Yes, I know. I said I'd have two chapters about before New Years. I'd like to see you guys handle December-Christmas and my mum's birthday are only a week apart, and I had two funerals this month. Plus, it gets stinking hot down here! (Though I think some people may wish to trade places with me).
But there is good news! I've always had trouble trying to find a 'groove' to write my stories to: a sort of work environment. And I found it! A pot of tea and the Phantom and the Opera soundtrack (of course, now I have a muse saying 'write an Eric X OC story! Crap.) Anyways, I now present this chapter in all its glory. SO enjoy...while I track down the Phantom and suffer unimaginable horrors. Joy (!)
Masters of Evil
One would think that, after being transformed into a horrific creature by a mad scientist, and rescued by a younger sibling, Anthony Stark would be more willing to pardon his sister for previous actions committed prior to finding out.
Alas, there was no such forgiveness for my beloved Rose.
It started after the Leader's forces were defeated and everyone was recovering from the gamma radiation. Rose had begun lecturing her friend—the archer Hawkeye—about his decision to hide secrets from her, especially when it concerned his own safety. He had borne his punishment, afterwards declaring she still loved him. I tried to ignore the sheer heat flash across my body as my hands fisted themselves in jealousy, reminding myself that their relationship was that of siblings, much like Rose to her own brother.
Then, an innocent question from the Hulk brought forth Iron Man's fury onto poor Rose's head.
"So who's the guy been sneaking into your room at night?" He had asked loudly, looking straight at me as he did so.
"Wait...what?" Iron Man asked, his head snapping from both Rose and I as his confusion began to be replaced by anger. It did not help that Rose had paled like the moon, and her words came out a garbled mess of sounds.
"Oh, yeah. That." Agent Quatermaine intervened. Had I have known what he was going to say next, I would have done everything in my power to stop him. "A night after Briar was kidnapped, this guy started showing up at her window during the night." Quatermaine explained to the furious Iron Man, "We were going to bring it up with you, but Fury ordered us not to breathe a word until something was said first." Then the agent sent Rose a scalding look, one that had her shrinking away in increasing fear, and I could barely hold back the urge to strangle the older man for causing her such distress.
"However, that stunt you pulled: going to Central Park at night?" He questioned rhetorically, and Iron Man's anger began to send shivers down the spines of everyone listening to the conversation. It did not help poor Rose, who was now trapped between embarrassment and sheer hysteria.
"One of my off duty agents saw a bunch of street punks run out of the park, not that long after those two walked out, arm in arm." Quatermaine elaborated.
"Ok, now hang on!" Wasp suddenly objected, standing up and stalking over to the agent in attempt to defend the younger Avenger. "And just what is wrong with that?!" She demanded, "he was just escorting her home, making sure that none of those creeps came after her!"
"That's not the point." Quatermaine retorted, "The fact that she was even in the park, at that time of night?"
"Well if you were so worried about her, why didn't that agent step in?" Wasp asked. He was beginning to give her an answer, but Iron Man decided he had heard enough and flew back to New York in his armor, leaving everyone behind in stunned silence. All was quiet, save for Rose who gave out a small sound of pure fear.
There was little doubt that my little Rose would be in severe distress when Iron Man spoke to her later.
Hawkeye was the first to move, exchanging quiet yet harsh words with his former superior as Wasp wrapped her arms around Rose's shoulders and escorted her back to us. The poor thing was so pale, and shaking so terribly, her eyes filled with unshed tears. My heart tore at itself as I watched Wasp and Voltaire fawn over their charge, desperately wishing that Rose would let me take her into my arms, to shield her from the pain; to make her feel safe and loved, as he brother should be doing and not releasing his anger onto her shoulders.
Thinking about his reaction to my meeting Rose at night, and her encounter with those thugs, and how his anger affected Rose; I wish sorely tempted to make him suffer dearly for hurting his own sister.
Barton came back to us, 'suggesting' that we leave. Seeing the frustration on his face about Rose's treatment made me feel relieved that I was not alone at the injustice brought onto her. One of the agents had brought the Quinjet to us when the crisis had passed, and cleared of any radiation. While that erased one worry from our minds, it did nothing to ease Rose's fears.
The flight back to the Mansion was quiet, none of us knowing the words to comfort and soothe her. A question burned in my mind—one that my heart demanded to ask—but a little voice warned that I should wait: perhaps my speaking to her would only cause more upset. After all; her trouble with her brother is more my fault than hers.
As such, she sat in her chair without saying a word to anyone. Voltaire sat by her side, resting his large head on her lap and offering his silent comfort and support. At long last, the Quinjet finally landed in the hanger bay of the Avengers Mansion, and when the engines ceased, I finally turned to Rose as the others began to exit. When it was only myself, Rose and Voltaire, I removed what was left of my hood, and asked the question that I yearned to seek an answer to.
"Would you change anything?" I asked. When she lifted her gaze to mine, it was all I could do not to curse Iron Man for the tears in her eyes. "If you could go back, and change anything at all, would you?" I elaborated.
"You mean...not go in Central Park that night?" She questioned in a voiced that crackled in emotion. When I nodded, she paused for a while to gather her answer. She had not spoken yet, and I felt my heart begin to freeze: perhaps she would have changed that, if only to spare herself from her brother's wrath. Though my mind knew this to be a reasonable answer, my heart roared that such an act would destroy me.
But if it would help appease her brother...I would do what needed to be done, even if I crushed my own heart to keep her safe and happy.
"No." Her answer surprised me from my thoughts. She offered a weak smile as I looked upon her in shock. "Meeting you that night...it made me feel more confident about myself, knowing that there was someone out there that didn't see me as weak and shy."
"And I never shall." I assured firmly, and her smile widened that little bit more. I stood up, holding my hands to help her. Her hands slid into my, letting me pull her to her feet. Before we left the safety of the jet, I pulled Rose into a warm embrace, her arms sliding around my neck as she returned the gesture. Pulling away, I led her out of the jet, handing her to the floor as a gentleman should; an act that pleased her even in the oncoming storm of her brother's fury.
Hawkeye and Captain America were waiting for us in the Assembly Hall, grimness set in their eyes foretelling Rose of her fate.
