Hello everyone, here is the next chapter, setting up a bit more plot. Even with a fix-it not everything is going to be perfect. I hope you all enjoy, read on!
Blank Panther is the property of Marvel Studios
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They ran through the fields with abandon, N'Jadaka chasing T'Challa as the sun shone brightly above the two, in skies so blue they seemed near tangible as if T'Challa could run his fingers through the seas of it. The older brother glanced behind him as the long stalks of grass grasped at his legs, soil firm and ticklish between the soles of his sandals, laughter bounding through the air, and a smile danced across his features. N'Jadaka grinned back at T'Challa even as he sped up long legs gaining distance as the (temporarily) taller prince drew closer to T'Challa.
Whipping around at the last minute, knowing when to give up the chase, the older brother braced himself letting N'Jadaka crash into him with a happy laugh and a huff. The two began rolling on the ground the instant they touched down clambering over each other and pushing at the stalks of grass as they scrabbled for purchase over the other, grinning carefree and bright up at each other.
After a minute more of rolling about through the dirt T'Challa tumbled off of N'Jadaka with a breathless huff, feeling the adrenaline blazing its way through his system and lighting his veins on fire. He laid peacefully beside his brother, the two panting, breaths heavy upon the air as they grinned up at the skies, restless twitching belaying the energy still thrumming beneath his fingers. T'Challa listened to the sound of his brother's exhales, to the wind whistling through the long grass, he basked in the warmth of the sun and the simple sensation of being and let his heart slow, steady and sure in his chest. The lack of responsibilities, lessons droning on an endless march through his mind, history, and technology and a thousand other things drifted away in the warmth of the sunlight and his brother's presence.
"T'Challa?"
N'Jadaka asked softly and faint, a murmur of his name lingering with fondness. T'Challa rolled over in the feathered grass to gaze at his younger brother, N'Jadaka's eyes, always so incredibly expressive, remained focused on the skies above.
"Hmm?"
The older prince made a vague sound of acknowledgement, fiddling with stalks of grass as he waited for his brother to speak. N'Jadaka rolled over after a minute and gazed into T'Challa's eyes for a moment before he responded, "Do we have to go back?"
Back to responsibility, to T'Challa's father, to expectations. The question lingered with something else, N'Jadaka's eyes something half shaded in the shadows of the grass stalks. T'Challa smile reassuringly, and even as he almost wanted to say something else he jokingly responded, "Shuri would be mad if we abandoned her to our parents."
The shadows cleared if only slightly and N'Jadaka nodded a bright grin splashing over his features so that they lit like the great star above them, when N'Jadaka smiled, he always smiled with every part of himself, his soul shining through his eyes and every inch of him. Few saw that true smile and all its brilliance, N'Jadaka was far from wearing his heart on his sleeve for all that it was the deepest part of him.
"We can't leave Shuri alone, who will teach her how to properly prank the guards?"
N'Jadaka continued eyes mischievous and sparkling, T'Challa grinned thinking of the innumerable pranks N'Jadaka had roped the older brother somewhat reluctantly into, and nodded responding easily, "Exactly."
The silence lingered as the two continued to breathe, studying the distant whimsical clouds on their careless flight, and listening to the whispers of the stalks around them. After a moment N'Jadaka quietly said, "Did you know the United States elected a black president for the first time in their history?"
It was said soft and distant as if trying to pass as a comment on the weather. Regardless T'Challa's shoulders tensed, but he nodded, recalling the media images their tutor had shown them with something close to pride but rippled through by a centuries-old pain.
His younger brother remained quiet for a moment longer, thoughts lingered like the clouds above them, before he continued, "Do you think it will change anything?"
T'Challa knew the response to that question, knew it deep inside the cavity of his chest. But he remained silent, unsure of how to proceed, how to temper the fury, so very righteous and honest and true, that always filled N'Jadaka like a rainfall when they talked of the situation of their brothers the world over, and Wakanda's own isolationism.
As if sensing dark thoughts, a cloud passed over the sun, temporarily casting a veil of shadows over the world before it fell away the next moment. T'Challa didn't give his brother a moment longer to contemplate it as he rolled over, and onto his brother with a knowing grin. The younger boy protested with a loud exhale of air hands helplessly tugging at T'Challa's arm.
The older brother only laughed as N'Jadaka whined and batted weakly at T'Challa's arms in an attempt to dislodge the older brother. Reluctantly after a minute the oldest prince rolled off his brother and carefully levered himself to his feet, extending an arm to his brother with a knowing look submerged beneath a flash of teeth and the curve of his lips.
