Chapter Text
If there was something M’Baku didn’t expect, it was that the once again king of Wakanda would be standing in front of him again so soon. The Great Gorilla had thought, and with reasons, that after the Jabari returned to their mountains, things with the other tribes would go back to normal, with the Jabari as outcasts in the land that had birthed them. But T’Challa was standing in front of him, chin high, and the determined fire of a king in his eyes.
Just like two weeks before, the first time the new king of Wakanda ‘visited’, M’Baku was sitting on his throne, legs spread, chin resting on his fist. He was trying to study the king’s face, find in those dark brown eyes a reason why T’Challa would ask for conferring with M’Baku that time, commanding his guardians to stay outside. In M’Baku’s opinion, it made no sense.
“I have been informed of what you did for the outsider.” M’Baku straightened on his seat. “Extremely kind and merciful of you.”
“I'm not here for you to praise me, M’Baku”
“A king that doesn't wish to be praised.” The Great Gorilla smiled. “That's new.”
M’Baku closed his legs to rest his arms on his lap and leaned forward. “Tell me then, my king,” there was something in M’Baku’s voice that left it clear his only intention was to mock T’Challa when he called him that. “Why are you here?”
T’Challa took a soft but deep breath. A king should not speak before being sure about what he's going to say, he knew that. M’Baku watched him curiously, waiting patiently for the king to answer his question.
“I’m here for diplomatic reasons,” T’Challa spoke, sure of his words. “I have a proposal for you.”
M’Baku couldn’t believe what he was hearing. A king of Wakanda, one that shared the same blood as the ones that preceded him, the ones that had ignored and disrespected the Jabari, is standing on his throne room, requesting to discuss diplomatically. It was unreal. But thinking about it, nothing that T’Challa did and kept doing seemed to make sense. The king had left his kingdom to actively participate in a civil war that had nothing to do with him, instead of waiting for the two parties to weaken each other and then claim his father’s assassin’s head. Not only that, but T’Challa had also forgiven T’Chaka’s murderer. What kind of king did that?
A king as pious as stupid, M’Baku thought, A weak king.
“A proposal?” M’Baku’s hands held each other in front of him. “And what could you offer me that I’d want? Besides the throne. But we both know that you wouldn’t come here for that.”
There’s a swift change in T’Challa’s expression that made M’Baku’s eyes widen expectantly. The king smiled for a short moment, stepping closer.
“That is exactly what I’m offering you,” T’Challa kept his expression neutral, even though it seemed like he’s holding back a smile. “This is literally a proposal.”
M’Baku stared at him for a minuted that didn’t seem to end. The Great Gorilla stood up, giving his back to T’Challa, and facing the snowy landscape that was his kingdom. M’Baku knew that, behind that mountain, there’s a land where there’s no snow, where people were afraid of the Jabari, where the elders didn’t want them. He can count on the fingers of one hand the times he’s visited those lands.
He thought that, maybe, T’Challa was offering him his sister or mother’s hand in marriage. But M’Baku forgot about that idea as fast as it popped into his mind. He doesn’t know T’Challa that much. But something tells him that the king would never do that.
M’Baku turned on his heels to face T’Challa. “What’s exactly what you're offering me?"
“I wish to unite our tribes, all the tribes. I know that won’t happen unless a Jabari sits on the throne.” M’Baku had to admit that was true. “The only way for that to happen is if we unify our bloodlines.”
M’Baku wanted to laugh. That was too much. It sounded like some kind of cruel joke. It was too good to be true.
“Unify our bloodlines?” The Great Gorilla asked skeptically. “And how would that work if we’re both men?”
“Where does this delirious idea come from?” M’Baku really wanted to know.
T’Challa stepped, closer once again, and M’Baku could feel the determination in the small king’s eyes burn through him.
“What I’m offering you is the opportunity to have the throne that you seem to want so much,” T’Challa smiled defiantly. “Or have you give up your hopes of ruling over something more than this beautiful, yet frozen lands.”
M'Baku’s hands turned into fists, and he wished that the Dora Milaje weren't right beside the throne room’s doors, so he could punch the king's naive little head off his shoulders. The Great Gorilla had to remind himself that he had to stay calm, but that didn't stop his nostrils from flaring or his eyebrows from knitting together.
“What I'm offering you,” T’Challa spoke again. “Is a better life for you, for your people… and your children.”
