Chapter Text
It was an open secret how Shuri and Namor inexplicably grew closer after the God King yielded to her. Rumor had it starting in Haiti. That their relationship grew for months before Shuri returned home. Back in Wakanda, she fully took on her duties as the new Black Panther while M’Baku remained king.
The tribes were politically split about the new alliance with the Talokanil. Half remained belligerent, the other half looking forward to healing. Nonetheless, there was initially no love lost between the surface dwellers and the sea folk. Not especially with the death of their beloved queen, Ramonda. While word traveled of how she sacrificed her life to save a gifted one of the Lost Tribe, it still didn't take away from Namor's role in it. But progress had to be made. Both sides lost far too much fighting each other instead of the true outside threat.
As an alliance treaty continued to be negotiated between Namor, M’Baku and the tribal council, social exchanges began taking place between the two nations. That meant sharing scientific information, how each country put vibranium to use, military training and general knowledge of various cultural practices.
So long as they didn’t cause trouble, the Talokanil were allowed to roam the Golden City. To everyone’s surprise, most of them assisted in repairing the damage caused by Namor’s attack. Meanwhile, Shuri’s increasingly advanced, vibranium infused, sleek diving suits had more and more Wakandans venturing into the underwater kingdom.
What better way to lead by example of mending relations than the sight of the new Black Panther and the God King out and about together?
Okoye still had her doubts.
She'd lost her queen along with many great warriors in the war. The Golden City was still undergoing reconstruction with thousands displaced. Their kingdom, so isolated for centuries from the prying eyes of the world, was now thrown together to work with these mysterious people from the depths of the ocean. A nation who they fought nearly to the death. All while danger from the colonizers grew due to their greed for precious vibranium.
It was no wonder Okoye felt utterly unmoored nearly half a year after all that passed. That she finalized her divorce from her traitor husband only a few weeks ago didn't help. No matter how her anger towards him cooled to utter antipathy, W'Kabi would always be a part of her past.
She wasn’t even a Dora Milaje anymore. Rather, a Midnight Angel. It initially felt like a demotion. That was until Shuri insisted the Angels would be under her exclusive authority as the new Black Panther’s guard.
King M'Baku agreed, trusting the protection of the Dora Milaje. He also declared that he found the Angel suits "Bedeviled and full of far too much of that child's tech." Except when he called Shuri 'child,' it was said with the deep affection of an older brother. Completely absent of the scorn he showed her back when he challenged T'Challa for the role of the Black Panther.
It seemed they all lived in a whole new world entirely. Now, Okoye had to look forward to an uncertain future.
Okoye was interrupted from her thoughts by the knock on the doors of the training room she practiced in. Located in the barracks area of the palace, it was well away from the political chatter of the newly refurbished throne room that she’d come to avoid. No more of such things for her.
Alone, she currently tested out a new vibranium spear Shuri asked of her. A blend of Wakandan and Talokanil designs, even Okoye had to admit its advancement out did her personal spear she'd relinquished to the queen.
Wiping her forehead with the back of her hand, she thumped the end of it on the ground in reply to the interruption. "Come in!" she called out.
The large, double doors opened to reveal Ayo.
Okoye expected the new general to lead in the usual Dora Milaje recruits. Their numbers exploded after the war with Talokan due to young women throughout the kingdom signing up en masse. It did not affect the quality of the guard. If anything, it improved it since they had such a large selection to pick from. The same occurred with recruitment to the Midnight Angels. In fact, Okoye had a few hours to go before heading to the new training room near Shuri’s lab to run the Angels recruits through their exercises.
Except that was not who sauntered in at Ayo's heels.
It was him. The blue hammerhead who taunted her on that infernal bridge. The creature from the deep that cost her so much. The one she paid back in kind on the Sea Leopard with a swift kick hurtling him into the ocean where he belonged.
Okoye only knew his name due to his brief introduction at a dinner roughly a week ago to welcome a new crop of Talokonil to the surface for more research. He sat to the left of Namor at the long table on the dais in one of the state dining rooms of the palace. The one called Namora remained on the king’s right. Her shrewd eyes constantly darted around the room with heavy suspicion. Yet by the end of the night, she was drawn into conversation with Aneka.
By Bast, that Dora Milaje could break through anyone’s guard. No wonder Ayo loved her so.
With dinner done, the real festivities began. By sunset, dancing and drinking spilled out into the warm air of the veranda. The palace’s location on the riverfront allowed the Talokanil to feel more comfortable. A few braver Wakandans even swam out into the river to directly join their new allies. They treaded the water, the Talokanil politely keeping their heads above it to chatter back and forth.
