The trio sat in silence. Having known each other for so long, words were meaningless at this point. No need to pass the time with casual chat or witty jokes, they would leave that to the Dora. Besides, T'Challa needed strength to prepare for the ceremony. Nakia and Ororo glanced at each other and smiled.
Okoye piped up from the front. Her voice heralded a message they were eager to hear, carried with a soothing and warm echo. "Sister Nakia, Princess Ororo, My Prince. We are home."
T'Challa spoke. "This never gets old."
Ororo smirked at him from the side. "You have yet to feel what's it like when you fly through it, my dear. But then again, you can't really fly so I don't expect you to know the feeling."
"Monroe!" Nakia gasped. She slapped her thigh playfully, her eyes lined with jocund amusement.
"How dare you assault the future Queen of Wakanda. I call treason."
The four of them laughed as the fighter slid through the barrier. They heard the familiar sound, a triple whoosh and felt their skin buzzing lightly. The forest faded away to reveal a shimmering kingdom, tall buildings beside a serene lake, sunlight glinting off the highest tower and casting the land in golden auras. Blue inscriptions lined the city, the neon text bespoke of this nation's heritage. Around the city, tiny cars, all of them maglev, dotted the streets, with green and yellow, purple and orange hues...a canvas of Africa. All concealed within the greenery of the projection that was the barrier.
T'Challa was right, this never got old.
Ororo stared at the window, watching the small houses loom closer and closer. Below, she spotted several children waving at the fighter, holding their hands high and thrashing them about. Okoye adroitly hovered the fighter towards them, skimming over their heads, a few meters away. Ororo leaned against the glass and waved back, flashing a smile. One of the boys laughed and keenly tapped his friend on the shoulder, mouthing in his native tongue that it was the King and his wife.
Both of them crossed their arms in front and performed the Wakandan salute. Ororo replied with a salute of her own. The boys' cheeks flushed and ran back to the crowd that had gathered behind them, seeking shelter behind their mother's skirts. The fighter hovered over the area for a while before Okoye gestured that they should go. Monroe nodded and gave a final wave to the boys.
"You seem good with children," Nakia remarked.
"I did do some teaching back when I was with the Professor," Ororo remarked. "Had the chance to handle a class of ten 5-year olds once. With all of them still trying to control their powers, the classroom was either on fire or someone was bleeding. It took both me and Jean to settle them down. And even with her telepathic powers, they only went to bed after an hour or so. Ah, I miss seeing those few kids."
"I think you'd make a good mother," Nakia remarked.
Ororo nodded. Yes, she held the same sentiments, albeit less confident than Nakia seemed. She thought to the time when Mama Ramonda had first made mention of having grandchildren. Baba T'Chaka had chided her that it was up to them and that it was their privacy and right, earning nervous waves of laughter from both T'Challa and her. That was three years ago. They still hadn't produced any grandchildren for Mama Ramonda. And Baba T'Chaka had passed away without seeing his.
T'Challa looked at her, shooting glances of sympathy.
Between the two of them, a silent conversation took place. One that was regarding the fact that the two of them had been married for five years and how Ororo had yet to show any signs of producing an heir. It was pressurising to uphold a public image and even more so, now that T'Challa would be crowned King, she was sure that the media would not be holding back on her any time soon.
Nakia knew better than to ask about this. Her earlier comment was simply a statement, nothing more. As for Okoye, she felt that T'Challa and Ororo would breach the topic whenever they were ready. Monroe recalled having talked to T'Challa about this. Both came to the conclusion that they would wait until he was elected King and until he had settled in fully to his new role as the country's monarch. Even then, would they both be ready for this new responsibility? She felt like she couldn't afford to have to handle being both Queen and mother at the same time. How Mama Ramonda did it was such a mystery for her, raising not one, but two successful Wakandans; both of whom had contributed greatly to their nation and upheld their family's legacy. T'Chaka was sure to be proud of his son and daughter.
Honestly, she was glad they had chosen to wait.
Waiting meant they had time left for each other and it was during these five years that she truly got to understand her partner and lover intimately. She had seen him at his worst. He had seen her at her worst. But they had both seen each other's best as well. Journeying alongside him and joining him was the best decision she had ever made, surpassing the decision to join the X-Men. She felt a small bump as the plane dipped and lowered in altitude. It was enough to jolt her out of her thoughts.
