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T’Challa burst into the throne room, eyes frantic. “Where is she?” He snarled. The elders shrunk back in apprehension, and somewhat fear, and T’Challa let out a growl when no one answered him.
M’Baku was the only one un-phased, predictably, and laughed at the King’s antics. T’Challa’s head snapped towards him and he very nearly pounced on the man, striding up to him, grabbing his collar, and pulling his face down.
“Elders, leave, now.” The King commanded.
M’Baku kept a lazy smile on his face and raised an eyebrow. “Who exactly are you looking for?” T’Challa let him go and started to pace in a small circle in front of the Jabari.
“Shuri.” He spit out finally, and M’Baku’s face grew serious.
“She is missing?”
“I cannot find her anywhere. I’m worried that K’uk’ulkan has gone back on his word and taken her.” M’Baku hesitated at that. The Serpent God was untrustworthy, yes, but he had reasons for doing the things that he did and he usually explained them instead of taking off like a thief in the night.
“Why would he do that?”
“I don’t know!” T’Challa gasped, practically falling into his throne. “I just know that Shuri is nowhere to be found, she has her trackers off, and I have a sneaking suspicion that the Fish Man has something to do with it!”
T’Challa brought his hand down on the armrest and the loud metal clang became the only sound in the room.
Until a small, clearly trying to be secretive laugh was heard from the shadows of the room. T’Challa whirled around and pointed at the girl who’d laughed.
Riri Williams, Wakanda’s first ever foreign exchange student and prided guest of M’Baku, pushed off of the wall and smiled at the king, thumping an X salute with her arms as she approached.
“Riri.” He greeted, emotions still running high. “Do you know where my sister is?
The teenager winced and scrunched up her face. “Sorry, king, can’t tell you.” T’Challa let out a deep breath. “However, I’m on your side. Shuri told me not to tell anyone anything and here I am, telling y’all some things.”
“How very gracious of you.” M’Baku muttered sarcastically and she made finger guns at him.
T’Challa would’ve found her presence more enjoyable if he wasn’t terrified for his sister.
“Riri, where is Princess Shuri?” He demanded and M’Baku stepped behind his ward to close her in. Riri swallowed harshly and tried for a smile.
“Well, you weren’t totally wrong about K’uk’ulkan…”
T’Challa tightened his hand into a fist. “Has he taken her? Where? Is she ok?”
Riri rolled her eyes, which was probably a federal offense. T’Challa ignored it. “Of course she’s fine. Why would I leave her in danger without telling anyone? She went of her own volition, but I can’t exactly tell you where.”
T’Challa studied the girl for any signs that could possibly explain why she was being so cryptic. She was also twirling a braid between her fingers and smirking like she knew so much better than him.
T’Challa took a deep breath.
“Riri, I swear to you, on my honor as king. Whatever my sister has promised, I’ll double it. Whatever she has threatened, I’ll protect against. But if this is a Girl Code Thing, I will strip you of your Exchange Student Status and banish you from the Nation of Wakanda until you’re forty.”
Riri broke at that, eyes wide in panic. “No! No, I’ll tell you! I’ll tell you!” The two men stared at her expectantly. “Well you see- so, I mean like relationships are tricky, I mean, especially between countries. And on land, actually-“ she cut herself off and waved her hands.
“No, forget that, lemme start over.” T’Challa nodded impatiently and M’Baku bumped her shoulder in a way that was probably supposed to be comforting. “So, you know how Namor and Princess Shuri have been meeting more often to discuss policies and country relations?” The men nodded. “Well, it turns out that Shuri and Namor have been working on something else secretly.” Her lips curled uncontrollably and she shook her head to straighten her face out.
“Before I tell you what, however, you have to know two things about Namor. He is almost immortal, yes, but he ages mentally like humans. He is mentally 27 right now. Not too far of a jump from Shuri’s 23.” Riri fixed the king with a pointed look but T’Challa merely motioned for her to continue. She restrained herself from rolling her eyes again. It wouldn’t do any real good.
