Marvel Imagines

T'Challa Udaku - You're Highness

A/N: Oof, this is long overdue. Sorry it took so long to get a new chapter, but here it is!
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Warnings: lil' angst, lotta fluff
Note: takes place before Civil War
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As the prince(ss) of a small island nation just getting it's bearings in international trade, you were tasked with accompanying your father to a United Nations meeting. As his first born, you were to take the throne when he stepped down. He wanted to make sure you knew what you were doing.

Your peoples' culture was very rich, promoting both you and your father to wear traditional makeup despite the "professional" dress code. Both of you wore a suit. You were hoping someone from another country was also dressed according to their traditions. It was always awkward when you were the odd man out. You hadn't been to any of these meetings before, nor have you seen your father without his face paint at an important event. With that in mind, you expected mature responses from the adults at the conference.

You really should have figured they wouldn't be understanding.

At least five different people asked why you had the delicate designs painted on your skin. You were happy to explain yourself and the importance of the paint to your culture, but someone straight up stared you down like you were a demon which was bothersome.

"Is it always like this, Baba?" You whispered when one of the perpetrators walked away.

"Sadly, yes." He clapped you on the shoulder. "For the most part, they've gotten used to mine, but your style is so different."

"You mean my style is better," you snarked.

"For a warrior, you don't wear a lot of war paint," he countered. "Speaking of warriors, come with me. I want you to meet someone."

Across the room, two men stood next to a large window with a view over Vienna and a view of the setting sun. Gold and pink, purple, blue, and red all melted across the sky more pristinely than any artist could paint.

"King T'Chaka," your father called as you approached, "I have finally brought my eldest. I figured it was time for (him/her/them) to learn the ins and outs of a large scale meeting like this."

"And I have brought my son. It would seem we had the same idea." His smile was gentle and calm. "This is T'Challa."

"It is an honour to meet you," you replied with a shallow bow of your head and forearms crossed over your sternum.

"The pleasure is mine, your Highness." T'Challa returned the gesture. You shared a smile before all attendees were called to their seats.

***

Half a year passed before you next met T'Challa. After months of discussions and arduous corespondence, he visited your home.

"Your highness, it is good to see you again."

"How many times have I told you, the honour is always mine," T'Challa said with a warm smile.

"Our fathers are discussing business. Why don't I give you a tour while we wait?" You offered a more mischievous grin.

"I dont see what it could hurt."

First stop was the horse stables where you tried to convince T'Challa to ride. It took ten minutes for you to give up.
Next was a meadow. Flowers native only to your island sprouted for acres. Bursts of blue and pink meshed with vibrant golds, and reds, and purples. The setting sun basked the fields in an amber glow, and the sweet scent eased your muscles.

"Do you come here often?" T'Challa asked.

"Not really. I don't stand in the flowers most of the time." An idea popped into your head. "Follow me!" you called over your shoulder.

Racing across the meadow brought back memories of childhood and encouraged nostalgia to nip at your brain. You spared a few glances over your shoulder to see T'Challa keeping good pace.

You skidded to a stop at a cliff overlooking the ocean and another section of meadow.

"This is where I go." You smiled to T'Challa, who gazed at the scene in wonder.

"It is beautiful," he breathed.

You glanced at his hand, contemplating if you should do what you were thinking. Deciding that no harm could come from the action, you slid your hand into his.

His head moved slowly to look at you, and he looked confused. With heat moving to your cheeks, you tried to pull your hand away. T'Challa squeezed it as a sign that he didn't mind.

"I-" he stopped to think. "Nevermind."

"No, what's on your mind?"

T'Challa shuffled to stand in front of you and grabbed your other hand. His hands were smooth and warm. "I want to bring you to Wakanda."

"Why did you second guess yourself?"

"We don't let in outsiders. It is the law."

"Well, I guess we'll have to meet here until the laws change."

You both smiled at each other. The setting sun painted your skins hues of red and gold as you leaned in to kiss each other.