Chapter Text
The Citadel, Birnin Zana
She stands before the mirror in her ceremonial garb, jaded and bejeweled. The last time Shuri stood in the waters of Warrior Falls, she lost a piece of herself over the cliff. The thought of then having to sit in the throne room, that has been hallowed and defiled by family ghosts, makes her sick in a way no herb will cure. The memory/hallucination/nightmare of Erik Stevens, as ruler and as revenant, refuses to leave her Heart Shaped Herb hopped mind. Her fingers twitch toward her wrist habitually, hoping Griot has something wrong in the lab that she can fix.
“Princess, Lord M’Baku has arrived.”
Shuri’s train of thought steams past the first time they met, when he challenged her brother and called her a child, then on the frozen mountaintop, then the next and the next. One brainwave separates, observing every interaction she’s ever had with the Great Gorilla, and the idea is planted, germinated and bloomed before the echo of her mother has a chance to scold her for even considering it.
“Send him in.”
She starts undoing the beads at her neck.
“You had better not be thinking of wearing those pajamas to your coronation.”
“Not my coronation. Yours. And I’m not going.”
She hears Ayo and Aneka gasp. M’Baku at least doesn’t seem surprised.
“You saw what was best for Wakanda, you understand my brother’s will.” She straightens her spine as she feels Queen Ramonda’s power slip into her voice. “You have shown who you are. The Black Panther will protect our people, M’Baku of the Jabari, of Wakanda. But I can’t do it from the throne.” So please don't ask me to sit where she did before it killed her.
M’Baku crosses his arms in salute.
Childish relief suffuses her and she hugs him, even though the fur is really itchy.
-
Wakandan Design Group
It takes barely any time for Shuri's wounds to heal, so she takes advantage of not being a princess (although no one seems to care because they still call her Princess, but she definitely has moments when someone says 'Black Panther' and she thinks her brother is here and... What the hell, she's already used to Princess) to hide in her lab and make Griot reject all her calls.
Being alone with her thoughts isn't exactly a comfort though.
It's one thing for Shuri to force a desperate man/god to yield with the promise of alliance. It's a whole other kettle (griddle?) of fish for her to actually plan out how you do that.
The idea of having Talokanil in Wakandan water... again, is not objectionable per se but she's not precisely comfortable with it either. With how much effort it took to battle Namor to a hairsbreadth victory and how close everyone on the Sea Leopard was to dying, she can't make any missteps.
She is the daughter of King T'Chaka and Queen Ramonda. She will fulfill the promise she made.
But she's also a scientist and still a scared little girl at heart.
So first, start with what you know.
- Namor is not a god.
His blood on her claws showed that. The story he told can't be proven, but as Bast led Bashenga to the Heart Shaped Herb, so did Chaac lead that shaman to the one underwater. It is a heartbreakingly terrible truth that such plants do not grant immortality. Everything Namor has bestowed upon his civilization is based on vibranium technology, not divine gifts, though without seeing anywhere but the bottom of the ocean, how would they even know?
- His people worship him as one anyway.
Probably. See counterpoint #1 for a chance that maybe he's dealing with an uprising and can't be bothered with Wakanda right now. Unlikely given that all his warriors dropped their weapons at his command, but it would be kind of nice to not deal with this for a while. Although an uprising could also be a problem in itself. She's already dried out Namor once and she doubts he will go back on his word, but if there is a rebellion and they decide to come for her country, it's not practical to outfit the entire population with Midnight Angel armor.
- His
peoplewarriors have the strength and healing of a Black Panther.
The handmaidens... The ones who fought on the bridge and the ship shook off crippling blows like warthogs in dirt. Not impenetrable, but since vibranium weapons cancel out on both sides of the equation, the only leg up Wakanda has is its science. And air.
Got it.
They can only surface with the breathing apparatus, and don't sing when it's on.
Simplest solution is supercooling the water within the apparatus, turn it to ice and force them back under. There's bacteria that consume the oxygen in water leaving nothing for the wildlife, but she wouldn't ruin the ecosystem for this.
Maybe an explosive that releases a desiccant.
Impractical but hilarious would be a gelatin bomb. Salt versus freshwater was a nonissue, but if it's not actually the consistency of water anymore...
The buzzing of brainwaves generating ideas is a soothing chorus that allows the fear of her new neighbors to ebb away. Now that she's humanized them (as close as one can), Shuri is able to actually take in and process information regarding diplomatic outreach.