"Tony wants a word with you, in the armoury." The captain informed her. My brave little Rose knew what that implicated, and took a deep breath and gaining a confidence in her eyes that reminded me of how far she had come since I had first seen her, then walked by herself to her brother's location.
"Why don't you head home, Panther?" Hawkeye offered, "Knowing Starky, she'll have that knuckle-head seeing her side before breakfast." Perhaps, but something warned me to stay in case Rose needed me. But then again, the arched has known Rose longer than I, so maybe he was right.
"Will you inform me in all goes well, or otherwise?" I asked them both.
"Of course." The captain answered, and so I left—praying that Rose would find the strength to withstand her brother's wrath.
Had I known what was being said in their conversation, I would not have left her alone.
######
I returned to Avengers Mansion the next morning, intent on spending the day with Rose. I could not be sure what drove me to do such a thing; perhaps that Rose does not see me as the king that I am, but as her close friend; or maybe that delightful humour she has that makes everything feel at peace. Or even, perhaps, when she looks at me with those gentle brown eyes of hers, I see a universe of hidden emotion within.
Or the most likeliest theory, I was purely in love with her.
Love. It was such a wonderful feeling, and so hard to believe that I could be in love with Rose, after meeting her just over a month ago, but I could not ignore how I became whenever I was around her; the warmth that surrounded my heart as her hand holds mine; the comfort I felt in her words whenever she spoke; the sweet and pure affection whenever she looks at me!
Oh, there had been a time in my youth when I thought I loved another. But when I think back, I now realize that what I had felt then was nothing but a pale reflection of the vibrant and fiery emotion I now feel for Rose.
All of which has led me to the decision to court her, or at the least 'hang out' with her, until she was sure that she loved me in return.
However, when I entered the Mansion, I was hit by an invisible feeling of great sadness and anger. Oh, no...please, no!
"JARVIS, where is Rose?" I demanded urgently, turning to the artificial intelligence. If something has happened to my Rose, I shall never forgive myself. And if I find that Iron Man has done something to her, I will swear vengeance on his head!
"Good morning, King T'Challa." It greeted me, "Miss Stark is currently in her private lab below. However I must inform you that she wishes to be alone." Damn! Iron Man's anger must have been greater than I thought, and poor Rose was left alone to bear it. As much as she wished to be alone, I could not leave her in such a state, or in good conscious.
"Will you please tell her I wish to speak to her?" I asked, immediately heading towards the elevator. "If she refuses, I shall simply wait outside her door till she answers, and as long as I have to!"
"Very well, sire." He responded and became silent just as the elevator doors slid shut behind me and I was lowered into the sublevels. No matter what, I was determined to make Rose smile again, and keep her happy.
The sublevels were bear of anyone else's presence, possibly due to what transpired last night. Because neither Hawkeye or Captain America were down here, attempting to coax Rose out of her hiding hole, it infuriated me to think they did not care. But the more rational side of my mind reminded me that even if they were down here, Rose would not be in the mood for entertaining their efforts.
That same part asked if attempting to speak with her was wise, but it was quickly dismissed: I was going to make her smile, even if it beggared me.
Arriving at the secluded small lab, hidden near the medical ones, it was not all that surprising that the door was still closed. What was a surprise was the conversation I could somewhat hear from within.
"Is this really necessary, Alenka?" I heard Rose question, "I'm not really up to going out."
"Which is precisely why this is necessary." Another female (presumably Alenka) answered, "It's such a beautiful day out there, and I won't have you spending it inside a lab, playing video games. Even if Batman is a total hunk."
"If you agree that Batman in a hunk, then why can't I play with him upstairs?" Rose whined. I almost bit my lip to stop myself from laughing, and it did not help when Alenka began to roar in hysterical laughter. Her laughter was so loud, I could barely make out Rose groaning in embarrassment.
"I so did not say that right." She whined.
"No, you didn't. But luckily I'm the sort of friend who knows what you're saying even when you don't. Now no talky!" It was silent for a few moments as Alenka finished her task, occasionally asking Rose to do some sort of actions.
"Ta-da! Finished!" She finally sang in triumph, "go have a look, and no complaining! This is pretty, and it takes forever to get you into a dress!"
"Probably due to me hating them." Rose retorted and groaned heavily, "I can't believe I let you talk me into this. Why did I do this again?"
"Because a happy Alenka is a merciful Alenka, and a merciful Alenka means a properly chastised Tony. And a properly chastised Tony means a happy Rose, which brings us full circle to me being happy." Alenka explained (at great length) before dissolving into a fit of giggles. "Besides, I wanna see his eyes pop out of his head when he sees you!"
"Who? Tony?"
"No. I'm talking about that piece of absolutely drool-worthy statuesque African chocolate- with a side of wild cat manliness- that's currently waiting patiently at the door for you." The worse barely had the time to register in my mind before the door slide open and Rose almost collided into me with a surprised squeak. My own surprise melted at the vision in front of me.
Rose stood before me, clad in a dress of a deep burgundy colour. The hem of her dress reached just above her silken knees, the sweetheart neckline my eyes to her chest in an enticing manner, even with the layer of lace over the top of her dress, creating sleeves to her elbows. Her hair—usually void of any decoration—was now held back by a strip of black ribbon, matching the belt around her waist and the ballet flats on her feet. What truly captivated me was her face; her skin lightly touched with a soft blush, her eyes rimmed with smoky coloured eye-shadow, and her lips...good heavens.
Her lips were painted a bright red, tempting me with their lushness to seize Rose and kiss her till the world around us turned to nothing.
"T'Challa! Um, h-hi!" Rose's greeting brought me to my senses, and I gave her a warm smile.
"You look beautiful." I complimented in a soft voice, and delighted in the deepened blush on her cheeks as she averted her eyes, one of her hands brushing at a loose lock of hair.
"Smoothy. He's definitely a smoothy." Alenka mock-whispered, causing Rose to jump and sputter in shock, before the owner of the voice appeared from behind my love and held her hand to me. "Alenka Jones." As I reached forward and shook her hand, I let my eyes roam over her form.
Tall, not a few inches taller than Rose, with long brown hair and watery blue eyes that held mirth and wisdom. Her body resembled that of a Greek goddess, the cut of her shirt revealing a tempting cleavage, her jeans hugged close to her hips. In a way, she was a very beautiful woman, but it was an ethereal one that held no sway over me. Rose, however...
