Hope you all enjoy this one!
Disclaimer: I do not own Black Panther.
He meets Shuri a week later when she comes to make some incomprehensible adjustments to the software governing his cell.
"Hey princess," he says. There's bite in his voice. He hates being a prisoner, hates it. Shuri is the first person he's seen besides the guards in a week.
Shuri ignores him. Smart girl but Erik doesn't feel like being ignored today.
"No hard feelings, right?" It's the one thing he's sure will get a response out of her beside goading her about her brother. But Erik wants to leave that wasp's nest for a time he really needs to get information out of her.
Shuri grits her teeth but doesn't reply. Erik's impressed a little. Princess ain't so bad, at least she's not hopelessly trusting like her brother.
"I mean," Erik continues, "It wasn't personal you know. You were in the way."
Shuri whirls at last. "I saved your life," she said. "You tried to kill me when you didn't have to."
Erik opens his mouth to reply but Shuri apparently possesses the same speaking speed as her brother. She talks right over him.
"You owe me."
"I owe you?" Erik is incredulous. "You saved me to put me in a cage and I owe you?"
"If not for your life then for trying to kill me. You want to get rid of hard feelings then you do one thing for me."
That has his attention.
"What do you want 'lil cuz?"
"I want you to answer a question for me," Shuri says. "But you've got to think about it. No cop outs. No telling me it can't be done. I want an answer Erik. A good, detailed one."
It not what he was expecting. The hell it is with his wakandan cousins? Why can't they ever react like he expects them to? They used to.
But Shuri is staring at him, eyes intense and he can see that this means something to her. That if he comes up with the answer to her question, she really will let go of the fact that he tried to kill her.
"Fine," he shrugs. "Not like I've got anything to do here anyway. Hit me cuz." She says one line and walks away.
"How do you free the opressed without becoming the opressors?"
Shit.
Princess ain't half bad at this shit. He's got T'Challa thinking about his plan and now she has him thinking about T'Challa's plan. He wants to ignore it, tries to ignore her question but Shuri, like her brother, wears a presence. It's Wakandan royalty but more than that she is princess of Wakanda not just by blood but by the role she plays. He's served under many men who thought they had comanding presences but he can't think of one that had the intensity to match that of Shuri's eyes. She and her brother both had spines of steel...no vibranium. Erik sighs and decides he might as well stop trying to avoid the question. A day might come when he needs to be on the princesses' good side.
Erik wakes up practically naked. He stares at what used to be his clothes and then asks his guards to see Shuri. T'Challa comes instead.
"The hell is this cuz?" He asks. He holds up the shreds of white cloth.
"Ahh apparently Shuri designed this cloth for prisoners to ensure they don't try to kill themselves or other by garroting or hanging. Or to aid escape."
T'challa coughs delicately. The bastard is trying not to smile. "It falls apart when a certain threshold level of strain is reached."
"Well you can tell the princess that she's got a design flaw because I'm pretty sure I didn't try to hang myself or garotte anybody." Erik says acidly.
"In my humble opinion," said T'Challa still trying not to laugh. "I think it got twisted under you. I'll pass your complaints to Shuri."
Erik gives him a flat look and throws the scraps of cloth at him. It hits the glass with an unsatisfying flutter.
T'Challa moves to the dip. The dip is the only opening into his cell besides the doors. He drops in the extra clothes he brought with him. The clothes slide through the slot, then Erik has to wait while the opening on T'Challa's end is closed, then something happens to the objects in the dip when both ends are sealed and finally the little slot on his side opens. It's just big enough for a sealed tray of food and when it closes Erik can't even find the seam.
Erik snatches the clothes and tugs them on.
"So how's the plan coming cuz?
"It's coming," said T'Challa. "There are a lot of intricacies and considerations to deal with but I feel like we are progressing at a good pace."
"And how's the other plans coming?" Erik's eyes are daring.
"They're coming," said T'Challa shortly. Erik huffs softly with laughter. It is first bit of real pleasure he's felt since he's been in this cage. Serves him damn right.
He doesn't see anyone after that for 18 days. He can't even mark the walls to see the passage of time. On the fifth day he's feeling trapped in his very skin. He paces like a caged beast. He works out. He tries to jolt news from his guards. He twists his clothes to shreds so much that they almost stop giving him replacements.
It's not that he isn't patient. Erik can wait for months to get a crack at a mark but that's a job. He has focus, a goal but this? This endless waiting for nothing, this existing in only four walls of silver is the closest thing to hell he's come. He understands now, so much more intimately, what it is to choose death over slavery. Erik doesn't think he can bear a lifetime of this. He'll kill somebody, anybody, just to get an end. He doesn't have anything to lose.
T'Challa appears on day nineteen and Erik wants to twist his neck, hear the satisfying pop as it breaks, see his body fall limp and un-puppeted.
"I'm sorry," T'Challa says. "I've neglected you."
"Don't mind me Cuz," he says. "I'm just rotting in here."
It's good to see the flicker of remorse cross T'Challa's face but it also makes Erik feel disgusted. He's weak. He's so damn weak. He'll run Wakanda to the ground, lose their chance to free his people.
We've made the official announcements," T'Challa tells him. "Things have been hectic."
"I'm sure," Erik says mockingly. "You got any thing for me cuz or can I get back to decomposing?"
T'Challa pulls out a tablet from behind his back and slides it through the dip. Erik snatches it when it comes through.
"Basic information," said T'Challa, "of how people are reacting. Figures we think should be watched. Anything else you want, request it on the tablet and it'll be sent to you."
"Fine," says Erik. He's paging through the tablet already deliberately ignoring his cousin. T'Challa stands there for a second longer likes he's expecting Erik to say something. Erik doesn't and he leaves. With T'Challa gone Erik really starts to examine the tablet. It wasn't like the beads they wore, not the same tech. The tablet can't connect to the internet. It can't even connect to the Wakandan mainframe. He's literally on a different LAN, created just for him. He can't hack anywhere with the thing.
He smacks it hard to see if it will shatter. The tablet takes the blow like a pro and its unbroken screen stares back smugly at Erik. Erik resigns himself to not getting anything useful out of the tablet either. Looks like he's stuck playing T'Challa's game for now.
R&R please!