Eyes of Fire | Bucky Barnes

65

The sun had only just begun to climb the sky when they came for him.

Uxolo wasn't quite sure how they knew they could find him here, but considering the technology afforded to the royals of her country, there was no end to the explanations.

Whether they knew of their relationship, she did not ask. Whether they were aware of all of the progress Bucky had made, she did not ask.

Whether they now looked down at her kneeled form with disappointment or pity, she did not know, for she did not look up from the feet of her king.

"Ezinyaweni zakho, Uxolo." (Rise, Uxolo.) A stern, yet heart-filled voice commanded from above her.

And still, she could not move, her knees glued to the rough dirts of her front pathway.

"King T'Challa." She mumbled under her breath. She had seen the King a handful of times before, given how far from the heart of the country she lived. She had interacted with the man even less times. Uxolo wasn't entirely sure if her formality was warranted, if it was something the other citizens did too.

"Rise, sister." The man stated, voice clear and leaving no room for argument. She watched carefully as the feet in front of her shuffled forward, each step upsetting the dirt below and kicking some up onto the never ending west-ward wind. A hand extended into her field of vision, "Andiyi kuba noyena mfazi ukrelekrele kwilizwe lam aguqe phambi kwam ngolu hlobo ." (I will not have my country's smartest woman kneeling before me like this.)

Uxolo took the hand at his insistence, his grip warm and gentle but no less confident.

She could hear Shuri grumbling not too far away, "Brother, kungathini u-?" (How dare you?)

After he was sure that Uxolo had fully risen to her feet, he pulled his hand back and twisted to tease Shuri, "Awunakundigxeka." (You can't blame me.)

Shuri rolled her eyes before the words could completely leave his mouth, shifting her attention to Uxolo. "uzondigona sisi, or what?" (Are you going to hug me, sister,)

"Oh, Shuri." She mumbled softly, and approached the younger woman with outstretched arms. She wrapped her in her arms, shifting back and forth as she said, "kudala kakhulu." (It has been much too long.)

"Ndicela uxolo ngokungandwendweli. Kodwa ukuba imithombo yam ichanekile, ubuxakekile wena." (I am sorry for not visiting. But if my sources are correct, you have been pretty busy yourself.)

Uxolo had nothing to say in response, no logical reasoning to excuse his being here, not even a joke to lighten the mood even further. She almost wanted to punish herself for not thinking of something sooner; they'd known from the beginning that the circumstances of their meeting was unconventional, had been aware that a day would come where they'd have to answer questions about it.

And still, all she could do was turn to face her home and watch as Bucky pulled the door open and began to stroll down her front pathway.

He must've realized she had been gone for a bit too long. Knowing him, he had probably been staring through the window blinds just for extra precaution, had watched their entire interactions from inside the house.

"Nantsi ke ngoku. Indoda eyeba intliziyo yakho." (There he is now. The man who has stolen your heart?)

Uxolo couldn't help but affirm her suspicions. Even if she thought it was best to lie about their relationship, there was no way she'd be able to hide how she felt about Bucky.

With Shuri, she didn't think she'd need to anyhow. Shuri was a young woman who scoffed at tradition and set herself in a position to lead a new, diverse, and accommodating generation. If news of their information was safe with anyone, it was safe with her.

Bucky took the path leading up to her house with grace, eyes immediately finding hers. He searched them silently, looking for any sign of discomfort or anxiousness.

It was only when she sent him a small, reassuring smile that he finally looked away from her and greeted the king. Behind her, Shuri was murmuring about starting up a match-making business.

"King T'Challa." Came Bucky's familiar rasp, eyes darting to focus on T'Challa. He extended his flesh arm for a handshake, almost certainly forgetting the proper way to greet the King of the country who had pretty much saved his life.

He wished he knew how to treat the man in front of him, wished that sort of respect came naturally. At least he remembered not to use his vibranium arm for the handshake. Though, T'Challa didn't strike him as the kind of leader who would retaliate just because he felt slighted or disrespected.

And he was right, because the King immediately clasped their arms together with a firm grip. "Sergeant Barnes."

He pulled his arm away, unable to avoid flicking his gaze back to check on Uxolo, finding her pressed against Shuri, staring back at him.

He tried to force some base into his voice, the confident, unyielding soldier he hadn't had to be in months, when he asked, "What are you doing here?"

The King considered him for a moment.

It wasn't often that he had to approach individual soldiers and warn them of incoming danger, much less an American soldier they were all growing to consider an infamous Avenger. With the Dora Milaje, they often knew of danger the second he did, if not beforehand. It was their responsibility, too, to warn and prepare the warriors of the various tribes of battle. Knocking on the doors of soldiers, or rather the door of a soldier's significant other, was new ground.

He said simply, "The White Wolf has rested for long enough, don't you think?"

Bucky morphed before their eyes.

It was almost as if the past year or so hadn't happened. The man in front of them — though it's not as if he had ever appeared overly kind or gentle — was erased to reveal Sergeant Barnes, the Winter Soldier.

He had everything but the outfit, though T'Challa supposed getting him into one was their responsibility.

"Where's the fight?" Bucky said slowly, voice gruff.

T'Challa couldn't very well relay everything he'd heard from Steve Rogers in a minute, much less without any of the documents or images to present to the well-seasoned soldier. It was best to get him up into the palace and the citadel, explaining everything he could while getting him measured and outfitted.

As much he'd received over the last few hours, time was not included. From what he knew, they had anywhere between mere hours and weeks to prepare.

"On it's way." The King surmised, "Follow me."