"So, this is the Wakandan monarch I've been hearing about." Alenka spoke as we let our hands drop, "Not a bad looker, sweetheart." A high pitched squeak from Rose told her friend just how appreciative she thought Alenka's openness was, something the taller female found quite amusing.
"Well, I'd love to stay and chat, but I must be off." She declaring, "Much to do; places to go, people to see, a brother to lecture, the whole shebang. So, ta-ta!" And with that, she disappeared in the blink of an eye.
"She is...interesting." I remarked, though something told me that what I just said was an understatement.
"You could say that." Rose agreed, folding her hands together as she looked elsewhere. The act only made her even more appealing and lovely, something I could not leave unrewarded.
"You do look beautiful, Rose." I told her, resting my hands on her shoulders. "The dress is perfect for you." I must have said the right thing, for Rose lifted her gaze and smiled coyly at me, even though her eyes held a trace of disbelief, a display that only made me eager to prove that I was telling her the truth, and that she was as I claimed her to be.
"Thank you" She replied, lowering her gaze once again, "So, um...wh-what brings your here?"
"You." I almost winced as the word slipped out, but the look of genuine surprise in her eyes was worth the slip up. "I would like to see New York as you see it; I have been so busy of late that I have not had the chance to visit the 'sights', as the term is." It was not my best excuse but my mind was incapable of anything better. At least I had a reason to spend time with her.
"And, perhaps, maybe we could see a ballet tonight? I believe you said you were fond of the Swan Lake production?" At the mention of seeing a ballet, or possibly spending a day with someone other than herself, Rose finally agreed to show me New York.
But maybe a few surprises were in order.
After escorting Rose upstairs, I quickly made a few calls as she attended to Voltaire before leaving him in the care of a worker and followed me outside. When we reached the sidewalk, I felt great satisfaction when she softly gasped at the mode of transportation we would be taking.
"We're taking a limo?" She questioned to herself before turning to me with a soft expression, "You remembered." In one of our earlier conversations—prior to Rose discovering my true identity—she had expressed a desire to ride inside such a car, but due to her brother preferring his sports cars, she never had the chance to fulfil her dream. Until now.
Handing Rose into the vehicle first, I followed behind her, shutting to door as I took my seat. As the car slowly pulled from the sidewalk, I glanced at my love from the corner of my eyes, smiling as she sat in silence, her knees bouncing in slight nervousness. Carefully, I slid my hand around her waist and pulled her closer against my side. For a moment she tense but soon she relaxed further into my side, her head resting against my shoulder as she breathed out a soft sigh on contentment, my heart echoing the same sentiment.
:This is perfect.: It told me, :This is where she belongs.: And I couldn't agree more.
######
ROSE'S POV
:This is perfect.: My inner voice sighed dreamily as my head rested against the shoulder of the incredibly handsome and extraordinarily gentlemanly Panther king. It was a bold move on his part, but being near T'Challa—or even better, in his arms—just made my problems seem to disappear.
And after last night, I had the lion's share.
Due to an innocent question on the Hulk's part, Tony found out that T'Challa and I had been talking to each other long before he was formally introduced to the Avengers for help. If that titbit of information wasn't going to get me into trouble, then Quatermaine telling him about my attack in Central Park definitely did. So after we returned to the Mansion, I made the stupid mistake of trying to talk sense into Tony. What I got instead was an argument that turned nasty. Not in the physical sense, at least.
Let's just say that Tony more or less "implied" just what he really thought of his baby sister, which in turn made me say something that both shocked and sicked him.
Ok, fine: in Tony's defense, I could see where he was coming from. His baby sister was known through most bad guys circles as a genius tech whiz (two of those circles being HYDRA and AIM), the she ends up getting kidnapped, held against her will, injured and to top all that, Tony finds out that his baby sister is having secret rendezvous with a male superhero who later turns out to be the monarch of an African nation.
Alright, I'll give him that. But I do know how to defend myself! That fact he clearly seemed to have forgotten, and subtly implied that I'm nothing more than a helpless, gutless girl. Hello?! I just saved him—and every other person in Vegas—from gamma radiation!
Then, of course, came the part about me and T'Challa, but seriously! If a monarch wanted to hurt me in some way, wouldn't he have done so long before now? In any case, Wakanda has its own cache of hi-tech gadgetry and weaponry and the like than anything I've seen, not to mention all their scientists! Why would someone like T'Challa need my brain power when he has all that at his disposal? But—as always—Tony ignores the obvious and jumps right to conclusions that T'Challa was just using me and would break my heart, like with what happened with the other guy. That only brought up the most unpleasant memory I had in the darkest corners of my mind.
In short? I snapped something vicious; I told him that T'Challa was nothing like the other guy, and that T'Challa didn't treat me like a whore who threw herself at the first man she sees, unlike the other guy and clearly Tony. When Tony heard his name added to that list, he reeled back in surprise, his face changing from anger to something between shock and sickened horror. I didn't give him the chance to say anything more, turning and running for my private lab, locking the door behind me and cried.
Somewhere between crying, screaming in anger and throwing tools around in a fit of rage, I managed a few hours of sleep, but not a whole lot. I do recall getting woken up by Alenka, getting told to shower, then being fed and primped, just in time for her to casually announce that T'Challa was waiting outside my private lab. When I found out she was telling the truth (by opening the door and nearly running into him), I gave a squeak surprise even as I tried not to melt at his image.
When dressed as the Black Panther, T'Challa gives off a mysterious aura that was both alluring and incredibly seductive, plus the costume cling to his body perfectly, highlighting those heavenly muscles of his. And despite how strong he was—capable of taking down armed assailants with those claws of his—never once did he use that strength against me in anyway, not even raising his voice.
But dressed in civilian clothes, he gave off an entirely different aura that nearly had me swooning. Instead of his black uniform, he had dress in a white button down shirt that emphasized his broad chest and narrow waist, the sleeves rolled up to reveal the forearms that have held me countless times; over that he wore a black waistcoat with shining black buttons, black pants and black leather shoes. Instead of that mysterious air, he now gave off a sophisticated aura, yet it was also one of comfort, something I couldn't help but feel.
