#dark read

“Is it not beautiful?” Y/N moaned in ecstasy, spinning around with her arms spread as she continued to walk.

“Would you like the truth?” The Dora spoke with candor as T’Challa shot her a warning glance before she shrugged casually. “She asked a question.”

He ignored their guards and walked up behind her as she leaned against the fence of the 300-acre property, the sun shining in the opposite direction of where they were standing, illuminating the golden hues of her bronzed complexion.

“We live such complex and technological and advantageous lives, T’Challa.” She sighed as he placed his arms around her, the woman he’d been in love with since he was eighteen settling back into his broad chest, her hands going over his. “I wanted to just, for once, embrace the simplicity.”

He chuckled. “You’ve certainly succeeded. I do not think we can get more simplistic than Kansas.”

She pulled back her elbow to hit him in his stomach even though she knew that it would cause him no pain. He laughed softly, moving his head to kiss her temple before turning around as a group of Caucasian individuals walked toward them.

“I thought the smell of unseasoned food invaded my senses,” Ayo muttered as she and Teela snickered.

“Ayo….” The head Dora heeded to the prince’s warning as he and Y/N slowly stalked over to meet the colonizers.

“Mr. Ud….”

“Udaku.” T’Challa pronounced as he shook the man’s hand, one arm wrapped securely around Y/N’s waist as she noticed the group behind the man included a woman who looked to be his wife, and two women and men around she and T’Challa’s age, maybe younger, maybe older. “You must be Mr. Wellington.”

“That would be me.” The man with a rather painful looking reddish tint to his skin that was all masked by his snakeskin cowboy hat confirmed with his thick western accent. “And you must be his lovely wife.”

Y/N paused as she realized he was talking to her. “Me? Oh, I’m-“

“She is.” The princess looked up at T’Challa who kept his stoic expression on the owner of the farm. “This is Y/N.”

“Pleasure to meet you, Mrs. Udaku.” He lifted his hat off his head, revealing a growing bald spot right in the middle that was accentuated by the grueling sun.

She felt stupid as all she could manage to do was smile weakly. Had T’Challa really told these people that they were married?

“What a lovely couple.” The woman behind them complimented as Y/N realized she looked much older than initially figured but then wondered if it was because of the unnecessary makeup she had piled on her face. “I’m Majorie, and these are our kids: Lauren, Matthew, Dillon, and Lindsey.”

Y/N nodded to acknowledge the children while T’Challa narrowed his eyes in the direction of the two young men who couldn’t seem to control the lustful looks they were giving his “wife.” The prince tightened his hold on Y/N who looked at him with confusion.

“And these two are….”

“Friends,” he dismissed with a voice that all but said he would say no more on the topic. That was all these people needed to know about Ayo and Teela.

“Bast,” Y/N gasped, breaking from her boyfriend as she ran over to one of the white fences and watched as a beautiful assortment of horses galloped into the confined area. “T’Challa, look!”

Ayo and Teela snickered as they observed their king’s fingers flex at his side as he followed the young colonizer’s eyes tag the motion of Y/N’s backside as she jogged over to the fence. They just knew he was suddenly regretting taking her to a warm climate, a place where the style of clothing was much more revealing, a place where she wouldn’t be exposing as much skin as she currently was.

“Hmmm?” He hummed, walking over and easily lifting her short frame from behind so that her feet were planted on the first horizontal bars of the fence, allowing her a better view.

“Oh, you’re not-“

“Hush, Lindsey.” Mr. Wellington quickly silenced his daughter. “Do you have any idea how much they’re paying us to be here? With the profit we’ll be bringing in after this weekend, we could fence the whole goddamn property over if need be.”

“I’ve never seen them in person.” Y/N was in pure awe as she watched the horses gallivant around the greenery, some interacting with each other. She smiled and sighed in ecstasy. “Oh, aren’t they beautiful?”

“Divine.” He kept his arms secured around her was it and dragged his lips to the back of her exposed shoulder.

“T’Challa!” She lightly scolded, grabbing a hold of his elbow.

He felt the quiet shift in her mood. “What is it, love?”