Regardless, Okoye avoided direct engagement with Attuma. No matter how he seemed to hover at the corner of her eye at every turn. Or trail in her shadow like some hulking annoyance as she made the required rounds of conversation. Did he not realize how ridiculous he looked trying to blend in? It wasn’t as though she could miss him in the crowd. The man stood as tall and massive as the Jabari snowcapped mountains.
Now, here he was directly in front of her.
His skin retained its usual pale azure tint his people carried here on the surface. Regally perched upon his head was the hammerhead shark headdress. Though this time, he didn't wear his vibranium infused armor of shark bones and horseshoe crab pauldrons. He appeared to wear more formal court dress.
Wrapped about one wide shoulder with a band cutting across his bare chest was a heavily woven cloak of sunny yellow. It fell nearly to his ankles with its black and white patterned edges that matched the chest band. The embellishments were wide, flat, delicately rendered green jade carvings of the feathered serpent god and green and gold horn. The cloak revealed most of his torso, along with the double rows of shark teeth markings on his abdomen. Okoye could only assume it was done as a type of ritual scarification.
Each bicep was adorned with an armlet of the bleached jawbone of some sort of large fish while dusky grey sharkskin bracers covered his forearms. His dark, terracotta colored loincloth wrapped about his waist contained a long slash that fell between thickly corded, muscled thighs. It was brocaded down the front in the same yellow and turquoise as his cloak, its edges also embellished.
Inky black, curling hair fell regally down his shoulders. Various strands if it were decorated with delicate jade beads in lines of abstract patterns. Woven brown sandals with green tasseled anklets above them clinked with each step due to the shells and gold beads hanging from them.
However, his rebreather mask bore no decoration. Clear, it was far easier to make out his expression since his mouth was plainly visible.
She wasn’t sure if he grinned at her with the way the corner of his lips twitched upward. At the same time, there was no mistaking how his velvety black gaze slowly swept over her. She would have called it appreciative had she not been on her full guard. After all, they nearly killed each other.
Twice.
Ayo glanced between them as she greeted Okoye. After short pleasantries of catching up, she reiterated how as part of their overall exchange, the Dora Milaje would train newer Talokanil soldiers alongside their own recruits. The Talokanil in turn agreed to share their weapons and tactics.
The new general then nodded in Attuma's direction. “I thought it would be a good gesture to show the Talokanil our facilities before we officially begin our trainings together in the next fortnight.”
“I give thanks for your warm welcome to all of this, General,” Attuma’s accented voice replied through his kimoyo beads translating around his wrist.
Shuri designed them to be jade colored with gold glyphs printed on them in their Yucatec Maya language for any of the Talokanil who wanted them. She also advanced the AI specifically in the translators so the speaker’s voice translated out into the necessary language. It made conversations sound more personal than hearing everything through GRIOT.
“We are grateful for your continued efforts as well, Attuma of Talokan” Ayo nodded to him. “In the meantime, I shall give you two some time to talk and familiarize yourselves as allies versus…before.”
"I can see why you thought that would be a good idea," Okoye sarcastically replied.
If Ayo smirked, it was only for a few seconds. Next to her, Attuma lowered his eyes and brought his hands upwards in the open salute Okoye now recognized as a greeting from his people. Ayo granted both of them the Wakandan salute before he murmured his thanks again. With that, the general left the room, the door sliding closed behind her.
It was the first time the two of them were alone together. Okoye was glad for the high, tiled, light orange walls capped with the vaulted, domed skylight of the ceiling. It let the brightness of the sun stream down. It also made the hexagonal shaped room feel bigger, managing his immense stature.
"Ix ba'ate'el," Attuma’s rumbling voice declared, still openly eying her.
"Warrior," his kimoyo beads translated. The very same thing he taunted her with on the hilltop when his people flooded the capital.
"Shark," Okoye firmly retorted with a defiant raise of her chin.
She certainly wasn't expecting to be met by his chuckle. A surprisingly easy noise of amusement pulled from the depths of his throat.
Reflexively gripping her spear more tightly, she still didn’t allow her back to him as he sauntered forward to begin slowly circling her. It reminded her of how he did the same during their first encounter on that infernal bridge. A predator reading the patterns of his prey before destroying it.
She was no one's to eat.
Apparently satisfied with his observation, he came to a standstill back in front of her. A few arms’ length away but still within striking distance. She straightened herself to her full height. He still towered over her.