And then came the surprise of T'Challa inviting me out to play as his tour guide, and to see a ballet later that evening, which I agreed to. Then there was the transport we were taking: a limo. A freaking limo! I had mentioned it once that I've always wanted to be driven in one, and had thought T'Challa had forgotten about that. But no; here I was, in the back on a sleek black limo, cuddling against a king-friend-major crush! Could this get any better?!
######
It did. After a day of showing T'Challa the Empire State Building, The Statue of Liberty and various other hot spots, I was taken to a restaurant, fed incredible food and drink before being whisked away to the theatre. Once there, I had a tiny panic attack after realizing that what I was wearing didn't look classy enough for the scenery. But one look into the heated smouldering golden eyes of the Panther king and my nerves settled greatly; honestly, the way he looked at me made me feel like I was wearing yards of the finest silk and draped in jewellery (though I really hope that he doesn't plan on actually doing that!)
The feeling sort of came back when we were shown to one of the box seats, and we were the only ones inside. But that soon disappeared when the ballet began, and all T'Challa did was hold my hand in his, rubbing his thumb against the back on my fingers (to the disappointment of my overeager mind). It wasn't a surprise that during towards the finale of the ballet, my head wound up against his shoulder again, my body sated with good food, and my mind filled with all the wonders that I'd seen that day.
Sadly, the night had to come to an end, and I won't deny that I didn't feel any panic about going back to the mansion. For all I knew, Tony had found out where I've been and was waiting for me with another lecture.
But my fears were unfounded: as T'Challa walked me inside, his arm around my waist as his other hand tenderly played with a strand of my hair, we were greeted by Voltaire running up to us, whining and butting his head against our legs for a pat. After we had giving him the attention he wanted, Mr. Foxworthy appeared. Oh, dear.
"So, this is the gentleman I've been hearing about?" The old butler asked, giving T'Challa a stern look as he gave him the once over. "You've been giving Mr. Stark quite the headache, young man." His jaw line tightening, T'Challa tried to defend himself before Mr. Foxworthy gave him a sly yet welcoming smile, an act that put me at ease. If anyone knew a good soul when they saw one, it was Mr. Foxworthy, and if he liked the person enough, then he was more than happy to sit with them and talk when he had time to spare.
After the brief introductions were made, my old friend announced that it was time for bed, giving the both of us a significant look, since it was rather late. So, T'Challa bade us good night, pressing a warm kiss to the back of my hand and cheek before leaving. My face turned red while Mr. Foxworthy softly chuckled around a sly smile. I was then escorted to my room, Voltaire happily trotting ahead of us as I replayed all the events that happened that day to my oldest friend and father figure.
Once tucked into bed and left alone in the dark, Voltaire curled into his usual spot on the end of my bed while I had trouble turning my brain off. It kept replaying what happened during the day, particularly the parts where I was pressed against T'Challa for one reason or another. Not that I had a problem with it; it felt fantastic being pressed against his side or his chest, and it was hard to ignore the squeal from my more girlish side. In the end, I was stuck with a permanent blush on my cheeks—something that didn't escaped his notice. He didn't say anything, but that smug and seductive grin on his face did it all for him.
All in all, it was a good day. The argument that it was fantastic could be made, but just to stay safe it was a good day. It did do wonders to keep my mind off of my argument with Tony, and any other troubles I had. But more importantly, spending all day with a gentleman like T'Challa made me forget the troubles I had with a certain man before.
In my moment of near sleepiness, I suddenly promised myself that no matter what I wasn't going to let myself feel anything for the past. All that mattered now was the presant.
:From now on, I'm not gonna look back for anyone.: I firmly told myself, :And I won't let anyone hurt me again.:
Then my phone began to ring with its message alert.
If I had known what that message would start, I never would have opened it.
######
Something was bothering Rose. I could not imagine what that something could be, but clearly it was troubling her something worse than her conversation with her brother. Speaking of which, it could not be Iron Man; he was being kept busy at Stark Industries by his assistant, and if he did somehow manage to find time to himself, he kept his distance from Rose. I imagine that was part of Alenka's 'lecture'.
It was very doubtful that she was upset with our daily outings together. Prideful of me to say such thing, but I know Rose enjoyed our moments together, if her infectious smile was any indication. For the past seven days, whenever I appeared and offer to spend time with her, her face would brighten and that wonderful smile would show. Even if we just spent the time watching a film in her bedroom, or laying in the sunshine behind the Mansion, or curled up together by the fire at night time, reading a book together.
So what could be upsetting her? As it turned out, I was not the only one to notice. And when we discovered the cause of it, it was in a way that changed Rose forever.
######
I happened to be on the roof of the Wakandan Embassy preparing the balm my ancestors used: made of an heart-shaped herb, this concoction enhanced the senses of the Panther kings, though toxic to any outside the royal bloodline. I was gathering the herbs when a servant appeared to inform me that a young woman and a large white beast were waiting to speak with me. My heart almost jumped out of my chest in joy as I sent the servant to send Rose and Voltaire up. True, I had not planned to see them till tonight for a film—as I had things to do this morning—but any chance to spend time with my shy flower, I would take it with both hands.
"How'd you know it was us?" I heard Rose asked even before I turned around. When I did face her, I could help but smile. As much as I adored her in a dress, I truly found her the most alluring when she wore pants and shirts; the clothes she felt most comfortable to be in, she did not need to put in any effort to being beautiful.
"There are not that many large white beasts in the city." I teased her, chuckling as Voltaire whined indignantly. Rose softly at her faithful friend, and I took the moment to pluck a harmless flower from the tree branch above me and threaded it behind her ear. Her laughter stopped as her hand immediately reached up to touch the velvet soft petals, her eyes finding mine in a questioning gaze.
"There are also no other young woman as beautiful as you." I added, and felt a swell of pride when her cheeks turned a dusty shade of red and she averted her eyes to the ground. Voltaire appeared just in my line of sight, glancing between myself and his mistress before giving me a intelligently significant look and shaking his head in an almost human gesture.
:He does appear more intelligent that some people I know of, which is quite disconcerting.: I thought privately before gesturing for Rose to sit on the large rug placed in the shade of the tree. "So what brings such delightful souls to my humble home?" I asked her, settling beside her and pulled the mortar and pedestal closer to start my work of crushing the herbs.
