Killmonger's One-Shot Collection

Long Live the King, Part 2

The worst part? Part of you is ready to do it again. He warned you against crossing a line you'd regret. Now, every time he licks his lips...

"What do you think," one of the scientists asks. You don't recall the question.

"She's a little tired from coaching me all day," Killmonger covers, gesturing to Aneka. "Would you make sure she gets somewhere to rest."

You leave with Aneka and ignore her concerned questioning.

"Are you going to ignore us forever?"

"Yes," you nod, then continue brooding as if she isn't there. Every now and then, you fall into a grief that's hard to pull yourself out of, but now you've added guilt.

"Not today, not now," your leg rocks. You tell yourself to pull it together. You have more responsibility now. You're an advisor. You need to be sharp. Get it together.

After regrouping, you're able to return and hear explanations of the new weaponry and armored suits. T'Challa used to handle this with his little sister. You were never this involved, with anything, really. You barely recognize yourself these days.

At the palace, you walk the courtyard for some air and think about T'Challa. What would he say to this new Queen? 'You're much harder on yourself than I ever was' sounds like him. You smile with sadness. You've been lonely, and loneliness will make anyone do things they typically wouldn't, like having sex with your husband's killer. You imagined T'Challa all three times and the time before that when you received oral sex. It made sense in your head, but no one would understand. No one could know.

◇

Watching you from an above-floor window, Erik glows in his accomplishments. You've been losing focus but ultimately falling in line. The Queen at his side brings a legitimacy to his rule that ritual combat alone does not. With you there, people move easier, more willing to comply. They see you and feel safer, more trusting of him.

At his desk, he inks out more of his plan to turn wardogs into agents who will topple their respective countries from the inside using chaos tactics as he's been taught. Blood, trickery, and deception in trade for global freedom. Wakanda will be the new Mecca.

As soon as you come back in, he can bring you up to speed and ease you gently into his real plan. Bit by bit.

Signing off, he sets it aside.

"Has the queen returned yet," he asks Ayo who mans the door. She comes inside to check, looking out the window.

"No, she is outside."

"What's she doing?"

"Just... lying on her back in the grass."

"Go get her," he nods.

"Yes, my king."

◇

"You sent for me?" You enter the office and your eyes zero in on the walls. Your jaw drops.

"You're quick."

Your head tilts as you try to comprehend what you're seeing and why. You close your eyes, and they open on Killmonger.

"The past kings' pho-tos are miss-ing," you say very slowly, looking at that face of pure ignorance and disregard. "Namely, my hus-band's."

That was the first spot your eyes traveled. There's no reason for him to take that specific one down. He knows how important T'Challa's presence is to you.

"Where did you put it?"

"Oh, right here. Just some redecorating."

He produces the frame, pulling it from under his desk and presenting it to you.