Here we are! The second half of this fic. This, and a part of the next AU, is the closest I plan on ever getting to the Civil War. Really, that movie makes me hurt so much... Like I think I've said before, I am Team Iron Man all the way, and I just have a feeling that, whatever might happen in 'Infinity War', he will not be getting justice for everything that's been said and done against him. I also happen to like T'Challa a lot, which is what I actually showed in this particular fic.
The Wakandan comes from Xhosa, which I believe is Marvel's base for the language (I used google translate, so if everything's wrong, I'm sorry).
The names from the Dora Milaje come from wiki, though of course they're not exactly as they were in the comic.
The song in this chapter is "Hand of Sorrow" as sung by Within Temptation.
And that's that, on with the chapter!
Princess
There always comes a time, when we must stand by what we believe in.
Time passed. In 2015 we all watched how all laws of physics and nature were broken during something that Loki told me was called the Convergence. We also watched footage of him and Thor battling against an army of what I recognized had to be dark-elves (I could hardly believe what I was seeing... they were supposed to be extinct! To have been for five thousand years!). In the end the battle was won, and the damage wasn't as bad as it could have been. I hated not being there to see my love, but at least the journal made our distance easier (or at least less hard) to bear. And the world kept turning.
At some point an unexpected discovery was made. I could use magic. It began accidentally. One evening I was walking through a construction zone and there was some accident several levels up, which caused dirt, timber and even rocks to fall our way. Nareema, the Dora Milaje assigned to my protection, had done her best to push me away from the danger zone. I landed on one knee, spun and screamed in denial, not wanting her, or anyone else to be hurt; and suddenly there was a dome surrounding us all, translucent, with a lilac-ish tint to it, I could feel the rocks and pieces of wood as if they were falling on my own skin, only not as badly as I'm sure they'd have felt in reality. I managed to keep the shield up long enough for the people to get out of the way, and the moment I breathed out in relief, it flickered out.
That was just the beginning. As it turned out I was changing, in ways no Wakanda scientist could fully understand. Carter suggested it might be related to my past life. I did realize something though, the magic I was using... it was Loki's. I was channeling his power (we thought the tattoo of his symbol was connected somehow). It took a while, but eventually I learned to use it. It was too late for it to be a secret inside the country, but the people were so close, so loyal, they made sure no one outside our beautiful country would ever know. I was their princess, their guardian... and they loved me. It filled me with pride and humility all at the same time.
In 2016 Kendra Hall graduated with honors in her chosen fields. We were all right there to watch her walk across the stage to receive her diploma. The next day we were on a plane to Wakanda, where she was introduced, first to the Black Panther tribe, and later on the rest of the country as T'Challa's intended. Not everyone loved her straight away, but with time and a little effort she managed to earn the love of her tribe and most of the country. The two of them were married in early fall of 2017.
Carter Hall passed away a month afterwards, and while we all paid our respects and followed the funerary rights and the mourning period as expected, in private we celebrated. Because a good man was at peace, and back with his match. Carter knew his daughter was safe and loved, and that was why he could finally let go, answer his soul's prayers and move on, to where he might finally be joined to his True Love once again. As sad as his passing might be, as sad as death might always be, a part of me was also happy for them.
By the summer of 2019 things had gotten pretty dicey on a world-wide level where it came to heroes and the way they were viewed by average people. It might have started in midsummer of 2016, with the disaster that ended with the utter destruction of Novi Grad, Sokovia. We were there afterwards, as part of the relief efforts (like we'd been in Johannesburg before), part of a foundation mom had created in Wakanda, meant to aid other nations in need (it was meant to be the beginning of the end of Wakanda's isolation). There was so much destruction, a complete city totally obliterated, so many dead and the survivors... the survivors were almost worse, the pain, the loss, the near-emptiness in their eyes. It hurt something deep inside of me.
I sang a lot during that time. Sang for the children, to help them sleep, to try and comfort them after their nightmares, to try and instill hope in them, that not all was lost... I know not how helpful I was in the end, though some did thank me for my intentions. 'Songbird' they called me (since we weren't giving our names, at King T'Chaka's insistence, for our own safety, and so as not to call unneeded attention onto ourselves).
There were those who believed the unrest had actually begun in May of 2016, with the revelation of HYDRA within SHIELD; everything that was dumped on the net out of the blue... It was fascinating, terrifying and sickening, all at the same time. I couldn't begin to imagine who ever thought something like that was a good idea (whoever did certainly did not stop to consider all the innocents...). All the people whose lives must have been destroyed (the undercover agents who suddenly found themselves outed, the people who'd unknowingly done things for Hydra and found the world turning against them out of the blue, those who might have suffered yet endured it until learning it wasn't worth it).
In the end I did not know which of those was behind the unrest; though I certainly rather it be either of those, and not, as some people believed: New York. Because if we'd been headed down that road all along... what kind of hope was there for the future?
When Father (he insisted on me calling him that, and a part of me really liked doing so, having more people to call and consider family) first brought the Accords to us, just after the anniversary of the tragedy in Sokovia, I wasn't sure I liked the idea much. I could see the need for something like that (though I was sure not everyone would), but I just kept getting terrifying images of all the ways things could go wrong). Still, I loved, respected and trusted Father too much to push the Accords away as a whole, so instead we all sat down together and got to work on them. I also took advantage of my little journal and consulted with Loki a few times, he just had a way with words... My previous life as a princess even turned out to be useful, as I found loopholes and ways to cover them without making the whole Accords seem like chains. They were meant to give security, to both the average humans and the heroes, not to restrain either side.
Eventually, when we had something that we trusted enough to work, we took it to the UN. It took a little while, and some refining here and there, but soon enough 117 nations were adding their voice to the Accords (half of them had actually wanted something harder, stricter, but in the end were willing to give the accords a chance). I didn't know when the document became the Sokovia Accords, exactly; though I did know some people were using that tragedy to push them through. I didn't much like the man who seemed to be in charge of most of it, the American Secretary of State: Thaddeus Ross. I'd researched the man, after first hearing his name, and there was a lot about him I did not like; but he was American, and I was Wakandan (technically I still had both my American and British citizenships, but my life was in Wakanda, and I took that seriously). I was hopeful someone would eventually get enough on him to take him away and put someone better in his place.
The addition of Tony Stark to our group actually helped us a lot. As the sponsor and second in command of the Avengers he carried weight in getting something like the Sokovia Accords to pass. He also seemed to know Ross, know how to deal with him, something we were probably all thankful for.
We were all stressing out over the upcoming conference in Vienna, Austria (marked for the 31st of July of 2019, exactly a day after the second anniversary of Sokovia), where the ratification of the Accords was supposed to take place, when tragedy struck.
Mom and a group of volunteers from the Kasun Foundation were in Nigeria on a mercy mission when they ended, completely accidentally, in the middle of a fight between the Avengers and a terrorist known as Crossbones (who, unknown to some people was former SHIELD/Hydra Agent Brock Rumlow). Things got really bad, half of the volunteers died in the explosion that marked the end of the confrontation, and most of the rest were badly injured... mom herself was badly injured, many said it was a miracle she survived.
xXx
We made it to Vienna, more than a little stressed out. I knew that we all felt like we'd rather be in Wakanda, with mom (who'd yet to wake up, though the doctors assured us she would, that she was out of danger) and the other injured. But the Accords were too important, and we'd been a part of them from the beginning, we couldn't just ignore that. Also, Father could be a hard man, when he felt his people were at risk, and he was certainly feeling it after Lagos; the rest of us were needed to balance him out.