"W-Well, you've been coming to the Mansion so much, I th-thought it's be easier on you if I came here." She spoke, tracing an invisible pattern on the rug as she did. The she shyly glanced at me from beneath her eyelashes, a gesture I found maddeningly alluring despite being an innocent act on her part. "Plus, I've never been in an embassy before."
"Then I am glad to be giving you the chance to do so." I chortled. She gave a coy smile in return before it became quiet. It was far from uncomfortable; occasionally we had small bursts of conversation, but mostly we sat side by side in companionable silence. Soon, between the warm sun and the sweet perfume of the flowers above us, Rose's head began to rest on my shoulder, a small sigh escaping her lips.
"It's really beautiful up here." She murmured softly, "I wouldn't mind seeing the night sky from up here." A thought entered my head, and before I knew it I was opening my mouth to ask if she would like to spend the night here at the embassy—an offer I doubted she would take up so soon—but the timely arrival of Hawkeye prevented me from saying a word, thankfully.
"So this is where you're hiding, Starky." He called, looking about to examine the sights. Whether he really cared about the view or to give Rose ample time to quickly remove her head from my shoulder and sit a little further away from me. While his timing did stop me from being too forward with my offer to Rose, but must he really cause her to do that?
"Clint. What brings you up here?" She asked. A frown then began to form upon her brow. "Tony didn't send you after me, did he?"
"Pfft, please! As if I'd take orders from him." The archer replied, waving he question aside, "Why would I tail a girl who can not only be the most sweet and innocent mind, but also kick my ass till I bled purple jelly?" Rose merely gave him a look of disbelief, which he countered with a large grin. It did not take long before his smile began to falter while Rose easily maintained hers.
"Ah, fine! Alright you win!" He exclaimed, turning away to rub his abused cheeks. Smiling like the kitten that got the dish of cream, Rose turned to me and held her hand up in a 'peace' gesture whilst closing one eye and poking the tip of her tongue out between her teeth: an act that nearly had me doubling over in laughter.
"So, let's try that again, shall we?" Rose inquired innocently as Hawkeye turned to face us again, "What brings you up here?"
"If you must really know, I was trying to find your ears." He answered and began to pout. Rose groaned loudly as her eyes rolled to the sky before sitting in the lotus position, propping her elbows on her knees as her hands cupped her face.
"I'm really going to regret this later, but rant away." She announced. And so, a stream of words began to flow from Hawkeye's mouth, in what I assume Rose called 'ranting'. While he complained about something or the other, Rose merely sat and listened, occasionally making a noise but for the most part just let his words wash over her. Deciding to take my cue from her, I went back to crushing the herbs in the stone mortar.
Then he began complaining about the Avengers.
"Ok, so listen: you guys know that the Avengers are a complete disaster, right?" He asked openly, pacing in front of us, "Iron Man's completely unqualified to lead a team like this—"
"True." Rose commented off handily.
"—Thor is crazy; the Hulk is a bomb waiting to go off—"
"You're not any better, Clint."
"—Ant Man couldn't be less interested in taking down bad guys and Wasp belongs on the party circuit, not in law enforcement." Strange, but I do believe he has left a few people out of his list.
"You forgot Rose and Captain America." I pointed out calmly, prompting a small snicker on Rose's part.
"He wouldn't dare add Cap to that list, even if his life depended on it." She commented before leaning back slightly and breathed out softly, "And let's face it: I have too many problems to list."
"Do not." Clint retorted flatly, and resumed his pacing again till he reached the edge of the roof. "A-and you, you're a king! Sitting in your...your...what is this place, anyway?"
"The Wakandan Embassy." Both Rose and I answered him at the same time.
"An embassy, for crying out loud!" He finished his earlier rant before coming to kneel in front of me. "What do you care about the Avengers? Are you bored?" Then without asking (as is his usual way), Hawkeye dabbed his finger into the balm and sampled it like it was something to eat. I could see Rose raise her hand to her mouth, covering a surprised smile as Hawkeye immediately turned his head and spat the concoction out.
"You eat that?!" He demanded as he stood back in disgust, "What is that?" Doing my best not to let Rose's stifled snickering influence my own rising laughter, I kept a straight face as I answered his question.
"The juices of the heart-shaped herb enhance the senses of the kings of the Panther tribe. And in point of fact, it is applied to the skin, and a lethal poison to those not of the royal line." Whilst I had been talking, Hawkeye had been rubbing his mouth on the back of his sleeve, but upon hearing he may have ingested poison, he immediately ran to the closest stone fountain and began rinsing his mouth. This is where Rose lost control and burst out in bright uncontrollable laughter, rolling over onto her back as her hands gripped her stomach in glee.
"You mook!" She managed to giggle out hysterically, "I c-can't believe you ate tha-ha-hat!"
"Ya could've warned me!" He snarled at her before going back to wash his mouth out while Rose continued to laugh. It was nice to hear her laugh again, in spite of what had been troubling her lately. Hawkeye eventually stopped washing his mouth out and came to sit near us, leaning against Voltaire's side while the giant dog slept in the warm sun.
Rose soon stopped laughing too, but did not move from lying on her back, her hands resting on her stomach and her feet pointing to the base of the tree. "Oh, Clint. You're a riot and a half." She breathed out.
"I'm so glad I amuse you." He grumbled then raised his head to look at her, "That reminds me: Potts got a hold of me before, and asked that I tell you to turn your phone on." Whatever Rose was expecting to hear, this clearly not it. Any trace of humour was gone, and I could swear there was a flicker of sheer terror in her eyes.
"Which begs the question, why are you so desperate to avoid Tony even though he is avoiding you?" Hawkeye asked. From where he was sitting, he could not see how pale Rose had quickly become, or her chest rising and falling a little faster as the look of terror in her eyes began to grow.
"Unless it is not your brother you are trying to avoid." I slowly pointed out, attracting both of their attentions. As Hawkeye struggled to sit up, Rose quickly glanced at me before turning onto her side facing away from me.
"Starky?" Hawkeye questioned, kneeling by her head, "Come on; you know I'll keep buggin' ya till you spill. And I'm pretty sure T'Challa will do the same, so either way we will find out." Well, perhaps not by such methods, but it would be nice to know what is troubling her so that I may deal with it.
She said or did nothing for a few moments, before she sat up with a heavy sigh, and a look of annoyance on her face. Sensing that she either wanted us to stop asking about her private business, or simply was annoyed at herself, I decided to intervene before something happened that any of us will regret later.