“If you did not want to come here-“

“I could care less where we went, where we are, or what we do.” He spoke against soft and smooth skin of her neck. “My only desire has been and always will be just to be in your presence. To be with you.”

It was as though he could see her smile through the veil she wore.

“I love you.” She spoke in Xhosa while leaning her head back against his shoulder in order to stare up at him.

He kissed her forehead. “I love you too.”

“So.” Both T’Challa and his love looked up and to the right to see the man’s other daughter, the faux blonder with green eyes and crow lines smiling at them, well, rather T’Challa. “Have you ever rode before?”

Y/N quipped a brow at not only the toothy grin the girl was giving her boyfriend, err, husband, but the flirty tone.

“No, I have not,” T’Challa replied in his typical regal tone. “But it is not in my plans to ride today. My wife is the one with the interest.”

Her smile dropped, earning a smirk from Y/N at there girl’s evident disappointment. “Oh.”

“Well have you ever rode before?” Her voice was a stark contrast from before in that she sounded annoyed as she directed her question to the princess of the Merchant Tribe.

However, before Y/N could reply, the two young men walked up, one tipping his hat with a smug smirk. “I’m sure she has, sis. I’m sure she has.”

If looks….could…..kill.

“Shall I impale him where stands now-“

“Or tonight in his sleep?” Teela finished Ayo’s question as the Doras stood behind T’Challa and Y/N.

“Move.” Y/N whispered to T’Challa who gave her a strange look but obeyed as he watched her jump down from the fence and stalk over to the young man who towered over her by a good eight inches.

“Y/N….” T’Challa trailed off, standing in the same spot as he knew that it would be no problem for him to be over at her side in a matter of seconds if the situation called for it.

She eyed the man once more before taking her right foot and hooking it behind the boy’s knee, causing him to buckle, bringing him to her eye level. She grabbed his shoulders and spun his body around, taking that same foot and pushing it into his calf, forcing him to his knees. Y/N moved quickly as she grabbed his shoulder and arm, pulling it hard and rough as an uncomfortable cracking sound entered the air.

“What the hell-“ The brother looked over at T’Challa who grabbed his arm as he reached to touch Y/N.

“She’s simply dislocated his shoulder.” He spoke with a dangerously calm tone. “A minuscule injury compared to what I will do to you if you even think of laying a hand on her.”

The boy gulped and tagged his arm out of the prince’s hold.

His brother was on his own.

“Consider this my leniency.” She whispered into his ear as he writhed against the firm grasp she had on him. “If you ever even try to fix your tongue to disrespect me in such an immoral way again, not only will I permanently break your arm. I will do the same to the other and leave you out in the middle of these fields, alone, to find your way back to safety.” She threatened smoothly. “Do I make myself clear?”

When he said nothing, she dug her fingers into his shoulder. “Crystal.” He gritted out.

Satisfied, she released him and stepped back, walking back over to T’Challa who kissed her temple as the siblings tended to the brother.

“Foolish colonizers.” Ayo hissed in annoyance as the four Wakandans turned around to finish perusing the property.

“You should have let me handle him,” T’Challa spoke, grabbing her hand as the two walked closely next to each other.

“He needed to be taught a lesson.” Y/N shrugged. “One that included a warning. Not severed body parts.”

“Is dislocating his shoulder not considered severing?”

“It can be fixed.” She shot back casually before her eyes landed on a something, another horse. “Look….” She trailed off, dragging him with her as she stepped to the fence to see the most beautiful black thoroughbred standing in the middle of the pasture, gazing off into the sun. “That one.”

He looked down. “That one what?”

She kept her gaze on it. “I want to ride that one.”

At that moment, the horse made a loud sound and stood up its two back legs.

T’Challa shook his head. “I do not think that’s a good-“ of course, that was when Y/N moved to climb over the fence. “-idea.” He shook his head. This woman would be the death of him. He easily hopped over the fence and stood near the side as he watched her carefully make her way over to the animal who kept walking from side to side.

“Hello.” Spoke to it, her voice soft.

“What the hell is she doing?” Mr. Wellington yelled while jogging over to them. “That horse is highly unstable! She needs to get out of there now!”

Y/N waved him off and continued to trek over to the animal who was watching her out the corner of his eye.

