A/N: Hey! I want to say thank you for alerting me about the person who stole and re-posted my story. I hope it will get removed :(. On a lighter note, so glad everyone is enjoying this pairing still! I'm having a lot of fun writing these two together. I hope you enjoy this chapter.
03
Gamora relished the feeling of the soft comforter beneath her body. It was heaven compared to the small bunk she made use of on her rental craft. Tossing in the large bed, she opened one of the bags Margery delivered to her from the vessel. The first thing she noticed was her trans-receiver. She opened it, her chest tightening as she noted the missed transmissions.
Peter Quill – (6:02:27)
Peter Quill – (6:59:15)
Peter Quill – (8:02:36)
Pinching her brow, Gamora tossed the device back into the bag. She was too exhausted at present to contact Quill. Although she felt guilty, she could not will herself return the transmissions. Far too much had happened since her landing on Knowhere, and knowing Peter and the rest of her crew, they would demand a full report of the situation. The mere thought of explaining the nature of the Xiphos to her four companions made her weary. A return message would have to wait till the morning.
Yawning weakly, Gamora began the task of removing her travel clothes. The more fatigued she became, the tighter her leather attire felt against her skin. She desperately wanted to shimmy out of the suffocating outfit and drift to sleep. Rummaging through her bag, she searched for the tank top she often wore to bed only to find Peter's familiar cassette player. Inside the device was a tape labeled Awesome Mix Vol. 1.
Pulling the headphones over her ears, she hit the play button.
"I must have been through about a million girls. I'd love 'em then I'd leave 'em alone. I didn't care how much they cried, no sir. Their tears left me cold as a stone. But then I fooled around and fell in love. I fooled around and fell in love, yes I did..."
A smile stole across her lips as she listened.
Peter.
He must have stashed the cassette player in her bag while she was in the midst of packing. The melody always reminded her of the evening the two spent on Knowhere nearly a year ago. As she lay there, the Terran's tune slowly lulling her to sleep, she slipped off the remainder of her clothing and slid the tank top on her body. A quick flick of the light switch near the nightstand propelled the room into sudden darkness. Before long, the green-skinned beauty was fast asleep.
Gamora's dreams were tame at first.
She stood aboard the Milano alone, the whereabouts of her companions unknown. Above her, the cabin lights flickered spasmodically, casting the flight deck into sudden bouts of utter blackness. The oscillation of the lights was disorienting, and tried as she might to find the backup electricity hull, she could not. The apparatus had seemingly vanished.
With a sudden, deafening pop, every light aboard the ship fizzled out.
The darkness was thick and murky. As she reached into the blackness, cautiously feeling her surroundings, a large hand arrested her searching limb. She cried out as the unknown being flung her upon the cool metal floor. She struck the deck harshly, her back throbbing at the impact. Before she could scramble away, her assailant pinned her tightly against the ground, the massive hand crushing her wrists beneath their own.
"Beloved daughter," the familiar voice bellowed. "How dare you shame me."
The grip on her wrists tightened until the bones in her cybernetically enhanced limbs snapped.
Gamora bolted upright.
The silence in the room was deafening. Peter's tape had long since finished its compilation of songs. She trembled slightly in the darkness, her body coated in a thin layer of cold sweat. Wiping the wetness from her brow, she peered into inky blackness of the room, exhaling shaky breaths.
This was not the first dream she had of Thanos, nor would it be the last.
The Mad Titan often invaded her dreams, turning them to bloody nightmares. Most were brutal. More brutal than the terror she just experienced. Though it was comparably tame, the ghostly pain that lingered on her wrists still left her shaken. While these visions of her estranged father were not uncommon, the frequency with which they occurred was steadily increasing. Gamora hoped the phenomenon owed no explanation.
As she mused over the unpleasant nightmare, a light rapping at her door became audible.
Immediately, she sat upright. A sudden awareness of her surroundings began to dawn on her. She composed herself with haste and slipped out of the large, foreign bed. Conscious of her bare legs, she fumbled in the darkness for a pair of spandex pants before making her way to the door.
"Who's there?" She asked, slipping on the black bottoms as she spoke.
Silence followed her inquiry.
Sighing to herself, she combed briefly through her dark tresses and adjusted her sleeveless top before opening the door.
"Ah," Tivan purred as the door swung ajar. "I hope I did not wake you Gamora."
Taneleer stood reclined against the wall opposite of her doorway. The embellished robe seemingly discarded, he wore only a well-fitted silken tunic. Its onyx fabric glittered iridescently beneath the light of the hallway. In his right hand were two small glasses. Both were filled to the brim with a clear liquid. Gamora observed him cautiously behind the door frame before stepping out into the hall.
"No, you didn't wake me," she murmured, crossing her arms against her chest. "What do you want?"
Smirking, he drew himself away from the wall and took several steps towards her.
"I wished to inquire whether or not you would be interested in joining me. For a drink."
