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nellycanwrite · 1 year

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A Request

Part 1 of the “The Request” Series || Attuma x Talokanil!Princess!Reader

Summary: As the daughter of the feathered serpent god, you had always felt the pressure of living up to your father’s name. But you never had to worry; Attuma was always there to quell your fears and follow your will to the ends of the earth.

Or, in which Attuma swears his undying loyalty and love for you, even if it meant being as shameless as to declare his love to a princess when he was but a mere warrior.

Rating: 16+

Word Count: 10.9K

Warnings: None. Just pure fluffy goodness. If you include a slightly overprotective Dad!Namor then yes, he’s the warning. Maybe a little bit of childhood friends to lovers. A whole lot of Princess x Warrior.

Note: It is worthy to note that I have not included any deep Yucatec Maya phrases (besides the terms of endearment) despite the Talokanil speaking in their native tongue as respect to their language. Therefore their mother tongue shall be labeled with italics.

Part 1 || Part 2 || Part 3

K'uk'ulkan had never felt as much loss as he had the day he had lost your mother. Yet there lay bittersweet joy; for the heir to the throne of Talokan had breathed their first breath and let out a cry so strong it beckoned the creatures of the deep sea to their bidding.

You were born a wee thing; weak and fragile as the old shells that littered the floors of the sea. Yet you held strong in the arms of your father as he witnessed his wife lifelessly lay in their shared chambers. The handmaidens and wet nurses all wept and mourned at the loss of their queen, the ocean swayed with the waves of its people's grief. You cried with your father's subjects as if you had understood the passing of Talokan's queen mother, but K'uk'ulkan never shed a tear, no.

He was a king to his people. He was the protector of his nation. A God was he revered by both land and sea.

He was your father.

And he dared not to weep in front of the children he held so dear—for even in the heartache of his loss does he remember the weight of his divine majesty and countenance to his people.

“The queen of Talokan has passed,” K'uk'ulkan swallowed the lump that formed on his throat as he bit back bitter tears. Tears that he will never show his people in a sign of great weakness, “yet she would not have wished for us to mourn in sadness. She brought us a gift that none could ever compare. She would have wished for us to celebrate in her absence for the birth of our child—Talokan's first heir.”

The you who had been presented with a crown and a scepter of your kingdom's rule since your birth inherited your father's features; the ears that pointed to the heavens as a sign of the divine blood that flowed through your veins, the golden skin that the sun had seemed to kiss in great exhalation to your birth, and the wings of heaven bestowed upon your ankles.

You were undoubtedly his child. The heir to K’uk’ulkan’s great nation.

You were loved by both land and sea, perhaps a gift from your late grandmother's love for the surface, for when you visit the land and take gulps of air do you stay breathing and when you step into the rocks of your father's study do you remain kissed by the sun. You did not change into the color of the sea like the maids that have cared for you, instead, you remained the same color as your own father when he sits idly on dry land.

At the tender age of seven did you realize the weight of the name of your father. You aspired to become like him, to fly like him, to lead the people like he did in childish wonder. He showed you the land that your ancestors once owned, the burial sight of your late grandmother, Fen, and the beauty that came with your motherland.

You yearned for the sights of the surface world, craved for the sun that illuminated the sky—not the one that your father had curated all those years ago, but the one that sits amongst the clouds of the surface—and you whispered wistful wishes to walk into the luscious green of the land that was unknown to you.

But your father forbids you to go further than the coves of Talokan's entrance. The sole heir to the throne of your nation should be safe. Protected. You were only allowed to go up into the surface every three months, a leniency that your father had so mercifully given you, and stare at the land dwelling wildlife that would so cross your vision.

You were merely stuck in the watchful eyes of your guards as you gazed with great longing at the mountains so far from your reach and the forests that would call your name.

Despite the love that you had for the beauties of the surface world, you loved your people and your great nation of the deep sea. You loved your father and tried your best to live up to the name of K'uk'ulkan. At the age of eleven you were made aware of your duties to your people. You had made sure that those duties were fulfilled despite the protests of your elders for being so young; that the beloved princess of Talokan need not to carry on the mantle of her royal duties just yet. But you worked hard to outshine your peers to preserve the honor of your father.

K’uk’ulkan could not be any prouder than he is now.

But the pedestal that you stood on was lonely. You did not have many friends, not because your father was protective of you and had guards at your beck and call, but because you were always so nervous to converse with the other Talokanil children.

What if they didn’t like you? What if they decided that your status as a princess would hinder their relationship with you? What if they didn’t see you as a prospect to rule them in the future when your father passes the baton of his majesty to you?

How ironic must it be for the princess of a great nation cower before the idea of friendship to her own people.

But that had changed when your father let you meet two Talokanil children; Namora and Attuma.

You knew Namora as your relative—your father’s cousin, to be exact—and sometimes came and went into the palace when you studied. But you never did get the chance to talk to her. You were far too anxious to try and talk to someone whose aura was as intense as hers, even when she’s just a few years older than you.

“They said they wanted to be your friend, in waal.” my child, he said. Both of them shifted nervously from where they stood, toy spears hidden behind their backs as they fidgeted in place. You noticed how Namora elbowed the boy Attuma on the ribs. He glared at her albeit playfully and said nothing as he behaved.

You have always noticed the two of them from afar when you studied near your father's throne. They were always rowdy, always hitting each other with their spears clumsily. Despite this, they always laughed and took everything in a merry stride. They never ceased to amaze you.

Even though Namora was far smaller than Attuma (or any other Talokanil child your age, really), she always won their little play-fights. Their roughhousing caused other children to stay clear of them, but you always found them fascinating. You never knew they wanted to be your friends. You have never as much as held a proper conversation with them except for a few nervous waves and panicked scrambling on your part when they caught you staring.

“My…friends?” It was your turn to fidget nervously, your hands clasping together and your thumbs twiddling against each other whilst you looked down. You felt the water shift as your father swam towards you, his tender gaze calming you down when his figure covered you from the curious eyes of the Talokanil children.

“That's right. They want to play with you. I'm sure you were wishing for the same, no?” He chuckled knowingly. You felt heat rise from the back of your neck and crawl up your cheeks—your father had seen you staring at them while they were playing almost everyday!

Nervously, you nodded ever slowly. There was no lie to his claims. You truly did wish for them to become your friends.

Attuma's patience must have run out when you were taking your time to reply to your father. You shrieked in surprise when you met the biggest grin you had seen in your life from just above you, an incisor clearly missing in the front of his mouth. K'uk'ulkan laughed and gently coaxed the boy down to your level, his hair flowing gracefully with the water as your father grabbed his ankles and lowered him in front of you.

“Wanna play with us?” You blinked at his straightforwardness. You glanced at your father for help, but he merely chuckled and gestured for you to answer.

“I—well—um…” He was too close to you that you felt like fainting from your own nerves.

“Attuma, don't be rude,” Attuma grunted when Namora appeared by his side and delivered a firm whack to his head with a toy spear. You breathed out a centering exhale before shooting Namora a thankful look. She huffed at Attuma, “you might scare her. And you just swam over the king!”

“I do not mind. But be more mindful next time, Attuma. You must not swim over your elders.” K'uk'ulkan chuckled endearingly at the children's antics. He already knew how rambunctious they would be whenever he passed by them play-fighting.

Attuma nodded with a gapped-tooth grin but K'uk'ulkan doubts he would really listen to him. But that was alright—he has plenty of time to learn respect. The king of Talokan wishes for these children to be their mischievous selves a little while longer and enjoy their carefree lives as young Talokanil.

K'uk'ulkan notices you fidget once again when Namora turns her attention to you, just as eager to make you their new friend. You try to make out words with broken sentences, yet there was no right greeting that would come. You would deflate when Namora would hold the reins of the conversation again. You failed to introduce yourself proudly and your embarrassment made K'uk'ulkan coo—how precious could his princess be?

He chuckles and patted Namora and Attuma on the crowns of their heads, successfully diverting their attention away from you and into his benevolent smile.

“She's a little nervous, but she has a good heart. She also wishes to become your friend. But remember that you have to listen; it is the makings of a great warrior.”

“A great warrior?” Namor's eyes sparkled. Attuma stared at his king with wonder similar to the spark of Namora's eyes.

K'uk'ulkan chuckled and nodded. You chose this moment to swim to your father's side, hiding half of your body behind his own. You looked at Attuma and Namora curiously while they waited for their king's next words.

“A great warrior not only takes a spear and protects their people, but they listen as well. They listen to their people's cries and act upon their needs. It is also your duty to listen to your leaders—for they hold the burden of choice. Never forget that, my young warriors.”

Your father rubbed your back soothingly and pushed you gently forward. Your heart thumped loudly in your chest as soon as you were in close proximity with the two Talokanil children.

“Now this is your first task your king asks of you; listen to what the princess has to say, understood?”

They were eagerly waiting for your next words, their bodies barely holding in their excitement. You would have swam away right then and there, but you steeled your resolve and took a deep breath.

You said your name with a stutter, but that did not deter you. Your father gave you a reassuring pat to your shoulder. It filled you with more confidence to look them straight into the eye and say;

“I—I wish to be your friend, Namora. Attuma.”

The children gleamed happily, the water shifting as they circled you in excitement. Attuma had it in himself to wrap his arms around you and giggle with such carefree mirth that it covered you in a sense of welcome. Of belonging.

“You don’t know how long we wanted to become your friend, princesa!” He exclaimed, his arms still wrapped around you firmly. His toy spear now lay discarded on the ocean floor but he didn’t seem to mind.

Overwhelmed with the attention, you stuttered and twitched in his embrace. But you didn’t feel uncomfortable; it was a pleasant feeling to finally have a friend. But you weren’t used to physical touches just yet.

A large hand pried you off of Attuma, your hair whipping around you as you were now brought back to your father’s side. You saw him smile cordially at the boy, albeit strained, as his eyes twitched ever so slightly.

“Now, we have to be gentle with the princess. There shall be no sudden touches in her presence, especially with you, Attuma.”

Attuma blinked and cocked his head to the side, but he didn’t question his king’s instructions.

Years have passed since you have befriended the rowdy young warriors that K’uk’ulkan looked upon with great fondness. You, along with Namora and Attuma, have trained under the wing of your father in the ways of the spear much to your new friends’ joy.

As the next heir to the throne of your nation, you always did your best to meet the expectations that came with the name of the daughter of the feathered serpent god. You would go to the fields of your farmers to oversee harvest, weave baskets with the elderly to help the storage of the new batch of produce, and join the scholars that studied vibranium so you would further verse yourself to the mineral that grew in abundance in your ocean floors.

They were once such a tedious task for you; something that you did out of necessity. But Namora and Attuma made it a point to follow you everywhere you go, help you with the work and doubling the yields of your effort, and they made you smile when you were far too tired after your duties.

Attuma had made it a habit to make you cling on his back as you swam back home. There was no reason for you to get more exhausted than you already were, he told you. And despite your initial reluctance, you found yourself falling into a habit as well.

You found your royal duties far more enjoyable with them by your side, and you absolutely awaited the time of the day where you were relieved of your duties to go and spend your time with them.

“Don’t you find studying boring?” Attuma asked you one day, his meticulous hands polishing his training spear near the drop of the deep trenches. You tilted your head as soon as you seated yourself beside him, your legs dangling on the steep edge.

“I don’t think so…the language of the surface dwellers is fascinating. I find it enjoyable to learn.”

“You’re better off not knowing their language,” Namora huffed as she emerged from the bottom of the trench, a small lamp containing bright vibranium sustaining you with much needed light. She held her training spear proudly by her side, freshly decorated with shells that she found down below, “you know what they did to our grandmothers and grandfathers. I don’t see why you want to learn so much about them.”

“It is my duty, Namora. Once I take the throne I might need to talk with the surface dwellers one day,” you looked down on your lap and fiddled with the jade bracelet your father had gifted you on your fifteenth birthday—one that once belonged to your grandmother, “and I’m just preparing…just in case.”

“We’d be dead before we let any of those surface dwellers see you, princesa,” Attuma nudged his shoulders against yours and grinned, “we’ll make sure you don’t even have to talk to them as long as we’re there to protect you.”

“Did father tell you to say that?”

“What? No!” You gave Attuma a squinted eye stare and hummed. He averted his eyes nervously, his hands now working on his spear with more fervor than before. You and Namora snickered at his plight.

“He did.” Namora confirmed your suspicions. You sighed but left it be. You knew your father was just trying to protect you, so you let him do as he pleases. Although you did not fully understand the depth of the weight of his responsibilities, you could still recognize the great sorrow that came with his hate for the surface world.

And you had kept quiet about your longing to go up into the land; for you knew how it would pain him to know that you bore as much love for the surface as you did for the love you had for your nation.

Attuma cleared his throat and straightened his back, the spear he had decorated with the teeth of hammerheads now lay by his side. He stared at you with such conviction that rendered you speechless in his presence, and the light from the faux sun that your father had created casted him in a glorious light that made your breath hitch in your throat and the feathers on your ankles bristle in anticipation.

“I’ll do my best to train hard, princesa. I’ll become strong enough to protect Talokan—to protect you—so that you won’t even have to worry about any surface dwellers by the time you will inherit the throne.”

You felt more heat rush from your neck and now up to your eyes, his words giving you so much joy that you could possibly even imagine.

You had a friend far more loyal than any of your own guards from your father’s command. And if there was one thing you had learned from your duties as princess, that was the honor that came with a loyal subject.

Your flustered surprise was eventually replaced with giggles when Namora hit Attuma on the head with the brunt side of her spear, her face contorting to one of lighthearted teasing.

“Do you really think you’re the only one training to be by the princess’ side? You’ll have to go through me first.”

“Then I’ll just have to train harder to beat you, Namora,” Attuma glanced at you and gave you a grin, “I’ll be the one to stand by the princess’ side.”

“You’ve never even beaten me once.” “There’s a first time for everything.”

She scoffed. “In your dreams.”

You stopped their little play-fight before it got too heated by pulling them closer to your side, your arms around their necks and laughing with such elation. You were thankful that they came into your lives and became your closest friends, and you would not ever want to see them change as you slowly aged with the sea.

“While the both of you train to become warriors, I’ll study even harder so I could be a queen that both of you will be proud to serve under. I don’t want your efforts to go to waste and serve a leader that’s incompetent.”

“You don’t have to do that, princesa. We shall follow you through the ends of the earth if need be. We already know that you outshine any ruler that came before and will come after you.”

“My father would not be too pleased if he heard you say that, Attuma.”

“He feels the same way, don’t worry.” Namora spoke in turn for the boy. You giggled when Attuma gave you a cheeky grin.

The three of you laughed with glee, unspoken promises now drifting with the currents of the outskirts of the capital city of your great nation.

It’s almost been a century since you have befriended them. A century since you have made your closest friends and aides. Namora and Attuma were always stuck by your side even when there were calls from their king to gather his strongest men. They gave you counsel, they gave you peace, they gave you protection in your times of need.

Nowadays, though, Namora has frequented your father’s side more likely than not—mostly because she was his cousin and his most exemplary warrior. Attuma was only second in skill compared to Namora, but he was still powerful in his own right.

You wondered when would your father hail them as generals; they deserve to be given the title for their service and their wit. You, as the princess of Talokan, can vouch for their competence.

“Where shall we go today, princesa?” Attuma asked you, his gait slowly inching closer to your own.

The boy you once knew had grown into a fine man. He had honed his body to withstand the greatest blows, turned himself into a living shield for your purpose and disposal. You did not want him to go into such extremities, but he always insisted. He even went as far as to hunt hammerhead sharks on his own and nearly killed himself in the process. The bites of hostiles were lodged firmly into his stomach, and the scars that littered his skin became trophies of his successful exploits.

You cried and cried beside him as you told him how stupid he was, how foolish he was to do everything in your name. How could he throw himself into danger just to train himself for your sake? It did not make sense to you, and you reckon that you will never understand the mind of a great warrior like Attuma.

Despite this, he comforted you and held you close to him; told you that he would welcome any sort of pain just so he could protect you from harm's way. You cried again and punched him in his abdomen—you were sure to tell your healers that you would be the one to patch up your reckless guard as an apology.

You felt his warmth from the water that surrounded you as it shifted when he tucked a strand of hair behind your pointed ears. You smiled.

“You can call me by my name, Attuma. You know that.”

