Work Text:
Translations:
jats'uts lool – pretty flower
in ch'ujuk – my sweet
in yakunaj – my love
Rain pelted the windows of your apartment, and the increasingly loud rumble of thunder reminded you of him. It always did. Even the sound of the shower running sent you spiraling into your memories of him. He had completely and irrevocably taken hold of you, and even though it had been over a year since you’d seen him last, you couldn’t shake the grasp he had on you, on your heart.
You had always loved the water as a child; spent hours frolicking up and down the beach, playing a never-ending game of tag with the tide. As you got older, the games eventually evolved into hours of sitting in contemplation, watching the tide inch closer to you until it finally washed over your toes. By the time the brisk water found its way to you, you had figured out exactly what your next steps would be. There was never a problem you couldn’t solve by sitting near the waves, breathing with the sea.
//
The beach near your mother’s house is where you’d first met him. It was dusk, and a storm was brewing on the coast, so the beach was empty of tourists and surfers. It was just you and the waves, until it wasn’t.
You watched as the water began to behave strangely, gently crawling up the beach towards you in an unnatural fashion. The tide was still hours away from being at its full height, and you struggled to make sense of it. Your mother’s voice was screaming at you in your head, telling you to run away from the beach and never look back, but as you stood, the water enveloped your feet, caressing your skin with so much gentleness that you were rooted to the spot.
“Don’t be afraid, jats'uts loo l.”
His voice echoed in your head, taking over your body and soothing every fear building inside of you. It was a kiss to each eyelid, a brush across your cheek, a comforting hug around your waist. It echoed safety and warmth, and you felt your anxiety wash away as he breached the surface ahead of you.
You took a step forward and faltered. His presence was God-like, but not scary, you decided. You could tell how much power he held just in the way he stepped onto the beach, covered in beautiful hand-carved makings. He stopped a few feet in front of you, watching you for any signs of fear, but you had none. Pure curiosity lit your face, and he couldn’t help but smile a little bit.
“Hello.” You breathed, unable to take your eyes off the ethereal being in front of you. He was strong, yes, and likely very powerful, but he was also beautiful. You couldn’t move, still rooted to the spot on the beach.
“Hello.” He responded. “I am K’uk’ulkan, but you may call me Namor, if it suits you.”
There was a gleam in his eyes, one that you couldn’t read, but you continued to stare in awe at him.
“Are you a God?” You asked, voice light and wispy. “My mother always warned me not to meddle with Gods, but you are not here to hurt me.”
His smile grew into a wide grin at your comment about your mother, but he didn’t laugh.
“I am a type of God, I suppose. I am not here to hurt you, but your mother is right, jats'uts lool. Meddling with the Gods is a foolish endeavor.”
He turned to the sea and sat down in the sand, patting the space next to him.
“Sit. I will tell you about my people, and you can decide if you want to continue playing with a God.”
His voice allowed room for disagreement – he was giving you the choice to sit with him or leave – but you lurched forward to sit with him, the decision already made.
“My people,” he started, searching the sea in front of you, “belong to the sea. As do I. We are a formidable presence, which is why we are still a secret from the world. Anyone who dares disturb my people learns rather quickly that we are not a force to be reckoned with. So, if I tell you this, jats'uts lool, you must not repeat it to anyone. Can you do that for me?”
“Yes.” You breathed. Your body had subconsciously leaned towards him, drawn in by his melodic voice. “Why are you trusting me with this, K’uk-,” you struggled to pronounce the name he had given you but tried anyways. He turned to you, smiling as you tried again to say his name.
“I have seen you here, sitting with the sea, many times before, even though you couldn’t see me. You are alone, jats'uts lool , sharing your secrets with the tide. That is why I trust you. Because you trust her.” He nodded towards the water.
He began his tale, describing his journey to you with overwhelming passion. When he spoke about his mother, his eyes hardened, but softened when he looked back at you. You sat with him for hours, in awe of his story and his people. When he finished, he gazed at you in question, watching as you processed the information he had shared with you. Day had fallen to night long ago, but the dark felt trustworthy, like everything being spoken would be held within it for the rest of eternity.
“This feels like a dream.” You finally said, shaking your head. “Am I dreaming?”
“This is no dream, jats'uts lool. But I must return to my people tonight.”
He stood, holding his hand out towards you. You rested your hand in his as he pulled you to your feet, refusing to let go, even though you were both balanced in the sand.
“Will you come back?” You asked, searching his gaze.
He brought his hand to your cheek, gently cupping your face. You leaned into his hold, breathing in the scent of salt and sea.
“I will come back if that is what you wish, jats'uts lool .”
“What does that mean?” You call after him as he makes his way back into the sea.
“I will tell you when I see you again.” He smiled as the sea washed over him, pulling him down into the dark depths of it and out of your sight. You watched the sea for a few minutes, trying to convince yourself that he wasn’t a figment of your imagination, and then finally turned and headed back to your mother’s house.