N'Jadaka took the outstretched hand, and T'Challa easily pulled the younger to his feet, the two princes standing side by side as the grass swayed about their feet. Glancing once more at the sky T'Challa sighed and stated somewhat morosely, "We should probably head back, mom will yell at us if we're not presentable for dinner."
The younger boy nodded mulishly and responded, "Don't want to anger auntie." With all the knowing wisdom of any young boy facing a mother's prerogative before he visibly brightened and leaned over and tagged T'Challa on the arm. With a happy wave and bright laughter, N'Jadaka sprinted in the direction of Wakanda, its peaks and spirals glinting and shining where the sun reflected, as if calling them home. T'Challa stared for a moment before a determined grin tugged at his lips and he charged after his brother, heart pumping loudly in his ears as the wind rustled around him.
Within a few minutes they entered the first settlement, sitting on the outskirts of Wakanda, the citizens, going about daily life, stopped to watch as T'Challa chased N'Jadaka through the main street that paved a pathway to the general centre and marketplaces of Wakanda. Laughter echoed upon the air as they ducked around a cart, jumped over small walls, or whatever suited their fancy on their path chasing after one another with reckless abandon.
T'Challa for a minute prayed his brother would slow when they entered the inner city, bustling with vibrant life, bright colours draping near every surface with patterns calling in the summer air, the thick heady scent of heavy spices, cooking meat, and the light smell of juicy fruits, the chatter bursting and bubbling forth in a mix of Xhosa and other African dialects that flowed like one language, one great song, all reflecting the light of Wakanda's people. T'Challa always wanted to stop when they entered the city and just absorb the sheer brilliance of life. At the moment, however, N'Jadaka grinned tauntingly back at T'Challa, brown eyes lit like a fire crackling merrily with mischievousness that harkened N'Jadaka's soul as his younger brother winked and ducked into the busy streets. The older, and far more mature, brother shook his head and muttered about discipline and madness before following with the same spirit.
The two brothers weaved around people in a near endless game of hid and seek as they slipped out of view for a moment popping up a few feet away as they swerved around small groups of people tucked in the corners of the streets, or lines at the food vendors that sometimes seeming to stretch on and on forever. There was a good cheer about the afternoon air even as a few people stared with obvious exasperation at the two princes sprinting through the streets.
N'Jadaka finally slowed as they arrived at the centre of Wakanda, T'Challa panting happily behind him, their home proud and gleaming, familiar architecture, spirals, and designs that harkened to their ancestors, inspiring awe where it towered above them, reaching as if to touch the sky. The guard, a bright presence in crimson armour, at the door studied the princes with a quirk of her lips and grinning eyes, her features kind and bright as she slipped aside to let the two enter, eyeing the dust coating their clothing with something close to amusement.
The two princes stepped out of the lift, carefully glancing around with cautious eyes for the sight of T'Challa's mother, or his father, the Queen would probably, almost definitely throw a fit if she caught them tracking dust everywhere, and that wasn't to detract from whatever T'Chaka's reaction could be. Though she probably already knew, that mystical sixth sense all mothers seemed to have, T'Challa acknowledged with something close to a mournful sigh. N'Jadaka nodded, signing the way was all clear, and beckoned the two forward with a wave of his hand, it was safe, for a short time.
T'Challa glanced at N'Jadaka, then around the spacious room, as they entered the main complex and spotted Shuri sitting on the counter, feet swaying merrily, and a low humming beat resounding throughout the room. Their younger sister glanced up at the two as they entered, finally pulling her focus away from the tech in her hands, though T'Challa doubted she would ever truly be parted from it. The young princess rose an elegant eyebrow at the dust still covering their clothing, and the evidence of the sunlight brightening their eyes. She shook her head with a knowing look even as she returned to the piece of vibranium in her hands.
"Mom's not going to be happy."
Shuri stated simply, a mix of warning and the joy a sibling felt when the other was going to get into trouble, lining her voice. N'Jadaka scoffed and shook his head, muttering about getting caught first and chores. While T'Challa wisely decided to stay quiet for the moment already knowing the truth and having seen the dusty footprints he doubted they would escape entirely without being flayed alive.
"Same for you there, dear sis."