“How dare I ever utter your name so casually?” He asked you almost incredulously. You sighed.

“We have been friends for over a century. You can be comfortable with me,” you turned to him with a pout, “please?”

“Is that an order?” He asked you, a trace of amusement from his quirked lip. You huffed and crossed your arms.

“You know I don't like giving orders, Attuma.”

“Then I shall continue calling you by your title, princesa.”

“And what if I ask you this as a request?” You swam closer to him, your pout breaking out into a knowing grin.

Attuma stayed silent, his head turned to avoid your piercing gaze. He felt heat from the back of his neck at your proximity, but he didn't dare move away from you.

You huffed.

“You're no fun.”

Attuma resisted the urge to chuckle. You looked at him in the corner of your eyes and smiled; you knew he couldn't resist it when you tried to make him laugh.

“And what of your errands today?” He asked you, covering his mouth with the back of his hand. You blinked and swam towards him, pling his large bicep into the direction of your father's study.

“We've wasted much time, Attuma. Now come, we are going to the surface.” He nodded in affirmation and led you towards the entrance of the underwater cave systems your father introduced you to as a child. It was one of your favorite places, but your duties called you to the deeper parts of the sea to tend to your people.

As soon as you ascended, you saw the figure of your father dressed in his cloak as he painted murals upon the walls. Beside him was Namora, her mask on her face and her pallor now blue for being in land. You regarded your father with a bow, gestured him with the sign of your people’s respect, and slowly ascended into his study.

“Father.” you called out to him. He paused from his painting and smiled at you, his eyes filling with so much love that it was unlike the name the surface dwellers cursed him to be.

“In princesa,” my princess, he greeted you, reaching out to wipe the saltwater away from your eyes, “what brings you here?”

“It is the time of the year to visit the surface, father. I was just here to let you know before I went.” His face steeled much like the other months across the century you had told him. But it was not in a place of anger—it was in a place of worry for your well-being.

“I trust you to remember all that I have taught you. Return as soon as possible, understood?” You nodded and grabbed his hands, squeezing them tight in assurance.

“You do not have to worry. You have taught me well. And Attuma will be with me while I am out, so I shall be safe in his hands.”

K’uk’ulkan glanced behind you, now regarding Attuma with a nod of acknowledgement as he placed his mask on his face. Attuma bowed his head in respect and tightened the hold on his spear. The king’s brows furrowed.

“If you bring Namora with you—”

“Father,” you cut him off, “I will be alright. I will not do anything to endanger myself nor Attuma. I will merely visit the borders of the reef, is all. I’m sure our warriors have already scouted the area before they were called back.”

“In waal…”

“We always go through this every three months. I do not doubt your worries, but place your trust in me and the warrior I have chosen.”

Attuma straightened his back a tad bit, his chest rising in pride. He met eyes with Namora and grinned behind his mask. Namora simply replied with a silent roll of her eyes.

K’uk’ulkan swallowed a lump on his throat and sighed. He knew you were right. He trusted you enough that you would be safe, especially when someone as skilled as Attuma were to be by your side. It was the surface that he did not trust. It took so much from him and his forefathers even before Talokan came to be. He did not want to lose you to the claws of the surface world.

He would have volunteered to come with you, to make sure you were safe, but one look from Namora was all he needed to know that he was needed in the council in just a few moments.

He sighed. There was no stopping you when you had your mind set on a task.

“Stay safe.” He gently held the back of your head and ducked down to meet your forehead. You hummed and closed your eyes, squeezing his hand in assurance.

“You sound as if I am going to war,” you joked, “I shall return safe. I promise. It is not something that I have not done before.”

“You know your strengths, my daughter. But be wary, still. Negligence is the first sign of weakness,” he separated himself from you and turned towards the wall mounted with spears. He took one of his own and gave it to you, the vibranium of the weapon shimmering under the light of the luminescent algae. It felt balanced. Powerful. He then smiled, “and never forget your weapon.”

You chuckled and bowed your head in respect, the spear now by your side.

“Yes, father.”

K’uk’ulkan turns to Attuma and beckons him forth. The warrior obeyed with no hesitance and bowed before his king. You watched as your father nodded to himself and placed a hand on Attuma’s shoulder.

“She’s a bit of a handful, so look after her, Attuma.” You gawked at him.

“Father!”

“I will do as you say, in ajawo,” my king, he said. The warrior dared to look up and showed his conviction to his king, “I will keep her safe—even when she is a handful.”

“You did not have to agree with everything my father says!”

Namora cleared her throat and cheekily chimed in. “K'uk'ulkan is our king. Whatever he says we agree to, princesa.”

K’uk’ulkan ignored your huffs of protest and Namora’s silent laughter as he squinted at the man, the hand that lay on his shoulder now tightening in warning. Attuma held his ground and did not yield to his king’s hold. He knew the reason for his king’s aggression; it came from a place of protectiveness. You were his only daughter after all.

And Attuma was a man who held a century-long love for you, something that K’uk’ulkan wasn’t particularly fond of.

But you were too stubbornly attached to him that no scheme that K’uk’uklan thought of would separate the two of you. He was far too wrapped around your fingers to fully say no to your whims. The king’s only saving grace is the fact that you were far too oblivious to notice the affections of your own guard.

K’uk’ulkan felt a sliver of sympathy for Attuma. Just a tad bit.

He narrowed his eyes. “And there shall be no…detours along the way, understood? Keep the princess safe, no more than that.”

“Yes, in ajawo.” With a final nod, K'uk'ulkan released his grip from his warrior's soldiers and bid a final farewell before being led out by Namora to the depths of Talokan. She gave Attuma a knowing glance and bowed her head before you.

“Be careful, princesa. The world will incur K'uk'ulkan's wrath if you return scathed.” She joked. But knowing your father, you did not doubt that he would burn the world if you would come back harmed in any way; more reasons for you to stay careful for your visit.

You smiled. “I will be careful, Namora. Do not worry. I have Attuma with me as well.”

She nodded and followed after her king to the water, now disappearing into your view. You faced Attuma and gave him a grin.

“Let's go visit the surface.”

You knew the underwater caves like the back of your hand. You weaved through the dark waters, greeting the guards hidden by the rocks. They bowed their heads and regarded you with the gesture of your people, a courtesy fit only for the daughter of their god and king.

You smiled to yourself when Attuma swam forward when sunlight peeked through the entrance of the surface, his spear drawn and ready by his side. He looked so focused and attentive, his whole body on high alert. You giggled as you reached him and held his hand, squeezing it tightly while looking into his eyes.

“You are too stiff. Nothing will harm us here.” You told him. He furrowed his eyebrows and shook his head.

“I am your aide. It is only natural for me, in princesa.”

“I only wish for you to be at ease, Attuma,” you tugged him to the direction of the light, the sun now making itself known to the both of you. Attuma squinted at the sudden brightness; he wasn’t used to seeing something as intense as the real sun, after all. It was his first time visiting the surface world, “you will love the sights, I promise you.”

Attuma felt wrong to be swimming beside you like you were equals. No aide of the high blood of Talokan should even dare to swim in stride beside a warrior who bore no rank. But by your side, he felt safe and welcomed.

He did not feel fear despite it being the first time he had ever visited the surface world. Rather, he felt it to be…intimate, in a way. You trusted him wholeheartedly, put your safety in his hands as you ventured outside the safety of your own kingdom, and shared the experience that he knew to be significant to you even if you did not tell anyone your sentiments.

But he knew. He always knew.

And he would protect you in great fealty as you explore the land that you so loved, even though he knew it would anger his own king to grant your taboo affection for the surface world.

Away from the prying eyes of the other Talokanil, he allowed himself to indulge in his selfish desires and swam closer to you; your shoulders almost touching, hands tightly intertwined, and his heart finally free of the formalities that came with being your guard.

He let himself become a man whose soul reached out to you in longing.

Your heads broke through the water and were hit by the rays of the golden sun. You let Attuma adjust to the light for a few moments, his hands shielding his eyes as he tried to view the sun from between his fingers. You watched his skin slowly turn blue as the air hit his skin, and you had to smile ever so slightly as you watched him marvel at the green forests just across the beach.

“Your mask.” You reminded him, the hand that was intertwined with his tightening in your hold. He nodded albeit meekly, seemingly embarrassed to have forgotten to equip himself in the midst of his awe, and let go of your hand to make sure his mask was secure.

Attuma already missed the warmth as soon as he willed himself to part from you in a respectful distance, now aware how shameless he was to have succumbed to his own desires.

You guided him to the rocks that overlooked the beach, just by the edge of the corals that your people have grown to create a border for those who visited the surface. It was a reminder on how you were never truly free to roam the surface and discover the riches beyond your own kingdom.

The stories your father had told you plagued your mind, but beyond the violence that your forefathers have witnessed, robbed of the land that was yours by birthright, you wanted to see for yourself the motherland that your grandmother loved. You were angry at the surface dwellers, yes. You raged at the thought of the conquistadors that tainted your ancestral home.

But you never did loathe the surface. You just wanted to connect to the land of your ancestors that you were stripped of.

You were broken from your thoughts when you heard the squelch of water on rock. You looked beside you to see Attuma in full attention, his visage that of a man in full guard. You would have laughed if you saw him so serious in the midst of such a peaceful afternoon, but you knew how much his duty to you and your king meant to him.

Attuma stood by your side whilst you leaned back and rested your feet on the water. You patted the space beside you, but he shook his head. You pouted.

“Join me to rest. You are not bound by the rules of my father here,” you told him, your face cracking into a mischievous smile, “be at ease, Attuma.”

“Is that an order?” He gave you a glance, his eyes twinkling under the sun. Only now did you appreciate his dark gaze. It was as intense as it was full of life. You giggled and patted the empty space beside you once again.

“A request.”

He stared at you for a few moments, his eyes locking into yours and sending shivers down your spine. You held his gaze, the water on your skin turning cold when the breeze hit your flesh. With a huff, he put down his spear and sat next to you, his hand dangerously close to your own.

“If you’ll allow me.”

In silence did you bask in the beauty of the faraway beach that should have been inherited to you by your ancestors. The lands that stretched across the plains and the jungles of vivid colors would have been yours to rule by your father’s side. It pained you to know that you cannot even set foot on those beaches.

It was the order of your father. The order of your king.

An order to protect you from the surface dwellers that took your grandmother from him.

It only served to remind you that—despite the feathered ankles that promised you freedom—you were caged in this lonely corner of the earth, away from the adventures that you wanted to experience in full.

“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” You asked your guard, your eyes following the birds that idly preened themselves on the branches. Attuma stared at you from the corner of his eyes, his lips turning into a smile as you leaned forward in interest.

“Quite so.” His heart skipped a beat when your eyes twinkled in amazement, your gaze never wandering from the land.

“Would it be shameless of me to long for the surface?” You asked him suddenly. Attuma shook his head quickly.

“Never.”

“Speak your mind. I did not ask you to indulge me and curry my favor,” you sighed and wrought your fingers together, your hand now leaving the proximity of your guard’s own, “I ask you for counsel, Attuma. You are one of the few people that I trust.”

Attuma was silent as he mulled over your question. An aide to the heir of the throne must only listen and follow their whims. The will of their masters were the will of their followers; he dare not disobey such courtesy.

But in the freedom of the duty that binded him to such rules by your order, he granted himself full autonomy.

“It might be so, in princesa,” you looked at him curiously. He held the urge to submit to you, to take back the words of his own opinion, and continued on, “you are the heir to Talokan, the nation built on the suffering of our ancestors who fled the land to hide in the sea. To long for the surface is a defiance to their dying will.”

“But we were robbed of our ancestral lands. What if I long to get it back? To let our people walk in the motherland that we once came from? To let them see this; the beauty that they were deprived of when we were chased off our own inheritance?” “Then you should be prepared for war.”

He looked directly into your eyes, ones that held such young wisdom and hope. But he knew from the countless battles he fought that to reclaim the stolen land you wished to rule is to declare a fight that you were far too merciful to lead.

“To reclaim the right that we once owned…you must be ready to shed blood; both the blood of the surface and the blood of your people. But to declare battle you must reveal our nation. Our king’s will shall not allow such a thing.”

Attuma watched as you lowered your head, trapped in the swirl of your thoughts as you continued to deliberate the weight of his words. He flagrantly allowed himself to reach for your hand first, draw circles on the back of your hand tenderly, and scooted himself closer so his hulking gait would protect you from the prying eyes of the world.

You squeezed his hand with yours, your breath stuttering at your next words.

“And what if I still desire to reclaim our land back, Attuma?” You looked up and held his gaze, your eyes now steeling itself to one of conviction.

He smiled.

“Then I shall shed blood for your will, in princesa.”

You searched for any sort of hesitation in his strong features, to try and coax out any sort of loose ends of his loyalty. But you saw nothing of such sort; there only lay pure faith to your very existence, one that you recognize as unyielding.

You stared at him right in the eye. It was piercing, cold. One that beckoned utmost honesty from your aide. It was not a simple decision to make—even the words you have uttered this very moment would be considered blasphemous. Outright treacherous.

“Even if it means to defy the orders of your king?”

He did not waver as he replied.

“You are the one that I serve. My loyalty lies with you.” He took his spear and knelt before you, his one knee digging into the rock in which you lay. He pierced his weapon down into the earth, took your hand to rest upon his cheek, and presented himself to the utmost fidelity.

“Have you not sworn your service under the name of my father?”

“I have sworn nothing,” he practically growled, his grip on his spear tightening, “I long for nothing more than to swear my piety to you. I am indebted to K’uk’ulkan; I revere him as my god and king. Yet I cannot stand the thought of offering my loyalties to anyone else but you.”

You felt your heart throb against your chest, your eyes stinging with wet tears. It was a feeling foreign to you. The waves usually wipe your tears away at the bottom of the sea. But here on land, you wore your heart on your sleeve. It was an overwhelming feeling, one that urged you to cover your mouth to stifle your joyous sobs.

In the face of the man you had grown up with, in the presence of such undying loyalty did you fail to mask your elation. Yet your head was muddled with confusion—why was he always so devoted to you? Why would he risk being cast out when your father still sits on the throne and swears his loyalties to you? Why was he so willing to defy the orders of his king for your selfish whims?

You knew the weight of a warrior's oath. It was not something to be taken lightly. Warriors would swear upon the names of leaders who have fought countless battles, led the charge to warfare, and those who were considered gods like your father.

You were none of those.

You were not your father.

“Why?” You asked him, your hands trembling against his cheek. “Compared to my father, I am nothing. Why would you swear your loyalty to me when I have nothing to give you in return? It will still be years—centuries, even—before I could inherit the throne and bear the title of queen mother. So why?”

Silence fell between the two of you, the waves of the high afternoon playing the symphonies of its motherlands. You felt like you were suffocating despite the beauty that surrounded you while you waited for him to speak.

Finally, Attuma slowly raised his head and kissed the palm of your hand. It brought a wave of heat from the back of your neck to your cheeks, and even the tips of your pointed ears warmed at the gesture.

“Will you allow me to speak out of turn?” He asked you, his voice uncharacteristically soft. You blinked back the tears that obscured your vision and nodded.

“Speak your mind, Attuma.”

He breathed in a stuttering breath, the hand that held yours tightening and trembling. It made you nervous; a warrior such as he, the embodiment of a shield that protects his nation, stuttered and shook in your hold. He could overpower you at any second, purge the world of your existence, but here he was, weak and vulnerable in your presence.

He locked eyes with you, those gorgeous oaken eyes stared deep into your very being without reservation. You found yourself feeling faint, as if you have fallen into a pleasant trap that you weren’t too keen on getting out of.

And with a steady voice he said;

“I love you, in princesa. I always have since we were children. I only breathe to serve you, only live to please you. If you so asked me to burn the world and slay your enemies, then I will show you the ashes of their bones on a jaden chest. If you asked me to become your shield, then I shall parry every blade for you and protect you with my last breath. If you asked me to become your spear, then the blood of your foes shall dye the sea in red…”

He paused as he drew closer, the heat of his body enveloping you in a sensation of great adoration. He gripped your hand tighter, his lips lingering on your palms as he leaned further into your touch.

“...and if you asked me to become your beloved, then I will become the most faithful man you would ever lay your eyes upon—for your joys are my joys, and your sorrows are mine to bear.”

