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Shuri woke to the feeling of hands on her body. Instinct demanded that she lash out - her legs even tensed in preparation - but training took over and she manage to quell the rash desire. Over the sound of her pounding heart, she could hear many footsteps. There were more men or women present than just the ones that were holding her limp body off the ground, likely too many for her to defeat. Especially if they had weapons, which they probably did. Her odds were lowered even further because of the fuzzy feeling in her head, evidence of drugs.

"Put the bitch in there," a male voice ordered.

"So close to - "

"What the fuck are they gonna do? Hurry up. We were supposed to be done by now."

The hands moved her forward, then gave her a hard shove. Shuri went sprawling, landing on her hands and knees before, thrown off by the weight of her body, she landed hard on her side. The impact was enough to make the breath rush out of her lungs. She gasped for a moment, raising her eyes to meet the faces of her kidnappers. Several sets of cold eyes stared at her from behind familiar masks. Her heart sank as she recognized the uniforms that Hydra soldiers always wore.

"Sorry the accommodations aren't what you're used to," the guy said. "But you'll just have to make do. We want your brother to do us some favors."

T'Challa. Of course that was their goal. "He won't do anything," Shuri said, getting back to her feet. She allowed herself to be clumsier than normal, playing up weakness for the benefit of her captors, but none of them seemed to be fooled. The heavy iron door shut in her face before she'd gotten off the floor.

"We'll see what he'll do once we start sending him pictures." And the guy might have been wearing a mask, but there was no mistaking the leer in his eyes.

"Why don't you take pictures of me?"

Shuri startled at the new voice, head jerking around. The speaker was, she realized, the man in the cell beside hers. He was hunched over on the floor, but now he uncurled and slowly stood. She recoiled in spite of herself, appalled at the sight of him. He'd obviously been here for a long time judging by his bushy and unkempt beard and moustache. His hair might have been black or dark brown once, but now it was almost all grey. Every inch of skin that she could see was bruised, bloodied, scratched or scabbed. He was skinny and small, about the same height as Shuri, and filthy, with a smell that made her eyes water.

"No one wants to see you," the lead guard sneered. "Don't make us come in there."

"I always welcome a visit from the world's most inept super villains" the other prisoner said.

The guard just snorted and spat on the floor in front of Shuri's cell. "Come on. Leave them both to rot."

She wouldn't rot, Shuri thought. She'd be more likely to freeze to death first. It was cold down here, a far cry from the warm Wakandan sun, and she was only wearing a pink blouse and black dress pants. She had no idea where her suit jacket or heels had gone. A quick inventory lead her to realize she'd been searched while she was unconscious. Every weapon was gone, even the spiked straps she'd braided into her hair that morning. Her hair fell loosely around her shoulders now. Even her bra was gone.

"You shouldn't talk to them."

"What?" Shuri said, looking back at the other prisoner.

"You shouldn't talk to them. You should keep your head down and try to avoid notice."

"I'm sure they're going to notice me either way, and I might be able to bargain for my freedom," Shuri said.

He snorted. "The only thing they'll accept is making weapons, and I don't think a kid is going to know much about that."

It was on the tip of her tongue to inform that she'd created countless weapons. Her greatest treasure was the Black Panther suit that T'Challa wore. But she stopped herself. She didn't know who this man was. For all she knew, he could be on Hydra's side - a mole, put here to make her feel more at ease and spill details that Hydra could use against her and T'Challa at a later date. No, it was better to hold her tongue for now and fully assess the situation before she said or did something she would later regret.

She explored the cell instead of responding, not that there was much to really look at. It was small and bare, without even anything to sit on. The only piece of ‘furniture’ was a bucket in the corner of the room. Shuri wrinkled her nose at the thought of what it was to be used for. The smell would be strong considering at there were no windows, and even beyond the bars she couldn’t make out any natural light.

She tested the bars by shaking them, but, considering how rusted they looked, they were surprisingly strong and didn’t move. Even T’Challa would’ve had difficulty getting past without the Panther suit. She looked at the door next, hoping that there might be some way to pick the lock, but it was biometric. Of course it was. There were ways of fooling that and getting past, but she needed tools that she didn’t have.

Thwarted for the moment, she took a seat in the corner furthest from the door. The floor was cold through the thin material of her dress pants, but sitting would help to conserve her strength. She crossed her legs and waited. In the cell beside her, the skinny man sighed and shuffled around for several minutes before going quiet. In the dim light, she could just make out that he’d lain down on the floor and looked to be asleep.

Time passed slowly. Shuri meditated and tried not to sleep, not wanting to let her guard down. They came for her what felt like several hours later, roughly dragging her out of the cell. They blindfolded her and then escorted her down a hall, up several flights of stairs, and down another hall. She memorized the route in her mind, fixating on spots where she felt fresh air.

She was stood against a wall and told to read from a newspaper. Shuri stared at them defiantly, keeping her mouth shut. The lead guard slapped her across the face and then, when she still wouldn’t read, slapped her again and kneed her in the stomach. They took her picture instead, while she was doubled over in pain, and then hauled her back downstairs.

“Are you okay?” the skinny man asked when they were gone.

