((My first Marvel fic. Yes, it is an OC. I just want to see how it'll go.
Please note: the name is nothing to do with Frozen. Rather, it refers to Elsa the Lioness from Born Free.
To my Star Wars followers: I'm currently working on Pristine Condition and Matched!
Be gentle!
Rating subject to change.))
Stealth.
It is one of the many attributes of a cat. Any cat. Even the Black Panther.
Incidentally, so is curiosity, and T'Challa was not exempt from that either. Unlike any other time his brief snatches of curiosity directed his gaze to the fleeting doorway of Shuri's lab, there was finally something to make him double back.
T'Challa waited in the doorway, assessing and confirming that what he thought he was seeing, was what he was actually seeing. Arms crossed over the black of his tunic, T'Challa kept his distance and his silence amid the constant whirring of one piece of equipment or another. Thus far, Shuri was none the wiser.
Two holographic projections of static images. Facial images. One male. One female. Both familiar, though one slightly more than the other. While they were simply a source of mild intrigue for Wakanda's king, they seemed to be a primary focus for the genius princess.
"I take it Seargent Barnes is trigger-free now?"
Shuri jumped, and in her immediate frenzy of fright, her first instinct was to swipe the projection to the next frame: a brain scan.
"Brother!" The exclamation (to the untrained eye) oozed a (seemingly) genuine enthusiasm for T'Challa's sudden appearance. Pivoting neatly on the ball of her foot, her exuberance carried into her voice, despite its traitorous higher pitch; the only indication of potentially getting caught and knowing it. "You should knock, you know! What if I was-?"
"What are you doing, Shuri?" T'Challa's head inclined, his eyes narrowed and his tone rippled with suspicion; Shuri did not buckle as the king advanced on the projection.
"Just checking on the White Wolf's latest scan!" She chirped with conviction, going through the motions by enlarging certain parts and running the appropriate program with little more than a motion of her hand. "He continues to respond well to the treatment. No violent impulses, his memory function remains strong…"
For a moment, it seemed Shuri had talked her way clear, convinced her brother that her agenda was as she stated. T'Challa decided to let her believe it for a few seconds longer; what's more, approaching the projection and examining it in the same fashion Shuri had, immersing himself in it.
"You and I both know that White Wolf is little more than a nickname-"
She nodded along, relieved and pleased that her ruse had succeeded while he appeared to scrutinize the projection. Until he swiped to the previous frame, to the motionless twosome that caused the princess' lips folded into a thin line at the realization: Caught.
"So, I fail to see what a veterinarian can do for him."
"He was here yesterday!" Shuri protested, ruse abandoned. Side by side, the pair of static faces from the official Wakandan database stared back at them, together but separate. "He was just so… Lonely!" Truly, her heart wrenched to recall it, how his answers had been hollow and distant during the scan, how his mood had been at a pitying low.
"Shuri. We still do not know if he is stable-"
"You doubt me, brother?!" A nerve touched, and rightly so when Shuri's brilliant brain had set itself one task since Bucky Barnes' arrival: Ridding him of Hydra's programming.
"Never." He replied evenly and firmly but without a trace of apology. "But even if he is, you should not be meddling."
"Not meddling." Shuri countered dismissively, having recovered from her offence and replaced it with smugness instead. "Matchmaking. A gentle nudge."
It was T'Challa's turn to purse his lips as Shuri pottered from the projection and back to her work bench to upload something else to the projection: a schedule.
"And it just so happens, brother, that a new stop has been added to Doctor Kincaid's rounds for tomorrow. Routine examinations, but vital all the same when animals have travelled quite a distance to a new farm, wouldn't you agree?"
"And what does Elsa make of this?" T'Challa was right to be dubious, keeping his arms folded over his chest in obvious scrutiny of his sister's ploy.
"She is most enthusiastic!" Shuri's bubbly response only deepened T'Challa's dread as one hand rose to hopelessly cradle his cheek; once something got into her incredible mind, there was no budging it.
"I…see."
"Of course, it is only courteous!" Shuri's beat of a pause matched the dreading beat in T'Challa's chest; why did he feel like she was purposely leaving something out? "I called her to personally inform her of the addition to her route!" There it was, prompting T'Challa's sceptical lean forward and his fingers steepled just beneath his nose in anticipation of an answer he wasn't sure he wanted.
"So, she knows nothing."
"She knows of the White Wolf." Shuri went on casually, flicking through the programs for something to do while her brother resignedly occupied himself with live security feeds from the palace and its grounds. "She knows she is assessing the stock of a new farm south of the palace. He knows a veterinarian is coming to ensure his stock are in good condition." Cue Shuri's coy half-turn with the glint of mischief in her eyes; T'Challa did all he could not to roll his. "Beyond that, the element of surprise will strike them together."
Was there harm to it? T'Challa couldn't decide. Would it be so terrible for such a tortured soul like the White Wolf, the Winter Soldier, to find some scarce bit of companionship? More, if Shuri had anything to do with it? His stay was, after all, indefinite, why not make it enjoyable? Or bearable, at least? And Elsa… She tended to keep to herself; her sociality extending only to wherever her work sent her. Maybe they were just the right level of odd to be compatible; loneliness can be strange like that.
But just in case…
"I am staying out of it, Shuri." T'Challa declared, hands tossed in defeat above his shoulders as he made for the door; not that his dissatisfaction would deter Shuri. "If it goes wrong, I want nothing to do with it."
"Well…" Shuri spoke only to herself, now that Wakanda's capable ruler had left the conversation and the lab. The floating faces remained behind her, a reminder of what she must do in a bid to inject a shot of happiness into two stranger's lives. Swift, adept movements of her fingertips (their agility perfected with practice and time) added more to another frame: Coordinates. "I think… The White Wolf has been lone for too long." One final tap into thin air punctuated and finalized the sent message; no going back now. T'Challa was right when he figured his disapproval meant nothing; not when Shuri stood back, watched and waited, until the message was confirmed as being sent, accepted and seen. The little dots of an impending reply practically had her bouncing on the balls of her feet, the blossom of fluttering excitement almost tangible.
"It is time he met the Lioness."