You felt your throat constrict, the heat from your face now traveling down to the tips of your fingers down to the very ends of your feathered ankles. Your wings bristled and shook, your breath hitching at every breath, and you felt the sudden urge to look away from those unwavering eyes. But the gravity of his own magnetism was enough to drive you back in; to never tear your gaze away from the man that confessed his love for you.

Though this begs the question; did you love him back?

Attuma must have misunderstood your silence for rejection, so he slowly removed your hands from his cheeks and bowed his head in shame.

“I have spoken out of turn. I apologize,” he held his spear tightly, but he never removed himself from his bow—a sign of his submission to you, “whether or not you accept my feelings, I will still stay by your side. I will serve under you, make my oath in the witness of K’uk’ulkan of my loyalty to you. I will ask for nothing more.”

Your heart broke at how easily it was for him to apologize. No person should ever apologize for the feelings that they bear. It only proved how devoted the great warrior was to you; for him to present his feelings of love to you and still offer his loyalty in the face of rejection.

You recounted the days of your youth down to the decades worth of memories with him. How could you have been so blind to have ignored the signs of his affections? How blinded were you with your duties that you allowed yourself to turn away from the subtle declarations of his feelings for you?

How foolish were you to actually dismiss your own feelings for him? You love Attuma. You always have.

“Why have you not said anything in the century we have been together?” You asked him, your voice low and meek. You did not want to lose the warmth of his skin, so you gently lifted his head with both of your hands and let him meet your eyes.

You saw the gaze of your warrior waver.

“My duty is to protect you. How dare I be so impertinent as to bear feelings for the daughter of my own king?”

You shook your head and leaned in to rest your forehead against his. You heard the clatter of his vibranium spear on the rocks and into the water below. But you simply did not care at that moment.

“You are never impertinent, not when I bear the same love for you as you have for me.”

You heard his breath hitch. The hands that lay dutifully to his side now flying up to your face and hold your cheeks so delicately. In the large and dependable hands of your warrior did you feel safe and loved. It was unlike the other times that he had shown you affection when you were merely just friends.

What were you now, you wondered, now that you and him share the same feelings.

In that moment of solace did Attuma realize his place, but he did not dare remove his hands from you. He ghosted his fingers over your pointed ears, tangled his hands with your wet hair, and held you tight like you were the most precious thing in the sea.

He was but a mere warrior—a shameless peasant whose hands had brazenly touched the skin of his master.

“I am just a warrior without a title. You cannot possibly love me as I am.”

“But I do. I just have never realized it sooner, in yakunaj.” My love, an endearment that made Attuma’s heart flutter and weak against your hands.

“And when we are in the eyes of scrutiny, what then should you do?”

“It matters not, my dear warrior.”

“But your majesty—!”

“Am I not the heir to the throne of Talokan? Am I not the princess whose rule is imminent in the witness of your king? Of whom I shall love is a matter of my own choice that not even the feathered serpent god could refute.”

You drew in closer and wrapped your arms around him. He was strong and powerful, but in your arms did he surrender himself. He was not the warrior you knew him to be. In your arms, he was just a man who held a century worth of ardor.

“I dare not disgrace you, in princesa. I have nothing in my name but the battles that I have fought as a mere soldier.”

He removed himself from you and held you tenderly by the cheeks. You leaned against his touch, completely surrendering to the feelings that you have long since ignored since the beginning. He inched himself closer and continued to speak with great affection.

“But if I would be so bold to ask for you to wait; wait for me to garner titles of my own, build the foundations of my exploits, and ask you again to become mine, would you be so merciful as to grant such a plea?”

You stared at his resolve, the gaze of the man you have realized you have loved now asking you for the mercy to wait. You cupped his strong jaw and caressed his cheek with your thumb as you said;

“I will grant you mercy, in yakunaj, only if you fulfill my wish.”

He became alert, his body ready to grant your desires.

“Anything, in princesa. Anything for your majesty.”

“Then I wish for you to call me by my name, I beg you. We bear more than just pleasantries of warrior and royal.”

He gave you a smile, one that even his mask could not hide, and leaned in to touch his forehead against yours.

“Is that an order?”

You smiled.

“A request.”

It was merely a few decades later that the great capital city of Talokan was abuzz with the whispers of a great blessing bestowed upon their royal heir. It lit the fire of pride within the citizens of the hidden nation, a pride that K’uk’ulkan wore with high regard as he descended to present himself on the forefront of his throne.

Their darling princess, the radiant pearl of the deep sea, was ready to assume the throne of K’uk’ulkan’s legacy.

As your citizens have revered your father as the god king of your people, they have revered you as the same; a deity whose hands extended to the waters to create a shield of protection, a divine being whose mercy radiates the warmth of a thousand suns, the daughter of the feathered serpent god whose wings carried you through the winds of battle through the century. Your chest bloomed with unending bliss when you realized you've lived up to the name of your father—an entity that you've molded yourself into the likeness of.

You had held the expectations of the name of K’uk’ulkan to your very heart, and you were thrilled at the fact that your father had acknowledged your efforts in the witness of your people.

Your kingdom cheered and praised your name as you descended into the throne room from above, the feathered headpiece similar to your father’s symbolizing your authority as heir apparent of Talokan. Your father extended his hand for you to take, and you had done so with such grace befitting of your title as radiant pearl of the sea.

And there he had presented you with a throne of your own, just below the teeth of the monster of the deep oceans that he had slain many years ago. It was decorated with the finest of jade, vibranium, and gold with the likeness of an open shell. Compared to his throne that was decorated with the splendor of his long battles, yours was the embodiment of the abundant riches of your nation.

It was a symbol, perhaps, that the toil of your father’s work had borne fruit of great wealth to Talokan and passed down to the generations that would come next.

The radiant pearl of the sea had finally assumed her reign as heir apparent after a century of her rule by the feathered serpent god’s side, and there was no one in the kingdom who would oppose to the majesty of K’uk’ulkan’s daughter—not because she had the blood of their king in her veins and the feathered ankles that proved her divine lineage—but because of her love for her people and the duties that she had so diligently carried with grace.

K’uk’ulkan swam to your side and guided you to rest upon your new throne. It was a new feeling for you, one that could not compare to the childish wonder that you had just sitting on the lap of your father when you were still a wee babe. In the high seat of your throne did you overlook the citizens that had adored you, watched as they bowed their heads and put their hands in the likeness of a serpent’s mouth as respect to your inauguration.

As much as you loved to see your people acknowledge you, you could not find a glimpse of your best friend and secret lover. To you, their opinions were the only ones that mattered. It would not feel as joyous as it is if they were not to witness your greatest achievements.

Where were they, you wondered. They promised to be here in time for your ceremony.

“Something troubles you, in waal.” your father beside you, the feathers from his headpiece tickling the sides of your cheek. You gave him a smile, one that masked your worries, and found comfort in the hands that gripped yours reassuringly.

“Namora and Attuma are not here,” you supplied him, your eyes scanning the crowd of your people, “I worry for them. They promised they would come.”

K’uk’ulkan smiles and brings his hand to caress the base of your neck tenderly and rest his decorated forehead on your own. Your breath, which you didn’t realize had become labored, instantly calmed at the mere comfort of your father.

“Quell your nerves, my daughter. They will come.” With a knowing smile, your father separated himself from you and swam up to sit in the jaws of his own throne. The people all cheered while chanting the words of praise to Talokan’s honor.

K’uk’ulkan puts his hand up slowly and everyone falls into a hush. The air was still buzzing, the water under your command feeling the energy of everyone’s bated breaths as they awaited the words of their king.

“We honor the place of my only child as the rightful heir of Talokan. She has proven herself worthy of such a title for a century, and the seas have blessed us with such excellence that no one could dare defy. The future of Talokan is bright.”

Your people cheered and hollered, yet your eyes still strain to find your best friend and lover. You tried your best not to feel upset, but you felt a painful twist on your heart.

Where were they? It was unlike them to break their promises, especially your beloved warrior, Attuma.

“Not only do we celebrate the coronation of my daughter’s place in my council, but we celebrate the oath of our two new generals.” your father continued, your head snapping up at the familiar silhouette of your secret lover up the grand entrance of your underwater throne room. Your heart settled and you smiled in great pride as your father presented them at last.

“Namora and Attuma, the new grand generals of Talokan.”

They extruded such power as they descended ever so slowly, the light of the vibranium sun creating a halo of light around their bodies. They wore new armor that suited their character; the likeness of the spines of a lionfish adorned the body of your best friend, Namora, and the skull of a hammerhead shark and the spikes of its teeth littering every crevice of Attuma’s plated armor. Both of them held their respective weapons made of vibranium, and you could only smile at how proud you were for them.

You couldn't help but ogle at the sight of your warrior. You had kept your word and waited for him to finally gather his own accomplishments before asking for your hand. But that did not stop you from sneaking off and relishing yourselves in each other’s company. No one had ever suspected anything yet, but you gathered that your people were still under the impression that Attuma only bears one-sided love for you.

Oh your poor love, you didn’t mean to make him wait for so long.

You wondered when he would finally ask for your hand, to finally make your blooming romance known to your father and your citizens. It filled you with warmth just thinking about the possibilities.

You and Attuma locked eyes as soon as they had finished their descent, his eyes raking across your figure sat on your jeweled throne. He felt the need to kiss you right then and there, a privilege he had not yet taken across the decades of your secret romance in respect to his promise. He dared not touch you so inappropriately when you were not yet his, but he was sure to finally claim you as his own.

You were a jewel in Attuma’s eyes. A gem fit to be heralded around in great praise to your charm. Although your beauty spoke wonders of your outward appearance, you were a strong warrior, maybe even as strong as Namora. You are wise like your father, and you cared for your kingdom in the ways that a mother would.

You were crowned princess of Talokan, heir to the throne of K’uk’ulkan’s majesty, and the future queen mother of your nation.

Attuma could not even begin to describe in words such a blessing that fell into his hands so tenderly.

As soon as they were done taking their oath, bowed before you and K’uk’ulkan to swear their undying fidelity to your nation of Talokan, Attuma and Namora shared one look before your warrior ascended alone, careful to keep his gait below your eyes and on the feet of your throne. Your people fell into a hush, the momentary celebration ceasing to wait for Attuma’s next words.

“In princesa,” he started, his eyes looking up to lock eyes with your father, “K’uk’ulkan. If I may speak.”

“Attuma,” he regarded the warrior, his head held high in authority, “what do you wish to say?”

“My fealty lies with no one but the princess,” he bowed low and presented presented his spear by the jewels that adorned your throne, “the oath I shall take is one reserved to be of service of her, and if she wills me to serve under you, K’uk’ulkan, then I shall do so with no question.”

You waited with bated breath as your father stood from his throne and descended to stand in front of your warrior. Your heart thumped in your chest as you saw your father inch closer to him, his hand now resting on his shoulders and urging Attuma to rise.

“You have done a great deal for the name of my daughter, but the decision is hers to make.” K’uk’ulkan started, his voice carrying nothing but tender command. He turned towards you and beckoned you forward. You did so without question and swam beside your father.

“Do you accept his oath, in waal?”

There was no other answer for such a question. It was something that you had dreamed of since the beginning of your blossoming romance, the fantasy that you had always dreamed to come into fruition.

With a smile that would outshine the stars of the night, you eagerly replied.

“I shall accept your oath with open arms, Attuma. My dear warrior.”

Your people broke into joyous cheers as Attuma rose from his bow. You turned to pick the spear by the feet of your throne and presented it to him with a proud grin. He replied in kind, kissing the vibranium shaft that touched your hand as soon as he had received it. Heat traveled up your neck and into the tips of your pointed ears at the gesture, your fingers wringing together in bashful fluster.

K’uk’ulkan smiled at the exchange, but he could not help but urge you away from the warrior and back to your throne. He could not help himself—you were far too precious to be in the presence of a man who fancied you all his life.

The king turned to Attuma and regarded him with a nod and gesture of Talokan’s respect, the warrior replying in kind.

“Serve her well, Attuma.”

Before K’uk’ulkan could return to his throne, Attuma rose high and proud, brandishing his weapon only he could ever wield with such power. A show of strength, if you will, that left the people at awe at the display of his prowess.

“My king! If I may be so bold, I have something to ask of you.” He declared, his voice loud and strong. Your brows furrowed in confusion at such a statement; what else did Attuma need when he had already pledged his service to you?

You held the urge to giggle when your father turned with an amused chuckle of his own.

“What is it?”

Attuma turned towards you, the both of you locking eyes. And in that moment, he sent you an affectionate grin.

And then realization hit you.

He wasn’t going to—!

“I wish for your permission to court your daughter, the princess.” Murmurs and excited gasps spread across the hall. You see Namora grinning to herself staring at Attuma, impressed. Your cheeks burned with heat, your chest pounding at how incredibly mad Attuma was for declaring something as bold as a courting during your coronation as crown heir.

But it was something that you absolutely loved about your warrior, no matter how insane he was to declare his desire to court you in front of the entire kingdom.

Your father stiffened, his eyes steeled and ready to pounce at Attuma. He had to hold himself back—there was no reason for him to needlessly attack his finest warrior just because he expressed his desire to court you. He could not even dismiss such thought; the titles and the achievements of Attuma held far more worth than any man in Talokan.

From where it stands, and with your close relationship with the warrior, he was by far the only man worthy of your affection.

And so, with a reluctance that held every possible threat in the world, K’uk’ulkan replied.

“Prove to me your worth, Attuma, for the radiant pearl of the sea does not need an incompetent suitor to court her.”

“Father!” You hissed quietly. You felt your father’s animosity course through you in waves. You had to resist the urge to groan and sigh; he was so protective of you.

But Attuma did not seem phased as he spoke steadily.

“By your will, K’uk’ulkan.”

In the eyes of your people did you swim beside your father and held his arm reassuringly. His steely gaze finally fell as he looked at you, and you allowed yourself to swim to the level of his ears and whisper, “Please be gentle with Attuma, father. I also bear feelings for him.”

He looked at you like he was betrayed, but he was not surprised. How could you not have told him about your budding feelings for the warrior?

Then again, he knew the throes of a woman when it came to sharing their romantic feelings, so he did not blame you for keeping it a secret from him, your own father.

“How long have you known?”

“A few decades,” you smiled sheepishly, “do not be so hard on the warrior that I have chosen. He means it in good faith, and he has done nothing to cross any boundaries set by your command.”

“Are you sure?”

“I swear it upon my name and crown, father.”

Your father pondered on your words for a little while longer and resigned with a sigh. You pressed your forehead against your father’s and giggled.

“Thank you for your leniency, my king.”

You separated yourself from your father and swam forward to Attuma. He gave you a cheeky grin, one that screamed unapologetic mischief. You shook your head, amused as his antics, as you raised your hand to cup his cheek.

“My father has given his word; prove to him that you are worthy of my hand so we will be together, my dear warrior.”

He dared cup your hands that feathered along his strong jaw and leaned into your touch. You could feel your father’s piercing stare, but the both of you ignored it, too engrossed in your own little world in the watchful eyes of your nation.

“Is that an order?” He asked you, his eyes boring into yours with such intensity that would have sent you immediately to your knees.

You leaned in close until your lips met the base of his mighty headpiece, the jagged teeth of the hammerhead shark that he had slain digging firmly into the skin of his forehead. When you parted, you stared into his eyes; the eyes that held nothing but veneration to your glorious name.

And with a tender whisper to your beloved, you replied.

“A request.”

Anyone up for a Part 2? >:))

Taglist: @haideehaids @xnodamsel

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thelastharbinger · 1 year

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Mabel Cadena ■

#friends i think im in love #she's so beautifullll #namora #mabel cadena #mcu #marvel #black panther #wakanda forever #bpwf #namor the sub mariner #talokan #namor #bp2 #mcu namora

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laninasinamor · 1 year

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alex’s instagram today

the little mermaid references 🥺💙💙

#namor #namora #attuma #mcu #marvel #tenoch huerta #alex livinalli #mabel cadena #black panther #wakanda forever #liikik talokan #namor of talokan #mcu namora #mcu attuma #mcu namor #king namor #k’uk’ulkan #talokan’s favorite trio

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namorweek · 1 year

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Namor Week 2023 - Day 1 The Talokan Royalty Trio in their Royal ceremonial costumes. Sitichandoko commissioned @mariemarion to literally dance with the brushes; I'm genuinely captivated and happy with the pieces!

