Reprimand & Reparation

Tony lectured both you and Steve endlessly on the way back to the compound from Malibu; he seemed to have an innate skill at it, making the two of you feel like punished schoolchildren rather than members of the world's mightiest team. He had droned on and on and on, leaving you in a mind state comparable to a head full of mashed potatoes and staring out at the clouds of them as you floated past. It didn't take long for your potato brain to change your mood to hunger with all the food associations. Steve had tried to interject and explain the situation several times, but in an uncharacteristic shift, he deferred to Stark's berating, simply staring at his feet during the entire speech.

Your only hope of rescue was waiting for you at home; Tony had at least enough decorum to tell you that T'Challa had arrived to see you. Either that, or he knew that the consequences of not saying anything were likely more than he was willing to risk; you were handling his lecture well enough, but he knew that anything regarding T'Challa wouldn't be nearly as calmly received.

When the jet came to land in the hangar, the air around it hadn't even begun to settle before T'Challa ran to meet you at the end of the door as it lowered. He wanted to be sure that his was the first face you saw upon your return, after spending nearly a month with Steve Rogers at your side instead of him.

"My love," he sighed in relief at the sight of you, "how are you? You look tired. Are you feeling alright?" As it had been for so long, even the slightest, gentle touch of his hand as it met yours was enough to put your entire mind and body at ease. It was almost too relaxing of a sensation, leaving you stifling a yawn.

"I'm fine, but yes, I'm tired. Do you mind if I take a nap before we catch up with everything? I don't think that I could focus enough on what you'd be saying anyway."

"Of course, anything you need," he nodded, "but tell me, why didn't you sleep on the jet?"

"Tony wouldn't stop long enough to breathe between words. Did you know that one of Iron Man's skills is infinite oratorical reprimand?"

Tony wasn't so far out of earshot that he missed the reference to his alter-ego, bounding down the jet ramp to hurry to his own defense. "Hey, you brought that on yourself, missy."

"Tony, you grounded us."

"Wait, like children?" T'Challa knew that this was a serious moment for you and that you didn't find humor in it, but he certainly did. He was finding himself eager to hear how you would handle this, and excited that he would be there to witness it.

"Yes," Tony answered for you, "exactly like children. That's how they behaved, so that's what they get. They got themselves into things that weren't theirs, and they need to be taught a lesson."

"Oh my god, Tony, you've been around Parker too much."

"What does that tell you if I'm treating you the same?"

"That you need a new hobby," you scoffed, turning away and back to your real focus. "I'm going to head upstairs. Meet me when you're done here?"

"Yes, of course." T'Challa took your hand and gently pressed it to his lips, holding it against them for a few seconds more just to prolong the sensation of having you so close to him again. "I will follow shortly." He stood silently and watched you make your way to the elevator, waiting with a complacent smile until the doors fully closed; once you were out of sight, his demeanor shifted and his posture became rigid. He spun on his heel to face Steve now, any hint of levity or contentment stripped away. "What do you think you were doing?" he hissed through clenched teeth. "You looked me in the eye and promised me her safety and you do something so reckless-"

"Hey, it was her idea-"

"Are you afraid to tell her no?"

"Aren't you?"

"No, I am not."

"Okay, sure," Steve huffed, "you keep telling yourself that. T'Challa, we were safe. FRIDAY was in control. We weren't actually flying them ourselves."

"Still-"

"Look, I'm sorry. I would never put her in danger, you know that. But honestly, she was safer in that suit than she would be driving in the city."

T'Challa opened his mouth to offer another retort, but instead he turned to Stark. "Do you agree with that assessment?"

Tony paused for just a moment, allowing the thought to roll through his mind for maybe a millisecond before finding his answer. "Reluctantly, yes," he paused, with a finger pointed sharply at your partner in crime, "but don't mistake that for encouragement."

The three men stood silently after that, each of them unsure of what to say and who was even next to say whatever it was. Steve was feeling guilty now, after hearing just how concerned the two of you had made T'Challa, coupled with the risk he had taken with Tony's property, even if FRIDAY had it under control. He looked to the King with a barely noticeable nod of his head, raising his hand for the man to take, but the gesture was never reciprocated.