"It is not that we doubt your ability to handle a difficult situation." I assured her, "After all, you demonstrated that quite clearly when you protected my village and when you came back to rescue us from the Leader." Setting my work aside, I reached around her waist and gently lifted her into my lap, pressing her back against my chest, an act that surprised her. "I only ask about your troubles because you are my friend. And I believe friends are meant to help each other. Preferably without getting turned into a monster, or having their mind roasted." Privately, I could never repay her enough for all that she has done, and yet she asks for very little—in fact for nothing!—in return. Truly, she is the most amazing woman I had the pleasure of courting.
Rose still did not say a word, but eventually she tilted her head back to look at me with a small and unsure quirked smile. "You really think I can handle things?" She asked softly.
"I cannot think of a scenario where you haven't." I answered truthfully, and continued before she could speak. "And your argument with Iron Man does not count." I told her firmly.
"Agreed." Hawkeye chimed. He had been so quiet, that hearing him talk made Rose jump a little as she faced him. "True, I didn't hear what was said in the argument, but I do know that at some point, Tony's going to have to let you go fly your own way." Giving a loud bark of harsh laughter, Rose rolled her eyes at him.
"A: You're corny as ever." She stated, "B: T'Challa, you're too kind as always. And C: we all know that Tony isn't going to let me go that easy." Her expression softened, and she placed her hand against my arm and squeezed it gently. "But thanks, all the same." She spoke, "I'm glad I've got some people that believe in me."
"Like we'd do otherwise." Hawkeye smirked at her.
"Well, whoever does, they're gonna get a shock." Rose continued, "I decided that I wasn't going to let my past get to me anymore. No more fear, no more letting people push me over. From now on, I'm going to prove to people like my brother that just because I look small and innocent doesn't mean I'm weak." Her declaration filled me with a pride I had never known before, and I find that I was enjoying it greatly. Though she may not realize it, her declaration of being strong was something I had already seen; in her actions of protecting my village; at saving all those who had become gamma monsters; and in her eyes, every time I gaze into them, I could see great strength.
Now, I understand why my heart chose her.
######
ROSE'S POV
You know something? Self motivation is a great thing. Normally, I'd avoid it like the plague because of how painfully shy and introverted I was. But after seeing how concerned T'Challa and Hawkeye were, I did something bold, and promised them that I wasn't going to be weak anymore for anything or anyone.
What brought this up, you ask? Well it's kind of a long story, but the short gist of it is that I turned my phone off to try avoiding calls and texts from a certain somebody in my past. That somebody whose actions—not only shattered my self confidence, and resulted in my becoming a near recluse from society—but also left me in an ICU ward for a month.
But...ever since I've met T'Challa, I've been feeling something inside of me. I'm not really sure what it is, but since I've been feeling 'it', I've been more...outgoing, I guess.
I mean, I wasn't one for going out with a guy I've only known for a month or so, but T'Challa just has this way of putting me at ease, and made our outings more enjoyable. And I definitely never rushed to the aide of someone in danger, even if they were my friends!
But just last week, I went to a foreign nation, risked myself (eardrums, really) to create a protective dome over an entire village to protect them from vibranium sound waves. Then a few hours after that, I ran into The Cube—filled with bad guys and gamma radiation—to help out the team. True, when the second dome hit, I did run, but I also came back and helped them get back to normal.
Like I said; ever since I met T'Challa and got that feeling, I've been doing things I never thought I could or would be doing.
Example? Running home in the rain.
Actually, that was a fluke of the weather, but I'm still running in it! After hanging out with Hawkeye and T'Challa at the Wakandan embassy and told them I wasn't going to be weak anymore, we talked a little bit longer about a possible team up in the training room, and agreed to try tonight. By then I had decided to head and grind out a program to use. T'Challa did offer to take me home, or even have someone drive me there, but it was such a nice afternoon and I wanted to warm up my muscles for tonight, so I declined and went on my merry way with Voltaire in tow.
It had been a pleasant walk, occasionally stopping to let a kid or two so they could pat the really big doggie. Another thing about Voltaire that surprised me was how patient he was with children, even lowering himself so they didn't feel threatened by his sheer size. Then the skies began to turn a dark gray in an instant, and with an almighty clash of thunder and lightning they unleashed a torrential down pour that had everyone running.
:Well, I did need a shower.: I reflected as I let myself and Voltaire into the mansion, and let out a huge sneeze, :Though maybe one that wasn't so cold.: Quickly running to my room, I had a rushed but warm shower and dressed in a pair of training pants, an old shirt and shoes before towel drying Voltaire off. Once he was dried and fed, we headed into the sub-levels so I could start on that program for T'Challa and Clint.
Though I don't remember the sub-levels feeling so...unnatural. Usually, there was some sort of activity going on down here, giving this place a 'living' feel to it. But now there wasn't.
"Voltaire, why don't you see who else is down here?" I asked him. He gave me a flat long look before softly huffing through his nose. Like I'm leaving you alone? He seemed to be asking.
"I'll be fine." I assured. He clearly seemed to think otherwise, but did what I asked and quickly ran off to find someone else. If anyone else was actually down here.
"Ok, no need for that, thank you." I quietly chastised myself as I set off for the control room to start that program. The journey there was bloody eerie though, I'll tell you. My footsteps echoed off the metal walls, and the limited lights did wonders for the shadows to play tricks on my mind. Especially the one behind m—
THWACK!
And down I went, into complete darkness.
######
SPLASH!
With a sudden and wet start I jerk back into consciousness, though I was really regretting it. Thanks to the whack on my head, my brain felt like it was imploding on itself. Aside from my head, my body felt cold and numb. Cracking open my eyes revealed that I was currently on the floor, with a pair of shoes not that far from my face...wait, what?
Trying not to hurt myself anymore that I had, I slowly turned my head upward. Once I saw who those feet belonged to, my pain vanished and was replaced by the sinking coldness of terror. Staring down at me with a barely veiled mask of sick glee, was the one man I had hoped never to see again.
Justin Hammer. My ex-boyfriend.
Even now, my poor brain was trying to sort past from present, while telling me that he hadn't changed all that much. His blond hair was still the same as when he stomped on my chest and broke three ribs, and threw a broken bottle in my face. And his eyes...
