#Yondu's ways of parenting might not be the best but deeply he loves Peter | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

bevioletskies · 6 years

Text

everybody wants to rule the world [2/8]

characters: peter/gamora, guardians-centric

summary: peter is the one and only heir to the celestial throne. gamora is expected to successfully lead the titans to conquer the galaxy. a political alliance is in the works, and there may or may not be wedding bells in the air.

alternately: peter and gamora find themselves in an arranged marriage and want nothing to do with it, but might need each other more than they think if they want to escape their genocidal fathers forever.

word count: 13.2k

a/n: warning for creepy/abusive behavior from both thanos and ego towards their respective children throughout the entire fic. also note that this AU is very heavily based on the MCU versions of themselves, where things are basically only different because yondu took peter to ego after all.

extra warning for slightly graphic descriptions of physical abuse of both ego towards peter and mantis as children, and thanos towards gamora and nebula as children.

fic title is from the song everybody wants to rule the world by tears for fears.

it's my own desire...it's my own remorse...

ao3 | tag

“Gamora, was it?”

Somehow, the jovial warmth of his voice only sent shivers up her spine. Slowly, she turned on her heel, bowing her head in greeting. “Yes, your highness. Are you headed to breakfast as well?”

“As a matter of fact, I am,” he said cheerfully. “I hope you don’t mind if I walk with you. And please, you’re part of this family now - call me Ego.”

I certainly will, she thought snidely, though she only gave him a vacant smile in return. “This is rather forward of me to ask, but I was wondering if you could explain your Celestial powers in more detail. Your son did a fine job in displaying the extent of his, but I imagine with a millennium more of experience, there must be something to show for it.”

He fell into step beside her as they walked towards the dining hall at a leisurely pace, his shoulders a little too close to hers for comfort, though she supposed that, at the very least, he hadn’t put his arm around her the way he had done to Peter yesterday. Small mercies. “Well, now, I can’t go sharing all the family secrets just yet, can I? You’ve got to earn them, sweetheart. But what I can tell you is there really are no limits to what I can do, what I can create, with just a little bit of light.” Ego pulled a rose seemingly out of nowhere and held it out to her. She accepted it with another smile and the full intention of disposing of it later. “Peter, he’s a good kid, but he lacks the focus required to master such a precise skill. But with a million or so years of practice, he’ll get there.”

She looked at him inquisitively. “So you’re both immortal?” she asked, twisting the stem of the rose between her fingers.

“As long as the light in this planet carries on,” he nodded sagely. “I suppose it’ll be a sad day for Peter, the moment you come to pass. I raised that boy from childhood, I know him well. Too well, you could say. And I’ve never seen him so taken with a girl before.”

“I believe his interest in me is out of intrigue, rather than attraction. I must be very different to the women he’s encountered before, considering my...history,” she said diplomatically. “Where did this ‘light’ of yours originate from?”

“I can’t explain it really,” Ego hummed thoughtfully. “It’s like I just...popped into existence, just like that. It took me hundreds of years to even fully form, and then hundreds more to really understand and harness my powers of creation. But I gotta tell you, and this is such a dad thing of me to do, bragging about my kid, but Peter got a handle on the light the moment I explained it to him. I knew he would. He’s always been so clever, so curious. He made a little ball, asked if we could play catch. A real charmer, my boy,” he chuckled.

Gamora sighed internally, her mouth tensing in frustration. Clearly, there was no escaping talking about Peter, and despite her admitted curiosity about her future husband, they were only a couple minutes away from joining the others, and she had a feeling she wouldn’t get a better opportunity to learn more than right now. “You clearly care about him very much,” she lied. “He spoke fondly of you as well.”

“Did he now?” Ego looked pleased by this - of course he did. “He’s a sweet kid, my son - or should I say, a good man. Could use a little discipline every now and then, but something tells me you’ll be able to keep him in line.” He waggled a finger at her. Am I his wife, or his keeper? Gamora thought, biting her tongue before she could let it slip. “He’s a bit of a flirt - got that from me, I’m afraid to admit - and he’s always going after girls who don’t have much...direction. When Thanos approached me, wanting to arrange a little something between you two, I honestly couldn’t be happier. After all, I figured he was the kind of man who knew how to keep his kids in check.” She felt the sudden urge to vomit. “You’re the kind of girl Peter needs in his life.”

“Am I the kind of girl he wants, though?” she challenged, still vaguely nauseated. “You can't possibly discredit all the women he’s ever been interested in based on one line of thinking. They could be quite valuable on their own merit. Besides, what he needs and what he wants can be very different things. As his father, I would imagine you have his best interests in mind.”

“That’s the thing about being a parent,” he said, quirking an eyebrow at her. “Kids don’t always know what’s best for them. You have to push them in the right direction. Make them see what they should really want. I’ll bet ol’ Thanos is good at that, hey?”

Gamora fell silent at this as the doors to the dining hall came into view. An attendant that she had never seen before moved to open it for them, bowing deeply in greeting. She couldn’t help but shudder one last time as Ego swept into the room without sparing her another glance, and briefly wondered how he could possibly reconcile his parenting philosophy as the right one.

She slid neatly into the chair between Peter and Nebula, the latter clearly sullen at being abandoned in the guest wing. As the servers began setting out large platters of fruit and bread to start, Peter carefully nudged her arm. “Hey,” he said softly. “Did Dad say anything to you just now?”

“Oh, he had plenty to say,” Gamora muttered. She bit harshly into a piece of buttered sourdough, the satisfying crunch of its crust satiating her need to break something at that very moment. “I see where you inherited your talkative...spirit. You would have thought I hadn’t accepted your proposal yet, with the way he was going on and on about the kind of man you are.”

“Oh, god,” Peter groaned, slapping a hand over his forehead. “Well. That’s...super embarrassing.”

“I was also unaware you were immortal,” she continued, spearing a piece of fruit with her knife. “I should’ve assumed, what with my limited knowledge of Celestial genetics, but I wasn’t sure if your Terran side canceled it out. Regardless, I think we should have a further discussion about your powers before we develop our plans. They would definitely come in handy in a fight.”

“I don’t like it.” He broke his bread roll in half with more force than she had seen anyone handle bread before, watching it crumble to bits between his fingers. “It sounds cool at first, being immortal. But then you realize it means losing the people you love. And not just once, and not just one group of people, but...everyone you ever meet. Over, and over, and over again. Someday, I’m gonna wake up, and…” His eyes flickered across the table, where his sister was currently nibbling on her toast, lost in her book. “...and Mantis won’t be there anymore. I’ll have to watch my little sister get old while I stay exactly the same.”

“That does sound difficult,” she admitted. She found herself at a loss for words again, unsure of how to respond when Peter became so melancholy. For someone who came across as very easygoing, his unexpected display of emotions always caught her off-guard. Her eyes went to the head of the table where Ego was sat, a full spread of food already waiting for him, his gaze roaming greedily across the selection as he filled his plate with pastries and meat. “I know you already showed us the training facilities, but are any of the spare rooms in your quarters suitable for combat? We can’t risk your father coming across us while we practice if we’re to pretend we’re unaware of his plans.”

“Right, good idea,” he nodded, brightening a little. “I can shuffle some stuff around, clear some space. When do we start?”

“Oh, Peter,” Ego called across the table very suddenly, as if he had a thought so important that he needed to interrupt the second it came to fruition. Gamora suspected he thought every idea of his needed to be heard. “I can’t believe I haven’t asked already! Have you decided on a wedding date yet?”

“Um.” Peter glanced at Gamora in uncertainty. That was one discussion they had left out of the conversation entirely - their actual wedding. “Next week?”

“That soon? It should be a whole week’s worth of festivities, a celebration for our people to partake in, with esteemed guests from across the galaxy! Nothing’s too good for my boy,” Ego boasted. Mantis shriveled a little in her seat, though her nose was still buried in her novel. Gamora wasn’t sure if she had seen Ego even address Mantis’s presence since he had returned from his trip. “We’ll need a little more time than a week, Peter.”