“Fine,” Shuri said, tasting blood. The slaps had re-opened a cut on her lip. She licked her lips and touched her cheek, feeling fresh swelling.

“You don’t look fine.” His face appeared against the bars that separated them, looking concerned.

“Why do you care?” she asked bluntly.

“Because you’re a kid and Hydra kidnapped you?” he said, making it sound like a question. “Who wouldn’t be concerned? I’ve been here for…” He trailed off. “Wait, what’s the date?”

Against her better judgment, she told him. His whole face sagged once he heard, body crumbling in on itself like he was expecting a blow. Shuri actually felt a flicker of pity, which she hastily squashed.

“Almost five months,” he said quietly. “I’ve been here almost five months. Son of a bitch.”

“Five months?” Shuri said, both eyebrows shooting up. Did Hydra have such long-term plans for her? Probably.

He nodded, leaning against the bars again. “Tell me something about the world. I don’t care what.”

It was an unusual question, but then again Shuri supposed he wouldn’t have received much information from Hydra. She thought for a moment. He didn’t seem to know who she was, which wasn’t surprising: it was only in the past six or seven months that Wakanda had opened their doors. T’Chaka, and T’Challa as the crown prince, were the only ones who were really known before that. And Shuri herself still wasn’t known very well because she was only sixteen. She wouldn’t really begin participating in politics and the like until she was of age.

She decided to keep it that way. The less people who knew who she was, the better. “Pym Technologies released a new paper about nanotechnology.”

His brown eyes brightened. “Really? Did Hope van Dyne spearhead it?”

Pleased, Shuri nodded and began to tell him about the paper. She’d thought it was fascinating and wondered if there could potentially be new applications for the Panther suit, though of course Pym Technologies was keeping a lot of their core information under wraps for now. She was hoping that at some point T’Challa would extend an invitation for Hope van Dyne to visit Wakanda.

The paper sparked a lively conversation about the future of nanotechnology. The skinny man was very smart, though not as smart as Shuri. She tried to keep her contribution from becoming too over-the-top, because the average sixteen-year-old wouldn’t be that interested in this kind of stuff. It was hard though. It was rare that she found someone who could easily keep up with her. Just who was the skinny man?

“What’s your name?” Shuri asked, somewhat abruptly.

“Why do you want to know?”

“Because I’ve been calling you the skinny man in my head.”

He squeaked in outrage. “I am not skinny! I’ll have you know I am muscle through and through.” He held up his arm and flexed his bicep. Shuri squinted at him. She could see where there might have been muscle tone, but he’d been here for long enough that a lot of that had degenerated. In all honesty, he looked like he needed a good meal and a peaceful sleep. Preferably in the sun.

“My name is Shuri,” she said, deciding it was better to not give her opinion on just how skinny he looked. “And yours?”

“Edward,” he said, with just enough of a pause that led her to wonder whether that was his real name. Probably not. She’d probably been a fool for giving him hers. Nakia would scold her for the mistake.

The thought of Nakia made her eyes burn with tears that she quickly blinked away. Tears had no place here. If she thought for a second that crying would soften the heart of her captors, she would’ve thrown herself at their feet in tears if only for the chance to knock them all off balance and escape. But she had been taught better than that. The guards would only mock her tears and treat her the more harshly for them.

Edward seemed to sense her change in mood. He pulled back from the bars. “You will get out of here, Shuri,” he said softly. “I give you my word.”

Their days fell into something of a haze after that. It was next to impossible to keep track of time with no windows. There was no rhyme or reason to food. Sometimes trays would appear, shoved through the doors, very close together. At other times, her stomach would be cramped with hunger before a tray would come. Sometimes the food would be palatable and at other times barely edible, but at least water was always included.

They came for Edward three times; each time he was returned even more beat up than before. They dragged Shuri from her cage twice more, but only to have her picture taken. She wondered during those times how T’Challa and their mother had taken the news of her disappearance. They must have been searching for her. She had every confidence that they would find her. And then Hydra would burn.

The fourth time the guards came for her, something was different. They were angry. She could tell by the way they stood and walked. The hair on the back of her neck rose as a shiver ran down her spine. This wasn’t for any photograph. The moment the door was open, the lead guard elbowed her in the face. She fell back against the wall, startled by the pain, as blood poured down her mouth and chin.

“Hey!” Edward barked, surging forward. “Leave her alone!”

“Fuck off,” the lead guard grunted.

“She’s just a kid!” Edward snapped. “If you want to beat on something, beat on me.”

“I don’t need your help,” Shuri said, or tried to stay. Edward was insulting the guards at a louder volume than she’d thought him capable of, practically shrieking. It didn’t take long for the lead guard to lose his temper.

“Forget the bitch. Grab him!”

Shuri was pushed back, her cell door slammed shut, and the guards took Edward from his. For once he didn’t fight them, was actually docile as they hustled him out the door. She stared after them, absentmindedly wiping blood from her face, wishing that she had water to clean herself properly. No, better yet that she could kick the door down and free Edward and herself.

He was gone for a long time. She fell asleep and woke up to the guards literally throwing Edward back into his cell. He hit the floor with a quiet sound of pain and didn’t move. Shuri stayed back until she was sure that the guards were gone, and then she stepped forward. She couldn’t reach him. Couldn’t staunch the bleeding or put his head in her lap. Couldn’t even dribble some water down his throat.

