07
Gamora woke to the soft babbling of water. The serenity drew her from her deep slumber, ushering her back into the uncertainties of reality. Consciousness took hold, and with it came every actuality she had experienced up to then. She felt the crash in her bones. Endured the memory of that gloomy prison in her aching wrists. Suffered Tivan's betrayal each time her heart yearned for Peter, Drax, Rocket, or Groot. Gamora's reality was bleak, but she knew it was inescapable.
Opening her eyes, Gamora's previous ruminations were stifled, mouth parting in silent wonder. Her lithe body was laid supine upon a bed of grass and foliage. The cool earth tickled her injured limbs, which were carefully bundled with bandages. Some were traditional gauze, others were makeshift dressings constructed of cloth and leaves. She was unclothed, aside from a large black cloak draped upon her torso. Below her head was a precariously placed bed of fresh leaves. They smelled sweet and poignant, like raw citrus.
What is this place? She thought, raising her head aloft.
Gritting her to teeth to subdue the ensuing pain, Gamora absorbed the world around her. It was a large wood, speckled with trees, shrubbery, and an ample creek. Mountainous trees swayed above her, dancing placidly in the afternoon sun. She watched them quietly, entranced by the tranquility they commanded. As she listened to the rhythmic sounds of the forest, it dawned on Gamora how absent her surroundings were of chaos. The arrangement before her was peaceful, a sharp contrast to the turmoil she had previously endured. Grinning, she plucked a coral-colored blossom from the earth and held it to her nose.
"You're smiling," echoed an adjacent voice. "How very rare."
Beside her, Tivan stood aloft, a thicket of branches at his side. Much like herself, the Collector looked battered. His attire was mangled and his body was adorned with wound dressings. He looked weary, but wore a calm repose that obscured any apprehensions he may or may not have felt.
"It's this forest," she replied calmly, relinquishing his gaze. "I almost feel at peace here." A momentary silence descended between them in the balmy air of the woods. She kept her gaze fixed forward, while Tivan kept his trained intently on her. "I have a lot of questions, Tivan," she muttered finally, casting her mahogany-colored eyes downwards. "The first regarding the whereabouts of my clothing," she added, stealing an agitated glance at him.
"I imagine you have many questions," he replied, kneeling to where she sat. "Here," reaching forward, Tivan offered her his hand.
Gamora stared for a moment, glancing between him and his palm. Then, realizing her options were limited, she accepted his hand and was pulled to her feet. As she stood, the weakness in her legs promoted the Zehoberi to stumble. She staggered forward into Tivan's chest, clinging to him for support. Amidst the commotion, the cloak around her bosom slipped unceremoniously. Before the article could fall, Tivan caught it, wrapping it more securely around her frame.
"Thank you," she muttered, her cheeks warm with embarrassment.
"Allow me to make this easier on you," he muttered above her, his face fixed in momentary contemplation.
In an instant, Tivan gathered Gamora into his arms, lifting her into the air. She protested his actions, admonishing him and reiterating her ability to walk. He ignored her objectifications. Instead, Tivan advanced through the unfamiliar woods, hiking forward until she yielded in his arms.
"Where are we going?" She asked sulkily, holding fast to Tivan's shoulder.
"To the ship," he replied evenly. "What's left of it."
The escape vessel that ushered them from Jarvin's wrath was decimated.
Due to the severity of the impact, it was little more than a heap of wreckage. What was left of the vessel had been appropriated by Tivan, and used to create a modest encampment. A small dwelling, crafted from variety of materials of both the ship and their environment, laid between two large trees. Accompanying the abode was a sizeable fire pit, and an assortment of rations stashed inside the circular piece of scrap metal.
Tivan promptly offered Gamora food and a basin of water, both contained in metalware from the vessel. She accepted both eagerly, devouring the food in an instant. It was the first time in weeks Gamora had tasted something other than Chitauri gruel. The water, cold and fresh from the nearby brook, felt wonderful against her mouth. She swallowed the contents of the basin greedily, drinking them down until her thirst was satisfied.