“Oh sweet baby Jesus,” the Caucasian man started to sweat and pulled his hat off, holding it against his chest. “Majorie!” He was waving and calling frantically for his wife. “Get the insurance company on the phone!”

“I won’t hurt you.” She murmured as she was a mere few inches from the horse when she stopped in the middle of walking, turned around, and just stood there. She didn’t move, didn’t talk, nothing. She just stared at the ground.

“What is she doing?” Teela asked no one in particular from outside the fence.

“I’ve got them-“ Majorie yelled while rushing over with the phone in her hand, but her husband motioned for her to be quiet.

“Well, I’ll be damned.” Mr. Wellington said in pure shock as he watched the infamous horse from hell slowly walk over to Y/N and brush his face against hers.

The princess grinned and gingerly rubbed the horse between his eyes. “What’s his name?”

“Solomon,” Majorie answered before realizing she was still on the line and abruptly informing them that she no longer needed their services, disconnecting the call.

Y/N giggled as Solomon rubbed up against her, prompting the princess to mount herself upon him without an ounce of hesitation. She made a sound with her mouth and kicked him on his side before he started to run across the field, her leaning over to keep on him while holding onto the reigns.

“Has she ever ridden before? She seems so comfortable up there.” Mr. Wellington noted while walking to go through the gate of the fence so that he could stand next to T’Challa who was watching his wife just to make sure that everything continued to run over without a problem.

“She has.” He spoke with intentional vaguely, confident that the white man would certainly not believe him if told them all the times that he, Y/N and the rest of them would sneak into the herd of rhinos and ride them before the elders awoke at dawn just for the fun of it.

No, he wouldn’t believe that whatsoever.

When she finally galloped back over, T’Challa walked back over to his wife, coming behind her as she continued to smile and giggle with Solomon.

“Isn’t he amazing?” She exclaimed with bliss while ruffling his mane as T’Challa placed one hand on the small of her back and the other on the top of the horse’s head. While he did not necessarily share her love for horses, he could certainly see the beauty in this one. Never had he seen one with such purity in its color. It was a beaut, for sure. “Can we come back to visit? Please?”

He eyed her, squinting ever so slightly. “You really like this horse, eh?”

She laughed lightly as Solomon once again pushed his head into her neck. “I do.”

He watched them interact and leaned over to kiss her hair which was neatly cornrowed for their trip, letting his lips linger for a few extra seconds before starting to walk back over to Mr. Wellington.

“How much?”

The man paused. “I’m sorry.”

“How much do you want for him?”

The owner of the farm faltered. “Mr. Udaku, I don’t mean to insulate nothing here, but that’s a championship thoroughbred. Now, my son is a  competitor who needs a horse like that if he wants to continue to compete, and we paid almost 50 grand-“

“I will give you a hundred.” T’Challa cut the man off whose eyes were as wide as saucers at the news that he could possibly bring in double what he’d paid for. “Under the condition that she can come to visit this…Solomon when she pleases and that he can stay here at your facility. I will pay you an additional annual fifty thousand for room and board and any other cost that he may need.”

Mr. Wellington grabbed his chest. “F-f-f-fifty thousand dollars? That’s 150k!”

“Ayo.” T’Challa nodded and motioned for her to walk over, carrying over a sack. “Write Mr. Wellington  a check for 150k.” He looked over at the awestruck individual. “I can assure you that there are sufficient funds.” A beat. “Do we have a deal?”

“Of course!” He nodded furiously and happily shook his hand. “Can I get you anything else? Some water? It is awfully warm out here. And I heard about my boy. I am truly sorry about him. I will be sure to speak with him. It really is nice to have you all out here. Feel free to stay as long as you please-“

“Hey!” Speaking of, the same son came running over to the fence. “What’s she doing with Solomon?”

“She is riding him,” Teela smirked. “Not that you would know anything about that.”

The young man ignored the Dora. “Dad!”

“Hush boy! I’ll buy you another horse!” He promised, eyes lighting up at all the zeros as T’Challa signed the check and handed it to him. “Several.”

“Wait? You sold him? To them? What the hell?”

“Majorie!” He wasn’t even listening to his son at that point. “What time does the bank close?”

