Chapter 299: Arc Ten. Chapter Two-Hundred Ninety-One. Trial Run

T’Challa had slowly dressed, as while everything had healed he was stiff and sore. Spending so long in bed had left him weak though, and Okoye smiled as she helped him dress.

“The trial of Shuri is today. The White Gorilla tribe is pushing for her to face charges, and you as well.” 

T'Challa sighed as he slid into his robe, “I had heard. That Erik being imprisoned after being crowned was unjust.” and he shook his head, “I love her, but she made a mess.”

Okoye raised an eyebrow “She did not. She is doing better than you give her credit for. Everyone else made the mess, she is just cleaning it up less diplomatically than you would have.

T’Challa stopped as she started to button his collar up, his hand still in a medical cast, “I did not say that. Shuri is a hammer to my scalpel. She has always been like that. I was raised to be King, she was raised to be Shuri,” Okoye raised an eyebrow at him as she fastened the last button and smoothed down his lapels, “which is why she is perfect. She can make as much mess as she can, and let me, the politician, clear it for her. Peter is perfect, M’Baku angers himself at a skinny white boy who defies him at every turn. He sees a poor stupid boy, and I see the monster under his skin. Shuri knows just how much trouble M’Baku is in, and so do I.”

Okoye paused with her hands on his shoulders, “You are not returning to the throne?” 

T’Challa shook his head, “Shuri is not a piece in this game of chess. A knight or bishop can move much easier than a Queen.”

Okoye raised an eyebrow and frowned, “That was bad, even for you. A Queen can move-” but T’Challa sealed her lips with his.

“Fine, a King then,” and she grinned and slid her arms around him, “M’Baku just kicked a hornet's nest, and for once, Peter’s influence will not be a weapon to be used against her.”

T'Challa had spent a few days reading over Shuri’s reports, he had access to them as a member of the Golden Tribe and while some of the science was over his head he knew two important facts. Shuri had proved the Symbiotes were not dangerous and, in fact, gave her access to systems of the great city, and that the Purple Heart flower was poisonous. Every Elder was given it, every tribe relied on it for their soldiers and once Shuri hung the cure over their heads, he would make sure they obeyed.

“I recognise that look, you are planning something,”  Okoye said, narrowing her eyes as she looked at T’Challa suspiciously, but he patted her hand and smiled,

“Nothing that will harm my sister,” He held his arm for her to take. While almost healed, he was still using a cane. Okoye led him to the council chamber where the trial was being held.

T'Challa could hear the shouting before he even entered the Royal chamber, as M’Baku and Shuri yelled at each other. Shuri was too headstrong for a role as ruler, and when it came to the man who was trying to force a wedding, it was even worse.

“You are lucky I do not have you hanging from the city walls, you neanderthal. My edict still stands, and there is nothing you can do.”

M’Baku growled, “You are not fit to be Queen. You are too young, you are under the influence of the monster, and you are marrying an outsider. You throw away our traditions, you mock our beliefs and I have heard rumours you are going to stop producing the Purple Heart Flower serum. I demand that you-”

But Shuri roared at him, “Silence.” As T’Challa entered the room she stood and brushed down the front of her dress, “It is good to see you brother, please, take your seat,” and she smiled as she motioned to a throne next to hers. The smile faded as she glared at M’Baku. “You demand nothing. King U’Membe was only 12 when he took the throne. My hosting a Symbiote has no effect on my judgement, nor has any standing in our laws, and my marriage is MY MARRIAGE!” Shuri made sure to push power through Jhalia to emphasise her point. “Not in one hundred years has a ruler of Wakanda been forced to take a spouse against their wishes, and I will not break that.” 

She stood and walked down the steps to face M’Baku, “I have had enough of your petty schemes. You cite tradition, then fine. As I am being challenged, I accept. I will unbond myself, I will depower myself, as shall you, and I will fight you. To the death.”

Shocked, T'Challa stepped forwards, “Sister, do not be hasty,” 

M’Baku laughed, “Yes yes, Do not be hasty. I am a seasoned warrior, and you are a small girl. Even without an advantage, it would not be fair.”

Shuri snorted, “Coward. I have had enough of this, Face me or my judgement stands. This discussion is over.”

M’Baku sneered, “then I accept. As long as your brother does not challenge me after. I know you stripped Erik of his titles and made him your lapdog, but your brother wears the mantle of Panther as well, and he can challenge me too.” 

Shuri sneered at him, “and you are still a coward. Hiding behind your words. I accept, as long as you do not hide behind Fisk this time. You will face me, and me alone. Bring the Heart-Shaped Herb, I will remove my Purple Heart power right now. So he cannot accuse me of cheating anymore.”

M’Baku shrugged, uncaring, “I will accept you remaining empowered, but if you insist.” 

They waited until the tray with the second Wakandan potion was brought. The Purple Heart Flower was the female of the species, and the Heart-Shaped Herb was the male. To drink one gave fabulous power, the other removed it, and if the imbiber was mortal, taking both could cause death within minutes.

Shuri stared at M’Baku as she drank the glass, and motioning to Nakia, held out her hand while another Dora brought clothes to change into, creating a barrier while she slipped them on.