Tivan observed her quietly as she drank. His hazel eyes canvassed the green-skinned beauty, watching as she set the silver basin down. Glancing up, Gamora caught his archaic eyes upon her, and stiffened with unease. After a beat, he shifted his gaze, sparing her his intense scrutiny. She could not discern Tivan's thoughts from his cryptic glower, but was glad for the sustenance he had provided. While she felt she owed her betrayer no thanks, her better self felt it necessary to recognize his actions.
"It seems you've been busy," she offered, glancing around the camp. "I appreciate the food and water."
Piqued, Tivan raised his head, muttering, "You owe me no thanks, Gamora," before running his hand down his face. An uncomfortable silence filled the air at the conclusion of his utterance. Gamora shifted and looked to the sky, observing as the afternoon sun waned into evening. The heavens melted into a rosy orange, accented with vibrant flares of lavender. As she sat upon a mound of grass, thoughts mingling with the evening sky, Tivan spoke again, his voice pitched low, "Your clothing is hanging there, on that tree."
"What?" She returned gingerly, turning her attention back to him.
"You wished to know the whereabouts of your clothing." He pointed to the tree and Gamora caught sight of her attire billowing in the wind. "I had no choice but to remove them when we landed," he continued, resting his face in his palms. "You were covered in blood. I had to sterilize your wounds. "
For a moment, Gamora pictured Tivan ushering her from the crash. She recalled, from her brief reprieve with consciousness, him hovering above her, blood seeping from a gash above his eye. She envisioned him undressing her, cleaning her wounds, and dressing them with remnants of bandages and cloth from his tunic. Although the thought embarrassed her, Gamora was overcome with unexpected softness as she considered his actions. They mitigated her resentment, but did nothing to extinguish it.
"Despite all of that, Tivan," she whispered, smiling bitterly, "I still think you're a monster." The Collector raised his face from his palms and settled his attention on Gamora. "If I had the strength to kill you, don't think for a second I would not."
Anger coursed through her body as she pictured Mo'krak. She had risked her life for that mission, hoping her sacrifice would alleviate the ill deeds of her past. Gamora laughed to herself at the notion. She had undone nothing and saved no one by finding the Xiphos. All she had done was place the sword into the hands of Tivan, a deluded being who took what he wanted, regardless of the cost. He had used her to further his own gain. Then, he traded her to the Mad Titan, knowing the fate that awaited her in her father's hands.
"Yes," Tivan began, his voice calm. "Yes, I am a monster." Rising, he made his way to Gamora, kneeling before her and leveling his aspect with her own. "I want to tell you everything."
Abruptly, Gamora raised her hand and struck him across the face.
The crisp sound of the strike reverberated through the air of their camp. Her breathing labored as she stared at his injured cheek, exhales escaping in breathy bursts. She was on the edge of tears, overcome by the immorality of his actions. Tivan made no move to retaliate. Instead, he licked his tattooed lip, massaged his cheek, and captured her smouldering gaze with his own.
"I want to tell you everything," he repeated smoothly.
"Then talk, god damn you!" She commanded, tears cascading silently down her cheeks. "Talk!"
Tivan obliged, seating himself in front of her on the cool mound of grass.
"I noticed it from the beginning Gamora," he began, staring intently at the ground. "You did not agree to sell me the orb because of the credits I offered you." Tivan picked a blade of grass, smoothing it in his fingers, before tossing it in the air. "Wealth alone could not have persuaded you to steal from Ronan and Thanos." Gamora's eyes never left Taneleer's face as he spoke. He looked crestfallen, as if a great sorrow weighed on his mind. "What did you say, Gamora, when I questioned your motives?"
The Zehhoberi inhaled deeply, recalling the memory with little effort.
"I said Xandar was in danger. I needed to hide the orb from Ronan."
A smile flitted across Tivan's lips as she spoke.
"Exactly," he replied, finally lifting his gaze to hers. "Not for credits, but for Xandar." Tivan chuckled dryly, shaking his platinum locks. "Your morality was astonishing. Your desire to save the Xandarians was enough of a motive to betray both Ronan and Thanos." Tivan lowered his head into hands, once more obscuring his features in depths of his palms. "I knew you would not decline my mission."
Tivan's words left her cold.