So she talked instead. She told him about the world – about new scientific and medical advancements they hadn’t discussed yet, about politics, about the news, about the good and bad that had happened in the world since he’d been captured – and about her family, though she was careful to keep the details scant and referred to T’Challa only as her brother. She talked about her latest experiment which had exploded in a fiery mess, and about learning to fight and how much she had loved it as a child, and about what her home was like. That made her homesick, so she switched the topic to how she was planning to burn down Hydra’s prison.

That roused a weak chuckle out of Edward. “With my blessing,” he murmured against the floor.

“You’re alive,” Shuri said, unable to keep the relief from her voice. She hadn’t consciously realized it before, but their chats were keeping her sane. She’d long since stopped thinking that Edward was a mole. No one who smiled the way he did when they talked about their ex-girlfriend, or who looked so worried when talking about their recently handicapped best friend, could work for Hydra.

“Barely. Currently wishing big time that I wasn’t.” He carefully tipped his head to look in her direction, but his eyes were unfocused and she was pretty sure he couldn’t actually see her. There was a huge lump on his right temple. Swelling and bruising made it look painful. Her fingers ached with the urge to put ice on it. She wasn’t used to having sit by and do nothing when people needed her help. It had been instilled in her from birth that keeping her people alive and safe was her responsibility.

Wait. Her thoughts drew to a halt. When had she started thinking of Edward as one of her own?

"Are you okay?"

The question pulled Shuri's attention back to him immediately. "What?"

He coughed for a few seconds, deep-chested, rattling coughs that sent flecks of blood across the floor. "Are you okay?" he gasped out when he was finished.

"I'm fine. They didn't touch me. But you..." She put her hand against the bars. "You don't look good."

"Never better," Edward muttered. He gave a breathless wheeze that might have been a laugh. "Just gonna... close m'eyes for a bit. You scream if they come back, y’here? I'll kick their asses." His eyes slid shut, head lolling back towards the floor. Hair fell over his face.

"You'll be lucky to survive the night," Shuri whispered, but he couldn't hear her. She ground her teeth together with frustration. Knowing that there was nothing she could do to help was maddening.

Perhaps her prayers were heard that night, or maybe it was a stroke of incredibly good fortune (she was certainly due some). The first explosion rattled the floor what she would guess was several hours later. Shuri, who was curled up in the corner, sat straight up. She stared through the dim light at the door where the guards always came from.

There was a second and third explosion, very close together, and then screaming. She’d never considered herself to be bloodthirsty, but she smiled at the sound. She hoped whoever was attacking the building was killing every Hydra agent they came across.

Edward moaned. Shuri lurched forward, her heart stuttering. He’d been so quiet over the past little while, even the sound of his haggard breaths dying away, that she’d thought –

The door cracked open, letting more light spill into the prison. The person who stepped inside was initially just a silhouette, and one that she couldn’t look at for too long because the light made her eyes ache. More people stepped inside, following the first person. When the door was pushed partially shut, her eyes adjusted and she was able to make out the Black Panther at the same time as he spoke.

“Shuri?”

“T’Challa,” Shuri said, the word more a sigh of relief than anything.

He crossed to the bars and drew his hand back, easily slicing through the lock. It fell to the floor in pieces and T’Challa dragged the door open. Shuri launched herself through the door and into his arms, hugging him as tightly as she could. He hugged her back, an embrace so strong that her ribs ached. Over his shoulder she saw Okoye and Ayo, and could’ve cried with relief.

“Are you okay?” Ayo asked. Her lips thinned out when she saw Shuri’s bruised face.

“I’ll be better once I’m home,” Shuri admitted.

“Then let us leave now, before reinforcements come,” said T’Challa, gently gripping her arm.

“No, wait. We can’t leave without Edward.”

“Edward?” Even behind the mask, she could tell T’Challa’s expression was one of pure confusion. Shuri turned and pointed, her alarm increasing when she saw that Edward hadn’t moved or reacted to their saviors.

“Do you know him?” Okoye asked.

Shuri shook her head. “No, but he protected me. Several times. He distracted the guards so that they would attack him instead.” Much to her embarrassment, her voice cracked. T’Challa’s hand immediately tightened on her arm.

“We will bring him,” he said.

“Highness, he could be –” Ayo began.

“You will keep guard until we can figure out who he is. But I will not leave anyone behind who helped to protect my sister.” T’Challa’s voice allowed for no arguments. Shuri had never loved him more. She sank against him in gratitude as Ayo destroyed the lock on Edward’s cage. She stepped inside, one sword drawn, but Edward didn’t move. When Ayo knelt and put a hand on his shoulder, rolling him over, his eyes were still shut.

“He is barely breathing,” said Ayo. “He needs medical attention immediately.” She sheathed her sword. Okoye entered the cell and helped to lift Edward onto Ayo’s shoulders in a fireman’s carry.

“He is very light,” Okoye remarked.

“He’s been here for… How long was I gone?” Shuri asked.

“Over a month,” said T’Challa.