Thankfully, most people weren't really paying any attention to me. They had enough of a party with King T'Chaka, Crown Prince T'Challa and Crown Princess Kendra. To almost everyone who looked at me I was simply the King's attache, his PA basically. Even the few who might know my name: Silbhé Kasun, had no way of knowing I was the adopted daughter of King T'Chaka, and effectively Wakanda's youngest princess. We all preferred it that way.
Ayo, Aneka, Okoye and Nareema were the only Doras with us, which they obviously did not like. Under normal circumstances, while out of Wakanda each of us should have had two of them guarding us. But the nature of our presence there... Kendra had been the one to bring it up first, insisting that too many bodyguards would have made it look like we didn't trust the UN, and we were supposed to show we were all working together; and much as we might not admit it, we all knew she was right, so the number of bodyguards was halved. Probably the only reason they had not gone nuts at the very idea was that they knew how capable both T'Challa and Kendra were as warriors, not for nothing they were the Black Panther and the new Hawkgirl. Father was past his prime, but not defenseless, and even I knew enough to look after myself.
Even after the kidnapping, I could never be truly considered one of the Dora Milaje, and I knew not to take it as an insult. I wasn't a member of any of their tribes, and while I called the Black Panther Tribe my own, it just wasn't the same. Also, a princess (even an adopted one) just wasn't supposed to be a bodyguard (though we all knew that in a real emergency I was ready and willing to serve as a last line of defense).
We greeted Tony as soon as we arrived one of the few people we knew, and the only one we actually liked. Then T'Challa and Kendra approached Miss Natasha Romanoff, the Black Widow. My brother was curious about her, had been since we'd seen the footage of her in Capitol Hill after the Hydra reveal and the mess in Washington D.C. And Kendra, of course, would always follow where he lead. As their first official event outside of Wakanda since their marriage, they were presenting a united front; they were, after all, the future King and Queen of Wakanda.
I shadowed Father silently, observing everything, fingering my tattoos almost convulsively (it was a tick sorts I'd developed, whenever I was nervous); something was coming, I could feel it, could sense it like some kind of pressure in the very air I breathed. I just hoped to be ready if/when the hammer fell...
Miss Romanoff apologized for what happened in Nigeria, and I could barely hold back the flinch at the reminder. Which made her eyes turned to me.
"I really am, sorry, Miss Kasun..." She murmured, inclining her head to me.
I did not ask how she knew my name, it didn't really surprise me, she was a spy after all.
"I hope the Accords might allow us to prevent other such tragedies in the future." I said as evenly as I possibly could.
"I was sad to hear Captain Rogers would not be joining us today." Father commented then.
"Yes, so am I." Romanoff agreed.
Our little conversation was interrupted as a voice on the speakers asked for everyone to take their places, the assembly was about to begin.
The beginning was quite boring. With all the introductions and the protocols, speeches of our hosts... and then Father was introduced and called to the podium. As the acknowledge creator of the Accords, he was the key speaker of the event. I followed him of course, though keeping a respectful distance away; T'Challa and Kendra, for the part, stood, though while remaining on the other side of the room; showing support yet not wanting to crowd King T'Chaka.
I could tell T'Challa was bored. He'd never been exactly a fan of diplomatic events. There was a reason why he was known as the Warrior-Prince, while Shuri was the Gentle-Princess, the one whose diplomatic skills were greatly admired.
"When stolen Wakandan vibranium was used to make a terrible weapon, we, in Wakanda, were forced to question our legacy." Father's speech was well-rehearsed, every word, every inflexion, and it showed. "Those men and women killed in Nigeria, were part of a goodwill mission from a country too long in the shadows. We will not, however, let misfortune drive us back. We will fight to improve the world we wish to join. I am grateful to the Avengers for supporting this initiative. Wakanda is proud to extend it's hand in peace."
The change in mood was so sudden I couldn't help but tense. One moment T'Challa had been completely bored, and the next... it was like he was about to jump into a fight, and then...
"Everybody get down!" He screamed, even as he made to run in our direction.
"Silbhé!" Kendra's own scream sent a rush of adrenaline through my veins.
I hadn't the slightest idea of what was going on; I just knew one thing for sure: something was very, very wrong... following my instincts I spun around, threw my arms out and cried out:
"Algiz!"
The word wasn't technically a spell, it was actually a rune. But since the magic I wielded wasn't my own, but Loki's, I sometimes needed something to guide that magic, to show my intent in a more direct way than mere thoughts; I'd chosen runes, because they were something I understood and could easily connect with magic. Algiz in particular was the rune for protection, concealment and opportunity... so quite appropriate, really.
The translucent off-white/lilac tinted shield materialized at my fingertips, a fraction of a second before all windows were blown up and the black smoke of an explosion came at us. I could feel it striking at me, at my power. I could almost stand it... almost... a second sound of glass breaking preceded my failure, and then the dark smoke swallowed me and I knew no more.
xXx
The first thing I felt when waking up was confusion. Not about waking up, thankfully, I hadn't been that bad off. I knew my shield had managed to deflect most of the power behind that explosion, and even what did hit me was lessened considerably thanks to my pendant. It couldn't stop me from being thrown threw the air, or losing consciousness (though I had a feeling that could be more connected to me being drained of power, than any actual damage), but that was alright. Even before opening my eyes I paid close attention to my body, aside from a few sores and what felt like slight contusions, everything was fine. All but one thing, or two: first, I couldn't hear Nareema in the room; even silent as all the Dora's were, I should have been able to hear her breathing; and second, I was sensing another presence in the room.
"Maverick..." My preferred nickname for him crossed my lips before I was even fully conscious of even thinking it.
"I really don't like this, Nightingale." He murmured, taking one of my hand in both of his (the one that didn't have a needle in it). "I hate you being here, so vulnerable, so hurt..."
"I'm fine." I answered automatically, then thought of something else. "Father..."
"The King is alright." My love assured me. "Some bumps and bruises, but healing remarkably fast already, I didn't even have to offer any Asgardian means to help him along. He's in the next room, sleeping, the lady-warriors guarding him tell me it's normal and that he shall recover in a few days. His worst injury was a sprained knee and a broken wrist, but both will heal in due time. You need not worry Nightingale."
"We had less than three seconds of warning." I muttered, breathing deeply. "T'Challa and Kendra were so terrified..." I swallowed. "They've gone hunting, haven't they?"
I knew them well enough; and while Kendra wasn't quite as bloodthirsty as her husband could get... family had been hurt, both Father and I could have died, if I didn't have the power I did, the blessings I did. And it all happening so recently after the thing at Lagos...
"They were gone by the time I got here, but that is the Warrior-Ladies' belief." He nodded.
"And talking about the Dora Milaje." I quipped with a half-smile. "Where is Nareema?"
"Outside the door." He smiled back at me. "I convinced her you were safe with me..." Something in my expression must have told him I didn't believe that to be the whole truth. "Fine... and your Father might have told her that it was alright."
That sounded more like Nareema.
Something occurred to me then. I didn't even allow myself to think too much about it, in the end I just followed my instinct, pulling my match to me and swallowing his wordless exclamation at the sudden move with a hungry kiss.
We kissed for a long time. Hungry, passionate kisses, followed by slow, tender, almost playful ones. A hospital wasn't the place to consummate our bond, of course not (especially not with Nareema at the door and Father in the next room), but just kissing was enough for the time being. And afterwards I found myself cuddled into him, somehow managing to fit the two of us in the narrow bed (it helped that I was so small). I fell asleep at some point.
xXx
I woke up again to the hissing, arguing voices of Nareema, Aneka and Loki, even before being able to understand what they were saying, I knew something was off, and then:
"They were shooting at him!" Aneka practically snarled.