Beyond the pilot seat where Okoye was, Monroe spied two neat lines of red-armoured women, all with their heads cleanly shaven. They each had their backs straight, spears gripped tightly in their right arms. Monroe was sure they all could pass for statues. But beyond the two rows of Milaje warriors, she saw three figures. Ayo, the Dora's second in command, clad in red as was the practice for Doras. Beside her, a lady in a regal outfit stood. The white tapestry of linen swirled around her body and fanned out behind her in a stunning backpiece. Mama Ramonda sure did not look her age. And next to Mama Ramonda was Shuri. Or Ri-ri, as she would sometimes jokingly call her.
Ri-ri, as always, was wearing some interesting garments that Ororo would not begin to even try to wear. Her Euro-afro wardrobe was always a concern for Mama Ramonda, worried that her youngest may fall away to the ideals of the Western world. Not that they were all bad, but in the recluse hermit that was Wakanda, borrowing ideas from the outside world seemed...odd at best. At worst? It seemed offensive. Besides, Wakandan garb was definitely better in quality and style than whatever the Americans could wear or don on. Even she, an immigrant from the land of the free, would stick to wearing her traditional African capes for now.
The fighter landed in the area and the quartet waited for the doors to open. Okoye unstrapped herself from the seat and moved to lead the trio to the runway. She picked up her spear and walked down the steps. Nakia followed suit. T'Challa walked towards Ororo and held out his arm. Monroe was caught off-guard by this and lifted her eyebrows. T'Challa smiled at her and gently took her left hand. He squeezed it tightly and placed it in the hook of his arm, giving her a peck on the forehead. She looked down in embarrassment and leaned in gently.
He definitely had stepped up his game.
They walked out towards the rest of the family, both their faces lighting up at the small exchange that had occurred in private. The Dora saluted them as they passed and the royal couple nodded as they passed. They strolled towards the group as both Okoye and Nakia looked at them. Mama Ramonda had a smile on her face whilst Shuri was silently smirking. From the way she was twirling around with her hands behind her back, Ororo guessed that she was in the clear. At least, even if she was her next target, it would be her husband that would take the brunt of her attack.
T'Challa knew this too, he breathed in deeply as he approached. He felt Storm rest her head on his shoulder lightly. Behind him, a soft wind was picking up. He was about to use it to forecast his wife's thoughts, but after Monroe gripped his shoulder and closed her eyes whilst shaking her head, he decided against it. She did not like it when the weather changed according to the mood and while she could control it excellently, she preferred not to when she was around familiar environments. That was how she operated; having been wound tight whenever she was under the scrutiny of the public eye, she needed space and time to unwind. She didn't want to have to maintain an image in the family, she needed to be herself.
Not that he had to be someone different around his family either, he knew he could be transparent with Shuri and Mama. But he was born into this image...this reputation to uphold. He had been trained and raised by his father to take hot seats and people staring at him whenever he went. Clearly, this was woven into his personality as well. And so, what he showed in his public appearances were more or less who he was in private.
He glanced at his sister and mother, his dear mother, as he approached. Behind them, the monolith of the Great Wakandan Empire splayed out. The air currents around them curled past each other, carrying warmth and scents that were only native to his home country. The wind whooshed past, a hearty welcome for the nation's future King and Queen. Beyond the tall silver-casted buildings, the skies were clear, with nought but grey clouds hanging lowly in the distant, catching the sun's rays and redirecting them towards the shine of the Vibranium-ladden architecture.
Yes, this never got old.
Nakia was the first to speak. She spread her arms open, palms facing the sky. She dipped slowly and bowed, eyes on the ground below her.
"Queen Mother, Princess. My comfort for your loss."
T'Challa felt a small hitch in his throat. He watched as his sister softly smiled. He caught her gaze before she deftly looked away. Stubbornly, she refused to let him see that her eyes had gotten slightly damper. She blinked twice and gave an almost indiscernible shrug. Rolling her shoulders back slightly, she stiffened, nodding silently at the wardog.
Mama Ramonda lifted her chin up. Her neck tensed and she gritted her teeth. The next few words were spoken with a ferocity T'Challa knew his mother had, and still was surprised, given the recent events that had transpired, that she currently possessed. Eyes shimmering in the rising sun, voice rolling from her chest, she spoke with all the strength of the Dora Milaje.