- Sitichandoko on twitter!

#namorweek #mcu namor #mcu namora #mcu attuma #fanart #twitter submission #day 1 #talokan #2023

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namorthesubmariner · 1 year

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Namor & Talokan

So these are my thoughts upon watching Black Panther: Wakanda Forever twice now.

I loved Namor. I truly feel they captured the characterization so well in so many ways and it’s amazing how good of a job they did in this movie, how Tenoch owns that role, how perfect everything is. This is what it means to adapt a character, changing things but keeping the essence of the character and tbh the changes were such a great choice because in the end it served to enhance the character and bring him to new audiences and fans to enjoy and he is still NAMOR. So many people complaining about how bad it is they stripped Namor of everything obviously think that Namor begins and ends with Atlantis and know nothing of his character.

The overarching theme of Mothers, and their children, Namor & Fen, Shuri & Ramonda, play a central role amidst all the grief of the past/losing someone. Colonization is the enemy, not Namor who was just Wakanda’s antagonist.

Talokan mirrors Wakanda but asks the question: What if Colonization had won, what happens to the survivors who escaped? Wakanda never had to deal with the Invasion of their homeland, while Talokan did.

In the comics Namor is often the “Voice of Reason” when placed within a group dynamic, such as the Illuminati, it’s Namor who points out their plans are stupid or finds the most straightforward path to his goals, he is a very honest character and doesn’t hold back his words/thoughts. So it makes sense that just as Coogler holds up Talokan to mirror Wakanda so he would hold Namor up as a mirror to Shuri and gives her the option that others in Wakanda could not, to take on the world and give into those feelings of Rage. Ramonda (and by extension Wakanda) wants Shuri to grieve properly in a healthy and begin to move on with her life, which Shuri cannot do because in part she blames herself for not being able to save T’Challa. Survivors guilt is strong within her even though she really couldn’t do anything but that’s how guilt works. Which plays off really well because Coogler wasn’t afraid to let Namor be exactly like his comic counterpart and follow through on his word/promises even if that meant he was going to do things no Morally White/Good aka Hero character would do, since Namor is a Morally Grey character he has the space to make and follow through on choices he finds benefits himself and his people.

Spoilers beneath the cut, so this is your warning.

While Namor is much older and had time to rule over his people and deal with the grief of losing his mother for hundreds of years he chose Rage & Vengeance as his crutch to get through losing her. He focuses his anger on the world. He isn’t wrong, the Spanish Colonizers are the root cause for all the evil done to him and his people and by extension the surface world. Namor is a Hero to his people and he is their Protector. Which means he will be viewed as an enemy of the surface world. Namor was superhero comics first anti-hero and Tenoch!Namor is the same.

As a general overview before I get into details, Namor’s arc is very complete. His goal was an alliance with Wakanda, he makes it clear the first time he comes to ask them for help because Namor does not ask for help, not in the comics, not unless he trusts that person or is willing to trust that person. Namor + Trust is a very important trait. Listen if you think Namor couldn’t find the scientist and kill Riri where she stood on his own than you don’t know how capable Namor is. He and his people are not primitive/lacking of skills or smarts, he doesn’t need Wakanda’s help but he recognizes it would be smarter in the long run to have an ally that would empathize with him and his people. He chooses Wakanda because its the Nation his mother told him about, and he recognizes that they and Talokan are both very similar. Namora and Attuma were literally using a hunting trick for Riri, have someone else draw her out into the open before taking them down. Why else would they have been waiting close enough to take Riri if Namor had asked the Wakandans to bring her to him? If Namor had truly trusted them to find AND bring Riri to him he would have waited instead he had a back up plan which were Attuma and Namora. Namor’s trust of the surface, even Wakanda only goes so far.

Let me get into details. You don’t know how much it’s killing me to not have pics to go along with my text but I will have to wait till the movie is out on dvd to be able to gif/screencap everything.

I’m starting off with character design first:

Wings.

His wings are AMAZING. There was no easy Superman gliding and swooping here! His air walking was astounding, at times it felt like he had to really push himself to get up to a certain height level like a bird putting more effort into its wings getting off the ground vs catching a air current. He was so agile and FAST, turning on a whim and aware of his surroundings, honestly some parts felt like he was just swimming or dancing through the air, the way he twists his body/hips to change positions. I am so happy they included the wings because it’s so important to his character.

His wings flap rapidly like a hummingbird, and it’s always been one of my personal headcanons that’s how Namor’s wings move and it was really cool to see! There’s a sound you hear when his wings move, like a rattlesnake/buzzing, I think its because he is called K’uk’ulkan, Feather Serpent God, so that rattlesnake buzzing is a nod to the serpent aspect of that.

Edit: AresisKander on Twitter added this comment after reading this post and I am including their comment:

About the sound of the wings or when he flies, I think the reference is to the ayoyotes or chachayotes many people in Mexico still use to do/reenact traditional dancing

A photo of Ayoyotes.

/End Edit.

I did some searching online today to try and figure out what bird/feather pattern they modeled Namor’s wings off of because in the movie it’s not pure white wings and had some light patterns of grey/light brown with the white. I think its modeled after the Osprey (Pandion Haliaetus).

The parts I’ve highlight here are what stood out to me the most in the movie, the tops of his wings had the same white feathery look and his lower feathers had that pattern. The bird makes sense for Namor as the Osprey is found near rivers/bodies of water and is a fish eating bird of prey, with excellent eyesight to see underwater to hunt their fish. They are excellent divers too.

Tenoch’s ears were so cute, and while Namor has pointed ears, the rest of his people do not, so some people like Namora, use jewelry to give themselves the pointed ears like Namor, others use jewelry on the outside of their ear to mimic the pointed ear shape.

GILLS.

THE TALOKANIL (or is it Talokaneil?) HAVE GILLS. I AM SO HAPPY THEY KEPT THAT FROM THE COMICS!!! The Gills have always set Marvel’s Atlanteans apart from DC, and even Namor has gills in the comics even though artists forget to draw it but it was an important plot point in a couple of comics. Seeing their water masks covered not just their mouth/nose but also the gills on their necks was so cool. I can’t wait until high res stills come out so I can show you all how cool their costumes were! the gill masks were soooo pretty!!! There is just so much detail on their look/costumes/mayan influences that I can’t do it justice with words but it was beautiful, Namora had a few outfit changes through the movie which I loved.

Speaking of Namora, she was not at all like her comic counterpart and like I guessed before she is basically a mix of Namora and Andromeda. It makes sense why they wouldn’t use the character Andormeda since she is Attuma’s daughter in the comics so they wouldn’t have time to explain why his daughter is the same age as him etc. since comic atlanteans are long lived and look the same ageish. Andromeda operates as Namor’s right hand woman, the captain of his guards/army, a highly respected close friend and long time ally who would always fight beside Namor and offer advice.

Namora is smart, loyal, and such a badass in the movie. Mabel played her beautifully and I adored her. Anyways I loved this interpretation of Namora and I hope we get to see more of her and Attuma. Attuma’s character does not get alot of lines, we have no clue to his motivations and if he hates Namor or not like in the comics, in the comics they were enemies, but the recent King in Black: Namor tells the story of Attuma’s origin and friendship with Namor before it all went bad.

Namora, Attuma, and Namor all wear different outfits throughout the movie. The character designs were brilliant, and the costumes were gorgeous, so I really hope they win an award for that again.

It also feels like they each have an “Avatar” of sorts. Namor is the Feathered Serpent, Attuma is a Shark, and Namora is a Lion Fish, remember the Lion Fish is a deadly venomous creature so those spines Namora wears are a warning threat to her enemies.

The Plot

I will be focused on the Namor/Talokan plot mainly.

The first scene we get with Namor is literally ripped from the pages of Marvel Comics (1939) #1. In the comic, two divers go exploring a ship and Namor darts by too fast for them. Later Namor cuts the lines of one diver killing him, then goes after the second diver.

In the movie the divers are sent to check on a drill in the ocean, it had struck vibranium, which the Americans were after since they had a Vibranium detection machine. Namor swims by too fast for them to see, they are too focused on their find, however one diver’s life support signal stops, when the scientist lady on the ship asks the second diver to turn around to check on her partner and see if he was ok, she turns only to find cut life support lines. Namor comes for her next. I want to say very quickly that while Vibranium was included in the backstory/plot of the movie it also has it’s roots in the comics but only since the 90s:

Golden age - two divers on an exploratory mission - Marvel Comics (1939) #1 Silver age - expanded: two divers were sent there because the captain of the ship was Captain Leonard McKenzie on his return to the Antarctic waters after decades to search for Fen. The Sub-Mariner (1968) #44 Modern Age - The original cause of two ships coming to Antarctica is because the first one (The Endurance) was on a mission to find Vibranium, while the second one {The Oracle, Namor’s father’s ship) was on a mission to find The Endurance. Namor, the Sub-Mariner (1990) #52

So as you can see they just cut off the Leonard part since Fen’s origins have changed as well, and they kept the scene from the first comic and their motivation is Vibranium. There was a very Depths!Namor vibe to the character which I adored because Sub-Mariner: The Depths is such a good comic.

Meanwhile above there is a siren song luring the crew to their deaths in the sea. I loved the Sirens, they are a highlight of the Talokanil. The ship is now under attack by the Talokanil, and the scientist lady escapes into a helicopter. Attuma and Namora arrivals are great! The Talokanil are efficient at their tasks.

Namora watches as the helicopter goes higher into the sky but doesn’t do anything because she knows Namor will stop them. The first scene showing Namor’s full strength is amazing, it cannot be understated how Namor is a Power in the comics, he is literally called a one man navy. Namor is the guy the other characters call in when they need the Big Guns. He wrecks that helicopter and the scene ends with a visual of Namor hover over the sea in the dark, it really reminds me of this visual.

Marvel Fanfare (1982) #16

So as you see Namor has been called Devil, Sea Devil, Sea Demon in the comics which makes the Spanish Priest’s words to a young Namor really hit home because humans have always viewed him as something not human, evil, and otherworldly even though they themselves are not good people.

The next time we see Namor he is rising out of the water in Wakanda to speak with Ramonda and Shuri, he carries with him a shell, a conch shell, which in can be symbolic of a declaration of war or something else depending on the context as written here and here by Aztec Empire on twitter. The soundtrack to Namor’s arrival is freaking awesome, and Namor’s first show of pure astonishment/wonder at Wakanda is so endearing. Alot of people complained about this online saying he wouldn’t do that, but the truth is Namor does know how to smile, he loves the wonder and beauty of Nature, he isn’t a scowling angry fish man all the time. Tenoch’s micro expressions are amazing, he goes from wonder to being a Threat in the space of seconds. What I really like is how he captured Namor’s humor which is not an easy thing to do since in the comics Namor has a very dry gallows humor that makes people around him think its very serious but he’s actually telling the joke more to himself than for the benefit of others. Namor says “- I took care of it” meaning he totally killed all those people but he’s acting like it was nothing more than a small chore or something. lol. Also there is something else I wanted to point out about the beginning of this scene, Ramonda and Shuri are alerted by elephants who sensed Namor and ran, in the comics when Namor is running amok in New York for the first time he releases several wild creature from the zoo, which also had elephants. Now I don’t know if that was in reference to that scene in Marvel Mystery Comics (1939) #8 but it did remind me of it.

And as stated earlier, Namor was willing to extend his trust but still Attuma and Namora followed Shuri and Okoye in the later scenes.

MCU!Attuma is strong and a capable warrior, I greatly enjoyed him baiting Okoye on the bridge into a fight. The way he looks at Riri (whom Namora told him to kill) and decides she isn’t going anywhere so he might as well have a fight for fun with Okoye was Peak Character for him. Namora is annoyed and snaps at him to stop playing around. I love their dynamic with Attuma playing the Strong Muscle character and Namora though tiny was clearly in charge. Both of them have consistent characterizations, both are very loyal to Talokan and they get stuff done. Attuma is 100% ready to kill Riri and so is Namora. They are looking out for the future of their people. BUT when Shuri asks them to take them to Talokan alive they confer with each other, they treat Shuri like the royalty she is and they take her wish seriously since they also know Namor wants an alliance with Wakanda. If Namor had ordered them to kill the scientist at all costs, I don’t doubt they would have been done there on the bridge.

When Shuri and Riri are in Talokan, Shuri is treated as according to her social status, a Princess, with all the respect given to her from one Nation to another which really stood out to me. They give her traditional clothing, and they aren’t unknind, they care for Riri and give her food while Shuri goes to speak with Namor. I’m just pointing out that Coogler isn’t depicting the Talokanil as some hostile people who are unreasonable in wanting to kill Riri, they are only hostile when the safety of their people is in question.

The biggest change I would say character wise in regards of the transition from the Atlanteans to the Talokanil is that the Atlanteans actively hated and looked down on Namor for being half human/atlantean, its a major source of isolation for Namor. Namor’s character is rooted in his biracialness, is rooted in being a man of two worlds without fitting into either world and struggling with his two people. Changes seem to have taken away that biracial aspect in the form of two different races of human/atlantean since it seems Namor is a full Mayan/Talokan now however it doesn’t mean it’s lost, Namor is never a part of the Talokanil proper, he is respect and revered yes but also set apart in isolation because of his slowed aging meaning he would outlive all of his people, and that he is seen as their deity. When Shuri meets Namor he is open and honest with her. He RESPECTS her in a way the Elders of her people didn’t, because they saw her as a child. He respects her because she is a Princess and because Namor respects women. I know there is alot of bad Fanon out there regarding Namor’s treatment of women in the comics but as a person who has read all of his comics, so much of it comes down to out of context weird fanon and also some moments of really bad writing however Comic!Namor was raised by his single mother Fen and has great respect for women, so of course Namor would respect Shuri and treat her in accordance with her social stature.

I’ve already begun to see NamorShuri shipping discourse so let be preface this by saying I literally do not care. I don’t care what people ship. However this meta is my, a comic fan’s, thoughts on Namor’s character and the rest of the movie, and I would appreciate it if people don’t use my words out of context nor they drag me into any shipping wars. Once one of my other metas was used out of context to promote racism and I don’t appreciate that. Also I personally believe that shipping is not the end of all things. I believe shipping is a fun addition to the source BUT it’s NOT the end all reason behind character’s actions. So people saying Namor was totally hitting on Shuri, or flirting with her, or whatever, that’s fun fanon for you but I personally do not see it that way.

Namor is charismatic in the comics and Tenoch!Namor captures Namor’s charisma, anger, sorrow, and light heartedness but most of all he captures Namor’s loneliness. When Namor opens up to Shuri and tells her the story of his people, of his mother, he is trying to find a connection, some empathy, a friend.

Princess Fen and her people.

They don’t say Fen is royalty or some high ranking woman in their Nation, however they don’t not say that either. Until we get more information about her then I will only speak on what I saw. Fen and her people are suffering from smallpox brought over by the Spanish Invaders, her people are dying, and she is pregnant. We see Fen place a stone, a funeral rite, into the mouth of a dead man who was placed in a dug grave, he had already passed. The unnamed man died of smallpox, and I personally believe this could have been Namor’s father but also it simply could have been a person who was her family/friend/she had some connection to since we aren’t exactly sure who he was. In the comics Fen is the most beautiful Atlantean ever, and I love the actress they chose for Fen, Maria’s beauty takes my breath away to be honest. In the comics Fen meets Namor’s father after she was sent to spy on the Americans and she falls in love with him. She is strong, smart, and fierce princess of her people. I have very strong feelings about Fen as she is one of my favorite characters.

The Shaman creates the potion/serum they drink to turn into water breathers/Talokanil, however Fen hesitates because her concern is her child. The Shaman promises her that this will save her child and her and then swears that her son will be their new king since he will be the first born of their new people. This new backstory for Namor fits the tone of the movie. I loved both Fen and the Shaman, their actors were so good.

Fen being a central character in Namor’s life is so important and I’m really glad that the movie didn’t skip over that. Fen is a guiding force, the reason why Namor is the way he is in the comics, her love and protection, even her naming him “Namor” which in the comics/atlantean it means “Avenging Son” all shaped Namor into the character he is. Fen and Namor are so important to me.

Namor speaks about how he grew up slowly and his mother aged normally, and how for her death she wanted to be buried in her homeland on the surface. Namor carries out his mother’s wishes. Fen in the comics is also buried in her homeland in the antarctic waters of her youth.