"You took advantage of me," she whispered, wringing her hands. "All of them warned me. They said not to trust you. I was foolish enough not to listen." Gamora dashed a tear from her eye. "You manipulated me. You used me to get the Xiphos. Why?"
Tivan did not immediately answer her inquiry. After a moment's silence, he rose from the ground, wandering to the large fire pit before them.
"I did not lie when I said the Xiphos was dangerous," he insisted, lighting the fire. "In the right hands, it could decimate entire worlds. I simply exaggerated the urgency." With the fire lit, Tivan threw several branches upon the open flames. "You served a dual purpose. Not only would you retrieve the Xiphos for me, but you would serve as a bartering chip." Tivan stole a fervent look at the green-skinned beauty, his gaze entirely absent of feeling. "Thanos would not relinquish hold of the Vivamus without a substantial exchange."
"The Vivamus?" Gamora breathed aloud, confusion evident in her voice. As the name danced in her head, a flash of blue light, coupled with a spectral voice, ushered inside her mind. It was a memory. One that she had taken with her from the temple on Mo'krak. "Quandros' dagger," she whispered aloud, unsure of how the words had emerged in her thoughts.
"That is correct."
A hint of curiosity surfaced on Tivan's face, but died promptly as Gamora rose from the ground. Her expression dripped with quiet indignation.
"I don't understand. You offered to protect me from Thanos on Knowhere." Gamora looked at him incredulously, heartbeat blaring in her ears. "Laughable as it was, if I agreed to become part of your collection, you promised to protect—"
"It was a lie," he interjected calmly. "I had no intention of protecting you from Thanos." Gamora swallowed hard. Tivan continued staring into the fire. "It was simply another means to an end. Caging you would make your deliverance easier."
Adrenaline coursed through Gamora's veins. It numbed the pain in her body, allowing her to charge towards the archaic man. He dragged his eyes from the flames, scrutinizing her approach. Her emerald cheeks were wet with tears. At her side, her hands trembled with contained rage. Unable to control herself, she vaulted towards him, punching him square in the chest. Tivan grabbed her elbow in response, jerking her forward before thrusting her upon on a nearby tree.
"I've had enough of your outbursts, Gamora," he warned, holding her fast to the trunk.
Unperturbed by his actions, Gamora glared angrily at him.
"Do you have any idea, Tivan," she muttered through clenched teeth,"What it was like being locked up on that warship? Eighteen days," she whispered furiously, "Eighteen days I was shackled like animal, eating watery meal and praying for death. No sleep, no light, no warmth." Gamora wrenched in his grasp. "I had no choice but stand there and rot in that miserable cell. Knowing that any moment Thanos could walk through my cell door!"
Tivan looked on from above, casting his archaic gaze down on her. He held fast to her arms, pinning them with ease against the massive tree. In the dwindling light, his features were swathed in deep shadows, obscuring his eyes.
"You knew, Tivan!" She cried, her voice breaking on his name. "You knew how I despised Thanos!" Her sobs were less subdued, her sharp inhales more audible. She wished she could break him down into nothing, until he was crumbling as much as she was. "You traded me like an object! For what? A sword and a dagger?" Gamora laughed in somber disbelief. "Why?"
Tivan was silent, a deep sigh issuing from this broad chest.
"Why," he began, silently. "You ask me why?" A smile ghosted across the Collector's lips. He leaned forward, meeting Gamora's eyes with a feverish intensity. "You were inconsequential to me. A pawn in a larger, more important game." Tivan's grasp grew tighter around Gamora's arms as he spoke. "Why would I throw away my once chance at freedom for a pawn?"
The tenor in his voice rose thunderously, sending a chill down her spine.
Freedom?
Abruptly, Tivan released her and made for the makeshift dwelling. Kneeling down, he procured a black bag from its depths before directing his attention back towards the Zehoberi. Stepping forward from the tree, Gamora watched him cautiously, wrapping her arms tightly around her chest.
"Would you believe me," he muttered, staring at her intensely, "If I told you I once had a wife." Gamora could not conjure the words to respond. She stared blankly at him, nursing her bruised arm with her hand. "That was millenniums ago," he added, chuckling sadly. "She died, as most things do, but not I, Gamora. I've been cursed with immortality, and thus life only crumbles around me." He wore a forlorn repose as he spoke, his words soft, but full of mourning. "People, civilizations, planets. I've watched them all perish."