It's a very good thing she's not the speech-giving kind of princess. Unlike her mother, she will not be compared to the likes of Winston Churchill and Dr. Martin Luther King.
'The path to peace starts with smoked fish, and finishes with pudding-coated merman. Served with an excellent Sauvignon Blanc.'
If there is to be an embassy, it will have to be a lake, since they really can't have them in the river, getting in people's way. Translators for Ancient Mayan. Some method of written communication that's not electronic or prohibitively wasteful.
Finally, finally she loses herself to the work. As long as she has work, she can ignore sorrow.
-
"Princess, the King is here."
In the moments her fogged mind needs to collect itself, M'Baku is already in front of her, holding a girl in his arms. Two sets of Dora line the room. What's new are the men interspersed among them. Their furry gauntlets look ridiculous in her lab.
"Get out."
The guards don't move, and Shuri realizes the meaty finger is pointing at her.
"What?"
"You are shriveled like a carrot in winter. I will not have it. Get out."
Her eyes flash with defiance, which is all too obvious to the king. He sets his daughter on the floor, and she pounces on Shuri's arm and starts pulling.
Shuri resigns herself to standing up. The third in a series of surprises today is that she faints before she's fully on her feet.
-
She brings her funeral clothes to the river because in the moment, it makes complete sense to complete the ritual her mother wanted to do.
When she gets there though, she can't.
The smell of silt, the blackened remains of kindling.
Every time the water murmurs, waves ruffling on their way to the ocean, it sets her teeth on edge.
She understands fluid mechanics, hydrodynamics, the water cycle. She knows that there are fish and crocodiles and hippos and any number of things that also live in the water.
Does. Not. Matter.
It is with something between joy and rage that she grinds the wood into ash under her heel until every iota is small enough to be blown away by the wind, takes each stone she and her mother had arranged and hurls them, one by one, as hard as she can into the insufferably noisy river.
The white dress remains untouched.
Wakanda University
"Prin- Shuri."
"What is it, Ayo?" Shuri doesn't look up from the blueprint she is working on, but she at least puts down her pencil.
"I have a request. A suggestion." Ayo doesn't need to signal anything before the other Dora Milaje clear the room for them, so clearly this has been brewing for some time. "Do you... remember the treatment path we provided Sergeant Barnes?"
"If I could put myself in a coma and have someone reprogram me, I'd have already done it."
Ayo goes to one knee. "After that. He had to hear the words to know they could not control him."
Shuri grips the table, breaking it immediately. Ironic for a girl whose mind is the thinnest glass right now. "You want me to confront the man who murdered my mother and try not to rip his wings off again and force them down his throat?"
"No, Princess." It's barely more than a whisper, wracked with anguish. "Not your mother."
-
The Raft, Atlantic Ocean
“Your Highness.”
Helmut Zemo bows as if they are in a grand ballroom where courtly manners are expected.
“Baron.”
The two women flanking Princess Shuri of Wakanda have nothing in their hands nor adorning them. Raft protocols. But just because she prefers to keep her nanites in jewelry doesn’t mean that’s the only trick she knows. Ayo and Yama adjust their stance, their fingers poised over the raised embroidery on their uniforms.
“You have my sincerest condolences, Princess.”
And it sucks, because it’s true. She can see it. Grief overwhelms her, and she has no control of it.
“My father was just… a side effect of your war. You truly are sorry for my pain, but how do I accept that?” Her lip wobbles as the words start spilling out. “You know exactly how it feels, don’t you? All your family leaving you. Nothing to be done but burn everything. I know who you blame, but no one actually- do you have any idea how awful it is when you see it happen and know it was deliberate?” When he did it specifically to break you?
Shuri takes a stabilizing breath before she gives away too much.
“My brother held our father as he... and all he wanted was justice from you. I couldn't. Many times I hoped you were being eaten alive by rats."
"A natural response. There was a period when I also wished the late king were not so gracious."
She stares at him, fingers flexing into claws, but she doesn't move a toe toward the glass separating them. It is an eternity until she is able to calm the raging fire and meet his gaze. "I have an idea of your resources. I appreciate that you chose to go back to prison willingly.”
“I do think your ladies were a little disappointed by it.” His self-deprecating grin invites an easing of the tension. It doesn’t work, but a little part of her appreciates the effort.
"T'Challa spared you, not just that, he saved you. I'd wondered why for the longest time. Did he want to torture you, force you to live alone with your pain? That seemed too cruel for my brother, but it turns out my family is no stranger to cruelty. I know he didn't do it for me, but here I am and I'm actually relieved you're not insane with heartbreak."