Now. This scene. The Child without Love. It hit me like a ton of bricks. I have not been able to stop thinking about this since.

Namor is the AVENGING SON, he gets his identity from his mother. When I learned she wouldn’t be naming him that I was honestly very upset because its so central to who Namor is, but then I saw the adapted scene and I feel it works in this context. In the comics his name is a warning to the surface world/white people who hurt his people in the original comics. In the movie the name was bestowed upon him by a Spanish Priest who calls him a devil after Namor saw their evil and punished them for it. Namor wears his name as a promise to his people and a threat to his enemies,“My enemies call me Namor”.

Honestly the burial of Fen was so sad, Namor even places a stone in her mouth as well. She missed her home and wanted to be returned there. This really speaks to me about immigration and displacement, I can’t tell you how many times I’ve heard my own family members, the older ones, who don’t live in the homeland anymore talk about how they must be buried there. I think its something that only people who leave their homeland (not out of choice but a need for a place that will be better for lives because their home isn’t safe or they have better opportunities in foreign land) can really understand that no matter how far away they are, the need to return there, be buried there for the rest of time is a such a human need. The themes of immigration/displacement/colonization is prevalent throughout their story.

In the comics Namor’s first motivation is to wage war against the surface (white) people who hurt his people and he does cause a ruckus but then he faces the true Evil of Humanity when he finds out about the Nazis, he fights alongside the humans to stop them in WWll because he knew that they would come after his people next.

In the movie, the Evil of Humanity is the Spanish Colonizers. There is no romanticized version of this, there is no Spanish colonizer myth of them being benevolent people bringing advancement to the Natives. They are shown in their full evil glory as colonizers who hurt, killed, and destroyed Nations of Native people. This is the first time Namor sees humans, and its the worst they have to show.

When Nakia is searching for Namor/a way to find Shuri and Riri, she speaks to an old woman who tells her where Namor was sighted, and how he returns, and those who go after him with ill in their hearts do not return. So it means Namor is standing on a beach, returning over the years, because there is only one thing that would bring him to the surface world, his mother’s grave. Namor was visiting Fen’s grave in her ancestral lands.

The Sub-Mariner (1968) #17

Namor’s core character is that he is a hero to his people, and their protector, which the movie displayed so accurately. After the story of his people’s origins, Namor takes Shuri on a tour of his capital city. Another time one of his jokes comes into play, he is telling her all the ways her body would die under the deep water, and then goes “We have suits!” he neglects to mention its the SAME suits that he had taken from the scientists he had killed in the beginning of the movie! lmao. I love him. I really love this character even more now even though I’ve been such a huge fan of Namor for years.

Talokan’s Capital City is so pretty. I can’t wait to zoom in on all the details.

I honestly wish I could get my hands on that 400 page Talokan design book of it’s history/lore. I wish I had better pictures of the stone ring in which Namor does the Rising Sun hand gesture to activate the water currents that take them from the cave to the capital city. It’s clear the Talokans have advanced science/machines which they use all the time, and how they harrassed the power of undersea vibrainum like the Wakandans. Namor even says “I brought my people the sun”. I know there is like 30 minutes of cut footage so I will be waiting for that to come out in an extra dvd feature soon I hope.

¡Líik’ik Talokan!

The term means “Rise Talokan” or “Talokan Rises” the Mesoamerican symbol is the hand symbol connected to the sun (source & source) Namor and the Talokanil use it in greeting to each other.

The Mesoamerican worldbuilding of Talokan is more than I ever hoped for. One of my main ongoing complaints of Namor’s world in the comics is that Marvel is more interesting in destroying it than building it up so it’s just really great to see that Coogler and team had Mesoamerican experts and a language teacher (who played the Shaman) to make sure everything is the best it can be. I know this is a fantasy take of Mesoamerica but I feel they really respected the source material, and Namor’s transformation from Prince/King of Atlantis to K’uk’ulkan is a wonderful way to bring about the comic fantasy coding of native (atlantean) people to actual native mesoamerican people representation.

After their tour Namor gives Shuri his mother’s bracelet. The bracelet is made with fibers of the blue vibranium plant that the Shaman gave to Fen and her people. I know people are saying “it’s romantic, he gave her his mom’s bracelet” but like, if y’all could just take off those shipping glasses for one second to understand not everything has a romantic intention behind it. Imo Namor gives it to her as a gift, a sign of trust, everything he’s done so far has been to extend his hand in trust to what he hopes will be allies to his people. That has been his motivation, that’s what compels him to go to Wakanda, he is seeking an ally, and why not the Princess who has a chip on her shoulder, who wants to burn the world as he does?

While Namor is gone, answering Queen Ramonda’s summons/falling for her distraction tactic, Shuri and Riri escape with Nakia and in the process one of Namor’s people, a young woman, is killed. Namor and Ramonda’s confrontation is tense, and again he carries the shell, remember it’s significance of a object that represents war or other intentions.

Until now Namor had been trying to reach Shuri and get her to see things from his POV about why the scientist should die, but he makes it clear to Ramonda that he will kill Shuri along with Riri if it ensures his people will be safe. That is a character who all throughout the movie has made his goals very clear and then the rest of his character follows through on his threats/promises.

When Namor comes back to Talokan he finds that the entire ruse had been a betrayal, a trick, to get him to leave and in the process it costs him the life of one of his people. If there was one thing in the comics that was always sure to set Namor off was one of his people dying, and it’s no different in the movie. He gathers his people to make a speech about how his hopes was for naught.

The attack on Wakanda was Namor’s retaliation for the murder of one of his people.

In the comics the first time Namor attacks Wakanda, he was possessed by the Phoenix Force and not in control of his mind/actions. However there is a Namor and Shuri plot where Shuri sends her warriors to slaughter Atlanteans because of the Phoenix Namor attack, and then he sends the Black Order to Wakanda. Shuri in the comics does have innocent Atlanteans killed and Namor retaliates. Again they adapted stuff for the movie, and it plays out differently but I just thought to share that to showcase how different things were done. You can read Namor and Shuri’s interactions (they don’t have alot in the comics) in my Black Panther (T’Challa) & The Sub-Mariner thread here.

Edit:

I forgot to add another scene that was Comic to Movie:

Black Panther (2009) #1 - there is a scene in the movie that is exactly like this, where they fly above and comment on how fast Namor is in the water.

/End Edit

The action scenes, every time Namor is flying around fighting and breaking stuff. Once again they show that Namor is A THREAT, and he will follow through on it. And again, the Sirens are so pretty, I love them. One thing I really found interesting is how we see Namor’s moral code even in battle, even after Ramonda, he knows he could crush them but instead he gives them time to grieve. Some people might go “why did he give them a week, etc.” but like, it makes sense for his character, he isn’t a murderer because he likes killing, everything he does is in accordance to his moral code and no one elses, honor is a huge thing with Namor in the comics too. Not to mention Namor’s over all goal throughout the movie, he wants Wakanda on his side, he will do what he can to get that. He points at Shuri and says “You are queen now.” He puts the heavy burden of caring for an entire nation on her shoulders, now she will finally be forced to either step up or let it crush her. Namor is pressure that presses Shuri’s character into change, either she will crack or become a diamond.

Good characters are not stationary, good characters grow and change.

The final three scenes I want to talk about:

The big Wakanda vs Atlantis fight takes place on the Sea Leopard, now this could just be a fun name they gave the ship but it could also be a deep dive reference into a Namor comic character, a villain called Sea Leopard.

Okoye vs Attuma fight again and I loved it. Namora was such a badass!!!! I didn’t mention the water bombs the Talokanil use but its so freaking cool, they use it all throughout the movie and they also use Whales to launch their people out of the water with their tails, or the people ride them. I just love all the worldbuilding of Talokan. I know I haven’t talked about other parts of the movie so far, but my favorite characters are M’Baku, Okoye, and Nakia. I enjoyed every moment M’Baku was on screen!!!

Namor vs Shuri, the big fight, Shuri has finally taken the mantle of the Black Panther, and this action scene was so freaking good. Shuri’s plan to use Namor’s weaknesses against him gains her the upper hand and to be honest all those whiney fanbois crying “but SHE is a girl and SHE can’t fight and beat Namor!!!!” need to shut up because they are WRONG. They aren’t jobbing Namor, they aren’t writing him out of character, these weaknesses are the same weaknesses Namor has in the comics!

Namor’s main weaknesses are: Pollution/Poisons, Being dried out/overheated, his wings being hurt, and some forms of mind control/amnesia.

The fight was more than fair imo and Namor isn’t flawless, he has weakness that were used against him. Honestly I would have been mad if he somehow was unaffected. ALSO I LITERALLY FREAKED OUT WHEN I SAW “IMPERIUS REX” ON SCREEN. lol, my arms were flailing for real.

Shuri weapon is against Namor’s throat and she has the power to avenge her mother, to kill Namor, to take that step further into violence and vengance, to burn the world and move further away from healing and dealing with her greif.

“When my mother died, the last person who truely knew me died with her” Shuri’s loss drove her to become the Black Panther.

Namor’s mother dies, and the last person who truely loved/knew him for him, for being him, not a protector, not a leader, that love dies too.

Ramonda’s words “Show Him Who You Are!” is echoed to Shuri, it’s the same words Ramonda yells at T’Challa in Black Panther, when he fights M’Baku at Warrior’s fall. This is Shuri’s defining moment, her path forks and she has to choose mercy and moving on, dealing with her grief or accepting vengence to forever take a place in her heart. Shuri demands Namor yields, and Namor yields, he got what he wanted, Wakanda’s alliance.

When Namora confronts Namor about him yielding, he even says as much, that what he hoped to achieve he got, and now Wakanda would turn to them when it was time (for them to face the surface world/colonizers)

The action scenes in the movie are amazing, I could watch it a hundred times, the final confrontation between them ends in peace between their peoples.

As I’ve said, this post was mainly focused on Namor & the Talokanil, and I didn’t go into depth with the other plots/characters because I’ve been a Namor fan for years so all my interest is hyperfocused on him and his people.

My complaint: Everett Ross’s entire plot was not needed in this movie, it literally could have been a phone call with the first scene and we could have gotten more scenes with Namor & the Talokanil.

Personally my one biggest gripe is that in the end Wakanda & Talokan should have gone after the main people who were a threat to their nations which was the american government, it was a earlier plot point with Queen Ramonda at the United Nations that was just dropped as the focus shifted over to Namor. I do wish they had keep that plot thread going and both Wakanda and Talokan had teamed up to fight the Government/Surface World etc. but this is a MCU Marvel/Disney movie and Disney/Marvel is never going to do anything so controversial as calling out the American or other governments in present day for their colonizing ways, which is why I feel keeping Colonization as something that happened in the distant past isn’t true. I know the realities of the studios politics and the message the movie was sending and tbh it really followed through on alot of things and my complaints are minor and doesn’t take away the sheer enjoyment and happiness I felt watching Namor and the Talokanil on screen. Also I’m so glad we got to see Namor’s artistic side, which he has in the comics as well.

Once again I am so glad that Namor is shown as a Man of Color and his people are Native Mesoamerican. I’ve always personally felt the coding in his comics meant that we would lose the impact of his story if they stripped him of his biracial poc coding and cast a generic white man. It was always my biggest worry when it came to thoughts of Live Action Namor.

I love how multifaceted Tenoch’s acting was with Namor. Tenoch Huerta is MY Namor, he is the perfect choice for Namor and I’ve stood by his casting since it was first announced.

Created in 1939 by Bill Everett, Namor is imo one of the best characters ever created in comics, and the mcu version is one that is equally as wonderful and complex. I love both versions very much.

#mcu namor #namor #mcu attuma #attuma #mcu namora #namora #black panther: wakanda forever #bpwf spoilers #meta #comic meta #mod: imperiuswrecked

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imperiuswrecked · 1 year

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They are on their way to cause problems on purpose.

And I am on my way to watch!

#mcu namor #mcu namora #mcu attuma #imp draws a thing #black panther: wakanda forever #I CAN'T BELIEVE I'M GONNA SEE NAMOR ON SCREEN #this is what it feels like to win #i literally RUSHED THIS so fast #legit wasnt gonna post then said fuck it its DONE

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scribble-dribble-writes · 1 year

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Hidden talents Wakanda forever version:

Namora definitely sings, she is a siren.

Okoye is a dancer, interpretive dance combined with folklore storytelling.

Attuma definitely knits in his free time or weaves baskets.

Namor makes handmade jewellery. Personalized rings and necklaces.

M'baku loves to cook. He'll spend time in his kitchen baking cakes and icing them.

Ross is an astronomy geek. He slips away at midnight to see the stars.

Shuri likes to dabble with fashion design. If she's not making tech gear, she making a couture gown.

Who else should I add?

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attoye · 3 months

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Namora’s thoughts on Attuma’s crush 😭❤️ vid cred: xblackreader

little sister big brother vibes

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tubbiegordito · 1 year

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Namora x Riri, tambien quiero teta T_T

#namora x riri #riri x namora #namoriri #ririnamora #wakanda forever #mcu riri #mcu namora #riri williams #ironheart #Black Panther 2 #namorariri #f!

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creamecafe · 1 year

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The fact that my most liked post is about Dark!Namor fics and how writers make into something so gruesome and crazy and I have had people reblog it calling me weird for not liking it. Even though that may be my most "controversial" post I still find it funny

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ninasznik · 1 year

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Namora’s several battle uniform concepts. Which one you prefer? 🤍

Designers:

1. Paul Keng

3. Josh Nizzi

4. Josh Nizzi

5. Karl Linberg

6. Karl Linberg

#mabel cadena #mcu namora #namora #wakanda forever #wakanda por siempre

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nellycanwrite · 1 year

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An Order

Part 2 of “A Request” || Attuma x Talokanil!Princess!Reader

Summary: Your kingdom was at stake. Your thoughts are conflicted, your duties now weigh heavily on your shoulders, and the expectations of being K’uk’ulkan’s daughter puts you at risk as you try to talk with Princess Shuri of Wakanda. But you never had to worry—not when your lover, Attuma, was by your side to give you counsel.

Or, in which Attuma would soon realize that his own counsel would put you in jeopardy—bloodied and near death in his arms as you gave him your first order as princess.

Rating: 16+ || Viewer Discretion is Advised.

Word Count: 11.4K

Warnings: A very very angry Attuma and Namor. Heavy angst (oomph). Mentions of violence and near death experiences. Some bits are suggestive if you squint hard enough. Allusions of death. And if it’s any kind of consolation then tooth-rotting fluff too.

Part 1 || Part 2 || Part 3

As the daughter of the feathered serpent god, king of the great nation of Talokan, there were many things expected of you; the wisdom to rule with both mercy and hardened fists, the knowledge and wit that could challenge that of a merchant to negotiate terms to benefit your kingdom, and the grace befitting that of both nobility and divinity.

Of course, you were also expected to be as strong as your father. So strong, in fact, that they had compared the ire of the king to a great catastrophe that equaled the eruptions from the Pacific Ring of Fire.

It was impossible for you to achieve such a level of skill.

But that is why you train.

“Your attacks are still weak, in yakunaj.” My love, he said with an amused smirk. Even with a mask did he extrude such sly confidence that made you weak to your knees.

Attuma made a show of twisting his spear, droplets of sea water splashing across the walls that glowed with luminescent algae. You huffed and poised yourself to attack, your own vibranium spear pointed towards him in warning.

“You forget yourself, Attuma.” With the speed comparable to that of a great missile, you launched yourself forward with a beat of your feathered ankles. You heard him grunt when he put his spear up in defense, the clashing of vibranium creating an unpleasant screech as it collided with each other.

Despite you pushing against his weapon with your enhanced strength, Attuma far overwhelmed you with raw power. He slowly pushed you away and dove down to miss your incoming swing, taking your hips and slamming you into the ground. You felt the air escape from your lungs at the force, the grip of your weapon now long gone and away from your hands.

Attuma took your wrists in his large hand and pinned you against the floor, his masked lips dangerously close to yours. You used this time to catch your breath, your eyes boring into his own.

“Do you yield?” He asked. The blade of his spear had now lodged itself beside your head. You gave him an amused chuckle.

“Never.”

With a beat of your winged ankles, you tucked your knees in and kicked his stomach until he lost his balance. You wiggled your wrists out of his hand and flipped you over, the spear that was once beside you now thrown into the shallows of the underwater cave.