"Who was shooting at whom?!" I demanded, instantly sitting up, pushing the vertigo aside almost viciously and forcing myself to focus.
"The CIA task force." Aneka spat. "The ones sent in to capture Barnes for the explosion. They fired upon him, and upon our prince and princess."
"Wha...?" I wasn't expecting that. "But why?" Something else occurred to him then. "How do they even know Barnes has anything to do with it?"
"There's video footage." Nareema explained, calmer than Aneka, as she showed me the video.
The video lasted just a few seconds, and I couldn't help but arch a brow.
"Really?" I asked, unable to help my absolute disbelief. "This is truly the best proof they have? That could be practically anyone beneath that jacket and hoody! Even the best facial recognition software... even our facial recognition software couldn't possibly gather enough points for a definite identification!"
Something else occurred to me then, and then I was sitting on the bed, feet off the edge, forcing my head to stay with me, as I prepared to stand up, even as I looked around trying to think where they might have left my clothes... until I realized that, with the explosion and all, the clothes I'd been wearing the day before were probably useless.
"Inenekazi lam (my lady!)" Nareema and Aneka cried out in unison.
"Nightingale!" Loki cried out at the same time, teleporting just in time to catch me before my legs folded beneath me and I fell. "What are you doing?"
"I need to get out of this bed, out of this room." I stated, using him to hold myself up.
"You're still recovering." Aneka tried to insist.
"There's no time." I insisted, then looked them both in the eye as I added. "Someone just shot at my brother and his wife, someone just effectively tried to kill the future King and Queen of Wakanda. It doesn't matter if they didn't know who they were. We all know Father will never take this lying down. This is exactly why I'm here, to balance him out. I need to be there."
I knew they didn't like it, probably hated it even, but they knew I was right. So much had gone wrong, we needed to find a way to fix things, before worse came to worst. I also suspected that the window for managing that was small, and getting smaller...
An hour later I'd gotten a change of clothes consisting of two layers: a light-gray pant-bodysuit with a high neck and sleeves that were separate and left my shoulders bare, though they went all the way to just beneath my fingers, and a band holding it under my feet. The 2nd layer consisted of a pale-lilac dress, in which the upper half was exactly the same as the bodysuit (though no sleeves), while the lower was a loose skirt with a slash down the front, allowing the lower half of the bodysuit to be seen if I moved a certain way, it also went to just above my feet on the front and trailed an inch or two in the back; a thin white sash marked my waist and the ensemble was finished with white ballerinas, which gave me a bit of a more elegant look. My hair was pulled back in a half-twist with a bird-shaped clip that combined all colors of gold (leaving just enough hair down to hide my bid tattoo (the others were concealed beneath the sleeves).
Father dressed in one of his suits, and as soon as the paperwork was done (the doctors at the hospital didn't like it, but in the end we signed ourselves out) we were on a helicopter en route to Berlin. According to the reports, the special team were on their way already, they had Rogers, Barnes, Wilson, as well as my brother and sister.
I was right. Father was angry. I was also right that my presence helped calm him at least a little, if only because he didn't want me to see him out of control. I just hoped my presence would be enough once we got to Berlin...
xXx
We arrived just as they were being brought in:
"You will be provided with an office instead of a cell." The blonde man in the gray suit was saying to my brother and sister. "Do me a favor, stay in it."
"I'm not intending on going anywhere." T'Challa stated, probably trying to be pacifying.
"No, you're not." I spoke up as the six of us joined them (Loki was staying invisible for the time being). "Things are messy enough already."
"Usisi Omncinci (little sister)." He greeted, before turning to our Father and lowering his eyes in shame. "Utata (Father)..."
"Oh unyana wam (my son)..." Father let out a breath.
I had a feeling he probably understood, at least to a point, why T'Challa and Kendra had done what they did. He might not like it, but he understood it.
"Your Majesty." The man greeted Father with a respectful bow, before looking at me and adding, a bit unsure: "Ma'am...? I'm Everett Rose, deputy task force commander."
"Lady Silbhé." I introduced myself. "Adopted daughter of King T'Chaka and, as such, princess of Wakanda. You, of course, have already met my Father and siblings."
"My lady?" He bowed his head at me. "I'm afraid none of us were aware you were part of the Royal Family, when you arrived..."
"I know." I nodded calmly. "I'm afraid that was done on purpose. Not due to any lack of trust or trouble on either side, but simply because I insisted on it. I believed it would be easier if you only needed to worry about three of us, rather than four." I took a deep breath before I remembered something else. "Also, your people, shooting at my brother and sister, not the best choice they could have made, and certainly not one either my Father or I appreciate. I understand their mission was hard, and that some people had been injured, badly even, by that point, but lethal action is supposed to be the very last option, not the first."
He nodded at me respectfully, though I knew he didn't appreciate my words. It was part of being a princess, people felt less able of expressing themselves sincerely, especially if they knew (or at least suspected) their opinions to be against me. Behind him I could see the others, the agents and the so-called Avengers, watching me with mixed feelings, a mixture that, in almost everyone included a high amount of disbelief, some doubt and even surprise.
"You're the one who called on the shield..." Natasha breathed out. "The one that saved us."
"I conjured a shield to protect my Father." I answered, a bit more stiffly than entirely necessary, though the attitude still smarted. "That others benefited from my actions was fortunate."
"How did you do that?" Stark wanted to know.
"Magic." I said, with a rather blasé shrug of my shoulders. "It's a gift I have. I don't have a lot of power, but can do a few things."
"How did we not know this?" Ross wanted to know.
"But you did." I said serenely. "To a point at least. Like my brother and sister, I signed the Accords. Under the fourth amendment."
"Fourth Amendment?" Rogers and Wilson asked, practically in unison.
I couldn't help my own disbelief at them.
"Did you even read the Accords?" I blurted out at them. "Before pushing them aside, I mean." Perhaps not the most diplomatic way to express myself, but I took offense to the way they (he especially) refused to even try to work with us, we'd tried so hard with those Accords... "The fourth amendment... I like to call it the guardian clause. My brother and sister, just like Dr. Stark" I knew how much he hated being called Mr. Stark, like his father, but it didn't feel right to just call him Tony. "Miss Romanoff, and others, have signed the Accords as warriors. They're willing to fight to protect the people, to protect our world. I have signed as a guardian. It means that if I have to, I will fight, but it's not my priority, or even really my desire to do so. My wish is mainly to keep others safe, to help them when I can. That's what I use my gifts for. I've done it before, in Sokovia... You may or may not know this, but my mom is Ekaterine Kasun, she created the Kasun Foundation to do exactly that, help."
"The Wakandans in Lagos..." Sam blurted out in surprise.
"Mom was there, leading the group." I answered the unasked question. "She was badly hurt, just woke up earlier today."
It was true. The news had reached us just before our arrival to Berlin.
Nothing more was said then, and somehow we all found ourselves in the same conference room (though I had a feeling it wasn't supposed to be that way, not originally), from where we could watch the video-feed of what was going on in the detention level, with the Winter Soldier...
Not much happened at first, I half-heard Rogers and Stark arguing, something was really wrong on that front. Stark was trying so hard, it was almost painful to see (and to sense), yet Rogers... he was like a wall, unwilling to see the truth right before his eyes, unwilling to understand, to compromise. He was definitely going to make things harder than they had to be.
