#ramonda

The Wakandan palace was a place of unmatched beauty—its towering spires, intricate carvings, and vibrant gardens offered a sense of peace that was unmatched by anywhere else in the world. But for you, it had become more than just a marvel of architecture. It was your sanctuary, your refuge. And in its heart, you had found something even more unexpected: a mother’s love.

It had been months since you fled from the clutches of your ex-girlfriend, a woman whose charm had once been magnetic but whose cruelty had slowly drained you of your spirit. At first, the relationship had been perfect, or so it seemed. Her words were sweet, her touch tender. But over time, the facade cracked, revealing control masked as care and manipulation disguised as love. By the time you realized what was happening, you felt trapped.

When you arrived in Wakanda, you carried with you the weight of that relationship—the fear, the self-doubt, the wounds both visible and invisible. Shuri had been the first to notice the shadows in your eyes. Ever perceptive, the princess approached you one evening as you sat alone in the gardens, staring at the horizon with a vacant expression.

“Are you all right?” she had asked, her tone gentle but probing.

You’d forced a smile, nodding quickly. “I’m fine, just tired.”

But Shuri wasn’t convinced. Over the following days, she’d kept an eye on you, offering small acts of kindness—a warm drink, an invitation to work on one of her projects, or simply sitting with you in silence. It was through her that Queen Ramonda learned of your plight.

The first time you met Ramonda, truly met her beyond formalities, was during a quiet afternoon in her private chambers. Shuri had gently nudged you toward the meeting, promising it would help.

“My mother has a way of making things better,” she’d said with a knowing smile. “Trust me.”

You’d been nervous, hesitant to burden someone of Ramonda’s stature with your troubles. But the moment you stepped into her chambers, her presence enveloped you like a warm embrace. She sat gracefully by the window, sunlight casting a golden halo around her silver hair. When she turned to look at you, her gaze was soft yet commanding, as if she could see straight into your soul.

“Come, child,” she beckoned, patting the seat beside her. “Let us talk.”

And talk you did. Slowly, hesitantly at first, but as the words began to flow, so did the tears. You told her everything—the highs and lows, the fear and pain, the struggle to leave, and the lingering scars that refused to heal. Ramonda listened intently, never interrupting, her expression a mix of compassion and quiet fury on your behalf.

When you finished, she reached out, taking your trembling hands in hers. “You are brave for leaving,” she said firmly. “Never doubt that. It takes great strength to walk away from what harms you, even when your heart tries to convince you otherwise.”

Her words struck a chord deep within you. For so long, you’d felt weak, broken. But in that moment, you began to see yourself through her eyes—not as a victim, but as a survivor.Over the weeks that followed, Ramonda took you under her wing. She was a steady presence in your life, offering comfort and guidance without ever making you feel like a burden. Her wisdom became a beacon, helping you navigate the tumultuous waters of healing.

“Healing is not linear, my dear,” she told you one evening as you sat together in the palace library. “Some days will feel like progress, and others will feel like you are back where you started. But each step, no matter how small, is still a step forward.”

On particularly hard days, when the memories threatened to overwhelm you, Ramonda was there to anchor you. She’d hold your hand, her touch grounding, and remind you of your strength. “You have endured so much,” she’d say. “But you are still here. That is something to be proud of.”

It wasn’t just her words that helped, but her actions. She ensured you felt safe within the palace walls, surrounding you with people who cared for you. When your ex attempted to contact you, Ramonda took immediate action. With the full authority of the Wakandan throne, she made it clear that no harm would come to you under her protection.

“You are part of this family now,” she declared. “And no one threatens my family.”

The weight of her words brought tears to your eyes. For the first time in what felt like forever, you felt truly safe.

As the days turned to weeks, you began to find pieces of yourself that you thought had been lost. Ramonda encouraged you to explore your passions, to rediscover the things that brought you joy. She’d sit with you as you painted, her presence a quiet reassurance, or join you in the gardens where you’d spend hours tending to the flowers.

“There is healing in creation,” she told you one day as you worked together to plant a row of vibrant blooms. “Each seed you sow, each brushstroke you make, is a reminder that you are building something new.”

Her encouragement extended beyond emotional support. She urged you to find your voice again, to reclaim your agency. When you expressed doubt in your abilities, she was quick to dispel them.

“Do not let the words of someone who sought to diminish you define your worth,” she said. “You are capable of far more than you realize. And you have an entire kingdom behind you to remind you of that.”

It was during one quiet evening in her chambers that you realized just how much Ramonda had come to mean to you. You’d been plagued by a particularly vivid nightmare, one that left you shaken and unable to sleep. Without thinking, you found yourself at her door, hesitant but desperate for comfort.

She opened the door almost immediately, her expression softening when she saw your tear-streaked face. Without a word, she pulled you into a hug, holding you tightly as you sobbed into her shoulder.

“You are safe,” she whispered, her voice steady and soothing. “No one will hurt you here.”

She led you to the sofa, wrapping a warm blanket around you before sitting beside you. As you leaned against her, she began to hum a soft, melodic tune. The sound was comforting, like a lullaby, and gradually your breathing steadied.

“Thank you,” you murmured, your voice barely above a whisper. “For everything.”

She placed a gentle hand on your cheek, her eyes meeting yours. “You do not need to thank me, my dear. It is a mother’s duty to protect and nurture her children. And you are as much my child as Shuri or T’Challa.”

Her words broke something open within you, and for the first time in a long time, you allowed yourself to truly believe that you were worthy of love and care.

Under Ramonda’s guidance, you continued to heal, to grow. The memories of your past still lingered, but they no longer held the same power over you. With each passing day, you felt stronger, more sure of yourself.

Ramonda’s pride in your progress was evident. “Look at you,” she said one day as you stood before her, ready to present a project you’d been working on with Shuri. “You are blossoming, my dear. Never forget how far you’ve come.”

Her words stayed with you, a constant reminder of the strength you’d found within yourself—a strength that had been nurtured by the unwavering love of a queen who had become your mother in every way that mattered.