Interesting, the way his cheeks dimpled as he suddenly grinned. Though it was done with the sharpness of the very animal that made up his headdress.
“Okoye.” He said her name like he was leisurely rolling every letter slowly on his tongue. “I believe that is the first time you have crossed my lips.”
The dimples deepened at how she narrowed her eyes and the corners of her plush mouth turned downward. It did nothing to detract from her beauty, he quickly decided.
“Attuma,” she tightly said.
Tilting his head back a bit, he rubbed his chin. “I find that my name upon your mouth sounds no place better.”
“What do you want?” she retorted.
“You,” he shrugged, grin still in place.
Okoye rolled her eyes. “To fight me again, you mean? Did we not settle this upon the sea? Ah, yes, when I kicked you back into it.”
Attuma crossed his arms at the same time his gaze deliberately traveled down her and back up. Brazen, it caused something heated to stir in the pit of her stomach. She refused to focus on it. The same way she tore her eyes from the obvious strength of his beefy forearms. Instead she settled for lightly tapping the bottom of her spear into the mat. She wasn't going to ask her question again.
"I wish to spar," he finally answered. Throwing his broad shoulders back in challenge, he commanded, "We will begin our engagement anew."
She arched a brow. "To the death?"
She wasn't expecting his affronted look. "I have no reason to kill an ally," he sniffed in offense, "I simply wish to learn from your ways of battle so that we may destroy the surface dwellers together."
"Except I too am a surface dweller, shark man."
He shook his head in disagreement, the bones of his headdress clacking together as his dark eyes burned into hers. "You are unique among them. All of the people of your nation are, as I have seen. Which is why I will take my lessons from you. I wish to spar," he repeated.
A long silence fell between them as she warily eyed him from across the room. What exactly was he playing at. Murder?
Eh, Namor didn’t seem the type to surround himself with generals careless enough to cause such a diplomatic incident. It didn't fit into being acutely strategic and risked another war. At the same time, her shoulder still started to itch at the memory of how the shark man brutally dislocated it when he whipped her into the staff of his scythe. She’d learned a tough and painful lesson that night.
Then again, she could use something to take out her frustrations on. Who better than him? He volunteered, after all.
Finally, Okoye called out, "GRIOT?"
"Yes, general?"
She flinched at how the AI addressed her by her old rank stripped from her. At the hands of the very one she currently faced. She swore she told Shuri to update GRIOT's settings months ago.
"I am just ‘Okoye’ now in light of the fact that I no longer hold that rank," she flatly ordered. Attuma's eyes slightly widened, though he made no comment.
There was a pause before GRIOT replied, "Understood, Okoye."
"Otherwise, engage the door lock."
As soon as the locks slid into place, the air in the room seemed to shift. For from one heartbeat to the next, Okoye suddenly had to crane her head up in order to take in Attuma standing directly in front of her. Glittering black eyes lined with surprisingly long lashes inspected her in return. They bore a warmth in them she’d never witnessed in their previous interactions. Nevertheless, she refused to budge from where she stood in the center of the mat.
"Additionally, GRIOT," she continued, gaze locked with his, "Set the room to privacy protocols. No audio or video recording, though continue to monitor our vitals."
"It is done, Okoye."
She snapped her head in the direction of the row of spears lined up in their rack along the wall. "I think I can take a few minutes to beat you.”
A flash of heat washed across his face. Apparently, the Talokanil blush appeared as a lavender wash across their azure cheeks.
He swiftly spun on his heel to retrieve a weapon while speedily shucking off his cloak. Carefully setting down her prototype weapon in the opposite corner of the room, Okoye grabbed a spear from the wall as well. She pretended not to notice the way his arm flexed as he gracefully whisked the spear through the air to test its balance. Tossing it from hand to hand caused the muscles of his chest to lightly ripple with effort.
Certainly not distracting at all.
Glancing at the rack, she saw that he’d picked the heaviest one. Since these were for practice, their heads were fully blunted. That in turn caused them to be more weighted than a fully bladed one. It also meant hits would land harder.
So be it.
Okoye gave her spear an experimental twirl, its weight settling comfortably in her hands. “Should I be wearing a diving suit for this?” she tossed out.
“Of what do you speak?” Attuma stared down his covered nose at her, "Besides, are you not wearing a suit right now?"
Like on the bridge, she was clad in a bodysuit that left little to the imagination of her sleekly muscled form. Its sapphire-colored circular patterns glimmered with stripes of gold swooping around her curves. He imagined running his hands along the pebbled fabric before ripping it off of her. Burying himself in her throbbing, welcoming heat while he sucked hot, open-mouthed kisses to the graceful column of her throat. Oh, how she'd howl out his name as he brought her over the edge.
