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It was a little funny to hear the God of water speak so fondly of ember.
Of enough scorching flames and cackling sparks to devour nations whole.
But upon further contemplation, it made perfect sense to Shuri.
Master of seas, flight, and strength--it could come to stand that the almighty K’uk’ulkan would be drawn to the one element he could not conquer. Especially considering how much it suited him, ironically enough.
Fire was present when he was christened as the loveless Namor, and it would be present when he sought to deliver the same justice to the surface world as he did the slave plantation.
But what justice is there, to blindly raze down innocent lives? Shuri asked. Does life have no value to you?
Namor needed no consideration before shaking his head. The value of anything is only truly felt once it is lost. You, of all people, should know that some lives are worth more than others.
Nonsense, Shuri lied, wondering what had possessed her to open up to Namor--a trespasser of Wakandan territory, a tentative enemy, a god--about her grief for T'Challah so quickly, so soon. Who are you to be the judge?
Although, it didn't take much wondering at all for her to quickly dissect the reason, even as she berated him.
For someone proclaimed to be "loveless", Namor had shown the exact opposite when taking her through the sights and wonders of his capital city.
At first, while starstruck at the advanced and rich underwater society, she grew a bit wary at the Talokani people's adoration of their king. It was almost too much, ringing alarm bells in her head upon catching the sheer worship in their eyes, feeling nearly cult-like.
Sure, he was a literal immortal god to them, but godhood did not mean perfection. There had to be more beneath the surface, so she carefully kept an eye out for any tell. Any subtle clue that just maybe, this paradise wasn't all it was cracked up to be beyond its wondrous surface.
Then she saw how he interacted with them. With every single Talokanil and wildlife.
He treated them as his own, no royal barrier whatsoever in spite of the divine power gap or massive population.
Unheard of, how he would level himself to play pok a tok with the children, pluck seagrass for an old weaver, and handfeed meat to their willingly trained killer whales whilst stroking them on the head like they were but a needy sea dog.
In all religion, there were those who questioned it. Rebelled against gods of much greater and grander stories than what prowess Namor owned, and yet, Shuri found none of that here.
Scientific skeptic she was, it was clear that the utter devotion and reverence they offered to their ruler was done out of pure love. Overflowing in their attempts to match the amount of loyalty their protector showed first.
Even moreso than the murky depths they were in--he was wholly transparent with himself. As seen when he shared his story with Shuri earlier, and again when Namor responded, Not just me, but you as well. Between the life and death of an American stranger or Wakandan stranger, surely you would not hesitate.
Shuri frowned, looking back to the pool of water they were wading their calves in.
There was a point. Of course she would see her loved ones as more valuable than others. So of course Namor would do the same for his people. Even if it meant being hostile to others. It was a sentiment she could well understand as princess, so privy to the leadership and inner workings of the most powerful nation on Earth.
And what of the innocent? The children. They are at no fault. Shuri still followed up her first question, pointedly not mentioning Riri.
Namor did not yield. I recall your conversation with your mother. Where you spoke of burning the world. He finally shifted in his position to face her better.
That was for a killer you could not kill. Imagine if your brother were taken by a more tangible source. By another person.
They would be dead where they stand.
Shuri surprised herself with her own interjection, but she did not regret them. She loved her brother. Loves him still. Her fiery would know no end were he to die at someone else's hands. And it would not rest till the owner of said hands was buried six feet under. Better yet, charred to a crisp, then ash.
Pleased, Namor nodded. Exactly. Taken by an unprovoked, malicious attack; it wouldn't matter who the killer was, would it? Even if the killer were but a complex amalgamation of causes.
Shuri knew where he was headed with this, but she let him continue, focusing instead on relaxing the fists she had unwittingly clenched from the thought experiment.
For centuries, have nations killed our people. Unprovoked. Malicious.
Our, he said. Shuri calmed down and turned to him. And still they push. Our boundaries, our safety, everything.
Before Shuri could launch her rebuttal, Namor waved a hand. I recognize the tragedy, in that the threat to my people takes the form of a promising youth.
She is an indirect cause. Shuri both appreciated the concession, and disliked it for what he was about to say next. There was no doubt Riri's intelligence and creations would be snatched up by the government, soon as she returned to American soil. No doubt that she'd stop at nothing until such return.
Yes. Indirect. Namor leaned in. But a threat nonetheless. One I cannot, as ruler and god-king, allow to exist. Surely.. you understand?
Shuri grimaced, wishing she didn't. There'll always be more. More scientists, innovators. If something can be made, it shall.
To her startle, Namor shifted to gently hold Shuri's hand with his own, bringing it near his sternum. The waters suddenly felt cooler as she locked in his gaze, full of that paradoxical fire, his pupils a dark inferno.
And I say let it be so. Shuri, I see your rage. I see the spitting fury, the hell you'd rain down on those who harm your kin. Meeting no resistance, Namor finally pulled in her hand all the way to touch his flesh, thrumming with radiative heat and an identical fury.
I feel the same. My family, your family, will be threatened if not for an eternity, then for lifetimes to come. What does it matter if our enemies are unceasing? You know who you are.
Shuri unthinkingly slipped a long finger under the ornate necklace covering most of his upper chest, gold and vibranium kissing her skin in a cold peck. She did know who she was, and sometimes, she feared it.
Gladly, would she erase millions if it meant protecting her brother. Easily, did she see how Namor would do the same for his people. Worse yet, part of her didn't care for intent; if you played a key role in her loved ones' downfall, then down too you will fall, end of story.
How tiring then. Shuri sighed, leaning her forehead closer, but not upon his shoulder. That this fight should be neverending.
Not forevermore, no. That's just it. Namor smiled. Allianced, we could put an end to this quiet war. I protect your people, as you protect mine, against the world.
The world... Shuri digested this. From what Namor has shown her, he had enough people and weapons to bring about continental devastation. With Wakanda's support, truly no one could ever harm them.
Raising her head, she realized how close they were, her breaths dusting his lips.
Let us, Shuri. A blazing hand carefully cupped her jaw and chin, so soft it felt reverent. Let us burn it together.
Rapidly, their conversation flitted through her mind, analytical yet impassioned.
Intent, thereby innocence, meant nothing in the face of her people's endangerment.
Protection quickly equated to prevention when family was at stake.
Her brother was dead, gone, and never coming back.
With her free hand, she covered the one on her face, then bringing both of their joint hands together. Her eyes mirrored Namor's, iris flickering in glowing flecks of the very same ember.
And let it forge anew.