My children, M’Baku thought. He'd done everything he could and more for his children, they were the lights of his life, his reason to keep fighting for the respect they deserved. So when M’Baku’s time was over, his children would be fine. M’Baku had promised his deceased wife, may she rest in peace, that he would protect his children with their life.
“You haven't answered my question yet.” M’Baku stood straight, dwarfing the king with a head and a half. “Where did this nonsense come from?”
“I have spoken to our goddess and-”
“Your goddess,” M’Baku interrupted. Motioning for the king to continue.
“I have spoken to Bast, and she had warned me about a lot of things. Things that I must avoid… and others that I must fix.” T’Challa took a deep breath. “Fix the bridges between the tribes, all the tribes, and bring peace to Wakanda, is my priority.”
“Marrying me? Is that the best you could think about?” M’Baku was toeing the line between skepticism and mockery.
But then M’Baku remembered traditions, and what asking for someone from the Great Gorilla’s bloodline's hand on marriage implied. It made him smile.
“I ask for you to give me two days to think about it.”
T’Challa opened his mouth and closed it again. He'd been ready to try and convince M’Baku to accept or to help with another solution. But that had been surprisingly easy.
“And satisfied with that answer, I'll leave.” The Panther King smiled politely.
“And with the knowledge that I'll confer with you once I have my decision clear, I invite you to leave.”
They conceded each other a respectful nod before T'Challa turned on his heels and left with his guard.
M'Baku sat back on his throne. He closed his eyes for a moment, huffing a laugh when he heard whispers under the wooden floor.
“I know you three are hiding there.” The arguing stopped. M’Baku didn't even look down. “How many times do I have to tell you not to bring your brother here? It's too cold. Get out right now.”
The Great Gorilla kicked the thick fur carpet to reveal the trap door hidden under it. M’Baku watched as two small hands pushed the door up and open.
“It was not my idea!” Both his daughters yelled in unison as they climbed out of the hidden tunnel.
M’Baku sighed and stood from his throne to kneel down and help his son out after the girls were out.
“I don't care whose idea it was,” The Great Gorilla said. But there was no anger in his voice as he rubbed his son’s bare arms. “Next time at least make sure your brother doesn't freeze in there.”
“Yes, baba.” The girls looked down.
M’Baku sat his son on his shoulders and messed his daughters’ hairs, making them gasp in indignation and try to pull away.
“Come on, little spies,” M’Baku laughed. “Let's go somewhere warmer.”
“Were you talking with the Panther King, baba?” His son asked, his small arms wrapped around M’Baku’s forehead.
“Yes, that's him.”
“Are you going to accept?” His younger daughter asked.
“There's no way the king can earn dad's hand,” The older one crossed her arms.
M’Baku grinned at them. “But wouldn't it be fun to see him try?”
The kids giggled. Even though their father didn't let them see the proposal ritual, they always enjoyed when M’Baku told them everything that had happened as bedtime stories, avoiding the bloody details, of course.
Two days passed. T’Challa wasn't sure if he'd been more nervous expecting for an answer, or the day he thought M’Baku finally sent a messenger with said answer. But instead, the Great Gorilla was asking to confer with the king. T’Challa seemed confused when, in the letter, M'Baku requested for T’Challa to go to Jabariland, accompanied by his family. At the end of the letter, the Great Gorilla specified that Nakia wasn't allowed to assist. Why was M’Baku so interested in Nakia not being there? T’Challa didn't know.
It wasn't hard to convince his mother and sister to accompany him. Shuri complained about no amount of clothing being enough to avoid freezing in Jabariland. But she clarified that she would go anyway.
“I've been waiting for my sweet brother to get an arrow to the knee for ages!” She beamed. “Although I never thought it'd be with the Great Gorilla.”
T’Challa never thought that either. But his life was full of unexpected changes and surprises lately, especially that day. That day was almost like puberty all over again.
The next surprise was that, after the ship landed on the only spot in Jabariland that worked as a airstrip, M’Baku and his people were waiting for them. There were drums sounding loud and the thick scent of something sweet in the air, even though the scent was being blown away by the cold winds rapidly.
M’Baku wasn't wearing his usual wooden armor. The Great Gorilla was shirtless, a long white cape that seemed to be made of fur was hanging from his shoulders, being held loosely around his neck by a necklace of wooden beads.
The Panther King didn't notice that he was staring at… the cape? The necklace? Yeah, he was totally just staring at those, until Shuri pushed him so he'd start walking forward and out of the ship. The royal siblings glared at each other until Ramonda cleared her throat behind them. They instantly looked to the front and stood straight. But they still got that mom patented glare that could even make the king gulp.