“What was that all about?” Y/N questioned with furrowed brows when T’Challa back over by her as she looked up at him, her back toward Solomon.

“He is yours.”

She chuckled. “What do you mean he is mine?” Silence. “Wait, you….you purchased him?” She turned around, eyes darting back and forth between the horse and her boyfriend. “T’Ch-“

“You are free to come and see him whenever you like.” He explained, placing his arms around her shoulders. “With either myself or Ayo and Teela to accompany you, of course.”

She smiled with teary eyes. “You really got him? For me?” She looked up at him over her shoulder.

He leaned down and rested his head down on her shoulder, her arm reaching back to lightly rub the back of his head as he pecked the side of her neck, both of their eyes closing in contentment.

“Happy birthday, Ilanga Yam.”

•••••

It’d been a week since the attempt.

A week since T’Challa rushed into the bathroom to find his wife completely submerged into the bathtub water.

A week since life for the married couple changed drastically.

Some might argue that life was already changed dramatically by the previous happenings, and that was partially true.

However, there was a stark contrast between having someone attempt to take your life and making a conscious effort to take it yourself.

Murder and suicide

Same outcome: death. Same effects on loved ones. Questions as to why. Yet both affected the victims in different ways depending on the end result. One could possibly see the end of everything, and one could possibly not.

For Y/N, it was a bit of both.

Things were different between her and T’Challa. She couldn’t explain exactly what it was, but she felt it. He still catered to her every need, even more so than usual, the queen under 24/7 surveillance.

She couldn’t even use the bathroom without someone knocking on the door after two minutes to see that she was alright, and T’Challa absolutely sat in on her baths from there on out.

She still felt the need to be in his vicinity at all times but now it seemed as though he was distant. Not in a physical sense. In an emotional sense. She didn’t think it was a conscious doing on his part either. No, it felt like something was nagging at him that not even he was aware of, but she felt it. Yes, she did, and it toyed with her.

I told you before. He’s tired of dealing with you. A king with a useless wife.

Ah yes, the voice. It continued to plague her mind, but she said nothing, especially after T’Challa practically screamed at Dr. Tau that it was her doing which resulted in his wife now “hearing voices.”

Instead, they were both informed that such symptoms had absolutely nothing to do with the operation and sounded more psychological than anything.

Basically, Y/N was going insane.

At least, that’s what she took it as. That’s what she felt like, and that’s why she lied and told T’Challa the next day that the voice was gone, that it was a one-time thing.

If only.

He sees right through you. They all do.

She tried her best to paint on fake smiles for Shuri and Nakia when they came to her room to spend time with her when T’Challa had duties to fulfill, but it never reached her eyes because all she saw and heard were their cries for her husband as he was thrown over that damn waterfall.

Same with Ramonda.

Food didn’t taste the same. She had to make herself eat and even when she did, it didn’t always stay down. She just didn’t have an appetite. What she wanted, who she really wanted, was her daughter.

Why? So she can see how screwed up you really are? How much of a failure you’ve turned out to be?

She shut her eyes in an attempt to block it out, refusing to allow T’Challa, who sat only a few feet away from her, in on the lie that she’d fed him seven days ago.

Her mother. The one person that’s supposed to protect her, and you couldn’t even do that.

Y/N shifted on the sofa, placing the book to the side of her, and pulled her knees up to her chest.

“Ilanga Yam.” She cursed and shut her eyes. “What is it?” She played with the beads of her dress to avoid his concerned stare. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” she replied with swiftness, plastering a small smile. “Just finish working.”

“Y/N...”

“I’m supposed to meet with my grandmother today.” She informed, cutting him off before he could say anything else.

“What time?” He needed to know so that he could clear his schedule. Not that it mattered. Whatever he had planned, if anything, would get canceled or rescheduled no matter what.

She shook her head. “I-I think I need to do this alone.”

“No.” He immediately dismissed.

“What?” She breathed. This was her grandmother. Not his. She needed to talk to the woman. Alone.

“You don’t need to be-“

“But, T’Challa-“

“I said no!” He shouted, banging his fist against his desk and immediately regretted doing so.