“Yeah, but...I think Gamora would prefer a small wedding, Dad,” Peter hinted. “Making it a big deal would be a bad idea, especially if we invite people from all over the galaxy, considering her...reputation.” He glanced at her quickly to make sure he hadn’t caused any offense, but she seemed to have understood his meaning.

“Not even married yet, and you’re already listening to your wife. Attaboy.” Ego pounded a fist against the table triumphantly, causing the dishes surrounding him to rattle. “I told you, Gamora, he’s a good one. I raised him right.”

“I’m certainly...impressed,” she said weakly, though inside, she couldn’t help but contemplate the number of ways she could hurt Ego with the butter knife she was currently holding.

“Well then, next week it is,” Ego grinned. “Though we gotta have some guests, Peter, it can’t just be the people living here...”

It was another hour before breakfast was finally over - or rather, Ego had finally stopped listing off every person of status he’d ever met - and the two of them slipped away, back to Peter’s quarters to clear out one of the spare rooms. “This used to be a playroom,” Peter explained at Gamora’s raised eyebrow regarding the dinosaur posters. “All this junk, it’s mostly just boxes of old toys and books, but we can put ‘em in my study for now.”

They worked in amicable silence for the next thirty minutes, shuffling boxes upon boxes of things down the corridor into the study, before returning to the now-empty playroom, collapsing on the floor to rest, their backs barely propped up against the wall. “You really do live a life of excess, don’t you,” Gamora commented. “You wouldn’t think one single person could occupy this much space, own that many things.”

“Well, it’s not exactly a charmed life,” Peter shrugged. “Sure, I'm certainly not down on my luck. But my dad still has his moments, whether it’s with me or with Mantis. And it’s not like all this...stuff makes it any better. All I really need is my sister, my people, and this.” He unearthed a small rectangular object from his belt that she had never seen before, as it was mostly obscured by the long capes and jackets he always wore. It looked to be an old-fashioned piece of technology, something that likely came from his native Terra.

“What is it?” she asked.

“It’s my Walkman. It’s a music player.” He held it out for her to take, his gaze softening as she delicately turned it over in her hands, tracing her long fingers over the white lettering. The paint looked brand new despite the slightest dent in the casing. She wondered if he occasionally repainted it by hand, or maybe used his Celestial abilities to repair it somehow. Clearly, it was his most prized possession. “It was my mom’s. She made these mixtapes of songs that she loved and wanted to share with me. We’d go out to this big field by our house, lay down in the grass, and listen to them over and over again until I knew every word, and then again so I could sing along. It’s...the only thing I have left of her.” He swallowed thickly.

“You loved your mother.” It wasn’t a question. Gamora ran the pad of her thumb over the buttons, careful not to press anything. Music was just one of many luxuries she could never afford. Maybe it was something she could indulge in while she was here, what with the kingdom being so “lax”, as Peter had described it. “You mentioned yesterday that you weren’t sure if you loved your father.”

“It’s not really something I like to dwell on. Why?”

“Because there’s a strong chance that this plan of ours will only find its conclusion in your father’s death.” She placed the Walkman back in his lap, her gaze traveling to the wall opposite them. It was now barren, devoid of movie posters and yellowed newspaper clippings. “And I have faith in you, Quill, I surprisingly do. But I’m starting to doubt that you’ll be able to follow through if you do, in fact, love him. I need to know that I can count on you.”

To her dismay, Peter immediately scrambled to his feet, stumbling backward like she had shot him. “That’s not what we agreed on!” he hissed. “You said you weren’t gonna go along with Thanos’s plans, but that’s exactly what he told you to do!”

“Quill - ”

“Oh, I see how it is now!” he exclaimed. “You’re just trying to convince me that I’m working with you, not for you!”

“I thought I made it obvious that your father would have to die. I’m not trying to convince you of anything but of your belief in me. Please, just listen to me,” Gamora begged, beginning to sense a ripple of unease in the air - or at least, that’s what she thought it was, until she noticed the tendrils of lights seeping in between his fingers, swirling tauntingly around his clenched fists. She got to her feet as well, holding out her hands in caution. “Quill…”

“I must be freaking insane to not see what was going on until now,” he muttered, and she suspected it was mostly to himself. He released his fists, though she got a glimpse of the grooves his fingernails had left in his palms, deep enough to draw tiny pinpricks of blood. Swerving on his heel, he stormed off towards the door, continuing to mumble under his breath as he did.

“Quill, don’t you dare go anywhere.” In one swift motion, Gamora yanked a small blade out of her holster and flung it towards him with the utmost precision, watching as it landed mere inches away from the doorknob. He startled with a yelp before spinning back around to face her.

“No, you know what? I’m not insane, you’re insane! He’s my father. He’s blood. Did you forget that whole thing where I said everyone else on this planet will die if he does? Or do you just not care? How is the plan a success if we end up killing all of my people, and how do I know you’re not gonna string me up and gut me like a fish the second this is all over?” he spat, striding over to her with a dangerously luminescent glow in his eyes. She was alarmed to see a reflection of the cosmos in his pupils, swirling masses of the deepest blues and the darkest purples. “You must think I’m a frickin’ idiot for not realizing until now!”

“Before you start throwing around baseless accusations, I’d like to remind you that I never said this was going to be easy,” she said coldly, pulling another blade from her belt and pressing the tip of it into his throat, just enough to redden the skin, but not enough to bleed. “And you better step back. Before I get dangerous.”

To her surprise, he didn’t even blink. “I am not letting my people down. I am not killing Dad, and that’s final,” he murmured. His eyes were entirely blown out now, resembling endless pools of black ink. The whites of his eyes were completely gone.

Still, she stared him down in complete silence - now was not the time to let her fear betray her pride - and they both found themselves at a complete standstill, the tip of her blade still firm against his jugular, before she finally stepped back and stowed it away. “I should have known this wasn’t going to work,” Gamora said resignedly, turning away as Peter’s eyes faded to normal once more. “In what universe could I possibly trust a pampered prince to think of the bigger picture? To put his life on the line for the galaxy?”

“At the risk of my people,” Peter repeated incredulously, watching her pace up and down. “Are you even listening to me?”

“All you ever do is talk!” she shouted very suddenly, spinning back around to face him. He was beginning to get whiplash just watching her. “You have been sitting here in this shiny golden palace of excess your entire adolescence, and you never once thought about fighting back against your father for what he does to you? To your beloved sister? Never considered what would happen if one day, he decided to do the very same to your people?”

“You think I don’t think about that?” he snapped, stalking over to the windows, jabbing a pointed finger outwards. “Every single time I go out there and I meet with my people, when I speak to them and ask them about their days, their worries, and what I can do to help with the hilariously tiny amount of power I actually hold in this kingdom - I always wonder what would happen if they knew the kind of man my father is behind closed doors. Would they actually run like I said they would? Or would they stand and fight? And I doubt dear old Dad would wait around long enough to find out. But that doesn’t lead me to thinkin’ about killing him!”

“If you want to wait until your father crosses the line, you go right ahead.” It was now her turn to finally walk away, yanking the knife out of the door as she did. Gamora paused in the doorway, her head slightly turned, though she refused to make eye contact. “See how many people he hurts, how many he kills, before you realize what you should have done all along. It’s taken me too long to realize what I have done in the name of Thanos. To realize that the consequences of my choices are far greater than the consequences of what would happen to me and me alone, had I refused to carry through. And I don’t ever want another innocent being to die by my actions - or inaction - ever again. I have sworn to myself to never become the person I am known to be any longer, and if that means having to sacrifice one planet to save the galaxy, then I will do it. If you don’t agree, well...you’ll have to kill me in order to stop me, your highness.”

With that, she swept out of the room, leaving Peter standing there, open-mouthed and utterly speechless. ______

“Already screwed up, and you known her for how long?”