I saw a man arrive to the containment area, he was there to evaluate Barnes' condition, mentally, at least. I couldn't pay much attention to them though, as the exchange between Miss Carter, Stark and Wilson kept pulling my attention, and I knew it wasn't only mine, the others were listening to them carefully as well. Didn't get the chance to ask exactly what was going on, as right then the lights went off, and not just in our room, but in the whole building.
Ross, Stark (who'd left at some point after his argument with Rogers), Romanoff and many other people were in the next room (visible to us through a glass wall). Talking loudly and practically above one another, trying to find out what exactly had gone wrong, and fix it. None of them were getting anywhere.
Rogers and Wilson were gone almost before Carter gave them the signal (and I had no idea what to think about a woman in her position who was so evidently compromised, and in favor of one who'd showed he was so unwilling to see the big picture...). Stark was gone but seconds later, and then so were Carter, Romanoff, and even T'Challa and Kendra.
I didn't run, instead I turned to look at Father in silence, he knew what I was thinking. For a few seconds he didn't say a word, instead he approached me, held me by the back of the neck, lightly tracing the tattoo we both knew was there, then he kissed my brow.
"Go." He whispered practically against my skin. "Stop this madness before it gets worse."
I gave a single step back, bowing my head in thanks to his blessing, then jumped in place, disappearing from the room before my feet touched the ground again.
It took me a couple of seconds (and three steps sideways in quick succession) to get my footing. Not surprising considering that I wasn't really seeing where I was going as I teleported, relying entirely on visualizing what had last been on a screen on the next room before calling on my (Loki's) magic to get me there. Shadow-walking would have been safer, but it was also slower when it came to such relatively short distances; as I needed to basically walk there, instead of effectively jumping through the fabric of space (it was insane, and I wasn't sure that I got all the theory behind the different methods of transportation right, I just knew what I could do and which techniques were best in certain circumstances; the rest were just details).
I spun around then, the man who was supposed to be the UN assigned psychiatrist had just said a couple of words in Russian that a corner of my mind whispered meant 'Longing' and 'Rusted', which made no sense whatsoever; then again, Barnes near hysterical reaction to them made even less sense. Both of them had frozen the moment I appeared in the room, though.
"Who are you?!" The 'psychiatrist' demanded sharply.
There was something very wrong with him. A darkness in his heart, formed by terrible grief and more hate and rage than I'd ever sensed in anyone else. I didn't need to be cognitive to deduce he wasn't the UN psychiatrist.
"Lady Silbhé, princess of Wakanda." I announced flippantly, sliding a foot back as I got into a defensive stance, ready for a fight. "Who are you anyway? Because something tells me you're not Dr. Theo Broussard."
"I am not." The man admitted, holding tightly onto a strange notebook with a red cover that was in his hand. "This isn't your business, princess. You shouldn't have gotten involved."
"You know, your face looks somewhat familiar." I commented, following a hunch. "I bet that with the right clothes you would look a lot like a certain someone we both know. I mean, put on a cap and a hoodie, it'd be easy enough!"
He almost flinched backwards, that was all the answer I needed.
"It would seem you're a bit too clever for your own good, your highness." He almost growled at me, he obviously didn't like that I was pulling at his plans.
"Been told that before." I deadpanned.
I wasn't stupid. I knew he was still dangerous, but I was just buying time. Got just enough, as the door flew open right then (no one seemed to notice that someone had given them a hand in getting it open so fast, not even Rogers). The man (whom I'd eventually learn was called Halmut Zemo, Sokovian, seeking to destroy the Avengers in revenge for the loss of his family) turned immediately, probably looking to fight back. I acted instantly, practically jumping at him, taking advantage of his distraction with the newcomers to rip the red book off his hands, before slipping it into those of my love, who sent it into a subspace pocket, where it would be safe, at least for the time being.
Zemo spun back towards me instantly, throwing a punch at my face. I crossed my arms before my face, blocking him. A moment later Rogers was pulling him back before effectively throwing him against the nearest wall.
"Who are you?" The Captain demanded, a hint of desperation in both his aura and his voice. "What do you want?"
"To see an empire fall." Zemo replied.
I knew it then, he was living-dead. His body was alive, even his soul was still there, but his heart wasn't really in it. Only his terrible plans, his perverse goal kept him going; without that he had nothing, he was nothing. He refused to accept that he'd lost, though a part of him knew it. Whatever it was he intended to do with those words he'd been pronouncing when I arrived... it was too late for that plan. And without that he'd nothing.
Wilson took over then. Taking Zemo and pulling him away, directing him straight to Miss Carter and the team gathering just outside the containment area. Most people were actually looking at me, obviously more than a little shocked at my presence.
"How did you get in here?" Romanoff asked, doing a double take as she arrived and her eyes eventually landed on me too.
"Magic." I deadpanned.
"Bucky!" Rogers cried out right then.
He rushed to his friends, and none of us missed the way he began tracing the containment unit. He wanted to get his friend out. He really understood nothing of what was going on!
"You shouldn't be here..." The Captain was muttering. "You're innocent!"
"Don't be stupid Steve!" Surprisingly enough, it was Barnes himself who called the blonde on his idiocy. "You have no idea what almost happened. What that man wanted to do..."
"What happened?" Agent Carter asked, honestly interested.
"He wanted to activate me." Barnes hissed. "He knew the words. He wanted to make me into Him, into the Winter Soldier..."
"How the hell did he know how to do that?" Romanoff demanded.
"Oh, I don't know, perhaps it has something to do with someone's stupid decision to dump everything SHIELD and HYDRA related straight into the web without caring who ended affected, or even dead in the process." Kendra said right then in her most contemptuous tone.
Romanoff and Rogers really flinched at that one, something told me my sister wasn't the first to call them off regarding that particular foolish choice.
"There's one thing I want to know." Stark stated, calculating. "How exactly did whatshisname get in here in the first place?"
That question certainly threw everyone into a tizzy... we were going to have a very long day yet.
xXx
I was right, of course. Hours later people were still arguing. Rogers was still refusing to sign the Accords, refusing to even read them. Wilson had actually taken my comments seriously, enough to read the damn document, and after being reassured that he'd get the chance to discuss some points he didn't fully agree on (something that was even written down and signed so he knew we wouldn't be ignoring his misgivings), he signed; Rogers seemed particularly put out by that. Maximoff hadn't yet made up her mind; but we all knew the matter of her citizenship was far more urgent than her signing or not the Accords. I also knew that once the Avengers had signed, the document would be offered to the other well-known teams: like the Fantastic Four (even though they were mostly retired and had been for years) and the X-Men, and then it'd be up to the lesser known heroes (like Spider-Man, Daredevil, and whoever else might be out there) to join. The Avengers were supposed to be the beginning, the example that it was alright to sign... but that would be hard to prove if someone as public as Captain America kept refusing to sign. I honestly had no idea what to say to him anymore, wasn't sure anyone did.
That particular argument was eventually pushed aside, at least for the time being. As they all began discussing how Zemo had gotten into the building, nevermind the containment room. All the workers had been rounded up and were being questioned to find out where things had failed, but there were no answers yet. One good thing came out, though. Everett Ross had somehow been convinced that Barnes wasn't responsible for the bombing, and that he was willing to stay put until the task force got everyone behind it; so he'd been lead to a more comfortable office, rather than a cell. There was a lot to discuss yet regarding the Winter Soldier's crimes, but there would be time for that, it just wasn't the priority in that moment.