Y/N moved on the sofa, crawling backward so that she was sitting up on the arm of the piece of furniture, her position indicating that she was prepared to jump up and run at any second.

T’Challa’s face fell with shame. He could practically smell the fear emanating from her being as he took in her shivering shoulders and wide eyes.

“I-“ He started to speak and then shut his eyes, dropping his head as he looked own with disappointment. Embarrassment. With himself. “I am sorry. It was not my intention to frighten you.” T’Challa wanted to jump up from his desk, march over to her, and pull her into his arms to show her how sorry he was, but he didn’t know if that would only make things worse, stalking over to her like that.

After finding your wife in the midst of a suicide attempt, you didn’t know much of anything.

See what you’ve done? His trepidation? It’s because of you. Once again, you’re causing more problems.

Y/N swallowed deeply and pushed the voice from the front of her mind as she forced herself down the sofa, her feet to the floor before she dragged her body over by him.

T’Challa lifted his eyes up to hers and turned in his chair as she slowly lowered herself on his lap and wrapped her arms around his neck. For a second she regretted her decision as his arms stayed at his side, a move completely out of character for him.

See, it’s starting already….

She tightened her eyes.

“I’m sorry.” He whispered into her ear, reminding her of the normality she longed to return to by enveloping her in the warmth of his arms, his head resting on her shoulder.

“It’s okay.” She reassured, not really sure if she was speaking to herself or him. “But I need to do this alone.” She felt his heavy sigh into her skin. “Please.”

A few seconds of painful silence. “Okay.”

She gave him a small smile and kissed his cheek. “Thank you.” He held onto her for a few seconds even as she went to remove herself from him. She looked at him.

“I love you, entle.”

Y/N nodded softly and squeezed his hand. “I love you too.”

He finally let her go as she started to walk to the door only for thoughts to start to invade her mind. This was the first time she was to be away from him. Sure, he’d be in the palace, but he’d still be a good way apart and while she could almost bet he’d send Ayo to accompany her to the meeting with her grandmother, Ayo wasn’t her security blanket.

He was.

Wow. Can’t even make it out the goddamn room without freaking out. You’re getting worse by the hour.

“Ilanga Yam,” She looked up to see that T’Challa was now standing in front of her, a blockade between her and the door that led to the outside. His hands framed her face, his eyes searching hers for an indication as to what was plaguing her. “It’s okay.”

“What?” She whispered, confused as to what caused him to leave his desk. She then paused and realized that it wasn’t a what but a who. Her. Her chest was heaving as her heart was beating rapidly, a slight sheen of sweat building on her forehead. It was as if she was readying to have a panic attack. “Damnit.”

“I’m sorry.” She apologized, her eyes starting to water as she felt her frustration starting to boil. “I thought that I could- I-I-I wanted to-“

“It’s okay.” He comforted, moving his hands to the sides of her neck as she shook her head.

“No, it’s not.” Her voice broke and her lip quivered as he slowly took one hand and brought it to the small of her back, encouraged by how she placed hers on his chest. “It is as though I am some helpless child who cannot function without you.” A burden. “A burden.” She repeated without realizing it.

“Listen to me,” he pulled her into him, knowing that she would tense at first but eventually relax, just as she did. “You have never, could never, and will never be a burden, Y/N.”

“You’ve barely slept all week, T’Challa.” She pointed out, sadness lacing her small voice. “You spend almost every night watching me.”

“I won’t…I can’t lose you too, Ilanga Yam.” He breathed, dropping his face on top of her head as she sniffled loudly realizing that he was referring to the bathtub incident.

He shut his eyes when he heard her soft cries and felt the wetness against his clothes. “Do you think we will get her back?”

“I do, Ilanga Yam.”

He prayed she didn’t look up, that she kept her face buried in the security of his chest, and held onto the firmness of his voice instead of looking up into his face where she would have seen the apprehension and tear that escaped his eye.

•••••

They met with Olaniyi in the palace courtyards, the farthest Y/N had gone outside of the royal perimeters since T’Challa took back the throne.

Even she knew that she wasn’t ready to face the people….not yet.

As the couple walked out, no Doras, just him and her, and as she laid eyes on Olaniyi, the doubt about just what she would say, started to fade away.