His eyes were still the same maniacal shade of blue as he held a blow-torch to my shoulder; the memory of burning flesh, the screams and pleas for him to stop, and his cruel laughter forever imprinted on my mind.
"Finally awake, are you?" He asked in mock concern as knelt down to get a better look at me. "It took you long enough. Then again, you were pretty dense." Amidst all the terror I was feeling, a small part of me was indignant: if he was going to complain about how long it takes someone to regain consciousness, then he shouldn't have knocked them out cold in the first place. And I'm not dense: he blind-sided me, the coward. Plus, since when did I have to play by his schedule? But in spite of that, I wouldn't let myself speak unless I really wanted a repeat of last time.
Seeing how much terror had paralysed me in his presence, he sneered before reaching forward and grabbed my arms in a bruising grip. I tried to fight back, but my body was still groggy from the rude awakening, and when I was standing with my back flushed against his chest, and pinned by his arm around my chest, he pulled out a dagger and held the pointed end to my neck.
"Bring back memories, my dear little Briar?" He cooed sickeningly. It did: unpleasant ones. I went back in my mind about how I first met Justin four months ago that seemed like years; he was an intern at Stark Industries, working on some project. I had just finished at college and Tony somehow wrangled me into working on the same project.
We were paired together to run tests on something, and soon Justin was shamelessly flirting with me. I never once questioned why either a guy suddenly took interest in me, or why my inner voice was constantly telling me to get rid of him; instead I foolishly allowed myself to fall further and further into his trap, and at my weakest point, he revealed his true colours to me, and I was forced to pay for my mistake in the harshest way.
Instead of being genuinely interested in me, Justin just sought to use me to get valuable secrets from Stark Industries to start his own company. I did my best not to reveal anything, an act that just made him more furious till he snapped, and the rest wasn't pretty. My only saving grace was that Alenka was nearby and sensed me in danger, she and Hawkeye found and rescued me before I was killed. Alenka also healed my injuries, so all that remained was the memories.
:I guess having Hawkeye and Alenka beat him to a pulp didn't sit well.: I mentally griped, wincing as the tip came a little too close to my neck, but Justin ignored me in favour for dragging me to some destination.
:Please, Alenka. Please, Hawkeye. I—HAWKEYE! T'CHALLA!: Crap, I forgot all about them! They should've been here by now, so why haven't they rescued me yet? Unless...I'm not in Avengers Mansion anymore. I was ready to panic when glancing at my surroundings proved that I was indeed still in the sub-levels, and heading to the Assembly Hall.
:So where are they?: I asked myself and tried to fight back the fresh wave of fear in my chest. The feeling of a big cold block being dropped into my stomach hit me when a dark thought entered my mind. What if they weren't coming at all? What if they found something else better to do and forgot all about me?
:Ok, stop right there!: I snapped at myself, :T'Challa is not like that. Remember the other morning, when he couldn't make that breakfast date? The man phoned and wouldn't stop apologizing, and bombed the place with flowers delivered to me! Hell, he would've filled the whole mansion with flowers if I hadn't told him to stop!: Therefore, there was no way of T'Challa ignoring a moment to hang out with me. Admittedly though, even if I knew he would never leave me hanging without a good reason, that didn't answer my question about where he was.
"In here." Justin finally spoke, hauling me through the Assembly Hall doorway. The force of getting dragged and the blade digging into my neck made me cry out in pain as my eyes squeezed themselves shut. I heard several gasps on shock in response.
"Rose?!" My eyes flew open and saw the one thing I wanted to see the most.
"Panther! He-Ah!"The knife blade moved to the front of my throat, forcing me to tilt my head back. I guess Justin wasn't expecting this, and was not taking it well. And that could only mean that bad things were going to happen.
######
:This was not part of the plan!: My heart roared, its fury resonating throughout my entire frame. Hawkeye and I- with Ant Man- had returned from the embassy, only to find our friends under attack by Baron Zemo and other villains. Neither of us thought that Rose would be caught in the attack; it had been likely that she was sheltered in her lab with Voltaire, safe from harm. So we made our move to Allow Ant Man into his lab, and now stood with our fellow Avengers, read to do battle.
All that changed when Rose was dragged into the hall by a strange man, a dagger pressed to her neck. He also did not like that Rose had called to me for help. My whole body shook in rage as Rose stood defenceless; she could not struggle free without her neck being cut open, and whoever this man was, he clearly had height and strength over her. Dammit!
"You!" Hawkeye snarled viciously, swinging around to aim his weapon at the man. Even as Iron Man cried for him to stop, the man holding Rose hostage merely thrust her in front of him, so that if Hawkeye fired an arrow she would be hit, taking the blow for the coward.
"Ah-ah, Bird brain!" He taunted him, "one move, and little Briar here will get another breathing hole." Realizing that Rose could not get away from that dagger, Hawkeye reluctantly lowered his weapon, a look of pure murder on his face.
"I knew I should've killed you, Hammer." The archer growled, "After hurting her like that; she never deserved it!"
"Oh, please." The man—Hammer—groaned, "She's nothing; just a means to hurt Stark. So what if I crushed that little heart of hers? Bitch was stupid enough to lose it in the first place." I did not to control the snarl that ripped through my through, even as Thor held me back by my shoulders. How dare that man insult my Rose?! She could never love him! She was mine, and mine alone!
"At least I didn't get my ass kicked by a girl." Rose rasped, an act that had Hammer pressing the blade closer to her windpipe with a snarl. Captain America joined Thor in his effort to hold me back from killing this man myself. What was left of my rational mind knew that attacking him outright would surely get Rose killed, and that fact didn't escape the notice of the others: each wearing their own mask of fury. But even with their anger, I doubt that their hearts were shattering like mine.
"Dammit, Zemo! Let her go!" Iron Man demanded desperately, "You have the Avengers; just let her go free!" Zemo answered his plea with a sinister chuckle.
"Mr. Hammer, it appears you have kept your end of the bargain." He calmly addressed, "You may leave with your prize." My heart froze and dropped into my stomach before churning painfully. I could not lose Rose, I could not! My desperation showed as I struggled against Thor's grip; the Captain having to hold Iron Man back to same way.