T'Challa warned with a laugh on his breath as he slid over to his sister, he leant casually against the counter and nodded towards the glowing tablet in her hands. Their father had originally been vastly opposed to Shuri becoming entwined with vibranium and all it's technological wonders, preferring, like much of Wakanda, to follow tradition, or least to lead his youngest daughter away from tech. But Shuri had those perfect eyes that could turn a steel hardened man to nothing but goo, suffice to say T'Chaka hadn't lasted five minutes before he caved.
The oldest prince believed that it was the right decision, Shuri was already shaping to be a genius, understanding concepts of technology most kids struggled to grasp, he still fondly recalled her toddler years. Endless talking, and endless questions all manner of the day, at any time. It was still much the same now, though perhaps a bit more tempered by her own wit and ability to find things on her own when needed.
Shuri would at heart never be a traditionalist, her spirit was just as wild as the older princes' and their mother was usually less the pleased when Shuri skipped on lessons or scoffed at tradition. Hence the no technology ban for a week (their mother would relent after three days of sad-kicked-puppy looks) after the somewhat disastrous dinner with the Border Tribe.
N'Jadaka made a hum of agreement nodding his head with all the presence of someone knowing from experience as he slid beside T'Challa handing him a rough damp cloth. The elder prince nodded his head in gratitude and cleaned away the dust with careful movements, before turning to N'Jadaka and catching the dust that lingered where the younger had missed with a half-gentle motion that almost earned him a swat.
Shuri rolled her eyes and stuck out her tongue at the two, the picture of mature before her eyes lit up with something not quite vindictive but pleased nonetheless. T'Challa silently mourned a future where Shuri and N'Jadaka would work together to prank Wakanda into oblivion.
"At least I don't have a council meeting in an hour."
The two brothers shared an equally startled look, one followed by a look of horror. T'Challa silently rested his palm against his forehead and he wondered how he could have forgotten even as he mourned the existence of such meetings. Across from him, N'Jadaka made an aborted motion to swear (he had picked up the most interesting slang from America and would likely happily teach Shuri in the future, he had already proudly taught T'Challa most of what he knew) before N'Jadaka glanced at their younger sister and instead resigned himself to shaking his head in mourning.
As if announcing their doom, the hydraulic hiss of the lifts opening echoed throughout the living space, and Shuri shot the two a warning look full of bright-eyed amusement as she tucked the small tablet out of sight and pulled out a thin novel. N'Jadaka reached over and ruffled her short hair quickly with a muffled, "Brat." before the two brothers sprinted out of the room, dread at the council meeting already lingering like clouds over the once bright sunlight of the day.
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T'Challa stood behind his father, N'Jadaka on the other side of the throne as the council of elders gathered around the King. They were both doing their best attempt to imitate stone statues, perfectly apathetic and attentive as T'Chaka spoke to the elder council, about local trade between the tribes, the status of their people, their War Dogs, stationed in the outside world, patrols on the border. It was one of the duller meetings T'Challa had had the pleasure attending, though most were dull, and he didn't aggrieve the obvious peace and lack of conflict it signified. Still, he knew N'Jadaka has likely started counting the beads on the leader of the mining tribe's robes, again. The meetings were rarely ever anything close to exciting, Wakanda had known peace for many years, the closest to trouble was perhaps when Klaue was spotted on the North American continent a near year ago.
The older prince shivered at the memory, though he made sure it was imperceptible to the members of the council, as he recalled the tense council meeting and the shadow stricken afterwards. There had been yelling, from all members of the council, waring over chasing after the man who had been a blight on Wakanda's history for many years, and others dismissing the man for the American authorities.
N'Jadaka had vibrated with rage at the mention of the man who had been in accordance with his father's, T'Challa's Uncle's, death, the emotion filling his eyes like the spirit of Bast had descended. When T'Chaka had dismissed the concerns of the council, preferring to put the incident, memories of his brother's death and his betrayal behind him, the warmth T'Challa had known all his life had frozen over, something cold as ice when the final verdict was delivered to leave the criminal in the North Americans' hands. The older brother had seen the way N'Jadaka's fingers had bleached pale where they dug into his palms and sympathized with both his brother and his father, T'Challa couldn't imagine the pain of N'Jadaka betraying him, or watching N'Jadaka hurt one of his family members.
After, T'Challa had wrapped his brother's hands with gauze, where crescents of blood welled up, and N'Jadaka had seethed. It was the wordless fury, the kind that T'Challa had seen only twice in his brother, and once tugging at his own emotions, till they were buried beneath an all-consuming cold wrath.
