Chapter 3
Tony liked the redhead because she was sassy and apparently able to beat people three times her size up. “I hope he has fun explaining to T’Challa why he has a black eye,” Tony says, grinning at Natasha.
She smiles too, “that is going to be amusing. That’s what he gets for assuming that I lied about my fighting skills- god knows why I would even do that,” she says, rolling her eyes. Tony had no clue why she’d lie about that either, especially considering she made an offhand comment about military training- it wasn’t like she was bragging about it. After Tony watched her take a guy out for attempting to throw a punch at her in some absurd test of her skills he thought she had plenty of reason to brag, though. She took a guy out with her thighs. He wanted one.
“No clue, but people like to underestimate my skills too,” he says. His time as a party boy and his bad habit of screwing up very publically meant people didn’t often believe he had the skills he said he did, or they underestimated just how dangerous his intellect could be. That was how the Ten Rings screwed up and they ended up getting crushed for it. After three months sitting around with a bunch of guys who A, thought he was going to die, and B, didn’t think Tony knew how to speak their language he got some amazing intel for Rhodey. Plus he sent in a bunch of relief teams and medical aid to deal with the fallout of his own ignorance- it was only fair that he paid to clean up his own mess.
Natasha gives him a look and snorts, “oh I’m sure people underestimate you all the time,” she says sarcastically.
“Not because of my gender, if that’s what you’re getting at. But I’m young, and I have a reputation that isn’t exactly false. People don’t think I’m capable of the things I say I am,” he says.
“Are you?” Natasha asks, head tilted to the side.
“Of course I am. I have to listen to people spout off about how they’re so smart, and how they’re such experts when they know nothing about the subjects they’re talking about. I can’t stand people like that. If I say I know about a subject and that I can do something, I can. I don’t like claiming that I’m an expert in things unless I actually am.” Didn’t stop him from doing it anyways every once and awhile, like with his previous business in weapons. But he was now more aware that sometimes people might have a point- so he was working on critically examining criticisms to see if they held up to the reality of a situation. If they didn’t then he’d tear the person’s argument apart freely. But if they did then he thought more about their stance on the subject and researched it to further make up his mind on how said subject worked.
Natasha examines him for a long moment. “Well this is certainly a game changer. You’re well known for your arrogance but if you’ve actually done the things you’ve claimed…” she trails off and Tony gets it.
“Trust me, no one has access to my weapons designs. They can’t find any of the things I made when I was under the delusion that I was being useful to the planet,” he says with confidence. Not that Obi hasn’t tried a few times unsuccessfully.
“Why not just destroy the designs? You’ve bragged about some pretty terrifying things,” she points out.
“Yeah, if we can casually ignore how much of an ass I was two years ago that’d be lovely. And I don’t want to destroy the designs on the off chance someone makes something similar. It’ll be easier for whoever is investigating to know how some of the stuff I made works so they can work on prevention. Everyone makes things differently, but getting the gist of how it works is always useful.” He thought of destroying his designs, Natasha had a point, but he left them around in case there was ever a need for knowing how the kinds of things that should only exist in nightmares work. Thank god those terrorists didn’t know what he could really do with that brain of his.
“Do you really think people could replicate you’re uh… darker work?” she asks.
“The last time I assumed I was the only one who could do something some rando with a vendetta against my father popped up and claimed I stole his work because his daddy was pissed off mine stole his work. I didn’t, by the way, steal the guy’s work I mean. I made my mini reactor in a cave with a bunch of scraps, he had a lab. Point is, I’ve had people prove me wrong quite a bit lately and I’m not taking the chance that I’m the only one who thought up some pretty terrifying weapons,” he says. He didn’t like when other people replicated his work- Vankov shouldn’t have been able to make that reactor- but he did. Tony couldn’t just ignore that sometimes he wasn’t actually the only smart person in the room because he didn’t like it. The last two years have been a ride but he at least learned something from it, a lot of things actually.
“Ivan Vankov? I heard about that. Didn’t he end up dropping his case because your designs were different?” she asks.