Things got more stressful when the existence of other Winter Soldiers was revealed. Everett Ross seemed to be about to have a heart-attack, and I could sense Secretary Ross making plans to himself, the kind of plans I knew would end in nothing good. I knew it would only put me even more in the spotlight, but I just couldn't keep quiet.
"Unless you want a certain Secretary we both know, and I'm sure neither of us likes, to end up with his own private death-squad I suggest you get a team to collect those frozen Soldiers, and you do it stat, Mr. Ross." I told him quietly.
"You really think he'd do that?" He asked, though I could tell he didn't exactly doubt me.
"From what I've found out about him it wouldn't even be the first time he tried it." I shrugged. "Though I have a feeling this could go much, much worse."
Ross nodded at me, acknowledging the hint, before going straight to arrange a team. Carter and War Machine were off soon enough, with a special team, with strict instructions to retrieve the Winter Soldiers, and make sure they didn't wake them up. If that proved to be impossible the soldiers were to be killed and the facility taken down. I didn't quite agree with the rather careless attitude they had regarding the lives of those Soldiers, but kept the comments to myself. It wasn't something I could get involved in, I had to choose my battles. And I'd chosen one.
No one quite understood why I wanted to go in to see Barnes. Rogers actually had the gall to get all defensive. Like I was some assassin, or a Hydra sleeper.
"With all due respect, Mr. Rogers." The man so did not deserve to be called a Captain, he most certainly wasn't acting like one. "I'm not asking you. Whether I meet Mr. Barnes or not, it's not up to you. You're not his minder, or in charge of this facility. The latter which is the reason why I'm asking Mr. Ross."
"Why do you wish to see him?" Ross, for the first time since meeting me, sounded respectful, he was also evidently curious.
"I've explained before that I have magic, I can do a few things." I tried to explain, though not quite sure how to do it. "I use my powers to help people... there's one thing I can do that I think might help Mr. Barnes. I cannot explain it beyond saying that I sing, and when I do, my voice carries power. I've done it before, to bring relief, to offer comfort... I wish to grant him some peace, especially knowing what Mr. Zemo intended."
"Are you sure this will not hurt him?" Ross wanted to be sure.
"It's not a power that can be used that way." I assured him. "It might help him, or it might not do anything at all, but it certainly won't hurt him."
"Very well." Ross nodded eventually. "But the guards will stay."
"Of course." I agreed immediately.
It was obvious Rogers still didn't like it, but we ignored him.
Barnes didn't even raise his head, when I entered the office where he remained. Not until I sat before him, on the opposite side of the table. The office had a glass-wall, one way glass, and I knew the guards, Ross, and perhaps even Rogers, were looking at us from there, but I paid them no mind, I wasn't there for them.
"Good afternoon, Mr. Barnes." I greeted him kindly.
"Your voice sounds different." He commented out of the blue. "Your accent has changed."
I offered him a bottle of water I was carrying and he took it gratefully. Though he didn't look away from me, probably waiting for an answer.
"I hadn't noticed." I admitted calmly. "I know over a dozen languages, began learning them young enough that I don't have much of an accent with any. Then in college, as I learned about Linguistics and History and many other interesting things, I learned the importance of accents, the way they help you belong... it became normal for me to adopt an accent when I feel it's right. Earlier you heard me talking with a Wakandan accent, I do that when I'm trying to show I belong there, though it's not always a conscious choice on my part. Right now I have no especial wish to belong anywhere, hence no accent."
"Interesting." He nodded. "Had never seen it that way, though I suppose it makes sense. Explains how it is that the Soldier always spoke with a Russian accent, regardless of what language he spoke, while mine is more American..."
"That is, indeed, an interesting way of seeing things." I agreed.
I was concerned about the way he referred to himself in the third person; wasn't sure if it was a full personality disassociation, or if it was a defensive technique, an attempt to distance himself from the Winter Soldier's crimes.
"Why are you here, princess?" He asked me, evenly.
"I want to try and help you, Mr. Barnes." I told him honestly.
"You a shrink too?" He practically scoffed.
"Not at all." I shook my head. "Like I mentioned before, I studied Linguistics and History in university, I also have a thing for languages... I only took the necessary credits in psychology, and wasn't very good at it anyway." I shrugged. "I've found that what the so-called experts believe about the mind, doesn't always fit with what some people might actually be like. After all, people are a lot more complex than books could ever comprehensively explain." I shook my head, that so wasn't the point. "No. You've heard me say I have magic. I can do a few things with it. Like yesterday in Vienna, where I managed to conjure a shield that deflected most of the explosion Zemo caused, probably saving a few lives. I used that same magic to get into the containment area when everyone else was having trouble doing the same."
"What's the point of all this?" He interrupted me, obviously not liking my speech.
"There's one other thing I can do with my magic." Well, there were a few others, but one that actually mattered in that moment. "I sing..."
"What? You want to sing me a lullaby?" He scoffed.
"I doubt lullabies are your kind, perhaps something heavier." I quipped, then got serious again. "Magic is in me, in all of me. That includes my voice. When I sing... things happen. Sometimes I can help people find peace, sometimes I can help them understand themselves, or others. I cannot fully control how things go every given time, but I've found it can help, if people are willing to really listen to me. Would you be willing to listen to me Mr. Barnes?"
"Do you really think you can help?" He sounded disbelieving, yet there was a hint of hope, so very small, yet so bright...
"I think I can try." I didn't want to offer any guarantees. "Will you let me try?"
He shrugged. I could tell he didn't want to believe me, not because he thought there was anything wrong, but so much had worked against him, so many things had gone wrong... he was probably afraid to get his hopes up. I understood that.
I didn't insist, instead I simply extended my arms over the table, palms up, offering them to him, waiting for him to make his choice. It took almost a full minute, but eventually he decided to take the chance, putting his hands in mine. It felt like someone pressing a live-wire into my skin. The shock so great I had to make use of all my training not to pull back, to even wince. I didn't know if he'd felt it too, but I held onto him, to keep him from pulling back himself. It took a couple of seconds or so for the shock to clear, and then the energy began flowing, the emotions...
Being the reincarnation of a Ljósálfar meant that I was an Empath, I could always pick up on other's feelings (among other things) touch heightened it, and it also allowed me to take the energy of the other person, to channel it... so I just closed my eyes, let go, and began singing:
"The child without a name grew up to be the hand
To watch you, to shield you or kill on demand
The choice he'd made he could not comprehend
His blood a grim secret they had to command"
"He's torn between his honor and the true love of his life
He prayed for both but was denied"
"So many dreams were broken and so much was sacrificed
Was it worth the ones we loved and had to leave behind?
So many years have passed, who are the noble and the wise?
Will all our sins be justified?"
There was so much power in my voice as I sang, more than I'd been expecting, and I knew it was because of the strength James Barnes possessed. I'd been honest, when saying I'd done such things before, though never so directly (with a single person) and especially not with someone that had the kind of powers Barnes possessed (and with that I meant more than his being a super soldier). Even as I sang I got glimpses into his life, first as the kid in Brooklyn, then as a soldier, as a Howling Commando, and finally after that fateful fall and what followed, his service (forced, tortured) to Hydra. I couldn't begin to understand how a man, any man, could survive so much.
"The curse of his powers tormented his life
Obeying the crown was a sinister price
His soul was tortured by love and by pain
He surely would flee but the oath made him stay"
"He's torn between his honor and the true love of his life
He prayed for both but was denied"
"So many dreams were broken and so much was sacrificed
Was it worth the ones we loved and had to leave behind?
So many years have passed, who are the noble and the wise?
