The excitement for what's to come is killing me.
Chapter 192: Change of Setting
Wakanda's Palace - 13:51 PM
"Imanu, your schedule has been cleared for the next two days," T'Challa says as he approaches him and Iqadi in the library.
"How come?" Imanu asks. Ever since the accident in the Mound, he was in charge of restoring it to its previous state of operations with added features to prevent the events that occurred before. It's odd that King T'Challa would pull him away since they're not even close to finishing.
"You'll join me on some diplomatic business."
Imanu's mouth dries since it's an order so vague that it makes him skeptical. He glances at Iqadi beside him and she's looking at her father oddly. She doesn't look concerned about the lack of details but more so that he was offered to go. Offered, as if it was a question. Yet ordered at the same time. Imanu doesn't know what they're doing or where they're going since it doesn't sound like it's happening in a palace conference room. It's even stranger that King T'Challa is stepping away for a moment.
"Father," Iqadi says, standing to face him, "Imanu is helping out in the Mound. Surely, I shall accompany you instead."
"No, darling," T'Challa states, "you'll stay with your Mother and I won't argue it. We'll halt operations in the Mound till we return. Imanu, we'll leave in the morning."
"Yes," Imanu says since he doesn't have a choice in the matter.
-o-
"He's probably going to kill you somewhere and bury your body," Kili whispers as she follows him through the palace.
It's early in the morning and he was on his way to meet King T'Challa at the landing dock near the palace. He already said goodbye to Iqadi who still wasn't worried about the mysterious diplomatic trip. She just gave him a quick kiss and wished for him to be back soon. He wishes the same thing. Meanwhile, Kili was already awake for school. Her goodbye to him consisted of wild conspiracies about the diplomatic trip to taunt him, especially since this was the one trip she didn't ask to accompany.
"He won't…" Imanu responds with his voice trailing.
"You don't sound so sure," Kili responds.
"I'm 5% sure."
"You did destroy the mines."
"Did not and you know that." He ignores her grin because she purposely said that to get a rise from him. "Besides, he gave me his blessing."
Kili laughs. "Eight years later. Either way, I asked King T'Challa to bring me back something in case you don't make it."
"You didn't ask him to bring me back?"
"Ew, why would I do that?"
-o-
San Francisco - 12:22 PM
"SHIELD, open up!" Merida yells as she pounds her fist on an apartment door.
She takes a step back and waits, seeing nosy neighbours poke their heads out. Merida gives a friendly smile and wave just in time to see a petrified Blake Wilde open the door. She keeps her conniving smile which doesn't calm him down. Instead, he waves off all his neighbours as he pulls her inside and closes the door behind him, locking it.
"Great," Blake states, "now my neighbours think I'm a criminal."
Merida laughs. "I've always wanted to do that."
"I'd give my landlord your contact info if you kicked my door down."
"Nah, I've crossed that off already."
Blake smiles, exasperated. "So, Girlfriend, I wasn't expecting to see you so soon. I'd ask how you got my address but your entrance doesn't require that question anymore. If I knew you were coming-" he cuts himself off to open an arm towards his apartment and think for a bit.
Merida couldn't deny that it looked way nicer than hers. Hardwood floors, simple furniture, fresh paint on the walls, a few rooms down the halls, a clean kitchen stocked with food, and an ocean view. There are some papers and an opened laptop on the table near the kitchen where he was probably working before she knocked on the door. He was even wearing a dark sweatshirt and jeans which meant he wasn't working. Merida isn't even sure if she's ever seen him in casual wear.
"No," Blake says, "honestly, my place still would've looked like this. I'd cover your eyes but you'd knock me on the floor under your foot."
Merida smiles a little. "Where did this violent image of me come from? I'm quite offended. Your place is nicer than mine."
Blake laughs nervously as he runs a hand behind his head and down his neck. "So, uh, so what are you doing here?"
"I wanted to make sure you were hanging in there after…"
Her voice trails off since she didn't prepare an answer. He called her when he got back in town and she didn't know what to say other than okay. Usually, when her girlfriends would text her after a night out that they got home safely, Merida would say the same thing once she made it back home and the conversation would end there. But with Blake, she felt like the conversation had to keep going. Why didn't any of her friends prepare her for this awkward tension? Blake ended up doing most of the talking about San Francisco that sounded like rambling but she didn't mind.
Blake raises a brow and grins when she doesn't finish her sentence. "You could've done that over text."
Merida nods. "I could've … but I didn't want to."
"Why not?"
"You know why."
"I do but tell me."
Her eyes sharpen as she stares at him. "Stop."
"Alright, let's head out."
Merida pauses. "Why? I just got here."
Blake nods as he grabs his keys and shoes. "Exactly. Time to sightsee. You must be starving so let's go to the coast. Besides, you look amazing while I'm unshaven, probably hungover, and in the same clothes I've been wearing for a week."
Merida doesn't move from her spot. "Why are you acting weird?"
"I'm not."
"You are."
"Am not. Again, possibly hungover."
"Who's here?"
Merida's first thought was that she should've rammed down the door when she showed up. She eyes Blake suspiciously when she hears one of the doors down the hall open and close, and footsteps come out with chattering on the phone in a different language. Merida hovers a hand to her holster but Blake puts her hand down and covers her hip with her jacket by zipping it up.