“The second thing you need to know is that Namor’s near immortality comes with a cost other than dry skin.” T’Challa started at that. Allies they were, yes, but having another way to defeat the most powerful man on Earth was never too bad of a thing. “And this is going to sound wild, but just- just trust me. Namor turns fully mortal and ages normally the second he makes an everlasting oath with his soulmate.”
One could hear a pin drop.
At least until M’Baku let out a guffawing laugh and slapped the girl on the back. She stumbled slightly, almost falling into T’Challa, who sighed and rubbed the bridge of his nose.
“Riri, I am sorry to say it, but I fear you’ve been lied to. Or tricked or a victim of a bad joke. Who said this? Namor?”
Riri shook her head impatiently. “No, Shuri did! And it’s the truth, she swore it.”
“And how does she know?” T’Challa let a small smile play on his face. Perhaps this was all just a stupid prank from his sister, he had missed that side of her.
Riri rolled her eyes once more. “Because she swore an everlasting oath with him and now he’s mortal? Duh?”
T’Challa froze, his smile falling off his face in a split second. “That’s not funny.” He warned, but Riri showed no signs of kidding. “Riri, that’s not funny.”
“I’m not joking.”
T’Challa practically exploded, but M’Baku’s rough grip on his shoulder managed to ground him from his rare explosive rage. “Calm yourself, my king! Calm. The full story has not been revealed yet, and we must let it.” T’Challa nodded, in agreement and clapped M’Baku’s hand. His left hand was still fisted tightly, his nails digging into the skin.
“So you’re telling me that my sister is married to the same man that tried to kill us not even 6 months ago?” His voice remained steady, but the king was clearly teeming with rage and everyone in the room knew it.
Riri rushed to assure him. “No! No, they’re not married, I meant the oath on the beach about Talokan and Wakanda.” T’Challa sighed in relief before he ran Namor’s weakness back through his mind and visibly slumped.
“But they are still soulmates?” His voice was muffled by his hand, but it sounded very much like a plea.
Riri winced. “Yeah…”
“I am in all favor of killing the man if he tries to do anything that the Princess does not want, but I have to admit that a political marriage would help our relations very much.” M’Baku scratched his beard thoughtfully. T’Challa ground his teeth. Riri let out a snort of laughter at his statement, although neither leader was quite sure what she was laughing at.
“I wouldn’t say she doesn’t want it.” She muttered under her breath and T’Challa’s eyes bulged.
“Riri, take us to my sister right now.” The engineer bit her lip.
“I think that would be very awkward for all of us, if you know what I mean.” M’Baku felt his face heat up and he raised his gaze to the sky. He would never be able to see the Princess or Namor the same way again.
T’Challa’s eyes darkened. “I’m going to kill that winged bastard.”
“Could you wait until tomorrow? She promised she’d be back by breakfast and I honestly think it would be more funny if you confronted about it then instead of bursting in on your sister and her boyfriend having sex-“
“Sex?!” T’Challa finally exploded and he shook the girl in front of him violently. “What do you mean, sex?!” Riri carefully pried his hands off of her arms and stepped behind M’Baku, who was always a pretty useful shield. T’Challa didn’t even notice, the usually put-together king raking his hands across his face and muttering to himself about the dangers of pregnancy and young sex and gods and boys.
Riri let out an involuntary giggle and M’Baku elbowed her. “So I’m guessing that you didn’t know what I meant?”
T’Challa groaned into his clasped hands. “I thought you meant kissing! Shuri is still my kid sister, this is very, very weird!”
Riri shook her head. “Nah, man, they’re doing it.”
M’Baku let out a bark of laughter at the bluntness, but then narrowed his eyes at Riri. “How exactly do you know this, by the way?”
Riri shrugged. “She asked me to help her pick out which lingerie to wear.” T’Challa sobbed loudly. “Cuz I have really good taste. Especially with that sort of thing.” She winked at M’Baku and he pushed her head away.
“Gross. You’re supposed to be an innocent child.” Riri scoffed.
“Innocent child? Dude, I’m in college. People pay me to use my room for sex when I’m not there.”