A month. Shuri tried not to react. “He’s been here for six months,” she said, returning her attention to Edward. That was safer for now. “And they did not feed us well. He’s also been tortured regularly. I don’t know exactly what they did to him –”

“Then let us go quickly so that our doctors can begin attending to him sooner,” Okoye said. “I’ll go first.” Her smile was quick and cruel. “I would love to meet these guards.”

But they didn’t meet anyone on their way out of the building. Shuri saw signs of slaughter everywhere she looked and credited that to the Dora Milaje, not her brother. A small part of her was ruthlessly glad to see it. That part of her wanted all of Hydra to suffer as she and Edward had suffered, and was only sorry that their deaths had been quick.

There was a sleek jet waiting outside. A doctor immediately took over Edward’s care, barking medical terminology at two nurses. Another nurse took Shuri inside and sat her down in a chair, giving her a bottle of water before starting an examination. Shuri stalled it, leaning over to look out the window. She was flushed with vindictive pleasure as she watched the Hydra prison explode beneath them.

“How long until we reach Wakanda?” she asked her nurse.

“The flight should last about five hours, Highness. May I take some blood samples?”

“Do whatever necessary,” Shuri said, leaning back against the chair. Her adrenaline was dying now that she knew she was safe, but she had one more thing to say. “T’Challa?”

“Yes?” He was by her side immediately, mask pulled down. It was so good to see his face.

“That is your future consort,” she said, pointing to Edward.

T’Challa actually choked. “W-what?”

“I’ve decided. He is educated and intelligent, resourceful and kind, and he will be a good leader and husband to you,” Shuri said matter-of-factly. “You will love and care for him, and you will be married.”

Her brother was, apparently, too flabbergasted to respond. Good. Shuri liked that she could still shock the hell out of him, especially since she wasn’t lying: T’Challa would care for Edward the way he deserved, and in return she was positive Edward would adore her brother. She curled up in her chair and, ignoring the nurse’s protests, went to sleep. Or maybe passed out, who knew.

She regretted not being awake when they landed in Wakanda, because her first sight of home was of the white ceiling of the medical bay. But her second was of her mother, and that was more than okay. Shuri sat up, ignoring the pain, and hugged Ramonda desperately. She was not ashamed of the tears that came, nor the sobs that she couldn’t stop. Ramonda shushed her, though she was crying as well.

“I’m so glad you’re safe,” Ramonda whispered. “For a while, I feared…” She trailed off, which was unlike her, but she was unable to voice all the fears that had gone through her head.

“I know. I thought the same,” Shuri said into her mother’s shoulder, shuddering. She’d tried not to think about not seeing her brother or mother again, but those thoughts had crept into her mind anyway. “Thank you for finding me.” She pulled away so that she could see Ramonda’s face again, craving the sight of it.

“You can thank your brother. He never gave up hope. He was relentless.” Ramonda’s smile was watery. “He pursued every lead, no matter how small.” Her hands cupped Shuri’s face. “Thank the goddess that he found you before anything terrible happened.”

“To me, anyway,” Shuri said, suddenly remember. “What of Edward?”

“Ah, yes. Your friend. He is here as well. The doctor said you could stand and walk for brief periods of time, but that you were to sit as soon as you felt fatigued.” Ramonda stood and fetched slippers for Shuri to slide her feet into, then helped her to sit up. Shuri was a little dizzy, but she pushed it aside. With her mother’s support, she swung her feet off the bed and then carefully stood.

“How long was I out for?” Shuri asked. Someone, hopefully her mother or a nurse, had bathed her while she was unconscious. Her ripped and stained clothing was gone, probably burned. In their place, she was wearing her favorite set of pajamas: a pair of light purple shorts and a white t-shirt. Out of curiosity, she reached up to touch her hair and was relieved to find that had been washed as well.

Ramonda considered the question. “The jet arrived early this morning and it’s just after 2pm, so approximately ten hours, maybe? You didn’t have a concussion, so the doctor said to let you sleep until you woke on your own.”

Shuri nodded as her mother pulled aside a curtain to reveal Edward. Her eyes widened and she sucked in a breath at the sight of the nude man in front of her. He’d been bathed as well, but that had only revealed the extent of the injuries. Both of his legs were in casts, as was his right arm. His torso was fully bandaged from hips to chest, and so were both shoulders. More bandages littered his throat, face, hands and feet. A nurse was just smoothing a butterfly bandage over his forehead.

“He had to have emergency surgery because he was bleeding internally, and he may need more surgeries in the future,” Ramonda said quietly. “The doctors tell me that he should live, but they have some pressing questions for him. They couldn’t tell me much more, but apparently his medical history must be a curiosity.”

“But he will be okay?” Shuri asked.

“In time, he should be,” the nurse said, looking over at her. “He’ll require physical therapy. He may walk with a limp after this, but he’s lucky to be able to walk at all.”

“He walked in the cage,” Shuri said, remembering. “But he had to lean against the bars.” She’d thought it was deliberate at the time, a show to gain her trust, but the nurse was shaking her head.

“He probably had to. He must’ve been in excruciating pain, poor thing. Some of these wounds are months old. The doctor had to re-break his right arm because the bones had grown together wrong.”