After the standard greetings, T’Challa and Y/N took a seat across from the elder, his wife so close that their legs were touching, her arm still intertwined with his. “How are-“

“I don’t care that you watched him beat me, that you literally stood there and did nothing while he left me bloodied, that you closed off your ears to my screams as he took what no man has permission to forcefully take from any woman-“

“We had no idea he was forcing himself on you-“

“Did you really think that I would willingly give myself to him?” Y/N found her voice increasing in volume as T’Challa lightly squeezed her hand. “If you are not going to be honest with me, then please, at the very least, be honest with yourself.”

“It was perfectly normal for him to want an heir, Y/N.” Olaniyi sighed in frustration. “I just do not understand why you fought him as you did-“

“He had just killed my husband!”

“It was ritual combat, a tradition you kno-“

“Fuck your tradition!” She snapped, standing up, causing T’Challa to stand up with her. The king had so many things that he wanted to say. Bast, he did, but this was not his moment to talk. This was for his wife to speak her peace, and he was not going to take this from her. She needed this, for herself, for her healing.

Olaniyi stared up with wide eyes. “You mind your tongue!”

“You sent away my daughter, our daughter, sit here and justify him raping me, and expect me to take it all in stride? No more, Umakhulu.”

“You stupid girl!” Olaniyi hissed. “You were so caught up in your emotions that that you were not fit to handle that situation!” T’Challa started to say something to the woman for insulting his wife but stopped himself, something that was becoming increasingly difficult by the second. “Threatening to take your life?” Both husband and wife stilled at the mention of that part of Y/N’s confrontation with Killmonger. “What is it?”

“Nothing.” She quietly dismissed. “You had no right to do what you did. She was our child. My daughter. Any decision regarding her was mine to make, and you took that from me.”

“He was going to kill her!”

“No, he wasn’t! I finally had him backed into a corner, Umakhulu. He wasn’t going to kill me! He wouldn’t have let me end my life because he needed me! He would have let her be!”

“But for how long, Y/N?”

“Long enough for me to devise a plan to get her out of Wakanda!” Y/N snapped, the tears leaking out of her face as she gestured to herself. “Me! Not you! If you had let things be, we would have our daughter; she would still be here; her title still intact; her status not unknown!” She covered her mouth as T’Challa wrapped both arms around her waist, his wife’s other hand going to hold onto him for support. “My heart not shattered.”

Olaniyi looked down with shame. “I apologize. I did not-“

“No, you did know.” T’Challa could not hold his tongue any longer as his love broke down in his arms. “You just chose to submit to his will, not realizing the damage that your actions would cause. The heartache.”

“My king-“

“Leave us.” He said quietly, cradling her head as she directed her cries into his shoulder, his hand going to support the back of her curls.

With a despondent countenance, Olaniyi slowly rose from the chair and left the remaining family that she had left alone to bathe in their sorrows.

•••••

T’Challa was both dreading and anticipating this conversation. He knew it needed to take place for both of their sakes yet could not find the time nor the strength to make it happen. However, if his beloved could find it in her to confront her own flesh and blood (not factoring in the disaster that turned out to be), then he could tackle this obstacle.

Y/N truly was distraught following their meeting with her grandmother. So much so that he had to administer the proper dosage of anxiety medicine that Dr. Tau had given him to give to her to help calm her nerves and help her sleep.

Medicine he kept hidden away in a location he and only he knew about.

The dosage was minute but enough to put her to sleep for roughly two hours, more than enough time for him to leave her under Ayo and Okoye’s watchful eyes as he finally handled this.

“I was wondering when you would come,” W’Kabi spoke from his spot within the cell, sitting on the floor, staring at the ground.

T’Challa stood from the outside, his hands clasped behind his back, “she tried....” he shut his eyes and took a deep breath. “She tried to take her own life, W’Kabi.”

At that, the former leader of the Border Tribe looked up. “What?”

“Before that, we had to rush her into emergency surgery for an intracranial hematoma-“

“Bast, T’Challa-“

“Why?” He queried, stepping closer to the vibranium infused glass. “I keep wrecking my brain. The council, yes. For so long they’ve sat there, unchallenged, unaffected, untouched. But you?”

