Con La Brisa

two

Toussaint twisted in his aunt's arms and talked to Namor who was genuinely listening to the little prince.

Shuri lifted her nephew onto her other hip, in order to place her palm on her lab door, letting it recognize her DNA, then typing in her override for guests and finally, making sure things were childproof.

Her nephew was very much like her, he was easily the smartest child she had ever met but still retained his childhood innocence.

He also was just as curious as she was, wanting to learn about anything and everything.

So as he grew, Shuri made sure to childproof her lab, just in case, if he thought he could somehow sneak into her lab.

"And when we're in Haiti, lots of people try to ask Auntie out on dates, but she always says no, I know she misses my Baba a lot," Toussaint whispered to Namor, who frowned lightly.

He disliked how much grief and pain, his Princess carried, he wanted to take all of her grief and pain, to only have her be happy, loved, safe, content.

"Perhaps your Auntie needs someone who understands her pain, little prince, one who can make her truly happy," Namor murmured back to the little prince who nodded in agreement.

"If you two are finished gossiping, come on into my lab," Shuri laughed prettily as she re-adjusted her nephew on her hip and held out her hand for Namor.

Her claws had fully retracted but her hands and wrists were small, her nails were beautifully manicured and sharp as well.

Namor interlaced their fingers together and brought them up to his lips, pressing a kiss to their interlaced fingers.

Shuri blushed as their dark eyes met in an expressive gaze and then smiled shyly as she led him into her lab.

Namor glanced at his surroundings in wonderment as he was in awe of his Princess and all of her inventions.

It smelled of her, sweet like the passion fruit he adored as a child, of pomegranates which he knew was from her shampoo and conditioner.

But the faint scent of papyrus scroll caught his attention as his eyes narrowed in a gorgeous mural of the late King T'Challa in the colors of the Ancestral Plane with his hands on his younger sister's shoulders, half of her was the famed Black Panther and there was a teasing smirk on her beautiful face.

It was absolutely breathtaking and Namor knew he wanted to see her awe of his kingdom, of his own art within his Palace.

The hope in King T'Challa's face was bittersweet to see, Shuri had done well in capturing her older brother's likeness.

Toussaint reached out to touch his late father's mural and murmured a prayer to the Goddess Bast, who protected them.

"That is my older brother, the late King T'Challa, he is the reason I'm the way I am, when we were children, he would tell me how smart I was and how I could help Wakanda better protect herself," Shuri reminisced with a sad smile.

Her free hand reached out to lightly touch upon her brother's hand and Namor followed her lead.

As he stared at the kind face of the late King, he felt empathy for his Princess.

She had lost her father and then her brother in so little time.

He had lost his mother when he was still just a child, just an innocent child.

The world had taken too much from them for them to remain children.

However, just as he had Namora, Attuma and his people, his Kingdom, his Princess was not alone.