“He still protected me,” Shuri whispered, blinking hard. Edward had brought more pain on himself to protect her. “Do we know who he is yet?”

“No. His Majesty did not want tests run. He said that Hydra had this man for a reason and did not want to open us up to potential other threats. He requested that we wait for him to wake up and identify himself. If he can’t, then we’ll turn to fingerprints or D.N.A.”

As she spoke, the nurse was pulling out a bowl of shaving cream and a razor. “We need to shave him to make sure we haven’t missed an injuries,” she explained.

“We understand,” Ramonda said, squeezing Shuri’s hand. “Is it alright if we stay?”

“Of course.”

“Sit Shuri, Dear,” Ramonda said, taking a seat herself. Shuri obeyed, keeping her eyes on Edward’s face. She felt strangely protective of him now that their positions were reversed: she was determined to make sure that nothing and no one hurt him anymore. He would live a good life in Wakanda, if nothing else.

As T’Challa’s consort. Her face flushed as she remembered what she’d said to her brother, words spoken too hastily thanks to a combination of an adrenaline crash and relief from being rescued. But now, even slightly more rested… so long as Edward turned out to be a good man with the right kind of background, she was convinced that there was merit in the idea.

About halfway through the shave, Ramonda suddenly gave a quiet gasp. “Oh my.”

“What?” Shuri asked, alarmed.

Ramonda was quiet for a moment, staring intently at Edward, before she responded. “There is no need to wait for him to wake. I know who he is.”

“Who?”

“That’s Tony Stark.”

“What?” Shuri gasped, turning back to him. The nurse had shaved about half the hair away and obviously hadn’t heard Ramonda’s comment. She shifted to the other side of the bed, leaving Edward’s face fully visible. And even though he was missing his trademark goatee, suddenly Shuri could see it.

Her mind raced. Tony Stark had been missing for just over five months when Shuri was kidnapped. Reports from his best friend indicated that Stark had last been seen heading for Siberia, and T’Challa had confirmed that Stark was there. But T’Challa hadn’t known what happened after he, Steve Rogers and James Barnes departed. T’Challa admitted he’d had no idea what kind of condition Stark was in, and neither Rogers nor Barnes were speaking on the subject.

So they’d left him there and Hydra had moved in, kidnapping him and subjecting him to months of torture. Shuri shifted in her seat as the first bloom of anger rushed through her, remembering the remark Edward – no, Stark had made about weapons. Of course. Everyone knew Stark’s past as the world’s finest weapons manufacturer. It made sense that Hydra would want his genius for their own.

She leaned back in her chair, trying to put what she knew of Tony Stark with the man who’d protected her. T’Challa had only ever said positive things about Stark. She even remembered teasing him about having a crush. T’Challa had protested, of course, though the blush on his cheeks gave him away. He’d made it clear that, whatever the press had to say, T’Challa respected the man that Stark had become.

Now, Shuri had to agree.

“Excuse me,” Ramonda said as the nurse was finishing up, “would you find my son immediately, please?”

“Of course, your Highness.” The nurse bowed slightly and, gathering up her supplies, left.

“What does this mean?” Shuri asked.

Ramonda was frowning. She picked up a towel and gently wiped a bit of shaving foam from Stark’s cheek. “Tony Stark has been missing for six months. No one knew where he was. Most people seem to think that he’s been hiding from the United Nations and the Accords council.”

“Did you think that was true?”

“I didn’t know enough of him to form an opinion one way or the other. T’Challa didn’t believe it, but he didn’t have much to go on. He regretted leaving Stark behind on that day.”

“He’ll regret it more now,” Shuri said softly – and rightfully so. She’d scolded her brother for leaving Stark behind. It didn’t matter that Stark had his armor and thus a way of escaping; it just wasn’t right, and their father would have been displeased. T’Challa would carry guilt over this for the rest of his life.

T’Challa entered a couple of minutes later, now dressed in one the black suits he typically wore for business. He stopped short in the doorway. “Is that -?”

“Tony Stark? Yes. Aren’t you glad we didn’t leave him behind again?” Shuri said. She was pleased when he winced a little.

“I don’t – how?” It was rare to see T’Challa at a loss for words. Twice in one day was an accomplishment Shuri wished she could’ve enjoyed more.

“Hydra. He said they wanted him to build weapons,” said Shuri. He must have wondered why Hydra had her too. He'd never asked. Maybe he'd correctly assumed that she was being held captive to keep someone else in line. Though she was pretty sure he'd never guessed that person was the King of Wakanda.

True rage swamped T’Challa’s face for a moment before he got himself under control, but the bright light of fury remained in his eyes. “From what I hear, Stark has been kidnapped for that reason before.”

Shuri dimly recalled hearing something about that, but she’d been very young at the time. She made a mental note to look it up later, but refused to be diverted for the moment. “You owe him a lot,” she informed her brother.

T’Challa swallowed. “I am aware. His suit must’ve been damaged too fly. I should have checked on him before we left.” His voice was heavy with regret. “I will make a sincere apology as soon as he’s awake.”

“You’re going to have to do a lot more than that. You have a lot of sucking up to do to your future consort,” Shuri said bluntly. Out of the corner of her eye, she watched Ramonda put a hand to her mouth and knew it was to hide an unexpected smile.