Like two days prior, T’Challa and M’Baku greeted each other with a respectful nod. M’Baku was smiling, he seemed happy to see T’Challa. That was a surprising and unexpected change.
“I must admit that I was confused when you requested for me to come with my family,” T’Challa confessed. “May I ask why?”
M’Baku’s smile only grew. “The Jabari still respect our ancestors’ traditions,” The Great Gorilla explained. “One of them is specifically about marriage proposals.
Ramonda was close enough to her children for them to feel her tense behind the turn, and they tensed as well. Queen Mother Ramonda always seemed relaxed, collected. The few times T’Challa And Shuri had seen her nervous or tense, there was always a good reason for her to be like that.
Seeing the royal family, or what remained of it after the deaths of the father, the uncle, and the cousin, made M'Baku chuckle shamelessly.
“I hope you didn't quit your training because of going to visit your friends, the colonizers,” M’Baku teased and his men behind him laughed. “Your family and the Dora will be shown the rooms you're staying in. The ceremony will take place tomorrow morning.”
T’Challa didn't understand half the stuff M’Baku was telling him about a ceremony, but he nodded and thanked him for his hospitality nonetheless.
As they were guided to their rooms, T’Challa and Shuri approached their mother to whisper to her.
“What's the ceremony M’Baku’s talking about?” T’Challa asked.
Ramonda looked at both her children before she sighed. “The tradition says that the answer to a marriage proposal done to someone from the leader family of a tribe depends on if the person proposing is deemed worthy by one of the tribe's avatars. If we were back home and it was one of you being asked for your hand by someone from another tribe, the avatar would be a panther. But-”
T’Challa could have sworn he felt the color leaving his face. He didn't need his mother to finish the sentence to understand. That didn't stop Shuri from finishing the sentence for her.
“You're going to get your ass kicked by a gorilla,” The princess gasped, being pinched by her mother on the arm shortly after. Shuri whined and rubbed her arm before squeezing her brother's shoulder. “It was good to know you.”
After being shown their rooms, T’Challa tried to go talk with M’Baku. But no one wanted to tell him where the Great Gorilla was and the Dora hadn't seen him since the landing. It seemed the tradition was that the ‘couple’ couldn't see each other until the ceremony. T’Challa sighed with resignation and went back to his room, ignoring how Okoye and Ayo looked at him pitifully as they stood at each side of the door with the unspoken promise of guarding the king while he rested.
The problem was that T’Challa didn't rest. He couldn't bring himself to fall asleep. The fur blankets were heavy and way too thick, T’Challa almost boiled on that bed. When he tried to open the windows to fight off the hotness, the frozen winds of the mountain gave him goosebumps.
The figure of a gorilla carved in Jabari wood that seemed to be real height didn't help. T’Challa ended up standing in front of it, noticing how it was at least two heads taller than him even when it was on its fours. The big teeth and hands made the king gulp. It was definitely not going to be an easy ceremony.
I hope you didn't quit your training, T’Challa remembered what M'Baku had told him. Did this man really expect T’Challa to face such a beast?
And what if he won? T’Challa had never been around gorillas, but he used to wrestle with the panthers in the palace. Thanks to that the king knew that animals don't know what ‘yield’ means. What would happen if he hurt or killed the avatar? The Jabari wouldn't be happy, to say the least.
But most importantly, was it really a tradition the Jabari tribe still followed or was it all just a cruel joke from M’Baku? T’Challa would never know. A part of him didn't want to know, it'd be humiliating.
T’Challa had no other choice but to wait and pray for Bast to protect him during the ceremony.
“I've been thinking-”
“That's new.” T’Challa winced when Shuri pinched the soft skin right between his knuckles.
“Shut up and listen,” The princess huffed, blowing on her brother's nails that she had just finished painting with gold nail polish. “I've been thinking a lot about this ceremony during the night and I decided to learn as much about it as I could.”
“How?” T’Challa asked curiously.
“I called Nakia and asked for her help.”
T’Challa froze at the mention of Nakia. She was in Puerto Rico, helping people like she'd always wished to. T’Challa hadn't told her about his plan to propose to M’Baku. He wanted to believe he hadn't because she was busy. But he didn't really know why he hadn't. Nakia would have probably thought about a much better plan, right after scolding T’Challa for his delirious ideas. T’Challa just… hadn't told her, not even after he proposed to M’Baku and had to wait two days for an answer. Maybe because he couldn't believe what he'd done either.