"Thank you Nakia, it is so good to have you with us."
Okoye spoke next, "Take her to the River Province to prepare her for the ceremony."
"Yes, General."
Nakia nodded and dipped herself in reverence to the Queen and Shuri. And to T'Challa and Monroe as well. She strode next to the general, stealing another glance at the royal family.
"Did he freeze?" Shuri prodded Okoye, tilting her shoulders towards the General.
"Like an antelope in the headlights!" Okoye's eyes flashed, her lips curled in a smile.
"Are you finished?" T'Challa chided, his eyes widened as he felt his cheeks turn red. "If ever I paused in battle, it was because-"
"If?" Okoye rebutted, clicking her tongue twice with a shake of her head. "My Prince, you are such a liar."
Ororo looked at him, shooting glances of sympathy.
Beneath the sober look, he was sure Monroe was secretly debating whether to join in the spray. After all, it would be perfect revenge for when he had snuck out earlier without informing her. Wordlessly, he pleaded with Monroe not to say anything. She scanned his face, tapping the side of her skirt for a minute. He lifted both his eyebrows and shot a glance at his sister, his hands curling inwards as he bit his lip. As Monroe looked at his sister being eyed by both the Prince and the Queen of Wakanda, she looked at T'Challa and inched her head downwards. Shifting her toes, she turned to face Okoye, who by now had led the Dora aside to prepare the vessels he and his family would be travelling in. Mentally, he noted to thank her later.
Shifting his weight, he prepared his counterattack.
"So glad my little sister came to see me off my big day."
Shuri rolled her eyes.
"Tsst, you wish! I'm here for the EMP beads. I've developed an update."
Ororo looked at her husband. T'Challa shook his head slowly, but Monroe ignored that silent request to not encourage her. "Already? Shuri that's-"
"Amazing, I know."
He frowned. Those beads had only been in testing for prototype a few weeks ago. Only yesterday was he allowed to even bring them to his mission. For Shuri to have worked out updates meant she had been working almost all-night. Unless the update was not significant but merely fixing some bugs. Which was unlikely, given how insistent she was in getting those beads from him. Staying up all night to finish work was a norm within the royal family and sleep was all but foreign to them at times. Yet, T'Challa suspected that there was a hidden reason for Shuri's desire to keep herself busy. Mama would have known and she would have stopped her. But Mama also would have needed time for her to get over her grief.
Shuri opened her palm and T'Challa placed the beads in her hand with reluctance. He did not appreciate how his sister was bustling around her lab at Baast knows when. Still, it was near improbable for him to persuade her otherwise. She was capable of out-smarting him for sure, that was why she was head of their technology and science department. It had always been the case, bright Shuri and the brave T'Challa, as they had called themselves when they were younger. He knew this was a battle he would lose, among many others he had already lost. He settled for a small remark.
"It worked perfectly."
"How many times do I have to tell you, just because something works, doesn't mean it cannot be improved!" She huffed.
Monroe chuckled softly beside him. He gave her arm a squeeze and pressed on, "I can't wait to see what kind of update you make to your ceremonial outfit!"
Shuri then proceeded to make a rude gesture behind Mama's back, one which T'Challa never thought she would dare to make in the public eye.
Shuri definitely had stepped up her game.
T'Challa expressed shock, intentionally triggering his mother to chastise Shuri quickly.
"Sorry, Mama!"
T'Challa and Monroe chuckled. Both faced their Mother as she went forward and gave her daughter-in-law a quick hug. Ororo whispered softly, "Ndiyakuthanda."
She smiled and patted her shoulder lightly. Turning to him, Mama Ramonda held his hands firmly. T'Challa smiled, remembering a distant memory from years ago. When he was a boy, and she was still Mama, and Baba was still around. Regardless, he still had someone whom he looked up to, someone who had walked with him ever since he was a baby, to hold.
"How are you feeling today, Mama?" He murmured.
"Proud. Baba and I would talk about this day all the time. He is with us...and it is your time to be king."
She released her grip and gave his shoulder a squeeze. Ororo took his hand and rubbed his knuckles. He took a deep breath.