T'CHALLA

They came upon the city in a gentle tide, with the wind in their sails. Unlike the other three ships in their company, The Torrent required no oars or men to row them; she swam with nothing but her sails. It was a comfortable ride, one fit for a king. She was the most advanced ship in the Wakandan fleet, and she was the ship that his father chose to represent Wakanda as they made their voyage across the world. As T'Challa stood upon the deck to watch the city grow closer, he reflected that he would much rather be home than visiting some backwater hovel that barely qualified as a city.

They had toured the lands of Yi Ti, where they dined with the God Emperor Bu Gai. They then feasted at the isle of Leng, where T'Challa's father traded wine with the empress. They stopped at Asshai, where they listened to sorcerers and priestesses weave tales of their fortune and misery to come. They had visited all the free cities, from Volantis to Braavos. And now they had come to the sunset kingdom, the land of the andals and the first men.

And miles away T'Challa could smell the scent of horse piss.

As he stood upon the deck and saw the red castle loom larger by the passing second, T'Challa reflected on what started the voyage.

There had been a disturbance near the basilisk isles and as king of Wakanda and the Black Panther, his father lead the investigation. Four remote villages had been raided, and the population was going to be sold off as slaves. As usual, the Black Panther did what was expected of him; the raiders were defeated, and none told the tale of Wakanda. Except for a man called Klaw. He escaped on a small raft, and soon rumors of a secret nation in Sothoryos had spread across Essos. His father chose to go on a voyage to every major port city in the known world, to let the people see and understand what Wakanda was.

"We have been a secret nation for generations," his father told him, "and we can no longer afford to be one. The world knows we exist, and so we must prove that we deserve to exist."

Yes, but do even the Westerosi deserve to live in a city like this?

Even from miles away T'Challa could spot a hundred problems with the city's design. It clearly was built to withstand a siege, and only that. Sure, the red keep was impressive with its towering spires and high walls, but the rest of the city was poorly made. The walls were built for a certain number of people, and they hadn't been built to expand. Soon the population will be too big, and people will be crushed up against the walls, clamoring for space, T'Challa though disdainfully. And judging by the smell, the Westerosi had yet to master the art of building a proper sewage system. His ancestors were forced to do that, for in the jungle anything can attract the hordes of creatures and men wanting to destroy them.

His ancestors were the ones who tamed the jungles of Sothoryos for their own. The Wakandans were once a people without a name, without fortune, and without might. Survivors of a slave revolt in the Summer Isles, his people fled on ships like Nymeria, except where Nymeria eventually settled west, they settled east. The ships sailed all across the seas of Essos for a time. One night while passing by the shores of Sothoryos, their leader Bashenga saw a star fall from the sky. Seeing this as a sign from the gods, Bashenga had his fleet land upon the beach, and lead them into the jungle, fearless of the beasts that lay lurking within.

For five days they walked, and they lost not a single man, woman, or child. Bashenga found the fallen star on the sixth day, and proclaimed it a gift from the goddess Bast, the queen of panthers. That day Wakanda was born, and from that star came the metal that his ancestors used to conquer and tame Sothoryos. That day the helm of the Black Panther was created.

T'Challa continued to stand on the deck. They were almost at the docks now, and he saw that they were cleared in preparation for their arrival. The four Wakandan ships had been travelling for more than a year, and they had yet to run afoul of any problems. It was important that they rested here for a while, as they had no intention of stopping at any other port once they departed King's Landing.

"The city does not seem as glorious as the tales made it out to be," a familiar voice called out behind him, "it all seems so gilded, and you just want to return home."

His father came up to him, wearing a traditional court robe, a silken black vest with an arrowhead necklace. Besides that, he wore a crown emblazoned with images of a panther. His people were proud, but humble, and had no need for outrageous displays of wealth. He gave a small smile to T'Challa. "I can see it in your eyes son."

His father was in his fiftieth year of life, but he still looked like he was in his prime. At six foot six, King T'Chaka towered over most men. He looked younger than his years, but his father said that the blood of the panther ran through his veins, giving him this strength.

"A woman in Volantis told me the Westerosi are nothing but hairy barbarians that will invade Essos and rape every child." T'Challa replied with a smile.

"Aye, and someone told me Wakanda is nothing but a land full of savages more beast than man." His father said wryly. His gaze turned more thoughtful. "The Westerosi are far from a perfect people, but can you say every civilization is perfect?"

T'Challa thought about that question for a moment, recalling a moment from their travels in Yi Ti.