"Ah, that worn out platitude, 'time heals all wounds'. Don't let my charming self fool you, Highness, I'm afraid it's not true."
"I know. I feel better anyway. Thanks for your time." She leaves without looking back.
"I heard you've been banished from the lab."
"Who says?"
"Okoye. She also complained that the King refused to reinstate her as a general unless she grows her hair." Nakia tries to draw out a laugh but doesn't persist. "I'd like you to come to Haiti. I wish I could have stayed longer to help you but... please, we need you to come here."
The flight to Haiti is several hours alone with herself and the blue sky out the window. Her mind inevitably drifts to Namor’s false sun and the innocent wonder she had felt. When there wasn’t a problem to be solved or a thing that needed to be improved, where she could simply appreciate another culture, another inventor without also thinking of their weapons, their bigotry, the threat they might pose to her people. It was a lovely moment, however short-lived. Science and history have taken her faith, just as life has taken her love.
Of course she pulled apart a 500 year old artifact and used it to synthesize a miracle. Of course she looked upon a god and treated him like beef jerky. The girl who bartered with Bast, her worthless belief for her brother's life.
Of course the Ancestral Plane rejected her.
-
Toussaint has his father’s smile. The hole in her heart fills and empties endlessly with the memories she has only just come to terms with.
Somehow in the turbulent cascade, mischief sparks in Shuri. The little demon that used to film the Crown Prince of Wakanda with soup in his hair or greeting the floor with his face emerges. She waits until her nephew is in bed before sidling up to Nakia.
“He’s not a prince. Not now. So you don’t have to stay here. You can go back to Wakanda and live like peasants on our home soil instead.”
Nakia fixes her with the look that always made T’Challa freeze up.
“I abdicated. The Monkey Tribe musclehead has probably redecorated the palace by now. So there won’t be any royal pressure or etiquette training for Toussaint. Just a bunch of overexcited aunties with spears who will happily train your son to lead a coup and overthrow the king of the most powerful country in the world. On land.”
It takes a second for the rest of her to catch up with her smart mouth, and when it does, she chokes back a sob.
Nakia holds her. “That black tongue is why they called you ‘little giraffe’, my sister.”
What should be a painful barb of her father’s teasing and her brother’s stolen years is instead a warm reminder that she was so loved in her life.
-
Toussaint shows her how to build a sandcastle. All he has is a plastic bucket and his father's determination.
They've built it as high as his waist when Nakia summons them in for food.
It's the middle of the afternoon when Shuri comes back to retrieve the blanket.
In her head, she knows how high tide works. In her stomach, chicken and rice and a flooding river churn.
She vomits lunch and barely scabbed wounds.
The ocean recedes implacably, taking the sandy turrets with it.
-
“Tell me a story about baba!” Toussaint’s wide eyes are innocent and inexorable. Shuri is caught in what feels like a century-long heart attack until Nakia offers her an exit.
“Tell him of the curious monkey. Captain America is his favorite.”
Shuri relaxes, swaying a little with the rhythm of the story teller, and lets the tale her baba told her unfold from her memory.
“My grandfather Azzuri, your great-grandfather, was born between two great wars. They said he had the stars in his eyes and a heart as vast as the sea that knows no borders. When he was still a prince and wandering panther, he found a monkey, curious and clever, on Wakanda’s border. The monkey had a brilliant mind and skillful hands, but he was arrogant and thought himself noble and powerful like a lion. So he did not realize that the young man was of the Golden Tribe, and happily shared how he would be the one to find the secret within Wakanda. As clever as the monkey was, our ancestors were not stingy with the panther prince’s brains either. He had his people seek out an ugly rock and hide it in a wasteland far from the Great Mound. He spun the monkey a lie of the finest spider-silk: the gods had battled, lighting the sky with fire until Qamata cut the head off his brother and cast it to the earth. Nothing dared to grow in the soil that had been tainted and no man was to set foot on the unholy place for fear of the gods renewing their war. Of course, the monkey did as monkeys will do, and he found the wasteland after many days, and he dug up the ugly rock with much effort, and he scurried home with his stolen prize, thinking himself a mighty hunter. Do you know what was in the rock?”
Toussaint bobs his head so eagerly, she’s a little afraid it will fall off.
“The monkey was delighted with his new toy, and learned, as the ancestors once did, the nature of Wakanda’s secret, how to refine and shape it. But he never felt the web that trapped him. The arrogant monkey bragged about his adventure, boldly telling the world how his was the only such treasure. Others also searched the wasteland and found nothing so they agreed that there could not be any more. Do you think he was a stupid monkey?”
