Chapter Text
The day she finds him is a day like any other. Shuri is taking her usual walks along the island’s beach when she notices a man collapsed in the sand, some ways away from the sea, his arm outstretched in the direction of the tide.
She hurries over to him, and the broadness of his back doesn’t escape her notice as she nears him.
Shuri crouches down beside the man, baffled at the green bottoms, intricate gold armbands and gauntlets and a blue-and-gold neckpiece with pearls. He’s lying chest-down in the sand, his head turned to the side. His tousled, dark hair looks thick, and he has a neatly trimmed beard and mustache along his jawline. He’s even wearing jade at his ears and through his nose.
Hmm. She creases her brows. He has somewhat similar features to the Taíno people that they cooperate with on the Island, but his clothes are very different, as the island natives wear little to no clothing.
His breath is faint, and when she checks his pulse at his wrist (also faint), his tan skin feels unnaturally dry.
Her brows crease. Water.
Had she been an ordinary human, she wouldn’t have been able to carry him, in her arms, back to her house near the beach. Her tribe drank heart herb tea often enough; they had even brought a bushel of the herbs with them to the island and planted them near the village. She could always feel the difference afterward: in her strength, speed, and stamina. She does her best to focus on getting him back as quickly as possible. He smells like the sun and the water. But not the water of the sea. More like a waterfall. Fresh and crisp. And it’s doing funny things to her stomach.
Shuri lays him on the bed in the only spare room, making sure to at least drape the thin blanket over him so it covers everything from his chest down, to prevent any more distracting thoughts.
She wets a cloth with some cool water and lays it on his forehead. Almost as soon as it touches his skin, the man shifts and mumbles something in a language she doesn’t know.
When she comes back into the room with a cup of water, he stirs, his lashes fluttering. She drags a stool over to the bed and gently lifts his head to feed him some water.
He downs the whole cup in seconds before falling asleep again.
Shuri checks back on him an hour later, and without warning, he sits upright in the bed as she enters, startling her and making her gasp.
“Bast,” she hisses, resting a hand over her chest to calm her pounding heart. Don’t scare me like that.
He says something in that same language she doesn’t know. And switches to at least two other languages, perhaps, Shuri is assuming, saying the same thing.
“I’m sorry, I don’t understand.” She’s about to say the same thing in Taíno, but he blinks, looking rather surprised.
“Ah. Wakandan.”
Her eyes widen, but she nods. He speaks Xhosa?
“Where am I?”
“The Island of Tall Mountains.”
There’s a moment’s pause as his dark eyes sweep down her body and she feels a prickle of awareness on her skin, but dares not fidget in front of him. Finally, he speaks again. “And what is a woman from Wakanda doing on this island?”
“Some of us have settled here to facilitate trade. We have the Taínos’ consent.”
“I see.” His face darkens for a moment, and she unconsciously steps back.
Shuri has a feeling he wants to ask more, but if he does, he keeps quiet. “Your Xhosa is really good.”
His face softens. “I learned it while traveling.” He says it off-handedly, and for a moment, she wonders at this.
But if she, Nakia, and other Wakandans had been cautiously welcomed by the Taíno people, then she supposes the opposite is also possible for this man. Perhaps he's a trader of some sort.
“I come from the Yuca Peninsula,” he continues, as if he’s read the question lingering in her mind. He points out the window, to the ocean. “To the west. Have you heard of it?”
She shakes her head, but a part of her is surprised he so readily tells her this.
He clears his throat softly. “No matter.” There’s a moment’s pause before he speaks again. “You saved my life. And for that, I’m in your debt. It’s not often someone is able to save a g—” He clears his throat. “A man like me.”
Shuri creases her brows. All I did was give you some water. She shakes her head. “I did what any decent person would do.” She hesitates. “Do you have a way to get home?”
He huffs out a laugh. “You don’t need to worry about that.”
She blinks. What a strange response. “Perhaps you should rest a little longer. This is a spare room, so you can stay for a few days to regain your strength.”