His sheer size required the aid of your two hands, your fingers dwarfed in comparison to his wrists. You leaned forward as you breathed hard, your legs locking his hips into place.

You stayed there for a while; your chests heaving in and out, your breaths falling into sync with each other, the drops of sweat and saltwater mixing together as you gazed into each other's eyes. There were unspoken words of ardor, the promises of a lifetime, and unwavering stubbornness that the both of you possessed in your mock fight.

“Yield.” You gasped out, your hands tightening around his wrists. He chuckled.

“Is that an order?” He cheekily asked. You playfully glared at him.

“I would very much appreciate it if you finally admit the better fighter between the two of us, my love,” you leaned in closer and ghosted your lips over his mask, “now yield.”

“What shame if her majesty's guard was weaker than she, no?”

You yelped when his hulking gait now rose and trapped you in his arms. He slammed you back into the rocks, this time pinning both of your wrists with both of his hands. His powerful legs secured yours in place, and the amused smirk still never left his lips behind that mask. His chuckle was low and sensual, a shiver running up your spine as he leaned in closer to you.

“I would not dare overpower her highness, but I have honor to uphold as your aide.”

You struggled against him, your wings fluttering and aiding your movements. But he held you with all his might—a being such as you had to be held with such great strength that it needed all of his attention. And he was the strongest man in Talokan besides your father.

“You dare pin your princess down?” You asked him with a smirk. His voice was gruff as he hummed, the gritted but silken sound sending heat to the tips of your pointed ears.

“Forgive me for being so shameless.” He did not sound apologetic, rather, he found the situation amusing. The oaken sheen of his eyes held a mischievous glint that made you become hyper aware of the warmth that somehow sent a shiver up your spine.

You found yourself becoming bolder under the influence of his own mischief.

“What punishment do you fancy, oh shameless warrior?” You challenged him while leaning up to press your lips against his mask. You heard the ever so subtle hitch from his breath and felt the grip of his hands tightened around your wrists. “Whatever shall I do to you for this treachery?”

“Yield and I shall let you do your bidding, in princesa. Anything you want.” His voice dropped and made your thoughts hazy; you would have mistaken him for using his hypnotic melody to control you to his bidding.

You bat your lashes at him in faux admiration, over acting the delightful gasp that came from your mouth. You pressed your chest against his, the jewels that adorned your neck making it impossible to satisfy the itch that you desperately wanted to satiate.

“Anything?”

Attuma tightened the hold on your wrists and licked his lips behind his mask, his piercing eyes darkening as he slowly lowered himself against you.

“Anything.”

“Ehem.”

Namora stood by the water's edge, one hand planted firmly in her waist and the other carrying the spear you gifted her for her achievements as the new general. She gave both of you a pointed look and groaned in mock disgust.

“Must you always do that when you train?”

Attuma removed himself from you slowly, careful not to hurt you in any way. He helped you up to your feet and kissed the side of your head as you finally stood. You smiled.

“Whatever do you mean, Namora? The General and I are merely sparring.”

“Don't play coy with me, princess,” she groaned, “you know fully what I mean. And Attuma, have some shame. You're training her, not winning her affections.”

“Everyday is a quest to win my beloved's affections, no?” Attuma made his point by taking your hand and kissing the healing scars from your earlier spar. You felt heat crawl from your neck as he did so.

Namora's face contorted to one of incredulousness.

“Unbelievable,” she almost laughed at the absurdity of it all, but she meant it in good faith, “ever since you have asked for her hand you have been quite bold. Whatever happened to the oh, so patient Attuma who was willing to wait three centuries before confessing to the princess, hm?”

“He could not wait any longer, I suppose.” You laughed when Attuma hissed at your best friend and relative, your hand now resting in his plated chest to calm him. You felt him shiver under your touch.

Attuma rolled his eyes at the both of you. “You speak as if I am not here.”

“And what of it?” Namora challenged playfully. Attuma kicked his spear up from the ground and caught it mid air, pounding it against the rocks as a declaration.

“I'll let you know that I am not to be ignored, especially if it's concerning my love for the princess.” He pounded the brunt of his spear to the floor again, but this time with much more strength that left dents on its wake.

“You dare challenge me? Oh, how frightening.” she twirled her spear around her head and poised it to attack.

“Can we please not do this today?” You groaned. Attuma and Namora always found a way to initiate a mock battle between the two of them. Although the show was impressive in its right, they would often make it more of a spar for endurance; their fights lasting half a day if left unsupervised.

But you had to admit, their battles—especially ones that concerned you or your father—is their little show of friendship. And it was their way to stay in their peak conditions as warriors.

“Is that an order, in princesa?” Attuma turned to you with a wide grin. You sighed.

“It's a request, my love. You know I don't like giving orders.”

“Then consider it fulfilled.” Attuma lowered his spear and stood in attention by your side as if nothing happened. Namora followed suit and cleared her throat, the playful disposition both of them had now fading.

“Thank you, my Generals. Although your love for battle is admirable, I think we have more pressing matters to attend to, no?” You looked at Namora in question. She straightened up and pounded her spear on the ground, the sea water splashing to your feathered ankles.

“K'uk'ulkan wishes all of his fighters to gather, in princesa,” she glanced at Attuma and shifted her eyes back to you, “and your presence is needed as well.”

“Whatever for?” You asked her, your head cocked to the side. Attuma used this opportunity to pick up your spear from the shallows and handed it to you, his fingers brushing over your own. You smiled at him thankfully, your body gravitating towards his out of habit.

“There have been…reports about the surface. I have been spared the details until all of us are present.”

You and Attuma looked at each other in question, but you followed Namora into the water to meet with your king.

Compared to the last few decades that you and Attuma have been together, he now had it in him to swim in stride with you. He didn't lower himself so far down to match the decorum of his nameless self, instead, he could now stand by your side as if you were equals, the titles he had garnered for himself speaking volumes of his place by your side.

He still submitted to you, his oath of piety resounding loud and clear through both words and actions. But you never really did find it in yourself to use your authority to such an extent. He would still follow your words as if they were the Word of truth, and he would still do your bidding even if you didn't ask him to.

Truly, no other man beside him could match the splendor that came with your name, and you had fallen harder for your warrior as soon as you learned that he had done all of this for your sake; so that he could stand by your side without anyone questioning your choice.

You had arrived at the bottom of the underwater coves that led to the entrance of your great city, your Generals now swimming back in respect. You nodded at them as you put your hand through the rock as a key, of some sort, that responded to the vibranium from your decorated vambrace.

Not a second later, a current formed in front of you that pulsed with the energy to propel you forward. You turned to your Generals and grinned.

“Shall we?”

You smiled bashfully when Attuma took your hand in yours as Namora swam forward to guide you. The strong current pushed you forward in speeds that only K'uk'ulkan could even fathom to achieve with his winged ankles. Although you bore the same likeness as him, you never did achieve his speed no matter how much you trained.

As soon as the rapid currents stopped, you waved by passing sea-life and greeted the whales that swam overhead with a joyous laugh as you approached the capital city of Talokan, the rays of the underwater sun now drawing closer as you approached.

“My daughter.” K'uk'ulkan greeted you with a soft smile as soon as you had arrived the throne room. You swam up to him as your Generals stayed behind, your father eyeing the lingering touch of your fingers on Attuma's bicep.

“I hope you are well, father,” you rested your forehead against his, his hands finding purchase on the back of your neck, “Namora told me you wanted to see us.”

“Yes. It is an urgent matter, my child.” His eyes flickered to that of a dark hatred that you could only remember him showing to surface-dwellers. You couldn't help but slowly pull back, your hands holding his and rubbing circles on the back of his own to somehow calm him. You resisted the urge to show fear—fear of such raw emotion that was but a fraction of a second from your own father.

“Then we mustn't waste a second longer.”

You took your place on your throne as a steady stream of other generals, warriors, and council members alike gathered below to wait for K'uk'ulkan's next words, murmurs erupting from your subjects about the possibilities of such a gathering of strong fighters. You had to wonder as well—why did your father call you all here? What had happened on the surface for this to be such an urgent matter?

In the middle of your own thoughts, Attuma swam forward to drape you in your royal robe and rested his forehead against yours.

“Your thoughts are loud, in yakunaj. Your people are worried.”

Your face broke into a grin.

“You mean you are worried.”

“How can I not? I worry for you everyday, my love. Especially after…” You silenced him by putting your pointed finger to his lips.

“It was six years ago, Attuma. I am well and alive. I will not disappear again, I assure you.”

Six years ago the ocean shook with Talokan's grief and rage when you, their darling princess, had suddenly disappeared and turned to dust along with half of your citizens. When you had magically appeared again, materializing on the same spot on your throne, Attuma was the first to cradle you and hold you tight—as if you were to become dust again if he did not hold you any tighter.

He never left your side since, and he constantly doted on you.

“You cannot blame me, my love,” he clasped the gold and jaden pins together and leaned into your ear so only you could hear, “I fear for what is to come. I have a bad feeling.”

“Purge your worries, my darling. Whatever may come we shall resolve together. Now swim back down before father decides to fight you again.”

You smiled and gave him a chaste kiss to the cheek before he descended down to join his ranks with an amused smile, but his worry lingered on his brow, still.

K'uk'ulkan put his hand up to silence his subjects. Not a moment later, the throne room fell into a hush. The water felt still and tense, tension practically surrounding all of you as you waited for your king's next words.

“There are whispers amongst the sea about the surface dwellers' activities. We had let them do as they wished far from our home, deterring them in utmost secrecy of our location. Although Talokan has remained safe, I'm afraid their next mission might compromise our well kept secret for centuries…”

Your father proceeded to tell you all about the vein of vibranium found in the Pacific and the intentions of surface dwellers to mine them dry. Reports from your scouts say of a machine that could detect vibranium—something that filled your subjects with great worry. If that machine could detect the smallest vein of vibranium on the bottom of the deep Pacific, who was to say that they would not find your kingdom rich in the precious metal as well?

Panicked murmurs coursed through the throne room, the voices of your worried citizens reaching a peak that buzzed the waters with anxiety. Fear.

You slammed your spear beside your throne, the vibranium reverberating and beckoning everyone to quiet down. You saw Attuma smirk—what great power you hold to silence warriors of great renown to your beck and call.

“Let the king speak, my brothers and sisters. Do not let your fear consume you. We are Talokan; we do not yield under the threat of surface dwellers.”

“The princess is correct,” your father rose from his throne and held his head up high, “there is no need to worry. We shall attack their base at night, covering ourselves in the darkness of the new moon. We shall eliminate the threat swiftly and disappear as we always have.”

“And what if we are to be discovered, in ajawo?” My king. An old council member voiced his thoughts, “their technologies have grown. There is no guarantee we can hide our attack.”

“The Wakandans will take the blame,” he said darkly, his voice sure and his strategies thought out, “they have so foolishly revealed themselves to the world and given the surface dwellers the opportunity to discover us. It is the consequence of their own actions. And Talokan will remain hidden. I shall discuss our course of action to your Generals—until then, you must prepare for battle.”

You stood and bowed your head before your father and king, putting your hands in the likeness of a serpent's mouth. Your subjects followed suit in reverence to their ruler.

“Líik’ik Talokan!”

Attuma was a man of few words, his actions spoke louder than his verbal promises. Yet in your presence did he always find his tongue spilling with praises for you, vows of his loyalty, and the whispers of his unending love for you at every moment that you were together.

He often told you that you were the very sea that sustained him—gave him life—whilst you placed your forehead unto his. He would pick up his spear and tell you that he was yours to use as you wished; but you never did use such authority.

He was enough. His love was always more than enough.

He told you that you were a strong woman. So strong, in fact, that he would often tell you that you would make a greater ruler than K'uk'ulkan (such a thought would have been treacherous, but he found comfort in voicing his deepest thoughts to you no matter how audacious it would be in the ears of the council.)

But in the face of a great threat, where your father had given you a task that far towered over you in dangerous foreboding, did you doubt those very same words that he would whisper against your skin.

“Are you alright, in yakunaj?” Attuma asked you, his hand caressing your waist as you sat by the rocks of the surface. You leaned into his shoulder—now stripped of the spiked armor that he always wore—and sighed.

“I'm alright. Just…nervous,” you intertwined your hands with his as you watched the stars that littered the sky, “father gave me such a big responsibility. I have never even set foot outside the reef but he expects me to lead a platoon of our finest sirens to initiate the strike. What if I fail? What if I start on the wrong note? What if I disappoint my father? What if—”

“And what if you don't?” He asked you, his thumb painting circles on your sun-kissed skin. “No one doubts your abilities. You will do just fine.”

Attuma watched as your eyes glazed with unshed tears. They were magnificent in every way; even in your sorrow did you outshine the moon that graced the sea.

He caught the saltine gems of your despair on his thumb, wiped it clean from your cheek, and brought his masked lips to kiss the trail that it left in its wake—just below your eyes that fluttered close as he drew near.

“And what if you are wrong?” You asked him, your voice cracking and stuttering.

His brows furrowed.

“Have I ever lied to you? Have I ever been wrong?”

“Well, consider this, what if—”

He silenced you with a thumb to your lips, grazing the supple flesh as he cooed for you to hush. For you to lay your worries at ease.

“What if I kiss you right now to silence your thoughts, my love?”

You blinked in surprise. Only have you noticed the proximity of your lips, of your eyes, of the touches of his fingers across your damp skin.

But you did not pull away.

He ghosted his fingers down to your neck, his touch lingering on the base of your pointed ears. You felt heat crawl up to your cheeks as he did so.

Attuma stared into your eyes, waiting for your response. Your eyes flickered to his lips, then back to his earthen gaze, and then back to his lips.

You burst into fits of laughter.

“...Your mask, my dear,” you giggled, “you cannot possibly kiss me when your lips are sealed in land.”

He pressed his forehead against yours and laughed with you.

“But have I not calmed the storm of your thoughts?” He inquired cheekily. You laughed in disbelief and rested your hands on his barren chest.

“You are an insufferable man, Attuma.”

“And you are simply exquisite, my princess.” He drew himself closer, your bodies sharing what little heat the both of you had from the cool, night air. You felt him playing with the ends of your hair as he continued to dig deep into your very soul with his piercing eyes. He continued.

“You are the darling pearl of the sea. Your wisdom equals that of the king. Your subjects adore you, your warriors revere you, and the council already see you as a prospect to rule in the foreseeable future. K'uk'ulkan assigned you to lead your own platoon outside of Talokan for he knows you are ready. Prove to him that you are worthy of the responsibility he entrusted you with, just like how I had proven to you that I am worthy to be by your side.”

Your breath stuttered as you felt his heart thump in his chest. He chased your hand and held it tightly, as if to tell you that his heart only beats for you. That it would bleed and cease and skip only for your majesty.

What such blessing fell into your hands, you wonder, to grace you with the magnificence of a man such as Attuma?

“...How did I ever become so fortunate to have been given a lover such as you?”

“I am hardly worthy, in princesa. I should be the one to ask that of you,” Attuma tightened his hold, “and I have not become your lover just yet—not when I have yet to prove myself to K'uk'ulkan.”

“Forget what my father thinks, Attuma,” you brushed away strands of wet hair that stuck to his face and gazed lovingly into his eyes, “you have proven more than enough to me that you are worthy to be by my side. He is simply stubborn.”

He scoffed as if he was amused.

“And rightfully so. No one should be able to win your hand without great deliberation.”

“And yet here you are.” You cheekily cooed. His chest rumbled as he chuckled merrily.

“I have not officially won your hand yet.”

You brought his hand to your lips and kissed the knuckles that were littered with scars from his battles.

“Hush now. You have won my hand the moment you have made your vow. I simply cannot think of anyone else to love this much other than you,” Attuma's heart blossomed with pride and adoration as you continued, “and you would make a great king someday. You are perfect.”

“That is for K'uk'ulkan to decide.” You gave him a pointed look.

“That is for me to decide. I will not allow anyone to sit on that throne unless it was you, in yakunaj.”

What such bliss does Attuma feel, you wonder, as soon as you witness his very being light up with such love for you as he hears those words come out of your mouth?

What such contentment did you bring him for the warrior you so loved to laugh in earnest for the joys that you had given him?