“She said that she's happy for you,” Shuri interrupted her brother’s train of thought. “And that she's glad that you're finally thinking like a king, even if your way is antiquated.”
That hurt a little. T’Challa wanted to believe he'd thought like a king since he became one. He was doing his best.
The Panther King didn't know if he was relieved or disappointed that Nakia hadn't complained about his plan.
Relieved, T’Challa tried to convince himself, If she was against it, she would come to stop me. M’Baku wouldn't have been pleased with that, and it would have made everything more complicated.
“What did you learn?” T’Challa changed the subject. He wanted to forget about both Nakia and M’Baku, and just concentrate on the ceremony. It was easier said than done.
“In the ceremony, you'll be given five minutes to choose and study the avatar you'll be fighting, and you'll be given the chance to pick a weapon, object, or whatever you want, to fight,” Shuri explained as she started painting T’Challa’s other hand’s nails. “Don't be stupid, choose your suit.”
“I thought you wanted to see the gorilla kick my ass.” T’Challa tried to cross his arms and look offended. Shuri didn't let him.
“Stay still!” She huffed. “Even though videos of animals attacking people go viral, I don't want a giant gorilla to break you in half.”
“I'll translate that to ‘I love you, my dear brother. I couldn't live without you’,” T’Challa teased, imitating Shuri’s voice mockingly.
“You know what, I take that back,” Shuri grinned. “I hope that gorilla crushes your skull.”
T’Challa paled. “Wait, can they do that?”
Shuri finished painting his nails and stood up, humming a requiem as she walked to the door.
“Shuri, answer my question.” T’Challa frowned and stood up.
“I'll see you at the ceremony!” Shuri rushed to the door. When she opened it, Ramonda was there. “Good morning, mother, you look breathtaking today!” Shuri kissed her mother's cheek and ran off.
T’Challa opened his mouth to call for his sister, maybe even go and chase her. But he sighed and just sat back on the bed's feet. His eyes went to the gorilla statue and he gulped, staring at it until his mother sat on the chair Shuri had been sitting on just moments before, right in front of T’Challa, and held his hands.
The kind but firm squeeze made T’Challa relax. Ramonda smiled at him and her son smiled back, his head resting on Ramonda's hand when she caressed his cheek. The Panther King looked down at the shorts that his mother had brought with her and which were now on her lap. White with a golden band to keep them tight around his waist.
“With that on, you'll definitely be able to see the exact moment when I start bleeding.”
Ramonda frowned at the mere thought of seeing her son hurt and bleeding again. “What did Shuri tell you?”
“She told me I must pick a weapon or object that I’ll use to fight the avatar” T’Challa sighed. “And that gorillas can crush skulls.”
The Queen Mother shook her head. “That's not true.”
“They can't crush skulls?”
“I mean the weapon thing,” Ramonda felt bad for having to say that. T’Challa had looked relieved for a brief moment. “You must pick a weapon or object to face the avatar. Facing them is not necessarily fighting them.”
Ramonda handed her son the shorts. Under them, a slim but resistant string of vibranium beads had been hidden.
“I hope you can wear this instead of the Black Panther necklace,” Ramonda explained. “Something tells me it'll be more adequate.”
T’Challa smiled at his mother and placed the shorts aside. He took off his Black Panther necklace, left it on the bed, and leaned forward. Ramonda placed the vibranium beads on his neck and kissed her son's forehead.
“I pray for Bast to guide you, my son.” She once again caressed his cheek before standing up. “I'll give you privacy so you can get ready.”
The king found himself once again alone. He undressed and tugged the white shorts on, making sure to tie the golden band tight so they wouldn't become an issue that could be deadly during the ceremony.
Once again, T’Challa stared at the gorilla statue, he guessed it was Hanuman. Someone knocked at the door.
“Come in.” T’Challa watched the door open and Okoye peeked in.
“Your majesty.” If T’Challa didn’t know better, he'd say Okoye looked worried, even scared. “It's time.”
T’Challa nodded, smiling gratefully, and motioned for her to leave before looking back at the statue. He turned on his heels, grabbing the Black Panther necklace from the bed before once again facing the statue. He looked at it, then at the necklace, then back at the statue, and moved closer. T’Challa had to stand on his tiptoes to be able to put the necklace on the statue of the gorilla god’s neck. He stepped back, admiring the contrast between the metal of the necklace and the wood.
The king took a deep breath and left his room, feeling a little more confident for some reason.