Her nephew nods with a smile.
“Do you think he was a bad monkey?”
He nods again, with a furrow of his brow.
“My grandfather didn’t think so, and that’s what he told my father, who told it to my brother and me. The prince had learned more after the stranger left, that he had made many wonderful things before coming to Wakanda, with just his own mind and hands. He wasn’t sad at all that he only found one ugly rock, and he found a purpose for it eventually. He made his treasure into a shield and gave it freely to a good and golden protector instead of keeping it for himself.”
Shuri doesn’t speak the second part of the story. That as enamored as King Azzuri was with Howard Stark’s innovations, he was clear they were a warning. Vibranium could not stop genius, and so Wakanda hid their brilliance even deeper, choosing to sharpen the minds of their children before their spears. But there were spears. The war-dogs scattered across the globe. The weapons and cloaking devices that never stopped improving. With everything that’s happened, it’s impossible for her not to extrapolate where Wakanda was headed even before Killmonger’s lumpy ass showed up.
Bet her starry-eyed grandfather never saw the aliens coming though.
"Captain America? Really?" Shuri drinks her ginger tea while some football team plays on the television.
"Little boys who don't grow up in Wakanda love Captain America. And T... he had no way to know there would be a Panther after him." Nakia glances fondly at the picture on the wall, green and black figures holding their joy. "That is not who he was here and it is not why we love him."
-
Nakia lets her leave with one last bit of mothering.
"It's not a betrayal of them to smile. Grieve as long as you need to, but don't feel guilty for the moments when you don't mourn."
It's another trite attempt to lessen the infinite void of sorrow, but Shuri can't bring herself to dismiss it. Not when it's Nakia.
Maybe a teeny tiny part of her soul is reviving.
Cambridge, Massachusetts
"Do you-"
Riri Williams is quantitatively smaller than her, but she still manages to engulf Shuri in a bear hug.
"So good to see you, how've you been, aced all my finals, thanks."
"You could come to our University even if you failed those exams."
"Nah, I'm cool. Good job not bringing the spear. I know you need my help, I will waive my usual fee, but only this time."
"Have you ever seen Spider-Man?"
"Duh, he's got more followers than me. Wait, you mean for real? No! New York is like... four hours from here!"
"I want to study the webs. Any 'class projects' on that?"
Riri gives her a look.
"For research purposes," Shuri insists innocently. "I saw him once, but there was an alien invasion, so it's not like I know who he is. I just think a compressible material with such high tensile strength is very interesting. I don't plan to swing through Birnin Zana like an idiot."
"You could figure it out yourself."
"Organic chemistry is not a field I care to spend my time on."
"Sure, you've mastered engineering, programming, physiology, and you're the world's leading expert on vibranium. Girl's gotta sleep sometime. But somehow you don't have an O Chem expert at your beck and call?"
Shuri finally understands the exasperation of having a super intelligent younger sister. Luckily she has firsthand knowledge of what impudent inventors want. "It would be a signal that I don't actually trust the... new allies if I tell my people to investigate this kind of... preventative measure. I would greatly appreciate any help you have to offer on the subject."
"Oh, I got you. Materials science is my jam. I just wanted to make you say it."
-
"I am the Black Panther," Shuri seethes quietly. "Why can't I feel my feet?"
"Bet you glad you didn't destroy my heater now." Riri burrows further into her fuzzy hoodie. "You're the one who visited in winter. I was gonna spend the break rebuilding my shit, but the warehouse is way too cold with those big holes in it from where-"
"Yes yes, my fault, cops, mermen, everything. What will make you let it go?"
Riri laughs. "Nice."
"What is?"
"Frozen reference, because we're... do you not know Frozen?"
"Peripherally aware of it."
"Oh that's it. You're taking me to Disney World, and I'm making you watch movies the whole flight."
Shuri thinks of the Disneyland trip T'Challa never took her on. She wavers, but Riri's intense excitement resolves the pit in her stomach.
It becomes a whole thing, Science Princess of Wakanda meets a bunch of September Foundation hotshots and is impressed enough to take twenty of them to Disney World. Increases the difficulty for a second secret kidnapping.
-
Orlando, Florida
They eat terribly overpriced junk and scream like they’ve never fallen without safety bars before. Shuri buys mouse ears for everyone in the lab and Simba popcorn buckets for all the Dora.