Under the witness of the full moon, free of the prying eyes of both land and sea, Attuma grabbed you by the waist and plunged into the shallows of the reef, his mask now discarded with such haste, and his hands tracing your features with such tender adulation that made your heart soar into the heavens.

You were a sight to behold—a goddess, that you were. Basked in beaming light of the late night, fractals of lustrous gems dancing across your skin, and oh, what to say about your twinkling eyes that the stars of the Atlantic would pale in comparison to?

“I love you.”

And with those words of pure ardor, Attuma planted his lips on yours.

And you love him too, you wanted the words to fall in pure ecstasy. But you settled with wrapping your arms around his neck and deepening the kiss.

For your lips were enough to tell him all he needed to know.

The sea was quiet, darkness surrounding you and your platoon as you watched two surface dwellers probe with the machine that connected itself with the veins of vibranium that throbbed on the seafloor. It wasn't much, barely a morsel compared to Talokan's own mines, but in the wrong hands it would cause catastrophic damage.

You resisted the urge to call off the attack—they were still living beings, ones that have family, friends, even lovers. But you gritted your teeth and strengthened your resolve. There was no time for mercy when your nation was so close to its discovery.

“Attuma. Namora.” You called out. They nodded and stood in attention, spears ready and poised.

“Yes, princess.” They replied. You nodded, satisfied with their attentiveness.

“Leave one alive. The man. Father needs information.”

You turned to the platoon under your command, all women whose voice exceeded anyone else's. Their voices reigned supreme in every aspect, their enchanting melodies the testament to the many legends surface dwellers passed on to their kin as bedtime stories.

And you were their leader, the forefront to the hymns of your people.

Attuma resisted the urge to follow after you as you swam forward under the guise of the inky depths. As if sensing the imminent danger the divers are under, they looked around in haste, their nerves up high. He positioned his spear to attack when needed—he was not going to let you get hurt.

You focused your gaze on the man, his eyes flickering with fear. He talked into his comms in panic, his mission now long abandoned as his adrenaline peaked.

And then you started to hum.

It was an enthralling sound, one that your father had taught you when you were younger. It would lead surface dwellers into your arms, charmed by the promises that lay in each note. One of the divers looked around, trying to find the voice that called out to him so warmly—like a mother would to her children.

And you swam forward, just in the line of his sight and away from his partner's eyes, and beckoned him forward with a smile.

“Come to me, child. Come to me.”

Dazed and enamored, he took a step forward. He could not hear the calls of his superiors nor the worried cries of his crewmate. He just had to sink into your arms; mission be damned.

With a speed comparable to the fastest of missiles, you cut the cord that connected him to the surface and dragged him away into the inky depths. You made sure to give the diver a charming smile before you smashed his helmet open—cutting any sort of communication that he previously had—and replaced his supply of air with the mask your people used.

“Breathe, child. You may close your eyes and dream.”

Warriors came to take the surface dweller away upon Namora's instructions. You felt Attuma's hand on your shoulder, his lips landing on your cheek so tenderly.

“You have done well, my love.” He whispered. You gave him a grateful smile before turning to Namora.

“You may do as you wish with the other surface dweller. K'uk'ulkan has no use for them.”

Namora nodded and did her bidding with the other diver, beckoning her squad to wreck the machine as she stabbed the surface dweller and dragged them into the depths of the ruthless ocean.

You could only look away.

“Sisters,” you turned to your platoon and held your spear up high, “it is time. Let the surface dwellers hear the hymns of our people and guide them into the sea. There shall be no mercy for them.”

Attuma joined you as your group ascended to the surface, his hand holding on to your own tightly. You knew he was to rejoin his ranks, so you savored his comfort a little while longer as you started the first notes of your siren's song.

With one last squeeze to his hand, you used your feathered ankles to finally surface in full.

Attuma could not hold back the awe from his face—you were ethereal in every way, ascending into the air like a deity of the sea. The jewels that adorned your body glistened under the artificial lights of the ocean rig, your hands extended out to call forth the charmed souls into your waiting arms.

An enchantress.

Your group of singers eventually followed your melodies, the haunting tunes now taking full effect. Not even a few seconds later, splashes reverberated from the sides of the rig, all reaching out to you and clawing at the air in hopes to get to you; to touch you, to worship you.

Their last sights were that of a goddess, an angel, their deliverance. You had smiled upon them with pity as you sang the hymns of your people.

How these woeful souls longed to even touch your feet and kiss it in full before they succumbed to the frigid waters and met their demise

Their ends were silent. They showed no signs of struggle and surrendered to the arms of sweet death.

At least you had given them sympathy in their last breaths, even if it was in the influence of your hypnotic voice.

But you knew it was just an excuse to justify your guilt.

You closed your eyes as soon as you heard the gunshots from the rig, the company under your father's command now boarding the infrastructure and attacking any leftover surface dwellers that remained. You slowly descended into the water and dove into the awaiting arms of Attuma, your breath hitching as you calmed your racing heart.

“I am still weak.” You whispered, the songs of your people drowning your own voice. But Attuma still heard.

“It is okay, my love,” he caressed your back and placed a kiss on your forehead, “you have done your part beautifully.”

“Must there be death in every battle? In every war?” The answer was obvious, but Attuma still took the time to humor you.

“It is inevitable.”

Following your successful attack on the facility, you had coaxed your surface dwelling captive to tell you everything about the machine they had used to find the smallest hint of vibranium in the Pacific. You had used your voice to allure him into your bidding, and with a simple caress to his cheek and hypnotizing hum against his ear, he had submitted to you and forgot his loyalties.

When the surface dweller finally cracked under your fake attention, there you found the information of the young female scientist who created the whole machine.

Attuma wasn't so happy that you had to use such tactics, but it was the most effective. You made sure that he watched the whole exchange to ease his mind—but it only ended up with you being pinned to the wall and being winded by his lips.

It was to claim you, he insisted. He will allow no man to receive the feathered touches that you gave him, to hum against their ear with your allure whilst he watched.

Your dear warrior was just possessive, you thought in amusement.

Your father was satisfied with your findings. It was added to his already growing pride for your successful first mission away from Talokan. K'uk'ulkan was sure that the kingdom will be left in good hands once he passes his title to you.

And your heart swelled when your father praised you for your exploits and gave you access to explore beyond the reefs of the surface—you were now free to fly wherever you wished so long as you were careful (and of you will be careful. You didn't want this opportunity taken away from you).

Your father had taken it upon himself to go to Wakanda and demanded their queen mother for the scientist. He had deployed his soldiers (including Namora and Attuma) to be wary of the movements of the princess and her warrior aide, the Dora Milaje's general.

“I want to fight that warrior. The female general.” He told you as soon as he came back, his arms wrapping around your waist as he buried his face on your shoulder from behind. You cocked a curious brow.

“Oh? Pray tell, do you fancy them?” He huffed.

“Not as much as I fancy you, my love,” he peppered kisses on the jewelry upon your skin, “I simply admire their skill as a warrior—but you far outshine them in every aspect.”

“Ever the charmer I see.” You laughed. He grabbed your hips to turn and face him and pressed himself closer, your arms wrapping themselves around his neck.

He smirked.

“For you? I’ll always be.”

After they had fought near the waters of the Western surface dwellers, Namora and Attuma had brought home the princess of Wakanda and the scientist that you had sought out for their brilliant minds.

Only, you did not expect the scientist to be a child.

Your father had gone to talk to Shuri, a diplomatic way of coaxing her into a more peaceful negotiation, you gathered. You were left to sit on your throne and rule in your father's stead.

“What is on your mind, in yakunaj?” Attuma asked beside you. You sighed and fiddled with your grandmother's bracelet, the jade from the jewelry shining brightly under the underwater sun.

“Nothing, really. I was just hoping that the talks would go well. There's no reason for this to escalate further than it should.” You urged Attuma to stand closer to you.

He did so without question.

When he finally placed himself by the seat of your throne, you leaned your head against his waist and just surrendered yourself to the safety of his presence. He held you closer to his side, his hands now drawing comforting circles on your shoulders as you overlooked your kingdom.

From the corner of your eye you could see your father talking to Princess Shuri, her being clothed in a suit that could protect her from the pressures underwater.

You watched them attentively.

“Do you think father will allow me to talk to her?” The hands that drew circles around your shoulder ceased.

“There will be no such thing,” he chided, “what if she will hurt you?”

“Do you really think a lone surface dweller, of all things, is enough to hurt me?” You joked lightheartedly. But Attuma did not take it well.

“I promised you that no surface dweller shall ever rest their eyes on you without meeting their death. That will not change now.” Your heart pounded against your chest at your lover's protectiveness. But you just needed to find a way to convince him somehow.

“Maybe I can help my father with the negotiations. From where it stands, I doubt the Wakandan princess will even agree to father's terms.” You tore your eyes away from the Princess of Wakanda and your father as they swam away. Your eyes furrowed when you saw the downcasted look on K'uk'ulkan's face—you took note to approach him about it later.

“A foolish decision, truly.”

“And I understand her sentiments,” Attuma looked at you in question, his head cocking to the side. You continued, “that scientist is merely a child. People stole her inventions and took credit for themselves while she received our ire. And to declare war on the surface…even I could not fathom such scale.”

“The surface dwellers' shortcomings come from their own negligence. If they were to be more careful—”

“I do not wish to kill the scientist, Attuma, nor do I wish for war.”

He paused, the only sound from the throne room were the hums of the vibranium sun and the slow moving currents from the tide. You looked up to him as he shifted ever so slightly, the grip on your shoulder only tightening.

And after a few beats of silence, he asked.

“Why?”

Why indeed, you wondered.

You were sure you were prepared for war. You were sure you were ready to fight for your nation and reclaim the land that you rightfully owned.

But something was holding you back.

“I do not wish for violence. And I pity her, that is all. She is a child whose work was stolen and discredited for. Her mind is great, but she is unaware of the damages she would have caused. And…and I do not wish for more deaths, especially one that is as young as her.” You glanced at your hands—the hands that held blood of countless surface-dwellers. A necessary sacrifice, but it did not mean it felt right.

“Your mercy is worthy of praise, my love. But one wrong move will lead to our discovery. It will lead to war. One surface dweller's life for the life of your kingdom—those are the options you have to choose from.”

He swam in front of you and knelt before your feet, his headpiece now lay discarded beside him as he rested his head on your lap. You wove your fingers through his dark tresses; they were soft as silk.

“Is there no other way?” You asked him. He trailed his fingers up your lap and took hold of your hands, his lips lazily kissing your knuckles.

“Perhaps not. But the king sees this as the best course of action. Believe in his plans; believe in your father.”

Your head dove down into deep thought, your hands mindlessly playing with Attuma's long hair. He leaned into your touch as you massaged his scalp, the delightful rumble from his chest giving you enough motivation to continue.

“...If that is what you think, then I shall listen.” He peered up to you with those fierce eyes that only softened for you.

“And what have you chosen?”

You swallowed the lump on your throat, the decision weighing heavily on your shoulders.

“I choose to trust you and my father. It might be against my heart, but if it is for Talokan, if war is necessary for our people, then it shall be done.”

He slowly rose and took your cheeks into his hands, his forehead now pressing against yours. In those moments did you relish the assurances from his touches, his thumbs unraveling the lines of worry from your troubled brow.

“There is no need for you to spill blood. You only need to give the order and I will do it for you. This is why I am here; it is my purpose.”

You shook your head and placed a chaste kiss on the side of his lips. He chased you as you retreated, your hands now finding purchase on his strong jaw.

“Thank you, Attuma. But I need to do this on my own.” He snapped his eyes to yours indignantly.

“In princesa—”

“I can't keep depending on you, my love. I want to become a better partner for you, to become strong and protect you as well. What kind of a queen would I be if I can't protect my future king?”

Attuma felt a thousand sparks lifting him up to the heavens as you said so. You were strong, stronger than you would admit to yourself. But you always doubted yourself; doubted your abilities, your choices, your authority.

But now, he was honored to witness the paradigm shift of your conviction. It was like the embers he had heard stories of in his time on water—where it was hotter than the vibranium sun that shone, more persistent and brighter than the light from the luminescent algae of your father's hut, and it burned so elegantly while still maintaining its power.

You were beautiful. Strong.

How could he ever say no to you?

“Then let me have the honor to witness your first steps of your will. I want to see you shine, my love. My queen.”

You laughed and drew him closer to you, his body now suspended into the water until his eyes were level with yours, and his lips now mere inches away from you. His arms trapped you in your throne—but you were more willing to submit to him and held prisoner to his affections if it meant you'd spend a lifetime in his arms.

“I am not queen yet.”

He smirked, his leg snaking between yours; anything to be closer to you.

“In my heart, you already are.”

Your father called Attuma and Namora to join him to meet Queen Romanda. You had assured him that you will be alright, that meeting with the Wakandan princess will not harm you in any way. You already had K’uk’ulkan’s permission to talk to the surface dwellers—he trusted that you could protect yourself whenever the need arises (not that you needed much protection. They could not even put a scratch on you even if they tried).

“Be careful,” Attuma told you as he caressed your cheek, his mask covering the purse of his lips as he tucked a strand of your hair behind your pointed ears, “I will not be there to protect you when anything happens.”

“You worry too much, my love. I’ll simply talk to the princess, nothing more.” You cupped his strong jaw and placed a lingering kiss to his cheek.

You heard the sound of splashing beside you, your father and Namora now ready to dive into the water to meet with the Queen of Wakanda. You stepped back and bowed your head low to your king and generals.

“Please return safely.” K’uk’ulkan gave you a nod.

“We will.”

And before Attuma could even hug you goodbye in front of your father, Namora dragged him by the back of his spiked armor and plunged deep into the water. You couldn’t help but laugh when Attuma huffed indignantly, but he obeyed Namora nonetheless.

You took your time to change into far less intimidating garb—one that is free of your armor and only left jewels around your neck, ears, and wrists to show your authority. Beautiful articles of your traditional clothing wrapped you in the finest material that your people could provide. Only the best for their princess, they always told you, wrapped in jades, gold, and pearls.

You brought a basket full of corn and fresh fruits from the surface to offer your visitors something to eat whilst you spoke with them, waving to some of the nearby guards who stood in attention around the frightened women. Their hushed whispers soon come to a halt when they finally see you enter the caves they were held in, the warriors and the attending maid present all bowing their heads in respect.

“Be at ease.” You called out to them. Although your people understood and resumed their positions, the surface dwellers cocked their heads in confusion. You cleared your throat.

“I am not here to harm you.” You spoke in a tongue they would most likely understand. They straightened up and watched you cautiously.

“You speak English.” The Wakandan princess, Shuri, said. You nodded.

“English…yes, that is what you call this language,” you slowly set your basket down and gave them a smile, “I have always been fascinated with the way surface dwellers speak amongst each other. It is diverse.”

“You and Namor are related.” Princess Shuri put the scientist behind her and tried to put as much distance as she could between you. Both their eyes shifted to your pointed ears and the wings upon your ankles that fluttered as it landed on them. The girl, Riri, could only look at you warily.

“Fear not. I swear I bring no harm to you nor your people. And I apologize for not introducing myself,” you bowed your head and stepped back. You wanted to know that you were not a threat, that you could be trusted. You told them your name first, the surface dwellers testing the way it rolled on their tongue. You continued, “my people call me many names, but you are free to choose which name makes you comfortable. Or you can address me by my titles.”

“And your titles are?”

“Radiant Pearl of the Sea, Child of the Feathered Serpent God. Or if you'd prefer princesa, or princess, in your language,” you heard their breaths hitch as you continued, “beloved daughter of Talokan’s king, K’uk’ulkan.”

“So like, what, you’re royalty?” Riri suddenly asked. The bluntness of her question elicited a chuckle from you. It was light, almost enchanting. They couldn’t help but loosen up in your presence.

“I suppose so, yes. But I treat my people as my brothers and sisters. And while you are a visitor to our home, I will treat you the same.”

“And why have you come?” Shuri asked you, her guard still noticeably up. You walked closer to her slowly, your steps deliberate and unthreatening.

“I have heard how you had rejected my father’s proposal. You wish not to make an alliance for war, nor do you wish to give up this child’s life in exchange for Wakanda’s safety.” Shuri’s eyes hardened.

“Either option is out of the question.”

“And I agree with you, Princess Shuri.” Both of their eyes widened in surprise.