Peter groaned, slumping across his desk in defeat. “Now isn’t the time, Yondu.” He had wasted the entire day yesterday, moping around in his quarters. He hadn’t seen so much as a glimpse of Gamora since she stormed out on him. From what the attendants had told him, she seemed to have slept in the guest wing last night, and never left for meals or her so-called rigorous exercise regimen. Ego was starting to get a little antsy in response, asking whether they were already in need of marriage counseling.

He wasn’t exactly sure why it had gone so wrong so fast. Maybe he was being idiotic, assuming that Gamora’s plans were entirely different from Thanos’s endgame. Maybe he should have seen that his father had to die on the path to peace. But maybe, just maybe, he was trying to be optimistic in a situation where no one else wanted to be. As complicated as his feelings about Ego had become over the years, death had never seemed like the answer until now.

And Gamora - he had thought they were making progress before when they had engaged in combat in the gardens, a moment of levity in spite of the heavy implications of what they were preparing to do. There was a playful fierceness in her demeanor, something warm, yet powerful all at once. It was the smirk on her face that gave him hope that they were on their way to becoming true allies, maybe even proper friends. Now, it seemed like they had gotten a closer look at each other, and neither of them liked what they were really seeing.

“Well, when is the right time? Because as far as you and your daddy are concerned, you’re getting married in six days,” Yondu retorted, settling into one of the cushy armchairs with a satisfied exhale. He yanked his yaka arrow from his belt and began poking at the fire, watching the flames flicker in something of a dance. “You know he ain’t listening to you about keeping it small, right? I seen bits and pieces of that guest list o’ his, and it’s like he invited the whole dang galaxy! Don’t get me started on all the appointments and crap he got me schedulin’ for you.”

“You sure you can’t get me out of it? Gamora and I aren’t exactly in the mood, in case you haven’t noticed,” Peter grumbled. “I’d be surprised if she hasn’t run screaming from this place already. I know I would.”

“Well, if the whole idea of this damn planet hasn’t scared her yet, I doubt anything else will. She’s tough, that girl. She ain’t going nowhere without a fight.” Yondu turned slightly in his seat to better observe Peter. “What’d I say about moping, boy, ‘cause this ain’t over. Ego’s got the chefs presenting the wedding menu at tonight’s dinner, and he’s gonna pay a personal visit to Gamora’s room if that’s what it takes to drag her outta there. You really wanna let him do that? I seen the way he talks to her, it ain’t right.”

“Well, she’s made it pretty clear that she doesn’t want anything to do with me, so what do you want me to do about it?” Peter complained.

“Apologize, you dumbass,” Yondu said incredulously. “Get her on your side again. If you don’t, who knows what she’ll do. Y’know, you’d think with all them teachings about political strategy you had as a kid woulda done you some good. C’mon, Quill, I’m your advisor, not your conscience. Do I gotta think of everything around here?”

Peter couldn’t help but smile as he sat up a little straighter. “Only when I can’t be bothered.” ______

“Thanos has requested your attention.”

Gamora looked up from her work in surprise, narrowing her eyes in suspicion at the hologram that had suddenly appeared in front of her. Nebula, who was sprawled across the couch on the opposite side of the coffee table, merely groaned as if it were just a minor inconvenience, before rolling over to face the screen as well.

“What does Father want?” Nebula said snidely to The Other, who, as always, had his head tilted at an angle, his hood concealing his face almost entirely in shadow. There had been a time where both sisters thought him to be a monster, but now, he was little more than a warning beacon for what, or rather who was to come. “As we’ve already told you, we barely scratched the surface of this stupid planet because Gamora had a spat with her betrothed. It’s not my fault she likes to play with her food.”

The Other’s face vanished, instantly replaced with Thanos, who was scowling rather impressively. Nebula flinched, curling into the crease of the couch, tucking her feet underneath her. “So I’ve heard. Have you learned anything at all? Four days, and you’ve given me nothing. Do you really want to disappoint me like this, Gamora?”

“We are to be wed in six days, Father, but I can tell that Quill already trusts me,” Gamora replied, her voice as steady as she could manage. She held up the drawing she had been working on. “I’ve almost completed a map of the palace, but there are some areas that remain unknown, even to Ego’s children. I’ve also learned that he sometimes punishes them with his abilities. I suspect neither Quill nor Mantis have a strong emotional attachment to him because of it, so it should be easy to persuade them to help kill their father. Quill also seems interested in improving his Celestial powers and becoming their only leader, so overthrowing Ego was probably on his agenda, anyways. Having him join us in our quest to conquer the galaxy should be simple, provided we give him the illusion of real power.”

Nebula’s eyes widened in confusion before she realized what Gamora was trying to accomplish, and found herself surprisingly impressed. Even she was starting to believe in what her sister was saying, despite knowing the full extent of her argument with Peter and the circumstances in which it had come about in the first place.

“Excellent,” Thanos said, leaning back far enough that his shoulders came into frame. Somehow, seeing him on a screen made him no less intimidating than when he was towering over them on his throne. “I always said you were my favorite child for a reason, Gamora. No one else could have learned so much in so little time, and no one has my trust more than you. You have done well, my child. You should be grateful that I have bestowed this honor to you.” Nebula turned away entirely to fixate on the back of the room, suddenly fascinated by the floral arrangement by the bed, unsure of whether she wanted to hear another word.

“I am grateful, Father,” Gamora lied. “And when will you be arriving?”

“Oh, I won’t be at the wedding,” Thanos laughed. It was unsettling to hear such unbridled joy in his voice, the hairs on the back of Gamora’s neck prickling at the sound. “I have other matters to attend to, far more important than a wedding. I will come calling once Ego requests my presence, and only then will we set our plan into motion. In the meantime, continue to gather all the intel you can on the Celestials. Find out what makes them tick. And warm them to you, Gamora. This will only work if they believe you’re on their side.” Without so much as a goodbye, he disappeared, the hologram vanishing with an abrupt bzzt.

“Always love talking to daddy dearest,” Nebula drawled, finally rolling over to look at her sister once more. “Are you done batting your eyelashes at him yet?”

“In case you haven’t noticed, I hardly told him anything,” Gamora snapped, shoving the communicator aside. “I didn’t tell him the planet would perish with Ego’s death, or about Mantis’s empathic abilities. Most of what I said was blatant lies and you know it, Nebula, so don’t you dare accuse me of anything.” She spread her drawings out further across the table so she could let her sister see the ones she had kept tucked away from Thanos’s watchful eye. “Quill doesn’t believe in his father, I can tell that much. He might be defensive of him, but he doesn’t think he’s a good man, either. And from what he’s told me, the biggest reason he’s holding back from killing Ego is because it would result in the death of his people. So if we want him to work with us again...we need to find a way to evacuate this planet as well.”

Nebula snorted. “Good luck with that.”

Gamora shot her another dirty look before continuing. “We have to get Quill back on our side, fast, before he decides that I’m a danger to his people and reports us to his father. We may be unmatched in fighting ability, but we’ll be powerless once the Celestial light comes into play.”

“You really think Quill would expose us like that?” Nebula said uncertainly, moving to kneel beside Gamora on the plush carpet. She began tracing her fingers across the sketches, processing the depictions of hiding spots and doorways to rooms that didn’t seem to exist.

“If he thinks we’re going to destroy this planet, yes, I think he would. His loyalty is to his people, not his crown. And you said just as much before, he’s irrational at his very worst. Honestly, even if he does eventually agree to killing his father, it doesn’t mean he won’t change his mind later on. We have to make it worth his while.” Gamora let out a defeated sigh. “Evacuating the entire planet...it’s nearly impossible. It’s beyond anything we’ve ever done before. But if we don’t at least try, we’ll never be able to convince Quill to join us again, and I hate to say it, but we can’t do this without his knowledge and his power.”

Nebula also slumped a little in exhaustion, shuffling the drawings back together listlessly as she considered her response. “Fine. But we are wasting our time here,” she said, waving her arms around in dismay at their surroundings. “If you’re so desperate to get him to listen to you again, then why are you hiding in my room?”

Knock-knock. The girls exchanged curious looks before Gamora stood, walking cautiously towards the door with her hand on her utility belt. “Who is it?” she called.