M’Baku grimaced. “America is so weird. Don’t have sex. Ever.” He glared at her eye roll. “Now go away. ’ll join you for dinner later. Right now I have to fix the King of Wakanda.” He already felt exhausted. Riri followed his gaze and winced.
T’Challa had resorted to banging his head against the back of his throne.
Riri sucked on her teeth. “Ooh, yeah, good luck with that one.” She flounced out of the room like she hadn’t just caused the collapse of one of the greatest kings in Wakandan history.
M’Baku placed his hands on his hips and narrowed his eyes, determination taking the place of exhaustion. “Alright, your majesty, we need to come up with a plan.”
T’Challa looked up finally and took in M’Baku’s confident smirk. “A plan?”
“A plan to make fun of your sister, her fish boyfriend, and teach them a lesson all in one go.”
-
T’Challa wasn’t fully sure why exactly he listened to M’Baku. His plans usually turned out pretty ok, if a little crazy, but even the King had serious doubts on this one.
However, the food had been cooked, the people invited, and the trap set.
It was obnoxiously early for a banquet breakfast at 7:00am sharp, but it was Tuesday, which was in fact a holy and important day to the Wakandan people, so everyone invited was required to attend whatever the hell banquet time T’Challa requested.
Including T’Challa’s little sister and the man who was courting her.
In fact, they were extra required to attend, as barely anyone else was invited. His mother had opted out of going even after he told her his plans, still too sore to get out of bed for a 7 am breakfast on a Tuesday. She did make him promise to record it all though, which he felt was fair enough.
T’Chala sat at the head of the table and waited patiently, nibbling on a fried sweet potato every so often. Riri Williams was seated on his left, and M’Baku and Nakia on his right (They had opted out of bringing Toussaint, for fear that the discussion could turn a tad inappropriate at points). That left two empty chairs at the end of the table.
T’Challa had always hated that the head of the table had one big chair and the end of it had two (most definitely because his father had used the exact same tactic that he was pulling now on him and Nakia when they were younger), but now it served his purpose swimmingly.
At that moment, Shuri glided into the room and plopped down into her chair, looking utterly exhausted and quite ridiculous in the formal corset she’d thrown on over her night gown mere moments before. T’Challa grinned and raised his glass of Tamarind Cola obviously, a childhood favorite of his and Shuri’s, just to make her feel a little bit guiltier about lying and growing up.
Namor entered a few minutes after her, slightly out of breath and dripping wet, and T’Challa had to bite the inside of his cheek when Shuri realized who it was and her eyes nearly popped out of her skull. She motioned with her head violently and Namor could only shrug subtly in response. T’Challa could see why Riri had cracked so easily. This undercover thing was hard work.
Namor cleared his throat and thumped an x over his chest, and T’Challa stood and opened his hands in the Talokan show of respect. Then he smiled broadly, pushing to the side all thoughts of scooping the man’s intestines out with a melon baller. “Please, K’uk’ulkan, sit, relax. We are honored to have you here, but breakfast shouldn’t be too formal of an affair, yes?”
Namor nodded in agreement and took his seat next to Shuri, who jumped ever so slightly when he pushed his hair back and water dripped onto her. He winced slightly and apologized, but Shuri was quick to wave his worries away. “No, no, it’s alright, truly. Who was ever hurt by a little water anyways?” And Namor smiled at her as if she’d hung the stars in the sky. T’Challa’s grip on his glass tightened ever so slightly.
“I apologize for my delay, King T’Challa. It seems that if I’d forgotten what day this breakfast was set.” Oh how T’Challa wished to laugh in his face and tell him that he’d forgotten no such thing.
There had been no breakfast until M’Baku had sent a message to Attuma and Namora detailing everything. They had known that Namor was mortal now, but not why he was sneaking around them like a child. They had not been the most pleased to find out, and were incredibly eager to go along with the Wakandans’ plan, including making their king swim several hundred miles in mere minutes, at 6:50-something in the morning, after a very taxing night.
Instead the king merely nodded understandingly to Namor and desperately tried to keep an amused smile off of his face.
“I suppose the days must pass differently when you age with the decades, yes?” Namor subtly choked on his drink (water, T’Challa wasn’t that cruel), and nodded. Shuri looked outraged.