Will all our sins be justified?"
Tears were falling from my eyes and running down my face, I knew it but I didn't mind them. I'd never been the kind to regret my own feelings, or try to hide them (it was perhaps part of being empathetic, to be enough in touch with emotions, my own and other's to have no fear of them). The song I was singing was strong, full of so many things, I wondered if everyone else could pick up all the nuances in the words, even in the way my voice changed through it. And then... and then something happened that I could have never expected, I was still the one singing outwardly, but to my ears... in my head and my heart, it was another voice saying the words, a voice I knew very well, that of my beloved daughter, the light of my life (and her Ada's), my dearest Helena...
"Please forgive me for the sorrow, for leaving you in fear
For the dreams we had to silence, that's all they'll ever be
Still I'll be the hand that serves you
Though you'll not see that it is me"
I saw it inside my head, as clearly as I was still seeing James Barnes sitting before me: a younger, less scarred (not physically, but in ways that counted just as much) James, laying on a cot in the middle of a place that looked like a cross of a lab and a bunker, strapped down... and then Helena strode in, dressed in black, scars clear on her porcelain skin; she spoke to James, straight to his soul. She laid out his situation, and offered him a choice: the end of his suffering, death and peace on the Other Side; or life, a life that would be full of trials, of hardships, of pain, and yet also of brotherhood, of happiness, of love. I need not seen the end of that exchange to know his choice. James Barnes was so strong, a true warrior... and he deserved to find peace in life. I had no idea how, but I promised myself in that moment that I'd find a way to give him that peace, somehow...
"So many dreams were broken and so much was sacrificed
Was it worth the ones we loved and had to leave behind?
So many years have passed, who are the noble and the wise?
Will all our sins be justified?"
I didn't know it in that moment, but my song effected more than just James. To him it did give him peace, more than anyone could have ever expected (after a very controversial test in strongly controlled circumstances we'd discover that somehow I'd managed to erase the conditioning, the way a certain list of words were used to control him). But it went further, because somehow Rogers began to understand that James Barnes wasn't Bucky, and never would be again, but that didn't mean they weren't still friends; Everett Ross began to believe that things were more complex that they seem, that even if the Winter Soldier might have killed dozens of people, that did not mean that James Barnes should have to pay for crimes he did not choose to commit (and the same probably applied to the other Soldiers as well).
Even when I found out about all of that I had no idea how any of that was possible. I'd never fully understand how my magic worked when I was singing, other than knowing that my voice carried power, and that I could use that power to help others. I was happy I managed that though, it was enough for me (even if I never understood the how, in the end that didn't matter much, certainly not as much as the fact that it had really worked).
xXx
I took a short cat-nap. Not something I planned, exactly. I just happened to tire more than I expected with a single song. I woke up later in the evening, to find people working together more than I had expected it to be possible just hours earlier.
"You're a miracle worker, usisi omncinci (little sister)." T'Challa commented with a little grin.
"But all I did was sing!" I tried to explain. I hadn't done that much!
"A song everyone in the building has heard by now... and many people outside it as well." He commented with an almost mischievous grin.
"What?!" I certainly wasn't expecting that one.
"You're a youtube sensation." Kendra commented flippantly.
I had no idea what to say to that. I'd never planned on something like that and yet, and yet it was helping. James was out of the office, people were seeing him and not running terrified, or trying to subdue him. Even Rogers seemed to have calmed down some. He still refused to sign the Accords, but according to Stark he was willing to listen to us, to discuss things before doing something drastic. Or he would once he'd actually finished reading the document, and the list of amendments we were already working on.
Ross approached us to quietly let us know that his team had made it to Siberia, had found four men and one woman, all in cryo. They were being transported to a top-secret base where they expected to be able to work with Barnes in hopes of waking them up and helping. James had already accepted and when I was asked to be around and perhaps do for them what I'd done for Barnes I could only agree. It was what I always wanted to do after all: help others. Before the end of the day I'd given the man my number and I was officially registered as a 'consultant' with the UN and the people in charge of the Accords.
We also learned that Everett Ross was being promoted, he'd be taking over from Secretary Ross (who actually was in no way related to him) as the man in charge of the Accords, while the Secretary was being sent back to America, where he'd probably be facing court-martial. It would seem that the group that had gone to Siberia to retrieve the soldiers had met with a black ops team sent by the Secretary, intent on 'collecting' the frozen men and woman. They'd also learned about the existence of an underwater prison called the Raft, which Secretary Ross had outfitted to 'contain' super-humans (superheroes), something that was nowhere in the Accords, and he had no authority to do. Yeah, he was definitely not in a good place. Stark was also taking advantage of the opportunity to bring up everything he'd ever gotten on the man, he was going down.
Finally the time came for us to leave the building. Arrangements had been made for rooms in a nearby hotel, we'd be leaving for Wakanda in the morning. I could feel Loki's eagerness almost in every cell of my body. It was probably what distracted me, made it so I failed to notice the danger. Then again, no one really did (it had been a long day, after all).
We all heard the shot before either of us understood what had happened, and I was falling before I truly understood that I'd just been shot, in the back...
"SILBHÉ?!" Several voices screamed at the same time.
The shock was big enough that my love actually manifested in the real world and didn't notice until my brother placed a hand on his arm. Thankfully T'Challa, despite never having seen him before, somehow knew who he was, he didn't try to push my love away (which wouldn't have gone well, at all). And not only that, but when someone made a comment about him he said it was my husband: Luka Hvedrungr, recently arrived from his own work, and acted like everyone should have been expecting him. Like it was perfectly normal for him to be there despite the fact that no one had seen him before; the people around couldn't help but react to that, and suddenly everyone was acting like his sudden arrival was perfectly normal.
There was a bit of a scuffle, I could hear it but couldn't really see, I was on the ground, fighting to breathe through the shock, the panic and even the pain (though, as my mind began clearing I realized that there was a lot less of that last one than a bullet to the back warranted). When it was all over Kendra told me that it was actually James Barnes who found the shooter (being a sniper himself it was probably to be expected) he took the man down before another bullet could be fired and practically dragged him to where security had gathered: it was none other than (Former) Secretary of State: Thaddeus Ross...
"I will kill him!" T'Challa practically roared.
"You will not." Kendra stopped him with obvious effort.
"He will face justice, you can be sure of that." Stark tried to pacify him.
By the hisses coming from the Dora Milaje, and the tension in Father I knew they agreed more with T'Challa than they did with Stark and Kendra. I knew I had to do something. By that point I had finally calmed down enough to process what had happened, and a few very important details: I wasn't dying, I wasn't bleeding: the bullet hadn't actually pierced me.
"Help me up." I called, in a voice that allowed for no questions.
Kendra and T'Challa were surprised, though my love hurried to do what I wanted.
It took several seconds, but soon enough I was standing, my back was stinging something fierce, and I was sure I'd be feeling it for a while, but that was alright, I'd deal.
"Silbhé?!" Everyone looked at me, shocked, even my own brother.
"You forget what it is I'm wearing, ubhuti omkhulu (big brother)." I chastised him gently.
I could tell the moment they understood it. All Wakandans at least. Stark and the others were still oblivious, but at least the ones who really mattered understood it then. The attire I was wearing that day, it wasn't just pretty, it was also safe, because the under-layer, the gray-bodysuit, was lined with a vibranium mesh. It wasn't quite as strong as the one in the Black Panther suit, or even in the Hawkgirl battle-attire; I had still felt the impact, I was sure I had a big bruise, and would have it for a little while, but I was alive, and that was good enough.