“It’s Peter. Quill. Uh, Peter Quill.”

“What impeccable timing,” Nebula muttered.

“What do you want, Quill?” Gamora hissed, rocking back on her heels in caution. Nebula shot her a look of pure derision - really, this was her strategy for getting Peter to help them again?

“Well, uh, for you to open the door. That’d be a great start.” There was a pregnant pause. “Also, I really think we should talk. About all that stuff we said to each other yesterday. Stuff we both probably regret. Well, at least I regret. I don’t wanna put words in your mouth, you probably hate that. See, there I go again - ”

“Quill.” Gamora yanked the door open, more out of annoyance than anything, and was startled by the uncharacteristically bashful expression on his face. He stepped into the room, giving Nebula an awkward wave in greeting, before gesturing towards the veranda.

“Can we maybe talk out there? In private?”

“I can take a hint,” Nebula sighed, getting to her feet. “Try not to kill each other. I don’t want to deal with the smell.”

Gamora rolled her eyes, muttering some choice words under her breath before stepping outside. It was rather ornate for a guest room’s balcony, though really, every square inch of the palace was dripping with luxury, the exception apparently being Peter’s quarters. It was detailed with gold carvings and glossy tile flooring just like every other room, featuring a set of velvet loveseats that overlooked the vast emptiness surrounding them, filled only with lush, multicolor foliage that occupied space that otherwise lacked people. Gamora was used to sparse environments - after all, Sanctuary was nothing but a void made of rock and stars - but it was the saturation of color combined with the lack of sound that left her a little disoriented.

“What is it, Quill? Would you like to accuse me of wanting to kill you for the third time?” She leaned over the railing, gazing out to the horizon. She felt like if she looked at Peter’s face for too long, the urge to punch it would be too hard to resist.

“I have a bunch of things to say, actually,” Peter admitted. “Um, but not that. First, I wanted to warn you about Dad coming to talk to you about tonight. I know you kinda hate me right now, but I figured you’d rather hear it from me than from him.”

“Tonight? What about tonight?”

“Like I said, Dad goes kinda crazy when big events happen, and they don’t happen very often. Seems like the spectacle begins tonight,” he replied. His fingers were drumming out an indefinable beat on his thighs, glowing very slightly as he did. “That thing where we make it super obvious we had a fight? We can’t afford to do it again, and not when other people are around, too. I think if he suspects that something ain’t right? He’s gonna use it as an excuse to go after your dad.”

“That sounds incredibly petty,” Gamora said with a mocking chuckle. “And is that your idea of an apology? Begging for my compliance?”

“I’m getting to it, you didn’t let me finish,” he protested. “I’m...sorry I called you insane. And accused you of wanting to kill me. I guess I just thought, in that moment, that my instincts were wrong. Like I couldn’t trust you like I thought.” He paused to sit on one of the loveseats, propping his elbows up on the railing, though he kept his gaze outwards as well. “I still don’t agree with you about what to do about Dad, but I shouldn’t have said all those things. I don’t think you’re crazy. Promise.”

“What do you think of me?” She began twisting the silver rings on her fingers, almost hypnotized by the way they caught the eerily orange-red glow of the planet’s sunlight. For a moment, they looked as if they were drenched in blood. It wouldn’t be the first time.

“I think you’re brave,” he offered with a tentative smile. Gamora’s fingers paused in mid-motion. “For what you’re doing here. All that stuff you said about the kind of person you want to be, that’s what really got to me. It’s why I came here to talk. And I do still wanna help, I believe in what you’re doing, I just...there’s gotta be another way.”

She resumed her movements, albeit much slower than before. “What if we evacuated the planet beforehand? Would that change your mind?”

“That’s impossible,” he countered almost instantly. “We might be a small planet, but that’s still two billion people you’re talking about.”

“And we have time. To talk about it, that is. To figure out the details.” Finally, Gamora turned her head to meet his gaze, though she chose not to sit next to him. It seemed too intimate. “Quill, I...I realize I shouldn’t have been so blunt, and mean. Your inexperience with violence is what makes you a good ally, not a bad one. It’s not the kind of experience anyone should want to have. And I went into this expecting that you hated your father as much as Nebula and I hate ours. You seemed so willing to help that I just assumed you understood my intentions. But as you’ve said before, our feelings towards Thanos are much less complex compared to yours for Ego. We know we’re only valuable to Thanos because he made us that way. At least Ego seems to care about you outside of your abilities, to a certain extent.”

“It does make things harder,” Peter admitted. “Kind of an understatement, right? But...I’m glad we could talk about this. I think we understand each other better now, right? And we need to be united if we’re going to pull this off.”

“I agree,” she replied, giving him the barest of smiles. “Letting our personal feelings get in the way will be of no use to anybody. We can find compromise where we can, sure. But we can’t let sentiment be our downfall.”

He gave her a curious look then, something she couldn’t quite place. She mulled over her own words, wondering what it was that she had said that had caused such an odd reaction, before being interrupted by another knock at the door. Peter winced in anticipation before standing, making his way back into the room to greet the newcomer. “Dad...he-e-ey, what’re you doing here?”

Ego swept into the room (as he did with any room), cape swirling about at his ankles, arm thrown wide. “Well, I could ask you the same question, son. Come to fix things with the wife, have you?”

Gamora winced a little at the way he had referred to her. Had he already forgotten her name? “It was just a small spat, your highness. I overreacted. I’m still...unused to being around people so often. It won’t happen again,” she promised.

“Understandable,” Ego nodded sagely. “You should move back to Peter’s quarters, then. After all, it’ll be yours as well in about six days.” He winked before turning to fully face his son, missing the disgusted look she shot Nebula, who was, once again, lounging on the couch like she owned the place, unperturbed by his presence. “Have you told her about dinner tonight? We’ve got a special guest joining us, and she’s coming from quite the distance. She’s looking forward to meeting your girl in particular.”

“Is that really a good idea, though? I mean, we’ve got so much wedding stuff going on, and - ” Peter began, but was quickly cut off.

“Nonsense! She’s in the area on business anyways. She’ll be here tonight, leave for work in the morning on a planet a few hundred clicks over, and return for the wedding.” Ego chuckled good-naturedly, clapping Peter on the shoulder.

“I meant for Gamora,” Peter stressed, wincing a little at the sudden contact. “Dad, c’mon. The more people we invite to this thing, the bigger chance there’ll be a problem. Can we at least look at your guest list? It is our wedding.”

Ego let out a long-suffering sigh, his hands coming to rest on his belt as he tilted his head in consideration. “Alright, son. You’ve gone and twisted my arm. Tomorrow morning, before you two meet with the decorator, got it?”

“Yes, thank you, Dad, that would be awesome,” Peter grinned, relieved, grabbing Ego’s hands and squeezing them between his. “That’s all we need, I promise.” Ego let out a merry laugh one last time before letting go, stepping out of the room without a parting sentiment or even a second glance at Gamora and Nebula. Peter turned back to look at the girls with a triumphant smile, arms spread wide. Gamora immediately thought of Ego and wondered if Peter realized how much of his physical mannerisms had been inherited from his father. “Well, that’s the best I can do, I guess. I hope that was okay. He...really didn’t wanna even look at you for some reason.”

“It’s simple. He believes our only true value is in our father, who isn’t here,” Nebula snorted, lazily fanning herself with one of Gamora’s drawings. “Keep up, Quill. You’re only pretending to be stupid, aren’t you?”

“Do you know who the dinner guest is?” Gamora asked him, ignoring her sister’s jabs as she snatched the paper out of her hand.

“No idea. He likes to talk up just about anybody. He did it all the time when Mantis and me were kids. He used to take us with him on trips and wanted to impress us with all the ‘important people’ he knew. It’s probably just the same kind of crap,” Peter shrugged. “So, we’ve got eight hours to kill before dinner. What should we do now?”

“I have some schematics drawn up in case of a battle,” Gamora offered, holding up her sketches. “Why don’t we discuss this in your quarters, with the others?”