His cock twitched. Spinning his weapon with a flourish, he grabbed its center to stand at attention. Anything to not lose concentration as she let out a brittle laugh.
“You deny how you hip-tossed one of your infernal water bombs right into me?” Okoye huffed.
He shrugged, “I would change nothing of our first bout.”
She smirked. “Yet it seems that’s all you’ve thought of, considering your eagerness to continue our combat.” She didn’t expect his eyes to slightly widen at that.
Cocking his head to the side, he brought up a hand and firmly pointed at her. “Enough words, warrior. Come, it is time to spar,” he pounded the end of his spear into the mat. The indulgent smile under his rebreather was unexpected as he smugly declared, “I grant you the first strike since I am a guest in your kingdom.”
She couldn’t help the chortle that escaped her as she drew back her arm to balance the edge of her spear on her palm for impending attack. “I don’t need your pity, shark man. Whenever you are ready, eh?”
He always opened with terrifying swings of ruthless strength. All to stun and intimidate his opponent. Especially since he proved able to do it just one-handed. It allowed him to use his free arm to strike at the same time. As she learned so well from before, his size detracted nothing from his momentum. If anything, his honed muscle granted him deadly velocity.
The key was to avoid connection with his brutal hits since they wrung too much out of her. Better to stay low, let him tire out and then push past his defense for body shots. That was as close as she’d allow herself to get to him. Because if he crowded her in, she’d be trapped by his immense stature.
It thrilled her. Knowing that she didn't have to hold back, that he could take her hardest.
Whirling her spear around with an aggressive pirouette increased her own speed. She refused to let him back her up. Striking fast but with with less swings than he pulled, she allowed him to expend more of his energy trying to match her fluidity. As soon as his swings began to lose accuracy, she unleashed the spin of her spear to dart under his high reach. Her weapon whacked against his knees before curving upward in a staccato of strikes to his upper and lower back. It should have sent him to the ground.
Except his burly physique could easily stand more.
He swayed for only a split second. Swiveling around to face her, he snatched out and captured the end of her spear with a pleased grunt. Hauling her forward into him had her dragging her heels against the mat in resistance. It did her no good. He just dropped his own weapon to jerk her towards him even harder. He didn’t even flinch when she finally let go to get in a bone-rattling punch to his jaw. Instead, he shoved her own staff into her chest so hard she swore she heard her heart rattling in her ribcage as he sent her hurtling backwards to the floor.
“Get up, warrior,” he ordered, pounding the end of her spear into the mat.
Despite her groan of pain, she balled her fist at her side. “What else would I do?” she retorted, already nearly back on her feet.
“Perhaps not lose to me so easily?”
His smile under his rebreather irritated her enough to duck around him.
He was on her immediately. Stalking her, he chased her down all the way around the room. A swift flick of his spear caught her in his downward swipe. Her shoulder blade burned at the punch of contact and she stumbled forward. Wildly looking behind her, her fingers scrabbled for purchase at his spear he tossed away when he took hers.
Snatching it up just in time and bracing it horizontally above her head with both hands, her torso shuddered at the force of him smashing down his spear into hers. He went in again only to be met by empty air. For she rolled away and scrambled to her feet.
The high-pitched sound of vibranium slicing through air as she rapidly twirled her weapon was his only warning as he lurched forward at her wallop to his stomach. A spin on his heel and he faced her. She met him with a nonchalant wave. It was then he realized that this was his first time seeing an actual, full smile grace her face.
It was glorious.
He didn’t let her down. Dashing forward, he purposely overshot her. It allowed him to zig-zag his staff with rapid drives as he darted around her perimeter. The flurry of stabs coming from all directions were meant to overwhelm before thrusting the spearhead through her side. Had it been truly bladed, it should have filleted her through the stomach.
She was faster, only suffering a glancing blow to her hip as she sidestepped around him. Ignoring the sting of it, she vaulted back and feinted left, causing him to go right. Except she fully intended to go right. Strikes to both sides of his ribs as he raised his arm for a hit to her rewarded her with his wounded snort.
Backing off, his shoulders heaved with effort. She was covered in sweat, breath coming out in short spurts.
He lifted his chin, words low and guttural behind his rebreather. “The first time we crossed arms, I deemed you unworthy of my weapon."
"Someone has a rather high opinion of themselves," she shot back.