“I – w-what?” T’Challa stammered. “Surely you’re joking.”

“Nope, I’m not. I told you I’ve decided.” Shuri folded her arms, which actually hurt a lot. She refused to wince. It would’ve ruined the impact.

“You can’t just make that choice!” T’Challa protested.

“Yes I can. You told me when we were children that I could pick out your consort.”

“You were a child! You were upset because I’d been out on a date with someone you disliked!”

“And for good reason,” Shuri muttered. It had later come to light that woman had done some unscrupulous things in order to bring herself to the attention of the Royal Family, and she wasn’t the only one. T’Challa had ‘dated’ many of the men and women in Wakanda who were of age. Although most of them would have made a fine consort, none of them had been right for him. It was past time he began looking outside of Wakanda’s borders, and fortunately Shuri had found the right person for him.

“Mother,” T’Challa said, sounding desperate. “Please tell her how crazy this is.”

Ramonda didn’t even bother trying to hide her smile this time. “I would need to get to know Mr. Stark better, of course,” she said. “I’ve only met him once, and he was just a child at the time. But if he is even half the person Shuri says he is, and if he is anything like his mother, I have no objections to the marriage.”

“You don’t even know if he likes me!” T’Challa exclaimed.

“Everyone likes you,” Shuri pointed out, which was a fact that used to annoy her a lot. A lot of time had been dedicated to cultivating the art of diplomacy in T’Challa, as it wasn’t a gift he was naturally born with. Seeing her brother go from an awkward, shy man to one who could easily command a group of strangers and charm just about anyone he met hadn’t been easy for her, but she had to admit the skills served T’Challa well.

“That is true,” Ramonda agreed. “I have every faith that you would be able to persuade our Mr. Stark to date you.”

“I… Th-that's not –” T’Challa sputtered.

“Good, it’s settled,” Shuri said, rubbing her arms. In spite of the room's warmth, she was cold. “Please ask the doctor when Mr. Stark will wake.”

T’Challa looked from her to their mother and back again before silently retreating from the room, clearly deciding that it was wiser not to push the issue at the moment. Any trace of levity Shuri might’ve been feeling dissipated as she looked back at the silent, beaten body on the bed. Maybe Stark wouldn’t want to stay here. She could understand that, if that were the case. He'd been in captivity for over six months. He would probably want to go home as soon as he woke up.

"Are you well, my dear?" Ramonda asked.

For no reason at all, the question made Shuri's eyes fill with tears. She tried to hold back a sob and failed. Ramonda was in front of her immediately, wrapping her up in a warm hug. She smelled like her favorite perfume. It was a comforting scent, one that Shuri had missed it. She breathed it in as tears streamed down her cheeks. Six months. Shuri couldn't even begin to imagine. She'd only been gone for one and it felt like everything was unbearably different, even though - on the surface at least - nothing had changed.

T'Challa returned, looking alarmed when he noticed her tears. Shuri shook her head and stretched out a shaking hand, which he took. His hand was big and strong and comforting. "The doctor tells me that Mr. Stark has been put into a medically induced coma. They're very concerned about the internal bleeding he suffered and would like him to heal a bit more before they take him off. It will be at least a week."

"Will you sit with him?" Shuri asked, wiping her face with her free hand. Ramonda handed her a handkerchief, which helped. "I... I doubt he'll wake up, but I wouldn't want him to do it alone." Her voice quivered a little. She remembered how dreadful it had been waking up alone in the prison, and how comforting it had been when Edward - Stark had talked to her. She'd depended on his presence even more than she realized.

"I will," T'Challa promised. "I have a dinner meeting I can't miss, but I will stay here with him until then."

"And - the Avengers -"

Something in T'Challa's eyes hardened. "I have given strict instructions for Rogers and the others not to be permitted out of their rooms," he said tightly. "I have some questions for Stark. Depending on his answers, they may no longer be welcome here at all."

"Thank you," Shuri whispered, suddenly feeling fatigued. "Mama, would you help me back to my bed? Not the bed here. I want to sleep in my room."

"Of course," Ramonda said. She helped Shuri to stand, taking most of her weight. It was a long, slow trip back to Shuri's bedroom, a trip that would've normally taken no more than two minutes easily taking five or six. Shuri was completely drained by the time they got there, but it was worth it. She sank down onto her bed with a little moan of pleasure, having forgotten how good it could feel to have a mattress under her back.

But when her mother helped her to slide up the bed and lean against the pillows, Shuri realized just how big her room really. She had never really thought about it before - many of the bedrooms in the palace were of a similar size. But it was easily a dozen times bigger than her cell had been, and all of that wide open space seemed like it was too much.

"Would you ask Ayo to come stand watch?" Shuri asked. She felt a little silly as soon as she spoke, but Ramonda didn't seem to find anything unusual about the request.

"I will. I'm sure she won't mind. And you know there are guards right below your balcony." Ramonda leaned in and kissed her on the forehead. "Would you like me to stay until you fall asleep?"