"убери это," he whispers, voice stern as he glances down the hallway.
Merida doesn't argue, especially when she locks eyes with a woman who ends her call the moment she sees her.
The room is silent. Merida looks back and forth between Blake and the woman. They have the same faces but her features are sharper and her black hair is longer with beautiful strands of grey. Merida can't help but think that Blake's mom is a photocopier with her kids. She can't imagine what she or his other sisters look like but with those odds, it's similar.
Merida looks at Blake and sees his ghost-white expression, especially as his sister's lips purse open when she pieces together who Merida is. Now she's grinning which pales Blake even more.
"I'm Brooke," she introduces herself as she holds out her hand. She has a thicker French accent compared to Blake's American one. "Blake's oldest sister."
"Merida," she responds, shaking her hand. "Blake's…" her voice trails off.
"Girlfriend," Blake states once he returns to reality. His voice squeaked by the second syllable so he clears his throat. Merida hides her grin since she would talk the same with her counterpart of that word. "My girlfriend. Mer, Brooke is in town since her husband is guest-lecturing at Stanford. They live in Marseille and left their kids there."
"Fascinating," Merida says, looking at Brooke. "I've never been to France."
Brooke looks at her brother. "Elle est vraiment jolie."
Blake winces. "Elle peut parler —"
"Merci beaucoup!" Merida exclaims. "Nous partageons quatre langues."
This is exactly what happened at Emily and Daniel's wedding when Blake decided to flex his Russian skills to her parents. They were impressed and she was shocked at the time, but he knows she speaks French so this was embarrassing for him. Merida can't help but smile at how the tables have turned and Blake regretted not getting her out of the apartment sooner.
"I like her," Brooke says. "Maman would like a picture if that's okay with you."
Merida respects that she was talking to her and not Blake, knowing that Brooke will send the photo to his mother and the rest of the family. Having a boyfriend is so much fun.
"No!" Blake yells, sounding like a little girl. Merida and Brooke look at him strangely for sounding like that. "Brooke-"
"Do you want a picture of our matching tattoos?" Merida questions.
Merida smiles as Blake's face reddens to the same shade of her hair and Brooke's jaw drops open. Merida has never wanted to laugh so much in her entire life.
"Blake!" Brooke yells.
-o-
Asgard
Although he's canoeing with Freya and he feels calm, Apollo can't ignore the uneasy pit in his stomach stemming from everything going too well. He took Freya's words about his paranoia and an ongoing interlude, but he took it as a sign that he was becoming dangerously detached from the reality that is his destiny.
Freya thought canoeing would relax him but the rippling waters only accelerate his thoughts. At least he has Freya sitting across from him.
Apollo puts the oars down on his lap. "If there was something out there that can kill you, wouldn't you try and be an expert on it?"
"I'm not sure," Freya responds. "Do you think The Midgard Serpent is an expert on you?"
Apollo scoffs. "I sure as hell hope not."
"So what do you think? What's your stance on Ragnarök now?"
"I still think it's better to lose fighting than giving up," Apollo admits. "I'm not as hopeful as before but my heart is still there."
Freya nods. "Fair. As a warrior, I understand. You should start thinking of contingencies."
Apollo didn't realize that part. He's the prince, the heir to the throne. Like Iqadi when she had to construct her plans. When he dies, the order would shift and scramble so he has to find a way to ease the process. "Like Asgard's fate if I choose to perish."
"Precisely."
"Alright…" He looks her in the eyes. "Marry me."
Freya's eyes widen and she immediately pushes him overboard. Water splashes on her as she grabs the oars and starts canoeing away. Once she's reached the other end of the river, her heart pounds in her ears and she almost drops the oars. Did he really ask that? Freya turns around to look for him and she pauses when the water is still. Before she calls him, her canoe tips over and she flips in the water.
Freya swims up to the flipped underbelly of the canoe. Her head breaks the surface and she moves her hair that sticks on her face. Apollo appears beside her grinning and she splashed him, hoping his beard never dries.
"Look at you blushing," he says.
"Stop it," Freya responds, her face burning. "I ought to stab you. You can't just say things like that."
"Why not? It's a valid contingency statement. Your love comes in the form of reliability. You support me after you called out each of my plans. You accompanied Sigyn and me to the scariest realms for a plan you knew wouldn't work. You stayed by my side, even and especially when I lost my mind."
Freya's mouth dries despite intaking a lot of river water. Her eyes break contact with Apollo and she isn't sure what to think. She doesn't know who to talk to that isn't somewhat connected to him in some way. It's times like this when she wishes she had her mother.
"You don't demand a wife but ask for her," Freya states, taking a breath. "That can't be on your mind, Apollo. Put yourself aside for now and look at the bigger picture."
"I am," he argues.
"You're not."
"We're looking at the same picture differently."
Freya groans. "Gods, Apollo, Asgard and Midgard don't need a sacrifice or a champion."
"Then what do they need?"
"A hero."
Apollo nods, then his face lights up. "You're right. You're absolutely right. We got this. You're my Freya, my comrade in arms."
Apollo kisses her forehead before swimming away, possibly back to the palace to brainstorm even more. Freya stays in her spot, treading as a smile appears.