Emperor Bu Gai had prepared a lavish feast for them, and they had dined on the best eastern cuisine in the world. Bu Gai spoke of history, trade agreements, and the two pretenders that had proclaimed themselves the rightful rulers of Yi Ti. A day before that whilst visiting the grand markets of Yin T'Challa was approached by an agent of the orange emperor Pol Qo, and was told about how Bu Gai was a false emperor. After dining with Bu Gai, his father found a letter in his chambers from the sorcerer beyond the Moon Mountains. Three men had told them who was the rightful ruler of Yi Ti, and his father had dismissed all of them once they set sail to Leng.

"Three men can say they deserve to rule a land," stated his father bluntly when T'Challa asked who they should support "but time will be the true judge of that. We will support whoever time chooses."

A shout came from the helmsman, and T'Challa felt The Torrent glide into the docks. A large greeting party had gathered, waiting for their arrival. The ship jolted slightly as the crew dropped the anchor, and T'Challa saw men tie the ship to port. Trumpets blasted, and his father turned to him. "That is the sound of the future calling. Let us go and meet it."

His father gave a shout, and various guardsmen formed up around them. Four Dora Milaje accompanied came up from below deck, and joined in formation behind T'Challa. The Dora Milaje was the elite guardians of the king and his children. Each was chosen from a daughter of a tribe leader and trained in every Wakandan combat style. The four were wearing their standard armor of tiger leather with a curved sword at their belt.

Once their group had formed up, they made their way off the Torrent. The ship was rocking softly in the stable docks of the city, and there was hardly any difficulty getting from ship to land. There was at least three dozen armed men waiting for them at the edge of the docks; most of them in golden armor. Two were wearing white armor and had cloaks as pale as salt.

A man in what looked to be in his thirties approached them, wearing a peascod with a small pin attached to the left breast. He had the white skin that was characteristic of all Westerosi, but he was far paler. He's likely a north man, T'Challa could see the man sweating profusely; he was clearly not used to the heat. He gave a small smile towards him as he began to speak.

"Your grace," he said respectfully, bowing his head to his father, "I am Lord Eddard Stark, hand of the king. I'm here to escort you to the Red Keep."

"I suppose we should get on our way then." His father said with a smile, speaking easily in the common tongue of Westeros.

The escort took them through the streets of King's Landing, and the smell only got worse the further they got into the city. They were passing through what was known as Fishmonger's Square, and a variety of aromas were swept into T'Challa's nostrils as he walked through the markets. He was treated to the unpleasant sight of someone emptying a waste bucket out into the streets.

No sewage system, so they empty their waste like savages would, T'Challa thought disdainfully.

His father took it all in stride and continued to walk, keeping his head high. Their group certainly made a queer sight for the citizens of King's Landings; many were gasping at the Dora Milaje and commenting on their skin color. His father was walking besides Lord Stark, making polite conversation with him.

"Does it snow in the north, Lord Stark?' His father asked curiously.

Lord Stark seemed surprised at the question. "Yes your grace, it snows quite often in the north. We often have summer snows that come in. It's a lot harsher in the winter I'm afraid."

A wistful look appeared on his father's face. "All my life I have known nothing but the heat of Sothoryos. Winters there are nothing but small drops in temperature. It is why this city's heat does not bother me." He smiled at Lord Stark. "Snow is almost a song in Wakanda. Seeing it with my own eyes would prove to me that it exists, give me validation of a boyhood fantasy. For you snow is likely the same as rain; just a normal occurrence."

"Aye, but in a city like this, every day I wish for snow to start falling." Lord Stark replied.

They were at the gates of the Red Keep now, and it indeed was the grandest thing in the city. The towering red towers and walls left an immediate impression on T'Challa, and he was impressed at how well designed it was. The keep could easily hold off a thousand men or more, and within its walls there were more defendable positions.

The gates parted and the group was led through the courtyard of the keep and into what looked to be the Great Hall. It was large and rectangular, and they entered on the far side. When T'Challa came inside he noticed immediately that the Throne was placed at the far end of the room at an elevated position. The only way a seat of swords can look more intimidating is if it's above you, T'Challa thought. The Targaryens clearly knew what they doing when they designed it.

The hall was flush with the nobles and highborn of King's Landing, all greeting them with smiles and curious stares as they made their way towards the end. Lord Stark was at the head of the party and was the first to greet the king.