Above them, the last of the evening sunbeams paled. Twilight ebbed into blackness, revealing a multitude of stars. The celestial bodies danced freely in the night sky amidst the planet's twin moons. Tivan's languid features were bathed in pallid moonlight, as were Gamora's, her pretty features engulfed in the lucid radiance of the heavenly bodies above.
"Death haunts me," he began again, voice a near whisper. "I've seen it in my dreams." Knitting his brow, he closed his eyes, a pained expression swathing his features. "Those that will rise, determined to destroy all life. I've seen them." He surprised a joyless laugh. "Don't you see? Once, Gamora, we had much in common. I too thought I could save lives." The Collector stared as his palm, flexing his fingers before tightening them into a solid fist. "I gathered artifacts. Captured living things. All in a bid to protect and preserve the universe." Tivan's features were muddled, as if the distant memory perplexed him somehow.
Gamora's features mirrored Tivan's. She was astonished. The Collector's compulsion for hoarding beings and relics was not a mere obsession. His collection had a noble purpose. At least, once it did. Time had convoluted his righteous vision into a peculiarity. It was no longer a duty, but a compulsive hobby. An addiction he fed into until it consumed him entirely. The pieces fell into place into Gamora's mind.
"Reclaim that, Tivan," she exclaimed, taking a step towards the fire. "The universe needs protecting."
Tivan smiled, biting his lip.
"I can't save the universe, Gamora," he uttered ruefully. Then, more to himself, whispered, "I could not even save Matani." Remembering himself, he drew his gaze back to her. Resolve burned in his eyes. "I've grown tired of watching life and death repeat itself over, and over again, and over again!"
Abruptly, Tivan opened the black bag at his side, pulling from its depths the two fabled weapons. The Xiphos was just as Gamora remembered. The supple blade radiated a soft blue light, growing steadily brighter in Tivan's palm. The Vivamus, in contrast, was a rugged blade. Jagged and irregular, emitting a warm crimson glare from its body.
Gamora took a shaky step back, watching Tivan carefully. Something was about to happen. She felt it in her every atom of her body. The aura that clung about the Elder was obscure and desperate. Although she had no notion of his intentions, she was frightened by the possibilities.
"It's this curse of immortality," he mumbled to himself. "An impossible curse to break." Tivan smiled, revealing his teeth. "Or so I thought, Gamora, until I learned of the Xiphos and the Vivamus. The two Eternals put their very souls into these weapons."
"Then you hope to become mortal?" Gamora questioned, her breathing audible.
Rather than responding to her inquiry, Tivan raised the two weapons in the air. Steadily, the blades grew more vibrant. The Zehoberi gasped as the ground began to vibrate beneath her feet. Anxiously, she held onto a nearby tree, watching with alarm as the atmosphere around Tivan began to change. A bright, white light emitted from his being, casting their campsite in a silver luster. Gamora could only observe from afar, stunned by the scene before her.
"Not mortality, Gamora," Tivan's said, his voice imbued with a tenor that was not entirely his own. "The blades promise something far more valuable." Crossing the blades before his chest, a burst of pure energy surged from Tivan's body. The blast fanned the flames of the fire, blowing the blazing ashes into the air. "Together, the Xiphos and the Vivamus are fabled to be strong enough to free me." He paused for a moment, a mien of pure rapture passing through his features. "Strong enough to kill an immortal."
"Tivan!" Gamora cried, her mahogany eyes wide. "Don't!"
Before Gamora could react, Tivan broke the X of the blades.
Everything went white.
Gamora shielded her eyes. The vibrant brilliance enveloped everything. Around her, wind ripped violently against her skin. Voices, one she recognized with vague familiarity, and the other entirely alien, filled the air. She listened, trying to distinguish their words amidst the chaos around her. They spoke in a language she could not understand, each voice vivid and profound. Then, all at once, their words died out, falling into hushed whispers before vanishing completely.
The luminant white light died with the ghostly murmurs.
