Chapter 2
PART II
Once T'Challa's senses return to him and he manages to stop screaming in horror, he rushes to Shuri's lab with Erik's broken body and begs her to heal Erik.
Warily, Shuri complies. She heals Erik of his mortal injuries and brings him back to consciousness in under an hour.
Upon waking, Erik, to his credit, doesn't waste time asking T'Challa how or why. He just gets straight to the point. Goes straight for the jugular.
"Fuck you!" Erik snarls at T'Challa, baring his teeth, the moment that he opens his eyes and sees T'Challa sitting beside his bed. The first words of his second life. Erik's hands clench into fists and he tries to lunge off the bed, but Shuri has injected him with a relaxant that prevents any large movements. Regardless, Erik's mouth still works. "That was a fucking low blow. That was totally dishonourable. Unfair! You're really fucked up, you know that? That didn't count. I demand a rematch."
Beside T'Challa, Shuri sputters in outraged disbelief.
T'Challa doesn't bother to defend himself or to reprimand Erik for his insults and ingratitude. In Erik's place, T'Challa would be enraged too.
"I meant it," T'Challa confesses instead, quietly.
Erik freezes, stunned, processing T'Challa's words.
"What the fuck?!" he exclaims at last. "I'm your cousin. I'm an alpha!" Erik's voice rises to a shout on the last word.
The note of outrage in Erik's voice makes T'Challa wince. T'Challa bows his head and looks down at his own hands, avoiding Erik's eyes. His guilty silence tells Erik all that Erik needs to know.
Shuri glances between the two of them, confused, aware that she's missing an important part of the conversation.
"I am sorry. For everything. You were right. I was wrong," T'Challa continues haltingly, avoiding the elephant in the room. "I should have listened to you from the start. Wakanda has been isolated for too long. We could have done much more, and many people - especially you - have suffered because of our mistakes. I do not agree with your methods, but I will work towards your goals. Integration. Assistance. Though, I will skip the part about conquering the world," T'Challa adds dryly.
This entire speech has the effect of rendering Erik temporarily speechless. Shuri, too, for that matter. T'Challa briefly takes a moment to appreciate their twin, adorably bug-eyed looks of surprise.
Their familial resemblance is extremely strong. Shame forms a hard knot at the base of T'Challa's stomach.
Erik recovers first. "You're just saying that 'cause you wanna fuck me," he sneers. "Don't think that you can sweet-talk me like that. Your words don't mean nothing to me. I don't believe a word you're saying."
"Oh Bast, what the fuck?!" Shuri cries, horrified.
T'Challa flinches.
Erik, predictably, turns his head to address Shuri directly, to really dig it in. "Yeah, bet you didn't know that your big bro is a pervert, huh? He kissed me! And then stabbed me in the heart when I let down my guard! And now he's trying to suck up to me. He's a pervert who wants to fuck his own cousin. His own alpha cousin!"
T'Challa flushes with mortification as Shuri stares at him with open-mouthed dismay. He can't deny his taboo attraction to Erik. Can't lie to his own sister.
Of course, Erik can't resist twisting the knife in deeper. "Who knows what else he wants to do?" he says darkly. "Someone like that, with no boundaries? Another alpha? His own cousin? His own sist- "
For the first time, true rage flares in T'Challa's chest. "Don't you dare insinuate that," T'Challa snaps angrily, cutting Erik off. "I would never!"
Erik's eyes widen and he draws back slightly. He's too proud to apologise, even when he knows that he's gone too far. But at least he does back down a little.
"Looks like your virtue is safe, Princess," Erik says nastily. "It's just me that he wants to fuck, if that makes you feel any better."
It definitely does not make Shuri feel any better.
With one last horrified look at T'Challa, Shuri flees the lab. Erik watches her go with a smug, self-satisfied expression on his face.
T'Challa sighs. His heart wrenches.
"I do not expect you to reciprocate. I know that this is wrong," he says quietly to Erik. "Regardless of what I feel, I promise that I will not touch you again. But I still hope that we can work together. I understand that you may not believe me right now, but I will show you my sincerity through my actions."
Erik sneers at him again. He makes a big show of clearing his throat and pretending to spit on the floor, to demonstrate to T'Challa exactly how little regard he has for T'Challa's alleged sincerity.
T'Challa sighs again and gets up to leave. He needs to catch up with Shuri, ideally before she speaks to Mama.