"May I present King Robert Baratheon, King of the Andals, the Rhoynar, and the First Men, Lord of the Seven Kingdoms, and Protector of the Realm." Lord Stark stated in a grand voice, gesturing towards King Robert.

The only thing more excessive than a throne made out of swords seemed to be the man sitting on it; T'Challa could tell right away that King Robert was a man of extremes, and those extremes had taken a toll on his body. He was overweight, and what looked to be a once powerful body was hidden under layers of fat. His eyes were tired and distant, and his face was marked with a sad frown.

Next to him sat one of the most beautiful women T'Challa had ever seen. Queen Cersei had more than retained her form unlike her king. Her long blonde hair framed a very comely face, and she wore a well-practiced smile.

"King Robert, may I present King T'Chaka, the Black Panther, the ruler of the one true nation in Sothoryos, Wakanda." A herald announced. "With him is his son, Prince T'Challa, the heir to the helm of the panther, and future ruler of Wakanda."

Both T'Challa and his father bowed respectfully. His father then rose and met Robert's gaze. "Many thanks for hosting us, your grace. The gratitude of Wakanda will be yours until you pass from this earth. I have heard tales of your victory over the dragons even in Sothoryos." His father clapped twice, and one of his servants came forth carrying a chest, longer than its width. "As a gesture of goodwill, we have had our finest craftsmen make gifts for you and your family. The most elegant of which, is this."

His father gestured towards the servant who opened the chest revealing what was inside. A collective gasp rose from the crowd, and King Robert eye's came alive at the sight of the gift.

"This Warhammer was forged with the best metals we have, and there is no equal in the Seven Kingdoms to its strength, except for Valyrian Steel."

The hammer truly was a thing of beauty. It was gleaming silver with ebony drawings that snaked its way around the body of the hammer. The drawings depicted a stag leading other animals to victory against a three headed dragon. The servant presented it to King Robert, and he took it with boyish wonder in his eyes.

The irony of it was that his father lied. The best metal they had would never be taken off the soil of Sothoryos.

"It's been ages since I held a weapon like this." King Robert said softly, marveling at the hammer before standing up. "The hospitality of the Seven Kingdoms is yours, from one king to another."

The audience burst out into applause at this point, and T'Challa resumed his usual stance. Court was clearly planned and orchestrated beforehand; there was a certain element of theater to the whole thing.

"You will stay in the finest guest chambers we have, and you will sit beside me at the hand's tourney in a few days. Welcome to Westeros."

With that line the court was dismissed, and the audience began to shuffle their way out of the hall. Robert stayed and lingered with his father, talking of battles and other kingly things. T'Challa rushed to the departing Eddard Stark; he had a question to ask this man, one that his father didn't know about.

"Lord Stark, if you could wait one moment."
Lord Stark gave a tired smile to T'Challa. "What is it you need of me, my prince?"

T'Challa studied the man carefully before speaking. "I have heard tales of a famous knight who fights only with his shield. They say he stopped a Valyrian steel dagger with it."

Eddard Stark chuckled to himself. "Ah, you're speaking of Ser Steven Rogers. He's one of the most honorable men I know."

T'Challa smiled to himself. There was only one metal in the world that could match Valyrian steel, and it was only found in Wakanda.

"If you have the time my lord, I would very much like to meet this man." And ask him how he got his hands on Vibranium, T'Challa added silently.

AN: Guess who's baaaack! Now I know I didn't update this as quick as I updated the other chapters, but please consider something: I am a human being, with emotions and feelings and friends. I occasionally go out and do human things such as mingling with other people and go see movies. As much as I would like to be an amorphous sack of ooze that does nothing but hammer out stories all day, I'm not. So for the duration of the story's life cycle I'll be posting a new chapter every Wednesday. This will give me more time to write multiple chapters within a week. And I will need time to myself, for college is coming.

In other news, I have finally managed to get my hands on a beta, the oh-so wonderful Romance On Express. The previous chapters are going to get a face lift very soon along with this one.

Also random trivia: T'Chaka and T'Challa's journey around the world was inspired by Peter the Great's visit to European countries. Look it up kids, its interesting. As for why Wakanda is placed in Sothoryos, I put them there because frankly it makes the Wakandans even more badass. Sothoryos is described as a land full of plagues and giant monsters, and for the Wakandans to be the only people to truly conquer it makes perfect sense.

Also turns out I cant remove a review I posted on my own story. Woops. There's your author's rambling for the week, so NEXT TIME ON A SONG OF HEROES:

A certain Steve will appear...