She's never been much of a spiritual person, but she can't deny there might be a little magic at work here.
As they wait in line for lunch, they are unfortunately facing the effigy of Quetzalcoatl.
"Gonna knock around another god?" Riri teases.
"He's not a god."
"Dude, Thor's a god and they seem on the same level."
"Thor's an alien," Shuri counters.
"Porque no los dos? Take the W and put 'bitch-slapped a god' on your CV." Riri pauses. "You think the Avengers need an application essay?"
She faces the plaster pyramid full of tourists, enjoying her long-awaited taco as the little demon wonders how the Feathered Serpent would handle a ghost pepper.
When posed the question, Riri points out that it might count as poisoning his royal ass. She's totally game to try.
-
"You gottaaaaa," Riri presses her forward into the lair of the Beast. "Add another kidnappy notch to your belt."
Shuri lets herself be drawn in and poses with the actor in the big furry suit. She honestly can't tell if he recognizes her or if it's just part of the job, but he bows in a very princely manner.
In the movie, the Beast was originally royalty, so he could just be keeping in character.
He never actually killed anyone though.
Her smile turns frigid and doesn't thaw until she has several drinks in her.
It takes Riri maniacally spinning them in a teacup centrifuge for the grave thoughts to be flung away.
For now.
Always just 'for now'.
Pointe à la Hache, Louisiana
"Princess."
"Broken white boy."
"Not that broken any more."
Shuri looks pointedly at where his left arm is supposed to be but royal manners take over. "Still Bucky, then?"
"Couldn't have done without Wakanda's help, yes. Still Bucky, your Highness."
"Well, Still Bucky, I'm Just Shuri."
Still Bucky quietly observes Just Shuri. "I am sorry about your family."
The ache in her heart is becoming far too familiar. "Thank you." She manages to sound gracious enough. "How have you been?"
"Keeping busy. I do kinda miss the kids. Human and goat."
The small sliver of smile catches her off guard. "It was a nice farm, wasn't it? If the White Wolf chooses to return, he would be met with... no more than two spears. And I'd make them set phasers to stun. Wakanda has had some difficulties, and I've realized that trust in your allies is surprisingly hard to come by."
Bucky's eyes widen at the word 'trust'. "For you, I'm always more than willing to lend a hand-"
They both lock gazes and as one, look at his remaining arm. It secretly surprises Shuri how easy the laughter comes to her, even though grief also follows quickly and smothers it.
She could have gone home after Louisiana. Or at least further inland. But no, she goes to the Bahamas because she's not about to stay afraid of 70% of the planet she lives on and she may as well go to the nicest beach she can.
Her feet are bare, slowly sinking into the sand with each deliberate step toward the sparkling blue endless. The kimoyo beads on her wrist glimmer, but Griot says nothing of her elevated heart rate. Because she told it not to.
She had bought a cute gold bathing suit, matching the panther teeth around her neck. Fitting Room Shuri showed off the round scar with confidence. Reality Shuri ended up buying a purple sarong, anxiously avoiding all the breezy white linen on display. She didn't need an AI to tell her that her breathing was labored as she staggered out of the store.
The ocean crawling along the beach is warm until she is nearly hip deep, then her toes find cooler water as sand scatters around her ankles.
"Don't let me drown," she mutters to Griot. "Or turn into a fish."
"Less than 1% chance of that happening, Princess."
"Bast watch over me." She clambers forward awkwardly and shuts her eyes as the waves cover her head.
-
The throne room is neither wet nor on fire. This time she truly sees the purple sky through the window.
"Sup, kitty cat."
She breathes her acceptance. "Cousin."
"Heh." The white figure sprawled over the throne shifts his weight. "Not as bratty this time, huh?"
Shuri thinks of the men with two names, her brother, the White Wolf, Namor. "You were born Erik Stevens. My brother sent you off N'Jadaka, son of N'Jobu, to the sea, as you asked. What do you want to be called?"
"I still like King."
"Now who's being a brat?" She peers through the glass frame and finds a tree of glowing panther eyes. She turns and faces him squarely. "I know why it's you."
N'Jadaka sneers.
"Because my brother doesn't want your hate to consume you. Even now, with the rest of eternity in front of you. You were right. We are not different, and I'm sorry we took your father from you. I know that if I didn't have my family-"
"I don't need your pity, princess," he spits.
"You inspired T'Challa to open the borders, to be a better king. Better than baba. To be part of the world. I won't like you," she concludes firmly, "but I won't deny you."
