Author's note: Hey guys. first, I would like to say thank you to everyone who has favorited or alerted this story. I overwhelmed with gratitude about the responses, even more so considering that I was apprehensive about posting it on here. Also, I would like to point out that if you have any questions or any critiques regarding this story, please feel free to put them in the review sections, and I will respond to them as best as possible. Also, I have OC Bios for Rose and Weza on my Tumblr blog (The links I have on my profile page doesn't work, unfortunately), so if you want go to to Tumblr and looks up maddiestudentwritergaines, if it's easier, you can message me there and I will link you the posts so you won't have to fish through my Tumblr blog looking for it. All in all, I hope you enjoy this chapter, please read and review.

October 25, 2016
12:10
The Kitchen

Dear Diary,

I just gave T'Challa his noon tea and finished a few chores, so I have time to explain why I was in his chambers this morning.

For the record, it didn't involve anything I wouldn't tell my future grandchildren.

Whenever a child would have a nightmare, their natural response is to run to mama or baba to help make them go away. I, on the other hand, was different. Instead of running to my baba, I went to the one person who I knew could help me feel less afraid. T'Challa.

One time in particular, I awoke out of a nightmare—most likely about the monster under the bed, one that would generally frighten an eight-year-old—with tears streaming down my face. Snuggling my stuffed panther to my chest, I slipped out of bed and walked out of the guest house where baba and I lived so I could find T'Challa. Once I arrived at his chambers, I quietly entered and went towards his bed where his ten-year-old body was sound asleep.

"T'Challa?" I tearfully whispered. When I didn't get a response, I took it upon myself to climb in next to him, and the shift in the bed caused him to stir.

"Rose," He addressed me softly, his voice full of sleep, "what are you doing in here?"

"I'm scared," I answered him with a quivering lip while fresh tears began to fall down my brown cheeks. "Can you protect me?"

He reached an arm out towards me and pulled me into a warm embrace. A few minutes passed before I fell asleep to the sound of his breathing.

The next morning, baba was frantically looking for me and I got the fifth degree about almost giving him a heart attack.

That brings me to why I was in his chambers this morning.

Around 2:30, I jerked out of my sleep—panting, sweating, and shaking. My heart was pounding so hard that I thought it was going to burst out of my chest. In an effort to calm myself, I curled into the corner of my bed and hugged my knees to my chest, hiding my face in them while I futilely tried to get my breathing under control. I soon felt Leo's tongue on my forehead as if he was trying to console me, but I gently pushed him away.

"No, no, no," I whispered while more tears flowed down my cheeks, receiving a nudge to my shoulder.

Even though I tried to calm myself down, the shaking and the tears wouldn't stop. I willed myself out of bed and began walking towards T'Challa's chambers with Leo leading the way. When we arrived at the door ten minutes later, I knocked, but it was left unanswered. I assumed T'Challa didn't hear it, so I opened the door and Leo rushed in. To my surprise, the disheveled bed was empty, but his whereabouts were soon discovered by the sound of a flushing toilet and running water from his connected bathroom. The door to the bathroom opened, illuminating the dark room with a little light, and Leo instantly walked in.

"What are you doing in here?" I heard him ask Leo, sounding surprised yet delighted to see him. When he came out of the bathroom, wearing only a pair of black, silk pajama bottoms, he gazed in my direction with a look of concern. "Rose? What's the matter?"

"I..." I tried to answer him, but my words caught in my throat as a lump formed and a fresh set of tears began flowing down my cheeks.

"Come here," he said soothingly with his arms outstretched towards me.

Without much coaxing, I ran to him and wrapped my arms around his neck and my legs around his waist. As he encircled one arm around my waist and the other began rubbing calming circles on my back, I buried my face in his shoulder and let the tears spill out thick and fast.

"I needed you to save me," I managed to say through the crying and shaking, "but I couldn't...you wouldn't..." I trailed off and gave way to tears.

"I'm here now, i ntyatyambo ekhethekileyo," he reassured me.

I ntyatyambo ekhethekileyo means "my special flower". T'Challa started calling me that when I was fourteen as a term of endearment. I thought it was cheesy at first, considering that my name Wavuka means rose is Xhosa (hence, the origin of my nickname), but it eventually grew on me. He only calls me that during moments like this when he's trying to make me feel better.

Twenty minutes later, I was sitting at the foot of T'Challa's bed, wiping my eyes and watching as he took blankets out of the linen closet and set them on the faux fur rug in front of his fireplace, arranging them in a way to look like a makeshift bed. He was able to calm me down a bit, but tears were still streaming down my face.

