Adamantine (A Post-Black Panther Bucky Barnes Love Story)

20

It feels wrong.

It feels wrong to be standing here by Shuri and Ramonda's sides, stood before even the council members. It feels wrong to be cloaked in onyx fabric, listening as a funerary tune plays. It feels wrong to watch helplessly as the fallen king's body is laid before us.

I'm proud of Shuri. Even as her mother cries, even as she watches her best friend being laid to rest, even as she realizes the weight that now rests on her shoulders, she doesn't falter. Her face is stone, blank and strong and unyielding. She's a queen now, and she has a duty to remain strong.

I don't know how she's doing it. I'm used to showing no emotion, but she is not. But tragedy changes you. She's surely learned that by now.

Bucky is beside me, a comforting hand resting on the small of my back. His strength is what's keeping me from showing my grief. T'Challa and I may not have been overly close, but I know he meant a lot to Bucky. I respected him, and he trusted me with his family and his country.

I snap out of my thoughts when Shuri returns to my side from addressing her brother's body.

It's my turn now, I realize.

I step forward, bringing Bucky with me. He follows dutifully, and his touch is keeping me steady. We approach the dais T'Challa's body is resting on, and I swallow my emotion.

I reach toward him and carefully place a tiny obsidian panther figurine in his hand. I let my skin rest against his for a moment. The feeling of his cold flesh, the peaceful expression on his face, the carefully-positioned clothing meant to hide his wounds- it all makes my decision for me.

"I take vows very seriously," I murmur to him. "The one I made you was as good a vow as any. I won't let you down."

I press my lips together, and, with one last look, I step back. Bucky is silent for a moment. He looks at T'Challa with a sorrowful expression before quietly thanking him.

"Thank you," he whispers, "for giving me a chance. Thank you for giving me my life back."

T'Challa was a good man. He was a good king. And he is gone.

•••••

"What now?"

I sigh. Shuri's pacing around the room, desperately trying to figure out what comes next. T'Challa wasn't supposed to die. He didn't leave a plan. His funeral was only two days ago, yet we are back to work.

"Well," I begin slowly, thinking over everything I know of Wakandan politics, "have you addressed the council yet?"

"Yesterday," she sighs.

"And? What did they say?"

"They think I'm too young to rule," she rolls her eyes. "It's ridiculous."

"Does anyone plan to challenge you for the throne?" I ask, tilting my head. She shakes her head.

"No. They respected my brother too much to try that," she says. I nod.

"That lessens the complications," I offer. She shrugs. "Shuri, T'Challa wanted me to be your regent. Until you came of age. But I'm not sure your country or your elders would appreciate that."

Shuri barely looks at me. She scoffs. "He left no framework behind except for that decree. He insisted you remain here to help rule. Do you know why?"

I raise my eyebrows at her tone. I decide to excuse it for now, considering the circumstances.

"Because I was asked," I emphasize, narrowing my eyes at the young queen. "Believe me, Shuri, this isn't my first choice either. But I made a promise to your brother, and I intend on keeping my word."

She sighs heavily and drops down heavily in her seat. "I know. I'm sorry."

I nod in acceptance. "That's alright. But you know what we have to focus on now, right?"

Shuri looks at me curiously. "What?"

"Revenge."

••••••

Author's note:

Okay, hi everybody! I'm so sorry it's taken so long to update. I've had kind of a tumultuous few months health-wise, but I'm back! I'm working on a few other books as well (I have an Eternals fic out for anyone who's interested)! But this book should be updated far more regularly from now on :)

And no, I haven't seen WF yet, so we're just kinda ignoring whatever plot line that has.