Wakandan Design Group
"I don't think we're in Kansas anymore, Toto."
Shuri is not in a mood for teasing. "Agent Ross. What do you want?"
"I want this to just be a social call, Shuri, you know a ‘welcome back, thanks for the Pluto slippers and saving me from prison’, but as a friend and someone who wants the best for you, I have to tell you now, even though it… you know what I used to do for the CIA, the kind of things I'm good at. Wakanda is in a vulnerable place. I don’t have the full picture, I can’t even imagine how difficult the last year has been. But you need to make a statement to the people soon; the longer you leave question marks, the unsteadier Gorilla Guy's seat on the throne is. That’s the kind of opportunity other countries will target to draw blood."
"You want me to make a speech. I'm not my… I'll look like an idiot trying to be her."
"Hey, you'll be great. I'll help. You're not doing it all by yourself."
-
Shuri straddles a low stool so her knees rest on the red clay, but not in complete prostration. The Council and King are ringed behind her, fully in frame of the camera. It should look like subservience, but it is obvious to all that they are there to reinforce her.
"I am Shuri, daughter of King T'Chaka and Queen Ramonda. I am here now to announce my formal abdication as successor. M'Baku of the Jabari has the bloodright, he won the Challenge at Warrior Falls. Tradition says he is King of Wakanda. But you know how I have treated tradition in the past, so maybe you don't trust I won’t change my mind. It’s true I was never a traditional princess, but I am my mother’s daughter. My family has ruled in peace, in turmoil, in loss. I asked M'Baku to take the throne because I believe he is a ruler worthy of T'Challa's hopes for Wakanda.
Three times my brother has needed allies, and three times M'Baku has led the Jabari warriors to our aid. In my own moment of crisis, he gave me wisdom as well as loyalty, even when the two were opposed. The throne is not something I yield to him as a reward for what he has given or to run away from my regrets, it is a responsibility I know myself unable to bear with the insight and honor it deserves.
The Black Panther is the only mantle I choose to inherit from my brother, King T'Challa. I ask that you remember: we do not fight under the banner of the Golden Tribe, or Bashenga, or even Bast. The Black Panther is the protector of our united people, we live in the name of our country and our future. Wakanda forever!"
“Wakanda forever!” echo the men and women behind her. Shuri thinks she can hear the voices of those who left before her resound as well.
She does not look away from the camera until long after it has stopped recording. She falls ungracefully off the stool when she finally relaxes. Something her mother would never do. It doesn't hurt as much to think about though.
Okoye offers her a chocolate bar.
Ross holds out a glass of brandy.
She takes both. “Never make me do that again.”
“You have done them all proud.” The River Tribe Elder pats her on the shoulder as he leaves.
“Your father tripped on his own robe the first time he had to make a speech,” the Merchant Tribe Elder tells her conspiratorially. She sighs in fond reminiscence. “That’s when we started getting more of those Western suits.”
M’Kathu of the Border Tribe helps her to her feet and guides her out of the room, giving Shuri a respectful nod as they go.
“You wrote that?” M’Baku looks almost impressed and touched.
“She did,” Ross jumps in before Shuri can deflect. “A little help organizing and polishing, but all her.”
“Helps to have help; you were pretty useful. For a colonizer,” she gives him a cheeky grin.
“There it is.” His frown is only at 15% annoyance.
Shuri starts at the natural beginning. She does have to wait for the 'kamehameha's to go away, before bestowing Mickey ice creams to the children who do the greeting properly. It still devolves into the pack of land sharks chasing the Black Panther around the courtyard of the new embassy.
Okoye looks on indulgently as she sips her Starbucks.
-
Wakanda refuses to make any statement aside from “The attacks were carried out by a group of radicals opposed to the open-nation policy under King T’Challa’s regime. The Black Panther has dealt with the threat accordingly and will continue to protect Wakanda and her interests.”
King M’Baku doesn’t get around to appointing a United Nations representative until four months after his reign begins.
On the other diplomatic front, the Talokanil Embassy is finished. No one expects it to operate as a real embassy for at least a generation, but it sounds better than ‘aquatic-to-air answering machine’. Which is why they will be where Shuri puts them, by this lake, and not expected to set foot or flipper in Birnin Zana (again). It’d be a little too pointed to stick them in a desert, as much as she would like to. Or an uninhabited swamp.
Definitely a good thing she’s not ruling Wakanda.