I wasn't actually thinking on what I was doing when I approached the spot where a group of CIA agents were restraining Thaddeus Ross; but the moment he laid eyes on me, the moment he realized I was standing there, strong and whole, he completely lost it. I didn't quite pay attention to his tirade but he certainly confessed to a great many crimes, more than any of us had been able to find proof about), he also began yelling about his plans, for an army under his control (not America's, his own). It would certainly be more than enough to send him to prison (a legal one) for a very, very long time.
"I am glad to see you well, princess." Everett Ross said with a respectful bow of the head.
"I'm a bit sore, but nothing life-threatening." I admitted, careful as I move.
"It is perhaps fortunate that the one Ross chose to target was so well-protected." Wilson commented, only to backtrack a second later at the growls from my brother and the Dora Milaje. "Not that I'm saying she deserved it! But at least she's alive, will be alright. None of us would have been as lucky."
He was actually right. While my brother's and sister's armor was better, they only wore those when they fought. They'd taken it off after arriving to Berlin. I was the only one wearing armor of any kind in that moment so yes, it was probably lucky that I was the one targeted first. Really, if he knew I was the one to tell Everett of his plans that would explain his hate, but I wasn't the only one he'd reason to despise, at the very least Stark, Rogers and Barnes should have been on that list as well... Stark in particular should have been higher. I probably would never know why he'd chosen to shoot at me first, but a part of me might even be thankful that he had, we'd all survived and he was caught, what was there not to be thankful for?
xXx
My love and I consummated our bond that night. It probably wasn't the best of times, with the rest of my family sleeping in rooms across the hall, the Doras arranged through the rest of the floor, but what had begun as a massage to help erase the soreness had soon turned into making out, and from there it was hard to stop; particularly because neither of us wanted to stop. It wasn't even about the sex, not really (not that it was bad, but it went beyond physical pleasure); it was finishing what we'd begun the day we pronounced the Ancient Vows, when our souls met in the edge of Helheim. It was feeling secure in our bond, in the knowledge that, no matter what happened, we'd be connected. The journal was good, but all along we'd been craving more (I believed we craved what we'd had before, the full bond we knew we could share).
The next morning I slipped into a beautiful off-white sleeveless, floor-length dress (it looked either ice-blue or the palest lilac, depending how the light hit it); my hair was down, the shoes were the same from the day before, and as a finishing touch I was wearing a set of jewelry that my love told me was a wedding present from his mother, it consisted of a necklace, earrings and diadem. I wore no bracelets, allowing the tattoos on my right wrist and the base of my left ring-finger to be visible. Only the bird remained hidden by my hair.
What I most certainly wasn't expecting, was the first thing I heard Father say when I joined the rest of my family for breakfast.
"Tell your match I want to see him." He stated calmly.
I stared at him dumb-founded for several seconds, not quite knowing what to say. Thankfully I need not say anything in the end, I just felt the warmth through my dress the moment my beloved stepped out of the shadows and right behind me.
"Your Majesty..." My love murmured with a respectful vow
He probably could have used Wakandan, taking the knowledge from me through our bond, but he respected Father too much to do that. Something unexpected occurred to me right then; the fact that, in this life, I had a father Loki would have to answer to, such hadn't been the case in my previous life. With my father dead before I was even born, and my mother before I turned six; Erynion, the closest thing I'd ever had to a brother... he sometimes took his duty too seriously, and as much as I knew he cared he would have never allowed himself to be presumptuous enough to make the demands of my beloved the way a true family member would.
It took me a few seconds to realize that neither would Father... but he did not need to. One look was enough to make my match react:
"I know we... I have probably gone about this the wrong way." He began, talking softly but full of conviction. "I dare not ask for your permission, as I wouldn't want to diminish m... N... S... your daughter's own choices, of which I'm delighted to be one. So instead I say this: I would be honored if you gave us your blessing."
"Wise words..." Father nodded in agreement, pondering for a moment before adding. "If I do give my blessing, what will you do with it?"
I didn't quite understand what he meant by that, but my Maverick did.
"Nightingale and I are one, a match, as far as magic and our souls are concerned." He said, a bit bluntly. "But I'd be very happy to make that official, by this world, and by any other."
"I approve." Father nodded, smiling genuinely. "Though I believe that statement implies a question, one I should not be the one to answer."
"Very true, your Majesty." Loki nodded, smiling wide before turning towards me.
The moment he dropped on one knee, the breath caught in my throat.
"Nightingale, A'maelamin (My beloved)... I've loved you for as long as I can remember, in this life, and quite probably in others as well." He stated in a very dramatic, and obviously heartfelt tone of voice. "I wish for nothing more than to walk through life, this one, and however many others we might have, with you by my side. Will you do me the honor of being my wife?"
"Of course." The words were coming out of my mouth before I could even think about it. "I've been by your side, and by your side I'll remain, in this life and any other we might be blessed enough to share..."
I threw myself into his arms then and kissed him. Controlling myself just enough not to give my Father a heart-attack...
It was probably a good thing we were taking breakfast in a private room, as I didn't even want to think what would happen if others had been witnesses to that particular exchange. Not that I thought there was anything wrong with it, but just the day before we'd told Ross the two of us were married... it would have been hard to explain why then 'Luka' had just proposed.
xXx
We dropped by the Joint Counter Terrorist Center once more before leaving for Wakanda (and that had been yet another shock, when T'Challa informed us that he'd gotten a message from the Panther God in his sleep; my match was being allowed entrance into Wakanda, and if he passed the trials to gain citizenship then he could stay, make a life there, as had I; of course my Maverick agreed to it all right away, there was no doubt in either of our minds that he would pass). Mr. Ross had taken his new post already, with Miss Carter as her second in command. The first thing in their to-do-list had been dealing with Zemo who had told them he wouldn't be answering any questions at all until he got to talk to me.
Of course my family didn't like it. They were prickly enough already that I wasn't wearing the body-armor anymore. But at first we were supposed to be heading home, and even when there was the change of plans, I knew it would be a bad idea for me to change, that we'd be sending the wrong kind of message to the people in the CIA and the UN, that we didn't trust them. My match had assured them all he wouldn't be leaving my side all day, he'd make sure nothing harmful came anywhere close to me.
So, after some arguing (we all were so terribly stubborn... it didn't make thing easy), it was eventually decided that I'd go into the Containment area to speak to Zemo, and my husband would be going with me. Nareema would stay outside the door (Ayo, Aneka and Okoye were staying with the rest of the family).
I knew there were a lot of eyes on us. While Zemo, Loki and I were the only ones in the room (and he was inside a little box, much like Barnes had been the day before), one of the walls was one-sided glass, and I had no idea just how many people were watching either from there, or from the command room. Even then, I didn't concern myself with them, they weren't the reason I was there, after all, Zemo was.
"I was told you wanted to talk to me." I said for a start.
I knew better than to show myself to be compassionate; much as it went against a part of my instincts, the part of me that always wanted to take care of people, that felt his pain and almost hurt for him... but I also felt his anger, his rage, and that was enough to remind me to keep my distance, to remind me that the path the man before me had chosen to walk after his tragic loss was one I'd never ever consider.
"Who are you?" He asked, cocking his head to a side.
"I believe I answered that question yesterday." I replied evenly. "My name is Silbhé, adopted daughter of King T'Chaka, youngest princess of Wakanda." I waved a hand at my husband. "And this is my husband, Luka Hvedrungr."
"You weren't here yesterday." Zemo pointed out, looking at my love carefully.