"Agreed, Baron." Hammer replied before directing his attention to Rose, "Well, sweetheart: say goodbye to these morons. It'll be the last time you'll see them again while in one piece." If that was meant to strike fear in her heart, it certainly did its job, her eyes widening in terror as she locked her gaze onto mine.
"Bye, losers." Hammer taunted mockingly, dragging the protesting Rose away. She started fighting back, screaming to be let go, and my heart wept at her cries. How could I have been so blind and let her go into harm?!
:Question yourself later, fool! Defeat the villains then rescue Rose.: My mind told me, my mind focusing on the matter at hand. Yes, I would fight with my fellow Avengers and drive Zemo and his ilk from this house, then I would do everything in my powers to find Rose and save her.
If she were—No! I cannot think of that! I will not think of her death!
Oh, Rose. Please, do not be dead before I can apologize.
######
ROSE'S POV
"LET ME GO!" I shrieked in fear, no longer caring about the knife at my throat: I just wanted to run back into the safety of Panther's arms, hearing that warm and loving voice of his tell me he would never let me go, and he'd protect me, keeping me safe and warm and happy.
Instead I was facing my worst nightmare of my ex-boyfriend finding me, and taking me away from everyone I cared about, to face a fate I know that wouldn't leave in me a hospital. If Justin had his way, I'd be dead before anyone could find me!
"Oh, shut up!" He growled fiercely, yanking my body out of the elevator, "there's no one left to save you now, so stop acting like there—" A loud and vicious snarl interrupted him, the sound causing us to stop moving. Blocking our way out of the room, his white fur standing on ends as his long sharp teeth bared themselves at Justin was Voltaire, looking royally pissed like the Devil that a strange man had dared to harm his owner. In that moment, I have never seen my friend look so intimidating; his sheer size alone was giving Justin serious doubts about his own survival.
Taking advantage of his shock, I jabbed my elbow into his gut with as much force as I could muster, his grip loosening enough to slip out from. I did wince at the sharp pain against my neck, but my adrenaline was pumping so hard that all I cared about was getting away.
Racing past my four-legged guardian angel, I fled into the foyer and headed to the staircase. Maybe it was adrenaline instead of logic guiding me now, but my first thought was to hide in my room while Justine was held at bay by Voltaire; plus there was the hope that T'Challa and the other Avengers would overcome the villains down in the sub-levels and arrive to stop Justin before he found me again.
That hope was dashed when I heard Voltaire yelp in pain, a sound that frozen me in my tracks. I slowly turned around on the staircase as Justin flew out of the room he was trapped in, looking around in a mad effort, his blade dripping in blood. Oh, God, no. When he finally saw me, frozen halfway on the staircase, his face began to morph from the fear and dread of facing a giant wolf-like beast in a face of malicious bliss of a predator having found his prey. He began walking towards me, my feet automatically moving my body backwards further up the staircase.
"There's no where you can run or hide, sweetheart." He callously smirked, delighting in my increasing fear. "As for your 'boyfriend' Panther? He's never gonna look at you the same way again: all he'll see is a weak and pathetic whore!" The moment the words left his lips, something inside of me froze, and not in fear, but in something else. Something much darker. It wasn't until I saw, over Justin's shoulder, my poor heroic Voltaire limping out to the foyer. The reason for his limp was the large jagged mess of blood on his side, the act of just trying to move making him whimper in agony. Seeing what this heartless monster had done to my best friend and closest friend, and what he had called me...I couldn't help it.
I simply snapped.
The moment we were on even ground, Justin lunged at me with the same dagger he'd used to hurt Voltaire, the blade tainted with his blood. My fury guided me to move my body to move like lightning to the side of his arm even as my hand shot up and grabbed his wrist. Bringing his arm to level, my other hand rushed forward and the palm against his elbow, the force behind my enraged attack made his elbow bend inward at an unnatural angle. The move took him by surprise, resulting in shouting in pain and dropping the dagger.
Once the blade was out of the way, my hands released their grip and shifted to grab him by the shoulder and the front of his shirt before dragging him forward and down to connect his stomach with my upward moving knee. The effect of him being winded was met, and my hands let go of him as my foot swept the dagger down the stair case. As he begun to double over in pain, I took my chance to blindly run.
I had barely move three paces before my hand was snatched back: he recovers quickly, I'll give him that, but I'm faster! In a fluid motion, my right hand balled into a fist as I swerved my body back around and slammed my fist into his nose, releasing a sickening yet satisfying crunch that made him howl in pain and rage. Taking my other hand back, I raised them in a defensive gesture even as my body swung around, my leg raising to let my foot connect with his ribcage, some of them giving an audibly snap.
Not stopping for a moment, I spun around and kicked him again, but this time Justin couldn't recover fast enough to correct his balance, and fell down the staircase. Down and down he tumbled before he came to a stop, his head smacking on the marbled floor.
I paused, watching for him to get back up. My fists never left their positions, ready to attack if he got up again. For a long and agonizing moment, nothing dared to breath, let alone move.
Then, from Justin's prone body that lay unnaturally against the stairs and floor, came something that I didn't expect. Blood, slowly beginning to spread from beneath his body and outwards.
I froze. Completely and utterly froze, even as I felt my own blood plummet to my feet. Oh, God...I've killed him.
I-I didn't mean to! I didn't; I just wanted him to stop hurting me! Oh, God. What have I done? WHAT HAVE I DONE?!
Black spots began to dance across my vision as I clamped my hand against my mouth, my body beginning to sway on its feet. :I've killed him! Dear, God, what have I done?!: I cried, the tears welling up in my eyes.
Everything was starting to cave in around me, threatening to send me to the darkest, most hellish place in my mind, when suddenly everything stopped—just stopped—and turned dark. I fell onto the floor, the darkness folding over me in a dreamless state of sleep. I felt something move to my side, and hands bringing me to an embrace, and I vaguely heard someone cry my name, but the darkness took over, and I knew no more.
:T'Challa...forgive me.:
Wow. Just...wow. I don't know who to more afraid of, and I friggin' wrote this thing! I mean, geez, T'Challa! I know you love her, but ease up! And, of course, there's Hammer. Yeesh: nas-tee! And then that finale!
Well, I hope you guys enjoyed this chapter. I shall make no promises (other than not updating the next chapter next year) instead wish everyone the best and saying farewell.