He clapped his hands together in triumph, another oddly Ego-esque tic that made her a little nervous. “Sounds like a plan.” ______

“Say, Quill. What kinda tech you got lying around here on this planet?” Rocket asked. He was perched on the back of the couch opposite him, tossing a screwdriver head back and forth between his paws without looking down. Peter still wasn’t sure what to make of the other members of the Titan group just yet, but he brightened a little at the word ‘tech’. That, he could get behind.

The entire group had gathered in his private sitting room for the first time, as they had originally intended to do, noticeably divided by their allegiances. Peter was flanked by Yondu and Mantis as he often was, while Gamora and Nebula were sitting across from him, with Drax and Groot stood directly behind them, Rocket sat by Gamora’s shoulder. She seemed nonchalant about his screwdriver tossing, possibly even entirely unaware of it.

At last, Peter was starting to feel a little more confident about the whole situation, though there was no denying he was still fraught with nerves at how it could all go wrong. It was one thing to speak out of turn and get pierced by the light for an hour or two. It was something else entirely to try and take down two regimes in one fell swoop, especially with people he had yet to understand. He was admittedly still the slightest bit hesitant about Gamora, though his general respect for her had returned. Nebula seemed to be a never-ending source of snark, and the others? It was too soon to tell. Hell, Peter was doubting himself in this whole situation. He knew how to fight, sure, but it didn’t make him a fighter. Knowing how to take a punch and knowing how to kill a god - not exactly congruent concepts.

“Not much,” Peter admitted. “Dad likes to keep things organic. Says he always understood plants better than computers. I’ve got devices of my own that I’ve lifted from other planets, but nothing too advanced.”

“You...steal...things?” Rocket said slowly, surprised. “Some kinda prince you are. I’m almost impressed.”

“I go looking in places where people leave things behind,” Peter corrected him. “Junkyards, abandoned vaults. I’m more of a scavenger, alright? Thievin’ is more Yondu’s thing.”

“Really?” Rocket’s crimson gaze flickered towards him, observing him in a way that made him squirm a little.

“You’re lookin’ at an ex-Ravager captain,” Yondu boasted. “But Ego, he paid real handsomely. Eventually offered me a permanent position here, along with some of my crew. Noticed me and Quill got along real good and decided I should keep an eye on him.”

“So this planet is full of beings with impressive histories of illegal activity. Good to know,” Nebula remarked. Gamora put a firm hand on her lap in warning.

“We have more important things to discuss,” Gamora interrupted, glancing around the room. Yondu still looked rather smug - though really, he sort of always did - while Mantis was smiling serenely, if a little uncertainly, her legs tucked neatly beneath her, hands folded in her lap. She felt guilty about assuming so little of Mantis, thinking that she would be no more than some vapid little princess - she clearly wielded much more power than Gamora and her people could have anticipated, wasn’t nearly as shy as she had first appeared. “I think we were too hasty when we first agreed to work together. From what I can tell, all of us, to some degree, didn’t realize what we were agreeing to. I realize this is a lot to ask when it’s clear there’s still a lack of trust between our people, especially you towards us. And I understand why. Nebula and I...we have reputations that precede us. They will forever be a part of who we are, though hopefully, not who we are today. And I’m hoping that by doing this, we can at least sleep a little easier from now on, knowing that we’ve helped stop Thanos from destroying billions of lives. So all I’m asking for right now is for you to listen. And decide whether to trust me...trust us...after I’ve finished.”

“Can’t guarantee I won’t interrupt,” Peter said half-jokingly, leaning forward onto his knees. “But go ahead.”

Gamora glared at him briefly before moving to spread out her drawings across the table between them. “I’ve mapped out the entirety of this palace according to its best locations for strongholds and exits, given the likelihood of a battle taking place here. Chances are, Thanos will ambush once he’s devised a plan to control your father, and he will send his forces by the thousands. The Chitauri, for one. Possibly the Black Order as well. He will also, of course, expect Nebula and I to return to his side. Granted, his arrogance will keep him from joining the fight. He thinks he’s too important to get involved, not unless he’s truly needed. So when he begins his attack, he might not even be physically here for us to take him on as well.”

“But he is coming here at some point, right? Or are we just gonna be sitting around, waiting for him forever?” Peter said dubiously.

“He’s actually waiting for Ego’s invitation, if you can believe it,” Gamora snorted. “He wants to play nice, further the illusion that this is nothing more than an alliance. He’s instructed us to gather more information on you in the meantime so he’ll be prepared by the time your father reaches out to him.”

“And what’ve you told him so far?” Yondu prompted. “You best not be spillin’ our secrets.”

Gamora held up a hand before Drax could protest against Yondu’s casual diction. After spending an unexpectedly lengthy amount of time in Peter’s presence, she had already gotten used to their oddly informal speech patterns. “Nothing that will change his mind,” she replied with a shrug. “I told him the basics of how this planet runs, what its purpose is. I explained some of Quill’s Celestial abilities. However, I’ve also disclosed next to no personal details. Instead, I’ve been feeding him lies that should keep him away. For now, at least.”

“The most important thing is, Thanos cannot find out that killing Father will destroy the Celestial power source,” Mantis said softly. It was the first time she had spoken since everyone had sat down. Her antennae remained unmoved, unlit, though Gamora couldn’t help but find her gaze wandering to them every now and then, wary of what they implied. “Otherwise, he will most definitely go after Peter instead, out of spite. It would break Father’s heart.” The wetness in her eyes told the others it would break hers as well.

Peter suddenly sat up, reaching across as if to grasp at Gamora’s hand but deciding against it at the last second. She eyed him in confusion. “Gamora...that’s it.”

“What’s it?” she asked urgently.

“Thanos won’t come here unless Dad asks him to, right? So maybe that works out in our favor. That’s how we get both of them at once. You tell him you’re having trouble figuring out how it works or something. It gives us time to evacuate the planet slowly, not all at once. Then you tell Thanos that I told you how to control Dad’s powers, that he can do it the second he gets here. He’ll get here as soon as possible, and we let him...we let him kill Dad. Then the planet will die, and Thanos will die with it.”

“What?!” Yondu exclaimed, shooting up from his seat. “Since when was killin’ Ego part of this plan? I thought this was about making sure no one gets killed!”

Peter swallowed, though the lump that was beginning to burn a hole in his throat refused to go away. “C’mon, Yondu. I don’t like the sound of it either, but it’s kinda become our only choice here. How do you think he’s gonna feel if we kill Thanos? You think he’s just gonna let me get away with it?” He sighed, rubbing his temples. “Yondu...you’ve been saying for years that he’s not a good man. Remember when you first picked me up on Terra? You said, ‘I’m taking you to your daddy, but I’m warning ya, he’s a bit of a jackass’. And I agreed with you at first, because I just knew him as the guy who left my mom. But some days, I...I don’t know what to think.”

“That don’t mean we gotta kill him!” Yondu protested. “Wasn’t too long ago, you were talking to Ego, asking him if you could go visit your precious Terra one day. And now you’re suddenly talking about murdering him?” He cocked his head in Gamora’s direction. “What voodoo does she have you under, huh?”

“Nothing, relax!” Peter said firmly, grabbing Yondu by the wrist and yanking him back down by his side. “Look, unless you can think of some way to keep Dad from coming after me after I basically commit treason, then this is the best option. It’s not...the easiest thing to do, but it might be the right thing. And I don’t wanna be the guy who always does the easiest thing, not anymore.”

