𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐁𝐑𝐄𝐄𝐙𝐄 | 𝐍𝐀𝐌𝐎𝐑

- PROLOGUE

WITH THE BREEZE: NAMOR

There, she stood in a white sundress, looking out towards the Atlantic Ocean. The winds blew her hair behind her shoulders, and her blue eyes scanned the ocean surface. Between her hands rested a vibranium-covered conch shell; vibranium being one of the strongest metals on planet Earth, it kept the beautiful shell safe from any splits or breakage. The conch had been given to her as a gift to communicate to the one who had given it to her. Mawu Munroe, the younger twin sister of Ororo Munroe, never thought she would use it. Yet, here she stood.

With some effort, Mawu blew into it, pausing as the waves crashed against her bare ankles. She lowered the conch away from her gloss-covered lips, and with a slight hesitation, Mawu Munroe stepped deeper into the salty waters. She slowly sank the conch into the ocean once she was waist deep, as the former owner instructed her to do if she wanted or needed to summon him.

Mawu Munroe, born into royalty, knew little happiness. Only the in-between. She and her sister came from a long line of influential magic users. The ancestors of mystical women with white hair, dark skin, beauty, and blue eyes are prominent among the populace.  Their mother had rebelled against her royal obligations; she refused to take the tribe's throne and did not like the idea of marrying a man she did not know. After meeting David Munroe, Princess N'Dare packed her things and ran away with him at a very young age. Mawu and Ororo were born in Manhatten three years later and grew up briefly in New York City.

Trouble began to brew between N'Dare and her youngest brother Sherani, a jealous man —angered by the fact that his gender did not qualify for the gifts granted by their ancestors. Therefore to keep them safe, Mawu and Ororo knew nothing of their lineage, and they never got the chance to ask questions; because shortly after moving to Egypt to escape discrimination and hatred, they were killed, leaving Ororo and Mawu orphaned.

The sisters roamed the streets across Africa, realizing they had incredible powers as they matured. Ororo was granted the ability to control the weather and atmosphere, while Mawu held numerous elemental properties.

It all seemed surreal. If it weren't for King T'Chaka finding the twins many years later, Mawu wasn't sure how they would have turned out. Yet, Mawu also wondered if her life would have been easier. Perhaps she wouldn't have to begrudgingly accept an arrangement the elders thought would be a good option for the nation's future.

Breaking her thoughts, Mawu removed the conch from the water and gave it a curious gaze. She moved it around her hands, questioning if this thing worked as he said it would. Honestly, she couldn't understand how this technology worked.

Suddenly, a head broke the water's calm surface, removing Mawu from her profound studies. The man took a moment to study Mawu before walking toward the shallow waters. Once he stood before her, Namor, King of Talokan, gazed down at her. Water dripped down his face still after he pushed his soaked hair from his forehead. Mawu held the conch close to her chest as her doubts disappeared.

She lowered her eye, unable to keep the gaze between them. Then, Mawu's face began to tingle as her nerves grew with every second.

The events to come gave her every reason to feel uncertain; what she had agreed to frighten her.

Namor tilted his head, wondering why she decided to call for him now and why she appeared apprehensive. From what he remembered, during the short time spent with her, if you want to call it that, she was kind yet never quiet about her feelings. Her compassion towards his servants and soldiers gave him a glimpse of good. The surface world rarely showed him that. In secret, he had grown soft towards her. Believing they were alike in many ways. Both Mutants are trapped in a world that has rejected, feared, and attempted to destroy them.

A shift in his expression softens, and his right-hand lifts from the water. He holds it out slightly before him, palm flat against the air. Mawu finally lifted her head to gaze at his hand. Slowly, she does the same movement with her left, pressing her palm against his.

A gesture that had only been used once;

Mawu had led him back into the waters after convincing Shuri not to kill him. Before she could transport him into the ocean, his weakness was exposed—causing the oxygen he needed to survive out of the water to evaporate from his skin, thanks to Shuri; He watched her as she held him above the water while his skin absorbed the hydration to heal his wounds.

Namor saw his mother in Mawu, and while she held out her hand to heal the cuts on his face—without thinking, Namor placed his palm against hers. Reflecting the similarities of kindness between the woman who birthed him and the woman who saved his life. Since then, Namor has considered this their new greeting or indication of affection.

"Golden Flower," Namor whispered before grinning. Mawu looked at him, studying his features. His smile was genuine and beautiful. If she hadn't known better, his heartless attitude might have been missed.

Mawu slipped her hand away from his, refusing to usher a verbal greeting.

"King M'Baku would like to meet with you," Mawu tells him, giving Namor the conch. "I suggest you do so..."

Namor took the conch with his brows furrowed, but he did not argue. The man followed Mawu once she clumsily waded through the shallow waters. Whatever the King wanted, Namor held some immense ideas. Still, he did not complain. The man only followed, ready to defend himself if necessary.

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