He snorts, “yeah, he dragged me through the mud for a year all because he found a different way to do what I did.” He had located the problem with Tony’s original design first too- impressive in Tony’s opinion, at least if his design didn’t have the same issue. He figured it out first because his cores burned out faster than Tony’s. His knowledge of Tony’s poison core was a lot less impressive then, but he had eventually found a new compound that worked nicely and didn’t destroy whatever it was trying to power. As usual his discoveries were all over science journals and the news while people tried to recreate his results. He hopped he won a Nobel Prize for the new element just so he could brag to Richards about being ahead in what Pepper labeled their petty pissing contest. He didn’t think he was being petty and he was winning more Nobel Prizes if his damn life depended on it.
Natasha nods at his words. “Why couldn’t I have competition that didn’t sound so good on paper?” she mumbles.
“Depends on what you’re reading. Besides, you just took a dude out with your thighs- that was probably the most badass thing I’ve ever seen. I mean one time I made a whole new element out of thin air, but murder thighs are still pretty cool.” He grins at her and earns an eye roll in response, but she laughs so clearly he was right.
*
T’Challa knows that his father means well with his questions and concerns but it annoys him. “You know very well how I am. I am annoyed and tired and tempted to marry a tree because at least it would not have an opportunity to irritate me,” he says bluntly. The tree would not vie for his attention, would not try to impress him with their country’s politics, and attempt to explain why they were the best option, or anything else because trees do not speak. He could live happily ever after alone in the forest with Jujube.
His father walks over and lays a hand on his shoulder, “T’Challa, I am not trying to force you into anything. I gave you choice for a reason,” he says softly, gently.
He shakes his head and stands, breaking contact with his father as he does. “No you did not. You cannot give a man a choice between fifty different prisons and claim that is a choice. It does not matter which option I chose I am stuck in a marriage built on politics, contracts, and agendas. Marriages are supposed to be a place of love, support, and joy, not political power plays.” It was one thing, one thing, that he had to himself that was near free of the politics that plagued the rest of his life and now he did not even have that. Of course there would have been political implications no matter whom he chose to marry, but this was far more… involved than he had wanted.
“This does not need to be an either or situation, T’Challa. You can find love in the same place you find politics. It worked out for your mother and I,” he says quietly, looking away briefly. He did not talk about her much, not after she was murdered.
“Did it really? She was killed for to achieve political ends. Political agendas have no place in a marriage,” he says firmly.
“I do not need a reminder of how your mother died, T’Challa,” his father snaps before taking a deep breath to calm himself. “I know you are under the impression that marriage is apolitical but it is not- history will tell you that marriage has always been deeply entrenched in politics. This is the best way to tie Wakanda into the rest of the world. From there we can work on further integration,” he says.
T’Challa shakes his head, “you used to tell me that as King I would have to make difficult decisions and yet you freely admit that marrying me off to someone for political purposes is the easy option. What am I supposed to take from that? Besides, when I am to take over as King I am supposed to be the embodiment of Wakanda, I am to be the heart of the country and if I am all but forced into a marriage that I never wanted or supported what does that tell the country? What does that tell our omega population?” he asks.
The last question was an impulsive addition but they both knew it was relevant to the situation even if his father would never admit it. He did not like the idea that his father would assume him any lesser than and alpha or a beta but there was a reason Shuri was not in his position. His father would claim age, of course, she was far too young to be married but one could make an argument that twenty-one was not old enough either. They have waited nearly two hundred years for this; they could wait four more for Shuri to be his age. Theoretically the results would be similar enough to be effective.
“Do not pretend like your being an omega has anything to do with this, your sister is too young and you are the one to take the throne. It was the most logical choice and I have done my best to make sure that you are comfortable in this situation,” he says. T’Challa can tell that he is growing irritated but only due to years of practice at reading his father’s body language. To someone who was not aware of the small tells he looked perfectly calm, which was the way he intended it to be.
“I absolutely will act like my being an omega is important in this situation. You claim it is not because you do not share the history I am now participating in where omegas were used as marriage tools for political ends. You get the luxury of thinking my status does not matter. You know full well that marriage would bring a foreigner far closer to Wakanda’s resources than anyone in this country would be comfortable with. Waiting a few years and using Shuri for your political ends would have given us political ties without the potential of allowing another country access to our political system and resources. That would have made more sense and it would have eased the worries of our citizens but instead you chose me. It is no accident that I am the omega- you are playing into the assumptions that omegas are more desirable than betas and we both know it. Do not give me a lesson in marriage being political and then claim my omega status is not- it is insulting.”