Growling under his breath, Yondu directed his glare in Gamora’s direction, only to be surprised by her dark eyes looking back at him intensely, almost pleadingly. “Nebula and I have spent our entire adolescence being the dreaded monsters under the bed. The reason that children and families cannot sleep peacefully at night, whether they were our victims or our targets. But now, we are the ones who are scared. Ego isn’t on the same level as Thanos, that much is true. And maybe it’s unfair of me to assume that he ever will be. I’ve been making a lot of poor assumptions lately,” she added, looking over at Peter briefly, who gave her a weak smile in return. “But we can’t afford to wait for him to get there when Thanos is ready to push him over the edge. And Yondu, Ego’s treatment of those under your care - they’ve already been hurt, over and over and over again. Does that not deserve some sort of retribution? Revenge?” Yondu glanced down for a moment before looking to Peter and Mantis, who looked uncharacteristically despondent. “I don’t want Thanos to hurt anyone else any longer. That’s all this is about for me. Do we not want the same thing?”

As much as he found himself agreeing with her, Yondu decided not to respond right away, instead focusing firmly on the children he had come to think of as his own. When they had been young and impressionable, Ego would be with them for hours at a time, showering them with affection, teaching them how to improve and control their abilities with the finest precision. He had been shaping the newly-christened kingdom as a benevolent god at the time, with Peter and Mantis acting as his good influences, his voices of reason.

Now that they were young adults - a very loose term, considering Mantis had only just turned eighteen - he was barely around, apparently having had his fill of parenting, leaving Yondu behind in his place. Yondu worried about them day after day, though he never said as much out loud. He worried that Peter’s confidence was turning into arrogance, that his all-loving nature was going to become borne of self-importance. He worried that Mantis’s sweet, giving nature would lead her down a path of submission and turn into an inferiority complex. Most of all, he found himself wondering what would happen if Ego were to ever pick up again, return in full force to direct their efforts towards something more...sinister.

“I remember a time when Quill was nine and Mantis was seven,” Yondu said gravely. “There was this real nice fountain out at the very front of the palace, kinda like the one in the garden. Had this big ol’ statue of - what else? - Ego himself. On top of his head, a real shiny crown, with a huge jewel to match. Some multicolor rainbow thing. Real pretty. One day, Mantis asks Quill if he would get the jewel for her. She wanted a pretty piece for her own crown, and Quill, he wasn’t good enough at his powers yet to make one for her. So, one night, they go out to the fountain. Quill gets to the top of the statue pretty easily. He turns to look at Mantis, ‘cause he’s proud, wants to show off a bit. Loses his balance and falls right down, smacks his head on the side of the fountain and knocks himself out cold. Mantis, she panics and jumps in after him, tries to drag him out but he’s too big and she’s too little, and now she’s caught under his body from twistin’ around too much in the water. Suddenly, Ego shows up. He pulls ‘em both out with that damned light of his, hangs ‘em up by the collar. Don’t let ‘em down until he’s thrown ‘em into his study. Locks the door, and just...walks away. They don’t get to change clothes, don’t get to dry off. No bathroom or food or nothing in there for ‘em. Quill’s bleedin’ from a big ol’ gash in his head, Mantis still has too much water rattlin’ around in hers. Ego comes to breakfast the next morning and acts like nothing happened. Asks ‘em if they slept okay.”

Drax, to Yondu’s surprise, was the one who reacted first, emitting a guttural growl of anger, his fists tightening until his knuckles had gone white. The others looked properly horrified as well, while Peter and Mantis shivered at the memory. Mantis in particular still remembered frantically wiping Peter’s forehead, desperate to stop the bleeding, and crying out when the door to the study had first opened, terrified that it was only going to get worse.

Gamora turned to pat Drax placatingly on the forearm, her eyes glossy, before looking back to Yondu. “How did you know what happened that day?” she asked gently. “I imagine Quill and Mantis didn’t describe it like that, not after that kind of trauma.”

Yondu let out a hollow chuckle. “Because Ego was standin’ right there the whole time, watching it happen. I snuck into his study to clean ‘em and patch ‘em up, bring water and blankets. When I walked out, Ego was waitin’ for me, wantin’ to tell me what he saw. Was just some funny story to him, I guess. ‘Those kids are gonna be the death of me, Yondu’. At breakfast, the kids are quiet. Shaking like mad, can’t eat a damn thing. All I can do is stand there and watch as Ego asks ‘em if they wanna go swimming later.”

Gamora could feel her own breakfast turning in her stomach at the very thought. Her mind called to a memory of Thanos, the first time she had disobeyed him. It was hardly the worst thing he had done to her in retrospect - no, the worst was yet to come - but it was still burned into her brain like it was yesterday. She had been tired, too tired to continue training, and requested to go to bed early. In return, he had tied her up, sat her down next to him, and began taking Nebula apart for the second time that week, her anguished cries carrying on for hours until she had fallen silent. Impulsively, Gamora’s hands went to Nebula once more, this time grabbing her out of solidarity rather than of warning. “And?” she whispered.

“And so I’ll help,” Yondu said darkly. “I ain’t putting up with that bastard no longer. I spent too long doing shady jobs for him, and sitting around on my ass while he hurts these two don’t make me any better, either. So maybe you’re onto something after all, Gamora.”

She smiled a little at the use of her name, nodding in appreciation, before turning to Mantis. “And what about you?”

“Father...it sometimes feels as if he does not really think of me as his child. Even before Peter’s arrival, he was mostly interested in my empathic abilities. If I did not have them...I suspect he would not have taken me in.” Mantis gave her a rueful smile, her antennae drooping slightly as she did. “It will not be a great loss for me, should we kill him. I do not think I would weep if he were gone.”

“And how ‘bout your people? They all on board?” Yondu asked, gesturing at the figures lurking behind the sisters.

“We have pledged our loyalty to the Titan throne, that much is true,” Drax said fiercely. “But our true allegiance is to Gamora...and Nebula, I suppose. Not to Thanos. And not to his other children. They are cruel, merciless beings who do not deserve to live any longer. Not after what they have done. I look forward to crushing their skulls in battle.”

“Plus, we ain’t stupid enough to go against Gamora. Have you seen the things she can do with that sword o’ hers?” Rocket snorted. Groot nodded gravely in agreeance, remembering a time when he had tried to take her on in combat training. It hadn’t ended well.

Peter glanced around the room anxiously, expecting to see anguish still written on everyone’s faces. He was pleasantly surprised to find that instead, the others looked steely-eyed and determined, if a little nervous. Maybe, just maybe, they would actually be able to work together now that they had sorted out their grievances, and not die horribly violent deaths in the process. “Okay, well, if everyone’s on board, let’s figure out our plan…” ______

The sun was already setting by the time one of the palace’s attendants came knocking, carrying bundles of brand-new clothing that Ego apparently wanted Peter and Gamora to wear for dinner. The other Titans had slipped out before they could be seen, making a hasty retreat to the guest wing where they were supposed to be, while Yondu and Mantis remained behind, smiling absent-mindedly at the newcomer. “Thirty minutes, your highnesses,” the attendant informed them as Yondu shooed him away.

“And no clothes for you, Mantis?” he frowned. “Ego told me he was expectin’ you to be there too.”

“Yes, well.” Mantis could only shrug in response. It was hardly anything new for her. “I will go pick out something from my existing wardrobe, I suppose. See you at dinner.” She bowed her head gracefully before leaving Peter’s quarters as well. He watched his sister go, hoping that he would be able to make it up to her later.

Gamora emerged from her bedroom a few minutes later, wearing the form-fitted silky jumpsuit she had been provided, yanking repeatedly at the neckline in hopes it would sit where she wanted to, as it otherwise generously dipped much further than anything she had ever owned or would like to own. “Is this your doing, Quill? I’ve been forced into waist trainers more forgiving than this.”

Peter frowned at the sight of her. Although she admittedly looked fantastic, the discomfort on her face told him all he needed to know, and it didn’t sit well with him. “No, it’s not me - that would be Dad. Why the hell would - okay, you know what, I’m not gonna finish that sentence, because I don’t think either of us wanna think about it. I’ll grab you one of my formal jackets, okay?”

Once they were both appropriately dressed and (reluctantly) ready to go, Yondu escorted them to the dining hall in complete silence, the three of them casting nervous glances at the multitude of guards stationed down the length of every corridor. They certainly hadn’t been present the previous few nights when Gamora and the rest of her people had first arrived, so clearly, Ego thought this guest to be someone of great importance, someone he wanted to impress. Speculation ran rampant through Peter’s mind, and it was only when they reached the enormous double doors that he finally managed to put two and two together.