"No, I'm okay," Shuri said, even though she really would've preferred that her mother stay. But that was childish, wasn't it? She was sixteen, not a little kid. And she was in the palace, which was the safest place in all of Wakanda. The only reason she'd been kidnapped in the first place was because she'd traveled to Paris with T'Challa. Hydra had grabbed her when she'd snuck out with a few friends.

"Alright. If you need me, just call."

Shuri watched as her mother left the room. The sound of the door closing was unnaturally loud to her ears. She laid back against the pillows and shut her eyes, but in spite of her exhaustion she found she couldn't sleep. The mattress was too soft, for one thing, and it was strange to be laying vertically. She was used to sleeping upright in a corner, never having been able to bring herself to lay down on the floor the way that Stark had. A breeze from a cracked window kept making her twitch; she was used to still, stale air. And even in the dark, there seemed to be too much light.

"This is foolish," she muttered, squeezing her eyes shut tighter. It took a very long time for her to fall asleep, and once she did she slept fitfully. She kept twitching awake, thinking that the shadows were reaching for her. The unnatural stillness of the room pressed on her from all sides. The last time she woke in a panic because she couldn't hear Stark's breathing, she gave up.

Ayo was standing outside the doors, as promised, and turned as soon as Shuri opened the doors. "My lady?" she asked.

"I can't sleep," Shuri admitted. "Would you... could you stand inside my room?"

"Of course." Ayo stepped inside and shut the doors. She resumed her position, arms crossed with one hand resting on her sword, back against the doors. Her hard gaze swept the room. With Ayo there, the shadows no longer felt intimidating. Shuri returned to her bed and, in spite of the mattress, was able to fall asleep more easily this time.

She woke when the sun was high in the sky, feeling more rested but still tired. She got up and showered, mindful of her bandages - what a treat it was to feel hot water again - and then dressed in her most comfortable clothing. Ayo escorted her to the dining room, where Ramonda was already eating. Seeing her mother sitting there waiting for her, like everything was normal, was almost enough to bring Shuri to the point of tears again. She fought it back, breathing deep to keep her emotions at bay as she sat.

"I hear Ayo watched over you last night," Ramonda said, sipping her tea.

Shuri nodded as a maid brought her what used to be her normal breakfast: fruit salad, toast, juice, and tea. It was way more than she was used to eating, delicious as it looked, and she felt overwhelmed. She tried to hide it, adding milk to her tea. "Yes. I couldn't sleep. I'm used to hearing Stark breathing in the cell next to mine."

Ramonda's face twisted. "Oh, Shuri. I'm so sorry. I didn't even think -"

"It helped when I had Ayo inside my room," Shuri said.

"I'm sure it did. Would you like to sleep with me tonight?"

Surprised by the offer, Shuri paused. "Maybe. I'll see tonight." Because as much as she wanted to say yes, she'd also had a lot of nightmares. She didn't want her mother to see her wake up screaming.

"T'Challa suggested something to me this morning," Ramonda said slowly.

"Where is he?"

"With Stark. He claims it's because you made him promise, but I suspect otherwise." Ramonda smiled thinly. "He thinks you should see a therapist, and so do I."

Shuri blinked at that. It wasn't unexpected in a way, and she supposed that she shouldn't be surprised. T'Challa had started attending therapy after what happened with Barnes, saying that he needed the help of an unbiased third party to better understand what had come over him after T'Chaka's death. He needed someone who could help him keep his way when all of Wakanda was depending on him the most. She was pretty sure that Ramonda had also attended some sessions to help with the loss of her husband. Only Shuri hadn't, as she'd thrown herself into improving the Panther suit.

"I'm not crazy," she said cautiously.

"Of course you're not crazy. But you have been through something that's very traumatic. You were kidnapped and kept for four weeks, Shuri. Anyone would need professional help after that. I just want to make sure that you have everything you need to cope with what happened. I decided last night that I was going to ask for more sessions, too. Your brother never stopped going, but I did." Her mother's hand trembled faintly as she touched Shuri's arm. "I keep thinking that I'm going to wake up and you'll be gone again."

"Oh, Mama." Shuri put her hand over Ramonda's. "I'll never sneak out again."

Ramonda shook her head. "It wasn't your fault, my spark. Never think that way. It was Hydra's fault."

"I know it was," Shuri whispered, a lump in her throat. She did know that, but the gnawing sense of guilt in her belly said otherwise. "I think... the therapy is probably a good idea."

"I'll set you up tomorrow," Ramonda promised, smiling.

A week to the day after Shuri had her first therapy session, the doctors decided to bring Stark out of the coma. Shuri and T'Challa were both there. Stark was eased off of the medications and given the time to wake on his own. Which he did, with a very violent start. He bolted halfway up in the middle and then let out a cry of pain that broke Shuri's heart. He fell back, eyes darting around the room with a look of panic - panic that only increased when all he saw were strangers. Shuri rushed to his side, T'Challa reaching his opposite side at the same moment.

"Mr. Stark! Tony! It's okay," Shuri said, grabbing his hand carefully. "My brother rescued us. You remember him, don't you? T'Challa? The King of Wakanda? Black Panther?"

Stark stared at her, whites showing around his eyes. "... Kid?" he asked after a long pause. "Shuri?"