Once he made sure the pallet was nice and ready, he looked in my direction and held a hand out towards me. I walked over to him, and he helped me to lay down before tucking me under the blankets and wrapping his arms around me. I rested my head on his chest while his fingers traced the scalp line between my cornrowed pigtails. The soothing motion, coupled with the sound of his heartbeat, lulled me back into a peaceful slumber.

After a few hours of sleep, I stirred awake before cracking and massaging my stiff neck, a result of sleeping on the floor. Carpet sleepovers in front of the fireplace were adorable when we were teenagers, but now, it isn't too kind to my thirty-two-year-old body. It doesn't bother him much, but, unlike me, he has a heart-shaped herb that keeps his bones intact.

Once I started moving around, I noticed that my pigtails were gone and I was left with a coily afro. I sent a glare to T'Challa's sleeping form, knowing that he was the reason for it. He has a love for running his fingers through my curls and would sometimes go as far as to take down my hairstyles to do so.

An hour and a few minutes passed before he stirred awake. His arm reached out for the spot I had vacated, and he shot up with his back towards me.

"Good morning T'Challa," I said to ease his mind while closing the diary from this morning's entry.

"Good morning, Rose," he replied with a yawn as I retook the spot next to him and handed him a small plate containing a biscuit I got from the kitchen, which he gratefully took. "Did you sleep well?"

I nodded. "I did. Thanks to you."

"It was nothing." His brows furrowed in a questioning manner as he began looking around the room. "Where's Leo?"

"Leo went off to play in the jungle somewhere." I rolled my eyes, but smiled at the thought of my big fur baby.

We fell into a comfortable silence as he took the biscuit and spread some jam on it.

"I can't believe that you took down my braids," I broke the silence. "It already takes forever to do them in the first place. Not to mention the strain on my muscles from catching those hard to reach patches of hair."

T'Challa chuckled. "If you want, I can rebraid your hair for you."

I shook my head. "Don't you have a council meeting this morning?"

He rolled his eyes. "Don't remind me. Besides, I have plenty of time. It shouldn't take me too long." He set his plate to the side and rubbed his hands together to rid them of any crumbs. "Come on."

I rolled my eyes, knowing I couldn't convince him otherwise. "Fine."

I moved into the gap between his legs, and let him get started.

As odd as it may sound for the King of Wakanda to braid my hair, this wouldn't be the first time he has done so. T'Challa used to style mine, Shuri's, and even Nakia's hair when we were children and into our teens. I was always a little jealous because his braids would out better than mine.

"Ow!" I winced when he roughly, but unintentionally, tugged a small clump of my hair.

"Sorry."

I resisted the urge to elbow him, and instead said, "It's okay."

One thing that would cause a problem with T'Challa or anyone else braiding or styling my hair is my tender-headedness. I remember one time when I was nine, an elderly servant—who has since passed on—braided my hair into cornrows, and I cried through the entire process. The joys of having coily hair.

"Done," he announced after a while.

I stood up and walked into his bathroom so I could look at the mirror. I raised my hand to trace the single cornrow braid and smiled at how beautiful it looked. "It's perfect," I called out to him before making my way back to the pallet.

"I'm glad you like it." He reached a hand out towards me and helped me to get readjusted in the space between his legs. He wrapped his arms around me and pulled me into a warm embrace.

I closed my eyes contentedly and rested my head on his chest so I could hear the soothing sound of his heartbeat.

"Intyatyambo?" He addressed me a few minutes later, breaking the comfortable silence between us.

I opened my eyes, but kept my head rested on the spot on his chest. "Hmm?"

"Would it be alright if I ask you about your nightmare? You tried to tell me last night, but you couldn't get the words out."

I let silence pass again before sighing. "I don't remember much. I only remember darkness and feeling like I couldn't breathe. I tried calling for you to save me, but I couldn't speak. I even tried screaming, hoping you would hear me, but nothing would come out. No screams, no words. Just silence."

I didn't realize I was crying until T'Challa brushed his thumbs against my wet cheeks.

"I am so sorry, i ntyatyambo ekhethekileyo," he cooed and pulled me closer to where my head was resting on his shoulder. From my position, I could see that he was fighting back tears of his own. "But you know I'm always here for you, no matter what."

"I know," I answered him with a nod. "And I'm very grateful for it."

A comfortable silence passed between us again while he held me in his lap and gently rocked me. Unfortunately, the moment was ruined by my 9:30 alarm from my Kimoyo Beads.

'Perfect,' I thought sarcastically as I willed myself off T'Challa's lap, who gave me a questioning look.

"It's time to take my medication and get the day started," I explained.

He nodded and stood up to hug me. "If you need anything-"

"I know," I interrupted him, but smiled at him nonetheless. "Thank you."

I let him hold me for a couple of more minutes before I turned on my heels and walked out of his chambers.

Translations

i ntyatyambo ekhethekileyo – my special flower

intyatyambo – flower