Ororo crouched in the darkened Cairo alleyway watching her mark. She'd been tailing him for the better part of 3 hours waiting for the opportune moment to strike. So far she'd surmised that he was wealthy (the expensive clothes were enough of a tell) and that he was generous; he'd stopped 4 times to give to people begging in the streets. He seemed kind, which was chipping away at her resolve to continue, but the Shadow King wanted the amulet that hung around his throat.
Ororo sighed; she hated stealing but it was necessary. In addition to his mind control, the Shadow King used other methods to ensure her complete cooperation. He'd abducted a family with a young daughter who was about the same age she'd been when he'd forced her into his service. He'd threatened their lives if Ororo didn't bring him back the amulet. It was his way of toying with her. He knew she'd never allow another to suffer as she had when he'd killed her parents. He was showing her that he did not need his powers to have her completely in his control.
She took a steadying breath and looked back at the man; what was one piece of jewelry against the lives of three people?
He was getting up from the café where he'd been talking with some friends. Smiling, he waved them away, choosing to walk in the opposite direction from where they were going; now was her chance.
Stealing silently out of the alley, she joined the throng of people in the street. It was late afternoon and the sun would be setting within the hour. Ororo closed her eyes and concentrated. The clouds thickened and rain began pouring down. All around the people scrambled for cover. Ororo joined them, pretending to slip and trip, grabbing onto the target for balance.
"Apologies." She said, getting to her feet and rushing away…until a warm hand closed around her wrist, pulling her back.
"Nice try little girl."
She turned and looked into the eyes of her mark. He was much younger than she'd believe; only a few years older than her. He seemed amused, intrigued, but strangely not angry.
"I noticed you tailing me earlier." He said, tilting his head and looking at her. "You're quite good." His voice carried a distinct Wakandan accent that made her shiver slightly. She'd underestimated him; he might be young, but he was not someone she wanted to be on the wrong side of…and she'd just robbed him. She decided to remain silent.
"What is your name?" He asked.
"I am no one." She replied. He laughed. It was deep and rich and reminded her of velvet.
"I hardly believe that is true." He looked up at the sky where the rain was still pouring onto their heads. "It is strange." He continued. "I was assured good weather for the duration of my stay in Cairo."
Ororo kept her fingers closed around the amulet in her pocket; it would be so simple to strike him down with a bolt of lightning, but she didn't make a habit of hurting her targets; there had to be something to separate her and the Shadow King. He was brutal and she didn't want to stoop to his level.
"Let me go." She said.
He captor raised his eyebrows. "In Wakanda there are legends which tell of a family in Kenya where the women have hair of silver and eyes like water. It is said they control the skies."
"Spare me your bedtime stories." Ororo said. "Release me."
"You have something of mine." He pointed to her pocket. Ororo panicked.
"He'll kill them if I don't bring it to him. I don't know why he wants it, but he's going to kill them."
The man's expression turned hard. "Who threatens you?" He demanded. "Who believes they have the right to control a weather witch?"
"Please." Ororo pleaded. "He's angry already." It was true; the Shadow King had appeared at the back of her mind urging her to blast him and run. The man in front of her frowned, but released her wrist.
"I shall see you again, weather witch." He vowed.
Ororo paused for an instant before running away. As she darted into a side street she felt the eyes of the Wakandan man; watching her like a panther.
A month later when Charles Xavier freed her from the Shadow King's control she took the amulet back from his stores, vowing to find its owner and return it. It wasn't until years later that she got her chance.
The Avengers and X men were meeting to discuss a potential partnership. As the Avengers walked into the X mansion, Ororo's eyes were drawn to the tall man who stood apart from them. Black Panther looked at her, then walked straight over to her; his movements both graceful and lethal. Ororo held her head high; her eyes widening as he pulled off his mask.
"It appears we were destined to meet again, weather witch." He said, taking her hand and bringing it to his lips. "I am T'Challa, King of Wakanda."
"Ororo Munroe." She said, putting her hand on the amulet she'd worn around her neck ever since she was freed from the Shadow King's control, intending to remove it. "I believe this is yours."
"Keep it." T'Challa's hand touched her wrist and stilled her. "It suits you." He brought her hand down, still holding it in his. "I am more interested in hearing the tale of how you came to need it."
Ororo hung her head. "It is not an easy one to tell."
"I have found that the most difficult stories are often the one we are most in need of sharing." T'Challa murmured. "Is there somewhere we can speak in private?"
Ororo noted with amusement the confusion of the Avengers and Xmen and nodded. "Perhaps a tour of the grounds is in order." She suggested, eager to be away from their questions.
T'Challa smiled and put his hand on her arm and motioned for her to lead.
"So." Clint Barton said as the group watched them leave the mansion. "I guess they know each other?"