“Brother-!” She started but Namor waved a hand.
“No, he’s not wrong. I don’t take offense.”
T’Challa smiled politely at the fellow King. “Then we do not take offense to your tardiness.” He took another bite of sweet potato, his eyes never leaving Namor.
Through the entire breakfast T’Challa watched the Feathered Serpent God like a hawk. Namor was very good at hiding things, he realized, but if one already knows a secret then the curtain unravels quicker. He hid yawns behind bites of his Mandazi, subtle touches with Shuri behind the guise of wiping his hands on a napkin, and his concern about the concept of soup behind a multitude of questions on how cooking worked.
Actually, that one T’Challa might’ve just been reading into. The man seemed genuinely confused by the idea of cooked food. He didn’t seem to mind it though, which everyone let out a sigh of relief for.
But, eventually T’Challa caught what he was looking for and grinned. This part wasn’t in the plan, but T’Challa wanted to make his sister’s boyfriend squirm.
“K’uk’ulkan!” He gasped and everyone turned to him. “Your chest! Are you still hurt from your fight?”
Namor’s eyes widened and he looked down at his chest, part of which had been accidentally exposed when he reached to grab some food. “Oh, uh, yes. Yes, it appears so.” He stuttered. “The panther’s claws are a mighty enemy. One that I hope I won’t have to face again.” He nodded to himself, thrilled with his save, and adjusted his breastplate to re-cover the hickeys on his chest.
Shuri’s face was visibly heated, and she couldn’t look her brother in the eye.
T’Challa popped a bite of Mandazi in his mouth and winked at M’Baku, who rolled his eyes.
Fifteen minutes passed by and breakfast started to come to a close, at least until the servants came around again and placed two large platters with lids in front of Namor and Shuri. The two blinked at the plates, and looked around with apprehension, especially cautious because no one else had been given another plate.
T’Challa leaned forward and rested his chin on his intertwined fists.
Shuri caught his knowing look. “Brother, what’s going on?”
T’Challa simply smiled at her. “Relax, sister. Take the lid off and all will be revealed.”
Shuri scowled. “Cryptic asshole.” She muttered and T’Challa raised an eyebrow at her. She put up her hands in innocence and caught Namor’s fond smile out of the corner of her eye.
The two secret lovers reached to lift the lids up at the same time, until T’Challa interrupted.
“No, wait, K’uk’ulkan. Don’t open yours yet.” Namor set the lid down gently, glancing at Shuri in confusion. T’Challa bit back a smirk. “It’s a fun tradition for our people, nothing to be worried about. Shuri?”
His sister had narrowed her eyes at him and kept her hand unmoving on the lid handle. “What tradition is this again, brother?”
“A fun one.” T’Challa promised. “Now open it, we’re all waiting!”
Shuri kept her eyes narrowed at her brother and peered under the plate, not allowing anyone else to see. She glanced at her brother again and then back at the plate.
“I don’t understand.”
“Well, lifting it up entirely might help you see the bigger picture.” T’Challa pressed.
Shuri clicked her tongue and pulled the whole lid off, exposing the dish to everyone. Riri, Namor, and Nakia, two of whom had been somewhat informed but still didn’t know exactly what was going to happen, leaned forward to figure out what it was.
“It’s fish.” Shuri said plainly. Then she stood up to see it better and her eyes widened like saucers. T’Challa’s mischievous grin grew. Shuri screeched and slammed the lid back on top of the plate, practically breathing fire as she pointed a finger shaking with anger at her brother.
The King blinked innocently.
“I’m sorry, Shuri, I heard from a friend that you like eating Feather-Serpent Fish. Or is it just the specific one?”
On her plate had been some sort of bass cut into the shape of a snake and finished off with a two little feathers on the bottom.
Namor choked and pounded his chest, even though he wasn’t eating or drinking anything. Riri muttered “oh snap” and lifted her phone to record. It was immediately pushed down by Nakia with a disappointed stare. She pouted before the King’s wife pointed to the ceiling and Riri realized with a smirk that there were already cameras recording.
