Chapter Text
“Baba,” started young T’Challa to his father as they sat together near the edge of the cliff overlooking the vast green plains of Wakanda, a plethora of stars twinkling brightly in the night sky above their heads. “Can you tell me the story about our grandfathers? Mama said last night that you would tell me.”
T’Chaka looked down to his son. “Yes, I suppose it is time for you to learn of our history,” he said approvingly. He inhaled deeply before beginning.
“Thousands of years ago, a meteorite containing a strange, powerful metal called vibranium landed on Earth in a place now known as Wakanda. The five tribes that lived there fought each other to contend for the metal, until one warrior was shown by Bast a vision of a plant that, because of the metal, was in the shape of a heart -”
“The Heart-Shaped Herb, Baba!” interjected T’Challa excitedly.
“Yes,” nodded T’Chaka, smiling. “The Heart-Shaped Herb. Very good, T’Challa. Now, the warrior ate the herb and gained superhuman abilities. He used his powers to unite the tribes. They all crowned him the King of Wakanda and the first Black Panther. They built Wakanda with their great resource of vibranium and eventually their technology became so advanced they had to hide themselves from the rest of world for protection.”
“Okay,” said T’Challa, nodding seriously. “But why?”
“Why?” repeated T’Chaka bewilderedly.
“Yes, Baba, why did they need to protect themselves from the rest of the world? Why do we need to?”
There was a moment of pause as T’Chaka considered his options on how to answer his very curious son’s question. He could tell his son the truth, that the outside world was filled with evil, that the outside world was wracked with war and bloodshed and that they used their every resource to wage war on others. On the other hand, he could just deflect the question. Lying was not an option here. His six-year-old son was too smart for that and far too perceptive. And after all, lying would only bring heartbreak and displeasure in the future. T’Challa would hate him for it.
“My son,” he finally sighed. “Sometimes there are things that take a long time and the right time to learn.” T’Challa visibly pouted as he tilted his head up to look at him.
“Then, when can I learn it?” asked T’Challa, still pouting, with a slight whine to his voice.
T’Chaka grinned at the young boy. “When you get older, perhaps.”
“Baba!”
He laughed as he kissed the top of his son’s head. “Come now, T’Challa. I’m sure your mother is waiting for us at home,” he said as he began to stand.
“Wait, Baba,” stopped T’Challa. “One last question, please?” The boy turned his big brown eyes towards him. One look into the boy’s eyes and he knew he would not be able to resist.
“What is it, T’Challa?”
“Where is the Heart-Shaped Herb now?” asked the boy curiously.
He tilted his head slightly as he regarded his son, suspicious. “Why do you ask?”
“You must get your powers from somewhere!” exclaimed T’Challa suddenly. “Baba, you’re the Black Panther! And then I will become the Black Panther. I need to know these things, don’t I?”
“Yes, you do, my son. But, as I said, some things -”
“Oh, please, Baba?”
A heavy sigh escaped his lips before he could stop it. While he certainly loved T’Challa and never regretted the decision to have him, he did not think he could handle another incredibly inquisitive and curious child anytime soon. “The Heart-Shaped Herb is being kept not far from the Palace. We farm the herb in the gardens. Would you like to go see them?”
He knew he made a mistake the moment the boy enthusiastically nodded his head with a big smile on his face.
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“General Winda,” T’Chaka said. “Make sure that the Doras are on extra guard tonight at the herb gardens.”
General Winda tilted her head curiously. “May I ask why, Your Highness?”
“My son is expected to be there.”
The general smiled and bowed. “Of course, My King.”
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T’Challa opened his eyes and peeked over his shoulder. Upon seeing that his parents had already retreated to their bedchambers, he rolled over on his bed as quietly as he could and pushed himself off. Tiptoeing out of the room, he searched left and right for any sign of his parents or their guards and silently walked out the door.
As he walked down the corridors of the Palace, he finally gave some thought to his course of action for his ‘mission’ tonight. Don’t let Mama and Baba know you are not sleeping, he thought seriously. Very important. Though he tried to stay as hidden as possible, he could not help himself from looking and staring around him. Why is nobody here? Is General Winda not supposed to be guarding the Palace?
His heart thundered against his chest as he walked closer and closer towards the doorway leading to the gardens, his small footsteps echoing loudly in his ears. He had never once tried to be the slightest bit disobedient, or rebellious, but he wanted to see if the Heart-Shaped Herb was actually heart-shaped and if it could grant him otherworldly abilities. He too wanted to be the Black Panther!