“Then—”

“I am not finished,” you put your hand up to silence them. They immediately did so. Riri shrunk down at the sheer power of your words, but Shuri managed to hold her head up high. You sighed, “both choices require sacrifice. Both have consequences. We are both heirs to our kingdoms; we are the same, you and I. Surely you should know this much.”

Shuri’s jaw tightened. You could see her body tense, and her eyes burned with such hatred that were reminiscent of your father’s own fury. You held your chin up high and held your ground.

“And I do not accept such terms! If you claim to agree that such choices are madness, then why have you not said anything?”

You straightened yourself and pursed your lips together.

“Because my feelings do not matter when it comes to the betterment of my kingdom. I act upon what is necessary, not what is wanted.” Your heart lurched as you said those words, but you knew it had to be said.

Your response had left both of them shell-shocked, at least, how could you say that your feelings don’t matter with such a straight face? And follow it up with a formal smile, no less.

You turned to the scientist and offered her a sympathetic look. “Your mind is brilliant, child. I cannot deny that. But your surface-dwelling companions have left you to receive the ire of our nation. I do not wish to kill you, nor do I want to wage war. But if you pose a threat to my people then I will not hesitate to end your life.”

Shuri hid Riri behind her and regarded you with a frown. “Then we are not the same, princess.”

You sighed.

You knew the Wakandan princess would not yield to your words so easily. But there was a hope inside of you that she would understand your words, especially when you and her share the same responsibilities as heir (even if the role was forced upon her after the death of her king brother).

“Your spirit is strong, Princess Shuri. I admire that about you,” you walked forward and untied the bracelet from your wrist—the same bracelet that your grandmother once owned before she passed it onto your father, “but I must abide by my father’s will. I only hope that you understand his intentions; he only wishes the best for his people, even if it means he needs to force his hand into violence.”

You gently grabbed her hand and watched her carefully as you lifted it up. She did not do anything to stop you, nor did the scientist who now watched you in curiosity (her eyes were now rid of fear, which you were glad about). You saw this as a signal to continue, to wrap your grandmother’s bracelet on her wrist and secure it tightly.

“What is this?” She asked you quietly while admiring the jade on the jewelry. You smiled.

“An apology, of sorts, for how my warriors and my father had treated you these past few hours. It was my grandmother’s. My father gave it to me as a reminder of our roots,” you caressed the back of her hand with your thumb, the jewels on the bracelet making you smile, “he had seen…many things throughout his life. Things that even I could not comprehend. He protected us all these years and kept us hidden from evil doers and conquistadors of the surface world. He had set aside his own desires to put our people first. All he has done is for the benefit of our nation—of our Talokan...”

You stepped back and rubbed your bare wrist. It felt odd that your hand was empty of the bracelet that you always wore, but it felt right to give it to her.

“I only wish that you reconsider my father’s offer, perhaps reach a compromise. Before he is a man—before he is my father—he is a king. He made sacrifices for our kingdom, and this one is no different. I’m sure you have seen what we are set to protect.”

For the first time you had seen the princess of Wakanda, she smiled. It was small, barely even there, but it settled the unease that you felt in your heart.

“...I will try. But I cannot guarantee anything.” She told you. Riri finally eased up when your face broke into a delightful grin—one of genuine joy.

Hope blossomed in your chest. Maybe things will be different. Maybe you can avoid the dreaded bloodshed once the Wakandan princess and your father find a compromise.

“That much is enough for me. Thank you—”

“Princesa!”

Just as you were about to turn to your soldier, a stinging pain lodged itself into your abdomen and drew blood. The sheer power sent you flying to the ground, the wings on your ankles trying their best to steady yourself before you fell. You did so with little success, your back now pressed against the damp stone of the alcoves and dyeing it in an eerie scarlet.

Your eyes caught sight of the lifeless forms of your soldiers just behind the rocks, your heart aching at the glimpse of your unmoving brothers and sisters.

An unpleasant rage filled you to the brim, all the stories that your father had told you surfacing into the forefront of your mind.

They were your brothers, your sisters. They stood by you and protected you, always helped you improve the ways of your spear, always teased you when Attuma was near, always the people that you looked upon with favor as your loyal subjects to rule one day.

And now you didn't even know if they were breathing.

The attending maid yelled out your name just as the intruder shot your guard. It filled you with an unfathomable anger. Despite your wound, you found the strength to stand straight and glare at the woman with all the hate that your forefathers bore for the surface world.

A surface dweller dared hurt your people.

“You dare shoot me and my kin?” You asked in your mother tongue. The intruder, a woman in a green and gold diving suit with Wakandan patterns, gaped at the sight of you, her gun still poised.

That shot should have killed you at that distance!

“In princesa!” The attending maid lunged at Shuri and brandished a knife to her neck. You groaned as you put your hand up to the intruder in warning, your other hand pressing against your wound.

You were proud of your people's initiative—such a feat must be rewarded later, you thought.

“You wouldn't want your princess to be hurt now, would you?” You asked the intruder, your whole body seething in fury. She diverted her weapon's attention to your attending maid, her finger so dangerously close to the trigger.

“Drop the weapon and I won’t have to kill you.” She threatened her in your mother tongue. You narrowed your eyes and used your wings to slowly ascend into the air, the wrath that you felt bubbling in the pits of your spirit now overflowing in waves.

Was this the hate that your father had felt all those centuries ago?

You felt the hope that settled into your heart slowly crumble into nothing but pure repugnance.

“You do not speak to my people that way.”

You lunged at her at such a speed that left her gasping as soon as she had witnessed it. You were considerably slower, the wound from your abdomen weighing you down like lead. You ignored the pain and the spurts of blood even as the intruder ducked out of the way just in time to dodge your attacks.

You propelled yourself to twist mid-air, your feet hitting the stalactites on the ceiling and using it to kick yourself forward and into the back of your enemy. You drew your fist back, her body practically open to your strikes—

“Stop! Don’t hurt her!” You heard Shuri yell. In a moment of hesitance did you slow your ascent and shift yourself to the side, your fist now creating a well-sized crater on the stalagmite just beside the Wakandan intruder as you landed.

And in that instant of panic—where your back was turned to her—she shot you again at the back, just barely missing your spine.

You cried out in pain, the stinging sensation pulsing through you tenfold. Whatever hit you had slowed down your enhanced regeneration. In the haze of your thoughts did you hear your attending maid wail and drop her weapon. You felt cold hands cradle your face, shook with great distress, and pressed down your wounds as you heaved in great gulps of air.

“Princess!" You heard someone call out your name—your real name. It was slow, almost echoey, lost in a chasm that was your own dwindling consciousness.

You were getting more and more tired.

“Sister,” you called out to nothing, your hands trying to find something, anything, to hold. You felt cold hands finding purchase on your own, grasping you so tightly that it felt almost painful if it weren’t for the existing pain on your back and abdomen, “are you safe? And—and the o-others…”

“You mustn't speak! In princesa, please, save your strength. K’uk’ulkan will come—the General will come! Until then, you must hold on and heal!”

You could feel it; your consciousness fading, the darkness that beckoned you forth. You could also feel your body heal. A pitiful attempt, really, but it was something to hold onto whilst you tried to battle life and death.

You dangled in the edge of a precipice, desperately grasping what little strings of your life you had left.

You knew you should be worried about something else, but you could not remember what it was. A person, a princess, maybe, who had escaped under your watch. Or has she been captured again? What of the scientist; that brilliant child who you only got the chance to see smile? How did the intruder get in whilst you were present, to shoot you when your guard was down?

How disappointed would your father be, you wonder.

In such a shroud of your uncertainties did you only have one thought, only one name that continued to echo through the abyss that was sweet slumber. He was your only saving grace, the only man who would ever put your mind to rest.

You wondered if he would chide you for being careless, gently knocking on your head teasingly while you try to slap his bicep with a pout. You longed to see that insufferable smirk of his whenever he won a petty argument, how you longed for him to kneel before you and swear his oath again and again. You craved for the adrenaline you always got while sparring him, that sweet joy of winning and losing by his hand.

You missed him, truly, even when you had only parted for a few hours.

“Attuma…”

You wondered if it was the delusions of near death that prompted you to conjure the image of your beloved above you, the feeling of his touch far, far away from your skin as he cradled you closely. Was it the heavens that took pity on you? To have summoned the image of your darling warrior whose tears cascaded down his cheeks whilst you chased the last beats of your heart?

You must have gone mad at this moment—for his lips felt so close to you, his scent almost wrapping you in an embrace, and his fingers held the back of your neck as he spoke to you in great panic. But you were far too gone to make sense of them. You were far too deep into the darkness of sleep to hear his promises, his apologies, his weakness.

And maybe you were crazy enough to believe that he was there.

“In princesa!” You heard him through the fog of your mind. You managed to crack a shaky smile.

“What—” your body jerked up at the pain, his hands steadying you as you heaved a great intake of breath, “w-what troubles you, my love?”

You felt his forehead press against yours, the tremors of his hands going unnoticed as you still writhed from the pain. You felt salves and cold medicine being applied to your wounds—but you did not care at that moment, not when Attuma kept you afloat through the darkness that danced through your vision.

“Who did this to you?” He growled. His eyes were dark, almost murderous. You felt his anger, his rage, the pure unbridled hunger for vengeance.

“Are you really here?” You asked him, your hand now trying to chase the saltine crystals of his misery. You had to make sure that he was truly here; holding you, speaking to you, crying with you. He took his hand in yours and leaned his cheek into your palm. You could feel him—he was real. He was really here.

His first question was lost as he pressed himself closer to you, careful not to disrupt your wounds. Your vision glossed over, the blankets of darkness now taking hold of you, but you tried and tried to push them away. Anything to see him, anything to burn his very image to your memory before you closed your eyes.

“I am here. I—I am here, my love,” he pressed his masked lips on your forehead and rocked you back and forth, “whoever did this will pay.”

“I was—I was wrong to believe in them. I was wrong to…t-to hold on such hope,” you felt his tears mix with your own, the pictures of your soldier’s unoving forms flashing through your minds’ eye. You hoped they were okay. You hoped that they would still be able to open their eyes and see the kingdom under your reign, “they hurt them, Attuma. They hurt my people.”

“And they will pay with their life for their sins threefold.” His anger was apparent again. If you were his enemy, you were sure you were to be buried deep into the earth with his spear plunged into your heart. But his anger calmed you; it was an assurance that your people’s sacrifices would be paid in full.

“Are they—?” You choked out a sob. Attuma shook his head.

“Your soldiers have been caught off guard, but they are fine. They are recovering, my love. And as should you.”

You felt yourself slip into the darkness for a short while as you relaxed. Your people were safe. They did not perish like you had feared they had.

That was enough for you.

“Stay awake, in princesa! Stay awake!” You felt Attuma shake you, the feeling of his warm hands now drifting farther and farther away. Your wounds that throbbed suddenly numbed, and your world spun so fast that you eventually felt nausea kick in.

“Attuma,” you called out, your senses fading in and out. You could feel him any longer, you could not even feel his anger, his love, his worries. You called out to him again, “Attuma…in yakunaj…”

“Stay strong. Save your strength, please. The healers will come for you. For now you should—!”

“Burn them.”

There was a pause, a vacuum of undisturbed silence.

And then you heard him ask.

“What?”

Your breath stuttered. Your voice was raw; harsh. Unforgiving.

“They hurt my people. They hurt my brothers and my sisters. They—they gave me hope…”

You felt yourself finally fall into the abyss of your thoughts. It was raging like a hurricane and beat you with the waves of your feelings of betrayal. Treacherous fools who had so dared to harm you, the princess who holds authority over the seas, who so dared strike down your people in your presence, who so dared force your hand to violence for they had so proven that they are willing to strike you down when you were nothing but understanding to their strifes.

And you continued.

“No one dares enter Talokan, strike down my people, and flee unscathed. This—this is an order, Attuma. Burn them all and let them feel the wrath of Talokan.”

Attuma held you in his arms, all the weight of his rage now pulling him down to the depths of the earth as you finally closed your eyes. The attending maid wailed for their princess to stay strong, for you to keep fighting despite your weakening self.

No one could ever match the beauty you possessed despite the scars from your battle and the blood that smeared the gold of your skin. He wondered how much of his wrath would have shook the earth if he didn’t have you in his arms right now; how much blood would have been spilled, both from the enemy and his allies, if your cold hands did not hold him right now? How much destruction would he have caused for this grief if you had not smiled at him when you closed your eyes and given him the orders that he had to fulfill?

“They will pay,” he found himself gritting his teeth, his jaw tightening, and his body trembling with searing hot fury, “the surface dwellers, the scientist, the whole of Wakanda…they will pay.”

He gently wound his arms beneath your legs and hoisted you up, his masked lips kissing your cheek as he let your head rest on the dip of his shoulder. Your breathing was shallow—just barely there. You were in dire need of a healer.

He heard the frantic splashes of water from the pools leading to the great city. K’uk’ulkan and Namora emerged from the water, and before they could ask why Attuma had swam off in such a hurry, their eyes widened in horror at the sight of you; bloodied and near death in the arms of your lover whilst your attending maid wailed behind you.

“What happened?” Attuma could practically feel his king’s fury. He pushed forward in long strides and shakily caressed your cold cheek, wiping the blood that was smeared on your lip. “Which fool would dare harm my daughter?”

“T-the Wakandans, my king,” your attending maid answered for Attuma, her head bowing in fear at the angered visage of the feathered serpent god. She collected herself and dared not to quiver in his presence, “an intruder struck down the guards and shot the princess twice. They have escaped with the princess of Wakanda and the scientist.”

The room felt heavier now, the ire of the feathered serpent god now shaking the sea with an unsatiated itch for vengeance. He pressed a kiss to the side of your head, the grip of his spear tightening, and his eyes darkened viciously.

“Namora.” He called out. Namora’s jaw clenched as she hit her spear on the rocks, shockwaves reverberating from the vibranium on her weapon. She will never forgive the surface dwellers for what they have done. She will make sure that every blood spilled will be in honor of your name.

“In ajawo.” She acknowledged. K’uk’ulkan turned to her, his bloodlust apparent to all his people to see.

“Gather all our warriors,” he declared, his voice low and deadly, “Wakanda has waged war.”

Attuma reluctantly handed you to K’uk’ulkan upon his command and lingered his hand on your cheek. The king submerged you down the depths in haste, his godlike speed the only way to bring you to the healers as fast as they could.

Namora and Attuma were left in a deafening silence. It was heavy, almost suffocating.

“We will burn the surface world for their crimes against the princess,” Attuma finally said, kicking his spear up and catching it mid air. He pounded it against the floor, cracks and craters now left in the aftermath of his anger, “they will know suffering. They will know pain.”

“Of course,” Namora’s eyes narrowed as she slowly stepped into the shallows, “our people will be ready to avenge her.”

Attuma’s mind flashed to the image of you; your body all bloodied, your hands desperately trying to find him, the way your eyes did not focus on him as if you could not see him crying for you.

You clung to every bit of hope that you might just avoid war. You were clawing at the loose ends of an alliance without the need for bloodshed. But the surface dwellers shot you down despite your mercy. Despite your kindness.

Attuma wondered if he were to be blamed—he should have been more stern with his counsel. He should have told you that there was no mercy to beget on the battlefield. He should have joined you to converse with the surface dwellers and protected you when you were attacked.

He had broken his vow. He did not serve as the shield who would lay its life for you in your times of need. He was not there to keep you safe.

But by your orders, he would gladly become your spear.

“The surface world will know the wrath of Talokan…” he growled, the hate he once bore for the surface now intensifying a hundredfold. Namora could only watch as he swung his spear at the stalagmites and broke the rocks clean in half, his voice now echoing through the land and the sea with a ferocity of a man who had lost their world.

Attuma will burn the world down and show the ashes of their bones in a jaden chest for he was your warrior that took oath upon your throne.

He will dye the sea red with the blood of your enemies for he was the spear that was to be used by your whim. By your beck and call.

He will serve you until his last breath and follow your will to the ends of the earth for he was your beloved to whom would love you without fear.

And he will die for you for his life mattered not when you lie by the feet of your deathbed from his own negligence as your guard. As your lover.

“... for the crimes they have committed against the future queen of Talokan, they will perish by my hand. They will burn down in the name of retribution.”

He looked down at his hands that were still stained with your blood and clenched it into a fist. Attuma hardened his jaw and growled.

“This is an order from the princess.”

Whoops >:))

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