Once she was done Shuri stood, in nothing more than a black sports bra and cycling pants. “There. I am Queen Shuri, and I take this challenge of my own free will. I defend my Heart, I defend my throne, and I defend my honour. M’Baku is a spineless coward who covets what he can never have, and what Peter has already enjoyed. Make your peace M’Baku, for I will grant you none.”

The tribal elder of the White Gorilla tribe stood, “this is improper. There must be rituals conducted, trials to prove both of your worthiness.” 

Shuri snorted and raised a hand, “Rituals only matter when the person matters. He does not, and I am tired of his constant complaining over an imagined slight. I was never his, the throne was never his, and it is now time to show him that.”

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The elder huffed but sat back down, Dora Milaje cleared the area in front of the throne and laid out a series of golden posts. Used to mark out areas for more official matters.

“If either of you moves out with the boundary, it is a forfeit, otherwise there will be no stopping until a victor is declared,” Okoye announced. As her marriage to T’Challa had been postponed while he recovered, she was still the head of Shuri's security and Palace guard.

Shuri stretched while M’Baku leered at her, letting his attendant take off his tribal necklace of animal bones he had hunted himself.

He was a huge muscular man, standing at almost seven feet tall. It was not a joke when he said he outclassed Shuri. He fought every day, trained every day and enjoyed the latest treatments that all of the tribal leaders enjoyed. His muscles bulged and flexed as he did his own stretches, glaring at Shuri the whole time.

Shuri was almost thirty, but her training had been different, and without the serum, she was no stronger than anyone else her age.

She took a breath and both stepped into the squared-off area. A pair of Dora attached velvet ropes to the poles and they were now in an enclosed ring.

M’Baku laughed as he feigned a lunge at Shuri, who danced back, “You shall regret this, tiny thing. There are none stronger than the White Gorilla Tribe.”

M’Baku stepped forwards, judging the distance and lifted his leg, feigning a kick and instead swung out with his right arm,

“Natasha Romanov,” Shuri said as she ducked under the swing and jabbed M’Baku in the liver before she danced away,

“Maria Hill,” Shuri said as she moved once more and struck M’Baku in the side, ramming her fist into a nerve cluster,

“Felicia Hardy,” Shuri avoided the kick and went down on one knee, driving a fist into his testicles, before rolling away and springing to her feet again,

“Laura Kinney,” Shuri stepped on M’Baku’s forearm as he struck out at her and then kicked him in the side of the head,

“You think Peter sits at home, eating grapes and being pampered. He trains,” and as M’Baku swung again she stepped over his arm and drove her heel into his chin, “he fights, without powers.” and when he rolled away, trying to rise to his feet, Shuri kicked him once more in the stomach and then drove her knee into his back,

“Brawlers, fighters. Warriors. Peter knows what it means to be beaten and to lose, and he learned the hard way you learn to fight,” and as M’Baku rolled onto his stomach, blood spilling from his mouth, Shuri leapt onto his back and wrapped had hands around his chin, crossing her fingers and leaning back, “Or you die.” and as M’Baku weakly struggled against her, she planted both feet on the ground and leaned back, lifting him from the ground until there was a loud crack and he slumped.

“The fight is over. M’Baku and the White Gorilla tribe lose.” Okoye announced.

Shuri stood and held a hand out. Nakia nodded and stepped forwards, allowing Jhalia to return to her host. “The Symbiotes were once a slave race. Imprisoned and used against their will to power our ancestor's oppressors. They are more kin to us than the people of this planet. They bled with us, they fought with us. And they died with us. From today, there will be no talk of the Devourer. The Symbiotes are now part of the Golden Tribe, and with Bast's blessing, So say I.”

Shuri turned as Jhalia morphed back into her more regal attire, and even her hair whipped around as Jhalia braided it into a long whip down her back,

“And remove that filth from my throne room. My edict stands. Banishment, and there will be no more arguments.”

The Elder of the White Gorilla tribe stood and bowed, even though the anger was evident on his face.

An attendant came over and whispered something to him, “he still lives,” and although he heard, Shuri ignored them. Even if M’Baku lived he was beaten, and even if the man was an arrogant ass, he valued his honour and the traditions of Wakanda. He would never raise another challenge to her claim as Queen, and if he knew what was good for him, he would skulk away to live his days reflecting on his mistakes.

Shuri stifled a small laugh, as knowing M’Baku, that would be the last thing he would do.

Motioning to T’Challa, she hugged him, and whispered, “The White Gorilla tribe must be suppressed. Make sure Doom does not get a hold over them and make sure Stark stays away as well. We do not need a nest of vipers growing under our feet.”

T’Challa nodded and moved over to Erik, who was standing, watching the fight while eating slices of fruit and meat from a platter,

“You’ll have to have him killed at some point you know.” Erik said as he ate a slice of chicken, “He won't back down, even this, it's not enough. It’ll just piss him off. To be beaten by her.”

“Talking from experience?” and Erik shrugged,

“She’s more dangerous than you ever were. I won't make that mistake again.”

T’Challa looked over at Erik, as he lifted another slice of meat. Shuri had assured him that Erik's loyalty was confirmed, but that sounded very much like a threat.

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