Divided |2|

eight

Victoria stood, arms crossed, in front of the window – looking out at Vienna's view.

She was dressed in a simple, white jumpsuit. After her confrontation with Pietro a couple of days ago, she put on her most fake brave face for the world to see. She already had reporters try to interview her when she arrived, but she was able to dodge their imposing nature and enter the large building.

"Rough couple of days?"

Victoria jumped slightly, turning her head to her right where the voice came from. There was a man standing beside her, his head turned to the window too.

"Pardon me?"

He gave a small smile, turning to look at her fully. "You are frowning at the glass as if there was a speck of dust bothering you."

"Oh," Victoria blushed, tightening her ponytail. "Yes, it has been a rough couple of days I suppose."

"For you and me both, Miss Barton." She tilted her head slightly, questioning him with her eyes. "King T'Chaka, at your service."

"Oh my gosh." Victoria gasped, bending to curtsy. "Your Majesty, I—"

"—Do not worry, Victoria. It's perfectly fine."

"I've never met royalty before! Do I curtsy before you? Should I look into your eyes? Speak only when spoken to?" She paused, glancing at his son who chatted with Natasha a little away from them. "Should I curtsy before your son?"

"I'm sure T'Challa would murder me if I asked that of you." He let out a small chuckle, and placed a hand on her shoulder. "Thank you for helping those you did in Lagos."

"I was just doing my job. I'm sorry what happened did happen."

"That's why the accords are a must." When Victoria didn't answer, he gestured to where his son stood. "Come."

They walked to where the other pair were conversing. Victoria took in T'Challa's appearance, damn he was pretty.

"—two people in a room can get more done than a hundred."

"Unless you need to move a piano," T'Chaka interjected.

"Father."

"Son," he paused, gesturing to Victoria. "This is Miss Barton, she helped heal those she could in Lagos."

Don't curtsy. Don't curtsy.

"Pleasure to meet you, Miss." T'Challa took her hand and left a gentle kiss on it. Victoria nodded, smiling.

T'Chaka looked at Natasha. "Miss Romanoff."

"King T'Chaka. Please, allow me to apologize for what happened in Nigeria."

"Thank you. Thank you both for agreeing to all this. I'm sad to hear that Captain Rogers will not be joining us today."

"Yes, so am I."

"If everyone could please be seated. This assembly is now in session."

"That is the future calling," T'Challa smiled, placing a hand on Victoria's arm. "Such a pleasure."

"Likewise."

Natasha and Victoria left to go to their seats, and once settled Natasha leaned over to her. "You didn't correct them on your agreement of the accords."

"I'm not about to correct a Royal, thank you very much."

They hushed when T'Chaka took his place at the podium, while his son stood in front of the window beside him.

"When stolen Wakandan vibranium was used to make a terrible weapon, we in Wakanda were forced to question our legacy. Those men and women killed in Nigeria, were part of a goodwill mission from a country too long in the shadows. We will not, however, let misfortune drive us back. We will fight to improve the world we wish to join. I am grateful to the Avengers for supporting this initiative."

T'Challa spotted something outside, his body going rigid. He sent a quick glance to Victoria before turning back to the window as his father continued.

"Wakanda is proud to extend its hand in peace."

"EVERYBODY GET DOWN!"

An enormous explosion went off between two buildings and destroyed the conference hall.

Victoria was blown back, her body hitting the tables behind her with a sickening thud. She spotted T'Challa, who crawled to his father who was laying on the floor with his eyes closed. He grabbed his father's wrist and felt for a pulse, but his father lay still.

Victoria forced herself up and limps over to them. She moved to try and heal him but T'Challa shook his head, devastated. He lifted his father up and rocking him in his arms.

Victoria could feel her wounds healing internally, but her heart still broke as T'Challa sobbed. Natasha pulled the girl away, and led her to the door where paramedics and police burst in.

***

A little while later, Victoria spotted T'Challa, sitting on a bench looking stunned. There's a cut on his head. Victoria sat next to him, touching the cut gingerly. Within seconds, the cut healed. She removed her hands and looked down.

"Why didn't you let me try to save him?"

"I have been brought up with one view of death. It is peaceful." He twirled an ornate silver ring. "It shouldn't be interrupted or stopped just because there is opportunity to do so."

Natasha spotted the pair and sat on the next bench. "I'm very sorry."

T'Challa glanced at her before looking down at the ring again. "In my culture death is not the end. It's more of a... stepping-off point. You reach out with both hands and Bastet and Sekhmet, they lead you into the green veldt where... you can run forever."

"That sounds very peaceful."

"My father thought so." He put the ring on his finger. "I am not my father."

"T'Challa, task force will decide who brings in Barnes."

Victoria frowned at Natasha, standing up and walked away while pulling out her phone. She saw about a hundred missed calls and messages from her mom and dad, but she simply texted them back saying that she was fine and she'd call them later.

Just as she was about to call him, Steve's icon popped up. "Steve," she breathed. "Bucky."

"I know."

"You're here in Vienna, aren't you?"

"I'm getting information from Sharon, she works with the task force. I'm going to go and get him."

"Where do I meet you?"

"You can't do this Vic," Steve sighed. "You signed the Accords."

"I'm not signing, Steve."

There was a pause before Steve spoke again. "Your father wouldn't—"

"—What my father doesn't know, won't kill him."

"I'll text you the details. Stay safe."

He put down the phone. Victoria glanced to where T'Challa walked away and then to Natasha. The assassin's phone started to ring, and Victoria figured it was Steve. She walked to get a cab, and asked the driver to go to her hotel.

Once inside, she received a message from Steve. She pulled her bag out, changing into her gear and placing on a large hoodie over it. The one-word message Steve sent her made her uneasy.

Bucharest.