Title: Damage
Fandom: MCU
Characters: M'Baku and Okoye
Disclaimer: I own nothing to do with Marvel. It's not my toy box and I'm merely playing.
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Post Infinity War. M'Baku and Okoye try to deal with the aftermath.
A/N: Written for the 400 for 40 challenge my writer's group is doing. Also written for the
100_fandom challenge prompt wallow. Possible Endgame spoilers.
Damage:
M’Baku stands in front of the throne and forces himself to be still, he cannot betray how weary the empty sight makes him. He is possibly the only one left, anyone that could challenge him is either too old or too young. Okoye approaches slowly. He glances at her. “Don’t say it. This is not what I wanted.”
“I said nothing,” she reminds, but there is a glint in her eyes.
“Shuri?” he asks, even though he’s sure he already knows the answer.
She shakes her head. “No one saw her turn to dust, but we can’t find her.”
He turns and takes in the whole throne room, making sure that they’re alone, then pauses to regard the throne again. He runs a hand down his face.
“Not what you wanted?” she prods.
“If I had won that challenge…” he starts.
She raises her eyebrows, a clear reminder that he didn’t, and he smiles slightly in answer.
Than he sighs, “I would have learned and I’d have appreciated it, but challenging T’Challa was more about making sure my people’s way of life would be respected, that even though we isolate ourselves we are still part of Wakanda. I needed to know that he would consider my people before he made decisions, even if we weren’t going to be included in those decisions, but then he found a way to do what no one else before him had done, make us feel comfortable including ourselves and weighing in on those decisions. He is a great king.”
“Was,” Okoye interjects. Her tone causes his heart to sink. He takes a deep breath because he can’t afford to wallow.
“No. This is temporary.”
Her voice loses all sympathy as she tells him, “This is not temporary.”
“We have not finished taking stock. Perhaps we will find Shuri or Nakia, no one has reported seeing them turn to dust. I understand tradition, my people’s way of life, some of this technology is beyond what I know.”
“I know who can advise you,” Okoye reassures. “And despite our smaller numbers I know the Dora Milaje.”
“I would be grateful, but I must ask a favor.”
She raises her eyebrows.
“I would have you and someone you’d trust leaving in charge to advise me. When the Avengers are done grieving, I want you to be our representative to help them right this wrong.”
“Yes,” she agrees.
Fandom: MCU
Characters: M'Baku and Okoye
Disclaimer: I own nothing to do with Marvel. It's not my toy box and I'm merely playing.
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Post Infinity War. M'Baku and Okoye try to deal with the aftermath.
A/N: Written for the 400 for 40 challenge my writer's group is doing. Also written for the
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Damage:
M’Baku stands in front of the throne and forces himself to be still, he cannot betray how weary the empty sight makes him. He is possibly the only one left, anyone that could challenge him is either too old or too young. Okoye approaches slowly. He glances at her. “Don’t say it. This is not what I wanted.”
“I said nothing,” she reminds, but there is a glint in her eyes.
“Shuri?” he asks, even though he’s sure he already knows the answer.
She shakes her head. “No one saw her turn to dust, but we can’t find her.”
He turns and takes in the whole throne room, making sure that they’re alone, then pauses to regard the throne again. He runs a hand down his face.
“Not what you wanted?” she prods.
“If I had won that challenge…” he starts.
She raises her eyebrows, a clear reminder that he didn’t, and he smiles slightly in answer.
Than he sighs, “I would have learned and I’d have appreciated it, but challenging T’Challa was more about making sure my people’s way of life would be respected, that even though we isolate ourselves we are still part of Wakanda. I needed to know that he would consider my people before he made decisions, even if we weren’t going to be included in those decisions, but then he found a way to do what no one else before him had done, make us feel comfortable including ourselves and weighing in on those decisions. He is a great king.”
“Was,” Okoye interjects. Her tone causes his heart to sink. He takes a deep breath because he can’t afford to wallow.
“No. This is temporary.”
Her voice loses all sympathy as she tells him, “This is not temporary.”
“We have not finished taking stock. Perhaps we will find Shuri or Nakia, no one has reported seeing them turn to dust. I understand tradition, my people’s way of life, some of this technology is beyond what I know.”
“I know who can advise you,” Okoye reassures. “And despite our smaller numbers I know the Dora Milaje.”
“I would be grateful, but I must ask a favor.”
She raises her eyebrows.
“I would have you and someone you’d trust leaving in charge to advise me. When the Avengers are done grieving, I want you to be our representative to help them right this wrong.”
“Yes,” she agrees.
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