"Very well," T'Challa answered, "I accept your apology. But she is here now, again at my side, and I will see to her well-being. Thank you, Captain. You are relieved of this duty."

~~~

Before Steve had a chance to utter a single syllable, T'Challa had turned away and left, with nothing that could stop him from reaching you now; or so he thought. When he came to your door, however, he stopped with a hand raised to it, but no bravery with which to knock. He didn't know why he was being so ridiculous; you had invited him here, and he was doing nothing wrong. Still, he couldn't shake the feeling of nerves filling his body as he meekly found the will to strike his knuckles to wood. He couldn't even guarantee that there was enough power to allow you to hear him, and he nearly turned away.

"You don't have to knock."

"I'm sorry, it must be a habit," he answered, gently pushing the door open so that he could look inside. "Did I wake you?"

"No, I was awake, come in." You would usually have sat up to meet him, and you wanted to so badly and to get the contact that you had missed for so many weeks, but your body just didn't have the energy. He sat on the edge of your bed, watching you, but making no motion to go any further. "Aren't you going to lay by me? Or is this a part of my punishment too?"

"No, it's definitely not," he sighed softly, equally as gentle as he turned his body to lie next to yours, curling to fit behind you. It was remarkable how graceful a man of his stature could be, and you barely felt a shift around you until his arms found their home with you inside of them. "Is this alright?"

"Don't be afraid. I won't break."

"Are you certain?"

"T'Challa, please."

"Again, I am sorry," he answered, his tone thick with his regret, "you know that I worry about you when you're away from me, and now there is so much more weighing on that fear."

You moved your hand to cover his, as it rested cautiously on your belly, as if already protecting the new life beneath it. His anxiety and concern that he had been carrying in his muscles began to relax so slightly at your touch, his breathing quieting and his heartbeat no longer felt through his chest as it pressed against you. His relaxation was contagious, and it didn't take long for you to fall asleep within his hold. T'Challa had a capacity to make you feel safer next to him than anywhere else in the world, and with any other person. Steve used to fill that role of protector, back when you weren't so assured of yourself, before you had met the man with you now. It was likely why the two of them couldn't find a common place of agreement where you were concerned, and it bothered you to know that they might never find their way.

T'Challa's mind was racing, in stark comparison to yours; he wasn't finding sleep nearly as easily as you were, but then again, he also wasn't creating new life and hadn't had to listen to Tony go on and on for hours in a confined jet prison. When he felt you finally fully calm under his hold, and when he was certain that you were asleep, he pushed himself up carefully and moved around the bed to take his place again so that he could see you. He had spent many hours watching you sleep, unbeknownst to you, and it had become a comfort to him.

As he watched the gentle rise and fall of your breaths, and the subtle movements of dreams in eyes that he wished he could see, he thought back to the beginning and the first time you had slept next to him. He had felt a new kind of fear that day when he lifted you from the ground and heard you stifle your cry of pain for his benefit, but that fear and apprehension was nothing compared to what he was feeling now; now there were two of you. In the weeks that you had been separated, he had missed so much, and he silently vowed that you wouldn't be apart again. He couldn't wait another minute, all of his intricate plans be damned.

"(Y/N), could you wake for me, please," he whispered, gently rubbing his thumb against your cheek. "My love, open your eyes."

"Hmm?"

"Open your eyes, (Y/N)."

The room was only slightly darkened around you, but there was enough light for you to see without causing the sting of interrupted sleep once your eyes began to open. When you had fallen asleep he was behind you, and it was disorienting to see him in front of you now. What was even more disorienting was the spectacular shine of a ring being held out for you to see.

"I have loved you for so long before you loved me in return," he began quietly, his voice tremulous and soft, "before we ever considered a time that we would be together. A time when I watched you from afar and could only dream and wish for a future at your side. My heart has been a willing captive, and it has no desire for freedom. My heart has been yours to protect, to destroy, and to love. My heart aches when we are apart, and the loss is too heavy to bear even a moment longer."

"T'Challa..."

"(Y/N), will you share a life with me? Will you accept me at your side, and allow me to love you as you deserve? Will you be my queen?"


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