Gamora froze instantly at the sight once she pieced it together as well, letting out a feral hiss and taking a step backward. She bent to reach for the blade she had hidden in her shoe. “What is this?” she snapped.

“Please, your highness, we mean no harm,” the Nova Corps officer said patiently, though the gloved hand resting on his blaster certainly wasn’t helping his case. “We’re only here as a precaution for her protection.”

“Protection from what?” Peter said incredulously. “From Gamora?”

“That’s not what I meant, your highness, my sincerest apologies - ” the officer blurted, bowing deeply.

“Except it is,” Gamora muttered. She took another step forward, her head cocked dangerously as she considered the poor Nova Corps officer who was now quivering in his place, just as Peter slid himself neatly between them. Yondu also leaped forward as if to drag him back, though he was eyeing the officer like he was about to bite.

“Hey, hey! None of that. Nobody’s killin’ anybody tonight, okay?” She glared up at him, absolutely murderous. Regardless, Peter found himself surprisingly unafraid. “Hey,” he whispered reassuringly, reaching as if to gently grasp her arm. She took another step back, the fire in her eyes turning into something else entirely - skittishness. He withdrew his hands immediately in surrender. “Hey, if things get bad in there with her and Dad, remember that I’m here too. And trust me, after everything we talked about back there - you should know that I’m on your side. Not his.”

Relenting, Gamora shoved the blade back into her boot and straightened up. “Fine, but I’ll only play possum if it gets us out faster. Give me your arm.” He looked at her in confusion before she yanked his arm outwards and looped hers with his, digging her fingernails a little too harshly into the crease of his elbow. “We have to pretend to be happily engaged, remember? It’s too early to start raising suspicion. So, have you met her before?”

“A few times. Dad always talks her up so she won’t look too closely into what’s going on around here or interfere with the politics.” Peter allowed Yondu to lead them inside, the latter still looking slightly disturbed at both the Nova Corps’ presence and Gamora’s sudden outburst. He strolled into the room, standing straighter than she’d ever seen him do before, and said cheerily, “Nova Prime! Always a pleasure to see you, ma’am. You look wonderful this evening. Not a day over...I’ll stop myself right there before I get into trouble.”

Ego and Nova Prime stood from their seats at the head of the table, bowing in greeting. Mantis was sat several seats further down the table despite there being no other dinner guests in attendance, wearing one of her old dresses, hands folded neatly in her lap. Her antennae were twitching nervously above her as if she were desperate to do something with them.

“And it’s always good to see you, your highness,” Nova Prime beamed, reaching out to him. Peter gave Gamora a quick but encouraging smile before releasing her and walking over to the older woman, allowing her to squeeze his hands in affection. “You’re growing up to be quite the star prince, aren’t you? Your father’s been going on about how you excel at all your royal duties. I’m so glad to hear it.”

What royal duties? Peter thought with a snort. “Ah, well, he has to say that, he's my dad,” he laughed, squeezing back before letting go. He took a step back so he could gesture towards Gamora, who looked unusually awkward, unsure of what to say or do. “Ma’am, allow me to introduce my lovely fiancée.”

“Ah, yes, Gamora.” To Gamora’s surprise, the warm, almost mischievous spark in Nova Prime’s eyes didn’t fade as she approached her, offering her hands as well. “How are you doing?”

“I - I’m doing quite well, Nova Prime,” Gamora said slowly, briefly glancing over at Peter in a panic before turning back to make proper eye contact, her fingers trembling with unease as she accepted the gesture. “It’s nice to meet you, ma’am.”

“You don’t have to be nervous, Gamora,” Ego called from behind Nova Prime, sweeping his hands out towards the table. As expected, it was set with golden dishware and cutlery, with cream-colored cloth napkins that boasted golden tassels, large vases of white roses, and a tablecloth made with golden thread. Gamora was starting to wonder how much gold her wedding dress was going to feature - and then winced at the prospect of wearing a wedding dress to begin with. “I promise, we have no ulterior motives here. Please have a seat, and let us enjoy this wonderful meal our talented chefs have prepared for us. After all, we have plenty to discuss!”

“Discuss?” Peter echoed as he sat down next to Mantis, patting her hand briefly in greeting. She shot him a grateful smile as he did. Gamora looked along the length of the table, debating how best to play her cards without offending Ego’s...ego, before sitting on Peter’s opposite, leaving a comfortable two-seat gap between her and the head of the table. “I didn’t know we were even having a discussion, Dad.”

“Did you really expect that your marriage to Gamora here wasn’t going to lead to Nova Prime wanting to make a house call?” Ego let out a good-natured chuckle. “Don’t be naive now, Peter, it doesn’t suit you. Besides, it’s just a little bit of politics here and there - no legalese, strictly speaking - and then we can talk about whatever we’d like afterward. You can tell Irani about your proposal!” He turned to address her with a wink. “I’ve yet to hear the details myself, I’ve been so busy making arrangements. Can you tell I’m excited?”

Peter swallowed. Suddenly, Yondu’s talk of his political teachings was coming to mind again, and frankly, he was drawing a blank. “Right. In that case, can I get a drink to start?”

The first ten minutes of dinner dragged on horrendously, leaving Peter, Gamora, and Mantis restless in their seats. At least Peter had the excuse of the beer he had insisted on - meanwhile, the girls were sipping their water glasses like they had nothing better to do, and in that moment, they really didn’t. Ego seemed intent on sharing every last story he had about Peter’s childhood as a way of warming up their conversation, though no one else seemed to be talking, aside from Nova Prime humming in response every now and then.

While Gamora was vaguely interested in learning about her future husband’s past - not to understand his value as her ally, she had seen a great deal of it already, but simply to just know him a little bit better - she couldn’t help but think of Yondu’s story instead. Her heart burned with anger as she watched Ego talk passionately about a son he had quite literally abandoned while in pain. Peter had clearly been sugar-coating it when he first spoke of it to her. Whether to protect his father, to repress his own memories, to avoid scaring her away, or some combination of the three, she wasn’t sure. She could only imagine that Yondu had a number of other stories of similar incidents, maybe things that none of them wanted to speak of again. There were certainly stories of Thanos that she would never recount to anybody, not even on her deathbed.

Gamora was also waiting for any sort of anecdote about Mantis, the ally she had seen or heard the last about. It became clearer with every passing hour that she was here that Ego barely regarded his daughter’s existence. Nebula could probably relate, what with the way Thanos openly referred to Gamora as his favorite while making a mockery of Nebula in the same breath. Even if Nebula won a fight, he would often make some scathing comment about how Gamora must have taken pity and allowed her to win.

“Now, Gamora, I know seeing me must disturb you greatly,” Nova Prime said with a knowing glance over her appetizer. “But I promise, this is no test. No tricks from me. I’m actually here to discuss the state of your criminal record.”

“And how is that not a trick?” Gamora retorted flatly. Ego looked offended at her hostile tone, but Nova Prime merely smiled in return, setting her knife and fork down in a display of passiveness.

“Because I’m offering you a second chance. A clean slate, if you will. Think of it as a bit of a bonus for marrying into the Celestial family,” Nova Prime chuckled. “As long as you never commit another crime and remain faithful to the throne you now serve, your record will remain blank. As if nothing ever happened.”

“The things that I’ve done, it wasn’t nothing.” Gamora stabbed a piece of her salad with her fork. “That ‘nothing’ you speak of is what makes people run in fear at the very mention of me. Being legally cleansed of my sins does nothing for my reputation...or my guilt.”

“We can make it public,” Nova Prime offered. “Very public. I’ll be the first to stand by you, Gamora. And knowledge of your marriage to Prince Peter will spread. He’s known for his good heart, and if the people believe he truly cares for you and supports you as well, then their perception of you will eventually change, too. As long as you remain allied to the Celestials, that is.”