T’Challa was proud to say that he had a very good memory and could remember things well. So it was no surprise to him that he was able to trace back his and his father’s footsteps to the herb gardens, when his father had offered to bring him there a little earlier.
Entering the gardens was quite easy, what with no guards standing there at the entrance (I really should tell Baba that the Doras aren’t doing their jobs), though the panther statues in front scared him a little. But he was nothing if not determined. A couple of statues were not enough to deter him from his task at hand. And was he glad that he had a little more courage inside him.
T’Challa was awed, staring at the sight before him slack-jawed with wide eyes. While it was a little more dark than he liked it to be, he did not let that bother him as he let his little legs carry him closer to the herbs. They were beautiful. They were purple too, his favourite colour! And they were also actually heart-shaped. So the stories are true. He could not believe that his mother did not have these around the Palace. He thought briefly of plucking some to bring back home before discarding it completely. That would certainly show his parents that he had snuck out alone at night when he should be sleeping.
Now was the chance for him to be just like his father, the Black Panther. He could just take and eat one now and he would be so strong and so fast! His heart beating loudly in his ears, he inched closer to a herb and reached out with his small hand. Just a little bit more and -
“My Prince, I do not think you are supposed to be here.”
T’Challa yelped and fell backwards onto his bottom. All the blood rushed to his face and his heart dropped all the way down to his stomach when he heard the voice from behind him. It was a Dora - Faraji. They were here the whole time! Oh, he was so in trouble now.
Another Dora quickly jogged to him and pulled him up by the armpits. “There now, My Prince,” she patted away the dust on the back of his trousers. “Let’s get you to your parents.”
“How did you know I was here? Where were you?” asked T’Challa indignantly as he was pulled away by the hand, the Dora leading him out of the gardens.
Faraji laughed from in front of him. There were five or six Doras escorting him back home. “Oh, My Prince,” she shook her head as she turned to look back at him, sighing, mirth very evident in her voice. “Your father knew you would be here. We were told to expect you. So, we decided to play a game of hide-and-seek with you.”
“Hide-and-seek doesn’t work like that!”
Now, more of the Dora Milaje laughed. “Whatever you say, Prince T’Challa,” said the Dora holding him.
The trip back was filled with T’Challa huffing and grumbling his annoyance and displeasure, all to hide the feelings of dread and nervousness of course. The feelings were rightfully so; he certainly got an earful from his mother in front of his bedchambers where he was presented to his parents. When he looked to his father with wide, pleading eyes, the man had only smiled triumphantly and shook his head.
When he was left in his room to sleep, with guards stationed outside his chambers, he could vaguely make out the sound of his father’s laugh amidst his mother’s chattering. The nerve of that man.
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Nearby the great river where members of the River Tribe resided, a young four-year-old girl lied in her bed as she listened to her father’s tales of the outside world.
“The outside world is not as bad as it is made out to be,” said her father. “Every bad has a good, and every good has a bad. Remember that.”
“Can I go outside of Wakanda, Father?” she asked earnestly. “I want to see these things too!”
“Maybe when you are older, you might be permitted to leave,” he smiled. “It is dangerous for a young girl like you to be going off on your own, you know.”
From the corner of her eyes, she could see her mother rolling her eyes and shaking her head from where she stood by the door. “Enough of that now, love,” she said. “Our daughter has had a long day today, hasn’t she?”
“Ah, well. Shame then,” said her father teasingly, the corners of his eyes crinkling in humour as he gazed down at her. He stepped aside to let her mother sit at the end of the bed.
“Goodnight, my darling daughter,” her mother bid as she bent down to kiss her on the forehead.
“Goodnight, Mama,” she returned easily.
When her mother stood and left the room, her father knelt by the bed, gently running his hand over her head. “I see a great future ahead of you, my daughter,” he whispered softly. “You will be our pride and joy. You are our pride and joy.”
“Father,” she exhaled. “You are leaving again, aren’t you?”
Her father smiled, but it did not quite reach his eyes. “One day, you will understand.”
She rolled her eyes. “You say that all the time.”
He chuckled, planting a kiss on her forehead, and stood. “Goodnight, Nakia,” he said as he made to leave the room.
“Goodnight, Father,” she called back.
That night, Nakia slept curled into herself, arms wrapped around her little body as she cried herself to sleep, as she always did whenever her father left for his spy missions.
One day, she vowed through her tears. One day I will go out there and see what Father sees. If there are crying kids like me, like Father says there are, then I will help them and make them happy again!