Tivan raised one of the glasses in the air before presenting it to her. She stared at it for several moments, shifting her gaze from the glass to Tivan. His hazel eyes revealed little regarding his intentions. Still, Gamora was wary of the offer, unable to regard it as a simple, friendly invitation. Tivan was a businessman, and for such a person interactions were not had for the sake of enjoyment. There was always something to be gained.
Reaching forward slowly, she took the glass from his long fingers. Swirling the neck between her thumb and forefinger, she steadily inspected the contents before suddenly presenting it back to him. He stared at her with surprise, understanding evolving slowly across his languid features.
"You think I mean to poison you?" He asked, humour dancing in his eyes.
"Just being cautious," she returned. "Consider my situation Tivan."
"Very well. Let me quell your fears."
Tivan seized the neck of the glass, clutching her own hand in the process, and pressed the rim to his mouth. His eyes never left hers as he sipped down the contents. Despite several fortuitous tugs on her part, he did not loosen his hold until the entire glass was drained. As she drew her arm back, he abruptly caught it once more, pulling her slight body to the base of his chest. This time, with a softer touch.
"I do hope you trust me now," he muttered. "My intentions are not to harm you. We are allies."
His grip around her arm slackened, and she drew her arrested limb back to her side with a wary eye.
"Perhaps for now," she mouthed inaudibly, following him closely as he disappeared into the parlor.
The room was quaint and dimly lit. Tivan's sullen voice filled the air of the empty chamber as he spoke. She listened passively, busying herself instead with the couch below. With her fingers, she navigated across the plush material, tracing its pattern with the tips of her nails.
"Gamora," Tivan called suddenly, interrupting her focus. "Another glass?"
She quickly declined, shaking her head at his inquiry. The wine was potent. Its effects were slowly ebbing away at her composure. The more she felt herself slip, the harder she concentrated on intricate design.
"It seems two was more than enough."
Taneleer grinned, picking up the bottle and pouring several more ounces into his empty glass.
"You don't drink much, do you?"
"No – nothing like that at least."
"This?" He asked, motioning towards the bottle. "This the famed wine of Mahrdrois."
"Then it makes perfect sense," she replied, crossing her legs. "The most notorious drunkards in the galaxy would make the strongest liquor."
"And the finest, my dear."
Gamora sighed, staring at him briefly beneath her dark lashes. The pair had spent the last half an hour discussing trivial matters. The conversation had been light. Too light. She doubted he cared much about her treacherously long flight from Pyrus, or any other minute details he inquired about. His polite etiquette left her frustrated. With so many more pressing matters at hand – the Xiphos, the fate of the universe – conversing about wine seemed frivolous.
"Tivan," she snapped suddenly, catching him slightly off guard. "Why did you really call on me?"
The Collector reclined into his arm chair, his gaze falling to the floor before ascending back to her.
"Straight to business as always, Gamora?" She nodded in response, an expectant look upon her features. "You sounded distressed. I heard you from the parlor."
Her sable eyes widened momentarily.
"Distressed?"
"Yes, I believe you were… Screaming."
She paused for a moment.
"Screaming? I… I must have been asleep."
"Presumably so," he replied, leaning forward.
Gamora took a deep breath, angling her face from Tivan to hide her expression.
Often when she dreamed of Thanos she became vocal. Her shipmates had, on several occasions, woke her from the depths of an unpleasant nightmare. While Peter and Drax were the only two persistent enough to coax the source of the terrors out of her, they had quickly relayed the information to Rocket. It was a touchy subject, and all three erred with caution when uttering name Thanos around Gamora as of late.
Swallowing down her embarrassment, she donned her steeliest look of confidence.
"I must have had a very exciting dream," she stated nonchalantly, shrugging her slender shoulders."But thank you for your concern."
"Oh, Gamora, but it wasn't excitement I heard. It was fear."
She raised her eyes to his immediately. Something in his tone caught her off guard. She felt dizzy.
"No, it's not that I... I think it's time I returned to my room."
Without pause she quitted the couch. She could not face Tivan. Not in her present state. She felt vulnerable. Her true feelings had become impossible to mask. The alcohol left her a swirling mess of emotion. It clouded her judgement, made her mind swim. Images of Thanos looped repeatedly though her head as she stumbled towards the exit of the parlor. It was the sudden, distinct feeling of Taneleer's hand on the flesh of her arm that arrested her movement.
"What is it, Gamora?" Tivan's languid voice mumbled suddenly near her ear. "What does the most deadly woman in the entire galaxy fear?"
Her breath caught in her chest.
Hold it together, her mind pleaded. Just hold it together.
"Perhaps, your father?"
An audible gasp escaped her lips.
She turned to face him abruptly, shock coloring her visage. As she gazed into his archaic eyes, every muscle in her body tightened. He knew. Her legs began to tremble, and before long her knees gave way beneath her. Tivan caught her by the waist before she could collapse. With one arm snaked around her waist, he moved her to a nearby wall, propping her against its surface for support.