He misses the contemplative, curious look that Erik gives him as he turns to go.
Unfortunately for him, T'Challa does not catch up with Shuri in time. She breaks the news to Mama, and their ensuing row is so loud and so acrimonious that T'Challa is sure that all the palace servants are able to hear every last, lurid detail.
Gossip spreads fast in the palace. By the end of the day, practically everyone knows that the alpha King lusts after his alpha cousin.
The council sends T'Challa a terse note informing him that they intend to convene a meeting the next morning, a meeting where T'Challa's presence is requested (none too politely). T'Challa can't say that he hadn't expected this, but he's dreading it all the same.
T'Challa is wretchedly ashamed and miserable. He has never disappointed his mother or his people so badly before, and it's an awful feeling. For the first time in his life, he desperately wishes that he had been born a beta or an omega instead. It would make it so much easier to explain - this. This forbidden attraction to his alpha cousin.
But Bast is a tricky goddess, a sly panther. And what T'Challa wants isn't what he gets.
Reclutantly, T'Challa considers abdicating. Should he give up the throne in favour of Shuri? At this point, his public support is probably nonexistent. A king cannot rule without the support of his people, and within the short span of less than a week, he's proven twice over that he's not fit to lead. First the civil war sparked by Erik which tore the country apart, and now this.
But T'Challa doesn't think that yet another transfer of power so soon will be good for Wakanda. And, more crucially, Shuri is only sixteen. She will be at a severe disadvantage if she has to fight off a challenge from Erik or M'baku with nothing but her own unaided strength. Either of them will be able to kill her on the next Challenge Day, and it will all be perfectly legal under Wakanda's laws.
No. He has to hold on to the throne for as long as he can manage. There is no better alternative.
On the morning of the council meeting, T'Challa finds Erik waiting outside the throne room.
"Erik," T'Challa says, surprised.
"You first," Erik says flatly, with an unreadable expression on his face as he gestures towards the door.
"Wait, you're going in too?" T'Challa asks. "I thought..."
"Course I am. The council invited me. I'm still the king, ain't I? I never yielded. And as you can see, I'm not dead." Erik smirks as he parrots T'Challa's own words back to him.
T'Challa's heart sinks. There is no precedent for this situation, but in light of recent revelations, there's a very real possibility that the council will validate Erik's claim over his own. And then what will happen to Wakanda?
Erik smiles mockingly at T'Challa's obvious discomfort. "You first," he repeats. "And don't worry. I'll even let you do the talking first, too."
With no other choice, T'Challa holds his head high, grits his teeth and enters the room, drawing his natural alpha authority around him like a mantle. There's an amused huff from behind him as Erik follows suit.
All eyes are on T'Challa as he stalks directly towards the throne and takes his seat as if nothing has happened. He ignores the elders' mutterings with as much cold dignity as he can muster.
Erik lets the doors slam shut behind him and slouches insouciantly at the back of the throne room. He leans back against the wall, folds his arms across his chest and raises an eyebrow at T'Challa. Go ahead, then, Erik's expression says.
T'Challa does his best not to let Erik distract him as he addresses the council directly.
He delves straight into his speech about building bridges instead of barriers, not giving the council a chance to begin questioning him about...recent events.
Erik listens to the speech with a completely blank face, though he does clench his jaw hard and bare his teeth once when T'Challa brings up his plan to build the first outreach centre in Oakland. With his herb-enhanced senses, T'Challa can see Erik's eyes flash a deep gold, matching the glint of his capped canines.
T'Challa swallows once before he continues, his voice gathering strength and conviction as he nears the end of his speech. When he concludes with, "In times of crisis the wise build bridges, while the foolish build barriers. We must find a way to look after one another, as if we were one single tribe," he can't help but sneak a glance at Erik out of the corner of his eye.
Erik's lips are pressed together, but as far as T'Challa can tell, he doesn't seem to be displeased. When Erik is angry, he really doesn't hesitate to show it.
The council, however, is definitely displeased. The most vocal of them, anyway. A cacophony of complaints immediately arise - that T'Challa is endangering their way of life. That they shouldn't be offering aid to colonizers, and to people who aren't their own. That perhaps T'Challa has lost his path as of late, because of his unnatural -
"All of you, shut the fuck up," Erik snarls suddenly, straightening up.
