing her arms between them instead. “A king never apologizes.” She stared up at him in defiance, unimpressed. “It is a ship; it does not have feelings to apologize for.” Still, she stared at him, expectant. Pure bafflement filled his mind. She is not going to budge on this, is she? “I will not apologize to a vehicle.” Her eyebrows rose, but still she stood there. Groaning in frustration, he raised a hand to his head. What is happening? “Fine. I apologize for damaging your ship. Will you begin the tour now?” Her lips pursed and she frowned at him.
“That’s not what I said.” What? The frustration building within him threatened to bubble over. I’ve already lowered myself, woman! What more do you want? His eye twitched as he stared down at her. Her gaze moved behind her, towards the ship, then meaningfully back towards him. She does not mean-? But yes, of course that is what the princess meant. Irritating did not even begin to describe her at the moment. Closing his eyes, he counted his breaths and thanked the gods that at least no Talokanil were here to see this.
His teeth clenched as he turned to face the ship. “Ship Myna. I apologize for damaging you.” His glare moved to the Panther beside him, and he found her nodding once before uncrossing her arms and walking away. I find myself with the uncontrollable urge to strangle something. She walked some distance away before stopping and turning to him.
“Are you coming? You said you wanted a tour.”
----------
Aside from the initial argument upon landing at the Border Tribe, the tour was not so bad. The princess led him through all of the capital villages for each tribe, detailing the history and distinct practices of each. The tribes had trades unique to themselves that were differentiated through their signature colors and styles. It was fascinating when compared to Talokan’s relatively monocultural habits. They sampled food from vendors and shops in each tribe, though he was not a fan of the way they prepared their meats on the surface. The Merchant Tribe, however, had one dish composed of some kind of root vegetable and bean paste that was possibly the most delicious thing the surface had created, even equal with s’ushi.
The princess stayed cordial and polite whenever they were on the streets of the villages but sank into her seat with a sigh and a slight frown whenever they departed for the next location. It concerned him to see her so tense among her own people. A ruler should not feel burdened to greet their subjects. It was not his place to ask, though, and he did not wish to push his luck with her already short temper.
After the incident with the ship that morning, she had allowed him to fly alongside her from one location to the next, and he found himself more grateful for the freedom his wings afforded him. By the afternoon, they had finally finished exploring the mountains of the Jabari tribe and his wings were sore for the first time in recent memory. The princess eyed him as they walked back to where she had landed her ship and her voice was surprisingly soft as she spoke.
“Are you alright? You’ve been out of the water all day and have barely said a word of it.” He shrugged, not wanting to tell her that he did not require water to be actively on his skin in order to walk on the surface. It made him stronger, and total dehydration was a death sentence, but if he was not using his strength for anything, the excess water was unnecessary. But it is strange that I have not even noticed the usual weakness that comes with flying so much until now. It seemed that his intrigue had distracted him from the fatigue for most of the day. Clearing his throat, he responded.
“There is enough in the air to get by.” She hummed, and her hand came up to rub at her temple. He paused in his steps. It took her a moment to realize he had stopped, and she turned to face him again, hand still massaging her temple.
“Is something the matter?” He stared at her, noticing many of the same signs he noted yesterday after their match, before she had requested silence and gone as still as the grave against him for some time. Her eyes were pinched, her head was clearly bothering her, and the exposed muscles in her shoulders and arms were tense and corded.
“Have you eaten your s’ushi for the day?” He asked. Confusion crossed her face, and her head tilted to the side. Her eyes flicked down to the beads on her wrist and she swiped a finger over them without a word, reading the numbers that flashed across the screen there. Looking back up at him, she narrowed her eyes, looking over him skeptically. “How did you know my levels were low?” He shook his head, of course she would think I was using some science to tell.
“You appear in rising distress, princess, that is all. If you are saying that your levels are low, and that you may be in pain because of it, then I insist we cut the tour now so that you may eat.” Her eyes closed in a brief wince, and his face scrunched in a frown in response. She is already in pain. His feet moved without command, carrying him to where she stood. By now, both her hands were at her temples and rubbing up and down.
“Why’d you have to mention it? Don’t you know that if you talk about a problem, it gets worse?” Her voice was pinched, almost whining as she spoke, and he could not help but chuckle at her tone. Reaching his hands up, he paused.
“Princess,” he breathed. He tried to keep his voice soft and quiet so as to not startle her, but she jumped regardless. He was less than a foot away from her, but her eyes were still closed, and her hands had not stopped rubbing her head. Clearing his throat gently, he reached his fingers out to graze against her wrists. She froze immediately, and her eyes snapped open to meet his. “Allow me. Please.” It bothered him to see her in pain, and he felt a surging inside of him telling him to comfort her.
Slowly, she lowered her hands and closed her eyes once more, nodding in a barely perceptible movement. As gently as he could, he pressed his fingertips into the sides of her head. He felt her pulse pounding strong beneath her skin. Slowly, he began rubbing small circles into her temples, replicating a motion he remembered the healers using on him when he was young and prone to headaches from being underwater too long. He spread the flat of his fingers against the dips in her skull and pressed dutifully down in a constant manner.
So focused on not hurting her, he almost missed the sighing groan that escaped her lips as her shoulders slumped in front of him. The sound was primal, pure relief, and he could not stop his thoughts from shamefully running away with it. His skin felt too hot, and his mouth too dry. He swallowed the feeling and forced his focus back on his movements. She is not in pain anymore, that is good. Still, he had to contain himself as she continued to let out soft groans and gasps. Gods, princess. Must you sound like every man’s desire right now? It was maddening to be so close to her, to be the cause of her relief like this, yet not at all in the way that he wished to be.
His teeth threatened to crack under the force he was clenching his jaw with, and after a particularly sinful sigh, he moved to pull his hands away. This is too much. I cannot- He did not get to finish the thought before a whimper came from the woman before him. Her hands shot out to loosely grasp his wrists and his skin burned where she touched him. His knees nearly buckled underneath him as the sound and sensation sent shockwaves through his nerves. A strangled groan forced itself from his lips, and he clamped down on his teeth even harder. Cruelty, that is what this was. Cruelty from the gods in retribution for his sins.
“Please. Just until it goes away.” Her voice was small, pleading. How could he deny her? Resigning himself to his fate, he stepped closer so that her head was almost cradled against his chest and continued his ministrations. He gazed down at her, watching her intently. Selfishly, he allowed himself to indulge in the moment, holding her face in his hands, her body so close to his, her breath fanning his overheated skin. Greedily, he languished in the seconds that ticked by as the ferocious Black Panther allowed the Feathered Serpent to comfort her.