"Yeah, it's me. I know I look different. I'm not bloody or dirty anymore." Shuri tried to smile, feeling her eyes well up. The therapist had told her that was normal, and that crying at random, odd times was nothing to be ashamed over. Shuri hadn't decided whether she agreed, but it wasn't like she could control the crying.

"You're T'Challa's sister?" Stark repeated blankly.

"Yes," T'Challa said, and Stark's head whipped around.

"... Kitty cat?" he asked after a long, disbelieving pause. T'Challa's cheeks flushed. Shuri bit her lip to keep from laughing even while she was trying not to cry.

"Yes," T'Challa said, trying to sound dignified. "You are in my home, Mr. Stark. You're safe here, you have my word."

Stark looked between them, then beyond them at the doctors. "What happened?"

T'Challa explained the rescue mission. Shuri was pleased to let him do it. She'd always found T'Challa's deep voice soothing to listen to, and Stark seemed to feel the same way. As T'Challa told him how they'd figured out where Shuri was, a doctor was able to get close enough to Stark to do a quick examination. Stark tensed up a lot, but as long as T'Challa was speaking he didn't freak out again. His grip on Shuri's hand was very tight as well, but Shuri didn't mind. It was so nice to finally be able to touch him.

She hadn't known that T'Challa had barely slept while he was searching for her. She hadn't known that it was Okoye who had figured out it was Hydra, or that T'Challa and the Dora Milaje had visited three different locations trying to find her. She definitely hadn't known that it was Ramonda who had figured out exactly where Shuri was being held, or that it was Ramonda who had ordered Nakia to make sure the whole building blew up once Shuri had been rescued. Stark's already wide eyes went a little wider at that.

"My - my armor?" he asked, trying to reach for T'Challa with his still-in-a-cast right arm. He stopped short, a look of pain crossing his face. T'Challa solved the matter by reaching out and taking Stark's hand, easing his arm back against the bed.

"If it was there, it was destroyed in the blast," T'Challa said gently. "I had some of my best people go back and search the ruins. They didn't find anything related to the Iron Man armor. Once you're on your feet, you can have a look for yourself at what they found."

"Thank you," Stark said, looking a little overwhelmed. He turned his gaze back to Shuri. "Are you okay?"

Again he was showing more concern over her than himself. Shuri licked her lips, throat feeling dry. "I will be okay," she said carefully. "The scars were more emotional than physical, thanks to you."

"I didn't do anything," Stark said instantly.

"Yes you did. And I will never forget it. Thank you."

"You have my eternal gratitude as well," T'Challa added. "All of Wakanda is in your debt for protecting their princess."

Stark looked genuinely bewildered. "I didn't know she was your princess, or your sister."

"I know," T'Challa said gently. "That, more than anything, is why we are in your debt." There was something very soft and affectionate in his gaze as he looked at Stark. Shuri actually felt a little uncomfortable witnessing it. Had this been any other situation, she would've made a joke of some kind. But now wasn't the time. Stark looked close to panicking over the idea of having someone indebted to him, so the idea of being the King of Wakanda's future consort would probably give him a heart attack.

"I... no," Stark said in a small voice. His hand, still within Shuri's, trembled. "Have you - Rhodey?"

"We haven't contacted your friends, but I can do so immediately if you wish," T'Challa said. He glanced at Shuri, who understood: they would drop the matter for now, or at least until Stark was feeling better. It was a lot to unload on one person who had just woken up from a coma.

"Or you can go home," Shuri said, because she wanted Stark to know he wasn't being kept prisoner here. Wakanda would be a second home to him, hopefully, but never a prison. "If you prefer."

Stark opened and then closed his mouth. He didn't seem to know what to say. He looked back and forth between them like he was hoping one of them would tell him the right answer.

"You're more than welcome to stay," Shuri went on. "We have excellent doctors and physiotherapists here, and this way you can control how many people know you're back so you won't be bombarded. We can have anything brought in that you want or need." She sounded too eager. But she wasn't ready for Stark to leave, both because of T'Challa and for her own selfish reasons. She wanted him to stay.

"The doctors do recommend that you stay at least for a short time," T'Challa added. "You're not strong enough to travel yet, so you can decide later if you wish."

"I'll do that," Stark said, still looking a little confused. "Decide later, I mean. I would like to talk to Rhodey. Please."

"I'll get him on the phone immediately," T'Challa declared. He squeezed Stark's hand and then stood and strode out, leaving Shuri and Stark alone - knowing T'Challa, he would go one step further and have James Rhodes on a plane to Wakanda within the hour. Stark watched him go, eyebrows furrowed.

"He doesn't like feeling useless," Shuri said, and Stark looked at her instead. He cocked his head.

"I know the feeling."

"So do I," Shuri admitted shyly. She was still holding his hand and didn't want to let go. "So your name isn't Edward."

He actually smiled. Just a little, but it was still a smile. "No, sorry. It's Tony."

"Tony," Shuri repeated. "Thank you. I mean it."

"I'm a superhero," Tony said, trying to shrug and grimacing. "It's what we do."

"It's what you do," Shuri corrected, delighted when he blushed. He realized he was blushing, sputtered a bit, and ended up blushing even harder. He was like an adorable kitten, she thought, and couldn't help smiling back.

Definitely future consort material.