Erik storms right up to the throne. With a flourish, he sits down on the arm of the throne, draping himself over T'Challa. T'Challa freezes at the feeling of Erik's warm weight against him, Erik's arm pressed over his shoulders.
What?
"None of you had this much to say yesterday when I was in charge. But y'all sure do like to run your mouths now. So killing colonizers is fine. But helping our own people is too much for y'all?"
There is an outraged pause before another litany of complaints breaks out. This time, they take the form of indignant whispers, most of them centered on the topic of Erik's scandalous proximity to T'Challa on the throne. Still, even the loudest complainants have at least been temporarily silenced - T'Challa does not know exactly what transpired during Erik's reign, but he has apparently managed to scare even the most vocal elders into submission.
Erik glares at everyone and pointedly leans down to nuzzle the top of T'Challa's head. A flare of alpha pheromones hits the back of T'Challa's nose.
T'Challa tries his best to maintain a straight face and his dignified upright posture, even as his mind is screaming, What?
"Is my cousin here your king or nah?" Erik demands. There's a deep alpha growl in his voice.
There's a chorus of muttered acknowledgments, except for the very bravest of the dissenters, who protests, "But you're also -"
"Now, that ain't gonna be a problem with us," Erik cuts her off, emphasizing the last word as he tightens his grip possessively around T'Challa's shoulders. "That's strictly between me and T'Challa. Far as y'all are concerned? We're both your kings. And when the king gives an order? He means that shit."
Erik is magnetic. Commanding. T'Challa can't help but be impressed.
He hadn't really blamed any of his fellow Wakandans for following Erik's orders - as far as everyone had known, Erik had won the challenge fairly and was the lawful king - but he had been personally disappointed by how readily some of his old friends, W'Kabi in particular, had chosen to go along with Erik's obviously crazy plan.
Now, though, T'Challa understands. He can't blame them at all.
"Now if anyone here has got a problem with my alpha?" Erik continues. He leans forward and lowers his head, breath ghosting across the top of T'Challa's ear. T'Challa fights the urge to shiver.
"Y'all can fucking fight us. I'm a generous man. Don't care if it ain't Challenge Day. Path to the throne is still open, if any of y'all wanna fight us for it. But stop your bitching and put your money where your mouth is," Erik sneers.
The council members exchange glances with each other, but none of them seem very eager to stand up against not one, but two alphas, one of whom is stone-faced and the other of whom is clearly enraged.
"Oh, so no one wants to challenge?" Erik says sarcastically. "Then fucking go. Your feedback is noted. We're done here."
The council exits, muttering under their breaths.
"Fucking hypocrites," Erik sneers as the door closes behind the last person. "Bunch of coward betas. Thinking they're better than the rest of our people."
"Erik..."
To say that T'Challa is astonished is an understatement. He is flabbergasted. Of all the ways he had expected Erik to react, this had not been one of them.
T'Challa is so stunned by the sudden turn of events that he can't even bring himself to chide Erik for being rude. All he can manage to say is, "Why?"
Erik slides off the arm of the throne and turns to look at T'Challa directly, amusement plain on his face. "You should see the look on your face, cuz," he laughs.
T'Challa can't even bring himself to be indignant at being laughed at. "I don't understand," he says.
"Your plan is shitty," Erik says plainly. "Naive. But it doesn't completely suck. It can still be salvaged. By me," he adds, smirking.
"That's not what I meant," T'Challa says. "I mean, why did you even defend me at all? Why did you - " T'Challa waves vaguely in the direction of the throne, trusting Erik to catch his meaning.
"See, I'm not stupid," Erik says, becoming serious. "I already tried to rule alone once. Tried my own way of doing things, and it didn't work. My plan failed because I couldn't convince enough people - the crucial people - to do it my way. But now? Now, I don't need to convince an entire country. I just need to convince one man. My dear cousin."
Erik leans forward to look directly into T'Challa's eyes, so close that T'Challa can see the fading rings of gold around his irises. Lightly, playfully, he blows a warm breath against T'Challa's lips.
T'Challa gulps, mouth dry.
Erik's smirk returns in full force. "Somehow, I have a feeling that this is gonna be much easier."
"You will not find me as easy to manipulate as you think," T'Challa says firmly.
"Oh, I wouldn't expect any less, alpha," Erik purrs. "Don't disappoint me now."
And with that last word, Erik saunters out of the throne room without a single backward glance, as if he hadn't just turned T'Challa's world upside down.
Again.