//
A loud clash of thunder brought you back into the present, in your apartment where you had lost yourself, yet again, in thoughts of him. It had been like this since that first night with him, and only got worse after every visit. Your heart panged with guilt over leaving the coast without saying goodbye to him, but you had to go, had to get away from the town that had taken everything from you, and he hadn’t come on the night you needed him most. The storm would leave eventually, but he would stay with you forever.
It had been almost a full year since you’d left your small coastal town, and you eyed your car keys as the desire to return overwhelmed you. It was only a few hours away, still close enough to be reached by car, but not so close that you would be reminded of your childhood at every hour of the day. Before you could convince yourself it was a bad idea, you grabbed your car keys and bolted out the door.
//
Namor visited again two weeks after the first night. You were sitting on the beach one night, later than you usually stayed, half-convinced that you had made him up, when the ocean began to stir. Your heart leaped into your throat as he made his way out of the water.
You met him halfway up the beach, enveloping him in your arms. The sudden reminder that he was a literal God, and that hugging him probably broke all kinds of rules, had you stiffening against him. The thought quickly washed away as he wrapped his arms around you, tightening your body against his. He was unexpectedly warm, even though the sea was cold, and your skin broke out in goose bumps where it touched his.
“You are real.” You mumbled into his skin.
He chuckled, leaning his head back to look at you.
“I am real, jats'uts lool .”
This is how every reunion went. You’d hug him, he’d swing you around in the sand, and you’d spend hours talking about everything. He told you about his home, a place you dreamed about. You told him about your childhood, how alone you had been for most of your life and how he was probably your only true friend, even though he was a literal God. He talked about bringing the sun to his people, and you were so overwhelmed with something in your heart that you had to remind yourself that God’s don’t love humans the way humans love Gods.
One night, he finally asked you what he’d been wondering about all along as you both sat in the sand, watching the tide make its way up the beach.
“Why do you spend so much time alone, jats'uts lool ? You speak of your mother, but I never see her here with you.”
“I’m waiting for you, Namor.” You tried to brush his question off by flattering him, but he had never been stupid, and you sighed as he refused to let it go.
“No, even before you knew of my existence, you would spend many hours here. Don’t think I haven’t seen you crying. What bothers you, jats'uts lool ?”
You couldn’t fight the tears welling up in your eyes. Namor waited patiently as you worked up the courage to respond.
“It’s my mom.” You finally murmured, roughly wiping the tears from your cheeks. “She’s sick, Namor, and I can’t do anything to stop it. The doctors say it’s terminal. All there is to do is wait, now, for the inevitable. She will die, and I will truly be alone.”
Namor watched you, carefully constructing his response. You couldn’t look at him as you tried and failed to stop the tears flowing down your face. He gently grasped your chin, tilting your head to look at him.
“I am sorry, in ch'ujuk , for your sorrow. I understand the grief of losing one’s mother. It never leaves you, and for that, I’m sorry. But you will never be alone, jats'uts lool. You will have me.”
He leaned in, planting two soft kisses on your eyelids and wiping away the tears from your cheeks. You couldn’t stop yourself from capturing his lips with your own. You didn’t think about the consequences, or how many rules you were definitely breaking by doing it. He didn’t seem to mind, though. He grasped your waist, roughly pulling your body towards his.
He laid back on the sand, pulling you on top of him as his tongue explored every inch of your mouth. You rested your knees on either side of his waist, grinding into him. His hands couldn’t figure out where to rest, running up and down your body, cupping your head, and squeezing your thighs as you grinded into him again.
The previous conversation finally caught up to his thoughts, and he gently pushed your body a few inches away from his. Your lust slowly warped into confusion at his abrupt stoppage.
“Not tonight, in ch'ujuk , when you are vulnerable and sad.” He closed his eyes, tightening his hold on your waist. “When I take you, I want it to be because you want it, not because you are sad and in need of comfort.”
“I’m not-,” the look he sent you buried any attempt of continuing what had transpired. Namor was right, and you couldn’t deny his assumption that you needed comfort more than anything.
You sighed, resting your head on his chest. He held you tightly as another round of tears engulfed you, racking your body with ugly and guttural sobs.
“It will all be okay, in ch'ujuk . You will always have me.” He murmured, running his hand over your hair in a soothing gesture.
When it was time to part ways, you walked him into the water, clutching his hand in yours. The tide, usually violent by this time of the night, was peaceful around you. It always was, nowadays. He cradled your face, kissing your nose lightly.
“I have something for you.” He murmured, gently grabbing your hand. He began to tie what was probably the most beautiful piece of jewelry you had ever seen around your wrist. “It was my mother's, and now it is yours. It is a beacon of strength and persistence. My people wouldn’t exist without it. Whenever you are feeling weak, let it guide you towards peace.”