It scared him. That anger and what fell away in its place, boundaries, laws, religion, everything seemed to fall by the wayside as it surged like a thick taint. To stop N'Jadaka's anger before it consumed him, T'Challa had offered a spar, hoping to soothe the young prince. He had returned bruised, far more bruised than any previous training sessions, his brother had followed in the same manner.
Minutely shaking away phantom pains, T'Challa glanced at his brother, who shared a soft hidden smile and a raised brow eyes pointing at the leader of the Water tribe. T'Challa muffled a laugh, grin pulling at the corner of his lips as he attempted to maintain a serious expression. He rolled his eyes at his brother even as his eyes strayed to the Water tribe leader, they had rather unfortunately fallen asleep, though few would be able to tell with the open eyes and somewhat attentive features. When you spend enough time standing still as a statue with little entertainment, you notice many more things than one normally would; T'Chaka had laughed at their complaining and called it practice, N'Jadaka called it torture.
N'Jadaka subtly tapped his knuckle with his finger and T'Challa mirrored the action with a hidden grin as the unspoken joke passed between the two. The older Prince froze as his mother turned slightly in her seat to send the two a warning look. Eyes in the back of her head T'Challa and N'Jadaka swore on it. The Queen shook her head slightly, a fond smile for the two of them and their antics playing across her features and making them glow before it disappeared as she returned her focus to the council. T'Challa could only wonder how his mother would handle Shuri when she would be old enough to sit on the council. Already the little genius has shown an intense dislike of formality, not that T'Challa could blame the young girl.
N'Jadaka mimed snapping with his fingers beside T'Challa, the older prince nodded and glanced briefly behind him where the sun was beginning to set, and the dark hues of night were descending upon the sky with relish and grace. As if sensing the late hour, the murmurs of a council drew to an almost soundless rustle as the King studied the gathered elders with wisdom like stars on his brow, and with all the love of a King for his people.
The elders bowed their heads in respect as T'Challa's father finished the council meeting, slowly shifting out of their chairs older bones creaking in protest. The leader of the Merchant tribe stepped forward to converse with T'Chaka in private for a moment as the two princes watched silently, the anxious desire to escape the throne room escaping in a drum of fingers and traded eye rolls.
Finally, the council room was empty of all but T'Challa's family, and the guards, glinting crimson in the hues of the lamps lining the walls and the glint of the city seeping in from the large windows. T'Chaka turned with the Queen to face the two princes, there was a warm pride on T'Challa's father's features, tempered as it was by the late hour, as he studied the two of them, eyes sweeping swiftly over N'Jadaka and settling more firmly on T'Challa the heir to the throne.
The proud look slipped away for something deeper a bit more drawn out and his father commented, "One day, T'Challa you will rule Wakanda, you must be able to guide the council through whatever situations arise."
T'Challa nodded wordlessly, bowing his head in acknowledgement even as he glanced at N'Jadaka who was mirroring the motion fingers clenched into fists at his side. Wordlessly the two brothers glanced at each other from the corners of their eyes and rolled their eyes at T'Chaka's obvious care for the heir to the throne. Even as the humour was tempered by a slight bitterness. It always seemed that T'Chaka's eyes passed over N'Jadaka too swiftly as if seeing a spectre of the past and unable to bear it he looked away.
There were many moments where he was genuinely warm and open with N'Jadaka, teaching the two young princes the art of fighting with a shield and spear, lessons on the vast history of Wakanda and its tribes. But there were other moments and T'Challa knew his brother suffered for them, and he could do little but try to exemplify the brightness of his brother's spirit in the eyes of his father.
The King's eyes roved once more over his son, and the son of his brother before he shared a warm look with the Queen and stated, "Come let us retire for dinner."
T'Challa and N'Jadaka bowed following the Queen and King as they glided gracefully from the room. Silently N'Jadaka reached out and squeezed T'Challa's fingers seeking wordless comfort from the older brother. T'Challa squeezed back and shot N'Jadaka a reassuring smile, trying to convey everything his brother was to him in the gesture. N'Jadaka nodded and grinned bumping his shoulder into T'Challa's as he grumbled about not having to eat Feijoada again. The older prince just laughed and ruffled his brother's hair shoving back against N'Jadaka's shoulder with a fond smile.
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Thank you all for reading, reviews, comments are always appreciated. Till next time!
Note: I am still looking for a beta with a black background if anyone is interested? You don't have to be a literary genius, I'm just looking for someone to make sure the context fits and the like. It would be much appreciated.