A/N: Thank you very much for the kind feedback! It makes me so happy.
A/N/N: I didn't have a chance to properly look this over or proof read it
A/N/N/N: The idea to wed an Inhuman comes from the comics, in which Ronan actually did marry an Inhuman for political reasons (kinda), he actually liked Crystal. The reason why he'd like her to wear colors of royalty is because he doesn't approve of her. He wants to change her.


The Canary's Cage


02 – Granite Heart

The days where I continued to run recklessly,
I knew that if I looked back, then there would be nothing.

Her mind stirred long before her body caught up to it, as her eyes opened to question the unfamiliar surroundings. Then she remembered with a start and her heart seized in her chest with a panic. She made no plans to move her arm just yet and was in no rush to feel the pain that would undoubtedly follow. He could have broken her arm if he so desired and reasoned that she could simply use the other.

She brought her uninjured hand in front of her face and moved her fingers over invisible keys, tempting them to formulate sound. Of course, it would be impossible to play Gaspard de la nuit without both hands. The point was that she no longer felt energy like she did before and it would be easier to dispel the silly notion from her mind – that she had superpowers.

The doors to her room opened and she relaxed upon seeing Gamora standing there. They had met briefly once or twice. There was a chance that the Zehoberei did not remember her well. It was easier for the girl to remember fondly of the assassin, since she was the first being to ever extend any real semblance of kindness towards her.

"I heard you were injured," was all she said, as she walked over to inspect the Inhuman with careful thoroughness. When the girl tried inching her right arm away, Gamora had more reason than none to grab it. The brief contact elicited an anticipated wince of imagined pain, "According to Ronan, you should have healed quickly. He sent me here to confirm it."

"That can't be true, all of what he claims to know," she whispered, this time allowing the green skinned assassin to take her right arm. She bent it inwards, before outwards. The results proved the Kree to be accurate once again when there was no evidence of pain.

"He also stated that you are free to leave your quarters, should you not try to run." There was a glint of mischievousness in her dark eyes then, "Not that he thinks you're capable of doing such a thing. I believe that his unfaltering doubt could be useful…Tell me, has he defeated you yet? Are you his?"

Her lips parted to respond, but nothing came out. She hadn't at all been prepared for a question so bluntly stated, at least not one of the like.

Gamora placed a folded piece of paper inside the girl's right palm, "I'll go report my findings back to Ronan. Enjoy your reign of the ship."

She nodded quietly and waited a couple of minutes, before she opened her hand. She then unfolded the paper to see the footprints of the Dark Aster. At the right side of the ship's outline was a smudge that she couldn't seem to remove. Either Ronan was kind enough to provide her with a map or Gamora was heavily hinting towards a possible escape, should she successfully find her way to the accurate coordinates at the not so scheduled time. Both sounded farfetched, but at least that would explain Gamora's question.

What if it was just a test to see if she'd take the bait? Instead of the assassin standing there, what if she found Ronan alone in the dark halls, hammer in his hand ready to lock her away for good. He'd already discovered that he could inflict harm upon her without consequence. Now that was an unsettling thought – consequences. What would be the punishment for betraying Ronan, should she escape? At least he didn't seem to detest her, as much as he did the Xandarians.

With just a simple smudge, it was easy enough to feign innocence. She could always lie and say that she found the map while roaming if it wasn't hers to have, as ridiculous of a claim that would be. It should be easy enough, if she was permitted to look anywhere other than him, since his presence was imposing. He could probably see the truth right at the very core of a lie.

So, he was going to allow her to roam the vessel on the account that she would not try to flee? Ronan must've already known that she wouldn't attempt it, since she knew nothing about the intricacies of escaping, and that was Gamora's point. On her planet, a world like this one was a fantasy, a thing of fiction. The same could be said for the scenario. The idea that she would both commandeer a space shuttle and safely find her way back to earth was absurd.

She'd acted accordingly thus far, docile and subservient, since there was nothing else to become. Today had been changed from the moment she left Hala and boarded this massive ship. The paper in her hand was not coincidental nor an act of good faith. A pair of steely amethysts shot through her subconscious and she stilled with trepidation and she hated herself for it.

Betraying Ronan should have been a thought all along.


Korath stood at a considerable distance, trying not to make it seem so deliberate. He had information that his master would not be too pleased to learn. He thought of ways of stating the facts to make it sound more reasonable, as if losing Ronan's sought after orb was the only option he'd been given, when instead Terrian scum slipped through his fingers and left him to his humiliation. If the Supreme Accuser didn't believe him, then he would be as good as dead. There was no room for penance with the Kree. Any wrongdoings shall be cleansed with death.

Nebula was opposite of Gamora, waiting patiently, yet overall amused by the situation. She'd known the moment the Pursuer returned empty handed that things had gone terribly awry. That could only mean the fields for her, a command she'd readily accept.

"Master, he is a thief, an outlaw who calls himself Star-Lord, but we have discovered that he has an agreement to retrieve the orb for an intermediary known as the Broker," Korath explained, while at the same time imploring for Ronan to understand. He wouldn't have returned without a lead to follow. Korath too was a soldier of the Kree Imperial.

Ronan lifted his head towards him, his deep voice resonating in the quiet room, "I promised Thanos that I would retrieve the orb for him, only then will he destroy Xandar for me." He raised himself up from his throne, hammer in hand, "Nebula, go to Xandar, and get me the orb."

She approached him with a knowing smile, "It will be my honor."

Gamora spoke out, sharp as ever, like a lashing to Nebula's ears, "It will be your doom." She then looked to Ronan, "This happens again, you'll be facing our father without his prize."