It’s enough to have them networked, but they don’t have anything close to vocabulary for ‘Zoom call’ or ‘like the Jedi Council in Star Wars’ so it will be a trip someone else has to take explaining that to them.
The excitement of seeing a new project in action fades away quickly at the prospect of being face to face with Namor. A name he specifically said was for his enemies, so maybe not super smart to open the alliance with calling him that. K’uk’ulkan seems unnecessarily pretentious.
And they are not ‘his people’ anyway.
-
Because the idea of blowing the shell as a means of communication is actively offensive to her, she makes one of the children do it, with the excuse that she’s got to keep her helmet up, befitting the dignity of the Black Panther. She kicks the vibrating conch into the water.
Hopefully with this embassy, it will never appear before her again.
The clammy king and his followers rise up from the lake cautiously. Shuri keeps her stance neutral but it’s definitely not welcoming despite the purported reason for this reunion.
The children are mostly curious; a few immediately remember how to greet the blue tribe, which reminds the rest and so even though the Council representatives and the Panther remain stone-faced, the Talokanil do soften their attitude a little.
Mwamini bravely introduces herself and the structure the Design Group worked so hard on. The consoles that will connect with the Wakandan response team, so any Talokanil can come with information or inquiries. The two-way relay system that will allow the Tribal Council in the Golden City and the underwater emissaries to convene if needed without leaving their own breathable environments. She makes an attempt to explain the internet but ends up just saying that they have various levels of educational and entertainment material for those who might be interested. They can request the virtual assistant, Umzanyana (who has also been translating), to provide guidance or suggestions.
Mwamini glances at Shuri, who might be taking a nap inside her suit for all that she’s moved, and judiciously does not ask if they might be willing to send up some scientists or scholars to share knowledge.
Shuri is not asleep, but she is relaxing her muscles as hard as she can, because the sight of Namor (who was she kidding, he will always be Namor, 'loveless’, to her) brings forth too many emotions to process. Luckily he doesn’t seem to have any intention of speaking.
One of his followers announces herself as Itzel and thanks Wakanda for the invitation and gracious hospitality. She promises they will avail themselves to the building and its features and expresses all of Talokan’s hope for a long and fruitful alliance.
The Feathered Serpent and the Black Panther nod sharply at each other before taking their leave, one by plunging into the lake, and the other by springing into her aircraft. She lets the mask retreat and pants shakily into her hands. The warm flutter of air in her palm recalls the quivering of feathers. She feels the heat of the desert, the disorientation of blood loss.
“Princess, you are exhibiting symptoms of a panic attack.”
“I am not afraid of him!”
“Princess, you should breathe.” Griot projects a scan of her body onto the screen. “Would you like to go to the nearest medical facility? Or to return to the Golden City?”
Shuri slightly regrets not giving Griot a little more autonomy, because the continuous questioning is making her want to rip all the wires out of it.
She can’t be among people right now if she can barely stomach her AI.
“I can drive, just shut up.”
-
The Heart Shaped Herbs glow reassuringly. She lies down in front of one, chin resting on her hands, follows the path of veins with her eyes and lets the soft purple light fill her mind.
“Did you freeze?”
Shuri gives her brother the finger.
“That’s a yes.” He shakes her fingertip gently, and his hand is strong and warm and steady, unlike last time in the lab. “You know what mama would say.”
“How'd you come now, without the Herb?” She tries not to sound petulant, but it has always been the privilege of being his baby sister.
“Maybe you’re losing your mind,” T’Challa offers fondly, the only one who never gives her shit for asking 'how' instead of 'why'. “Maybe the Herb you made is wrong and causes hallucinations under extreme psychological stress. Maybe Bast knows her newest avatar needs the wisdom and guidance of her elders.” He smiles down at her. “A lot.”
The Meeting Room in the Embassy is a mirror of the one in the Palace. Talokan business might be brought before the King if needed, but no one even considered bringing the Talokanil themselves (in any form) to the rebuilt Throne Room.
They both have a screen and a sand table and chairs, though the underwater version has seatbelts. It’s nothing to build underwater cameras and scanners, but Umfuni did all the refraction math for air and water so that attendees on one side would be solidly present as holograms on the other without distortions. Which is pretty damn good for an eleven year boy.
This would all be great and she certainly has plenty of pride in her team and students. Unfortunately Shuri is here today as leader of the Design Group rather than Black Panther, so she can’t wear the armor and it makes her uncomfortable.
-
The Talokanil except for Namor look like they are still a bit hesitant using the technology. It could just be a front because he can’t let his people see his confused-king face.