W’Kabi dropped his head. “He was….the king.”

“I was your king!” T’Challa shouted, not even causing the warrior to flinch as he’d seen his friend upset over the years; he’d just never been the object of his anger. “And yet you still turned against me, you sided with him, you brought him into our lives-“

“He was still of royal blood-“

“That is not why you granted him an audience though. Do not lie to me.” He hissed. “You brought him because he killed Klaue, something you were upset with me for not doing!”

W’Kabi made a nose and banged his fist against the glass. “That has nothing to do with this!”

“Do not tell me what has to do with what!” T’Challa matched his tone, both arms at his side. “You were a pawn in his sick and twisted game.” He spat. “Okoye and I had Klaue, and Killmonger stole him from us.” T’Challa hit a few buttons on his Kimoyo beads to pull up a screen to reveal pictures that appeared to be from an old journal.

“What is this?” W’Kabi asked with a trembling voice as he perused the page, his eyes falling onto the page containing a set of names. His parents.

“We found it in Killmonger’s room. It belonged to N’Jobu. He wrote down all of the fallen brothers and sisters from Klaue’s attack and the lost loved ones that they left behind.” The member of the Border Tribe looked up in shock. “He knew who you were. He knew you wanted Klaue dead more than anything, and he knew you were more than likely upset with me for failing to deliver Klaue’s head. He manipulated you.”

“No….” He shook his head and slowly started to back away from the glass.

“You are not the only one who fell victim to his mind games,” T’Challa confessed, making the projection disappear. “That day, in the throne room…..he made a comment about Y/N.” He swallowed deeply. “He asked if she really was the spitting image of Samala, and if I thought their children would come out half as beautiful as her.” He clenched his fist as he revisited his anger at the time at Killmonger’s comment. “I had thought you told him about her, about Jamyah-“

“I would nev-“

“It was why I sent them away,” T’Challa whispered. “Perhaps if I….” He stopped and cleared his throat. He could reflect on that at a later time. “Why did you not try to help her W’Kabi? You knew what he was doing to her? You saw the bruises?”

The man with the darker complexion looked down. “She was his wife, T’Challa.”

“Does that-“

“If he could do that to his wife, what do you think he would have done to Okoye? Hmm? His general?” His voice dripped with emotion as T’Challa was rendered without a retort. What could he say to that? If anyone couple’s love envied his and Y/N’s, it was W’Kabi and Okoye. He couldn’t even imagine what this current situation was putting on their marriage. “I love my wife, brother.”

“And I love mine.” T’Challa countered with equal emotion. “More than life itself.”

W’Kabi pulled his lips together and lightly shook his head to the side. “Then where does that leave us?”

T’Challa grew quiet. Where did that leave the lifelong friends? Could he fault the man for looking out for his beloved? On one hand, he found it slightly unsupported. Okoye was a warrior, the greatest Wakanda had ever seen. If anyone could handle him or herself against Killmonger, it would have been her. Y/N, while a decent fighter, was nowhere near a seasoned enough combatant to even stand a chance against the monster.

On the same token, the King felt selfish for even pondering a scenario where he would want his general in danger. He felt for W’Kabi, truly, because he knew that he would always choose Y/N in every situation, no matter what.

It was an impossible situation which left only one answer.

“I don’t know….I truly do not know.”

A/N: So we finally see the confrontations.

What did you think of grams and W’Kabi’s explanations?

What do you think of the twist with Killmonger purposely using W’Kabi? 

T’Challa blaming himself?

There’s a reason they keep saying ‘he was the king’ which I will explain at the end of the story. 

The flashabck is also meant to show that reader is not defenseless. It’s just hard to fight back when you felt that you’ve lost evertything, and at first, she had to keep in mind that her daughter was still out there. Even after, Killmonger was still using poor Jamyah as leverage. :/

T’Challa and Y/N will be more of the focus with the next chapter as we get more into the voice and will see tensions rise as blame starts to get thrown out. 

Also, if you ever have any backstory questions about this story, my inbox is always open. For instance, HERE is how T’Challa learned how the reader was pregnant.