"I'm a daughter of Thanos, just like you."

"But I know Xandar," Gamora insisted, trying her damnedest to appeal to Ronan, which took little to no effort considering the trust she'd capitalized on for years. Even if she did know Xandar well, she wasn't anymore welcomed there, than any other place. Through carrying out the work of her adoptive father, Thanos, and Ronan, she'd lost credibility wherever she treaded. This mission would be the last, the end of her association with the both of them.

She would give the Collector the orb and be paid handsomely. She would buyout the galaxy and hide within it through mindless expense. She would disappear forever and wade into distance of her former self. Her first act of her new life would be to escape with the Inhuman. Ronan would find out sooner or later that he had been deceived, why not leave him vulnerable? Whatever he wanted that child for would never come to pass.

Nebula wanted the opportunity, as she pushed, "Ronan has already decreed that I-"

"Do not speak for me," he snapped, Thanos's daughter or not, he was in no mood for their back and forth. He stepped closer to Gamora and held her gaze as he neared, and for a moment she'd feared he'd seen right through her, "You will not fail."

"Have I ever?" She was confident and a bit pleased with herself when he went back to his throne, with his hammer across his lap.

Nebula retired alongside Korath, the two of them like tigers pacing in their cages.

Gamora's betrayal would soon gain her a handful of powerful enemies.


'The map is not upside down and this is not a trap,' the girl mentally insisted, as she walked through the seemingly empty halls of the ship. She'd seen plenty of Sakaarian soldiers on the way in and heard them stomping down the corridors in their heavy clunky armor, but she did not see them now. She was on the right side of the vessel, pausing every once in awhile to consult the details of the map.

She stopped upon a door, deeming it as the location that was blotched on the paper. Only how would one open it? The linings of the structure differed from the doors she'd passed through to get there. She walked closer to it, half expecting it to part on its own like the others, but it did not.

"How very anti-climatic," she breathed out, shakily. She'd been holding it in. Every turn around each corner, every new door that she entered made her feel more frightened. It was like being lost in a labyrinth, a maze that would eventually unveil something she did not wish to see. Perhaps another Xandarian with their brains splattered across the floor.

She was startled when the door suddenly opened on its own accord, Gamora arms crossed over at the spastic bouts of anxiety radiating from the Inhuman.

"I thought you were Ronan," the girl laughed with a hand to her chest, finally able to breathe comfortably again. The relief, however, was short-lived, when the assassin pointed over her shoulder for her to step inside.

She extended her hand out before the Inhuman could pass and spoke lowly, "The map…"

She placed it inside Gamora's palm and continued to walk further inside the dark room with slow, cautious steps. The sound of her heart was in her ears, passing by the creatures seeming to be piloting the ship.

Ronan sat upon his throne at the far back of the room, his eyes closed as he listened to the faint sounds of the girl's movements. His senses altogether were superhuman and enhanced by the armor he wore. He could even hear the wild thumping beneath her breast. He sighed quietly, as he inhaled the air around him and could smell the oils on her skin.

He looked at her then, watching her body grow still. She was dressed in the blue gown she first boarded with, when he distinctly gave the order for new attire to be arranged. He wanted her in the rich colors of mauve, to dress her up like royalty. Not for her sake, but for his own. He was utterly disgusted with the fact that he may indeed come to need her.

Not just for the wealth of immortality, but for political reasoning as well. He might have to wed her someday, despite the fact that the Kree law does not permit it. Purebred Kree can only lie with Kree women, not that he found her to be attractive or worthy of his interest.

He gestured towards the monks with two fingers, as his dead eyes continued to bore into hers, "Bring one of the dresses from her chamber."

They wordlessly obeyed, as another set of monks came over by where she was standing beneath the pale light in the room. Her skin was white against it, hair coming down in soft loose curls that stopped just below her hips.

Her chapped lips parted to speak, "You would have me dress here?"

"I did not give you permission to speak." The edge in his tone caused her to mouth to shut completely. The monks reached for the knots of her dress, beginning to untie the bindings of her bodice. She flinched, as her arms came up to stop them. Ronan's voice surrounded her with a chill, "If you continue to resist, then I will finish it for them."

Her skin flushed visibly at the threat and soon her arms lowered at her sides. He reveled in the silent relinquish of her control and his delight was not so well-kept, when the briefest of smirks tugged at the corners of his painted lips.

She closed her eyes against his gaze and shuddered audibly, unable to escape it. Her dress fell away and she felt the cold air hit her exposed flesh. It was humiliating and it took everything in her not to run away then. Instead she felt the burning sensation of his open scrutiny. She was without flaw, having not acquired any scars or bruising by his command – something he was particular about when he weighed her worth. He wanted her unharmed and in exchange, he found her to be pure and untouched by influence – ideal.

"Fear not, Inhuman, for I do not see you as desirable." He said, as he stood up and walked over with the monks who had returned with the dress. It was absolutely stunning, but something she didn't feel comfortable wearing. She didn't want anything from him out of principle, then again what choice did she have?

She raised her arms, allowing the dress to be fitted to her body. He was close then – too close, inches away from her, perhaps to study the subdued expression she wore more convincingly, than the gown. Anyone who witnessed her outside the Dark Aster would not question her status. They would think she was a noble, just as he intended.

Even if she, herself was undeserving of his respect, the power that resided inside the girl was strong enough to demand it. That, he did acknowledge, as well as considered the thought that perhaps he did not have to destroy her in order to rule her. Maybe he didn't have to break her after all.

TBC.