The session starts so she moves her gaze from her hands to stare fixedly at M’Bele, M’Baku’s aide, until it is time for her to speak.
“Riri’s machine used the frequency of vibranium to determine its presence, so for the time being we plan to adapt the sonic stabilizers, rendering the raw metal effectively inert. These would be installed over each vein of ore until we finish the research and they might need some maintenance, but that should be easy enough and well within Talokan’s abilities. The more permanent solution I am aiming to-”
Namor leans forward, a look of concentration on his face. “Explain the sonic stabilizers. Please.”
Because he remembers his manners, Shuri adds a video of the maglev trains and the stabilizers in action to the screen.
“The main characteristic of vibranium is absorbing vibrations and energy. I developed a way to temporarily deactivate it. If King Namor has a survey of the vibranium lodes, both area and approximate density, that would help us determine the best schematic for each. We would not need their actual coordinates for this exercise, naturally. As I was saying, I would like to find a way to sacrifice the top layer of the deposits, permanently nullify its properties so that any future detectors are unable to register the energy signature of the vibranium below this ‘crust’ and then those government ‘fishing expeditions’ will keep moving without needing more aggressive means of deterrence. I believe this solution satisfies the agreement I made to protect the people and the vibranium under Talokan’s dominion without compromising Wakanda’s neutral position with the surface countries.”
“Could I see these stabilizers?”
Shuri’s knee-jerk reaction is to say ‘like hell you can’, but taking him to the Great Mound and showing him the lab would cancel out the favor she owes him for the underwater sightseeing trip. “The Design Group would be… happy to host the Talokanil on a tour. When do you think you will be in the neighborhood?”
The Merchant Tribe Elder leans over and gives her a toothy grin after they disconnect with the Embassy. “The alliance does not cover trade yet. If he wants anything, you send him to us first.”
Shuri’s not even faking it when she giggles in response. “Of course. Fishman won’t know the lake from the cook pot after you’re done with him.”
“Are you sure?” M’Baku asks.
“I won’t let him see any-”
“I trust you to prepare your science dungeon adequately,” he interrupts. “I know enough Golden manners to know we have to let him look at the thing you want to give him. But you don’t have to be there if you don’t want to. The Black Panther might need to go protect the Border on the day he arrives.”
“Thank you. I can handle it, and I think I want to do it. I’ll let you know if I get cold feet.”
-
There are far too many toes. Just out. Blue. Exposed. In her lab.
At least they aren’t also wet.
She’s already prepared a victim for the demonstration. It won’t be a Panther suit. The large chunk of metal shines brightly, illuminating the darkened testing room until she turns on the disruptor. The part of the slab under its influence turns lifeless and muted immediately.
“Why does it do that?”
“In most conditions, vibranium’s capability to absorb energy is incredible, as is its ability to follow instructions. I ‘told’ this one to emit light without heat, which is harder than you’d think in a piece this big.” She suddenly remembers the vibranium sun. “Well, maybe not you. Anyway, the machine is using a particular wavelength to disturb the molecules so that they can’t do the thing they want to do. For my original purpose, it only needed to be a temporary state and did not degrade the metal, but vibranium doesn’t stop genius, so I know I can figure out a way to make it permanent without resorting to nuclear fission. It might end up being a chemical treatment, but I promise it’ll be safe in water if we go that route. We are also investigating if this” she gestures to the disruptor “over a long enough period of time could have the same effect.”
She can’t say ‘tl;dr: I’m gonna shake it so hard it turns stupid’. But she wants to.
Being a prodigy truly is nothing but suffering.
-
Now that she’s out of lecturer-mode, she feels supremely awkward because she had been so not-awkward just now, answering questions and being less than a spear’s length away from Namor.
Luckily his scholars and hers do not share the same tension. The slight delay of AI-translation doesn’t slow them down in the least.
“What is that?”
“We’re trying to see if we can backwards engineer the Asgardian flying boats, which is basically a spaceship you can drive with the top down and not suffer the usual effects of having no atmosphere.”
“Except, we’ve seen the videos from the tourists, the only atmosphere they need is a paarty.”
Yama steps forward to lay a hand on her arm. “Princess, you forgot breakfast in your haste to prepare, it’d be best if you excuse yourself. We will escort them the rest of the way.”
Shuri squeezes her fingers gratefully. Yama is wholly aware that she’s had breakfast, she just left 94% of it untouched on the table.
If Namor has any thoughts about her strategic retreat, he’s smart enough not to voice them in a building she controls.