A wave of emotions overwhelmed you, and you couldn’t breathe. The significance of him gifting you something so special to him was so incredibly generous that you couldn’t stop yourself from crashing your lips into his. He kissed you in sweet, unhurried motions, letting you push every emotion you were feeling onto him. He would take all the hurt away if he could. Carry it on his shoulders so that you could breathe easier. It wasn’t just a connection with you, it would always be something more, something galactic, something intangible but never missing from his being.
When he finally slid back into the water, you clutched the braceleted wrist to your chest and swore to never let go of it.
//
The sight of the sea after so long calmed your nerves, as it always did. You had parked in front of the house that had belonged to your mother for so many years and headed towards the beach where it had all started. The house belonged to you now, but you hadn’t stepped foot in it since the awful night that had sent you scurrying for dry land, far away from the world you’d grown comfortable in.
When you stepped onto the beach, your nerves resumed their anxious drumming. The last time you’d been here, you had been so angry at the world, so incredibly grief-stricken and so sad. Your mother had gotten pneumonia, a curse that had taken many sick people before her, but you were convinced she would pull through. When she didn’t, and you had to watch as EMT’s rolled her body out on a stretcher, you had stormed to the beach, intent on burning the world around you.
You had called to Namor, begging him to take you away from here. You prayed and cursed and screamed, pounding at the sand with your fists, but he didn’t come. You sat with the anger until it finally warped into an incredible sadness, swallowing you whole. When dawn finally cusped the horizon, and you had finally accepted that he wasn’t coming, you had turned from the beach, climbed into your car, and driven far away. You hadn’t come back, until now.
The storm had followed you back to the coast, where it was brewing something heavy in the skies above you. A light rain had drenched through your clothes on your walk from your house to the beach. It was dangerous to be so close to the water when the skies looked like this, but you didn’t care anymore. You needed to be with the sea, with him, even if he hated you for leaving.
You sat on the beach, watching as the rain grew heavier around you. The tide was violent and angry, whirling and crashing hard onto the sand in front of you. That’s fine. You shrugged. Let it be angry with you.
A stirring in the sea had you bolting to your feet, running towards the turbulent water. Namor stalked onto the beach, head swiveling back and forth until he saw you. You couldn’t help the sobs coming from your chest. You fell to your knees in front of him, clutching the bracelet you had never removed from your wrist to your chest.
“Namor.” You mumbled, voice strangled and weak. “Please forgive me.” You sobbed into your hands, dropping your head. You couldn’t look at him, but you would accept anything he gave you, even if it was anger.
You felt his presence before you felt his touch. He slowly wrapped his hands around your wrists, gently pulling your hands away from your face. He was kneeling in front of you, concern written on his face.
“ In yakunaj , where have you been? The sea has been missing your presence for a year now. Why did you leave? Why did you go somewhere I couldn’t follow? Why did you hide from me?”
“Namor,” you breathed, voice breaking. “My mom. She-”
You couldn’t say it. You hadn’t been able to since that fateful night a year ago. But Namor knew, sympathetic expression dawning on his face as you spoke.
“Oh, my love .” He murmured, pulling you into his chest. You wound your arms around his neck, holding him tightly. You squeezed your eyes shut, relishing his warmth. “I am sorry you have been dealing with this alone. The sea called to me, told me you were hurt and angry, but I was far away, and by the time I got here, you had left. I’ve come every night since, but the sea no longer held your presence. I could not find you, in yakunaj .”
“I’m sorry.” You mumbled into his skin. “I’m sorry for leaving. I've hated myself since I left, but I couldn’t face what I’d left behind.”
“Do not apologize for your grief, in ch'ujuk . I am glad you are here. I am glad you are safe. I’m sorry I could not protect you from this.”
You pressed your lips against his, something you’d dreamt about doing every night since you’d left. After all this time apart, you finally felt like you could breathe again. He was here, and he didn’t hate you.
“ In yakunaj , my people have been working on a way for me to bring you home with me, so we can rule the seas together. It could be your home, with me. Is that something you would want?”
You gasped at his proposal, mind whirring. “Do you mean it, Namor?” You murmured, searching his eyes for false promises.
“Of course, jats'uts lool . They took notice of my absences after we met, and I could not lie about falling in love with a human from the surface. Some were weary, understandably so, but the sea whispered to them about your gentle heart, and the sea does not lie. They have already begun constructing a throne for you.”
“Take me home, Namor. Your home.” You whispered, heart aching at the thought of Namor telling his people about you, at the thought of them accepting his love for you.
“I love you, in ch'ujuk .” He murmured, capturing your lips with his.
“I love you , my king.” You responded against his lips.
The surface world had never really felt like home to you. The sea had been your home long before Namor had stepped onto the beach that fateful evening so long ago, but now it beckoned you into its warmth. It called to you, and you would be a fool to ignore it. Yes, meddling with Gods was a foolish endeavor, but Namor was your home, and there wasn’t a chance in the world of you turning away from him now. You took a step into the water.
Home.