Wanda/T'Challa
After the Raft, they go to Wakanda.
T'Challa greets them upon their arrival, shaking Steve's hand and welcoming them to his home. His eyes flick over the others briefly, but she knows he misses nothing. His eyes may be quick, but his mind is quicker. That much is obvious.
He says nothing to her as he ushers them inside, but she feels his gaze linger on her for a moment. It makes her uncomfortable, and she huddles closer into Clint's side. He has held her since their escape, and she is glad for it. She isn't sure she could continue to stand on her own. Now Clint hugs her as she curls tighter against him and away from T'Challa's scrutiny.
Wanda is given medical care, clothes, a room. Clint offers to stay with her, but she shakes her head and turns him away. She wants to be alone. She wants to not feel the pressure to be "herself" again, whoever that is. She wants to simply be.
Days pass like this, until they force Wanda to leave her room for a while, saying how unhealthy it is for her to stay shut away all the time. She doesn't say anything, she hasn't spoken since before the Raft, but she leaves her room and walks the grounds instead.
She is sitting, watching the spray of a beautiful fountain, the light catching on the water and creating a rainbow in the air. She hasn't seen anything so beautiful in a long time.
She jumps when T'Challa appears next to her with that casual grace he always has. He doesn't sit, and she pulls her legs up to her chest and clutches her knees, waiting for judgment, waiting for his anger. She killed his countrymen. She fought against Stark and the Accords. She braces herself.
T'Challa doesn't say anything. He stays for a few minutes, then walks away, and she is confused, her guilt left eating at her. She puts her head down on her knees and tries not to cry.
The pattern continues. He finds her at random times, in random places. He doesn't speak. After the first couple of encounters, he begins to sit next to her instead of standing. After a couple of weeks, his visits start to become longer, a few minutes becomes ten, perhaps even more. She doesn't keep track.
She is wary at first, but as time goes on, she relaxes. She grows more comfortable with his strange brand of company. Unlike Clint and the others, he doesn't push, doesn't try to make her speak, doesn't ask questions she doesn't have the answers to. He is simply there, and she doesn't know why.
It is a month before he speak to her.
"I've been trying to understand you, Miss Maximoff," he says, and Wanda freezes, every muscle in her body instantly wound tight at his words. Her words. The words that have been scrawled across her body since before she can remember. He must mistake her sudden tension for anger or something, because he rushes to reassure her. "I do not hold your actions in Lagos against you, as some do. I know it was an unfortunate accident. The Accords were meant to try to prevent such accidents from happening, but I am afraid they have been used to justify the type of imprisonment you experienced, and that bothers me a great deal. I feel I must apologize for what you have gone through, Miss Maximoff. I won't let that happen again."
He is looking at her. She can feel his gaze, intense as it is, burning her. Just as she can still feel the sting of her soul mark Flaring.
"I have been trying to understand you. Here you are, probably the most powerful woman in the world, and yet you cringe away from my very presence. I don't understand what has broken you so, but for some reason, I wish to."
Wanda risks looking over at him, and immediately regrets it. His eyes draw her in. She can't bring herself to look away again. She settles for watching him watch her.
"I read about you," T'Challa continues. "You have been a very driven woman. That's why you have your powers, is it not? You wanted to affect change in the world."
"We wanted vengeance," she growls, her voice hoarse and cracking with disuse, but made strong by fury. She sounds almost unrecognizable even to herself. "Pietro and I, we wanted Tony Stark to die." The impact of her words hits him hard, she can tell. Her eyes flick down to his forearm, which he is rubbing now through his sleeve, and she knows he feels the Flare. "Pietro and I were consumed by our desire for vengeance, and it cost us his life." Angry tears spring to her eyes and she blinks them away.
"We could kid ourselves that we were doing this for the greater good, but no. We wanted to become stronger to take our revenge for the lives of our parents and for all those who had suffered at the hands of Stark and those like him. We wanted to destroy him above all else. It was our mission." She doesn't try to stop the flood of bitterness from showing in her voice or on her face. She lets go. She stops holding on so tightly, and it is freeing. "Don't assume you know why I have done the things I've done. You don't know me. I am powerful, but power guarantees nothing. It couldn't save my brother. It couldn't save me."
"I have also felt the need for vengeance. I stopped letting it consume me, but it was a hard thing." He looks sad, his voice soft, and her anger melts away.
"I am sorry. I should not have snapped at you like that." She sighs and hangs her head. She wonders if he still wants to know her after all of that. Probably not. "I will never sign the Accords because I do not wish to be controlled again. I have had too much of that in my life already. I will not be a weapon, to be aimed at whoever the 'Powers That Be' thinks deserves it. I will make my own choices."
T'Challa's steady gaze unnerves her, and she forces herself not to fidget. Her throat aches now, after being unused for so long, and she focuses on that. It helps.
"It's alright, Miss Maximoff. I understand." They are both quiet for a moment, gathering their thoughts, letting the tension settle. Slowly, Wanda begins to breathe easier, though she is startled when T'Challa clears his throat into their silence. "May I call you Wanda?" he asks, and he looks younger now, unsure of himself in a way she has not seen from him before.
"Yes," she says. "May I call you T'Challa?" He nods, and she smiles, a small smile, but a true one nevertheless. It feels strange on her face.
"You are my soulmate," he says. He looks at her in wonder. "No wonder I was drawn to you." Wanda remains quiet, unsure of what to say. She watches as T'Challa reaches towards her slowly and takes her hands in his own. She doesn't flinch. This surprises her. "I want to get to know you, Wanda. I hope that you would like to know me as well." He presses a soft kiss to her knuckles.
"I do," she says. "I think we are much alike."
His smile is blinding, and in it she sees hope.