Bewildered, Gamora's eyes adjusted to the dark. She searched, anxiously, until she spotted Tivan upon the ground. He was perched upon his knees, hands lying limply at his sides. His face was tilted towards the sky, eyes engulfed in an ominous silver light. At his knees laid the Xiphos and the Vivamus. Neither blade radiated light. They sat solemnly upon the grass, their brilliance extinguished.
Trembling, Gamora climbed to her feet. Her heartbeat pulsed with deafening might in her ears. She watched, awestruck, as the light obscuring Tivan's gaze ebbed, revealing his familiar hazel orbs. She searched them, alarmed at their utter emptiness. Seconds later, his knees gave way, and Taneleer slumped backwards into the earth below. His fall was enough to stir Gamora out of her frightened stupor and she rushed with renewed vigor to his side.
"Tivan!" She cried, kneeling on the earth. The Collector did not stir. His body was imboile and still as a resting corpse. Arresting the neck of his tunic, Gamora shook him wildly. "Wake up, Tivan!" His head lolled limply, a sight that stroked the mounting panic Gamora felt. Removing her hands from her tunic, she ran her fingers through her hair, pulling at the chocolate-colored strands.
What do I do? She thought, wildy. Why do I care?
Gamora bit her viridescent lip, placing her hands over her temples. Why, indeed, did she care about Tivan? The man was a monster. He had exploited and manipulated her. Acted with utter selfishness and cruelty. He deserved none of her mourning, nor any of her sympathy. Gamora mused upon these thoughts, hardening her resolve, until she glanced back down at his decumbent body. The sight of his lifeless visage stroked her humanity and her anger fragmented.
He might be a monster, she thought, scrutinizing his features. But then, why save me from that ship?
Although Gamora's imprisonment was a result of Tivan's doing, he had made an effort to right his wrongs. He strove for redemption, knowing his life would soon come to an end. It was little consolation, but it was something. Absently, she glanced at the bandages on her limbs, then to the small dwelling he had crafted. Was he truly a monster? Or was he a lost soul, much like she? Gamora placed an emerald hand on his cheek, running her fingers down the length of his jaw. His face was cold, the ghost of warmth lingering scarcely.
She stared, aloof, at his resting visage, until a quiet murmur manifested in her ear.
Gamora listened intently to the whisper. Turning her head, guided by the disembodied words, she found her eyes drawn to the twin blades that had taken the Collector's life. Before her the Xiphos' sleek frame radiated azure light, pulsing in the night as it spoke quietly to her. In a trance, she reached forward, crawling on her hands and knees until her fingertips touched the very edge of the blade.
In an instant, Gamora was transported.
Kronos' deep, baritone voice vibrated through every centimeter of her flesh. She felt the Eternal in her very soul as he answered the question she kept in her heart. Could he be saved? The answer came unexpectedly and in another instant, Gamora was set free of his spell. The murmur died, but the blade continued to glow with renewed brilliance. Gamora felt as if she had been lifted from her plane of existence and placed back into reality. She felt dizzy and awry, but was imbued with fresh knowledge.
Taking Quandros' dagger, she slid the Vivamus across her palm. The blade grew bright red, flooding the ground with rose-colored light. Quandros, Kronos' capricious, violent brother, had lusted for blood and he would have it. It was not an even exchange for Tivan's life, but then it was not meant to be. Picking up the lithe blue blade, she cast down the dagger and, without hesitation, plunged the supple sword into the hilt of the Vivamus, shattering the weapon into pieces. White light pulsed from the impact, blinding the Zehoberei momentarily as a cascade of phantom cries sounded around her.
In that brief reprieve that had lasted moments, but felt like centuries, Kronos had agreed to fulfill Garmora's wish to return Tivan's life to him. In exchange, she was to destroy Quandros' dagger, purging his malicious soul from existence in the physical realm. Having fulfilled her end of the bargain, Gamora set the Xiphos aside and fell to her knees where Tivan lay. With bated breath, she watched the Elder fervently. His features were set in a corpse-like repose that lacked the tranquility which death had promised. Behind her, the fire crackled silently, the stars above twinkled, and to her surprise, Tivan's fingertips stirred.
Taneleer was alive.