Nashuri Collection (Namor x Shuri)

6 - 10

7. Puzzle Piece

She was such a lithe thing. Graceful and long like a ballerina. His big hands could envelop her whole waist. And she loved to lay her head in the crook of his neck – it was as if his Adonis body had been carved out to fit hers perfectly.

8. Joy

"What are these?" Shuri grinned. Talokan was like one huge fish tank. "This creature resembles a scyphozoa, but with all its internal organs outside of its body. Griot, zoom in and take a 360 picture."

"Yes, Princess Shuri!" Griot replied.

Namor looked almost confused. "Surely, you've seen fish, princess?"

"On the surface world, I don't know if this creature has been discovered. Many deep-sea creatures are lost to us due to limited human capabilities and technology. Talokan has remained untouched, so who knows what creatures are around you. I would love to talk to your scientists." Shuri continued, for once getting in his personal space. Warmth stirred in his gaze. Embers of gold and oranges seemed to glow in his dark eyes. "I'm a scientist, but I focus on biology the least. I've always been more inclined to chemistry because hello, explosions and other reactions! I want to take pictures of this. I want to study it." She was rambling on.

"Lovely."

"Huh?" she tilted her head.

He reached a hand to tip her chin. "Lovely to see what brings you joy."

"What brings you joy?" she asked while trying to will herself to push his hand away, then relenting. The cycle continued.

She saw the answer in his eyes.

9. Wakanda

Namor had seen few beautiful things in the years he had accumulated: his mother, the world before soulless colonization, enslavement, and racial genocides, jade jewelry, the Wakandan princess, their tethering, and his biggest love of all, Talokan.

But Wakanda in the daytime, with him as an invited guest and not an antagonist, was breathtaking. For one thing, the colors and the smells were vibrant. He had passed two outdoor markets already, marveling at the yards of fabric, food cooking, and locals haggling and sellers acquiescing. Little kids wavered between giggling at him or staring curiously. Only some adults showed fear.

Shuri looked at him knowingly with a sweet smile.

"You once showed me what you had to protect. Now, let me show you mine."

The exchange wasn't lost on him. She handed a pair of kimoyo beads to him, and he fastened them onto his wrist. His mother's bracelet was still adorned on hers. She grabbed his hand and led him through the streets.

10. Insomnia/Pillowtalk

They were in bed together. His to be specific. The hammock was confusingly contradictory. They were cramped, but it was large enough for two full-grown adults to move about. It was also comfortable. Her head was supported with soft pillows and her body was covered with a hand-knitted blanket.

If anything, Namor was shameless. It was said as you grew older, your confidence grew as well. With his situation, he was drowning in it. He knew that he watched her greedily.

Her eyelashes were so long. Her beautiful brown face was angular but soft somehow.

Shuri had a war within herself. Wanted to be close to him but was also repulsed. When their marriage alliance between Talokan & Wakanda had been sealed, she had dutifully signed. But nothing close to intimate had happened besides the clasping of their hands at the altar. She had made sure of it.

He no longer required as much sleep as a mortal, so he could only wonder how she kept tossing and turning. Many times, she kept brushing against his thigh. He had started to mentally count if only to keep focused on less sensual things.

During the day, she had so many questions for him, his people, or Talokan in general. And he didn't mind answering. But at night, she was almost silent, save for loud mortal breathing.

"Why do you wear that?" He tried to make conversation. He lay facing her, leaning on one arm. Namor pointed to her head.

"Hmm?"

"The hat."

"It's a bonnet. It protects my hair."

He tried once more.

"Why can you not sleep?"

"I'm talking to you, am I not?"

With this, she turned her back to him. The Talokan nightgown fit her beautifully but was becoming wrinkled with her insomnia. He wished he could've slowly and purposefully smoothed out the wrinkles with his hands. But he wanted her consent and desire first. Otherwise, it would only invite disdain and a fight.

"Why don't you call me by my name?"

"I do, Namor."

"My name. Not the filth of those colonizers."

"You said your people, those who love you call you K'uk'ulkan ... There's no love here with me." Her voice was clipped. The tired edge made her sound snappy when she was usually so reserved.

For a long time, both of them were quiet while he brooded.

Finally, he tried for the last time.

"Your brother—T'Challa, was it? Tell me about him."

He knew she was awake, but she gave no response.

"What was he to you?"

"Everything." Her back still turned, but her head shifted closer to him on their shared pillow.

"And your country? What is it from your eyes?"

Shuri lay on her back now, staring not at him, but at the ceiling.

"Wakanda is also everything. It's the music, it's the way the elders are tough but childish with their grandbabies, it's in the Wakandan football games that go all night, the yams so sweet your teeth hurt ..."

Namor didn't know how long she reminisced about her country before falling asleep in his arms.