The man smiles, and for a moment she’s stunned by how boyish and handsome and approachable he looks. He tosses the blanket off, revealing his chiseled chest and abdomen again. Her face heats as she averts her eyes.
“I am already recovered.” He steps closer, and she wills herself to stay put. He’s not much taller than her, but his aura is powerful, as is his musculature. “I would reward you for saving me. What do you desire?”
She resists the urge to laugh. “I don’t think it’s anything you could do.”
His dark eyes search hers. “Try me.”
Shuri shakes her head. No one can bring my brother and Baba back. When she glances at him again, her eyes widen a little at his intense gaze. “No rewards. If you’re sure you’re recovered, I just want you to get home safe.”
“Hm.” He tilts his head, a little, and walks past her through the house towards the front door. He turns on the threshold. “Well, if you change your mind, I live on… the other side of the island.”
She rolls her eyes but can’t help the small smile tugging at her lips. “I won’t change my mind.”
“We’ll see.”
Persistent, isn’t he? “The way you speak is strange,” Shuri admits. “A reward shouldn’t be expected for saving someone’s life.”
He opens his mouth and then shuts it, looking conflicted.
She clears her throat as the silence stretches between them. “I, er… never got your name.”
“Ch—” he hesitates, frowning. “Perhaps Namor would be better, for now.”
So, he has two names. And the one he has given her sounds peculiar. “Namor, then. I’m Shuri.”
“Shuri.”
Something seems to purr in pleasure within her when she hears this.
Namor visits her the very next day, and when she opens the door, he’s completely soaked on her front step.
“Are you alright? What happened?” Shuri’s about to turn on her heel to fetch some towels but he stops her.
“Shuri, it’s fine!” He laughs, running a hand through his wet hair. “I was swimming in the ocean.”
She looks at him, doing her best to not be distracted by the rivulets of water running down his chest and abdomen. “The ocean? I thought something had happened to you!” She can’t help but laugh at his expression. After calming down, she asks, “Is there something you need, Namor?”
“Yes. Have you thought of a reward yet?”
“It’s been a day. I have not, and I won’t be changing my mind.”
He returns to her house a couple days later, with a basket of fish in his arms. They look nothing like any of the fish she and Nakia gather with the Taíno people, so Shuri knows they’re not from the ocean. Or at least nowhere near the island. But when she asks Namor where they’re from, he gives a vague answer about some river.
“Is there anything you need help with? Anything I can do to help?” He looks so eager; she smiles at his tone.
There isn’t, but there’s plenty to do in the village, so Shuri knows that she’ll most likely need to introduce him to Nakia soon.
A few days later, Shuri brings Namor with her to the school Nakia teaches at; the Wakandans had built it to foster communication between their people and the Taínos. She’s told Namor to dress more simply, and to his credit, he has. The only time she’s seen him with all the gold and jade jewelry was when she found him that day on the beach. But he did keep the jade at his nose, and the jade earrings are significantly smaller and simpler than the ones she remembers seeing him in.
The jewelry, and him claiming he lives on the other side of the Island, are suspicious to her. He’s clearly pretending to be someone else. No commoner wears that much gold and jade. But she decides to leave it be. He doesn’t need to tell her everything now. They are still strangers.
Shuri finds Nakia in the garden with the other teachers and children, Wakandan and Taíno alike. She’s attended some classes with T’Challa, where they grow yuca, cassava, squash, beans, and pineapples.
Nakia spots her and her gaze looks rather startled as it settles on Namor beside her. She locks eyes with T’Challa, who can’t help but keep staring at the man, curious.
The woman mutters something into a teacher’s ear before weaving her way through the garden and ushering them a respectable distance away from the school.
“Is this the man you saved from the beach? Namor?” Nakia asks as soon as she turns to face them.
Shuri nods, and Namor turns to look at her.
“You told her about me?”
“Of course, I did.”