He was not pleased with the way his father, Shuri, and even the other alphas here were all dancing around the subject. It was no accident that a bunch of alphas were sent too given that omegas and alphas were assumed to be a better match chemically. According to research that was only partially true but he found people rarely listened to science if it disrupted their ignorant biases. Regardless, his status as an omega was a key part in this mess and he was not fond the kind of message that sent to the omega population of his country. For the first time in nearly five hundred years they were about to get an omega King only to have him married off to some alpha for shallow politics.
For a long few beats the air is silent before his father finally sighs, “I do not know why we are having this argument when we both know that no matter how much you disagree with me you will follow through with this. I appreciate that kind of trust,” he says earnestly.
“Good. Because if this goes wrong I am not certain that trust will remain.” That earns him a flinch but the statement is true, if blunt.
*
T’Challa lays on the ground with Jujube because the cat is the only one who did not care about what was going on in this damn house. All Jujube cared about was her food and whether or not she was going to get pet more than normal. Too be fair she was at least a little unimpressed that he forgot to feed her until after he was done his bathroom routine in the morning, but she seems to have forgiven him now.
“Aren’t you worried about bugs down there? I have seen some freaky looking spiders,” a familiar voice says. T’Challa looks over to find Tony leaning against a tree smiling, but keeping his distance. He would be the only one who knew how to give him some breathing room- even Natasha was a bit pushy in that category and she was the only option he did not completely hat at this point. Her little cat figurines were cute.
“You only find the spiders noteworthy because you have never seen them before. The spiders are normal to me,” he says. He was not the first one to mention them either, which made T’Challa wonder what kind of bugs these people were used to. Some of the people who mentioned spiders should have been more worried about the terrifying snakes in their home countries.
“I don’t give a shit what anyone says, three inch long blue spiders are not normal. They are not right. I mean no spider is but still, especially not the blue ones,” Tony says, shuddering.
“Spiders are very important, leave them alone. They cannot help that they have too many legs and eyes, they are doing good things.” Shuri hated them but T’Challa thought they were sort of cute in an odd way.
“I know that they’re important but they can be important the hell away from me. Seriously, three inch long blue spider. I have a friend back home who would have straight up left the country and he’s seen some shit, trust me,” Tony says, waving a hand around.
“Well, he is friends with you. Nothing is ever a dull moment with you- even dinner is amusing because you make faces every time someone says something you disagree with,” he says. It was both amusing and useful to him. So far he has learned that he and Tony agree on quite a few things, though they disagreed on a few legal matters that were likely irrelevant to a relationship. He also learned that Tony did not like pineapple, a man named Justin Hammer, geese, or goldfish. T’Challa understood the dislike for geese- he was not fond of birds as a whole- but the dislike for goldfish baffled him.
Tony grins, “glad I can be of service to you. I’ve always been a bit, uh, vocal about how I feel about things though, so if you want an answer I’m not about to pussyfoot around it. It’s a waste of time,” he says.
“I agree. If only everyone else agreed with that. So- how do you feel about the ocean?” he asks.
The question obviously throws Tony for a loop but he answers, “it’s okay I guess. Salt water makes my hair soft and I tan well thanks to being Italian but other than that I don’t really think about it much.”
T’Challa hums and looks back up to the sky, “I think that the things in the ocean are equal parts terrifying and ugly and I would prefer they stay there. I will take my changes with the blue spiders- Jujube can eat those but a giant squid is not something she can win a fight with.” The cat lifts her head at the sound of her name and makes an irritated noise when she discovers that she was not needed. She picks herself up and trots off to go sleep elsewhere as punishment.
Tony throws his head back and laughs, “well I guess I know the spiders aren’t deadly if the cat eats them. I might have to get me one because I am not killing those things myself. And agreed on the ugly ocean things- have you seen blobfish? Those things are hideous.”
“Have you seen anglerfish? They are like Pac Man but with much more teeth and terror,” he says, wrinkling his nose. Tony laughs at this too and the environment feels less thick and forced despite T’Challa’s high stress level. It was pleasant, at least, even if he knew that all of his responsibilities were waiting at home.