M’Baku and T’Challa shared a silent high five underneath the table.
“Riri!” Shuri yelled, finally realizing who T’Challa’s “friend” was. All heads snapped to the girl who was already halfway out of her seat and booking it towards the exit. Shuri genuinely looked like she was about to chase after her, but thankfully for T’Challa, she stopped when she heard Namor’s poorly muffled laughter.
Shuri whipped around to find her lover holding the lid of her breakfast and trying very hard to not laugh.
Shuri stomped his foot and motioned to the plate angrily.
“Oh, come on, Princess. The jig is up. Might as well laugh at the jokes.” Namor smirked slyly at her until she pinched his ear firmly. “Ah, ah akh ah akh akh akh!” He yelped until she let go and pouted in her seat, arms crossed.
“I’m sorry, Princess, I didn’t mean to offend.” He tried and she rolled her eyes but leaned against him. He was right. The jig was up. Might as well enjoy the aftermath.
T’Challa coughed into his fist, calling all attention to him.
“It occurs to me, K’uk’ulkan, that your plate remains covered.”
“What could you possibly have for him? Is it a tiara or something?” Shuri grouched.
T’Challa merely chuckled and rolled his shoulders back. “Oh no, he doesn’t get away that easily.”
Namor stilled. He was hundreds of years old and yet felt as small as a flea under his girlfriend’s brother’s gaze. T’Challa motioned at the untouched plate in front of him.
“Come on K’uk’ulkan, don’t be afraid.” So Namor slowly lifted the lid, hand shaking ever so slightly, and squinted in confusion.
“How bad is it? I don’t want to look?” Shuri moaned dramatically and T’Challa rolled his eyes.
“It’s a nut?” Namor replied, spinning it around in his hand. Was there a secret that he couldn’t see?
Shuri lifted her head in confusion. “What? What are you-“ her voice caught when she saw the nut, and Namor dropped it in concern when her eyes started to well with tears.
“What did you do to her? What is the purpose of this nut?” Namor asked lowly, glaring as he cast his gaze wildly around the table, looking for whatever poor soul made his love so unhappy.
Shuri flapped a hand at him uselessly and scoffed, a large smile growing on her face despite the tears. T’Challa finally gave in and returned her smile with a subtle eye roll.
“T’Challa, what kind of nut is on Namor’s plate?” Shuri asked, already knowing the answer.
T’Challa merely shrugged. “It’s a kola nut. If you don’t want it, I can take it back.”
“No!” Shuri snatched it off of Namor’s plate, who looked incredibly confused at the entire situation.
“Princess,” Namor began, and Shuri turned to him with those dark eyes that he could never say no to. “What exactly is happening?”
Shuri’s eyes shone as she relished in her joy. She didn’t even know where to begin. “The kola nut is traditionally given by the man, but, as you know, I’m a big fan of changing traditions.” Namor nodded, she definitely was.
Shuri licked her lips and held the kola nut out to her lover, who blinked at it before taking it in his hands. She didn’t let go, so his hands fit around hers. The rest of the table had disappeared from their minds and it was just the two of them. “The kola nut being given by my brother signifies that he has given us his permission.” She said breathily.
“You’re dragging this out.” He observed, hesitant. “Permission to what?” Shuri let go of the kola nut and kissed Namor on the nose as he took it fully.
“Permission to get married, idiot.” Namor blinked. And blinked again. And again. Then he turned to T’Challa and blinked some more. T’Challa nodded and a smug smile spread across his face.
Namor let out a laugh of disbelief before scooping his fiancée out of her chair smoothly and twirling her around the room. She cheered with him as he floated off the ground, and Namor stared into her glimmering eyes with pure, unmistakable joy.
“Alright, alright! Put my sister down now. Don’t you have your own kingdom to be a menace in?” T’Challa grumbled and sipped at his drink. Bast Above, now he’d actually have to put up with the stupid merman forever. Why did he ever let M’Baku talk him into it?
Then he caught a glimpse of his sister’s face and the familiar smile that he hadn’t seen in years, and he remembered exactly why.