Nakia laughs, but Shuri sees that her eyes remain guarded. “Saving men who washed up on the beach is… uncommon, to say the least. My name is Nakia.”
“Greetings, Nakia,” he bows his head. “I’d introduce myself, but Shuri has given you my name already.”
Shuri feels her lips pull up into a small smile as Nakia glances at her.
“Where are you from?” The woman asks. “Forgive me for prying, but your clothes are not the same as the Taíno who live here.”
“I am… originally from the Yuca Peninsula.” He glances at Shuri as he says this, and she notices that he sounds more hesitant than when he first told her, just a few days ago. “But I enjoy traveling.”
“Do you have a residence on the Island?” Nakia raises her eyebrows. Shuri can almost hear the unspoken question: with the Taínos’ consent?
“I’ve kept all my belongings in a canoe. Hidden it in a cove.”
Namor’s story seems feasible for now, and Shuri can tell Nakia is making him uncomfortable, so she intervenes.
“Are you certain you still wish to be introduced to the village?” she asks. She meets Nakia’s gaze, and the woman gives her the tiniest of nods.
“If my help is needed, I can give it,” Namor says.
“What skills are you confident in?” Nakia asks him.
“Fishing.” His response is immediate. “Hunting. I can also help with construction.”
Shuri nods. She has no doubt of that, given his musculature.
“Very well. Return here tomorrow and I will introduce you to the village.”
It doesn’t take long for Namor to be welcomed by the village. Both the Wakandans and Taínos seem to adore him (Shuri was surprised to learn that he knew enough of the Taínos’ language to communicate, as well).
Everywhere Shuri looks, he is doing something beneficial. Helping the village’s other men build new homes. Helping fish, hunt, and gather food for the people. Playing and looking after the children. He’s particularly kind and sweet to little T’Challa, and although even Nakia remains guarded at first, she relaxes after T’Challa excitedly tells them how much fun he has swimming with Namor. Even Khwezi, a Wakandan man courting Nakia, has nothing but decent things to say.
Despite all this, Shuri can’t help but notice a couple things. Like when he’s helping haul logs to build homes. Namor’s strength seems completely effortless. He doesn’t even break a sweat after a day of construction, which is impossible.
When she asks him about it, he shrugs. “I don’t sweat much,” had been his answer. “I’ve been like this since I was a boy.”
But he does take longer breaks after she mentions this, and she notices that he also begins to bring a damp towel around with him.
Namor quickly becomes the talk of the village. Shuri knows he’s captured many young women’s and men’s attentions. She doesn’t blame them in the slightest. She had already found him handsome when she first found him on the beach. Watching him help others and play with children, particularly T’Challa, makes something flare inside of her. He’s already good-looking enough on his own, and all these actions just make him more attractive to her. Outrageously so.
But it almost bothers her that such a man has arrived at their village. It almost feels like he doesn’t belong. He seems to ooze this aura. An aura of power and nobility that almost makes him… inhuman.
She wants to be suspicious of him. She really does. But her gut tells her he isn’t bad. And she feels something, a connection. She’s felt it since he first woke in her cottage.
The weeks seem to fly by as they get closer. They fish and gather seaweed together and hike around the waterfall and beaches. Shuri can’t believe she’s known him for a couple months.
He seems to be more sensitive to certain things. One time, as they’re walking along the beach, he stops and turns his head towards the trees and bushes in the jungle. There’s a few moments of silence before Shuri finally hears rustling herself.
“What is it?”
A wild dog trots out of the foliage, its pointed ears pricked in their direction.
Namor relaxes. The dog just blinks at them before ambling off in another direction.
“You could hear that? All that rustling, even before the dog appeared?”
He nods. His eyes look wary.
“How?”
Namor shrugs, and says, “I’ve been like this since I was a boy.” He continues walking ahead of her, and Shuri narrows her eyes at his back before following suit.
It hasn’t escaped her notice that he used the same answer before.