Broodmare

Broodmare

T’Challa was sitting behind his desk overlooking a contract given to him by James Rhodes, a former military man now running his presumed dead friends company Stark Industries, when Shuri rushed into the room inelegantly, which was very unlike her.

“Shuri, what is the--”

“Brother, you must come to the border facing the northern most desert.” She said as she darted around the desk and yanked him up by the arm.

“Surely you can…”

“No brother, this must be seen to be believed.”

With a long suffering sigh he laid the contract down and allowed his sister to pull him through castle.

This behavior was very unlike Shuri; normally so dignified to the point of it being mistaken for being aloof. Eventually she let go of his arm and started a brisk run, snapping orders left and right for medical personal to come to the northern border with haste.

Now he was fully engaged and intrigued. It was not like his sister to have mercy on outsiders.

When they arrived at their destination he suddenly understood her behavior. As standing before them, surrounded by the Dora were two men: one with long brown hair well built with a metal arm on his knees with his hands behind his neck and the other was much slender… to slender to be healthy, clutching a child that could be no more than a year old to his chest and behind him were no less than five children. The eldest two looked to be of Middle Eastern descent and Asian descent, a boy and girl were both of either mixed or African descent, and the youngest three were white.

The second man looked close to collapsing, the only thing holding him up were the children… or perhaps his instinct to protect them. A quick inhale of air revealed to him that he was an Omega in distress and the young were more than likely his kit.

“On. Your. Knees.” The leader of the Dora demanded of the second man.

“I… look, I don't mean to be rude, but if I take a knee I'm going to collapse.” His voice was dry and reedy and tinged with desperation, as he clutched the youngest; who couldn't have been older than two, to his chest.

T’Challa held up his hand for them to stand down. “State your business.”

The second man swallow hard, blinking his eyes rapidly, stumbling a little, but the pups kept him upright. He licked his lips and shook his head sharply.

“My…” his voice trembled. “My name is Anthony Edward Stark… and… I… me and my friend here… and my pups… we need sanctuary. P-please…” he swayed as he spoke. “Please.”

The gasps of those around him were numerous. If not for his royal training he would have no doubt been amongst them.

But he had to be objective, Anthony Edward Stark was supposed to have perished in a mysterious, not to mention unscheduled, unrecorded, and undocumented plane crash off the side of the Himalayas. And Wakanda was no where near the Himalayas.

“But Anthony Edward Stark is dead. Has been for almost a decade.” He explained softly. His words caused the red tinge to his face to fade to grey.

He licked his lips and swallowed again. “Reports of my death have been” his voice cracked. “... Greatly exaggerated…” he let out a humorless laugh. “I'm dead… you hear that Winter… ima dead man.”

The other man, Winter, presumably, snorted derisively.

“I'm dead…” he chuckled. “I'm dead.” and then, as though all the fight in him had drained away, he slumped to his knees and he fainted dead away.

The children screamed first, the eldest girl lunging for the baby and protecting him from a nasty fall as the eldest boy tried to restrain the ones younger than him. T'Challa cursed himself and bade his staff to attend to him and take the other man into custody to question him further.

The staff tried to pull the children away but they kept on shrieking. “Boba! Boba! Don't take his heart! DON'T TAKE HIS HEART!”

Winter did not resist the arrest but the children's words struck a chord in for his voice joined their chorus, but in a much more frantic tone. “Don't take the arc reactor out! IT'S KEEPING HIM ALIVE! YOU CAN'T TAKE IT OUT OR HE'LL DIE!”

He did not understand what he was saying until he approached the prone man and heard his physicians curse in Wakandian. There was a metal sphere in the center of his chest glowing blue.

“Leave it.” he ordered sharply. “I do not think they mean to deceive us.”

The man, Anthony; if he spoke the truth, was loaded onto a gurney and whisked away while the children were corralled to follow the doctor's.

They had seemed weak and exhausted when they were behind their “Boba”, but the moment he seemed in peril it had given them a second, and maybe third wind.

He turned to Shuri, who had the other man, Winter, standing next to her, arms shackled, head bowed, and shoulders hunched.

“Make sure they are taken care of. I want names, any information that can be gleaned from the pups, but have patience Shuri. If half the tale they have to tell is true then they have been through quite a lot. Spare no expense, see to their health. And have him brought to my office, summon my personal physician, and someone to bring him light food and water. I feel as though we may be busy for a spell.”

Winter licked his chapped lips and swallowed hard. “All I ask is for an update on their health and for our duffles to be brought with us.”

T'Challa looked over his shoulder and noticed, for the first time, three long crudely shaped handmade patchwork leather rucksacks that had been dragged behind them.

“It's everything I… we need to prove to you that what I'm saying is the truth.”

“Very well.” He nodded to Shuri who turned to the Dora to bring the sacks with them.

He hurried to back to his office. He had a feeling he was going to need a stiff drink for what was to come.