Well here is it, an AU where N'Jadaka – Erik Killmonger is raised by T'Chaka, though not everything will be fluff. I hope you all enjoy!

Black Panther is the property of Marvel

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T'Challa was ten when his father returned from a mission overseas, his steps were heavy beneath the mantle of the Black Panther and his eyes were two yawning crescents, with such anguish and pain that the young prince dropped his eyes and focused instead on the boy at his sides. There were tears in the boy's eyes, deep eyes that tug at the soul, that look like they were happy once, and around the boy's neck was a ring like the same on T'Challa's father's finger, one that T'Challa will one day wear when he sits upon the throne. A large leather book was tucked under the young boy's arms, he looked about eight and that his whole world had fallen apart.

"T'Challa this is your cousin N'Jadaka."

His father said in that rolling booming voice, and there was a world of something behind those words that he couldn't grasp at even as T'Challa's eyes widened in surprise as he observed the young boy, N'Jadaka, in a new light. T'Challa observed the tears with a new severity, because T'Challa had an uncle, a man who had always been a distant spectre of his memories, but the uncle that sneak's sweets at the summer festivals, and always had a joke brightening his eyes. And he was not there but his son is, and the realisation is slow and fast with all the punch of one of his training sessions.

T'Challa knows life more than he knows death, in tiny hands and eyes wide with wonder, but he had experienced lost so he mustered a warm smile for the younger boy, and the ice, burning ice that was like a ceaseless fire diminished slightly in the wake of a small half-grin.

It was later after the news of his uncle's death was announced to the council of elders, and after N'Jadaka had been shown to a room right next to T'Challa's. When his home lingered with the quiet of the night, that he sneaked out of his room. It was beyond late and he knew if he was caught he would be disciplined terribly, but T'Challa couldn't resist the inescapable need to check on his young cousin. So, he left his room and crept into the one next to his own.

N'Jadaka's room is bare where the young prince slipped inside, clean and airy with all the sense of a guest room and nothing of a home. It made T'Challa frown even as he caught sight of his cousin leaning against a wall by one of the windows. He was nothing but a shadow, head to his knees and hands around something close to his chest in the light of their city, and there was something mournful and sorrowful in the almost prayer-like position.

N'Jadaka turned as the light from the hallway filtered inside with a warm glow, and T'Challa stood there wordlessly, hesitant and unsure if he was welcome but patient enough to wait. After a moment his cousin nodded, and the young prince took it as an invitation and paced across the shadow swept room, hues of gold burnt ember in the darkness adding some warmth to the otherwise cool darkness.

T'Challa settled beside his cousin wordlessly, the two gazing out at the bright collage of lights, flickering like a sea of endless fireflies. T'Challa knew that he would never tire of the sight of the city of Wakanda, with its endless vibrant beauty, the architecture, the people, it was his home, and glancing at his younger cousin the prince hoped it could be N'Jadaka's too.

"My father used to tell me of the sunsets of Wakanda, he said they were the most beautiful in the world."

His cousin said, quiet and hesitant as if he was unsure of speaking of the man who will be buried at sunrise tomorrow. T'Challa didn't know what to say, so he remained silent and they sat there in the calm silence the night bustling around the two young boys.

"What was California like?"

He finally asked, searching for something harmless and to satisfy the curiosity he harboured over his relatively new cousin.

"The skies are always blue, and the beaches are golden, I use to play basketball every day with the kids in the neighbourhood…"

N'Jadaka trailed off and sniffled obviously homesick, and so very lost in the world he is quite suddenly was a part of, and T'Challa remembered what that was like, remembered missing home, or his father when he was on a mission. So T'Challa slid a little closer to his cousin and didn't comment on the soft sobs that breached the near soundlessness of the room and he tried to provide what comfort he could with his presence.

"He killed him… your father."

N'Jadaka stated painful and short in the silence, like the strike of a spear through T'Challa's heart, the word, father, something broken and lingering with longing. He swallowed the words down like the bitter medicine he was forced to take when he had a fever as a young child. He wanted to protest, wanted to yell, deny, demand anything to take the words and throw them back into the void of night lingering outside the window, but instead, he said, "I'm sorry N'Jadaka."

T'Challa knows it was not his actions he was apologizing for, maybe it was his father's, maybe it was for all that had befallen his cousin. N'Jadaka looked startled at the apology, as if he hadn't expected to receive one, or maybe that T'Challa had apologized instead of responded in denial, and suddenly his cousin's eyes were a touch warmer where they glow in the light of the city.

His cousin remained silent for a moment more, but the air between the two was lighter, and for a single moment they were just two boys in the dark observing the world go by, no responsibilities, no future waiting on their shoulders, no morning to dread. N'Jadaka turned to T'Challa then, the moment of peace gone and in the dark fear danced across his cousin's features, no longer did he look too old, too wise for his age. T'Challa was reminded in that moment just how young his cousin was.

"What will happen to me?"

N'Jadaka asked quiet and so very young sounding as he looked at T'Challa. The older boy paused for a moment thinking like the King his father wanted him to be, to think realistically, of succession, of his father's eyes. And then he thought with his heart and he replied, "We're family, you are welcome here."