"How?" She asked, her voice a near whisper. "How did you know?"
A gruff laugh slipped through his tawny lips.
"You are more transparent than you believe yourself to be." Resting his palms on either side of her, he leaned in close. The distinct scent of alcohol settled in her nose. "Your history with Thanos is no secret Gamora. What you are – what he made you – is visible to all. Your fear even more so."
Swallowing hard, she gazed up into his languid features.
"I am not afraid."
Tivan drew his face closer, eying her intensely beneath the arch of his platinum brows.
"But you are. You wronged him. Now you fear the inevitable." Gamora turned her face from his, an unsteady breath escaping her lips. "What will you do when he comes for you?" He breathed into her ear. "When you find you can no longer run or hide?"
"I don't know," she whispered, silently cursing her own lips. "I cannot escape him."
"Think, Gamora!" Tivan uttered quietly, breaking their momentary silence. "Why did you arrange to bring me the orb?"
Her brow ruffled as she stared into his heavily-lidded eyes.
"What?"
"Why did you agree to deliver the orb to me?" He asked again, evenly.
"I knew you could keep it safe. I knew he would not come here. I–" A puzzle piece clicked into place. She squinted at him in disbelief. "You... Are you saying?"
"Thanos will not come to Knowhere, Gamora. You know this as well as I."
"He fears you," she cut in, her chestnut eyes still filled with surprise.
"To some degree. He knows I am a formidable foe." Moving back slightly, Tivan raised his hand and cupped the curve of her emerald cheek. "Gamora, don't you see? I can protect you."
The audacity of his words left her stunned.
She knew it was true. He could protect her. Her value to Thanos was not enough to warrant a confrontation with Taneleer Tivan. Under his protection there was a chance she would survive if ever the Mad Titan decided to seek revenge. Still, the very notion of Tivan's offering was entirely unbelievable. The gesture was startling, and left her nearly wordless.
"I don't understand," she breathed, gazing up at his imposing physique.
Tivan smirked and drew his lengthy palm down the flesh of her cheek. His fingers settled gently near the curve of her shoulder.
"You see, Gamora," he purred, his gaze fervent. "Every sentient in the galaxy knows you cannot take something that belongs to me. If you became part of my collection, I would never allow Thanos to touch you."
Reflexively, Gamora's hands flew to his chest. Her fingers sought to distance his body from her own. Before she could shove him way, Tivan caught her by the wrists, pinning her palms to his broad chest. He held them tightly, his strength surpassing hers entirely. Even with her cybernetic enhancements, she could not overpower the ancient being hovering before her.
"Tivan, you must stop," she breathed, her voice steeped in confusion.
"When you first brought me the orb all those months ago," he whispered into her olive flesh. "I knew I would eventually have to have you. You are one of last of the Zehoberei, and such a beautiful specimen at that!"
Gamora released an unexpected laugh. The incredulous nature of his proposition, coupled with the alcohol in her system, rendered her mind hazy and disheveled.
"You could not keep in a cage, Tivan," she muttered with an accompanying chuckle. "I would kill you if you tried."
"Doubtful," he returned, his listless voice cryptic. "Besides, I would not keep you in some cage." Tivan pulled away slightly and leveled his eyes with her own. "I would house in a most comfortable enclosure."
Gamora shook her head, disbelief coloring her features. The smell of alcohol was poignot on his breath.
"Consider," he whispered. "Consider how perfect of an exchange it will be. Once you retrieve my artifact for me, I will take you into my custody. Your safety will be ensured, and I too will acquire something I desire. You - a most perfect specimen of a quite nearly decimated race of people."
"Do you really think I would I agree to be part of your zoo?" Angrily, Gamora tried once more to wretch her hands from his hold. "You're drunk, Tivan. Pull yourself together!"
Drawing away suddenly, Taneleer regarded her sullenly beneath his towering shadow. His brow creased, an unidentifiable emotion transcending his features. Sensing the change in his demeanor, Gamora seized the opportunity and wrenched her hands free from his chest.
With a swing of her newly liberated palm she planted a firm slap across his face. The impact was just enough distraction for her to squirm away from the wall where he held her. Taking several step backs from him, she watched cautiously as his expression grew more sober.
"If it wasn't obvious enough already, I decline your offer of servitude." She stood straighter, surveying him caress his injured jaw. "However, I will find the Xiphos. Not for your benefit, Tivan, but to secure the safety of the lives of this galaxy."
Satisfied, she turned from him and took departed, her long tresses shimmering beneath the hallway lights as she disappeared down the corridor.
Tivan chuckled lightly. The dull ache in his jaw and the metallic taste of blood in his mouth was nearly comical. Raising two fingers to his lips, he sampled the damage. The glossy, red liquid sparkled on the tips of his fingers. He massaged it between his thumb and forefinger briefly before wiping the fluid on his tunic.
He would accomplish his aim.
A smile passed across his lips, revealing his blood stained teeth.
Somehow.