"You resorted to trickery to strike at me,” Attuma hummed as he whirled his spear in front of himself. At her rolled eyes, he let out a dark chuckle. “You kicked me in le wóolol and nearly ripped out my gills with a bare hand."
“My tactics are why I’m here now,” Okoye casually retorted.
“Your tactics held no honor," he leveled an irked look at her.
Her sweet lips curled with derision. “Keep your honor for the dead.”
"You are merciless," he slyly retorted, hauling his spear above his head in a one-handed swipe into her.
Thrusting her spear out sideways, she caught his leaded swing. The tip of his end smashed down to the center of her staff. Vibranium singing, the force of it reverberated through her arms before she dodged out of reach of his other hand. He tried once again to seize the end of her spear to wrench it from her.
She wasn’t going to fall for that one a second time.
She instead spun her weapon away from him and slammed its bottom towards his foot where he lunged at her. A swift twist of his leg avoided her contact but forced him on the defense.
She sprinted at him with a flurry of snaking strikes. A burst of power and precision cracked against his spear with each blow. He couldn’t stop his retreat until he purposely swung back and disengaged only to reel his spear in the opposite direction to try to knock her back. She didn’t take the bait, dropping to a squat at the last second and slicing across his thighs. Thankfully the spearhead’s blunted edge didn’t cut through skin. He still staggered back with a groan through gritted teeth.
Slowly standing up to his full height, he rubbed at his bruised thigh before meeting her eyes. She refused to acknowledge how his hooded gaze shamelessly sweeping over her left her feeling reckless. His grin only added to it. She instead settled for shooting him a scornful smile where she remained crouched at the edge of the mat.
“I’d say whipping my shoulder into your scythe paid back that debt,” she held her spear in both hands and angled it sideways, preparing for his strike.
“Hmm,” was all he managed to grunt out on account of her feral smile going straight to his groin.
By the gods, his warrior undid him. The blood rushed hot in his veins as she wrenched back the jarring pivot of his spear. It allowed her to swiftly jerk her own upwards against his with a minor snort of effort.
Sparks flew where vibranium scratched against vibranium due to her purposely locking their spear heads together along their blunted grooves. Not expecting it, he attempted to dislodge it with a hard yank of his arm. His brute strength usually easily took care of such problems.
It was a mistake. For all it did was shift his weight off center as she planted her feet to lock the spears in place even more. His split second of recovery let her slide like liquid under both shafts of their weapons while a knowing jolt of her wrist dislodged them. The opening had her ducking and whirling her spear around her neck for a dangerous arc. It smashed into his side, hurtling him backwards.
Okoye admired how it wasn’t nearly enough to throw him to the floor. Nonetheless, she’d never let an advantage slip through her fingers.
Hauling around to face her, he hoisted his arm upward to lash his weapon back out at her. Except it was a wild strike as he regained his footing. It gave her plenty of time to twitch her lithe form away.
Avoiding contact with his staff allowed her to hook a graceful leg around his calf while the upper part of her weapon cracked across his solar plexus. The air rushed from his lungs, his fingers reflexively spasmed around his spear enough for her to knock it from his grip. Since he was already falling backwards, she used the direction of his force to bash his legs out from under him.
He crashed down to the mat with a heavy thud. Yet he struck out a massive leg and kicked her behind the knees.
Even as she lost her balance, she purposely drove her spear point down towards his neck. It forced him to roll away as she stabbed into the mat with a clang. Bracing herself along its staff, she vainly tried to kick away his hand roughly encircling her ankle. He yanked her towards him with it while his other hand attempted to snatch her weapon from her as she was propelled forward over him.
She met him with the crack of her elbow into his face, loosening his rebreather. His head snapped back with a snarl and he was forced to let go of her leg.
It sent her sprawling. At the same time, the sharp thrust of her knee aimed for his crotch. Distracted with protecting his groin, he missed how she yanked her spearhead out of the mat. Before he could recover, the heavy weight of its staff was pressed into his neck.
“Yield,” she huskily ordered, gaze sparkling with victory. When he said nothing, she pushed her weight into the staff even harder.
He may have lay defeated. But she now sat on top of him, straddling his hips and with her knees squeezing his sides.
He felt lightheaded. Though not on account of his rebreather being askew. Nor the pressure on his throat. Rather, the way her chest heaved, gulping in lungfuls of air as sweat glistened along her golden, bronzed skin. It sent his mind reeling about other activities that would render him the same result.
She was magnificent.
And just like that, Attuma knew he had her right where he wanted her.