Gamora’s mouth twisted in derision, her fingers tightening around her fork. It was starting to bend in the palm of her hand, leaving dents in her flesh. None of this was going to matter in a few months (or however long it would take) anyways, was it? She and Peter would part ways after taking down their respective fathers. He would be lauded as a hero, while she would probably have to go into hiding. Sakaar was starting to sound pretty cozy. “I have yet to do anything that proves my loyalty, so why are you bothering to offer me this ‘second chance’?”

“Sometimes, the offer is all it takes,” Nova Prime said gently. “I want to believe in you, Gamora. You weren’t born wanting to be a killer. You were turned into one under terrible circumstances. I can already see the difference right now, the effort you’re putting in. Who you were before, that’s not who you really are. It’s not who you want to be. And you’re still so young - you have so much ahead of you that you can’t even imagine yet. You can make a real, positive difference in this world if you’re given the opportunity. Allow me to give you this opportunity, to do this for you. And your friends, too.”

“My subjects,” Gamora corrected, her voice thick with emotion. “My sister as well. I have a few requests to make, however. You will never pursue my people with the intent to arrest or harm them again, so long as they abide by your laws. You will also lift the ban that prevents Drax from returning to his homeworld. He’s been mourning his family from a distance for too long, has suffered in silence for as long as I’ve known him. Only then will I completely agree to your terms, Nova Prime.”

It was a sign of her extensive history as both leader and negotiator when she barely moved a muscle at Gamora’s demands. Ego, meanwhile, was looking increasingly irritated by the minute. “Understandable. Anything else?”

Gamora stood very suddenly, her cutlery clattering harshly against her plate as she did. “And you will not speak to me as if you know who I am ever again,” she said slowly. She turned and promptly ran out the door, the hem of Peter’s dinner jacket whipping in the air behind her in absence of her cape. Peter could only gape after in shock, open-mouthed, before shutting his jaw with a snap and looking back to his father. Ego was unexpectedly only shaking his head in disappointment, the heated flush in his face having vanished.

“Mantis, do you know why you’re here at the table tonight?” Ego sighed, rubbing his temples in slow circles.

“I - because I am part of this family,” Mantis replied uncertainly, though her heart sank, knowing it wasn’t the correct answer, or at least, the answer he was looking for.

“Well, yes. But you were also here to prevent things like that from happening,” Ego said with a flick of his wrist in Gamora’s direction, his gaze cold. “Go after her, please. Bring her back. Let her know that outbursts like that will not be tolerated if she’s going to be a part of this family.”

“Now, Ego, that was my fault entirely!” Nova Prime protested. “I shouldn’t have said all those things, it wasn’t my place - ”

“Please, Irani, you’re our guest. Think nothing of it. The girl should’ve known better, let Mantis go after her,” Ego said, suddenly switching into yet another jovial laugh, as if nothing had happened.

“Uh, how about I go and get her?” Peter said timidly, holding up his hand like a schoolchild volunteering to read to the class. “She’s my fiancée, after all.” With another exasperated sigh, Ego waved at him to get moving, and Peter left the dining hall immediately, hoping he wasn’t too late.

Unfortunately, Gamora was already long gone, nowhere to be found in the enormous main corridor, though the attendants quaking in their boots gave him enough indication of which direction she had headed off to. Peter went to the guest wing first, hoping she was at least with people she could trust. He certainly had done a terrible job of keeping his short-lived promise to support her.

To his dismay, all he found in the guest quarters was the rest of the Titans engaged in a rather intense game of poker, screaming at each other from across the table over their cards, using bits of Groot’s bark as poker chips. He was half-tempted to join in, but he needed to find Gamora, fast, and Drax looked like he was about to literally flip the table. Peter then went to his quarters, half-expecting to turn up unsuccessful as well - he mused quickly over where else she could possibly have gone. The gardens, maybe? - and found her sitting on the couch with her head in her hands, jacket tossed aside, bunched up in a heap.

“Gamora?” he said carefully, shutting the door firmly behind him.

“Go away, Quill.”

“What - this is my room. Uh, well, it’s gonna be your room too - it kinda already is? - and I’m not helping, am I.” He groaned, rubbing his temples again before moving to sit in the armchair opposite her. “They want you to come back to dinner.”

“Could’ve figured that out on my own, thank you,” she drawled sarcastically, refusing to look up.

“Bu-u-ut, if you don’t wanna go back, I don’t blame you.” Peter undid the top button of his shirt as he spoke, letting out a sigh of relief as he did. He was honestly surprised Gamora hadn’t changed the second she got back to the room, what with both their outfits being so restrictive. “Nova Prime meant well and all, but I don’t think she realized how it sounded to you. Hell, I can’t imagine what it sounded like to you.”

“I know nothing of people.” Gamora slowly lifted her head to stare him down. Peter was alarmed to see her eyes were entirely bloodshot, the minimal makeup that she had been wearing now smeared across her cheekbones like warpaint. “But I know I can’t stand the type who pretend they know everything about people.”

“Not that we’re on the same level or anything, but that I do kinda understand,” he offered. “Dad says all these things about me to other people like he knows who I am. Or maybe it’s just what he wants me to be. But the only people who’ve ever really known me are Mantis and Yondu.”

“I wish I knew who I was,” she said quietly. “I know I’ve been talking extensively about who I was and who I want to be, but...what happens once this is all over? There’s no chance of me getting my ‘clean slate’ if we take out our fathers. I’ll still be hunted like an animal. For everything that I’ve done.”

“Gamora, I...I don’t need to know your entire history in order to trust you,” he said gently. “Because weirdly enough, after that awful fight of ours, I do trust you now. At least, enough to start a pseudo-revolution with you.” She cracked a tiny smile at that. “But if you need someone to talk to...I know I let you down earlier. I should’ve, I dunno, cut in earlier before it was too late. Let me make it up to you. I’m a good listener, I swear.”

“I think…” Gamora let out a shaky breath, stretching out her fingers to relieve the stiffness in her clenched fists. “I think I’m done with this conversation. For tonight, at least. Besides, there’s no use in letting my pride get in the way of our mission.” She paused. “Actually, I’m...kind of hungry. But returning to the dining hall would only make things worse for me. I imagine your father is furious. I’d be surprised if he’s still on board with our marriage.”

“Forget him,” Peter scoffed. “Let’s just eat here. You and me.” He extended a hand, and for a wild moment, she thought he wanted her to take it. A thin, square cardboard box seemingly materialized out of nothing, hovering slightly atop the white light that had burst forth from his palm, before it settled itself down on the table between them. “Pizza?”

“What is it?” she said curiously, leaning forward to open the box and stare down into its contents.

“It’s a food from my native Terra. It tastes pretty awesome, but it’s not the healthiest thing in the world. But right now, I couldn’t care less, and I’m guessing you feel the same way.” Another snap of his fingers, and he had produced paper plates and napkins for two. She couldn’t help but be impressed once more - for someone who claimed to be amateurish at unlimited powers of creation, he was certainly doing a good job of hiding it. “So, dinner?”

Gamora smiled a little bit wider, accepting the plate he offered her. “Oh, why not. And...thank you, Quill.”

He glanced at her in awe. “I...for what? I totally let you down back there.”

She shrugged. “I wasn’t expecting much,” she teased. “Besides, you came through in the end. You did just enough. And that’s all I can ask for.”

Peter snorted, shaking his head. “I did just enough, hey? I think you just came up with my personal M.O.”

a/n: i know, i know, this chapter was kind of incredibly long, but i wanted to lay down some exposition/framework so we can really get to business in the next chapter. speaking of, i'm not 100% sure when i'll be posting chapter 3 but i'm aiming for the first week of january so look out for that!

as always, thanks for reading, likes and reblogs would be much appreciated, and i'll see y'all in the next one!

#starmora #peter x gamora #gamora x peter #peter quill #gamora #myfic #myfic: rtw #marvel #ahh the response on the first chapter was so lovely #i hope this one lives up to expectations haha

24 notes · View notes