The words seemed to cut the tension holding his cousin up as the youth slumped against the wall, turning away to glance out at the city and beyond the broad plains of Wakanda and the towering forests.

T'Challa gazed with him for a moment before he smiled as an idea occurred and he reached over to tug on N'Jadaka's hand. His cousin turned, an inquisitive look gracing his features and an excited smile stole across T'Challa's face as he said proudly with all the logic of a child, "If we're family, then you need to meet Shuri."

Confusion fleeted across N'Jadaka's face at the unfamiliar name, but T'Challa gave the younger boy no time for questions as he pulled the smaller boy to his feet. T'Challa led him from the room with soft feet and into the hallway, peering out the doorway for guards before leading him forward. The prince paused only once on their mission, to glance behind him and smile at his cousin who was both excited and curious before he continued pulling them through the long corridor on silent feet with watchful eyes.

The two paused outside of one of the doors, ornate metal glinting in the lamplight of the hallway, much like all of the other doors in the hallway, though close to T'Challa's parents'room. The prince turned to his cousin and smiled at the confusion still painting his features as N'Jadaka mouthed a confused, "What?"

T'Challa simply shook his head and pushed a finger against his lips, before pushing the door open with a soft soundless whoosh and leading his cousin inside.

Shuri was resting in the cradle swathed in blankets, and so incredibly small and fragile like the butterflies T'Challa sometimes saw in the gardens. But her eyes already burned with fierce fire when she was awake disavowing such a notion and T'Challa loved her all the more for it. The two children paused and leaned over the crib to look at the infant, and T'Challa caught the awe that painted his cousin's features at the sight of the small infant.

"N'Jadaka this is Shuri."

T'Challa announced fondly gazing at the sleeping babe, who at the mention of her name gurgled happily and opened her eyes staring at the two of them curiously, one small chubby arm reached towards T'Challa. Laughing quietly the young prince let his baby sister's tiny hand wrap around his finger even as he glanced up and grinned at his cousin.

Tentatively, with a nod from the older boy, N'Jadaka let his own hand reach inside the crib, and Shuri grasped onto one of his fingers gurgling happily with all the innocence of a child. Usually, his younger sister was wailing her lungs out as if trying to announce her presence to the world but tonight she was quiet and it brought a gentle smile to T'Challa's lips to see the infant smile up at the two of them. She reminded him of what he protected, who he would protect as King. T'Challa glanced at his cousin, heartbeat suddenly loud in his ears he promised, "We're family N'Jadaka we protect our own. I'm going to protect you, just like I'm going to protect Shuri."

N'Jadaka blinked eyes wide at the proclamation before he nodded and grinned, smile blinding like the sun coming out of hiding on a cloudy day.

The two children froze as they heard the gentle patter of footsteps in the hallway, echoing and rolling like an alarm bell in the small room. T'Challa shared a wide-eyed look of worry with his cousin, thoughts of getting caught on both their minds. Quickly T'Challa led the two boys to the far side of the room opposite the large windows and hopefully hidden from sight.

The door to the nursery slid open, and in the glow of the hallway T'Challa's mother peered inside the room, gaze concerned but warm as her eyes passed over the crib. N'Jadaka glanced at T'Challa the two holding their breaths with grins a mix of mischief and worry. With a final survey of the room and a small smile, the Queen turned away and the door slid quietly shut behind her.

N'Jadaka glanced at T'Challa and the two grinned sharing quiet giggles and the occasional glance at the door for caution. After a moment T'Challa crept back to the crib, N'Jadaka following carefully behind the young Prince. T'Challa leaned over the railing and placed a small kiss on his sister's head, before moving aside to let N'Jadaka do the same at the warm glow he found in his cousin's eyes. Shuri made a soft happy noise followed by a yawn and the two boys shared a look before creeping once more out of the room and down the hallway.

They slipped into N'Jadaka's room and to the windows gazing side by side as the sun crested the city with brilliant light hues of gold and turquoise beginning to paint the night sky.

On impulse, T'Challa turned to face N'Jadaka and watched the awe and wonder colour his features.

The two lingered in the silence basking in the sun's graceful assent as colours continued to splash upon the sky with verdant beauty.

N'Jadaka turned to T'Challa as the sun kissed the roofs of the tallest building and extended his hand, eyes serious and a little bit wise like the ancient mountains surrounding Wakanda.

"Brothers?"

It was a question, promise, offer, and plea all wrapped into one word. T'Challa felt the weight of the word, it wrapped around his heart and echoed in his ears as he clasped forearms with N'Jadaka and nodded.

"Brothers."

He affirmed and in the silence the word rang, and T'Challa smiled at his brother, and N'Jadaka grinned in return as the sun seated itself upon the skies of Wakanda.

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Thank you for reading, I hope you enjoyed the start of this fic, I am planning a few more chapters. I am also looking for a beta, preferably someone with a black background to help with the cultural aspects. Reviews/comments are always super appreciated, till next time!