"Not at first, no." My Maverick shrugged with faked carelessness. "Work kept me away from my wife's side longer than I intended. I arrived after most of the events of the day were over."
"Yes, you were shot." He stated, turning back towards me, seemingly dismissing my beloved completely. "I heard."
I could have snorted. Agents were even worse gossipers than a bunch of housewives living in the suburbs of whatever-country. And regarding his treatment of my love, I did not mind, it was actually better if he (if anyone) didn't look too closely.
"Why am I here Mr. Zemo?" I insisted.
"I had the perfect plan, you know?" He commented, he sounded almost flippant, and yet there was an edge of... something, in his voice. Anger? Desperation? "Yes, my plan was perfect... I was going to watch en empire fall!"
"That's what you told Rogers yesterday, when he asked what you wanted." I commented, looking more closely at the choice of words. "You say empire... but you didn't mean a country, did you? No, your anger is at the Avengers. They are your empire, the one you thought you could make fall, to watch it and know it was because of you."
"I had a perfect plan." Zemo insisted. "I had information on all of them... every single one of them. Knew their strengths and weaknesses, every possible angle, all the ways that make them tick. The Accords were just the trigger, the excuse... my plan was perfect, they'd have turned against each other would have destroyed each other. Their empire would have fallen!" He almost snarled then. "And then you appeared. I had nothing on you... He gave me nothing about you!"
"He...?" I arched a brow.
"Don't know his name." Zemo shrugged, showing how unimportant he thought that part was. "He'd the information I needed to get my vengeance, that was all that mattered to me."
I had no doubt that my brother, Ross, possibly even Stark, would be researching that angle, hopefully it'd lead them to the one who'd helped Zemo.
"Well your trigger matters to me." I retorted. "You almost killed my Father!"
"A regretful but necessary loss." He replied, completely unfeeling.
I was furious. Enough to almost answer with: 'Really, is that what your family was?', but in the end my empathy won out, and I chose just to stare at him instead.
"I knew nothing about you." He pressed. "And you ruined my plans!"
"I'm not an Avenger." I reminded him calmly. "And few people outside of Wakanda know about my adoption and my royal status."
"You're not Avenger, yet you kept their empire from falling." Zemo insisted. "Why?! Why would you aid those monsters?!"
"Monsters is such an awful term." I commented softly. "People may do monstrous things, either by accident, by choice, or simply because there was nothing they could do to stop it... and that doesn't mean they themselves are monsters. I understand you lost your family, and that it has brought you great grief. But do you honestly believe that, if they were here, they would be proud of what you have done?"
Zemo let out a wordless roar of rage but I ignored him, I wasn't done talking yet.
"You killed a good man, a man who never hurt anyone, who did nothing wrong, whose only mistake was to be in the very spot where you wished to be in order to put your plan into effect." I went on. "Dr. Broussard had family too, did you know? He had a girlfriend with a son he cared greatly for, a widowed sister, two nieces and one nephew; he even had a mother who still lives. They all now mourn his death, the death of a man you killed, not because he was bad, or even your enemy, but simply because he was in your way. Should they now come after you, wish your death to feel better about the loss of their relative? Thinking that death must be repaid with more death is stupid and pointless. Even if you had succeeded, what then? That wouldn't have brought your family back. Nothing can do that. It's a feat beyond even the most powerful beings. You may yet join them though, in due time. And what do you think they will think of you when you do? Do you think they will be happy that you set out in a quest to avenge them? That you killed good men and women, not even just Dr. Broussard, but people in Vienna that day whom I couldn't shield? Do you think they will like that? Is that what you'd have taught your children, had they lived to grow up and be adults? That it is okay to hurt people just to feel better about yourself? And not even that, because I know for a fact that you feel no satisfaction, even if you had succeeded, it's unlikely you would have felt good about it. Vengeance can bring no peace and no joy, only more sadness, grief and loss."
"You know not what you speak of." Zemo hissed, though I could see tears in the corners of his eyes, could sense the warring emotions in him.
"I know more than you could ever comprehend." I said, offhandedly. "But that's not important. What's important is that you failed, and now you know why. I doubt it will make much difference in the end." I was about to leave, when I just had to go back. "There's just one thing I need to know. If you had won, if the 'empire' as you keep calling the Avengers had fallen, what then? What would you have done? What do you think would have happened then?"
Zemo did not answer. I wasn't sure if it was because he did not dare voice the answer, or if he honestly did not have one. I shrugged, deciding that it probably didn't make a difference in the grand scheme of things.
"You know what your real mistake was, Mr. Zemo?" I asked next. "It wasn't me, not knowing about me or whatever. No, your mistake was seeing the Avengers as an 'empire' in the first place. Empires can fall, that is true; but the Avengers are not something so simple as an Empire, they're a family: by choice, and word, and deed. And families may tear themselves apart from the inside out, but they will always come back together when they are needed. Because in the end the blood of the covenant is, indeed, stronger than the water of the womb, and than any other force in this world, and outside it too."
I wasn't sure he got everything I was saying, probably not; in the end it wasn't my problem. Halmut Zemo wasn't my problem.
I did believe what I'd just said though. The day before things had been really awful with the Avengers. But even as I'd been on my way to talk to the Sokovian I happened to pass by a room where Stark and Rogers stood side by side, a few other Avengers around the room, as they argued with several members of the UN council about the less-than-agreeable things that had happened the day before (like the mess in Bucharest), things that the Accords shouldn't have allowed to happen in the first place. The day before they'd been standing on opposite sides, but in that moment they were back together, a united front, a family... like they were supposed to be.
I knew that moment was just the beginning. We had managed to survive something that could easily have gotten much worse, ended with the Avengers split right down the middle. Thankfully it hadn't come to that, the conflict had been stopped in time and they'd all managed to see the others' point, to talk, to compromise. I chose to believe that after the last three days they'd be coming out stronger, better able to deal with their own differences, less likely to lose it the next time something difficult happened that challenged their view of the world, of each other, or even of themselves...
Truth was, the world needed the Avengers, and the Fantastic Four, and the X-Men, and all the other heroes that existed. Big things were coming. My love hadn't told me much, but I knew that, if he didn't know things for certain, he at least suspected it, probably even the shape those things would take. The chitauri invasion in New York had been the start, but it wasn't the end, not by a long shot. There was a lot more coming, and if we hoped to be able to win the next battle, to potentially win the war, keep our people safe, our world protected... then we'd all need to stand together. All of us.
It went beyond the Avengers, or the Accords, or even Wakanda moving past its former isolation. The whole world would one day need to stand together if we were all to survive, to hopefully thrive... it was a sobering notion, but I knew we could do it. If a group of superhumans (even those not enhanced, like Tony Stark, I believed them to be super in some way), if they could move past what had almost become a war among themselves (a civil war... what a simple, yet terrifying concept), then we could do the same. We had a good example to follow after all.
But all those were things I could worry about later. They wouldn't be easy, no, but there would be time for them.
Later that same day, as I sat in a private jet, the love of my existence at my side, all I needed to think about was how we were on our way home. How I'd see mom again, to kiss her, to embrace her, to reassure myself that she was alright... I'd finally be able to show my beloved my home, the home I so loved: my country, my tribe... and we'd soon be married by human laws, like we were by magic ones. Yes, everything would be just fine.
So, how did you like it? I really hope you did, insane as I think this AU came out...
See ya all in three weeks with the next AU. The focal point next piece is: Stark. (If anyone guesses what's coming exactly I'll give you virtual cookies! Not much, I know, but it's really all I have).